Tony Butler Part 52

"Yes, decidedly pleasant," said M'Caskey, with the air of one p.r.o.nouncing a judicial opinion. "The women were nice, very well dressed,--the little Russian, especially; and then we talked away as people only do talk in Paris, where there is none of that rotten cant of London, and no subject discussed but the little trivialities of daily life."

Caffarelli's eyes sparkled with mischievous delight as he watched the expansive vanity in M'Caskey's face, and the disgust that darkened in Maitland's. "We had a little of everything," said M'Caskey, with his head thrown back and two fingers of one hand jauntily stuck in his waistcoat pocket. "We had politics,--Plon-Plon's own peculiar politics,--Europe a democracy, and himself the head of it. We discussed dinners and dinner-givers,--a race fast dying out We talked a little finance, and, lastly, women."

"Your own theme!" said Caffarelli, with a slight inclination of the head.

"Without vanity I might say it was. Poor old D'Orsay always said, 'Scratch M'Caskey, and I'll back myself for success against any man in Europe.'"

Maitland started as if a viper had bitten him; but by an effort he seemed to restrain himself, and, taking out his cigar-case, began a diligent search for a cigar.

"Ha, cheroots, I see?" cried M'Caskey; "cheroots are a weakness of mine.

Pick me out a well-spotted one, will you?"

Maitland threw the case as it was across the table to him without a word.

M'Caskey selected some six or eight, and laid them beside him. "You are low, depressed, this evening, Maitland," said he; "what's the matter with you?"

"No, sir, not depressed,--disgusted."

"Ah, disgusted!" said M'Caskey, slowly; and his small eyes twinkled like two b.a.l.l.s of fire. "Would it be indiscreet to ask the cause?"

"It would be very indiscreet, Count M'Caskey," interposed Caffarelli, "to forget that you are here purely on a grave matter of business,--far too grave to be compromised by any forgetfulness on the score of temper."

"Yes, sir," broke in Maitland; "there can always be found a fitting time and place to arrange any small questions outstanding between you and me.

We want now to learn something of what you have done in Ireland lately, for the King's service."

M'Caskey drew from his pocket a much-worn pocket-book, crammed to bursting with a variety of loose papers, cards, and photographs, which fell about as he opened it. Not heeding the disorder, he sought out a particular page, and read aloud: "Embarked this twenty-second of September, at Gravesend, on board the 'Ocean Queen,' bound for Messina with machinery, two hundred and eleven laborers--laborers engaged for two years--to work on the State railroads, twenty-eight do. do. on board of the 'Star of Swansea,' for Molo de Gaeta with coals,--making, with three hundred and eighty-two already despatched, within about thirty of the first battalion of the Cacciatori of St Patrick."

"Well done! bravissimo!" cried Caffarelli, right glad to seize upon the opportunity to restore a pleasanter understanding.

"There's not a man amongst them would not be taken in the Guards; and they who regard height of stature as the first element of the soldier--amongst whom I am not one--would p.r.o.nounce them magnificent!"

"And are many more available of the same sort?" asked Caffarelli.

"Ten thousand, sir, if you like to pay for them."

"Do these men understand that they are enlisted as soldiers, not engaged as navvies?" asked Maitland.

"As well as you do. Whatever our friend Caffarelli may think, I can tell him that my countrymen are no more deficient in acuteness than his own.

These fellows know the cause just as well as they know the bounty."

"I was not inquiring as to their sympathies," said Mait-land, caustically; "I merely wanted to hear how they understood the contract."

"They are hirelings, of course, as I am, and as you are," said M'Caskey.

"By what presumption, sir, do you speak of me?" said Maitland, rising, his face dark with pa.s.sion. "If the accidents of life range us in the same cause, is there any other tie or bond between us?"

"Once more I declare I will have none of this," said Caffarelli, pus.h.i.+ng Maitland down into his chair. "Count M'Caskey, the Central Committee have placed you under my orders. These orders are that you report yourself to General Filangieri at Naples as soon as you can arrive there; that you duly inform the Minister at War of what steps you have already taken in the recruitment, putting yourself at his disposition for further service. Do you want money?" added he in a lower tone, as he drew the Major aside.

"A man always wants money, sir," said M'Caskey, sententiously.

"I am your banker: what shall it be?" said Caffarelli, drawing out his pocket-book.

"For the present," said M'Caskey, carelessly, "a couple of thousand francs will suffice. I have a rather long bill against his Majesty, but it can wait."

He pocketed the notes without deigning to look at them, and then, drawing closer to Caffarelli, said, in a whisper, "You 'll have to keep your friend yonder somewhat 'better in hand,'--you will, really. If not, I shall have to shoot him."

"The Chevalier Maitland is your superior officer, sir," said Caffarelli, haughtily. "Take care how you speak of him to any one, but more especially to me, who am his friend."

"I am at his 'friend's' orders, equally," said the Major; "my case contains two pistols."

Caffarelli turned away with a shrug of the shoulder, and a look that unmistakably bespoke disgust.

"Here goes, then, for the stirrup-cup!" said M'Caskey, filling a large goblet with Burgundy. "To our next meeting, gentlemen," and he bowed as he lifted it to his lips. "Won't you drink to my toast?" said he, stopping.

Caffarelli filled his gla.s.s, and touched it to his lips; but Maitland sat with his gaze bent upon the fire, and never looked up.

"Present my homage to the pretty widow when you see her, Maitland, and give her that;" and he flung down a photograph on the table. "It's not a good one, but it will serve to remind her of me."

Maitland seized the card and pitched it into the fire, pressing down the embers with his boot.

Caffarelli sprang forward, and laid his hands on M'Caskey's shoulders.

"When and where?" said the Major, calmly.

"Now--here--if you like," said Maitland, as calmly.

"At last," said a deep voice; and a brigadier of the gendarmerie entered, followed by two of his men.

"M. le Comte," said he, addressing the Major, "I have been in search of you since eleven o'clock. There 's a special train waiting to convey you to Macon; pray don't lose any more time."

"I shall be at Naples within a fortnight," whispered Maitland.

"All right," replied M'Caskey. "M. le Brigadier, _a vos ordres_.

Good-bye, Count. By the way, I was forgetting my cheroots, which are really excellent;" and so saying, he carefully placed them in his cigar-case; and then, giving his great-coat to one of the gendarmes to a.s.sist him while he drew it on, he waved a little familiar adieu with his hand and departed.

"My dear Maitland, how could you so far forget yourself, and with such a man?" said Caffarelli, laying his hands on his shoulder.

"With any _other_ man I could _not_ have forgotten myself," said he, sternly. "Let us think no more of him."

CHAPTER x.x.xI. TWO FRIENDS

It was like a return to his former self--to his gay, happy, careless nature--for Tony Butler to find himself with his friend Skeflfy. As painters lay layers of the same color on, one over the other, to deepen the effect, so does youth double itself by companions.h.i.+p. As for Skeflfy, never did a schoolboy exult more in a holiday; and, like a schoolboy, his spirits boiled over in all manner of small excesses, practical jokes on his fellow-pa.s.sengers, and all those glorious tomfooleries, to be able to do which with zest is worth all the enjoyment that ever cynicism yielded twice told.

"I was afraid you would n't come. I did n't see you when the coach drove into the inn-yard; and I was so disappointed," said Tony, as he surveyed the ma.s.s of luggage which the guard seemed never to finish depositing before his friend.

"Two portmanteaus, sir," said the guard, "three carpetbags, a dressing-case, a hat-box, a gun-case, bundle of sticks and umbrellas, and I think this parrot and cage are yours."