GIANT DESPAIR'S CASTLE.
'Who haplesse and eke hopelesse all in vaine,
Did to him pace sad battle to darrayne;
Disarmd, disgraste, and inwardly dismayde,
And eke so faint in every ioynt and vayne,
Through that fraile fountaine which him feeble made.'
_Spenser._
Felix's majority made no immediate difference. His thirteenth part of
his father's small property remained with the rest, at any rate until
his guardian should return from his travels in the East; but in the
course of the winter his kind old godfather, Admiral Chester, died, and
having no nearer relation, left him the result of his small savings out
of his pay, which would, the lawyer wrote, amount to about a thousand
pounds; but there was a good deal of business to be transacted, and it
would be long before the sum was made over to him.
Wilmet and Geraldine thought it a perfect fortune, leading to the
University, and release from trade; and they looked rather crestfallen
when they heard that it only meant £30 per annum in the funds, or
£50 in some risky investment. Mr. Froggatt's wish was that he should
purchase such a share in the business as would really give him standing
there; but Wilmet heard this with regret; she did not like his thus
binding himself absolutely down to trade.
'You are thinking for Alda,' said Felix, smiling. 'You are considering
how Froggatt and Underwood will sound in her ears.'
'In mine, too, Felix; I _do_ not like it.'
'I would willingly endure it to become Redstone's master,' said Felix,
quietly.
'Is he still so vexatious?' asked Geraldine; for not above once in six
months did Felix speak of any trials from his companions in business.
'Not actively so; but things might be better done, and much ill blood
saved. I cannot share W. W.'s peculiar pride in preferring to be an
assistant instead of a partner.'
'Then this is what you mean to do with it?'
'Wait till it comes,' he said, oracularly. 'Seriously, though, I don't
want to tie it all up. The boys may want a start in life.'
Neither sister thought of observing that the legacy was to one, not
to all. Everybody regarded what belonged to Felix as common property;
and the 'boys' were far enough into their teens to begin to make their
future an anxious consideration. Clement was just seventeen, and though
he had outgrown his voice, was lingering on as a sort of adopted child
at St. Matthew's, helping in the parish school, and reading under one
of the clergy in preparation for standing for a scholarship. He tried
for one in the autumn, but failed, so much to his surprise and disgust,
that he thought hostility to St. Matthew's must be at the bottom of his
rejection; and came home with somewhat of his martyr-like complacency
at Christmas, meaning to read so hard as to force his way in spite
of prejudice. He was very tall, fair, and slight; and his features
were the more infantine from a certain melancholy baby-like gravity,
which music alone dispersed. He really played beautifully, and being
entrusted with the organ during the schoolmaster's Christmas holidays,
made practising his chief recreation. That Lance would often follow him
into church for a study, and always made one of the group round the
piano when Alice Knevett came to sing with them, was a great grievance
to Fulbert, who never loved music, and hated it as a rival for Lance's
attention.
These two were generally the closest companions, and were alike in
having more boyishness, restlessness, and enterprise than their
brothers. This winter their ambition was to be at all the meets within
five miles, follow up the hunt, and be able to report the fox's death
at the end of the day. Indeed, their appetite for whatever bore the
name of sport was as ravenous as it was indiscriminate; and their
rapturous communications could not be checked by Clement's manifest
contempt, or the discouraging indifference of the rest--all but Robina,
who loved whatever Lance loved, and was ready to go to a meet, if
Wilmet had not interfered with a high hand.
Before long Felix wished that his authority over the male part of the
family were as well established as that in her department.
One hunting day the two brothers came in splashed up to the eyes,
recounting how they had found a boy of about their own age in a ditch,
bruised and stunned, but not seriously hurt; how with consolation and
schoolboy surgery they had cheered him, and found he was Harry Collis,
whom they had known as a school-fellow at Bexley; how they had helped
him home to Marshlands Hall, and had been amazed at the dreariness and
want of all home comfort at the place, so that they did not like to
leave him till his father came home; and how Captain Collis had not
only thanked them warmly, but had asked them over to come and shoot
rabbits the next day.
There was nothing to blame them for, but Felix had much rather it had
never happened. Captain Collis was one of a race of squires who had
never been very reputable, and had not risen greatly above the farmer.
He had been in the army, and had the bearing of a gentleman; but ever
since his wife's death, he had lived an unsatisfactory sort of life
at the Hall, always forward in sport, but not well thought of, and
believed to be a good deal in debt. His only child, this Harry Collis,
had been sent somewhat fitfully to the St. Oswald's Grammar School,
and had been rather a favourite companion of Lance's; but separation
had put an end to the intimacy, and this renewal was not at all to the
taste of their eldest brother.
'It can't be helped this time,' he said, when he heard of the
invitation; 'I suppose you must go to-morrow, but I don't fancy the
concern.'
Fulbert's bristles began to rise, but Lance chatted gaily on. 'But,
Fee, you never saw such a place! Stables for nine hunters. Only think!
And a horse entered for the Derby! We are to see him to-morrow. It is
the jolliest place.'
'Nine hunters!' moralized Clement; 'they cost as much as three times
nine orphans.'
'And they are worth a dozen times as much as the nasty little beggars!'
said Fulbert.
On which Angela put in the trite remark that the orphans had souls.
'Precious rum ones,' muttered Fulbert; and in the clamour thus raised
the subject dropped; but when next morning, in the openness of his
heart, Lance invited Clement to go with them to share the untold joys
of rabbit-shooting, he met with a decisive reply. 'Certainly not! I
should think your Dean would be surprised at you.'
'Oh, the Dean is a kind old chap,' answered Lance, off-hand; 'whenever
he has us to sing at a party, he tips us all round, thanks us, and
tells us to enjoy ourselves in the supper-room, like a gentleman, as he
is.'
'Do you know what this Collis's character is?'
'Hang his character! I want his rabbits.'
And Lance was off with Fulbert; while Clement remained, to make
Geraldine unhappy with his opinion of the temptations of Marshlands
Hall, returning to the charge when Felix came in before dinner.
'Yes,' said Felix briefly, 'Mr. Froggatt has been telling me. It must
be stopped.'
'Have you heard of the mischief that--'
'Don't be such a girl, Tina. I am going to do the thing, and there is
no use in keeping on about it.'
Felix had not called Clement Tina since he had been head of the family,
and irritability in him was a token of great perplexity; for indeed his
hardest task always was the dealing with Fulbert; and he was besides
very sorry to balk the poor boys of one of their few chances of manly
amusement.
He would have waited to utter his prohibition till the excitement
should have worked off, but he knew that Clement would never hold
his peace through the narrative of their adventures; so, as they had
not come in when his work was over, he took Theodore on his arm, and
retreated to the little parlour behind the shop, where he lay in wait,
reading, and mechanically whistling tunes to Theodore, till he heard
the bell, and went to open the door.
The gas showed them rosy, merry, glorious, and bespattered, one
waving a couple of rabbits, and the other of pheasants, and trying to
tickle Theodore's cheeks with the long tails of the latter, of course
frightening him into a fretful wail.
'Take Theodore upstairs, if you please, Lance,' said Felix, 'and then
come down; I want you.'
'The Captain was going to dine at Bowstead's,' said Fulbert, 'so he
drove us in his dog-cart. If the frost holds, we are to go out and
skate on Monday.'
Felix employed himself in putting away his papers, without answering.
'I had very good luck,' continued Fulbert, 'four out of six; wonderful
for so new a hand, the Captain said.'
'Such a lovely animal you never saw,' said Lance, swinging himself
downstairs. 'You must walk out and see it, Fee, for you'll have it in
the Pursuivant some Saturday.'
'Lance, I am very sorry,' said Felix, standing upright, with his back
to the exhausted grate. 'Just attend to me, both of you.'
'Oh!' said Lance, hastily, 'I know there's a lot of old women's gossip
about Collis; but nobody minds such stuff. Harry is as good a lad as
ever stepped; and there was no harm to be seen about the place;--was
there, Ful?'
'The old Frog has been croaking,' hoarsely muttered Fulbert.
Boys of sixteen and fourteen were incapable of coercion by a youth
of one-and-twenty, and the only appeal must be to conscience and
reason; so Felix went on speaking, though he had seen from the first
that Fulbert's antagonism rendered him stolid, deaf, and blind; and
Lancelot's flushed cheeks, angry eyes, impatient attempts to interrupt,
and scornful gestures told of scarcely-repressed passion.
'You may have seen no harm, I find no fault' (Fulbert scowled); 'but
if I had known what I do now I should not have let you go to-day. My
father would rather have cut off his right hand than have allowed you
to begin an acquaintance which has been ruinous to almost all the young
men who have been in that set.'
'But we are not young men,' cried Lance; 'it is only for the holidays;
and we only want a little fun with poor Harry, he is so lonely--and
just to go out rabbiting and skating. It is very hard we can't be
let alone the first time anything worth doing has turned up in this
abominable slow place.'
'It is very hard, Lance. No one is more concerned than I; but if this
intimacy once begins, there is no guessing where it will lead; and I do
not speak without grounds. Listen--'
'If it comes from old Frog, you may as well shut up,' said Lance.
'There's been no peace at Marshlands since he took that cottage--a
regular old nuisance and mischief-maker, spiting the Captain because
one of the dogs killed his old cock, and bothering Charlie to no end
about him.'
'I have heard from others as well,' said Felix; and he briefly
mentioned some facts as to the scandals of the dissipated household,
some of the imputations under which Captain Collis lay, and named two
or three of the young men whose unsatisfactory conduct was ascribed to
his influence.
He saw that both lads were startled, and wound up with saying,
'Therefore it is not without reason that I desire that you do not go
there again.'
With which words, he opened the door, turned off the gas, and walked
upstairs, hearing on the way a growl of Fulbert's--'That's what comes
of being cad to a stupid brute of an old tradesman;' and likewise a
bouncing, rolling, and tumbling, and a very unchorister-like expletive
from Lance; but he hurried up, like the conclave from the vault at
Lindisfarn, only with a sinking heart, and looks that made his sisters
say how tired he must be. The boys were seen no more, but sent word by
Bernard that they were wet through, they should not dress, but should
get some supper in the kitchen, and go to bed.
On Sunday Lance had recovered himself and his temper, but in the
evening he made another attempt upon Felix in private. His heart was
greatly set upon Marshlands, and he argued that there was no evil at
all in what they had been doing, and entreated Felix to be content with
the promise both were willing to make, to take no share in anything
doubtful--not even to play at billiards, or cards--if that would
satisfy him, said Lance, 'but we will promise anything you please
against playing, or betting, or--'
'I know, Lance, you once made such a promise, and kept it. I trust you
entirely. But before, it would have been cruel to keep you from that
sick boy; now this would be mere running into temptation for your own
amusement.'
'Harry is not much better off than Fernan was,' said Lancelot,
wistfully.
'Poor fellow! very likely not; but it would be more certain harm to
yourself than good to him. Any way, no respectable person would choose
to be intimate there, or to let their boys resort there; and it is my
duty not to consent.'
'Ful is in such an awful way,' said Lance, disconsolately. 'Fee, you
don't know how hard it is, you always were such a muff.'
'That is true,' said Felix, not at all offended; 'and I had my father
and Edgar; but indeed, Lance, nothing ever was so hard to me to do as
this. I cannot say how sorry I am.'
'You do really order me not?' said Lance, looking straight up at him.
'I do. I forbid you to go into Captain Collis's grounds, or to do more
than exchange a greeting, if you meet him.'
'I will not. There's my word and honour for it, since--since you are so
intolerably led by the nose by old Frog;' and Lance flung away, with
the remains of his passion worked up afresh, and was as glum as his
nature allowed the rest of the evening; but Felix, though much annoyed,
saw that the boy had set up voluntarily two barriers between himself
and his tempted will--in the command and the promise.
But the command that was a guard to the one, was a goad to the other;
for Fulbert had never accepted his eldest brother's authority, and
could not brook interference. Still his school character was good, and
there was a certain worth about him, which made him sometimes withdraw
his resistance, though never submit; and Felix had some hope that it
would be so in the present case, when, while speeding to church in the
dark winter Monday morning, he overheard Lance say to Clement, 'I say,
Clem, 'tis a jolly stinging frost. If you'll take your skates and give
us a lesson, we'll be off for the lake at Centry.'
One of the Whittingtonian curates had taken the boys to the ice in the
parks, and taught them so effectively, that Clement was one of the best
skaters in Bexley; but he was too much inclined to the nayward not to
reply, 'I have to practise that anthem for Wednesday.'
'Oh, bother the practice!'
(Which Felix mentally echoed.)
'I can play that anthem, if that's all,' said Lance; 'and I believe you
know it perfectly well. Now, Clem, don't be savage; I think, if you
will come, we _might_ put that other thing out of Ful's head.'
'Well, if you think it is to be of use--'
'That's right! Thank you,' cried Lance. 'And you won't jaw us all the
way? He can't stand that, you know.'
Clement winced; but in compensation, apparently, for this forbidden
lecture, he observed, 'I am glad you at least take it properly, Lance,
though it would be worse in you than in him, considering your--'
'Bother it!' unceremoniously broke in Lance; and the words of wisdom
were silenced.
Lance did his best to organise his party, but it was a failure; Fulbert
said he had made an engagement, and would not break it; he was not
bound to toady old Froggy, nor in bondage to any old fogeys of a dean
and chapter; and he walked off the faster for Clement's protest,
leaving Lance to roll on the floor and climb the balusters backwards
to exhale his desire to follow. He was too much upset even to follow
Clement to the organ, or to settle to the drawing which Cherry was
teaching him, and was a great torment to himself and his sisters till
dinner-time, when Clement had done his organ and his Greek, and was
ready for a rush for the ice; and Robina went joyously with them.
'Between two young ladies one can't well run into harm's way,' said
Lance.
So things went on for a fortnight. Fulbert never shuffled, he went
openly to Marshlands Hall; and though not boasting of his expeditions,
did not treat them as a secret. Wilmet and Geraldine each tried
persuasion, but were silenced rudely; and Felix, unable to enforce his
authority, held his tongue, but was very unhappy, both for the present
and for the future. He did not believe much harm was doing now, but the
temptation would increase with every vacation as the boys came nearer
to manhood; and he seemed to have lost all influence and moral power
over Fulbert.
Good old Mrs. Froggatt gave a small children's party, to which, with
many apologies, she invited the lesser Underwoods, under charge of
Wilmet. They were to sleep at the cottage, and Wilmet having offered to
help in dressing the Christmas-tree, they set out early in the day to
walk, escorted by the three brothers. That the trio did not return to
tea did not alarm Felix and Geraldine, who suspected that the dislike
the two elder expressed to the whole house of Froggatt had melted
before the pleasure of working at the tree.
The evening was taken up in the discussion of a letter of Edgar's, more
than usually discontented with his employment; and another of Alda's,
who had been laid under orders to write to her eldest brother, and
desire him to remonstrate with Edgar on his inattention, laziness, and
pleasure-seeking. The anxiety had long been growing up; Felix had come
to write his difficult letter by the light of Geraldine's sympathy,
and they were weighing what should be said, when the door-bell rang,
some sounds puzzled them, and just as Felix was getting up to see what
was the matter, Fulbert put his head in at the door, and said, low but
earnestly, 'Step here, Felix, please.'
He thought there must have been some terrible accident; but when from
the top of the stairs he beheld Clement's aspect under the gas in
the passage, and heard the thick tones in which he was holding forth
according to instinct, his consternation was almost greater than at any
injury. Fulbert looked pale and astounded. 'I can't get him upstairs,'
he said.
However, sense enough remained to Clement to give effect to his eldest
brother's stern words, 'Be quiet, and come up;' and they dragged him
stumbling upstairs without more words.
'Where's Lance?' then asked Felix.
'Stayed at the Froggatts'. I wish he hadn't. He will walk home
by-and-by.'
'Now, Ful, run and tell Cherry that nobody is hurt. Do not let her get
frightened.'
Felix spoke resolutely, but he felt so full of dismay and horror,
that he hardly knew what he was doing till Fulbert had returned, and
repressing all poor Clement's broken moralities, they had deposited him
safely in bed, and shut the door on him. Then Fulbert gazed up at Felix
with eyes full of regret and consternation, and he gathered breath to
enter his own room, and say, 'What is the meaning of this?'
'His head must be ridiculously weak; or there was some beastly trick.
Nobody else was the least queer!'
'Marshlands Hall?'
'Well, he had gone on at me so, that when Lance let himself be
persuaded into staying to hang up the lamps, it struck me what a lark
it would be to take Tina across the Hall lands, and then tell him he
had been on the enemy's ground. So I told him of the old chantry that
is turned into a barn, and of course he must go and see it, and take
sketches of the windows for his clergy. While he was doing it, up comes
young Jackman. You know young Jackman at the Potteries--a regular
clever fellow that knows everything?'
'Yes, I know him.'
'Well, they got into early pointed, and late pointed, and billets and
dog-tooths, and all the rest, and Clem went on like a house on fire;
and by that time we had got to the big pond, where Collis and half
a dozen more were, and he had got his skates, and I believe he did
surprise them; they called it first rate.'
'Did he know where he was?'
'Not at the beginning of the skating. I only wanted to get him down
from his altitudes, and never thought it would come to this. You
believe that, Felix?'
'Yes, I do. Go on.'
'It was fine moonlight, and we stayed on ever so long, while Jackman
and Clem and two more danced a quadrille on the ice; and when it was
over everybody was horribly cold, and Captain Collis said we must all
come in and have something hot; and Jackman said he was going to drive
home to dinner at eight, and would take us, but every one got talking,
and it was half-past eight before we started. It was all in such a
scramble, that I had no notion there was anything amiss till Clem began
to talk on the way home.'
'What were they drinking?'
'Various things--brandy-and-water chiefly. I don't like it, and had
some ale; but I was playing with Harry's puppies, and not much noticing
Clem.'
'Do you think it was a trick?'
'I can't tell. He is so innocent, he would have no notion how stiff to
make it. If any one meant mischief, it was Jackman; and I did think
once or twice he had found out Tina, and was playing him off. On the
way home, when I was trying to hinder poor Clem from falling off, he
went on chaffing so, that I longed to jump off, and lay the whip about
his ears.'
'Poor Clem!' said Felix, more grieved and shocked than angry, and not
insensible to Fulbert's being even more appalled, and quite frightened
out of his sulkiness.
'It is a bad business,' he sighed. 'It was all Lance's fault for
letting himself be lugged into that baby party.'
Even this was a great admission, and Felix would not blight it by a
word.
'It is well the girls are not at home,' was all he said.
'I only told Cherry that Clem wasn't well. I can't face her; I shall go
to bed. I would not have had this happen for the world.'
'I shall say nothing to her,' said Felix, dejectedly, turning to leave
the room, under a horrible sense of disgrace and stain on the whole
family; but at the door he was caught hold of by Fulbert, who looked up
at him with a face quite unlike anything he had ever seen in the lad.
'Felix, I never was so sorry in my life. I wish you would give me a
good rowing.'
Felix half smiled. 'I could not,' he said. 'You did not know what you
were doing. Good-night.'
Fulbert gazed after him as he went downstairs, and went back, with a
groan, to his own room.
Felix had never before felt so hopeful about Fulbert; but still he was
too much overset to talk to Cherry, and hurried her off to bed, soon
following her example, for he had not the heart to see Lance that night.
Of course, the first hours of the morning had to be spent in attending
on the victim, whose misery, mental and bodily, was extreme, and was
aggravated by his engagement to the organ. Lance could supply his place
there, and was sent off to do so, but looking as subdued and guilty as
if he had been making Fulbert's confession instead of hearing it, and
stumbling uncomfortably over the explanation that Clement was not well,
and that Felix could not leave him.
For there was a fragility about Clement's long lank frame that made any
shock to it very severe, and he was ill enough to alarm his happily
inexperienced brothers, and greatly increase Fulbert's penitence; but
by the time Mr. Froggatt drove the sisters home, and Wilmet wondered
that she could not go out for a night without some one being ill, he
had arrived at a state which she could be left to attribute to Mrs.
Froggatt's innocent mince-pies.
He burrowed under his blankets, and feigned sleep and discomfort beyond
speech, whenever she came into the room, begging only that the light
might be kept out, and that nobody would speak to him. He was too
utterly miserable for anger with Fulbert, but only showed a sort of
broken-hearted forgiveness, which made Fulbert say in desperation to
Lance, 'I wish you would just fall upon me. I shall not be myself again
till I've been blown up!'
'I suppose you are doing it for yourself, and that is worse,' said
Lance.
'And you know it was all your doing, for going to that disgusting old
Philistine's tea and cake.'
'What, you and Clem wanted me to lead you about, like two dogs in a
string?' said Lance.
'No; Tina would have kept the baby-bunting out of harm's way.'
'More likely he would have bored me into going. Poor Tina! I should
almost like to hear him jaw again! After all, you and he never
promised, and I did.'
'I wish I had,' said Fulbert; 'I am awfully afraid they are getting
hold of it in the town.'
'So am I. Mowbray Smith looked me all over, and asked me after Clement,
when I met him just now in the street, as if he had some malice in his
head.'
'What did you tell him?'
'I said he was in a state of collapse, and that serious fears were
entertained for his life and reason; and then he warned me against the
nineteenth-century manners, and I thanked him and made a bow, and now I
suppose he is gone to tell my Lady.'
When Felix was free in the evening, he found Clement dressed, and
sitting over the fire in his room--so well indeed, that he might have
been downstairs, but that he shrank from every one; and that fire had
been the fruit of such persevering battles of Wilmet and Sibby with the
smoke and soot, that it would have been a waste of good labour to have
deserted it.
'Well, Clem, you are better?'
'Yes, thank you.'
'Head-ache gone?'
'Nearly,' with a heavy sigh.
Felix drew an ancient straw-bottomed chair in front of the fire
backwards, placed himself astride on it, laid his arms on the top
and his forehead on them, and in this imposing Mentorial attitude
began, 'After all, Clem, I don't see that you need be so desperately
broken-hearted. It was mere innocence and ignorance. Water-drinkers at
home are really not on a level with other people. I always have to be
very guarded when I have to dine with the other reporters.'
'No,' said Clement, sadly; 'I do not regard the disgrace as the sin so
much as the punishment.'
It was more sensible than Felix had expected. He was conscious of not
understanding Clement, who always seemed to him like a girl, but if
treated like one, was sure to show himself in an unexpected light.
'You did not know where you were going?'
'Not at first. I found out long before I came off the ice; and then,
like an absurd fool as I was, I thought myself showing how to deal
courteously and hold one's own with such people.'
'You are getting to the bottom of it,' said Felix.
'I have been thinking it over all day,' said Clement, mournfully. 'I
see that such a fall could only be the consequence of long-continued
error. Have I not been very conceited and uncharitable of late, Felix?'
'Not more than usual,' said Felix, intending to speak kindly.
'I see. I have been treating my advantages as if they were merits,
condemning others, and lording it over them. Long ago I was warned that
my danger was spiritual pride, but self-complacency blinded me.' And he
hid his face and groaned.
Felix was surprised. He could not thus have discussed himself, even
with his father; but he perceived that if Clement had no one else
to preach to he would preach to himself, and that this anatomical
examination was done in genuine sorrow.
'No humility!' continued Clement. 'That is what has brought me to this.
If I had distrusted and watched myself, I should have perceived when
I grew inflated by their flattery, and never--egregious fool that I
was--have thought I was showing that one of our St. Matthew's choir
could meet worldly men on their own ground.'
Felix was glad that his posture enabled him to conceal a smile; but
perhaps Clement guessed at it, for he exclaimed, 'A fit consequence, to
have made myself contemptible to everybody!'
'Come, Clem, that is too strong. Your censorious way was bad for
yourself, and obnoxious to us all, and it was very silly to go to that
place after what you had heard.'
'After telling Lance it was unworthy of a servant of the sanctuary,'
moaned Clement.
'Very silly indeed,' continued the elder brother, 'very wrong; but as
to what happened there, it is not reasonable to look at it as more than
an accident. It will be forgotten in a week by all but Fulbert and
yourself, and you will most likely be the wiser for it all your lives.
I never got on so well with Ful before, or saw him really sorry.'
Clement only answered by a disconsolate noise; and Felix was becoming
a little impatient, thinking the penitence overstrained, when he broke
silence with, 'You must let me go up to St. Matthew's!'
'Really, Clement, it is hardly right to let you be always living upon
Mr. Fulmort now your occupation is ended, and it would be braver not to
run away.'
'I do not mean _that!_' cried Clement. 'I will not stay there. I would
not burthen them; but see the Vicar I _must!_ I will go third class,
and walk from the station.'
'The fare of an omnibus will not quite break our backs,' said Felix,
smiling. 'If this is needful to settle your mind, you had better go.'
'You do not know what this is to me,' said Clement, earnestly; 'I
wish you did.' Then perceiving the recurrence to his old propensity,
he sighed pitifully and hung his head, adding, 'It is of no use till
Saturday, the Vicar is gone to his sisters.'
'Very well, you can get a return ticket on Saturday--that is, if the
organist is come back.'
'Lance must play; I am not worthy.'
'You have no right to break an engagement for fancies about your own
worthiness,' said Felix. 'Rouse yourself up, and don't exaggerate the
thing, to alarm all the girls, and make them suspicious.'
'They ought to know. I felt myself a wicked hypocrite when Wilmet
_would_ come and read me the Psalms, and yet I could not tell her. Tell
them, Felix; I cannot bear it without.'
'No, I shall not. You have no right to grieve and disgust them just
because you "cannot bear it without." Cannot you bear up, instead of
drooping and bemoaning in this way? It is not manly.'
'Manliness is the great temptation of this world.'
'You idiot!' Felix, in his provocation, broke out; then getting himself
in hand again, 'Don't you know the difference between true and false
manliness?'
'I know men of the world make the distinction,' said Clement; 'I am not
meaning any censure, Felix. Circumstances have given you a different
standard.'
Felix interrupted rather hotly: 'Only my father's. I have heard him
say, that if one is not a man before one is a parson, one brings the
ministry into contempt. The things the boys call you Tina for are not
what make a good clergyman.'
'I don't feel as if I could presume to seek the priesthood after that.'
'Stuff and nonsense!' cried Felix. 'If no one was ordained who had ever
made a fool of himself and repented, we should be badly off for clergy.
You were conceited and provoking, and have let yourself be led into a
nasty scrape--that's the long and short of the matter; but it is only
hugging your own self-importance to sit honing and moaning up here.
Come down, and behave like a reasonable being.'
'Let me stay here to-night, Felix, I _do_ need it,' said Clement, with
tears in his eyes; 'if I am alone now, I think I can bring myself to
bear up outwardly as you wish.'
The affected tone had vanished, and Felix rose, and kindly put his
hand on his shoulder, and said, 'Do, Clem. You know it is not only my
worldliness--mere man of business as I am--that bids us to hide grief
within, and "anoint the head and wash the face."'
Just then an exulting shout rang through the house, many feet scuttled
upstairs, knocks hailed upon the door, and many voices shouted, 'Mr.
Audley! Felix, Clem, Mr. Audley!'
'Won't you come, Clem?'
'Not to-night; I could not.'
Clement shut the door, and Felix hastened down among the dancing
exulting little ones. 'I thought you were at Rome!' he said, as the
hands met in an eager grasp.
'I was there on Christmas Day; but Dr. White's appointment is settled,
and he wants me to go out with him in June. My brother is gone on to
London, and I must join him there on Saturday.'
'I am glad it is to-day instead of yesterday,' said Wilmet. 'We were
all out but Felix and Cherry, and poor Clement was so ill.'
'Clement ill? Is he better?'
'He will be all right to-morrow,' said Felix.
Mr. Audley detected a desire to elude inquiry, as well as a meaning
look between the two younger boys, and he thought care sat heavier on
the brow of the young master of the house than when they had parted
eighteen months before.
His travels were related, his photographs admired, his lodging arranged
in Mr. Froggatt's room, and after the general good-night, he drew his
chair in to the fire, and prepared for a talk with his ex-ward.
'You look anxious, Felix. Have things gone on pretty well?'
'Pretty fairly, thank you, till just now, when there is rather an ugly
scrape,'--and he proceeded to disburthen his mind of last night's
misadventure; when it must be confessed that the narrative of Clement's
overweening security having had a fall provoked a smile from his
guardian, and an observation that it might do him a great deal of good.
'Yes,' said Felix, 'if his friends do not let him make much of his
penitence, and think it very fine to have so important a thing to
repent of.'
'I don't think they will do that. You must not take Clement as exactly
the fruit of their teaching.'
'There's no humbug about him, at least,' said Felix. 'He is really cut
up exceedingly. Indeed all I have been doing was to get him to moderate
his dolefulness. I believe he thinks me a sort of heathen.'
'Well,' said Mr. Audley, laughing, 'you don't seem to have taken the
line of the model head of the family.'
'The poor boys were both so wretched, that one could not say a word
to make it worse,' said Felix. 'This satisfies me that Fulbert is all
right in that way. He would not have been so shocked if he had ever
seen anything like it before; but though he is very sorry now, I am
afraid it will not cut the connection with those Collises.'
'You do not find him easier to manage?'
'No; that is the worst. He is not half a bad boy--nay, what is called a
well-principled boy--only it is his principle not to mind me. I do not
know whether I am donnish with him, or if I bullied him too much when
he was little; but he is always counter to me. Then he is one of those
boys who want an out-of-door life, and on whom the being shut up in a
town falls hard. The giving up sporting is real privation to him and to
Lance, and much the hardest on him, for he does not care for music or
drawing, or anything of that sort.'
'How old is he?'
'Just sixteen.'
'Suppose I were to take him out to Australia?'
'Fulbert!'
'Yes; I always intended to take one if I went, but I waited till
my return to see about it, and I thought Clement was of a more
inconvenient age; but you must judge.'
'Poor Tina!' said Felix, smiling, 'he would hardly do in a colony. He
is heart and soul a clergyman, and whether he will ever be more of a
man I don't know; but I don't think he could rough it as a missionary.'
'Is he going to get a scholarship?'
'He has tried at Corpus, and failed. He is full young, and I suppose he
ought to go to a tutor. I am afraid he learnt more music than classics
up at that place.'
'Can the tutoring be managed?'
'I suppose a hundred out of that thousand will do it.'
'Is that thousand to go like the famous birth-day five?'
'Five hundred is to be put into the business; but the rest I meant to
keep in reserve for such things as this.'
'If all are to be helped at this rate, your reserve will soon come to
an end.'
'Perhaps so; but I have always looked on Clement as my own substitute.
Indeed, I held that hope out to my father, when it distressed him that
I should give it up. So Clem is pretty well settled, thank you. Besides
I am not afraid of his not going on well here; but I do believe Fulbert
will do the better for being more independent, only it seems to me too
much to let you undertake for us.'
'They are all my charge,' said Mr. Audley; 'and as I am leaving you
the whole burthen of the rest, and my poor little godson is not likely
to want such care, you need have no scruple. One of the Somervilles is
going out to a Government office at Albertstown, and perhaps may put me
in the way of doing something for him.'
Felix mused a moment, then said, 'The only doubt in my mind would be
whether, if it suited you equally, it might not be an opening for
Edgar.'
'Edgar! Surely he is off your hands?'
'I am greatly afraid his present work will not last. He always hated
it, and I believe he always had some fancy that he could persuade Tom
Underwood into making a gentleman of him at once, sending him to the
University or the like, and they petted and admired him enough to
confirm the notion. Mrs. Underwood makes him escort her to all her
parties; and you know what a brilliant fellow he is--sure to be wanted
for all manner of diversions, concerts, private theatricals, and what
not; and you can fancy how the counting-house looks to him after. Tom
Underwood declares he requires nothing of him but what he would of his
own son; and I believe it is true; but work is work with him, and he
will not be trifled with. Here is a letter about it, one of many, I
was trying to answer last night; only this affair of poor Clem's upset
everything.'
'Six brothers are no sinecure, Felix.'
'They are wonderfully little trouble,' said Felix, standing on their
defence. 'They are all good sound-hearted boys; and as to Lance,
there's no saying the comfort that little fellow always is. He has that
peculiar pleasantness about him--like my father and Edgar--that one
feels the moment he is in the house; and he is so steady, with all his
spirits. The other two both say all this could not have happened with
him.'
'High testimony.'
'Yes, as both are inclined to look down on him. But think of that boy's
consideration. He has never once asked me for pocket-money since he
went to the Cathedral. He gets something when the Dean and Canons have
the boys to sing, and makes that cover all little expenses.'
'What do you mean to do with him?'
'If he gets the scholarship, a year and a half hence, he will stay on
two years free of expense. Unluckily, he says that young Harewood is
cleverer than he, and always just before him: but I have some hope in
the hare-brains of Master Bill. If he do not get it--well, we must see,
but it will go hard if Lance cannot be kept on to be educated properly.'
Mr. Audley took the letters, and presently broke into an indignant
exclamation; to which Felix replied--
'The work is not good enough for him, that is the fact.'
'If you are weak about any one, Felix, it is Edgar. I have no patience
with him. His work not _good_ enough, forsooth, considering what yours
is!'
'Mine has much more interest and variety; and he is capable of much
more than I am.'
'Then let him show it, instead of living in the lap of luxury, and
murmuring at a few hours at the desk.'
'I ascribe that to his temperament, which certainly has a good deal of
the artist; that desk-work is peculiarly irksome.'
'Very likely; but it is his plain duty to conquer his dislike. No,
Felix; I wish I could take him away with me, for I am afraid he will be
a source of trouble.'
'Never! Edgar is too considerate.'
'But he is exactly what Australia is over-stocked with already--a
discontented clerk. If he be spoilt by luxury here, do you think he
would bear with a rude colony? No. Fulbert is a gruff, obstinate boy,
but not idle and self-indulgent; and I am not afraid to undertake him,
but I should be of Edgar.'
Felix had flushed up a good deal, for his love for Edgar was less
paternal and more sensitively keen than that for any of the others; but
he was more reasonable, and had more control of temper now, than when
Mr. Audley had last crossed him; and he made answer, 'I believe you are
right, and that Edgar could not be happy in a colony. Any way, you are
most kind to Fulbert. But I am afraid I must go now, or Theodore will
wake.'
'Do you still have him at night?'
'He is not happy with any one else. You have not seen him yet? I am
sure he is improving! There's his voice! Good-night.' And Felix hurried
away, leaving Mr. Audley feeling that though here and there the young
pillar of the house might be mistaken, the daily unselfishness of his
life was a beautiful thing, and likewise impressed by his grave air of
manly resolution and deliberation.
By the morning, Clement had recovered his tone, so as not to obtrude
his penitence or to be much more subdued in manner than usual. Mr.
Audley made him bring his books to the dining-room after breakfast, and
the examination quite exonerated the authorities at Oxford from any
prejudice except against inaccuracy, and showed that a thorough course
of study was needful before he could even matriculate; and Clement in
his present lowliness was not incredulous of any deficiency at St.
Matthew's, but was only meek and mournful.
'What shall I do?' he asked. 'Perhaps some school would take me to
teach and study at the same time. Or I might get an organist's place,
and read so that I might be ordained as a literate at last. It would
come when I was fit, I suppose.'
Mr. Audley only said he would inquire, and talk to Felix; and Clement
pleased him by answering that he could not bear to be an expense to
Felix. The good principle in the boys was quite to be traced, when
presently after it was necessary to put Fulbert to a severe trial. On
going to pay his respects at the Rectory, Mr. Audley found Mr. Mowbray
Smith there, and after some preliminaries, he was asked whether he knew
how the young Underwoods had been going on of late; of course, though,
it would be concealed from him: but it was right, &c. Then Mr. Bevan
feebly suggested that he did not believe there was any truth in it, and
was sharply silenced; and Miss Caroline observed that she was always
sure that Clement Underwood was a great humbug; whereupon, between the
mother, daughter and curate, the popular version of the Marshlands
Hall affair was narrated--or rather versions, for all were beautifully
entangled and contradictory.
Some one had been in the street, and had seen poor Clement's exit from
young Jackman's dog-cart, and reported indiscriminately that it was
'young Underwood.' Lance had not been able to put a sufficiently bold
face on his morning's report of Clement's indisposition and Felix's
absence; and this, together with the boys' hunting propensities, and
Fulbert's visits to Marshlands, had all been concocted into a very
serious accusation of the whole of the brothers, including Felix, of
having entered into a dangerous friendship with Captain Collis, and
underhand enjoying the dissipations of the Hall, which had been the
bane of many a young man of Bexley.
There were different measures of indignation. Miss Price expected a
grand series of denunciations--to Mr. Froggatt--to Miss Pearson, 'whose
niece was always there--most imprudent;'--nay, perhaps to the Dean, and
to the Vicar of St. Matthew's. The least excitement she expected, was
Felix Underwood's expulsion from the choir.
Lady Price merely believed it all, and thought the friends ought to
interfere, and save the poor young things while there was time for any
of them. She would never mention it so as to injure them, but nothing
else could be expected.
Mr. Mowbray Smith supposed there must be some exaggeration, but he
had been surprised at Lancelot's manner, and he did not think Felix's
absence accounted for; he did seem steady--but-- And there was
something unnatural in the way of life at St. Matthew's, that would
make him never trust a lad from thence.
Yes; and even Mr. Bevan did not like St. Matthew's (because it was not
slack or easy), and he too could believe anything of Clement. No doubt
poor Felix found those great brothers getting too much for him.
Mr. Audley was standing by the window. He saw Fulbert with Lance and
little Bernard going down the street, and by one of the sudden dashes
that had often puzzled the Rectory, he flew out at the door, and the
next moment had his hand on Fulbert's shoulder.
'Fulbert, they have made a terrible scandal of this affair at
Marshlands Hall. They fancy Felix had something to do with it.'
'Felix! I should like to punch their heads.'
'You can do better. You can contradict it.'
'But, Sir--'
However, Fulbert, while still following to plead with Mr. Audley, found
himself where he never recollected to have been in his life before,
among the cushions, arm-chairs, and tables covered with knick-knacks,
of the Rectory drawing-room. Mr. Bevan in an easy-chair; Mr. Smith
standing before the fire; Lady Price at work, looking supercilious; and
her daughter writing notes at a davenport.
Mr. Bevan half rose and held out his hand, the others contented
themselves with a nod, while the big, stout lad stood rather like a
great dog under the same circumstances, very angry with everybody, and
chiefly with Mr. Audley--to whom, nevertheless, he trusted for getting
him safe out again.
'Fulbert,' said Mr. Audley, 'Mr. Bevan would be better satisfied if he
could hear what intimacy there has been between your brothers and the
Collises.'
'None at all,' said Fulbert, bluntly.
'My boy,' said the gentle Rector, deprecatingly, 'nobody ever suspected
your eldest brother.'
'I should think not!' exclaimed Fulbert, with angry eyes. 'All he ever
did was to warn us against going. More fools not to mind him!'
'Then,' said my Lady, 'it has been the insubordination and wilfulness
of you younger boys that has nearly involved him in so grave an
imputation.'
'Of nobody's but mine,' returned Fulbert. 'The others would have
nothing to do with it.'
'That cannot be the literal fact,' said Mr. Smith, in a low voice, to
Lady Price. 'There were certainly two of them.'
Fulbert heard, and turning to the Rector, as if he thought every one
else beneath his notice, said, 'The long and short of it is this:
Lance and I picked young Collis out of a ditch, and took him home.
Then Captain Collis asked us rabbit-shooting. Lance never went again,
because Felix did not choose it. I did; and, just by way of a joke, I
took Clement there without his knowing what place it was. We fell in
with them skating, and went into the house, the day before yesterday.
That is,' said Fulbert, concluding as he had begun, 'the long and short
of it. Whatever happened was my fault, and no one else's.'
'A very honest confession!' said kind Mr. Bevan, pleased to have
something to praise.
'And I hope it will act as a warning,' said Lady Price.
'But,' said Mr. Smith, partly incited by Carry's looks, 'it was true
that you--two of you were brought home by young Jackman.'
'Yes,' said Fulbert, growing crimson, 'he drove Clement and me home!'
'And,' said Mr. Audley, 'it was Clement's great distress that kept
Felix at home the next morning.'
'Yes,' said Fulbert, 'there was nobody else but me, and Clem could
hardly bear the sight of me, because I had led him into it. We thought
no one in the house would know it--and I don't believe they do.'
'Ah!' said Lady Price, 'it is false kindness to attempt concealment.'
'From lawful authority it is,' said Mr. Audley; 'but in this case it
was only from children and servants. However, Fulbert, I think you have
fully satisfied Mr. Bevan as to the amount of intercourse between your
brothers and Marshlands.'
'Entirely,' said Mr. Bevan; 'in fact, you may assure your brother that
I never believed anything to his discredit.'
'I shall say nothing about it,' said Fulbert, not choosing to see the
hand held out to him. 'I should be ashamed!--May I go now, Sir?' to Mr.
Audley; and with an odd sort of circular bow, he made his escape; and
Mr. Audley, having remained long enough to ascertain that the worst
that could be said of him was that he was a cub, and that it was a
terrible thing to see so many great hulking lads growing up under no
control, took his leave, and presently came on the three boys again,
consulting at the ironmonger's window over the knife on which Bernard
was to spend a half-crown that Mrs. Froggatt had given him.
'Can Lance and Bernard settle that? I want you a moment, Fulbert. Not
to confront the Rectory again,' he added, smiling. 'It was a horrid
bore for you, but there was no helping it.'
'I suppose not,' said Fulbert, gloomily, as if he did not forgive the
unpleasant moments.
'It was not about that I wanted to speak to you, though,' said Mr.
Audley. 'I wanted to know whether you have any plans or wishes for the
future.'
'I?' said Fulbert, looking up blank.
'Yes, you. You are growing up, Fulbert.'
'I suppose I must take what I can get,' said Fulbert, in the same
sulky, passive voice.
'That may be a wise determination; but have you really no choice?'
'Well, when I was a little chap, and knew no better, I used to think I
would be a soldier or a farmer--but that's all nonsense; and I suppose
I must have some abominable little clerkship,' said Fulbert, with a
certain steadiness for all the growl of his tone.
'Well, Fulbert, have you a mind to try whether the other side of the
world would suit you better?'
Fulbert looked up. 'You don't mean that you would take me out?'
'Yes, I do, if you are inclined to come and try for work at
Albertstown.'
Fulbert, instead of answering, quickened his pace to a walking run,
dashed on, nearly upsetting half a dozen people, and was only checked
by a collision with a perambulator. Then he stood still till Mr. Audley
came up to him, and then again muttered under his breath, 'Go out to
Albertstown!'
They walked on a little way, and then the boy said, 'Say it again,
please.'
Mr. Audley did say it again, in more detail; and Fulbert this time
exclaimed, 'It is the very thing! Thank you, Mr. Audley;' and his face
clearing into a frank, open look, he added, 'I'll try to do my best
there. I wonder I never thought of it before. I would have worked my
way out as a cabin-boy if I had. Where is Lance? Does Felix know?'
There was no sentiment about Fulbert. He jumped at the offer as
instinctively as a young swallow would prepare to migrate, seemed to
brighten all over, and shake off his dull, defiant mood, and gave
no sign of feeling about brother or sister--except that he said he
believed Felix would get on better without him; and that he told Lance
that they would have splendid fun together when he was big enough to
come out and ride a buck-jumper.