A History of Pendennis Volume II Part 28

It's Mr. Arthur has been telling, hang him, thought the valet.

"I'm glad my place is such a good one."

"Thank you, sir--I've no reason to complain of my place, nor of my master," replied Morgan, demurely.

"You're a good fellow: and I believe you are attached to me; and I'm glad you get on well. And I hope you'll be prudent, and not be taking a public-house or that kind of thing."

A public-house, thought Morgan--me in a public-house!--the old fool!--Dammy, if I was ten years younger I'd set in Parlyment before I died, that I would. "No, thank you kindly, sir. I don't think of the public line, sir. And I've got my little savings pretty well put out, sir."

"You do a little in the discounting way, eh, Morgan?"

"Yes, sir, a very little--I--I beg your pardon, sir--might I be so free as to ask a question--"

"Speak on, my good fellow," the elder said, graciously.

"About Sir Francis Clavering's paper, sir? Do you think he's any longer any good, sir? Will my lady pay on 'em, any more, sir?"

"What, you've done something in that business already?"

"Yes, sir, a little," replied Morgan, dropping down his eyes. "And I don't mind owning, sir, and I hope I may take the liberty of saying, sir, that a little more would make me very comfortable if it turned out as well as the last."

"Why, how much have you netted by him, in Gad's name?" asked the major.

"I've done a good bit, sir, at it: that I own, sir. Having some information, and made acquaintance with the fam'ly through your kindness, I put on the pot, sir."

"You did what?"

"I laid my money on, sir--I got all I could, and borrowed, and bought Sir Francis's bills; many of 'em had his name, and the gentleman's as is just gone out, Edward Strong, Esquire, sir: and of course I know of the blow hup and s.h.i.+ndy as is took place in Grosvenor-place, sir: and as I may as well make my money as another, I'd be _very_ much obleeged to you if you'd tell me whether my lady will come down any more."

Although Major Pendennis was as much surprised at this intelligence regarding his servant, as if he had heard that Morgan was a disguised marquis, about to throw off his mask and a.s.sume his seat in the House of Peers; and although he was of course indignant at the audacity of the fellow who had dared to grow rich under his nose, and without his cognizance; yet he had a natural admiration for every man who represented money and success, and found himself respecting Morgan, and being rather afraid of that worthy, as the truth began to dawn upon him.

"Well, Morgan," said he, "I mustn't ask how rich you are; and the richer the better for your sake, I'm sure. And if I could give you any information that could serve you, I would speedily help you. But frankly, if Lady Clavering asks me whether she shall pay any more of Sir Francis's debts, I shall advise and I hope she won't, though I fear she will--and that is all I know. And so you are aware that Sir Francis is beginning again in his--eh--reckless and imprudent course?"

"At his old games, sir--can't prevent that gentleman. He will do it."

"Mr. Strong was saying that a Mr. Moss Abrams was the holder of one of Sir Francis Covering's notes. Do you know any thing of this Mr.

Abrams, or the amount of the bill?"

"Don't know the bill--know Abrams quite well, sir."

"I wish you would find out about it for me. And I wish you would find out where I can see Sir Francis Clavering, Morgan."

And Morgan said, "thank you, sir, yes, sir, I will, sir;" and retired from the room, as he had entered it, with his usual stealthy respect and quiet humility; leaving the major to muse and wonder over what he had just heard.

The next morning the valet informed Major Pendennis that he had seen Mr. Abrams; what was the amount of the bill that gentleman was desirous to negotiate; and that the baronet would be sure to be in the back parlor of the Wheel of Fortune Tavern that day at one o'clock.

To this appointment Sir Francis Clavering was punctual, and as at one o'clock he sat in the parlor of the tavern in question, surrounded by spittoons, Windsor chairs, cheerful prints of boxers, trotting horses, and pedestrians, and the lingering of last night's tobacco fumes--as the descendant of an ancient line sate in this delectable place, accommodated with an old copy of Bell's Life in London, much blotted with beer, the polite Major Pendennis walked into the apartment.

"So it's you, old boy?" asked the baronet, thinking that Mr. Moss Abrams had arrived with the money.

"How do you do, Sir Francis Clavering? I wanted to see you, and followed you here," said the major, at sight of whom the other's countenance fell. Now that he had his opponent before him, the major was determined to make a brisk and sudden attack upon him, and went into action at once. "I know," he continued, "who is the exceedingly disreputable person for whom you took me, Clavering; and the errand which brought you here."

"It ain't your business, is it?" asked the baronet, with a sulky and deprecatory look. "Why are you following me about and taking the command, and meddling in my affairs, Major Pendennis? I've never done _you_ any harm, have I? I've never had _your_ money. And I don't choose to be dodged about in this way, and domineered over. I don't choose it, and I won't have it. If Lady Clavering has any proposal to make to me, let it be done in the regular way, and through the lawyers. I'd rather not have you."

"I am not come from Lady Clavering," the major said, "but of my own accord, to try and remonstrate with you, Clavering, and see if you can be kept from ruin. It is but a month ago that you swore on your honor, and wanted to get a Bible to strengthen the oath, that you would accept no more bills, but content yourself with the allowance which Lady Clavering gives you. All your debts were paid with that proviso, and you have broken it; this Mr. Abrams has a bill of yours for sixty pounds."

"It's an old bill. I take my solemn oath it's an old bill," shrieked out the baronet.

"You drew it yesterday, and you dated three months back purposely. By Gad, Clavering, you sicken me with lies, I can't help telling you so.

I've no patience with you, by Gad. You cheat every body, yourself included. I've seen a deal of the world, but I never met your equal at humbugging. It's my belief you had rather lie than not."

"Have you come here, you old, old beast, to tempt me to--to pitch into you, and--and knock your old head off?" said the baronet, with a poisonous look of hatred at the major.

"What, sir?" shouted out the old major, rising to his feet and clasping his cane, and looking so fiercely, that the baronet's tone instantly changed toward him.

"No, no," said Clavering piteously, "I beg your pardon. I didn't mean to be angry, or say any thing unkind, only you're so d.a.m.ned harsh to me, Major Pendennis. What is it you want of me? Why have you been hunting me so? Do _you_ want money out of me too? By Jove, you know I've not got a s.h.i.+lling,"--and so Clavering, according to his custom, pa.s.sed from a curse into a whimper.

Major Pendennis saw from the other's tone, that Clavering knew his secret was in the major's hands.

"I've no errand from any body, or no design upon you," Pendennis said, "but an endeavor, if it's not too late, to save you and your family from utter ruin, through the infernal recklessness of your courses. I knew your secret--"

"I didn't know it when I married her; upon my oath I didn't know it till the d--d scoundrel came back and told me himself; and it's the misery about that which makes me so reckless, Pendennis; indeed it is;" the baronet cried, clasping his hands.

"I knew your secret from the very first day when I saw Amory come drunk into your dining-room in Grosvenor-place. I never forget faces.

I remember that fellow in Sidney a convict, and he remembers me. I know his trial, the date of his marriage, and of his reported death in the bush. I could swear to him. And I know that you are no more married to Lady Clavering than I am. I've kept your secret well enough, for I've not told a single soul that I know it--not your wife, not yourself till now."

"Poor Lady C., it would cut her up dreadfully," whimpered Sir Francis; "and it wasn't my fault, major; you know it wasn't."

"Rather than allow you to go on ruining her as you do, I _will_ tell her, Clavering, and tell all the world too; that is what I swear I will do, unless I can come to some terms with you, and put some curb on your infernal folly. By play, debt, and extravagance of all kind, you've got through half your wife's fortune, and that of her legitimate heirs, mind--her legitimate heirs. Here it must stop. You can't live together. You're not fit to live in a great house like Clavering; and before three years more were over would not leave a s.h.i.+lling to carry on. I've settled what must be done. You shall have six hundred a year; you shall go abroad and live on that. You must give up Parliament, and get on as well as you can. If you refuse, I give you my word I'll make the real state of things known to-morrow; I'll swear to Amory, who, when identified, will go back to the country from whence he came, and will rid the widow of you and himself together. And so that boy of yours loses at once all t.i.tle to old Snell's property, and it goes to your wife's daughter. Ain't I making myself pretty clearly understood?"

"You wouldn't be so cruel to that poor boy, would you, Pendennis?"

asked the father, pleading piteously; "hang it, think about him. He's a nice boy: though he's dev'lish wild, I own--he's dev'lish wild."

"It's you who are cruel to him," said the old moralist. "Why, sir, you'll ruin him yourself inevitably in three years."

"Yes, but perhaps I won't have such dev'lish bad luck, you know; the luck must turn: and I'll reform, by Gad, I'll reform. And if you were to split on me, it would cut up my wife so; you know it would, most infernally."

"To be parted from _you_," said the old major, with a sneer; "you know she won't live with you again."

"But why can't Lady C. live abroad, or at Bath, or at Tunbridge, or at the doose, and I go on here?" Clavering continued. "I like being here better than abroad, and I like being in Parliament. It's dev'lish convenient being in Parliament. There's very few seats like mine left; and if I gave it to 'em, I should not wonder the ministry would give me an island to govern, or some dev'lish good thing; for you know I'm a gentleman of dev'lish good family, and have a handle to my name, and--and that sort of thing, Major Pendennis. Eh, don't you see? Don't you think they'd give me something dev'lish good if I was to play my cards well? And then, you know, I'd save money, and be kept out of the way of the confounded h.e.l.ls and _rouge et noir_--and--and so I'd rather not give up Parliament, please." For at one instant to hate and defy a man, at the next to weep before him, and at the next to be perfectly confidential and friendly with him, was not an unusual process with our versatile-minded baronet.

"As for your seat in Parliament," the major said, with something of a blush on his cheek, and a certain tremor, which the other did not see "you must part with that, Sir Francis Clavering, to--to me."

"What! are you going into the House, Major Pendennis?"

"No--not I; but my nephew, Arthur, is a very clever fellow, and would make a figure there: and when Clavering had two members, his father might very likely have been one; and--and I should like Arthur to be there," the major said.

"Dammy, does _he_ know it, too?" cried out Clavering.