Part 18 (1/2)
Miss Kicksey, who was in the room (but I didn't mention her, she was less than nothink in our house), went up to Mrs. Deuceace at onst, and held out her arms--she had a heart, that old Kicksey, and I respect her for it. The poor hunchback flung herself into Miss's arms, with a kind of whooping screech, and kep there for some time, sobbing in quite a historical manner. I saw there was going to be a sean, and so, in cors, left the door ajar.
”Welcome to Saint Cloud, Algy my boy!” says my lord, in a loud, hearty voice. ”You thought you would give us the slip, eh, you rogue? But we knew it, my dear fellow: we knew the whole affair--did we not, my soul?--and you see, kept our secret better than you did yours.”
”I must confess, sir,” says Deuceace, bowing, ”that I had no idea of the happiness which awaited me in the shape of a mother-in-law.”
”No, you dog; no, no,” says my lord, giggling: ”old birds, you know, not to be caught with chaff, like young ones. But here we are, all spliced and happy, at last. Sit down, Algernon; let us smoke a segar, and talk over the perils and adventures of the last month. My love,” says my lord, turning to his lady, ”you have no malice against poor Algernon, I trust? Pray shake HIS HAND.” (A grin.)
But my lady rose and said, ”I have told Mr. Deuceace, that I never wished to see him, or speak to him, more. I see no reason, now, to change my opinion.” And herewith she sailed out of the room, by the door through which Kicksey had carried poor Mrs. Deuceace.
”Well, well,” says my lord, as Lady Crabs swept by, ”I was in hopes she had forgiven you; but I know the whole story, and I must confess you used her cruelly ill. Two strings to your bow!--that was your game, was it, you rogue?”
”Do you mean, my lord, that you know all that past between me and Lady Grif--Lady Crabs, before our quarrel?”
”Perfectly--you made love to her, and she was almost in love with you; you jilted her for money, she got a man to shoot your hand off in revenge: no more dice-boxes, now, Deuceace; no more sauter la coupe. I can't think how the deuce you will manage to live without them.”
”Your lords.h.i.+p is very kind; but I have given up play altogether,” says Deuceace, looking mighty black and uneasy.
”Oh, indeed! Bened.i.c.k has turned a moral man, has he? This is better and better. Are you thinking of going into the church, Deuceace?”
”My lord, may I ask you to be a little more serious?”
”Serious! a quoi bon? I am serious--serious in my surprise that, when you might have had either of these women, you should have preferred that hideous wife of yours.”
”May I ask you, in turn, how you came to be so little squeamish about a wife, as to choose a woman who had just been making love to your own son?” says Deuceace, growing fierce.
”How can you ask such a question? I owe forty thousand pounds--there is an execution at Sizes Hall--every acre I have is in the hands of my creditors; and that's why I married her. Do you think there was any love? Lady Crabs is a dev'lish fine woman, but she's not a fool--she married me for my coronet, and I married her for her money.”
”Well, my lord, you need not ask me, I think, why I married the daughter-in-law.”
”Yes, but I DO, my dear boy. How the deuce are you to live? Dawkins's five thousand pounds won't last forever; and afterwards?”
”You don't mean, my lord--you don't--I mean, you can't-- D---!” says he, starting up, and losing all patience, ”you don't dare to say that Miss Griffin had not a fortune of ten thousand a year?”
My lord was rolling up, and wetting betwigst his lips, another segar; he lookt up, after he had lighted it, and said quietly--
”Certainly, Miss Griffin had a fortune of ten thousand a year.”
”Well, sir, and has she not got it now? Has she spent it in a week?”
”SHE HAS NOT GOT A SIX-PENCE NOW: SHE MARRIED WITHOUT HER MOTHER'S CONSENT!”
Deuceace sunk down in a chair; and I never see such a dreadful picture of despair as there was in the face of that retchid man!--he writhed, and nasht his teeth, he tore open his coat, and wriggled madly the stump of his left hand, until, fairly beat, he threw it over his livid pale face, and sinking backwards, fairly wept alowd.
Bah! it's a dreddfle thing to hear a man crying! his pashn torn up from the very roots of his heart, as it must be before it can git such a vent. My lord, meanwhile, rolled his segar, lighted it, and went on.
”My dear boy, the girl has not a s.h.i.+lling. I wished to have left you alone in peace, with your four thousand pounds: you might have lived decently upon it in Germany, where money is at 5 per cent, where your duns would not find you, and a couple of hundred a year would have kept you and your wife in comfort. But, you see, Lady Crabs would not listen to it. You had injured her; and, after she had tried to kill you and failed, she determined to ruin you, and succeeded. I must own to you that I directed the arresting business, and put her up to buying your protested bills: she got them for a trifle, and as you have paid them, has made a good two thousand pounds by her bargain. It was a painful thing to be sure, for a father to get his son arrested; but que voulez-vous! I did not appear in the transaction: she would have you ruined; and it was absolutely necessary that YOU should marry before I could, so I pleaded your cause with Miss Griffin, and made you the happy man you are. You rogue, you rogue! you thought to match your old father, did you? But, never mind; lunch will be ready soon. In the meantime, have a segar, and drink a gla.s.s of Sauterne.”
Deuceace, who had been listening to this speech, sprung up wildly.
”I'll not believe it,” he said: ”it's a lie, an infernal lie! forged by you, you h.o.a.ry villain, and by the murderess and strumpet you have married. I'll not believe it; show me the will. Matilda! Matilda!”