University of Virginia Library

9. CHAPTER IX.,
Which describes a bold Stroke of the Peer
and his Steward.

When Mr. Guttenberg learned of the
occurrences at the castle he was
alarmed lest the Earl might be vexed,
and withdraw his favors and patronage
from our circulating library and
printing-rooms. This would have been
a serious blow, for although directly
these were not much, yet as his lordship,
by virtue of his title and property
set the fashion in those parts, indirectly
they were a great deal.

“It's a very sad affair, Ambrose,”

said he, “very stupid on your part to
get yourself up in that way. I am
astonished at you.”

“But it was not my fault, sir. How
could I help it? The dress was prescribed
for me, and I took it. It is no
great matter for complaint that an
old lady should take a whim into her
head and go off in hysterics. And it's
no great matter, sir, I should think, to
the Earl, who must be used to her eccentricities.”

“Yes, it is. His lordship don't like
to have an occurrence which will set
every one to talking. And then you
mustn't call her an `old lady.' It isn't
proper.”

“Isn't she an old lady, sir?”

“An old lady! Good gracious!
Why her husband was a peer of the
realm!”

“It was not my fault, I am sure,
sir. I did not invite myself to the
castle.”

“Now, hush! I am ashamed of
you. It was an act of condescension
to ask you. You ought to feel it deeply,
and your remark sounds like ingratitude.”

And very ungrateful the bookseller
thought me. However all my adopted
father's fears were dissipated on the
following day by a visit from Mr. Osborne,
who came to thank me for having
assisted at the play, and to say
that I was expected to visit the library
while the guests were in the house,
as usual. He said the dowager had
recovered from the events of the night
before; her momentary insane fit had
passed apparently away; and added
that the ladies thought me a very interesting
young man, with manners
above my station.”

I chafed under this. This man who
talked about “my station,” was only one
remove above a lackey, and I felt convinced
that his language was his own.
I preserved a contemptuous silence
until he had gone, and then I broke
into a torrent of wrath, innocent of effect,
as there was no one to listen but
Mr. Guttenberg, and he thought me
mad. It had one good effect, however,
it relieved me of my suppressed
vexation, and next moment I smiled at
the consternation of the printer and
my own folly.

Berkeley came into the printing-room
during the afternoon.

“Ambrose,” said he, “your'e a doosid
lucky fellah! you've made a sensation.
The whole town is talking about
you. You're the observed of all observers.
The ladies declare there never
was such a printer since types were
invented. The Honorable Mrs. Leigh
raves about you and declares you are
a young eastern rajah in disguise.”

“It's all very annoying,” I said,
picking away at the letter, for I was
at work at the case.

Tom Brown and the two apprentices
(for we had two new ones) laughed.

“I'd like to have been in his place,”
said Tom.

“Would you?”

“Wouldn't I?”

“Sensible fellah, Thomas, you!” answered
the Captain. “Annoyed, eh!
If I could have made half the impression
I'd have been content to have put
types in that what-d'ye-call-it-there for
the remainder of my existence. You're
famous, I tell you. Your friend Sharp
would do a good business to exhibit
you at the Museum along with the nick-nackeries.
By the by, where did you
get that magnificent sabre you wore
in the tableau?”

“Mr. Sharp was kind enough to send
the arms for me,” I replied, “when he
found I was to stand in the tableau.”

Berkeley whistled.

“And that magnificent fur on your
surtout—was that from Sharp too?”

“It was.”

“Worse and worse; or, rather, better
and better. Stranger than the
Sphynx, by Jove! Old Sharp was never
known to do a kind thing to any one
before. I am quite sure he would
never have loaned that sword to me
without twice its value left as collateral
security. Your power over him
is very odd. Do you know they say
when he gets in company with you, he
is absolutely genial! What is your
secret? Are you Dr. Faustus come
back, and in league with the old gentleman
below?”

The Captain ran on for some time in
that way until he remembered an engagement
to dine, and left with the
quizzical caution not to run off with
the Honorable Mrs. Leigh, as he had
designs matrimonially on that lady
himself, and should certainly kill and
eat his successful rival.

To satisfy Mr. Guttenberg, I resumed
my visits to the library. The visitors
to my Lord Landys were not of studious
habits, and I seldom met any of
them amid the books. When I did it
was because they dawdled in there for
a partial refuge from ennui; and then
in a little while dawdled out.

On Monday after the performance I
was at the castle. I had not been
seated a minute after hanging up my
overcoat, before Gifford came in.

“I have been watching for you,”
said she. “Pray come to my lady.”

I followed her, and she ushered me
into the presence of the Countess dowager.

The old lady half rose as I entered,
and pointed to a chair. I seated myself.

“Gifford,” she said, “see that no
one disturbs us.”

The waiting-woman retired.

“Now, young gentleman,” said the
Countess, “I have heard something of
your history, but not fully. Will you
do me the favor to recite it so far as
you can.”

I told her all I knew or had heard—
at least the essential parts of it. She
listened attentively, and when I had
concluded, came towards me, scanned
my features carefully, laid her hand on
my ear, and then resumed her seat,
much agitated.

“It is very singular,” she muttered,
“and it cannot be. Yet that peculiar
mark. Does Mr. Marston know your
history?”

“Mr. Marston?”

“Oh, I see. You call him the Earl
of Landys. I had forgotten. But the
true earl will return—yes, he will return.
He is not dead or his spirit
would have come to tell me. But
what did I ask you? I forget; for my
brain wanders sadly of late.”

“If the present Earl knew my history.
He knows as much as I have
told you,” I replied.

Have a care then. He suspects you,
and will do you a mischief. And beware
of Osborne. I may send for you
again. Will you come?”

“Should I receive your ladyship's
message, I will strive to obey it,” I
answered, as I bowed myself out.

I returned to the library and had
not been there long before the Earl

came in. He smiled as he returned my
bow.

“We had quite a scene the other
night, Mr. Fecit.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“The Dowager Countess's infirmity
gives her strange fancies. Your performance
of Frederick was very
spirited.”

I bowed my acknowledgments.

“Be seated. Have you thought on
what I suggested once concerning India?”

This was the third time during the
year that he had asked me a similar
question, and it was to be the third time
I was to make him a similar answer.

“I am sincerely obliged to your
lordship for the kind offer, but for the
present I have determined to remain
here, and find employment at the business
which I have been taught.”

How we sin through courtesy and
the rule of the world! I was by habit
and principle opposed to falsehood;
and yet I here caught myself lying
outrageously. I was not sincerely
obliged to his lordship at all; on the
contrary I was angry at the persistent
offer. Nor did I think it kind, for I
believed it to be prompted by some
sinister motive, the nature of which
I could scarcely conjecture.

His lordship took snuff and laid the
box on the table.

“Don't let me interrupt your
studies,” said he, and took up a book.
I resumed mine, not to study but to
think. On looking up a few minutes
after I found the Earl had gone. His
gold snuff-box lay on the table. I
thought it a piece of forgetfulness, but
went on with my reading, and just then
seeing a passage which I wished to
note, opened a box lying near me to
get a sheet of paper. The lid of the
box was lined with looking-glass, and
it remained up and slightly back from
the perpendicular. While I was writing
before it Mr. Osborne came in.
He bade me a good day, and went to
the book-case, selecting and rejecting
books.

I read on, and on turning a page my
eye rose from the top of the book, and
fell on the looking-glass in the lid
of the paper box. It chanced to be that
angle which brought the right side of
the room before me. My very flesh
crawled. What infamous work was
this!

I distinctly saw Mr. Osborne with
the gold snuff-box in his hand, with
his eye fixed upon me, advance to
where my great-coat hung, and, after
slipping the snuff-box in the breast-pocket,
gather up a couple of books
from the table and make a noiseless departure.

I arose in alarm and excitement, but
my course of action was decided on at
once. I removed the box, and placing
it on a small table in the farthest corner
of the room, threw a newspaper
carelessly over it.

I sat there for a little while, but no
one came. The warning of the old
Countess recurred to me. What
could it all mean? At length the
anxiety became insupportable. I rose
and put on my great coat in order to go
out. I trembled with excitement, and
was steadying myself for a moment
against the chair, when the Earl accompanied
by Brewis, his butler, entered.

“And so, Mr. Fecit,” said the peer,
“you won't go to India? Why, where
is my snuff-box? I left it on the table.
Didn't you see it here, Mr. Fecit.”

“I did, my lord; but it has not been
here since Mr. Osborne left. Perhaps
he took it to hand it to your lordship.”

I said this in order to see if his lordship
were a party to the affair.

“No, I met him this moment. He
would have told me, you know It is
very singular.”

“Very,” I said, playing with him.

“I am quite sure I left it on the table.
Has any one else been here?”

“No one but Mr. Osborne.”

“It's very odd; and I don't know,
but—”

It's coming now, I thought.

“I am quite sure you couldn't have
taken it, of course, but, as a matter of
form, you had better allow Brewis
here to examine your pockets. It will
prevent false reports, you know.”

He felt his degradation, I was sure.
He looked meanly. I put my hand to
my breast pocket for the express purpose
of leading him on as I said:

“No, my lord. I allow no man, under
any pretext, to thus degrade me.”

“Brewis, do you hear?” asked the
peer. “This is extraordinary. If you
know nothing of the box, why do you
object to being, searched? Under such
circumstances I shall insist on it.”

“Pray,” said I, “did it never occur
to your lordship that you might have
left your box elsewhere in the room?”

“No! for I am positive that I left
it here.”

“Brewis,” said I to the butler, “do
me the favor to lift the paper on yonder
table.”

Brewis obeyed me, and revealed the
box.

“Is that what you seek, my lord?”

His lordship reddened, but took the
box without a word.

“I ask your lordship if that be the
box?”

The Earl muttered “Yes!”

“I owe you a thousand apologies,
Mr. Fecit,” he said after a pause.
“The mistake was mine, but your
manner—”

I might have affected to believe him,
though I knew it to be a lie. But I
was young and hot-headed, so I interrupted
him at once.

“I would like to believe that your
lordship was not engaged in a plot
that would disgrace the lowest minded
man in the world. But you were.
What your motives may have been I
can't tell; but you have the comforting
reflection of knowing that you have
failed.”

“Do you dare to accuse me, you
beggarly brat?” he demanded angrily.

“Fine language for a peer,” I replied.
“Do you see that mirror, my
lord? Seated before that, I saw your
tool at his dirty work, and I have
baffled him. I see through you and
despise you.”

The stupid surprise on the butler's
features satisfied me that he, at least,
was not in the conspiracy. The contents
of Paul Bagby's letter came to
my mind and I could not refrain from
a parting shot at random.

“Let me tell your lordship one
thing. I am more prudent than Don
Jose Espinel.”

The shot told. The Earl's features
grew livid with rage and apprehension,
and with a laugh I turned on my
heel and left him.