Barrington. Volume 2

Stapylton simply shrugged his shoulders, and continued to pace the room without speaking, while Barrington went on muttering, half aloud: “No, no, impossible; quite impossible. These things are not in nature. I don’t credit them.”

“You like to think very well of the world, sir!” said the Major, with a faint scorn, so faint as scarcely to color his words.

“Think very badly of it, and you ‘ll soon come down to the level you assign it,” said Peter, boldly.

“I ‘m afraid I ‘m not in the humor just now to give it my best suffrages. You ‘ve seen, I doubt not, something of the treatment I have met with from the Press for the last few weeks; not very generous usage, – not very just. Well! what will you say when I tell you that I have been refused an inquiry into my conduct at Manchester; that the Government is of opinion that such an investigation might at the moment be prejudicial to the public peace, without any counterbalancing advantage on the score of a personal vindication; that they do not deem the time favorable for the calm and unbiassed judgment of the country; in one short word, sir, they ‘d rather ruin a Major of Hussars than risk a Cabinet. I am to exchange into any corps or any service I can; and they are to tide over these troubles on the assumption of having degraded me.”

“I hope you wrong them, – I do hope you wrong them!” cried Barrington, passionately.

“You shall see if I do,” said he, taking several letters from his pocket, and searching for one in particular. “Yes, here it is. This is from Aldridge, the private secretary of the Commander-in-chief. It is very brief, and strictly secret: —

“‘Dear S., – The “Chief” does not like your scrape at all. You did rather too much, or too little, – a fatal mistake dealing with a mob. You must consent – there’s no help for it – to be badly used, and an injured man. If you don’t like the half-pay list, – which would, in my mind, be the best step, – there ‘s the Seventeenth ordered to Baroda, and Maidstone refuses to go. This, or the Second West India, are the only things open. Above all, don’t show fight; don’t rally a party round you, for there is not a man in England whose influence is sufficiently great to stand between you and the public. A conple of years’ patience and a hot climate will set all right, and reinstate you everywhere. Come over here at once and I ‘ll do my best for you.

“‘Yours ever,

“‘St. George Aldridge.’

“This is a friend’s letter,” said Stapylton, with a sneer; “and he has no better counsel to give me than to plead guilty, and ask for a mitigated punishment.”

Harrington was silenced; he would not by any expression of indignation add to the great anger of the other, and he said nothing. At last he said, “I wish from my heart – I wish I could be of any service to you.”

“You are the only man living who can,” was the prompt answer.

“How so – in what way? Let me hear.”

“When I addressed a certain letter to you some time back, I was in a position both of fortune and prospect to take at least something from the presumption of my offer. Now, though my fortune remains, my future is more than clouded, and if I ask you to look favorably on my cause now, it is to your generosity I must appeal; I am, in fact, asking you to stand by a fallen man.”

This speech, uttered in a voice slightly shaken by agitation, went to Barrington’s heart. There was not a sentiment in his nature so certain to respond to a call upon it as this one of sympathy with the beaten man; the weaker side was always certain of his adherence. With a nice tact Stapylton said no more, but, pushing open the window, walked out upon the smooth sward, on which a faint moonlight flickered. He had shot his bolt, and saw it as it quivered in his victim’s flesh. Barrington was after him in an instant, and, drawing an arm within his he said in a low voice, “You may count upon me.”

Stapylton wrung his hand warmly, without speaking. After walking for a few moments, side by side, he said: “I must be frank with you, Mr. Barrington. I have little time and no taste for circumlocution; I cannot conceal from myself that I am no favorite with your sister. I was not as eager as I ought to have been to cultivate her good opinion; I was a little piqued at what I thought mere injustices on her part, – small ones, to be sure, but they wounded me, and with a temper that always revolted against a wrong, I resented them, and I fear me, in doing so, I jeopardized her esteem. If she is as generous as her brother, she will not remember these to me in my day of defeat. Women, however, have their own ideas of mercy, as they have of everything, and she may not choose to regard me as you have done.”

“I suspect you are wrong about this,” said Harrington, breaking in.

“Well, I wish I may be; at all events, I must put the feeling to the test at once, for I have formed my plan, and mean to begin it immediately.”

“And what is it?”

“Very few words will tell it. I intend to go on half-pay, or sell out if that be refused me; set out for India by the next mail, and, with what energy remains to me, vindicate your son’s claim. I have qualifications that will make me better than a better man. I am well versed in Hindostanee, and a fair Persian scholar; I have a wide acquaintance with natives of every rank, and I know how and where to look for information. It is not my disposition to feel over-sanguine, but I would stake all I possess on my success, for I see exactly the flaws in the chain, and I know where to go to repair them. You have witnessed with what ardor I adopted the suit before; but you cannot estimate the zeal with which I throw myself into it now —now that, like George Barring-ton himself, I am a man wronged, outraged, and insulted.” For a few seconds be seemed overcome by passion and unable to continue; then he went on: “If your granddaughter will accept me, it is my intention to settle on her all I possess. Our marriage can be private, and she shall be free to accompany me or to remain here, as she likes.”

“But how can all this be done so hurriedly? You talk of starting at once.”

“I must, if I would save your son’s cause. The India Board are sending out their emissaries to Calcutta, and I must anticipate them – if I cannot do more, by gaining them over to us on the voyage out. It is a case for energy and activity, and I want to employ both.”

“The time is very short for all this,” said Barrington, again.

“So it is, sir, and so are the few seconds which may rescue a man from drowning! It is in the crisis of my fate that I ask you to stand by me.”

“But have you any reason to believe that my granddaughter will hear you favorably? You are almost strangers to each other?”

“If she will not give me the legal right to make her my heir, I mean to usurp the privilege. I have already been with a lawyer for that purpose. My dear sir,” added he, passionately, “I want to break with the past forever! When the world sets up its howl against a man, the odds are too great! To stand and defy it he must succumb or retreat. Now, I mean to retire, but with the honors of war, mark you.”

“My sister will never consent to it,” muttered Barrington.

“Will you? Have I the assurance of your support?”

“I can scarcely venture to say ‘yes,’ and yet I can’t bear to say ‘no’ to you!”

“This is less than I looked for from you,” said Stapylton, mournfully.

“I know Dinah so well. I know how hopeless it would be to ask her concurrence to this plan.”

“She may not take the generous view of it; but there is a worldly one worth considering,” said Stapylton, bitterly.

“Then, sir, if you count on that, I would not give a copper half-penny for your chance of success!” cried Barrington, passionately.

“You have quite misconceived me; you have wronged me altogether,” broke in Stapylton, in a tone of apology; for he saw the mistake he had made, and hastened to repair it. “My meaning was this – ”

“So much the better. I’m glad I misunderstood you. But here come the ladies. Let us go and meet them.”

“One word, – only one word. Will you befriend me?”

“I will do all that I can, – that is, all that I ought,” said Barrington, as he led him away, and re-entered the cottage.

“I will not meet them to-night,” said Stapylton, hurriedly. “I am nervous and agitated. I will say good-night now.”

This was the second time within a few days that Stapylton had shown an unwillingness to confront Miss Barrington, and Peter thought over it long and anxiously. “What can he mean by it?” said he, to himself. “Why should he be so frank and outspoken with me, and so reserved with her? What can Dinah know of him? What can she suspect, that is not known to me? It is true they never did like each other, – never ‘hit it off’ together; but that is scarcely his fault. My excellent sister throws away little love on strangers, and opens every fresh acquaintance with a very fortifying prejudice against the newly presented. However it happens,” muttered he, with a sigh, “she is not often wrong, and I am very seldom right;” and, with this reflection, he turned once again to resume his walk in the garden.

CHAPTER XII. A DOCTOR AND HIS PATIENT

Stapylton did not make his appearance at breakfast; he sent down a message that he had passed a feverish night, and begged that Dr. Dill might be sent for. Though Barrington made two attempts to see his guest, the quietness of the room on each occasion implied that he was asleep, and, fearing to disturb him, he went downstairs again on tiptoe.

“This is what the persecution has done, Dinah,” said he. “They have brought that stout-hearted fellow so low that he may be the victim of a fever to-morrow.”

“Nonsense, Peter. Men of courage don’t fall sick because the newspapers calumniate them. They have other things on their minds than such puny attacks.”

“So he may, likely enough, too. He is bent heart and soul on what I told you last night, and I ‘m not surprised if he never closed his eyes thinking of it.”

“Neither did I!” said she, curtly, and left the room.

The doctor was not long in arriving, and, after a word or two with Barrington, hastened to the patient’s room.

“Are we alone?” asked Stapylton, cutting short the bland speech with which Dill was making his approaches. “Draw that curtain a bit, and take a good look at me. Are my eyes bloodshot? Are the pupils dilated? I had a bad sunstroke once; see if there be any signs of congestion about me.”

“No, I see none. A little flushed; your pulse, too, is accelerated, and the heart’s action is labored – ”

“Never mind the heart; if the head be well, it will take care of it. Reach me that pocket-book; I want to acquit one debt to you before I incur another. No humbug between us;” and he pressed some notes into the other’s palm as he spoke. “Let us understand each other fully, and at once. I ‘m not very ill; but I want you.”

“And I am at your orders.”

“Faithfully, – loyally?”

“Faithfully, – loyally!” repeated the other after him.

“You’ve read the papers lately, – you’ve seen these attacks on me?”

“Yes.”

“Well, what do they say and think here – I mean in this house – about them? How do they discuss them? Remember, I want candor and frankness; no humbug. I’ll not stand humbug.”

“The women are against you.”

“Both of them?”

“Both.”

“How comes that? – on what grounds?”

“The papers accused you of cruelty; they affirmed that there was no cause for the measures of severity you adopted; and they argued – ”

“Don’t bore me with all that balderdash. I asked you how was it that these women assumed I was in the wrong?”

“And I was about to tell you, if you had not interrupted me.”

“That is, they believed what they read in the newspapers?”

“Yes.”

“And, of course, swallowed that fine story about the Hindoo fellow that I first cut down, and afterwards bribed to make his escape from the hospital?”

“I suspect they half believed it.”

“Or rather, believed half of it, the cutting down part! Can you tell me physiologically, – for I think it comes into that category, – why it is that women not otherwise ill-natured, in nine cases out of ten take the worst alternative as the credible one? But never mind that. They condemn me. Is n’t it so?”

“Yes; and while old Barrington insists – ”

“Who cares what he insists? Such advocacy as his only provokes attack, and invites persecution. I ‘d rather have no such allies!”

“I believe you are right.”

“I want fellows like yourself, doctor, – sly, cautious, subtle fellows, – accustomed to stealing strong medicines into the system in small doses; putting the patient, as you call it in your slang, ‘under the influence’ of this, that, and t’other, – eh?”

Dill smiled blandly at the compliment to his art, and Stapylton went on: —

“Not that I have time just now for this sort of chronic treatment. I need a heroic remedy, doctor. I ‘m in love.”

“Indeed!” said Dill, with an accent nicely balanced between interest and incredulity.

“Yes, and I want to marry!

“Miss Barrington?”

“The granddaughter. There is no need, I hope, to make the distinction, for I don’t wish to be thought insane. Now you have the case. What ‘s your prescription?”

“Propose for her!”

“So I have, but they hesitate. The old man is not unfavorable; he is, perhaps, more: he is, in a measure, friendly; but what avails such advocacy? I want another guess sort of aid, – a clever man; or, what is better still, a clever woman, to befriend me.”

He waited some seconds for a reply, but Dill did not speak; so he went on: “A clever woman, to take a woman’s view of the case, balancing this against that, never ignoring an obstacle, but inquiring what there may be to compensate for it Do you know such a one, doctor?”

“Perhaps I may; but I have my doubts about securing her services.”

“Even with a retainer?”

“Even with a retainer. You see, Major,” – here Dill dropped his voice to a most confidential whisper, – “my daughter Polly, – for I know we both have her in mind, – Polly is a strange sort of girl, and very hard to understand; for while, if the case were her own, she ‘d no more think of romance than she would of giving ten guineas for a dress, if she was advising another whose position and prospects were higher than hers, it’s the romantic part of it she’d lay all the stress on.”

“From which I gather that my suit will not stand this test!” said Stapylton, with a peculiar smile. “Eh, is n’t that your meaning?”

“You are certainly some years older than the lady,” said Dill, blandly.

“Not old enough to be, as the world would surely say, ‘her father,’ but fully old enough to give license for sarcasm.”

“Then, as she will be a great fortune – ”

“Not a sixpence, – she’ll not have sixpence, doctor. That bubble has burst at last, and can never be blown again. The whole claim has been rejected, refused, thrown out, and there ‘s an end of it. It amuses the old man to sit on the wreck and fancy he can repair the shattered timbers and make them seaworthy; and, for the time he is likely to last, it is only kindness to leave him to his delusion; but he is ruined, – ruined beyond recall, and as I have told you, the girl will have nothing.”

“Do they know this, – has Barrington heard it?”

“Yes, I broke it to him last night, but I don’t think he fully realized the tidings; he has certain reserves – certain little conceits of his own – which are to supply him with a sort of hope; but let us talk of something more practical. How can we secure Miss Dill’s services?”

“A few days ago, the easiest way would have been to offer to befriend her brother, but this morning brings us news that this is not needed, – he is coming home.”

“How so?”

“It is a great event in its way; at least, it may be for Tom. It seems there was a collision at sea, somewhere near the Cape, between the ship ‘St. Helen’s,’ that carried out General Hunter and his staff, and the ‘Regulus,’ with the Forty-ninth on board. It was at night, and a terrible sea on at the time. In the shock the ‘St. Helen’s’ took fire; and as the two ships were inextricably locked together, the danger was common to each. While the boats were being lowered and manned, – for it was soon seen the vessel could not be saved, – a cry was raised that the fire was gaining on the fore-hold, and would soon reach the magazine. The woful news spread at once, and many jumped overboard in their terror. Just then Tom heard that there was a means of drowning the powder by opening a certain sluice, and, without waiting for more, he clambered across into the sinking vessel, made his way through smoke and fire, gained the spot, and succeeded, just as the very ladder itself had caught the flames. How he got back he cannot tell, for the vessel foundered in a few minutes, and he was so burned – face, cheek, and one shoulder – that he was unconscious of everything; and even when the account came, was still in bed, and not able to see.”

“He was a wild sort of lad, was he not, – a scamp, in short?”

“No, not exactly that; idle – careless – kept bad company at times.”

“These are the fellows who do this kind of thing once in their lives, – mark you, never twice. They never have more than one shot in their locker, but it will suffice in this case.”

Though the worthy doctor was very far from enthusiastic about his son’s gallantry, there was a degree of coolness in the Major’s estimate of it that almost shocked him; and he sat staring steadily at the stern bronzed face, and the hard lineaments of the man, and wondering of what strange stuff such natures were fashioned.

“It’s quite clear, then, that for Master Tom we can do nothing half so good as chance has done for him,” said Stapylton, after a short interval.

“Chance and himself too,” added the doctor.

Stapylton made no answer, but, covering his eyes with his hand, lay deep in thought.

“If you only had the Attorney-General, Mr. Withering, on your side,” said Dill. “There is no man has the same influence over this family.”

“It is not what you call influence I want, my good sir. It is a far more subtle and more delicate agent. I require the sort of aid, in fact, which your daughter could supply, if she would. An appointment awaits me in India, but I must occupy it at once. I have no time for a long courtship. I ‘m just as hurried as that boy of yours was when he swamped the powder-magazine. It’s a skirmish where I can’t wait for the heavy artillery, but must do my best with the light field-guns, – do you understand me?”

Dill nodded, and Stapylton resumed: “The thing can be done just by the very road that you have pronounced impossible, – that is, by the romantic side of it, – making it a case of violent love at first sight, the passion of a man past the heyday of youth, but yet young enough to feel a most ardent affection. I am, besides,” said he, laughing with a strange blending of levity and sarcasm, “a sort of Brummagem hero; have been wounded, led assaults, and that kind of thing, to a degree that puffery can take the benefit of. And, last of all, doctor, I am rich enough to satisfy greater ambitions than ought to live under such a roof as this. Do you see the part your daughter can take in this drama?”

“Perhaps I do.”

“And could you induce her to accept it?”

“I’m not very certain, – I’d be slow to pledge myself to it.”

“Certainly,” said Stapylton, mockingly; “the passing glimpses we bachelors obtain of the working of that vaunted institution, The Family, fail to impress us with all its imputed excellence; you are, it seems to me, just as powerless within your own doors as I am regarding what goes on in a neighbor’s house. I take it, however, that it can’t be helped. Children, like colonies, are only governable when helpless.”

“I suspect you are wrong, sir; at least, I fancy I have as much of the sort of influence you speak of as others; but still, I think, here, in this particular case, you would yourself be your best ambassador, if you were strong enough to come down with me in the boat to-day.”

“Of course I am!” cried Stapylton, starting up to a sitting posture; “and what then?”

“You would be better in my house than this,” said Dill, mysteriously.

“Speak out, and speak clearly, doctor; I have very little the matter with me, and am in no want of change of air. What I need is the assistance of one dexterous enough to advocate my plans with persons and in places to which I have no access. Your daughter is just such a one, – will she do it?”

“We can ask her.”

“Well, how will you explain my absence to these people here? What will you say for my not appearing at breakfast, and yet being able to take an airing with you?”

“I will put it on hygienic grounds,” said Dill, smiling acutely. “My profession has a number of sanctuaries the profane vulgar can never enter. I ‘ll just step down now and ask Barrington to lend me his boat, and I ‘ll throw out a dark hint that I ‘d like to manage a consultation on your case without alarming you, for which purpose I ‘d ask Dr. Tobin to be at my house, when we arrive there, by mere accident, so that a conference would follow as a matter of course.”

“Very wily, – very subtle all this, doctor. Do you know, I ‘m half frightened at the thought of trusting myself to such a master of intrigue and mystification.”

“Have no fears; I reserve all my craft for my clients.” And with this he left the room, but only for a few minutes; for he met Barrington on the stairs, and speedily obtained permission to take his boat to Inistioge, having first pledged himself to come back with Stapylton to dinner.

“We shall see, we shall see,” muttered Stapylton to himself. “Your daughter must decide where I am to dine today.”

By the way – that is, as they glided along the bright river – Dill tried to prepare Stapylton for the task before him, by sundry hints as to Polly’s temper and disposition, with warnings against this, and cautions about that. “Above all,” said he, “don’t try to overreach her.”

“Perfect frankness – candor itself – is my device. Won’t that do?”

“You must first see will she believe it,” said the doctor, slyly; and for the remainder of the way there was a silence between them.

CHAPTER XIII. CROSS-PURPOSES

“Where ‘s Miss Polly?” said Dill, hastily, as he passed his threshold

“She’s making the confusion of roses in the kitchen, sir,” said the maid, whose chemistry had been a neglected study.

“Tell her that I have come back, and that there is a gentleman along with me,” said he, imperiously, as he led the way into his study. “I have brought you into this den of mine, Major, because I would just say one word more by way of caution before you see Polly. You may imagine, from the small range of her intercourse with the world, and her village life, that her acuteness will not go very far; don’t be too sure of that, – don’t reckon too much on her want of experience.”

“I suppose I have encountered as sharp wits as hers before this time o’ day,” replied he, half peevishly; and then, with an air of better temper, added, “I have no secrets to hide, no mystery to cloak. If I want her alliance, she shall herself dictate the terms that shall requite it.”

The doctor shook his head dubiously, but was silent.

“I half suspect, my good doctor,” said Stapylton, laughing, “that your charming daughter is a little, a very little, of a domestic despot; you are all afraid of her; never very sure of what she will say or do or think on any given circumstances, and nervously alive to the risk of her displeasure.”

“There is something in what you say,” remarked Dill, with a sigh; “but it was always my mistake to bring up my children with too much liberty of action. From the time they were so high” – and he held his hand out about a yard above the floor – “they were their own masters.”

Just as the words had fallen from him, a little chubby, shock-headed fellow, about five years old, burst into the room, which he believed unoccupied, and then, suddenly seeing his papa, set up a howl of terror that made the house ring.

“What is it, Jimmy, – what is it, my poor man?” said Polly, rushing with tucked-up sleeves to the spot; and, catching him up in her arms, she kissed him affectionately.

“Will you take him away? – will you take him out of that?” hissed out Dill between his teeth. “Don’t you see Major Stapylton here?”