Part 26 (1/2)

Around this table let there be seated from fifteen to twenty men, whose ages might vary from nineteen to three- or four-and-twenty; some smoking cigars, some talking vociferously, some laughing, some though they were decidedly the minority, listening: but -164--all showing signs of being more or less elated by the wine they had taken. Let the reader imagine all this, and he will have formed a pretty correct idea of the supper-party in Lawless's rooms, as it appeared about ten o'clock on the evening subsequent to the conversation I have just detailed.

”Didn't I see you riding a black horse with one white stocking yesterday, Oaklands?” inquired a young man with a round jovial countenance, which might have been reckoned handsome but for the extreme redness of the complexion, and the loss of a front tooth, occasioned by a fall received in the hunting field, whose name was Richard, or, as he was more commonly termed, d.i.c.k Curtis.

”Yes,” replied Oaklands, ”I daresay you did; I was trying him.”

”Ah! I fancied he was not one of your own.” ”No; he belongs to Tom Barret, who wants me to buy him; but I don't think he's strong enough to carry my weight; there's not substance enough about him; I ride nearly eleven stone.”

”Oh! he'll never do for you,” exclaimed Lawless. ”I know the horse well; they call him Blacksmith, because the man who bred him was named Smith; he lives down in Lincolns.h.i.+re, and breeds lots of horses; but they are none of them, at least none that I have seen, what I call the right sort; don't you buy him,--he's got too much daylight under him to suit you.”

”Too long in the pasterns to carry weight,” urged Curtis.

”Rather inclined to be cow-hocked,” chimed in Lawless.

”Not ribbed home,” remarked Curtis.

”Too narrow across the loins,” observed Lawless.

”He'll never carry flesh,” continued Curtis.

”It's useless to think of his jumping; he'll never make a hunter,” said Lawless.

”Only hear them,” interrupted a tall, fas.h.i.+onable-looking young man, with a high forehead and a profusion of light, curling hair; ”now those two fellows are once off, it's all up with anything like rational conversation for the rest of the evening.”

”That's right, Archer, put the curb on 'em; we might as well be in Tattersall's yard at once,” observed another of the company, addressing the last speaker.

”I fear it's beyond my power,” replied Archer; ”they've got such an incurable trick of talking equine scandal, and taking away the characters of their -165--neighbours' horses, that n.o.body can stop them unless it is Stephen Wilford.”

The mention of this name seemed to have the effect of rendering every one grave, and a pause ensued, during which Oaklands and I exchanged glances. At length the silence was broken by Curtis, who said:--

”By the way, what's become of Wilford? I expected to meet him here to-night.”

”He was engaged to dine with Wentworth,” said Lawless; ”but he promised to look in upon us in the course of the evening; I thought he would have been here before this.”

As he spoke a tap was heard at the room-door.

”Well, that's odd,” continued Lawless; ”that's Wilford for a ducat; talk of the devil,--eh, don't you know? Come in.”

”You had better not repeat that in his hearing,” observed Archer, ”though I believe he'd take it as a compliment on the whole; it's my opinion he rather affects the satanic.”

”Hush,” said Curtis, pressing his arm, ”here he is.”

As he spoke the door opened, and the subject of their remarks entered.

He was rather above the middle height, of a slight but unusually elegant figure, with remarkably small hands and feet, the former of which were white and smooth as those of a woman. His features were delicately formed and regular, and the shape of his face a perfect oval; strongly marked eyebrows overshadowed a pair of piercing black eyes; his lips were thin and compressed, and his mouth finely cut; his hair, which was unusually glossy and luxuriant, was jet black, as were his whiskers, affording a marked contrast to the death-like pallor of his countenance.

The only fault that could be found in the drawing of his face was that the eyes were placed too near together; but this imparted a character of intensity to his glance which added to, rather than detracted from, the general effect of his appearance. His features, when in repose, were usually marked by an expression of contemptuous indifference; he seldom laughed, but his smile conveyed an indication of such bitter sarcasm that I have seen men, whom he chose to make a b.u.t.t for his ridicule, writhe under it as under the infliction of bodily torture. He was dressed, as was his wont, entirely in black; but his clothes, which were fas.h.i.+onably cut, fitted him without a wrinkle. He bowed slightly to the a.s.sembled company, and then seated himself in a chair which had been reserved for -166--him at the upper end of the table, nearly opposite Oaklands and myself, saying as he did so: ”I'm afraid I'm rather late, Lawless, but Wentworth and I had a little business to transact, and I could not get away sooner”.

”What devil's deed have they been at now, I wonder?” whispered Oaklands to me.

”Manslaughter, most likely,” replied Archer (who was seated next me, and had overheard the remark), ”Wilford appears so thoroughly satisfied with himself; that was just the way in which he looked the morning he winged Sherringham, for I saw him myself.”

”Send me down the claret, will you, Curtis?” asked Wilford. ”Punch is a beverage I don't patronise; it makes a man's hand shaky.”