SIR HARRY BRACTON'S INVASION OF GYLINGDEN.
Jim Dutton had not turned up since, and his letter was one of those
mares' nests of which gentlemen in Mr. Larkin's line of business have so
large an experience. Of Mark Wylder not a trace was discoverable. His
enquiries on this point were, of course, conducted with caution and
remoteness. Gylingden, however, was one of those places which, if it
knows anything, is sure to find a way of telling it, and the attorney was
soon satisfied that Mark's secret visit had been conducted with
sufficient caution to baffle the eyes and ears of the good folk of the
town.
Well, one thing was plain. The purchase of the reversion was to wait, and
fraudulent as was the price at which he had proposed to buy it, he was
now resolved to get it for less than half that sum, and he wrote a short
note to the vicar, which he forthwith despatched.
In the meantime there was not a moment to be lost in clenching the
purchase of Five Oaks. And Mr. Jos. Larkin, with one of his 'young men'
with him in the tax-cart, reached Brandon Hall in a marvellously short
time after his arrival at home.
Jos. Larkin, his clerk, and the despatch-box, had a short wait in the
Dutch room, before his admission to the library, where an animated debate
was audible. The tremendous contest impending over the county was, of
course, the theme. In the Dutch room, where they waited, there was a
large table, with a pyramid of blank envelopes in the middle, and ever so
many cubic feet of canvassing circulars, six chairs, and pens and ink.
The clerks were in the housekeeper's room at that moment, partaking of
refreshment. There was a gig in the court-yard, with a groom at the
horse's head, and Larkin, as he drew up, saw a chaise driving round to
the stable yard. People of all sorts were coming and going, and Brandon
Hall was already growing like an inn.
'How d'ye do, dear Larkin?' said Captain Brandon Stanley Lake, the hero
of all this debate and commotion, smiling his customary sly greeting, and
extending his slim hand across the arm of his chair--'I'm so sorry you
were away--this thing has come, after all, so suddenly--we are getting on
famously though--but I'm awfully fagged.' And, indeed, he looked pale and
tired, though smiling. 'I've a lot of fellows with me; they've just run
in to luncheon; won't you take something?'
But Jos. Larkin, smiling after his sort, excused himself. He was glad
they had a moment to themselves. He had brought the money, which he knew
would be acceptable at such a moment, and he thought it would be
desirable to sign and seal forthwith, to which the captain, a little
anxiously, agreed. So he got in one of the clerks who were directing the
canvassing circulars, and gave him the draft, approved by his counsel, to
read aloud, while he followed with his eye upon the engrossed deed.
The attorney told down the money in bank bills. He fancied that exception
might be taken to his cheque for so large a sum, and was eager to avoid
delay, and came from London so provided.
The captain was not sorry, for in truth he was in rather imminent
jeopardy just then. He had spoken truth, strangely enough, when he
mentioned his gambling debts as an incentive to his marriage with the
heiress of Brandon, in that Sunday walk with Rachel in the park; and
hardly ten minutes had passed when Melton Hervey, trustiest of
aide-de-camps, was on his way to Dollington to make a large lodgment to
the captain's credit in the county bank, and to procure a letter of
credit for a stupendous sum in favour of Messrs. Hiram and Jacobs,
transmitted under cover to Captain Lake's town solicitor. The captain had
signed, sealed, and delivered, murmuring that formula about hand and
seal, and act and deed, and Dorcas glided in like a ghost, and merely
whispering an enquiry to Lake, did likewise, the clerk deferentially
putting the query, 'this is your hand and seal, &c.?' and Jos. Larkin
drawing a step or two backward.
Of course the lady saw that lank and sinister man of God quite
distinctly, but she did not choose to do so, and Larkin, with a grand
sort of prescience, foresaw a county feud between the Houses of Five Oaks
and Brandon, and now the lady had vanished. The money, carefully counted,
was rolled in Lake's pocket book, and the bright new deed which made Jos.
Larkin, of the Lodge, Esq., master of Five Oaks, was safely locked into
the box, under his long arm, and the attorney vanished, bowing very much,
and concealing his elation under a solemn sort of _nonchalance_.
The note, which by this time the vicar had received, though short, was,
on the whole, tremendous. It said:--
'(_Private._)
REV. AND DEAR SIR,--I have this moment arrived from London, where I
deeply regret to state the negotiation on which we both relied to carry
you comfortably over your present difficulties has fallen through, in
consequence of what I cannot but regard as the inexcusable caprice of the
intending purchaser. He declines stating any reason for his withdrawal. I
fear that the articles were so artfully framed by his solicitors, in one
particular which it never entered into my mind to refer to anything like
trick or design, that we shall find it impossible to compel him to carry
out what, in the strongest terms, I have represented to Messrs.
Burlington and Smith as a bargain irrevocably concluded in point of
honour and morality. The refusal of their own client to make the proposed
investment has alarmed those gentlemen, I regret to add, for the safety
of their costs, which, as I before apprised you, are, though I cannot say
excessive, certainly _very heavy_; and I fear we must be prepared for
extreme measures upon their part. I have carefully reconsidered the very
handsome proposal which Miss Lake was so good as to submit; but the
result is that, partly on technical, and partly on other grounds, I
continue of the clear opinion that the idea is absolutely impracticable,
and must be peremptorily laid aside in attempting to arrive at an
estimate of any resources which you may be conscious of commanding. If,
under these deplorably untoward circumstances, you still think I can be
of any use to you, may I beg that you will not hesitate to say how.
'I remain, my dear and reverend Sir, with profound regrets and sympathy,
yours very sincerely,
'JOS. H. LARKIN.'
He had already imported the H. which was to germinate, in a little while,
into Howard.
When Jos. Larkin wanted to get a man's property a bargain--and he had
made two or three excellent hits, though, comparatively, on a very small
scale--he liked so to contrive matters as to bring his client to his
knees, begging him to purchase on the terms he wished; and then Jos.
Larkin came forward, in the interests of humanity, and unable to resist
the importunities of 'a party whom he respected,' he did 'what, at the
time, appeared a very risky thing, although it has turned out tolerably
safe in the long run.'
The screw was now twisted pretty well home upon the poor vicar, who, if
he had any sense at all, would, remembering Larkin's expressions only a
week before, suggest his buying, and so, the correspondence would
disclose, in a manner most honourable to the attorney, the history of the
purchase.
But the clouds had begun to break, and the sky to clear, over the good
vicar, just at the point where they had been darkest and most menacing.
Little Fairy, after all, was better. Good-natured Buddle had been there
at nine, quite amazed at his being so well, still reserved and cautious,
and afraid of raising hopes. But when he came back, at eleven, and had
completed his examination, he told them, frankly, that there was a
decided change; in fact, that the little man, with, of course, great
care, might do very well, and _ought_ to recover, if nothing went wrong.
Honest Buddle was delighted. He chuckled over the little man's bed. He
could not suppress his grins. He was a miracle of a child! a prodigy! By
George, it was the most extraordinary case he had ever met with! It was
all that bottle, and that miraculous child; they seemed made for one
another. From two o'clock, last night, the action of his skin has
commenced, and never ceased since. When he was here last night, the
little fellow's pulse was a hundred and forty-four, and now down to
ninety-seven!
The doctor grew jocular; and who can resist a doctor's jokes, when they
garnish such tidings as he was telling. Was ever so pleasant a doctor!
Laughter through tears greeted these pleasantries; and oh, such
transports of gratitude broke forth when he was gone!
It was well for Driver, the postmaster, and his daughters, that all the
circulars made up that day in Brandon Hall were not despatched through
the Gylingden post-office. It was amazing how so many voters could find
room to one county. Next day, it was resolved, the captain's personal
canvass was to commence. The invaluable Wealdon had run through the list
of his to-morrow's visits, and given him an inkling of the
idiosyncrasies, the feuds, and the likings of each elector in the
catalogue. 'Busy times, Sir!' Tom Wealdon used to remark, with a chuckle,
from time to time, in the thick of the fuss and conspiration which was
the breath of his nostrils; and, doubtless, so they are, and were, and
ever will be, until the time-honoured machinery of our election system
has been overhauled, and adapted to the civilisation of these days.
Captain Brandon Lake was as much as possible at head quarters in these
critical times; and, suddenly, Mr. Crump; the baker, and John Thomas, of
the delft, ironmongery, sponge, and umbrella shop, at the corner of
Church Street, in Gylingden, were announced by the fatigued servant. They
bowed, and stood, grinning, near the door; and the urbane and cordial
captain, with all a candidate's good fellowship, shook them both by the
hands, and heard their story; and an exciting one it was.
Sir Harry Bracton had actually invaded the town of Gylingden. There was a
rabble of the raff of Queen's Bracton along with him. He, with two or
three young swells by him, had made a speech, from his barouche, outside
the 'Silver Lion,' near the green; and he was now haranguing from the
steps of the Court House. They had a couple of flags, and some music. It
was 'a regular, planned thing;' for the Queen's Bracton people had been
dropping in an hour before. The shop-keepers were shutting their windows.
Sir Harry was 'chaffing the capting,' and hitting him very hard 'for a
hupstart'--and, in fact, Crump was more particular in reporting the
worthy baronet's language than was absolutely necessary. And it was
thought that Sir Harry was going to canvass the town.
The captain was very much obliged, indeed, and begged they would go into
the parlour, and take luncheon; and, forthwith, Wealdon took the command.
The gamekeepers, the fifty hay-makers in the great meadow, they were to
enter the town from the top of Church Street, where they were to gather
all the boys and blackguards they could. The men from the gas-works, the
masons, and blacksmiths, were to be marched in by Luke Samways. Tom
Wealdon would, himself, in passing, give the men at the coal-works a
hint. Sir Harry's invasion was the most audacious thing on record; and it
was incumbent on Gylingden to make his defeat memorably disgraceful and
disastrous.
His barouche was to be smashed, and burnt on the green; his white topcoat
and hat were to clothe the effigy, which was to swing over the bonfire.
The captured Bracton banners were to hang in the coffee-room of the
'Silver Lion,' to inspire the roughs. What was to become of the human
portion of the hostile pageant, Tom, being an official person, did not
choose to hint.
All these, and fifty minor measures, were ordered by the fertile Wealdon
in a minute, and suitable messengers on the wing to see after them. The
captain, accompanied by Mr. Jekyl, myself, and a couple of the grave
scriveners from the next room, were to go by the back approach and
Redman's Dell to the Assembly Rooms, which Crump and Thomas, already on
their way in the fly, undertook to have open for their reception, and
furnished with some serious politicians from the vicinity. From the
windows, the captain, thus supported, was to make his maiden speech, one
point in which Tom Wealdon insisted upon, and that was an injunction to
the 'men of Gylingden' on no account to break the peace. 'Take care to
say it, and we'll have it well reported in the "Chronicle," and our lads
won't mind it, nor hear it neither, for that matter.'
So, there was mounting in hot haste in the courtyard of old Brandon, and
a rather ponderous selection of walking-sticks by the politicians--of
whom I was one--intended for the windows of the assembly room.
Lake rode; Tom Wealdon, myself, and two scriveners, squeezed into the
dog-cart, which was driven by Jekyl, and away we went. It was a pleasant
drive, under the noble old trees. But we were in no mood for the
picturesque. A few minutes brought us into the Blackberry hollow, which
debouches into Redman's Dell.
Here, the road being both steep and rugged, our speed abated. The
precipitous banks shut out the sunlight, except at noon, and the road
through this defile, overhung by towering trees and rocks, was even now
in solemn shadow. The cart-road leading down to Redman's Dell, and
passing the mills near Redman's Farm, diverges from the footpath with
which we are so well acquainted, near that perpendicular block of stone
which stands a little above the steps which the footpath here descends.