Volume I Part 5 (1/2)

Upon this, I returned to the drawing-room to give a much more cheerful report of the patient's case than I had ventured to antic.i.p.ate. I found our host issuing orders for his comfort and attendance, as though he had quite made up his mind to make him his guest for a lengthened period. A n.o.ble-looking gentleman he was, as like his daughter as an old man can be to a young girl. Harvey Gerard's face was wrinkled neither by years nor care, though marked here and there with those deep lines which indicate the Thinker--one whom the G.o.ds have placed above the drudgery of life, with a disposition to philosophize--a man among men rather than of them, who stands apart from the high-road somewhere half-way up the hill of Fortune, and watches the toilers above and below with a quiet but not cynical smile. ”The news you bring me of our patient, Mr.

Meredith,” said he, ”is most welcome; but I think we should still lose no time in communicating with his friends.”

”That is also the opinion of Dr. Sitwell, sir; he, too, recommends that my poor friend's nearest relative should be sent for; but in circ.u.mstances of this kind, it would be wrong not to say at once that that relative and the invalid here are on the worst of terms, and that his coming would most certainly aggravate any bad symptoms, and r.e.t.a.r.d his cure.”

”I am sorry to hear,” returned Mr. Gerard, gravely, ”that the young gentleman is not on good terms with his own flesh and blood; that is a bad sign.”

”However that maybe, sir, generally,” replied I, with warmth, ”it is not so in this instance. Mr. Long, the rector of Fairburn, and tutor to my friend, will certify to his being a most well-conducted and excellent youth. His uncle, however, Sir Ma.s.singberd Heath--”

”I will not have that person under my roof,” interrupted Mr. Gerard, ”under any circ.u.mstances whatsoever.” This he said without the least trace of irritation, but with a firmness and decision which left me nothing to apprehend upon Marmaduke's account. Then turning to his daughter, as if in explanation, he added, ”The man I speak of, my love, is a wicked ruffian--worse than any poor fellow who has ever dangled yonder outside of Crittenden jail.”

Miss Gerard did not answer except by a look of gentle remonstrance, which seemed to me to murmur, ”But, dear papa, for all we know, this gentleman may be a friend of his.”

I hastened, therefore, to observe with energy, that Mr. Gerard's view of the baronet's character was a perfectly just one, as far as I knew, or, if anything, rather lenient. I recommended that Mr. Long should be apprised of what had happened, and that he should give Sir Ma.s.singberd to understand that while his nephew was receiving every attention at the Dovecot--for so I had learned the house was called--its doors were immutably closed against himself. It was not a pleasant task to impose upon the good rector, but it was a necessary one; for, independently of Mr. Gerard's determination, I felt it was absolutely essential to Marmaduke's life that his uncle should be kept away from his bedside. If in health his presence terrified him, how much worse would it be for him in his prostrate and perilous condition! It was arranged, too, that I should remain to look after my sick friend, and the messenger was instructed to bring back with him all that we required from the Rectory and the Hall. Mr. Long arrived at the Dovecot late that same afternoon, in a state of great anxiety. He had come away almost on the instant after receiving the news of Marmaduke's mis-chance, and without seeing Sir Ma.s.singberd, who had not yet returned from shooting; but he had left a letter for him, explaining the circ.u.mstances as well as he could. ”My only fear,” said he, after visiting his pupil, who still lay in a lethargic slumber, ”is that he will come here immediately, and insist on seeing his nephew--a desire that would appear to be natural enough to persons who are unacquainted with the circ.u.mstances.”

”Nay,” said I; ”but surely he cannot do this in the face of Mr. Gerard's prohibition.”

”Ah, my boy, you do not know Sir Ma.s.singberd yet,” observed my tutor, gravely; ”he will come where and when he will.”

”Nay,” returned I; ”but neither do you know Mr. Harvey Gerard. From what I have seen of that gentleman, he understands how to say 'No,' and to suit to the word the action. When the strong man armed keepeth his house, his goods, including his sick guest, are in peace.”

”But where a stronger than he cometh,” added the rector, shaking his head, ”what then?”

”We shall see,” said I, ”what will happen. It is plain, at all events, that our host is well aware of the sort of man with whom he has to deal.

Mr. Gerard is a most pleasant person, and his daughter is charming beyond measure: they are far the most interesting people I have yet seen about Fairburn. How is it I have never heard any mention of them?”

”The Gerards have always lived a very retired life,” returned my tutor.

”The old gentleman entertains, it is said, some strange opinions. In fact, I have never met them myself but once, and that on some public occasion; so you must introduce me, Peter.”

I had been watching for Mr. Long at the entrance-gate, and taken him straight into Marmaduke's room upon his arrival, so that he had seen neither our host nor hostess; and I thought it strange that my tutor did not speak of them with more enthusiasm, after their great kindness to Marmaduke; something evidently a little chilled his feelings towards them. When he and Mr. Gerard met, I thought there was more cordiality upon the part of the latter than of the former; the expression of Mr.

Long's grat.i.tude was earnest, but not genial. His admiration of Miss Lucy, although not to be concealed, was mitigated, as it seemed, by some sort of compa.s.sion; he regarded her with a shade of sadness. Boy as I was, it was evident to me that some antagonism existed between my host--for whom I naturally entertained most kindly feelings--and my respected tutor; and this troubled me more than I should have liked to say.

Miss Lucy presently left the drawing-room, and then I was continually appealed to by one or the other, on various trifling matters, as though they found a third party a relief to their conversation. At last Mr.

Long requested me to narrate particularly the circ.u.mstances of Marmaduke's accident, and I did so, down to the period when I found him bleeding on the road.

”Well,” observed my tutor, ”I am totally at a loss to account for poor Panther's behaviour. I confess, upon the first day I saw him, I did not like the look of his eye: you remember, Peter, that I made Marmaduke exchange horses with me, and endeavoured, by every means in my power, to find out the peculiarities of the animal. I wish Sir Ma.s.singberd had permitted me to choose a horse for his nephew myself, when I bought your honest brown.”

”Sir Ma.s.singberd selected his nephew's horse himself, did he?” inquired Mr. Gerard, carelessly.

”Yes,” replied my tutor; ”he sent for him from town a few weeks ago. He was a mettlesome frisky creature, it is true; but his curb was a very powerful one, and seemed quite sufficient to subdue him.”

”Does Sir Ma.s.singberd himself ride when he is in the field?” observed our host. ”He must be a great weight for a shooting pony.”

”Well, if you had asked me yesterday, I should have said he almost never rides; but it so happens that he did take the keeper's nag with him this morning. His great stables are all empty now, for, as probably you are aware, things are not kept up as they used to be at the Hall. Old Dobbin is the only representative of the magnificent stud that was once maintained there, now that Panther is dead. By the by, what has been done with him?”

”The carca.s.s has been taken into the town,” said Mr. Gerard. ”He must have been a fine creature.”

”His mouth, however, was of iron,” said I. ”Poor Marmaduke had no control over him whatever, at last; he had almost pulled his arms off.”