Modern Flirtations: A Novel Page 3

  CHAPTER II.

  The two most dashing, bold, and mischievous boys at Eton during theirday, had formerly been Sir Patrick Dunbar and Louis De Crespigny, whoastonished the weak minds of masters and pupils, by the strange andstartling invention displayed in their exploits, as well as by theingenuity with which both got safely out of every threateningpredicament, and the sly humor or cunning with which they frequentlyshifted the disgrace, or even the punishment, of their offences, onothers who deserved it less, or perhaps not at all. Invariably at thehead of every mad exploit, or at the bottom of every secret design,how they could possibly have escaped being expelled was a frequenttopic of subsequent wonder among their contemporaries in the classes;but their delight was to run as near the wind as possible, and stillto display their skilful pilotage by baffling justice, and evading theutmost rigor of the law, while always ready rather to do harm than todo nothing.

  When very young, the two enterprising friends, both since gazettedinto the 15th Light Huzzars, had shown an early predilection formilitary life, by frequently escaping to the neighbouring barracks,assisted by a ladder of rope on which they descended every night fromthe windows. A gay, joyous reception invariably awaited these livelyboys at the mess-table, where they sung many a jovial song, andcracked many a merry jest over their claret, till, after some hoursspent in rapturous festivity, they stole silently back within bounds,and were re-admitted at the window, by their respective fags, who hadreceived orders, under pain of death, to keep awake and answer theirsignals for the ladder by instantly lowering it. The spirits of boththese young companions were more like the effect of intoxication, thanmere sober enjoyment; and, on one occasion, they set the table in aroar, by having a rivalship which would best imitate the gradualprogress of becoming tipsy, though drinking nothing but cold water; inwhich exhibition they showed so much talent for mimicry, taking offthe surrounding officers before their faces, and making so manyhome-thrusts and personal remarks, that the scene was never afterwardsforgotten in the regiment. On another occasion Sir Patrick causedhimself to be placed in a coffin, stolen from the undertakers, and wascarried through the barracks by his companions, who made papertrumpets with which they played the dead march in Saul, while all thesentries saluted as they passed. Such juvenile exploits in the dawn oflife were now the subject of many a laughing reminiscence, and hadbeen followed by others on a more extended scale and of more maturedenterprise, at Mr. Brownlow's, a private tutor, where the two youngmen afterwards distinguished themselves in a way not easily to beforgotten, causing their better disciplined companions to wonder,though in very few instances to admire.

  In the favorite aristocratic achievements of driving stage-coaches,breaking lamps, wringing off knockers, assaulting watchmen, with otherfistic and pugilistic exploits, they were nearly unrivalled; andoccasionally their genius had soared into an extraordinary display ofdexterity, in transposing the signs suspended over shops, and infilching silk handkerchiefs from the pockets of their friends, merelyas amateurs, but still the deed was done, and the laugh raisedliterally at the expense of the sufferer, as the plunder was retainedto be a future trophy of success. Each successive stage of theiryouth, in short, supplied an inexhaustible fund of standing jests andlively anecdotes, the wit of which mainly consisted in their mischief,while they betrayed an utter recklessness about the opinions or thefeelings of others, till at length the patience of their unfortunateprivate tutor was so completely exhausted that he gave them a secrethint to withdraw, which they accordingly lost no time in preparing todo, but not till they had enjoyed a very characteristic revenge. WhenMr. Brownlow had taken a party of friends with him one evening to thetheatre, Sir Patrick suddenly discharged from the gallery the wholecontents of a prodigious bag of flour, which powdered all the heads,faces, and coats, in the pit, perfectly white, and caused an uproar ofanger and of irresistible laughter throughout the house; and the sameevening Louis De Crespigny, as a farewell frolic, abstracted a stuffedbear from the neighbouring hair-dresser's, and having equipped it inthe costume of Mr. Brownlow, hung it from the lamp-post, where apanic-struck crowd was speedily assembled by the alarming report thatthe reverend gentleman had committed suicide. A strict investigationtook place respecting the authors of these unpardonable tricks, but,though suspicion fell at once upon the real culprits, and thecircumstantial evidence against them seemed irresistibly strong, SirPatrick argued his own cause with so much skill and vivacity, while DeCrespigny looked so innocently unconscious of the whole affair, that,with a silent frown from the master, of stern reproof and suspicion,they were, not honorably acquitted, but allowed to return home withoutany public mark of censure or disgrace; and soon after both joinedtheir regiment at Dublin.

  De Crespigny and Sir Patrick had but one companion whom theyacknowledged as their equal at Eton, in all the spirit, enterprise,and vivacity of their characters, but who was, in a thousand otherrespects their superior, for seldom, indeed, has there been known, inone so young, a character of as much intensity, or which displayed acombination so singular, of superb talents, rare judgment, soundprinciple, deep piety, and energetic feeling, as in Richard Granville,an object of admiration to all, and of envy to many; though jealouslylost half of its bitterness in association with one so eloquent andsingle-hearted in conversation, so courteously amiable andconciliatory in manner, and with so fine a principle of tact, ready asfar as possible to enhance the pleasures, to palliate the faults, andto share the sorrows of all his companions. Cultivated in all thatcould adorn the heart as well as the head, in whatever was amiable,high-spirited and generous, Richard Granville had but to follow theimpulse of natural feeling as well as of principle, and he out-did thevery wishes of his friends, while no one excelled him in all the manlyexercises suited to his early years. His countenance was illuminatedwith an expression of intellectual energy, at times almost sublime,while there was a living grace and amiability in his mannerirresistibly attractive. Brave, liberal, and resolute, he entered witheagerness into all the offensive recreations of his companions, and noone excelled him in riding, fencing, and cricket, while he was thebest shot in his own country; but he firmly declined ever to squanderhis time or money on any game of chance, cards, billiards, or gamblingin any form. While Sir Patrick's betting-book was from the first amodel of skill, in hedging bets, and all the manoeuvres ofjockey-ology, young Granville said all that eloquence and affectioncould dictate, to point out how dangerous and dishonorable was thecourse on which he seemed about to enter, but in vain, for Sir Patrickfinished the discussion by offering to bet him L5 he would not beruined in less than ten years. "I have a fortune and constitutionwhich will last me till thirty," said the young baronet; "and I do notwish to live a day longer."

  "It is easy," said Prince Eugene, "to be modest when one issuccessful; but it is difficult not to be envied." While the verypresence of young Granville in the room, with his riotous youngassociates, seemed as if it held up a glass to their mind's eye,testifying the folly and evil of their course, yet Richard Granvilleabhorred display, while Sir Patrick and De Crespigny frequentlydeclared he was "too clever and too good for them;" and unavoidablecircumstances afterwards combined to estrange the young men stillmore. A law-suit had been going on almost since the period of theirbirth, conducted in an amicable way by their guardians, in which theinterests of all three were so deeply concerned, and the case soexceedingly complicated, that years passed on, during which the youthshad all grown to manhood, and the case remained still undecided; whilethe one-sided view which was given to Dunbar and De Crespigny on thesubject caused in them an angry feeling of hostility and rancouragainst their amiable and high-minded young relative, who was soenthusiastically desirous to enter the English church, and devotehimself to those sacred duties, that he scarcely wished a favorabledecree, which would prevent the necessity for his pursuing aprofession at all.

  A Scotch law-suit may be compared to a game at battle-dore between thetribunals of England and Scotland, while the gaping client sees theshuttle-cock for ever flyin
g over his head, higher and higher out ofreach, and sent backwards and forwards with ceaseless diligence, butno apparent progress; or it is like a kitten playing with a ball ofworsted, which is allowed to come often apparently within her grasp,and is then, when she least expects, twitched away farther thanbefore. The Granville case had been decided by the Court of Session,against the two cousins, Dunbar and Crespigny, but being appealed tothe House of Lords, was recommended for consideration, re-argued,re-considered, and nearly reversed, while replies and duplies, remitsand re-revisals, commissions of inquiry, and new cases, followed eachother in ceaseless succession, and many of the lawyers who were youngmen when the case began, grew grey in the service, while it yetremained in suspense. A grand-uncle of Sir Patrick's had fifty yearsbefore, bought an estate of L12,000 a-year from the Marquis ofDoncaster, to whom young De Crespigny was now heir presumptive; butMr. Dunbar having, it was conjectured, entertained some suspicion thatthe title deeds were not perfectly valid, as an entail had beendiscovered afterwards, by which it was generally thought that the landmust be restored to the original owner, he hastily and most unfairlysold the property to the late Mr. Granville for L350,000, and dyingintestate, after having lost nearly the whole sum in a miningspeculation, it could not be proved whether Sir Patrick's father hadacted as an executor for the deceased or not, so as to render himselfresponsible for his debts, and liable to refund the sum paid by Mr.Granville. Thus, whether the entail held good, and carried the estateback to Lord Doncaster, or whether it had been legally broken, so asto entitle the Granville family to keep it, or whether, if it wererefunded, the price could be claimed from the heirs of Mr. Dunbar,still continued a mystery never apparently to be solved.

  For many generations past, the ancient Marquisate of Doncaster hadbeen inherited by a succession of only sons, all strict Papists, whohad each in his turn been reckoned by the next heirs exceedinglysickly and unpromising, but still the wonder grew, for not one hadever died, till he left a substitute in regular rotation, to supplythe vacancy which he created himself; and a long train of minoritiesin the family had caused the accumulation of wealth and property to beenormous, when the present proprietor succeeded fifty years before ourstory commences. Nothing could exceed his own astonishment at theunembarrassed magnificence of the fortune, of which he mostunexpectedly found himself in possession, as his father had been inthe habit of concealing the amount of his own income, and allowing hisheir rather less than nothing, saying, that as he himself had neverhad anything to eat till he had no teeth to eat with, he was resolvedthat his successor should be similarly treated. In pursuance of thisplan, the old nobleman even on his death-bed, had actually expiredwith a practical joke on his lips. He sent for his son, gravely toldhim that with debts, mortgages, and settlements, the very encumberedestate he was about to inherit would scarcely pay its own expenses,and recommended him to live in future with the most penurious economy.When the will was opened, finding to his unutterable joy, that he hadmerely been played upon by the old humorist, who, in reality left himL40,000 per annum clear, so great was Lord Doncaster's surprise, thathe declared his good fortune at the time to be "almost incredible;"and it might have been supposed, that he never afterwards completelybelieved it, as his personal expenses were always in a style moresuited to the old Lord's threat than his performance, and he became afresh instance of what may be so often remarked, that the mostextravagant heirs in expectancy become the most avaricious inpossession.

  There was one singular peculiarity in the settlements of LordDoncaster's family, that so long as he had no son, or if his son attwenty-one declared himself a Protestant, he had the power of sellingor bequeathing the estates according to his own pleasure or caprice;and the ancestor who had inserted this clause in his deed of entail,made his intention evident, that the succession should go to the RomanCatholic Church, rather than to a Protestant heir; but the presentpeer had taken advantage, on so large a scale, of his own childlessprivilege, to sell the family estates, that his two deceased sisters,Lady Charlotte De Crespigny, and Lady Caroline Smytheson, usedsecretly to complain, that little would be left for their children, ifhe persevered in turning every acre into gold; yet no one ever couldguess how the large sums were squandered or melted away, which the oldMarquis was continually raising, unless they went, as was stronglysuspected, in the form of "secret service money," among the priests bywhom he was surrounded.

  Nobody had a better right to be eccentric than Lord Doncaster!--old,rich, unmarried, and originally educated at home,--a misfortunesufficient in itself to engender so many peculiarities, as to render aman unfit for society ever afterwards. The aged peer was shy, proud,and arbitrary beyond all conception, avaricious about trifles, yetlavish to excess on great occasions, suspicious of all men's motivesand intentions, and yet confiding to the last extreme of weakness, inthe Abbe Mordaunt, his confessor, despising all men, and yet anxiousbeyond measure for the world's good opinion, addicted to the veryworst female society, when he might have enjoyed the best, hatingcompany, and yet sometimes plunging into it, when and where he wasleast expected, jealous to excess of his next heir, Louis DeCrespigny, whom he enslaved to his caprices, as if even his existencewere to be given or withheld at his option, yet sometimes whimsicallycordial in his manner to him, though ready to take fire in an instantif his condescension led the lively youth into the slightest approachtowards confidence or familiarity.

  Mr. Howard Smytheson, the wealthy brother-in-law of Lord Doncaster,having purchased most of the De Crespigny estates, as acre after acre,farm after farm, and house after house, came successively into themarket, bequeathed them on his decease to an only daughter then aninfant, and it became a favorite day-dream with the old peer, that hisnephew and niece should be educated for each other, while to this endhe tried his utmost power of conciliation with the maiden sister ofMr. Howard Smytheson, to whose care the young heiress had beenconsigned, hoping that thus all the amputated limbs of his vastproperty might yet be reunited in their pristine magnitude, to whichvery desirable end he thenceforth directed his whole conversationswith young De Crespigny, to whom he more than hinted that, unlesstheir will were the same about this marriage, his own will after deathwould be found very different from what his nephew probablyanticipated and wished.

  The private vices of Lord Doncaster had been so very private, thatthough much was suspected, little could be known; yet, while he hadfew visible or personal expenses, and no imaginable outlet for hisfortune, he invariably spent all his income, and considerably more,being one of those personages occasionally seen who excite the wonderand speculation of relations and neighbours, by unaccountablyfrittering away fortunes of almost royal splendor, without anyappearance of royal luxury or royal liberality. Wearied of the world,in which he had nothing more to desire, and of himself, as he hadnothing to think of or to do,--bored in short with the want of a want,Lord Doncaster's life was indeed a mere heartless pageant of meanostentation and fretful pride, sternly insulated in a state ofsolitary old-bachelor despotism, and absorbed in himself to a degreewhich no ordinary mind could conceive or comprehend. Encumbered withso many unoccupied hours, it was a subject of as much wonder how hedisposed of his superfluous time, as of his superfluous fortune; buthe settled that question, by remarking one day to his nephew, that"the great business of life is, to shuffle through the day anyhow tilldinner time." Like all parsimonious men, Lord Doncaster could notendure to hear any one else reckoned affluent, and Louis De Crespignyknew that a certain receipt for irritating him was, to over-estimateeverybody's income, consequently he amused himself occasionally byaudibly giving out Lord Towercliffe's fortune to be L15,000 a-year,and estimating his friend Sir Patrick Dunbar's rent-roll at a clearsum of L20,000 per annum, while he slyly watched his uncle's risingcholer, and patiently heard, for the fiftieth time, an elaborateexplanation, that it was impossible, and a sober calculation whichreduced both the offending parties almost to beggary.

  In the month of August, as regularly as time revolved, Lord Doncasterdelighted to rea
d in the newspapers, his own pompous advertisement,the only original composition he was ever known to attempt, in whichhe prohibited poachers and strangers from shooting on his moors inArgyleshire, Mid-Lothian, Yorkshire, Galloway, Cromarty, andCaithness, but except the annual appearance of this spiritedmanifesto, no public evidence ever came forth of that extraordinarywealth which property so extensive must be supposed to produce. Nocharitable donations bore witness to Lord Doncaster's liberality--nocountry objects were encouraged by his public spirit--and themonuments daily arising in memory of departed merit, made a vainappeal for his pecuniary tribute of respect and regret, for LordDoncaster neither respected nor regretted any man.

  It was an often-repeated axiom of Lord Doncaster's, that every mancheats or is cheated; but in one instance, and one only, his Lordshiphad shown apparently some kind feeling, or rather perhaps he might besaid to have exhibited a capricious freak of benevolence, though theresult had been such as to afford him an excuse ever afterwards fornot again attempting a single act of gratuitous liberality.

  The nearest relative to his ancient family, after Louis De Crespignyand Miss Howard, was Mrs. Anstruther, a distant cousin, who, aftermaking a low and almost disgraceful marriage, had suddenly died, itwas believed by her own hands, thus consigning her two young childrento helpless, and apparently hopeless poverty, till at length they werevery unwillingly invited, or rather permitted to become residents inan almost menial capacity at Beaujolie Castle, in Yorkshire, where, asthey could neither be drowned like kittens, nor shot like puppy-dogs,the Marquis caused them to be treated like the "whipping boys" inCharles the First's time--sometimes employed as playmates to amuse hisnephew and niece during their holiday visits to his residence, butmore frequently treated in a sort of mongrel way between dependentsand slaves by the heartless and tyrannical old peer, who consideredthem as mere poachers on the preserve of his family honors, havingforced their way into existence by some untoward accident, and becomeabsolute blots in the creation, liable to be suspected, and evenaccused to their faces of every low and vicious propensity, inconsequence of which, from an early age, he destroyed theirself-respect, and irritated their evil passions by the most rash andunfounded aspersions--theft, swindling, lying, and gluttony, wereamong the principal counts in his Lordship's indictment, when hesometimes vented a paroxysm of ill-humor on these his unhappydependents; and many a time the tears of Mary Anstruther, and theflashing eye of her brother Ernest, bore witness to the anger andgrief with which they listened to his bitter and often unmeritedupbraidings.

  At times, however, Lord Doncaster found it convenient for his ownprivate purposes to patronize the Anstruthers, and threatened, in thehearing of all his young relatives, that if Louis De Crespigny'sconduct did not in all respects satisfy him, an heir more subservientto his wishes might be found, and though the culprit must be hisnephew, he need not be his successor, while the glance of his eyetowards Ernest aroused hopes, wishes, and even expectations of thewildest extravagance, which were then confirmed for a time by hisbeing promoted to temporary attention and consideration, not onlydisplayed ostentatiously by their capricious patron, but extending tothe increased respect and observance of the servants, the thermometerof whose obedience rose and fell according as the sunshine of LordDoncaster's favor shone upon his young relative or not; yet brief asthese periods of increased importance had always been, they made anindelible impression on the young and ambitious minds of those usuallyneglected children. "The child becomes a boy, the boy a youth, andthen the game of life begins in earnest."

  Without education or principle, and with no friend on the wide earthto confide in or to consult, the two young Anstruthers, like weedsthat will yet flourish though trampled upon, grew up vigorous in body,and enthusiastically as well as devotedly attached to each other, witha depth and power of affection which appeared, before long, the onlyredeeming quality in characters wherein strong passions and weakprinciples promised little, and threatened much, to all with whom theymight hereafter become associated.

  The resemblance between them was as remarkable as their attachment,both having dark Italian-looking countenances, of remarkable symmetry,with a singularly excitable and determined expression in their largelustrous eyes, while it was remarkable that neither could bypossibility look any one steadily in the face. There was a wild,almost feverish brilliancy in the eye of Ernest, expressive of a fieryimpetuosity, amounting at times almost to an appearance of insanity,when, after being obliged to crouch and flatter for his bread beforeLord Doncaster, he would retire with Mary, and give loose to all theangry torrent of his long-suppressed emotions. The sister's heartcowered sometimes before the flood of invectives and imprecations withwhich he relieved his heart by speaking of his wrongs, while he seemedto cherish a gnawing belief that fortune herself had shown him a mostunaccountable and undeserved enmity, which he was resolved, by fair orby foul means, to subvert. "I shall yet rise above all the accidentsof fortune! It shall be done, I care not how, Mary," said he sternly."We must not be over-particular on that score, for, as the proverbsays, 'a cat in mittens will never catch mice!'"

  Bold, fearless, and ready, with a keen appetite for danger, a fearlessambition, consummate cunning, and an insatiable thirst for adventure,it seemed sometimes as if he would put his mind into a pugilisticattitude, and buffet his way forward to pre-eminence in spite of allthe malice of fortune and of mankind. With a temper vindictive, harsh,and deadly, his blood mounted like mercury in a thermometer at thevery thought of success, and often when he spoke to his sister in thelowest whisper of their future prospects, she would start and lookhastily round as if in terror, lest the wild dreams of hisundisciplined mind might be overheard and resented, for he nourished afeverish hope, which he called a presentiment, but which amountedalmost to a monomania, that the splendid residence in which they werenow only tolerated on sufferance, "as reptile dependents," would oneday become his own.

  If every man living might remove at pleasure all those who standinconveniently in his way, political economists would have nothing tofear from a too rapidly increasing population, and the day-dreams ofErnest, which gained strength and consistency every hour, wereprolific in both deaths and marriages. He carefully collected in thePeerage all the instances there recorded, in which distant relationshad succeeded through a long mortality of twenty or five-and-twentyintermediate heirs,--he remembered that neither Louis nor Caroline hadyet endured the measles,--he thought their Shetland ponies verydangerous, and, in short, if their days had been measured by him, themeasure would have been short indeed. His personal vanity wasexcessive, and amidst his wild schemes of aggrandisement, the firstand foremost had lately been to marry his lively, frolicsome, littlecousin, and occasional playmate, Caroline Howard Smytheson, in whoseinfant manner, heedless and good-humored as she was, he flatteredhimself there might be traced an evident appearance of preference,while he could not but also remark, that before any of the young partyhad attained the age of maturity, and Caroline was yet a mere infant.Louis De Crespigny had already begun to exercise his genius forflirtation in the society of his humble cousin Mary Anstruther,--humbleonly in circumstances, but possessing that pride without principle,which goes before a fall.

  Time had ripened the faults of the two young Anstruthers, andperfected also their extraordinary beauty of person, when, afterErnest had attained the age of nineteen, a whim as sudden, andapparently as unaccountable as their adoption, caused Lord Doncaster,or rather the Abbe Mordaunt, unexpectedly to announce that they weredismissed from the house. Various rumours were circulated among theservants to account for this harsh and hasty decision, but nothingcould be discovered for certain. Ernest was reported to have expressedhimself with the greatest rancour and contempt respecting a report incirculation, that Lord Doncaster intended to marry the Abbe Mordaunt'sbeautiful niece, then on a visit at Kilmarnock Abbey, near Edinburgh.The Abbe was said to have missed some valuable jewels belonging to hisniece Laura, who accused both the Anstruthers of having been seen inher room,--a large sum
of money, it was hinted, had mysteriouslydisappeared--some people said that Ernest had been discovered at alate hour of the night attempting to enter the sleeping apartment ofLord Doncaster, without being able to give any satisfactory account ofhis intentions, and others declared that Louis De Crespigny'sassiduities to Mary Anstruther had recently become rather too obvious,while surmises arose against her character; but whatever might be thecause, they were both hastily transferred on a few hours' notice fromthe splendors of Kilmarnock Abbey, to a small obscure lodging atPortobello. As Ernest was about to leave that house which had so longbeen his home, with Mary sobbing in uncontrollable grief on his arm,anger and despair were fearfully stamped on their young faces, whenthe Abbe Mordaunt advancing silently, placed a small sum of money intheir hands, which the young man furiously dashed upon the ground, andtrampled upon, saying in accents of strong and almost terrifyingvehemence, while his countenance exhibited a dark insidious expressionof almost maniacal fury, "I would not be human if I did not hate yourniece and you!--my curse shall rest on both till I am revenged! Takeback your paltry gold, I shall build up my own fortune, or perish inthe ruins! I shall live by my own hands, or--by own hands I shalldie!"

  From that day forward the names of Mary and Ernest Anstruther neverpassed the lips of Lord Doncaster or the Abbe, who ordered theservants also to abstain from ever mentioning them, which only piquedthe curiosity of the second table into greater activity than ever; butthough many vague conjectures, dark suspicions, and absurd rumours,were promulgated throughout the establishment, nothing certain couldbe ascertained, except that they returned no more to Kilmarnock Abbey,and that a final extinguisher had been placed on all their prospectsand hopes from Lord Doncaster.

  About this time Mrs. Bridget Smytheson sent Miss Howard, then only sixyears old, to school, and seemed so little anxious to encourage anintimacy between the young heiress and Louis De Crespigny, whom shehad long disliked, that Lord Doncaster, piqued and indignant, angrilyreminded her of his sister Lady Caroline's dying injunction, to whichshe had promised implicit attention, that if the cousins, after theywere grown up, could be ascertained to have to have a disinterestedpreference for each other, every opportunity should be given them tobecome attached and engaged.

  "Certainly, Lord Doncaster; and I shall fulfil my pledge," replied theover-dressed, and rather under-bred aunt, in her usual tone offantastic affectation; "but these boy-and-girl intimacies are not themost likely to produce that romantic love with which young peopleought to begin their married lives; and besides, how could theirpreference be disinterested, where the brilliant prospects of both arecontinually descanted on as motives to their union. No! I have aconsiderable spice of romance in my composition; and when they do meetagain, it shall be under very different circumstances."

  "What a creature to have the charge of any girl!" thought LordDoncaster, as he returned from handing her, with every appearance ofprofound respect, into her pony-carriage. "There is another womanhalf so insane out of bedlam; and that mad-cap child herself is aswild as a horse with the reins broke. The greatest annoyance on earthis, to have a rich and vulgar upstart among on's near connections."