AT THE CASTLE.
It was late in the afternoon when the carriage containing little Lord
Fauntleroy and Mr. Havisham drove up the long avenue which led to the
castle. The Earl had given orders that his grandson should arrive in
time to dine with him, and for some reason best known to himself, he had
also ordered that the child should be sent alone into the room in which
he intended to receive him. As the carriage rolled up the avenue, Lord
Fauntleroy sat leaning comfortably against the luxurious cushions, and
regarded the prospect with great interest. He was, in fact, interested
in everything he saw. He had been interested in the carriage, with its
large, splendid horses and their glittering harness; he had been
interested in the tall coachman and footman, with their resplendent
livery; and he had been especially interested in the coronet on the
panels, and had struck up an acquaintance with the footman for the
purpose of inquiring what it meant.
The carriage rolled on and on between the great, beautiful trees which
grew on each side of the avenue and stretched their broad swaying
branches in an arch across it. Cedric had never seen such trees, they
were so grand and stately, and their branches grew so low down on their
huge trunks. He did not then know that Dorincourt Castle was one of the
most beautiful in all England; that its park was one of the broadest and
finest, and its trees and avenue almost without rivals. But he did know
that it was all very beautiful. Now and then they passed places where
tall ferns grew in masses, and again and again the ground was azure with
the bluebells swaying in the soft breeze. Several times he started up
with a laugh of delight as a rabbit leaped up from under the greenery
and scudded away with a twinkle of short white tail behind it. Once a
covey of partridges rose with a sudden whir and flew away, and then he
shouted and clapped his hands.
"It's a beautiful place, isn't it?" he said to Mr. Havisham. "I never
saw such a beautiful place. It's prettier even than Central Park."
He was rather puzzled by the length of time they were on their way.
"How far is it?" he said, at length, "from the gate to the front door?"
"It is between three and four miles," answered the lawyer.
It was not long after this that they saw the castle. It rose up before
them stately and beautiful and grey, the last rays of the sun casting
dazzling lights on its many windows. It had turrets and battlements and
towers; a great deal of ivy grew upon its walls; all the broad open
space about it was laid out in terraces and lawns and beds of brilliant
flowers.
"It's the most beautiful place I ever saw!" said Cedric, his round face
flushing with pleasure. "It reminds any one of a king's palace. I saw a
picture of one once in a fairy-book."
He saw the great entrance-door thrown open and many servants standing in
two lines looking at him. He wondered why they were standing there, and
admired their liveries very much. He did not know that they were there
to do honour to the little boy to whom all this splendour would one day
belong. At the head of the line of servants there stood an elderly woman
in a rich plain black silk gown; she had grey hair and wore a cap. As he
entered the hall she stood nearer than the rest, and the child thought
from the look in her eyes that she was going to speak to him. Mr.
Havisham, who held his hand, paused a moment.
"This is Lord Fauntleroy, Mrs. Mellon," he said. "Lord Fauntleroy, this
is Mrs. Mellon, who is the housekeeper."
Cedric gave her his hand, his eyes lighting up.
"Was it you who sent the cat?" he said. "I'm much obliged to you,
ma'am."
Mrs. Mellon's handsome old face looked very much pleased.
"The cat left two beautiful kittens here," she said; "they shall be sent
up to your lordship's nursery."
Mr. Havisham said a few words to her in a low voice.
"In the library, sir," Mrs. Mellon replied. "His lordship is to be taken
there alone."
* * * * *
A few minutes later, the very tall footman in livery, who had escorted
Cedric to the library door, opened it and announced: "Lord Fauntleroy,
my Lord," in quite a majestic tone.
Cedric crossed the threshold into the room. It was a very large and
splendid room, with massive carven furniture in it, and shelves upon
shelves of books; the furniture was so dark, and the draperies so heavy,
the diamond-paned windows were so deep, and it seemed such a distance
from one end of it to the other, that, since the sun had gone down, the
effect of it all was rather gloomy. For a moment Cedric thought there
was nobody in the room, but soon he saw that by the fire burning on the
wide hearth there was a large easy-chair, and that in that chair some
one was sitting--some one who did not at first turn to look at him.
But he had attracted attention in one quarter at least. On the floor, by
the arm-chair, lay a dog, a huge tawny mastiff, with body and limbs
almost as big as a lion's; and this great creature rose majestically and
slowly, and marched toward the little fellow with a heavy step.
Then the person in the chair spoke. "Dougal," he called, "come back,
sir."
But there was no fear in little Lord Fauntleroy's heart. He put his hand
on the big dog's collar and they strayed forward together, Dougal
sniffing as he went.
And then the Earl looked up. What Cedric saw was a large old man with
shaggy white hair and eyebrows, and a nose like an eagle's beak between
his deep fierce eyes. What the Earl saw was a graceful childish figure
in a black velvet suit, with a lace collar, and with love-locks waving
about the handsome, manly little face, whose eyes met his with a look of
innocent good-fellowship. There was a sudden glow of triumph and
exultation in the fiery old Earl's heart as he saw what a strong
beautiful boy this grandson was, and how unhesitatingly he looked up as
he stood with his hand on the big dog's neck.
Cedric came quite close to him.
"Are you the Earl?" he said. "I'm your grandson, you know, that Mr.
Havisham brought. I'm Lord Fauntleroy."
He held out his hand because he thought it must be the polite and proper
thing to do even with earls. "I hope you are very well," he continued,
with the utmost friendliness. "I'm very glad to see you."
The Earl shook hands with him, with a curious gleam in his eyes.
"Glad to see me, are you?" he said.
"Yes," answered Lord Fauntleroy, "very."
There was a chair near him, and he sat down on it; it was a high-backed,
rather tall chair, and his feet did not touch the floor when he had
settled himself in it, but he seemed to be quite comfortable as he sat
there and regarded his august relative intently and modestly.
"Any boy would love his grandfather," continued he, "especially one that
had been as kind to him as you have been."
Another queer gleam came into the old nobleman's eyes.
"Oh!" he said, "I have been kind to you, have I?"
"Yes," answered Lord Fauntleroy brightly; "I'm ever so much obliged to
you about Bridget, and the apple-woman, and Dick!"
"Bridget!" exclaimed the Earl. "Dick! The apple-woman!"
"Yes," explained Cedric; "the ones you gave me all that money for--the
money you told Mr. Havisham to give me if I wanted it."
"Ha!" ejaculated his lordship. "That's it, is it? The money you were to
spend as you liked. What did you buy with it? I should like to hear
something about that."
He drew his shaggy eyebrows together and looked at the child sharply. He
was secretly curious to know in what way the lad had indulged himself.
"Oh!" said Lord Fauntleroy, "perhaps you didn't know about Dick, and the
apple-woman and Bridget. I forgot you lived such a long way off from
them. They were particular friends of mine. And you see Michael had the
fever----"
"Who's Michael?" asked the Earl.
"Michael is Bridget's husband, and they were in great trouble. And
Bridget used to come to our house and cry. And the evening Mr. Havisham
was there, she was in the kitchen crying because they had almost nothing
to eat and couldn't pay the rent; and I went in to see her, and Mr.
Havisham sent for me and he said you had given him some money for me.
And I ran as fast as I could into the kitchen and gave it to Bridget;
and that made it all right; and Bridget could scarcely believe her eyes.
That's why I'm so obliged to you."
"Oh!" said the Earl in his deep voice, "that was one of the things you
did for yourself, was it? What else?"
"Well, there was Dick," Cedric answered. "You'd like Dick, he's so
square."
This was an Americanism the Earl was not prepared for.
"What does that mean?" he inquired.
Lord Fauntleroy paused a moment to reflect. He was not very sure himself
what it meant.
"I think it means that he wouldn't cheat any one," he exclaimed; "or hit
a boy who was under his size, and that he blacks people's boots very
well and makes them shine as much as he can. He's a professional
boot-black."
"And he's one of your acquaintances, is he?" said the Earl.
"He's an old friend of mine," replied his grandson. "Not quite as old as
Mr. Hobbs, but quite old. He gave me a present just before the ship
sailed."
He put his hand into his pocket and drew forth a neatly folded red
object and opened it with an air of affectionate pride. It was the red
silk handkerchief with the large purple horse-shoes and heads on it.
"He gave me this," said his young lordship. "I shall keep it always. You
can wear it round your neck or keep it in your pocket. It's a keepsake.
I put some poetry in Mr. Hobbs' watch. It was, 'When this you see,
remember me.' When this I see, I shall always remember Dick."
The sensation of the Right Honourable the Earl of Dorincourt could
scarcely be described.
He could not help seeing that the little boy took him for a friend and
treated him as one, without having any doubt of him at all. It was quite
plain as the little fellow sat there in his tall chair and talked in his
friendly way that it had never occurred to him that this large,
fierce-looking old man could be anything but kind to him, and rather
pleased to see him there. And it was plain, too, that, in his childish
way, he wished to please and interest his grandfather. Cross, and
hard-hearted, and worldly as the old Earl was, he could not help feeling
a secret and novel pleasure in this very confidence.
So the old man leaned back in his chair, and led his young companion on
to telling him still more of himself, and with that odd gleam in his
eyes watched the little fellow as he talked. Lord Fauntleroy was quite
willing to answer all his questions and chatted on in his genial little
way quite composedly. He told him all about Dick, and the apple-woman,
and Mr. Hobbs. In the course of the conversation, he reached the Fourth
of July and the Revolution, and was just becoming enthusiastic, when
dinner was announced.
Cedric left his chair and went to his noble kinsman. He looked down at
his gouty foot.
"Would you like me to help you?" he said politely. "You could lean on
me, you know. Once when Mr. Hobbs hurt his foot with a potato-barrel
rolling on it, he used to lean on me."
The Earl looked his valiant young relative over from head to foot.
"Do you think you could do it?" he asked gruffly.
"I _think_ I could," said Cedric. "I'm strong. I'm seven, you know. You
could lean on your stick on one side, and on me on the other."
"Well," said the Earl, "you may try."
Cedric gave him his stick, and began to assist him to rise. Usually the
footman did this, and was violently sworn at when his lordship had an
extra twinge of gout.
But this evening he did not swear, though his gouty foot gave him more
twinges than one. He chose to try an experiment. He got up slowly and
put his hand on the small shoulder presented to him with so much
courage. Little Lord Fauntleroy made a careful step forward, looking
down at the gouty foot.
"Just lean on me," he said, with encouraging good cheer. "I'll walk very
slowly."
If the Earl had been supported by the footman he would have rested less
on his stick and more on his assistant's arm. And yet it was part of his
experiment to let his grandson feel his burden as no light weight. It
was quite a heavy weight indeed, and after a few steps his young
lordship's face grew quite hot, and his heart beat rather fast, but he
braced himself sturdily.
"Don't be afraid of leaning on me," he panted. "I'm all right--if--if it
isn't a very long way."
It was not really very far to the dining-room, but it seemed rather a
long way to Cedric, before they reached the chair at the head of the
table.
When the hand was removed from his shoulder, and the Earl was fairly
seated, Cedric took out Dick's handkerchief and wiped his forehead.
"It's a warm night, isn't it?" he said.
"You have been doing some rather hard work," said the Earl.
"Oh, no!" said Lord Fauntleroy, "it wasn't exactly hard, but I got a
little warm. A person will get warm in summer time."
And he rubbed his damp curls rather vigorously with the gorgeous
handkerchief. His own chair was placed at the other end of the table,
opposite his grandfather's. It was a chair with arms, and intended for a
much larger individual than himself; indeed, everything he had seen so
far--the great rooms, with their high ceilings, the massive furniture,
the big footman, the big dog, the Earl himself--were all of proportions
calculated to make this little lad feel that he was very small indeed.
But that did not trouble him.
Notwithstanding his solitary existence the Earl chose to live in
considerable state. He was fond of his dinner, and he dined in a formal
style. Cedric looked at him across a glitter of splendid glass and
plate, which to his unaccustomed eyes seemed quite dazzling. A stranger
looking on might well have smiled at the picture--the great stately
room, the big liveried servants, the bright lights, the glittering
silver and glass, the fierce-looking old nobleman at the head of the
table and the very small boy at the foot. Dinner was usually a very
serious matter with the Earl--and it was a very serious matter with the
cook, if his lordship was not pleased or had an indifferent appetite.
To-day, however, his appetite seemed a trifle better than usual, perhaps
because his grandson gave him something to think of. He kept looking at
him across the table. He did not say very much himself, but he managed
to make the boy talk. He had never imagined that he could be entertained
by hearing a child talk, but Lord Fauntleroy at once puzzled and amused
him.
Cedric finished his dinner first, and then he leaned back in his chair
and took a survey of the room.
"You must be very proud of your house," he said, "it's such a beautiful
house. I never saw anything so beautiful; but, of course, as I'm only
seven, I haven't seen much."
"And you think I must be proud of it, do you?" said the Earl.
"I should think any one would be proud of it," replied Lord Fauntleroy.
"I should be proud of it, if it were my house. Everything about it is
beautiful."
Then he paused an instant and looked across the table rather wistfully.
"It's a very big house for just two people to live in, isn't it?" he
said.
"It is quite large enough for two," answered the Earl. "Do you find it
too large?"
His little lordship hesitated a moment.
"I was only thinking," he said, "that if two people lived in it who were
not very good companions, they might feel lonely sometimes."
"Do you think I shall make a good companion?" inquired the Earl.
"Yes," replied Cedric, "I think you will. Mr. Hobbs and I were great
friends. He was the best friend I had except Dearest."
The Earl made a quick movement of his bushy eyebrows.
"Who is Dearest?"
"She is my mother," said Lord Fauntleroy, in a rather low, quiet little
voice.
Perhaps he was a trifle tired, as his bed-time was nearing, and perhaps
the feeling of weariness brought to him a vague sense of loneliness in
the remembrance that to-night he was not to sleep at home, watched over
by the loving eyes of that "best friend" of his. They had always been
"best friends," this boy and his young mother. He could not help
thinking of her, and the more he thought of her the less was he inclined
to talk, and by the time the dinner was at an end the Earl saw that
there was a faint shadow on his face. But Cedric bore himself with
excellent courage, and when they went back to the library, though the
tall footman walked on one side of his master, the Earl's hand rested on
his grandson's shoulder, though not so heavily as before.
When the footman left them alone, Cedric sat down upon the hearth-rug
near Dougal. For a few minutes he stroked the dog's ears in silence and
looked at the fire.
The Earl watched him. The boy's eyes looked wistful and thoughtful, and
once or twice he gave a little sigh. The Earl sat still, and kept his
eyes fixed on his grandson.
"Fauntleroy," he said at last, "what are you thinking of?"
Fauntleroy looked up with a manful effort at a smile.
"I was thinking about Dearest," he said; "and--and I think I'd better
get up and walk up and down the room."
He rose up, and put his hands in his small pockets, and began to walk to
and fro. His eyes were very bright, and his lips were pressed together,
but he kept his head up and walked firmly. Dougal moved lazily and
looked at him and then stood up. He walked over to the child, and began
to follow him uneasily. Fauntleroy drew one hand from his pocket and
laid it on the dog's head.
"He's a very nice dog," he said. "He's my friend. He knows how I feel."
"How do you feel?" asked the Earl.
"I never was away from my own house before," said the boy, with a
troubled look in his brown eyes. "It makes a person feel a strange
feeling when he has to stay all night in another person's castle instead
of in his own house. But Dearest is not very far away from me. She told
me to remember that--and--and I'm seven--and I can look at the picture
she gave me."
He put his hand in his pocket, and brought out a small violet
velvet-covered case.
"This is it," he said. "You see, you press this spring and it opens, and
she is in there!"
He had come close to the Earl's chair, and, as he drew forth the little
case, he leaned against the old man's arm.
"There she is," he said, as the case opened; and he looked up with a
smile.
The Earl knitted his brows; he did not wish to see the picture, but he
looked at it in spite of himself; and there looked up at him from it
such a pretty young face--a face so like the child's at his side--that
it quite startled him.
"I suppose you think you are very fond of her?" he said.
"Yes," answered Lord Fauntleroy, in a gentle tone, and with simple
directness; "I do think so, and I think it's true. You see Mr. Hobbs was
my friend, and Dick and Bridget and Michael they were my friends too;
but Dearest--well she is my _close_ friend, and we always tell each
other everything."
His young lordship slipped down upon the hearth-rug, and sat there with
the picture still in his hand.
The Earl did not speak again. He leaned back in his chair and watched
him. A great many strange new thoughts passed through the old nobleman's
mind. Dougal had stretched himself out and gone to sleep with his head
on his huge paws. There was a long silence.
* * * * *
In about half an hour's time Mr. Havisham was ushered in. The great room
was very still when he entered. The Earl was still leaning back in his
chair. He moved as Mr. Havisham approached, and held up his hand in a
gesture of warning--it seemed as if he had scarcely intended to make the
gesture--as if it were almost involuntary. Dougal was still asleep, and
close beside the great dog, sleeping also, with his curly head upon his
arm, lay little Lord Fauntleroy.