Читать книгу The Miser's Daughter - William Harrison Ainsworth - Страница 6

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The two brothers Beechcroft, Randulph's uncles, lived in a retired house in Lambeth, close to the river, and a little to the west of the palace. Both were middle-aged men,—that is to say,—for it is difficult to determine what is the middle age, now-a-days, though it was not quite so difficult to fix the period in the last century,—one was fifty-six, and the other ten years younger, and both bachelors. That they lived together, and in this retired way, was not so much matter of choice as of necessity on the part of the younger brother, Trussell, for he would have preferred, if it had been in his power, a gayer kind of life. But fortune decreed it otherwise. The father of the brothers was a wealthy merchant, who was determined to make an elder son, and he accordingly left the bulk of his property, except some trifling bequests to his daughter Sophia (Randulph's mother) and Trussell, to his first-born Abel. Abel, however, behaved very handsomely upon the occasion. He instantly made over to his brother what he considered his rightful share of the property, and to his sister another division. In neither case did the gift prosper. Trussell soon squandered away all his modicum in gaming and every other sort of extravagance, while Sophia's portion was dissipated, though in a different way, by her thoughtless and improvident husband. There are, indeed, so many ways of getting rid of money, that it is difficult to say which is the most expeditious; nor would it be easy to tell whether Trussell or his sister soonest got rid of their brother's bounty. A small sum had been settled upon Mrs. Crew by her father, at the time of her marriage, and on this she now lived.

Completely reduced in circumstances, Trussell was thrown upon his brother, who very kindly received him, but compelled him to live in his own quiet manner. This did not suit the more mercurial brother, and he more than once tried to live on his own resources; but failing, in the attempt, he was compelled to come back to the old quarters. Now that age had somewhat calmed him, he was more reconciled to his situation. Having little money to spend, for his brother of course regulated his allowance, he could not indulge in any of the dearer amusements,—he could neither play nor frequent the more expensive coffee-houses, clubs, theatres, opera, or other places of public entertainment, except on rare occasions. But he was daily to be seen sauntering on the Mall, or in Piccadilly, and as he had a tolerably extensive acquaintance with the beau monde, he was at no loss for society. The Cocoa-Tree and White's were too extravagant for him,—the Smyrna and the Saint James' too exclusively political,—Young Man's too Military,—Old Man's too much frequented by stock-jobbers,—and Little Man's by sharpers,—so he struck a middle course, and adopted the British. This was during the day-time, but after the play; if by chance he went thither, he would drop into Tom's or Will's coffee-houses, to talk over the performance—to play a game at picquet—or to lose a half-crown at faro. But nothing would tempt him to risk, even the smallest sum, at hazard. The ordinaries he rarely attended; never, indeed, unless invited by a friend to dine with him at one of them.

Such was Trussell Beechcroft's daily routine. Perfectly well-bred, of easy and polished manners, good taste, and imperturbable temper, he was an acceptable companion everywhere, and it was a matter of surprise to all that he had not got on better in the world. Trussell was about the middle height, somewhat corpulent and short-necked, and had a round full face. He was by no means handsome, nor had he ever been so, but his features were decidedly prepossessing. He was scrupulously neat in his attire, and a little, perhaps, too attentive to personal decoration for an elderly gentleman: at least his brother thought so.

Abel Beechcroft was a very different character. Some early disappointment in life, in a matter of the heart, it was reported, had soured his temper, and given a misanthropic turn to his mind. He mingled little with the world, and when he did so it was only to furnish himself with fresh material for railing at its follies. He was a confirmed woman-hater, shunned the society of the sex, and never would see his sister after her marriage, because she had in some way or other, though in what was never disclosed, been connected with the bitterest event in his life. In person, Abel was short, thin, and slightly deformed, having very high shoulders, almost amounting to a hump; and his neck being short, like his brother's, his large chin almost reposed upon his chest. His features were somewhat coarse, with a long prominent nose, and pointed chin, but his broad, massive forehead, and keen gray eyes, gave a great degree of intelligence to them, while his shrewd, satirical expression redeemed them from anything like a common-place character.

It has been said that he lived quietly, but he also lived very comfortably. Nothing could be more snug than his retreat at Lambeth, with its fine garden, its green-house, its walls covered with fruit trees, and its summer-house with windows commanding the river, and frescoed ceiling painted in the time of Charles the Second, at which epoch the house was built, and the garden laid out. Then he had some choice pictures of the Flemish school, two or three of Charles's beauties, undoubted originals, by Lely and Kneller, but placed in his brother's room, to be out of his own sight—an arrangement to which Trussell raised no objection; plenty of old china, and old japanned cabinets; a good library, in which the old poets, the old dramatists, and the old chroniclers found a place; and above all a good store of old wine. He was in fact by no means indifferent to good cheer, and enjoyed life in his own way with a keen zest. He had an old butler who managed all for him, for he would never suffer a female servant to come in his sight, and this person, Josiah Jukes, or as he was generally called, Mr. Jukes, was the only individual that ever presumed to contradict him.

Randulph's uncles had been apprised of his visit to town, and they were therefore expecting his arrival. The journey from Knutsford in Cheshire, whence he had started, occupied five days. He was attended by a raw country lad, who served him as groom, and whom he had sent forward to announce his arrival to his uncles, while he left the packet with Mr. Scarve; but poor Tom Birch, for so the lad was called, missed his way, and instead of turning to the right after crossing Westminster bridge, went to the left, and strayed to Saint George's Fields; nor was it till an hour after his master's arrival that he found his way to the house in Lambeth.

Abel Beechcroft, who had expected his nephew early in the day, and had in fact waited dinner for him—a compliment he very rarely paid to any one,—became, as he did not appear, waspish and peevish to a degree that his brother's patience could hardly tolerate. He grumbled during the whole of dinner, which he declared was uneatable, and when the cloth was removed, began to find fault with the wine.

"This bottle's corked," he said, as he tasted the first glass; "all the fault of that young fellow. I wish I had never promised to receive him. I dare say some accident has happened to him. I hope it may turn out so."

"You don't hope any such thing, sir," remarked Mr. Jukes, a little round rosy man in a plain livery, "you don't hope any such thing, so don't belie yourself, and do your good heart an injustice. The wine's not corked," he added, taking the bottle to the sideboard, and tasting it. "Try another glass. Your palate's out of order."

"And well it may be, Mr. Jukes," replied Abel, "for my digestion has been sadly disturbed by this waiting. Ah! I find I was mistaken," he added, tasting the glass poured out for him, "there is nothing the matter with the wine."

"On the contrary, sir, I think it an excellent bottle," remarked Trussell, "and I propose that we drink our worthy sister's good health,—Heaven bless her! Much I should like to see her!—and her son's safe and speedy arrival."

"Come, sir, you cannot refuse that pledge," said Mr. Jukes, filling his master's glass. "I must drink it myself," he added, again carrying the bottle to the sideboard.

"Well, I wonder what we shall find Randulph like," mused Trussell, "for we have not seen him since he was a little fellow not higher than this table, when his poor father brought him to town."

"By the same token that his poor father borrowed two thousand pounds of me at the time, every farthing of which I lost," growled Abel.

"Well, well, no matter sir. You never felt the loss, so what does it signify," remarked Mr. Jukes.

"I have no doubt Randulph will be a very fine young man," pursued Trussell; "Sophia writes word that he is her exact image, and she was certainly the finest woman of her day."

"Ay, ay!" cried Abel, shrugging his shoulders uneasily. "Change the subject, brother. Change the subject."

For some minutes there was a profound silence, which was at length broken by Abel.

"I suppose you mean to take this young lad, if he comes, to see all the sights, brother?" he remarked.

"Oh, of course, sir, of course," replied Trussell, "I must introduce him to the world; shew him all the public places, and public characters, and give him a slight taste of town life."

"Let it be a very slight taste, brother," rejoined Abel, sharply, "and not enough to give him an appetite for pernicious food. Our nephew must be perfectly unsophisticated, and I doubt not, from what I hear of him, and indeed know of him, a youth of excellent principles. I think his conduct, in surrendering his estates to his father's creditors, noble. I have great hopes of him, and if he turns out well, will take care he does not lose in the end by his disinterestedness. But that depends upon himself, and in some degree on you."

"On me, sir! How so?" asked Trussell.

"Thus," replied the elder brother; "thus. He is coming to town; you will give him certain introductions; these may turn out to his advantage—may raise him in society, in the world. If so, well and good. But if you only teach him to ape the follies and vices of those of a higher rank than himself—if you make him a weak and frivolous, and perhaps vicious, character; if, in short, you expose him to a test which he cannot bear, I cast him off, and will have nothing to do with him."

"And provided he answers your expectations, do you propose to leave him a fortune, sir? or to give him one?" inquired Trussell, curiously.

"Why do you ask, brother—why do you ask?" demanded Abel, eyeing him narrowly from beneath his great bent brows.

"Nay; I only ask out of mere curiosity, sir," replied Trussell, seizing the bottle in some confusion. "I could have no other motive."

"Hem!" cried Abel, coughing drily.

"I'll bring you more wine in a moment, gentlemen," interposed Mr. Jukes; "the bottle is empty Mr. Trussell."

"So it is, Mr. Jukes," replied Trussell. "Well; I'll do my best, sir, to be a Mentor to him, and I hope I may succeed in carrying him through the fiery furnace unscathed. But you must not be too hard upon him if he should be guilty of some slight indiscretion. You must recollect, sir, that we have been young ourselves; and that few men have their passions so much under control as yourself."

"I!" exclaimed Abel, with bitter contempt. "You are mocking me, brother. But go on."

"I have nothing more to add, sir," replied Trussell.

"Then I will speak!" said Abel, in a low, deep tone, and bending towards his brother. "Trussell, one word more on this subject, and I dismiss it. Whether I make my nephew my heir or not, will make no difference to you. What I have done for you, I have done, and I shall do no more. You can have no motive, therefore, for leading him astray."

"I am grieved to find you should think me capable of such a base design," replied Trussell, colouring deeply; "but I will take no offence at what you say, I know my own heart and intentions too well."

"I only gave you a hint, brother," replied Abel, chuckling, "I know that a shrewd man of the world—that is, a clever scoundrel—would act in such a way; and if he succeeded, would be applauded for this conduct. I am glad you take the caution in good part."

Here Mr. Jukes opportunely entered with a fresh bottle of wine, which proved in admirable condition; and Abel having expended his ill-humour, the conversation was carried on in a much more agreeable manner for an hour, when both brothers adjourned to the garden, and smoked a pipe in the summer-house. It was a charming evening, and the river, which was studded with boats, presented a lively and pleasant sight. As night drew on, however, Abel, in spite of himself, could not conceal his uneasiness.

"Something must have happened to the lad, Jukes," he said: "my mind misgives me. He has been robbed, and perhaps maltreated by some of the highwaymen that haunt Finchley Common."

"Poh! poh! don't make yourself uneasy," replied Mr. Jukes. "He'll be here presently, I'll warrant him. What has he to be robbed of?"

"Nothing much, that's certain," replied Abel. "But it is getting late. It must be near ten o'clock. He won't even be in time for supper."

"I've ordered supper to be kept back an hour, sir," said Jukes.

"The devil you have!" cried Abel angrily. "And do you think I'll submit to such an arrangement? Would you ruin my digestion, rascal? My stomach is as regular as clockwork. Serve it, directly, sirrah!"

As Mr. Jukes departed to see his master's commands obeyed, he was agreeably surprised by a loud knocking at the outer door, and, waddling thither with the other servants as fast as he could, was enchanted to find the summons proceeded from the expected guest. Randulph's horse was taken charge of, and he himself speedily ushered into the presence of his uncles, who both welcomed him warmly and affectionately; though Abel could not help mixing up with his greetings some reproofs for his late arrival. Randulph replied that he had sent on his servant to announce him, and account for the delay, and it then came out that the lad had not made his appearance. The young man then went on to explain the motive of his visit to Mr. Scarve. At the mention of this name, Randulph observed both his uncles look extremely blank. Uncle Abel in particular seemed angry and disconcerted.

"You must never go near that house again," said the latter, at length, in an authoritative tone. "Mark me—on pain of my displeasure, I forbid it."

"Why so, uncle?" asked Randulph, who had been schooled by his mother to treat Abel with great deference.

"Don't ask me," replied Abel. "It is sufficient that I forbid you."

Randulph felt disposed to remonstrate, more especially as the figure of the beautiful Hilda Scarve rose before his recollection; but Uncle Abel at that moment turning away, his sleeve was plucked by Uncle Trussell, who whispered in his ear, "Do not disobey him, or you will mar your future fortunes."

Thus advised, the young man made no reply. Soon after this, supper was served, and before it was concluded, Randulph's groom arrived. Many questions were put to his nephew by Uncle Trussell respecting his sister, her state of health, and other matters, all of which were answered very satisfactorily. The time for parting, however, came, and Randulph was not sorry to retire. The only thing that dwelt on his mind and clouded his satisfaction, was Uncle Abel's peremptory interdiction against his visits to the miser, and he felt he should have difficulty in observing it.

"It is strange," he thought, "that my mother should never have answered any of my inquiries respecting Mr. Scarve. She seemed as mysterious as my uncles. I don't much like the old man. But the daughter is charming. Heigho! I must positively see her again, even if I incur Uncle Abel's sovereign displeasure."

Next morning, the uncles and their nephew met at breakfast at an early hour, when the subjects discussed on the previous night were renewed. Now that he had completely shaken off the fatigue of his journey, Randulph looked so handsome, that both his relations were greatly taken with him, and on the conclusion of some remark, Uncle Abel said, as if unconsciously, "He is, indeed, very like his mother."

Some few hours were then spent by the young man in arranging his little wardrobe, and in looking out some letters which he had promised to deliver. He missed one, however, and after turning over every article he possessed more than a dozen times, concluded he had lost it. What made the matter more provoking was, that he could not recollect to whom it was addressed. As he had received it amongst others from his mother, to whom it had been committed by a friend, he mentioned its loss in a despatch which he proceeded to write to her, and also detailed his safe arrival, and the impressions made upon him by his uncles and Mr. Scarve. Strange to say, he did not mention Hilda; and he could not easily account to himself for the reluctance he felt to allude to her. His letter concluded, he went down stairs, and found both his uncles prepared for a stroll. Accordingly, they all three went forth, and, crossing Westminster Bridge, shaped their course towards Saint James's Park. As they passed the Little Sanctuary, Randulph could not help gazing towards the dungeon-like dwelling which enshrined her who had made so deep an impression upon him. Uncle Abel noticed his look, and partly divining the cause of it, said, "Remember what I told you. Disobey me, and you will rue it."

Randulph would have made some reply, but he was checked by a significant glance from Uncle Trussell.

Having passed through the Gate House, they entered the Park by a small doorway at the end of Prince's-court. It was now noon, and a warm and genial day. The paths between the avenues of trees then extending between this point and Rosamond's Pond were crowded with persons of both sex, and of all ranks, summoned forth by the fineness of the weather.

Randulph was greatly amused by all he saw, and gazed with much curiosity at all presented to his view. Passing by the Decoy, the party skirted the great canal, and, leaving Rosamond's Pond on the left, proceeded towards Buckingham House.

Just at this juncture, uncle Trussell caught sight of a gay party approaching, and exclaimed, in a joyful tone, to his nephew, "As I live, we are most fortunate. There is the leader of fashion, Beau Villiers, coming towards us. You shall know him, nephew—you shall know him. The ladies he is walking with are Lady Brabazon and the Honourable Clementina Brabazon: a fine girl, Clementina—a remarkably fine girl; perfect in style and manners—quite a toast among the sparks. The old fellow at her side, Sir Singleton Spinke, was a great beau in his time, though never equal to Villiers, who far surpasses even his prototype, Beau Fielding, in style and taste. You shall know them all."

"And nice acquaintances you will make," remarked uncle Abel, sneeringly.

"Never mind him, Randulph," whispered uncle Trussell. "If you know this set, and they like you, you may know whom you please. Beau Villiers commands all society, from the highest down to—to—"

"Mr. Trussell Beechcroft," replied uncle Abel.

"Well, down to me if you please," rejoined uncle Trussell, "and that shews it does not extend too low. But, Randulph, I beg you to look at the beau. Did you ever see a finer man?"

"He is very handsome certainly," replied Randulph, "and remarkably well dressed."

"He is a great coxcomb, a great rake, and a great gamester, Randulph," said uncle Abel; "beware of him."

"Tush, never mind what he says," rejoined uncle Trussell, who really wished to have the eclat of introducing his handsome nephew to the great beau. "Come along!"

So saying, he took his nephew's arm, and hurried him forward. Pushing their way through the throng, when near the sentry box opposite Buckingham House, they encountered the party in question.

Beau Villiers, who was, indeed, a remarkably handsome man, and dressed in the extremity of the mode, wore a light-blue embossed velvet coat, embroidered with silver, with broad cuffs similarly ornamented; a white waistcoat, of the richest silk, likewise laced with silver; tawny velvet breeches, partly covered with pearl-coloured silk hose, drawn above the knee, and secured with silver garters. His dress was completed by shoes of black Spanish leather, fastened by large diamond buckles, and a superb Ramillie perriwig of the lightest flaxen hair, which set off his brilliant complexion, and fine eyes, to admiration. He carried a three-cornered hat, fringed with feathers, and a clouded cane, mounted with a valuable pebble.

Near the beau walked Lady Brabazon, a gorgeous dame of about five-and-forty, and still possessed of great personal attractions, which she omitted no means of displaying. She wore a hoop, and a white and silver satin sack. Struck by Randulph's figure at a distance, she had pointed him out to the beau, who thereupon vouchsafed to look towards him. Behind Lady Brabazon came her daughter Clementina, a very pretty and very affected blonde of two-and-twenty, with an excessively delicate complexion, fair hair, summer blue eyes, and a very mincing gait. She was exquisitely dressed in the last new mode, with a small escaloped lace cap, her hair curled at her sides, a triple row of pearls round her neck, and a diamond cross attached to the chain; and though she pretended to be interested in the discourse of the old knight, it was evident her regards were attracted by the handsome young stranger.

As to the old beau, he was, indeed, supremely ridiculous. He was attired in a richly-embroidered cinnamon-coloured velvet coat, with fur cuffs of a preposterous size, each as large as a modern muff. His pantaloon legs were covered with pink silk hose; his wrinkled features were rouged and bepatched; and his wig was tied with a large bow, and had such an immense cue to it, that it looked as if a great dragon-fly had perched on the back of his neck. Lady Brabazon was attended by a little black page, in a turban and eastern dress, who had charge of her favourite lap-dog.

By this time, the two parties had met. Uncle Abel drew on one side to allow the introduction to take place, and to witness it. Uncle Trussell stepped forward, and bowing obsequiously to Beau Villiers, pointed to Randulph, who stood on his right, saying, "Permit me to introduce my nephew, Mr. Randulph Crew, to you, Mr. Villiers. He is fresh from the country. But even there your reputation has reached him."

"I am happy to make his acquaintance," replied the beau, courteously returning Randulph's bow, and eyeing him curiously at the same time. "On my faith, your ladyship," he added aloud to Lady Brabazon, "the young man is not amiss, but destroyed by his dress and rustic air."

"I really think something may be made of him," returned Lady Brabazon, in the same loud and confidential tone. "Mr. Trussell Beechcroft, make your nephew known to me."

"With the greatest pleasure, your ladyship," replied Trussell, obeying her behest.

"Come with us," said Lady Brabazon, to Randulph, after the ceremony had been gone through, "My daughter, Mr. Crew," she added as they passed along. "By-the-by, who was that strange old man I saw walking with you just now?"

"Who?" rejoined Randulph, evasively, for he felt ashamed, he knew not why, of acknowledging his uncle.

"There he is," said Lady Brabazon, pointing with her fan backwards, "he is staring hard at us, and looks exactly like a bailiff."

"It is my uncle Abel," replied Randulph, in some confusion.

"Your uncle Abel!" cried Lady Brabazon, with a scream of laughter. "Then the sooner you get rid of uncle Abel the better."

Abel could not hear the words, but he heard the laugh, and saw the gesture, as well as his nephew's confusion, and knew that he was the object of it. He turned away in the opposite direction, muttering to himself as he went, "So, he has taken the first step."