CHAPTER LIV

MY RETURN TO ENGLAND

I passed from the Alps to the desert, and fell in love with the East,

until it began to consume me. History, like the air we breathe, must be

in motion to keep us uncorrupt: otherwise its ancient homes are

infectious. My passion for the sun and his baked people lasted awhile,

the drudgery of the habit of voluntary exile some time longer, and then,

quite unawares, I was seized with a thirst for England, so violent that I

abandoned a correspondence of several months, lying for me both at

Damascus and Cairo, to catch the boat for Europe. A dream of a rainy

morning, in the midst of the glowing furnace, may have been the origin of

the wild craving I had for my native land and Janet. The moist air of

flying showers and drenched spring buds surrounded her; I saw her plainly

lifting a rose's head; was it possible I had ever refused to be her

yokefellow? Could so noble a figure of a fair young woman have been

offered and repudiated again and again by a man in his senses? I spurned

the intolerable idiot, to stop reflection. Perhaps she did likewise now.

There was nothing to alarm me save my own eagerness.

The news of my father was perplexing, leading me to suppose him

re-established in London, awaiting the coming on of his Case. Whence the

money?

Money and my father, I knew, met as they divided, fortuitously; in

illustration of which, I well remembered, while passing in view of the

Key of the Adige along the Lombard plain, a circumstance during my Alpine

tour with Temple, of more importance to him than to me, when my emulous

friend, who would never be beaten, sprained his ankle severely on the

crags of a waterfall, not far from Innsbruck, and was invited into a

house by a young English lady, daughter of a retired Colonel of Engineers

of our army. The colonel was an exile from his country for no grave

crime: but, as he told us, as much an exile as if he had committed a

capital offence in being the father of nine healthy girls. He had been,

against his judgement, he averred, persuaded to fix on his Tyrolese spot

of ground by the two elder ones. Five were now married to foreigners;

thus they repaid him, by scattering good English blood on the race of

Counts and Freiherrs! 'I could understand the decrees of Providence

before I was a parent,' said this dear old Colonel Heddon. 'I was

looking up at the rainbow when I heard your steps, asking myself whether

it was seen in England at that instant, and why on earth I should be out

of England!' He lived abroad to be able to dower his girls. His sons-

in-law were gentlemen; so far he was condemned to be satisfied, but

supposing all his girls married foreigners? His primitive frankness

charmed us, and it struck me that my susceptible Temple would have liked

to be in a position to reassure him with regard to the Lucy of the four.

We were obliged to confess that she was catching a foreign accent. The

old colonel groaned. He begged us to forgive him for not treating us as

strangers; his heart leapt out to young English gentlemen.

My name, he said, reminded him of a great character at home, in the old

days: a certain Roy-Richmond, son of an actress and somebody, so the

story went: and there was an old Lord Edbury who knew more about it than

most. 'Now Roy was an adventurer, but he had a soul of true chivalry, by

gad, he had! Plenty of foreign whiffmajigs are to be found, but you

won't come upon a fellow like that. Where he got his money from none

knew: all I can say is, I don't believe he ever did a dirty action for

it. And one matter I'll tell you of: pardon me a moment, Mr. Richmond,

I haven't talked English for half a century, or, at least, a quarter.

Old Lord Edbury put him down in his will for some thousands, and he

risked it to save a lady, who hated him for his pains. Lady Edbury was

of the Bolton blood, none of the tamest; they breed good cavalry men.

She ran away from her husband once. The old lord took her back. "It 's

at your peril, mind!" says she. Well, Roy hears by-and-by of afresh

affair. He mounted horse; he was in the saddle, I've been assured, a

night and a day, and posted himself between my lady's park-gates, and the

house, at dusk. The rumour ran that he knew of the marquis playing spy

on his wife. However, such was the fact; she was going off again, and

the marquis did play the mean part. She walked down the parkroad, and,

seeing the cloaked figure of a man, she imagined him to be her Lothario,

and very naturally, you will own, fell into his arms. The gentleman in

question was an acquaintance of mine; and the less you follow our example

the better for you. It was a damnable period in morals! He told me that

he saw the scene from the gates, where he had his carriage-and-four

ready. The old lord burst out of an ambush on his wife and her supposed

paramour; the lady was imprisoned in her rescuer's arms, and my friend

retired on tiptoe, which was, I incline to think, the best thing he could

do. Our morals were abominable. Lady Edbury would never see Roy-

Richmond after that, nor the old lord neither. He doubled the sum he had

intended to leave him, though. I heard that he married a second young

wife. Roy, I believe, ended by marrying a great heiress, and reforming.

He was an eloquent fellow, and stood like a general in full uniform,

cocked hat and feathers; most amusing fellow at table; beat a Frenchman

for anecdote.'

I spared Colonel Heddon the revelation of my relationship to his hero,

thanking his garrulity for interrupting me.

How I pitied him when I drove past the gates of the main route to

Innsbruck! For I was bound homeward: I should soon see England, green

cloudy England, the white cliffs, the meadows, the heaths! And I thanked

the colonel again in my heart for having done something to reconcile me

to the idea of that strange father of mine.

A banner-like stream of morning-coloured smoke rolled North-eastward as I

entered London, and I drove to Temple's chambers. He was in Court,

engaged in a case as junior to his father. Temple had become that

radiant human creature, a working man, then? I walked slowly to the

Court, and saw him there, hardly recognising him in his wig. All that he

had to do was to prompt his father in a case of collision at sea; the

barque Priscilla had run foul of a merchant brig, near the mouth of the

Thames, and though I did not expect it on hearing the vessel's name, it

proved to be no other than the barque Priscilla of Captain Jasper Welsh.

Soon after I had shaken Temple's hand, I was going through the same

ceremony with the captain himself, not at all changed in appearance, who

blessed his heart for seeing me, cried out that a beard and mustachios

made a foreign face of a young Englishman, and was full of the

'providential' circumstance of his having confided his case to Temple and

his father.

'Ay, ay, Captain Welsh,' said Temple, 'we have pulled you through, only

another time mind you keep an eye on that look-out man of yours. Some of

your men, I suspect, see double with an easy conscience. A close net

makes slippery eels.'

'Have you anything to say against my men?' the captain inquired.

Temple replied that he would talk to him about it presently, and laughed

as he drew me away.

'His men will get him into a deuce of a scrape some day, Richie. I shall

put him on his guard. Have you had all my letters? You look made of

iron. I'm beginning capitally, not afraid of the Court a bit, and I hope

I'm not pert. I wish your father had taken it better!'

'Taken what?' said I.

'Haven't you heard from him?'

'Two or three times: a mass of interjections.'

'You know he brought his Case forward at last? Of course it went as we

all knew it would.'

'Where is he? Have you seen Janet lately?'

'He is at Miss Ilchester's house in London.'

'Write the address on a card.'

Temple wrote it rather hesitatingly, I thought.

We talked of seeing one another in the evening, and I sprang off to

Janet's residence, forgetting to grasp my old friend's hand at parting.

I was madly anxious to thank her for the unexpected tenderness to my

father. And now nothing stood between us!

My aunt Dorothy was the first to welcome me. 'He must be prepared for

the sight of you, Harry. The doctors say that a shock may destroy him.

Janet treats him so wonderfully.'

I pressed her on my heart and cheered her, praising Janet. She wept.

'Is there anything new the matter?' I said.

'It 's not new to us, Harry. I'm sure you're brave?'

'Brave! what am I asked to bear?'

'Much, if you love her, Harry!'

'Speak.'

'It is better you should hear it from me, Harry. I wrote you word of it.

We all imagined it would not be disagreeable to you. Who could foresee

this change in you? She least of all!'

'She's in love with some one?'

'I did not say in love.'

'Tell me the worst.'

'She is engaged to be married.'

Janet came into the room--another Janet for me. She had engaged herself

to marry the Marquis of Edbury. At the moment when she enslaved me with

gratitude and admiration she was lost to me. I knew her too well to see

a chance of her breaking her pledged word.

My old grandfather said of Janet, 'She's a compassionate thing.' I felt

now the tears under his speech, and how late I was in getting wisdom.

Compassion for Edbury in Janet's bosom was the matchmaker's chief engine

of assault, my aunt Dorothy told me. Lady Ilchester had been for this

suitor, Sir Roderick for the other, up to the verge of a quarrel between

the most united of wedding couples. Janet was persecuted. She heard

that Edbury's life was running to waste; she liked him for his cricketing

and hunting, his frankness, seeming manliness, and general native English

enthusiasm. I permitted myself to comprehend the case as far as I could

allow myself to excuse her.

Dorothy Beltham told me something of Janet that struck me to the dust.

'It is this, dear Harry; bear to hear it! Janet and I and his good true

woman of a housekeeper, whose name is Waddy, we are, I believe, the only

persons that know it. He had a large company to dine at a City tavern,

she told us, on the night after the decision--when the verdict went

against him. The following morning I received a note from this good Mrs.

Waddy addressed to Sir Roderick's London house, where I was staying with

Janet; it said that he was ill; and Janet put on her bonnet at once to go

to him.'

'The lady didn't fear contagion any longer?'

'She went, walking fast. He was living in lodgings, and the people of

the house insisted on removing him, Mrs. Waddy told us. She was cowering

in the parlour. I had not the courage to go upstairs. Janet went by

herself.'

My heart rose on a huge swell.

'She was alone with him, Harry. We could hear them.'

Dorothy Beltham looked imploringly on me to waken my whole comprehension.

'She subdued him. When I saw him he was white as death, but quiet, not

dangerous at all.'

'Do you mean she found him raving?' I cried out on our Maker's name, in

grief and horror.

'Yes, dear Harry, it was so.'

'She stepped between him and an asylum?'

'She quitted Sir Roderick's house to lodge your father safe in one that

she hired, and have him under her own care. She watched him day and

night for three weeks, and governed him, assisted only at intervals by

the poor frightened woman, Mrs. Waddy, and just as frightened me. And I

am still subject to the poor woman's way of pressing her hand to her

heart at a noise. It 's over now. Harry, Janet wished that you should

never hear of it. She dreads any excitement for him. I think she is

right in fancying her own influence the best: he is used to it. You know

how gentle she is though she is so firm.'

'Oh! don't torture me, ma'am, for God's sake,' I called aloud.

The Adventures of Harry Richmond — Volume 8 · 第 4 / 6 章