Part 45 (2/2)

”Exguse me, your honour,” said the person, ”but haf you seen Mister Fox?”

I said that I, too, was waiting for him, whereat he cast at me a cunning look beyond my comprehension. Surely, I thought, a man of Fox's inherited wealth and position could not be living in such a place!

Before the truth and humour of the situation had dawned upon me, I heard a ringing voice without, swearing in most forcible English, and the door was thrown open, admitting a tall young gentleman, as striking as I have ever seen. He paid not the smallest attention to the Jew, who was bowing and muttering behind me.

”Mr. Richard Carvel?” said he, with a merry twinkle in his eye.

I bowed.

”Gad's life, Mr. Carvel, I'm deuced sorry this should have happened.

Will you come with me?”

”Exguse me, your honour!” cried the other visitor.

”Now, what the plague, Aaron!” says he; ”you wear out the stairs. Come to-morrow, or the day after.”

”Ay, 'tis always 'to-morrow' with you fine gentlemen. But I vill bring the bailiffs, so help me--”

”d.a.m.n 'em!” says the tall young gentleman, as he slammed the door and so shut off the wail. ”d.a.m.n 'em, they worry Charles to death. If he would only stick to quinze and picquet, and keep clear of the hounds*, he need never go near a broker.”

[*”The ”hounds,” it appears, were the gentlemen of sharp practices at White's and Almack's.--D. C. C.]

”Do you have Jews in America, Mr. Carvel?” Without waiting for an answer, he led me through a parlour, hung with pictures, and bewilderingly furnished with French and Italian things, and j.a.pan and China ware and bronzes, and cups and trophies. ”My name is Fitzpatrick, Mr. Carvel,--yours to command, and Charles's. I am his ally for offence and defence. We went to school together,” he explained simply.

His manner was so free, and yet so dignified, as to charm me completely.

For I heartily despised all that fustian trumpery of the age. Then came a voice from beyond, calling:--

”That you, Carvel? d.a.m.n that fellow Eiffel, and did he thrust you into the Jerusalem Chamber?”

”The Jerusalem Chamber!” I exclaimed.

”Where I keep my Israelites,” said he; ”but, by Gad's life! I think they are one and all descended from Job, and not father Abraham at all. He must have thought me cursed ascetic, eh, Fitz? Did you find the benches hard? I had 'em made hard as the devil. But if they were of stone, I vow the flock could find their own straw to sit on.”

”Curse it, Charles,” cut in Mr. Fitzpatrick, in some temper, ”can't you be serious for once! He would behave this way, Mr. Carvel, if he were being shriven by the Newgate ordinary before a last carting to Tyburn.

Charles, Charles, it was Aaron again, and the dog is like to snap at last. He is talking of bailiffs. Take my advice and settle with him.

Hold Cavendish off another fortnight and settle with him.”

Mr. Fox's reply was partly a laugh, and the rest of it is not to be printed. He did not seem in the least to mind this wholesale disclosure of his somewhat awkward affairs. And he continued to dress, or to be dressed, alternately swearing at his valet and talking to Fitzpatrick and to me.

”You are both of a name,” said he. ”Let a man but be called Richard, and I seem to take to him. I' faith, I like the hunchback king, and believe our friend Horry Walpole is right in defending him, despite Davie Hume.

I vow I shall like you, Mr. Carvel.”

I replied that I certainly hoped so.

”Egad, you come well enough recommended,” he said, pulling on his breeches. ”No, Eiffel, cursed if I go en pet.i.t maitre to-day. How does that strike you for a demi saison, Mr. Buckskin? I wore three of 'em through the customs last year, and March's worked olive nightgown tucked under my greatcoat, and near a dozen pairs of s.h.i.+rts and stockings. And each of my servants had on near as much. O Lud, we were amazing-like beef-eaters or blower pigeons. Sorry you won't meet my brother,--he that will have the t.i.tle. He's out of town.”

Going on in this discursory haphazard way while he dressed, he made me feel much at home. For the young dictator--so Mr. Fitzpatrick informed me afterward--either took to you or else he did not, and stood upon no ceremony. After he had chosen a coat with a small pattern and his feet had been thrust into the little red shoes with the high heels, imported by him from France, he sent for a hackney-chaise. And the three of us drove together to Pall Mall. Mr. Brooks was at the door, and bowed from his hips as we entered.

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