Part 46 (1/2)
”The tyrant will agree to that more willingly than to your first request. What do you think, Fairlegh,” continued Ellis, appealing to me, ”of his positively wanting to go out hunting?”
”And a very natural thing to wish too, I conceive,” replied Harry; ”but what do you think of his declaring that, if I did not faithfully promise I would not hunt this season, he would go into the stables and divide, what he called in his doctor's lingo, the _flexor metatarsi_ of every animal he found there, which, being interpreted, means neither more nor less than hamstring all the hunters.”
”Well, that would be better than allowing you to do anything which might disturb the beautiful process of granulation going on in your side. I remember, when I was a student at Guy's----”
”Come, doctor, we positively cannot stand any more of your 'Chronicles of the Charnel-house' this morning; -311-- you have horrified Miss Fairlegh already to such a degree that she is going to run away. If I should stroll down here again in the afternoon, f.a.n.n.y, will you take compa.s.sion on me so far as to indulge me with a game of chess? I am going to send Frank on an expedition, and my father and Ellis are off to settle preliminaries with poor Mrs. Probehurt, so that I shall positively not have a creature to speak to. Reading excites me too much, and produces a state of---- What is it you call it, doctor?”
”I told you yesterday I thought you were going into a state of coma, when you fell asleep over that interesting paper of mine in the _Lancet_, 'Recollections of the Knife'; if that's what you call excitement,” returned Ellis, laughing----
”Nonsense, Ellis, how absurd you are!” rejoined Oak-lands, half-amused and half-annoyed at Ellis's remark; ”but you have not granted my request yet, f.a.n.n.y.”
”I do not think we have any engagement--mamma will, I am sure, be very happy”--began f.a.n.n.y, with a degree of hesitation for which I could not account; but as I was afraid Oaklands might notice it, and attribute it to a want of cordiality, I hastened to interrupt her by exclaiming, ”Mamma will be very happy--of course she will; and each and all of us are always only too happy to get you here, old fellow; it does one's heart good to see you beginning to look a little more like yourself again. If f.a.n.n.y's too idle to play chess, I'll take compa.s.sion upon you, and give you a thorough beating myself.”
”There are two good and sufficient reasons why you will not do anything of the kind,” replied Oaklands: ”in the first place, while you have been reading mathematics, I have been studying chess; and I think that I may, without conceit, venture to p.r.o.nounce myself the better player of the two; and in the second place, as I told your sister just now, I am going to send you out on an expedition.”
”To send me on an expedition!” repeated I--”may I be allowed to inquire its nature--where I am to go to--when I am to start--and all other equally essential particulars?”
”They are soon told,” returned Oaklands. ”I wrote a few days since to Lawless, asking him to come down for a week's hunting before the season should be over; and this morning I received the following characteristic answer: 'Dear Oaklands, a man who refuses a good offer is an a.s.s (unless he happens to have had a better one). Now, yours being the best offer down in my book -312-- at present, I say, ”done, along with you, old fellow,” thereby clearly proving that I am no a.s.s. Q. E. D.--eh? that's about the thing, isn't it? Now, look here, Jack Ba.s.set has asked me down to Storley Wood for a day's pheasant shooting on Tuesday: if you could contrive to send any kind of trap over about lunch-time, on Wednesday, I could have a second pop at the long-tails, and be with you in time for a half-past six o'clock feed as it is not more than ten miles from Storley to Heathfield. I wouldn't have troubled you to send for me, only the tandem's _hors de combat_. I was fool enough to lend it to m.u.f.fington Spoffkins to go and see his aunt one fine day. The horses finding a fresh hand on the reins, began pulling like steam-engines--m.u.f.fington could not hold them--consequently they bolted; and after running over two whole infant schools, and upsetting a retired grocer, they knocked the cart into ”immortal smash” against a turnpike-gate, pitching Spoffkins into a horse-pond, with Shrimp a-top of him. It was a regular sell for all parties: I got my cart broken to pieces, Shrimp was all but drowned, and m.u.f.fington's aunt cut him off with a s.h.i.+lling, because the extirpated squadron of juveniles turned out, unfortunately, to have been a picked detachment of infantry from her own village. If you could send to meet me at the Feathers' public-house, which is just at the bottom of Storley great wood, it would be a mercy, for walking in cover doesn't suit my short legs, and I'm safe to be used up.--Remember us to Fairlegh and all inquiring friends, and believe me to remain, very heartily, yours, George Lawless.'”
”I comprehend,” said I, as Oaklands finished reading the note, ”you wish me to drive over this afternoon and fetch him: it will be a great deal better than merely sending a servant.”
”Why, I had thought of going myself, but, 'pon my word, these sort of things are so much trouble--at least to me, I mean; and, though Lawless is a capital, excellent fellow, and I like him extremely, yet I know he'll talk about nothing but horses all the way home; and not being quite strong again yet, you've no notion how that kind of thing worries and tires me.”
”Don't say another word about it, my dear Harry; I shall enjoy the drive uncommonly. What vehicle had I better take?”
”The phaeton, I think,” replied Oaklands, ”and then you can bring his luggage, and Shrimp, or any of his people he may have with him.”
-313-- ”So be it,” returned I; ”I'll walk back with you to the Hall, and then start as soon as you please.
CHAPTER XL -- LAWLESS'S MATINeE MUSICALE
”I was deep in my tradesmen's books, I'm afraid, But not in my own, by-the-by; And when rascally tailors came to be paid, There'll be time enough for that, said I.”
--_Song--The Old Bachelor._
”Here's a knocking, indeed! Knock, knock, knock.
Who's there? Faith, here's an English tailor come hither.
----Come in, tailor---- Knock, knock. Never at quiet!
What are you? I had thought to have let in Some of all professions. Anon--anon.”
--_Macbeth._
I SCARCELY know any excitement more agreeable than driving, on a fine frosty day, a pair of spirited horses, which demand the exercise of all one's coolness and skill to keep their fiery natures under proper control. Some accident had happened to one of Sir John's old phaeton horses, and Harry, who fancied that, as he was not allowed to use any violent exercise, driving would be an amus.e.m.e.nt to him, had taken the opportunity of replacing them by a magnificent pair of young, nearly thorough-bred chestnuts; and these were the steeds now entrusted to my guidance. Not being anxious, however, to emulate the fate of the unfortunate m.u.f.fington Spoffkins, I held them well in hand for the first three or four miles, and as they became used to their work, gradually allowed them to quicken their pace, till we were bowling along merrily at the rate of ten miles an hour.
A drive of about an hour and a quarter brought me within sight of the little roadside public-house appointed for my rendezvous with Lawless.
As I drew sufficiently near to distinguish figures, I perceived the gentleman in question scientifically and picturesquely attired in what might with great propriety be termed no end of a shooting jacket, inasmuch as its waist, being prolonged to a strange and unaccountable extent, had, as a necessary consequence, invaded the region of the skirt to a degree which reduced that appendage to the most absurd and infinitesimal proportions. This wonderful garment was -314-- composed of a fabric which Freddy Coleman, when he made its acquaintance some few days later, denominated the Mac Omnibus plaid, a gaudy _repertoire_ of colours, embracing all the tints of the rainbow, and a few more besides, and was further embellished by a plentiful supply of gent.'s sporting b.u.t.tons, which latter articles were not quite so large as cheese-plates, and represented in bas-relief a series of moving incidents by flood and field. His nether man exhibited a complicated arrangement of corduroys, leather gaiters and waterproof boots, which were, of course, wet through; while, to crown the whole, his head was adorned with one of those round felt hats, which exactly resemble a boiled apple-pudding, and are known by the sobriquet of ”wide-awakes,” ”cos they av'n't got no _nap_ about 'em”. A stout shooting pony was standing at the door of the ale-house, with a pair of panniers, containing a portmanteau and a gun-case, slung across its back, upon which was seated in triumph the mighty Shrimp, who seemed to possess the singular property of growing older, and nothing else; for, as well as one could judge by appearances, he had not increased an inch in stature since the first day of our acquaintance. His att.i.tude, as I drove up, was one which Hunt would have delighted to perpetuate. Perched on a kind of pack-saddle, his legs stretched so widely apart, by reason of the stout proportions of the pony, as to be nearly at right angles with his upper man, he ”held aloft” (not a ”snowy scarf,” but) a pewter pot, nearly as large as himself, the contents of which he was transferring to his own throat, with an air of relish and _savoir faire_, which would have done credit to a seven-feet-high coalheaver. The group was completed by a gamekeeper, who, seated on a low wooden bench, was dividing some bread and cheese with a magnificent black retriever.
”By Jove! what splendid steppers!” was Lawless's exclamation as I drove up. ”Now, that's what I call perfect action; high enough to look well, without battering the feet to pieces--the leg a little arched, and thrown out boldly--no fear of their putting down their pins in the same place they pick them up from. Ah!” he continued, for the first time observing me, ”Fairlegh, how are you, old fellow? Slap-up cattle you've got there, and no mistake--belong to Sir John Oaklands, I suppose. Do you happen to know where he got hold of them?”
”Harry wanted a pair of phaeton horses, and the coachman recommended these,” replied I; ”but I've no idea where he heard of them.”