CHAPTER XVIII.--LEWIS RECEIVES A MYSTERIOUS COMMUNICATION, AND IS RUN

AWAY WITH BY TWO YOUTHFUL BEAUTIES.

The arrival of the post-bag was an interesting event to Lewis, as almost the only pleasure he allowed himself was a rapid interchange of letters with his sister; and to this correspondence was he indebted for an amount of warm sympathy, judicious advice, and affectionate interest in his pursuits which tended greatly to relieve the monotony and diminish the irksomeness of his situation; but with the exception of Rose and (occasionally) Frere, his correspondents were exceedingly limited in number, and their epistles few and far between. It was then a matter of no small surprise to him to receive a businesslike-looking letter in an unknown handwriting. To break the seal (which bore the impression of the letters J. and L. united in a flourishing cipher that at first sight looked like a bad attempt to delineate a true lover’s knot) was the work of a moment. The contents were as follows:--

“Sir,--My partner and myself, having some connection with Warlington, were cognisant of the death of your late lamented father, which sad event was reported to have been caused by the sudden discovery of some important information contained in a public journal. It is in our power to impart to you the nature of that information; but as we have every reason to believe its importance has not been overrated, we are only prepared to do so on the following terms:--viz., the present receipt of ten guineas, and a bond pledging yourself to pay to us the sum of £200 should the information prove as valuable as we conceive it to be. Awaiting the favour of a speedy answer,

“We have the honour to remain, Sir,

“Yours obediently,

“Jones & Levi, Attorneys-at-Law.

“----Street, Old Bailey.”

“What a strange letter!” soliloquised Lewis, after perusing it carefully for the second time. “The writer is evidently acquainted with the circumstances of my poor father’s death, but that proves nothing; the newspaper story rests on the evidence of the library-keeper at Warlington, and he probably told it to every one who came into his shop for the next week; and this tale may have been invented to suit the circumstances, with a view to extort money. One has heard of such rogueries; still, in that case, why insist on the £200 bond? That seems as if Messrs. Jones & Levi themselves had faith in the value of their information; or it may only be done in order to give me that impression. I’ll send the letter up to Richard Frere and ask him to ferret out these gents--I dare say they _are_ thorough gents. Walter, I will not allow you to give Faust all your gloves to play with; that is the third pair he has bitten to pieces this week. Faust! drop it, sir! Do you hear me? That’s right--good, obedient dog! Now for Master Richard.”

So saying he took a pen and wrote, in a delicately-formed yet free and bold hand, the following note:--

“Dear old Frere,--Certain individuals, signing themselves ‘Jones & Levi,’ have seen fit to favour me with the enclosed mysterious communication, which on the face of the thing looks very like an attempt to swindle. As there is, however, just a remote possibility that something may come of it (for their account of the circumstances preceding my poor father’s death tallies exactly with the recital my sister gave me on my return), you will, I am sure, add one more to your many kindnesses by investigating this matter for me. You must bear in mind that £10 notes are by no means too plentiful with me, and that, under present circumstances, my bond for £200 would scarcely be worth as many pence. My poor charge progresses slowly; he has become much more docile and tractable, and is considerably improved in manners and general amiability, but his mental capacity is lamentably deficient; his reasoning powers and usual habits of thought are about on a par with those of an average child of six or seven years old; many intelligent children of that age are greatly his superiors in intellect: still, he makes visible progress, and that is recompense sufficient for any expenditure of time and trouble. He appears much attached to me, and (perhaps for that very reason--perhaps from the necessity to love something, which exists in the nature of every man worthy of the name) I have become so deeply interested in him, that duties which six months ago I should have reckoned irksome in the extreme, I now find a real pleasure in performing. I bore you with these details because... because you are so old a friend that I have acquired a prescriptive right to bore you when I like. As Walter and Faust (who clearly knows that I am writing to you, and sends you an affectionate wag of the tail) are becoming impatient at the length of my epistle, there being a walk in prospect dependent on my arriving at a satisfactory conclusion, the sooner I do so the better.

“Yours ever, L. A.”

As Lewis folded and sealed this missive a servant entered with a note on a silver waiter, saying, as he presented it, “For you, sir. I am desired to wait while you read it.”

It was written in a stiff, formal hand, and ran as follows:--

“Miss Livingstone presents her compliments to Mr. Arundel, and requests the favour of an interview with him.”

“What is in the wind now, I wonder?” thought Lewis, but he only said, “Tell Miss Livingstone I will do myself the pleasure of waiting on her immediately,” and the servant retired.

Minerva was enthroned in state in the small drawing-room, the large one being an awful apartment, dedicated to high and solemn social convocations, and by no means lightly to be entered. Care sat upon her wrinkled brow, and looked as uncomfortable there as in such a situation might reasonably have been expected. As Lewis entered, this remarkable woman rose and performed as near an approach to a curtsey as her elephantine conformation would permit; then, graciously motioning her visitor to a seat, she growled an inquiry after the well-being of his pupil, promulgated a decidedly scandalous account of the state of the weather, with a disheartening prophecy appended relative to meteorological miseries yet to come; and having thus broken her own ice, dived into the chilly recesses of her cold water system, and fished up from its stony depths the weighty grievance that oppressed her.

It appeared that the same post which had conveyed the mysterious document from Messrs. Jones & Levi had also brought a letter from General Grant containing the intelligence that he was about to return home forthwith, that the house was to be prepared for the reception of a large Christmas party, and that he wished Miss Livingstone to pay a round of visits preparatory to the issue of innumerable notes of invitation, by which the neighbourhood was to be induced to attend sundry festive meetings at Broadhurst; and all this was to be done more thoroughly and on a larger scale than usual, for some mysterious reason in regard to which the General was equally urgent and enigmatical. But Minerva shall speak for herself.

“Having thus, Mr. Arundel, made myself acquainted with General Grant’s wishes (fourteen beds to be ready this day week, and not even the hangings put up on one of them--but men are so inconsiderate nowadays), I proceeded to give Reynolds (the housekeeper) full and clear instructions (to not one of which did she pay proper attention--but servants are so careless and self-conceited nowadays) as to all the necessary domestic arrangements. I then desired the coachman might be informed that I should require the carriage to be ready for use at two o’clock to-morrow (as you are perhaps aware, sir, that since the General’s departure for Scotland I have restricted myself to a simple pony-chaise). Judge of my amazement when I was told there were no horses fit for use! I begged to see the coachman instantly, but learned that he was confined to his bed with influenza. The second coachman is in Scotland with the General, so that in fact there was not a creature of sufficient respectability for me to converse with to whom I could give directions about the matter. Under these circumstances, which are equally unexpected and annoying, I considered myself justified in applying to you, Mr. Arundel. Would you oblige me by going through the stables and ascertaining whether anything can be devised to meet the present emergency? I am aware that the service I require of you is beyond the strict routine of your duties; but you must yourself perceive the impossibility of a lady venturing among stablemen and helpers without showing a disregard to that strict rule of propriety by which it has been the study of my life to regulate my conduct.”

Having reached this climax, Minerva glanced with an air of dignified self-approval towards Lewis and began a very unnecessary process of refrigeration with the aid of a fan apparently composed, like its mistress, of equal parts of cast-iron and buckram. Lewis immediately signified his readiness to undertake the commission, and promising to return and report progress, bowed and left the room.

On reaching the stables a groom attended his summons, and, after the fashion of his race, entered into a long explanation of the series of untoward circumstances to which the present state of equine destitution might be attributed, in the course of which harangue he performed, so to speak, a fantasia on the theme, “And then do you see, sir, coachman being hill,” to which sentence, after each variation, he constantly returned. The substance of his communication was as follows:--Shortly before the General’s departure one of the carriage horses had fallen and broken his knees, and its companion having an unamiable predilection for kicking, the pair were sold and a couple of young unbroken animals purchased, which, after a summer’s run, were destined to replace the delinquents. Shortly after this the General fell in love with and bought a pair of iron-grey four-year-olds, also untrained. All these young horses were now taken up from grass and about to be broken in, but the coachman’s illness had interrupted their education.

“Well, but are neither pair of the young stock available?” inquired Lewis.

“I’m afeared not, sir,” was the reply. “The bays ain’t never been in harness, and the iron-greys only three times.”

“Oh, the greys _have_ been in harness three times, have they?” resumed Lewis. “Let us take them out to-day and see how they perform.”

“If you please, sir, I am only pad groom, and I can’t say as I should feel myself disactly compertent to drive them wild young devils.”

“Bring out that mail phaeton; put on the break harness, and I’ll drive them myself,” returned Lewis.

“But, if you please, sir,” began the groom in a tone of remonstrance.

“My good fellow, you waste time in talking. Of course if anything goes wrong in consequence of your obeying my directions, I alone shall be answerable; but nothing will go wrong if your harness is sound,” returned Lewis quickly.

The man, seeing the young tutor was determined, summoned one of his fellows, and in a short time the phaeton was made ready and the horses harnessed and led out. They were a splendid pair of dark iron-greys, with silver manes and tails; their heads, small and well set on, their sloping shoulders, and fine graceful legs, spoke well for their descent; but they snorted with fear and impatience as they were led up to their places, and their bright full eyes gazed wildly and restlessly around.

“Be quiet with them!” exclaimed Lewis as one of the men laid a rude grasp on the rein to back the near-side horse into his place. “You never can be too quiet and steady with a young horse. Soho, boy! what is it then? nobody is going to hurt you,” he continued, patting the startled animal, and at the same time backing him gently into the required position.

The operation of putting-to was soon completed; and Lewis saying, “You had better lead them off if there is any difficulty in getting them to start,” took the reins in his hands and sprang up lightly but quietly. Seating himself firmly, he asked, “Now, are you all ready?” and receiving an answer in the affirmative, continued, “Give them their heads;” then making a mysterious sound which may be faintly portrayed by the letters “tchick,” he endeavoured to start his horses. But this was no such easy matter. The near-side horse the moment he felt the collar ran back, pulling against his companion, who returned the compliment by rearing and striking with his fore-feet at the groom who attempted to hold him.

“Steady there!” cried Lewis. “Pat his neck; that’s right. Quiet, horse! stand, sir! One of you call those men here,” he added, pointing to a couple of labourers who were digging in a slip of ground near. “Now, my men,” he resumed as they came up, “take hold of the spokes of the hind wheels and move the carriage on when I give you the signal. Are you ready? Stand clear; all right.” As he spoke he again attempted to start the horses, and this time more successfully.

The animal which had reared at the first attempt sprang forward, and finding the weight which he had probably fancied was immovable yield to his efforts, appeared anxious to proceed, but the other still hung back, and was partly dragged forward by his yoke-fellow, partly pushed on by the men who were propelling the carriage. Lewis again tried mild measures, but without effect; and at length, considering that the soothing system had been carried far enough, he drew the point of the whip smartly across the animal’s shoulder. In reply to this the recusant flung up his heels as high as the kicking-straps would permit; but on a second and rather sharper application of the thong he plunged forward and threw himself into the collar with a bound that tried the strength of the traces; then pulling like a steam-engine, appeared resolved to revenge himself on his driver by straining every sinew of his arms to the utmost pitch of tension. But rowing, fencing, and other athletic exercises had rendered those arms as hard as iron; and though the swollen muscles rounded and stood out till his coat-sleeve was stretched almost to bursting, Lewis continued to hold the reins in a vice-like grasp, and the fiery horses, arching their proud necks and tossing the foam-flakes from their champing jaws, were compelled to proceed at a moderate pace. The grooms ran by their sides for a short distance, then, at a sign from Lewis, one of the men watched his opportunity and scrambled up while the phaeton was still going on; the other, having opened a gate leading down a road through the park, remained gazing after them with looks of the deepest interest.

“Well, sir, you’ve managed to start ’em easier than I expected,” observed the groom, as, in compliance with Lewis’s desire, he seated himself at his side. “Coachman was a good half-hour a getting ’em hout of the yard last time as they was put-to; that near-sider wouldn’t take the collar no how.”

“And yet he’ll turn out the better horse of the two if he’s judiciously managed,” returned Lewis. “He has higher courage than his companion, though they’re both splendid animals. They only require careful driving and working moderately every day to make as good a pair of carriage-horses as a man need wish to sit behind.”

“It ain’t the first time as you’ve handled the ribbons by a good many, I should say, sir,” continued Bob Richards (for that was the man’s name, dear reader, although I’ve never had an opportunity of telling you so before). “I see’d as you know’d what you was about afore ever you got on the box.”

“_Before_ I got up!” returned Lewis. “How did you manage that, my friend?”

“Why, sir, the furst thing as you did was to cast your eye over the harness to see as all was right; then, afore ever you put your foot on the step you took the reins into your hands, so that the minute you was up you was ready for a bolt, hif so be it had pleased Providence to start the ’orses off suddenly. Now, anybody as wasn’t used to the ways of four-footed quadrupals wouldn’t never have thought of that.”

“Your powers of observation do you credit,” returned Lewis, with difficulty repressing a smile. “You are right, I have been accustomed to driving, as you imagine.” And as he spoke the remembrance of scenes and persons now far away came across him, and he thought with regret of pleasant hours passed with his young associates in Germany, when the mere fact of his being an Englishman caused him to be regarded as an oracle on all matters connected with horseflesh.

While this conversation was taking place the iron-greys had proceeded about a mile through the park, dancing, curvetting, and staring on all sides, as though they would fain shy at every object they discerned.

“They are gradually dropping into a steadier pace, you see,” observed Lewis; “they’ll be tired of jumping about, and glad to trot without breaking into a canter, when they get a little warm to their work. Quiet, boy, quiet!” he continued, as the horses suddenly pricked up their ears and stared wildly about them; “gently there, gently! What in the world are they frightened at now?”

The question did not long remain a doubtful one, for in another minute a hollow, rushing sound became audible, and a herd of deer, startled by the rattling of the carriage, broke from a thicket hard by, and bounding over the tall fern and stunted brushwood, darted across the road, their long thin legs and branching antlers, indistinctly seen in the grey light of an autumn day, giving them a strange and spectre-like appearance. But Lewis had no time to trace fanciful resemblances, for the horses demanded all his attention. As the sound of pattering feet approached they began to plunge violently; at the sight of the deer they stopped short, snorting and trembling with fright; and when the herd crossed the road before them, perfectly maddened with terror they reared till they almost stood upright; then, turning short round, they dashed off the road at right angles, nearly overturning the phaeton as they did so, and breaking into a mad gallop, despite all their driver’s efforts to restrain them, tore away with the speed of lightning. For a few seconds the sound of the wind whistling past his ears, and oppressing his breathing to a painful degree, confused Lewis and deprived him of the power of speech; but the imminence of the danger, and the necessity for calmness and decision, served to restore his self-possession, and turning towards his companion, who, pale with terror, sat convulsively grasping the rail of the seat, he inquired--

“Can you recollect whether there are any ditches across the park in this direction?”

“There ain’t no ditches, as I recollects,” was the reply, “but there’s something a precious sight worser. If these devils go straight ahead for five minutes longer at this pace, we shall be dashed over the bank of the lake into ten foot water.”

“Yes, I remember; I see where we are now. The ground rises to the left, and is clear of trees and ditches, is it not?” asked Lewis.

The groom replied in the affirmative, and Lewis continued: “Then we must endeavour to turn them; do you take the whip, stand up, and be ready to assist me at the right moment. What are you thinking of?” he continued, seeing that the man hesitated and was apparently measuring with his eye the distance from the step to the ground. “It would be madness to jump out while we are going at this rate. Be cool, and we shall do very well yet.”

“I’m agreeable to do whatever you tells me, only be quick about it, sir,” rejoined the groom. “For if it comes to jumping hout, or sitting still to be drownded, hout I goes, that’s flat, for I never could abear cold water.”

“I suppose the reins are strong, and to be depended on?” inquired Lewis.

“Nearly new, sir,” was the reply.

“Then be ready; and when I tell you, exert yourself,” continued Lewis.

While these remarks passed between the two occupants of the phaeton, the horses still continued their mad career, resisting successfully all attempts to check the frightful speed at which they were hurrying on towards certain destruction. As they dashed past a clump of shrubs, which had hitherto concealed from view the danger to which they were exposed, the full peril of their situation became evident to the eyes of Lewis and his companion. With steep and broken banks, on which American shrubs, mixed with flags and bulrushes, grew in unbounded luxuriance, the lake lay stretched before them, its clear depths reflecting the leaden hue of the wintry sky, and a slight breeze from the north rippling its polished surface. Less than a quarter of a mile of smooth greensward separated them from their dangerous neighbour. An artist would have longed to seize this moment for transferring to canvas or marble the expression of Lewis’s features. As he perceived the nearness and reality of the danger that threatened him, his spirit rose with the occasion, and calm self-reliance, dauntless courage, and an energetic determination to subdue the infuriated animals before him, at whatever risk, lent a brilliancy to his flashing eye, and imparted a look of stern resolve to his finely cut mouth, which invested his unusual beauty with a character of superhuman power such as the sculptors of antiquity sought to immortalise in their statues of heroes and demigods. Selecting an open space of turf unencumbered with trees or other obstacles, Lewis once more addressed his companion, saying--

“Now be ready. I am going to endeavour to turn them to the left, in order to get their heads away from the lake and uphill; but as I shall require both hands and all my strength for the reins, I want you to stand up and touch them smartly with the whip on the off-side of the neck. If you do this at the right moment, it will help to bring them round. Do you understand me?”

Richards replied in the affirmative, and Lewis, leaning forward and shortening his grasp on the reins, worked the mouths of the horses till he got their heads well up; then assuring himself by a glance that his companion was ready, he checked their speed by a great exertion of strength; and tightening the left rein suddenly, the groom at the same moment applying the whip as he had been desired, the fiery steeds, springing from the lash and yielding to the pressure of the bit, altered their course, and going round so sharply that the phaeton was again within an ace of being overturned, dashed forward in an opposite direction.

“You did that uncommon well, to be sure, sir,” exclaimed Richards, drawing a long breath like one relieved from the pressure of a painful weight. “I thought we was over once, though; it was a precious near go.”

“A miss is as good as a mile,” returned Lewis, smiling. “Do you see,” he continued, “they are slackening their pace; the hill is beginning to tell upon them already. Hand me the whip; I shall give the gentlemen a bit of a lesson before I allow them to stop, just to convince them that running away is not such a pleasant amusement as they appear to imagine.”

So saying, he waited till the horses began sensibly to relax their speed; then holding them tightly in hand, he punished them with the whip pretty severely, and gave them a good deal more running than they liked before he permitted them to stop, the nature of the ground (a gentle ascent of perfectly smooth turf) allowing him to inflict this discipline with impunity.

After proceeding two or three miles at the same speed he perceived another cross-road running through the park. Gradually pulling up as he approached it, he got his horses into a walk, and as soon as they had once again exchanged grass for gravel he stopped them to recover wind. The groom got down, and gathering a handful of fern, wiped the foam from their mouths and the perspiration from their reeking flanks.

“You’ve given ’em a pretty tidy warming, though, sir,” he observed. “If I was you I would not keep ’em standing too long.”

“How far are we from the house, do you imagine?” inquired Lewis.

“About three mile, I should say,” returned Richards. “It will take you nigh upon half-an-hour, if you drives ’em easy.”

Lewis looked at his watch, muttering, “More than an hour to Walter’s dinner-time.” He then continued, “Get up, Richards; I have not quite done with these horses yet;” adding, in reply to the man’s questioning glance as he reseated himself, “I’m only going to teach them that a herd of deer is not such a frightful object as they seem to imagine it.”

“Sure_ly_ you’re never agoin’ to take’em near the deer again, Mr. Arundel; they’ll never stand it, sir,” expostulated Richards.

“You can get down if you like,” observed Lewis, with the slightest possible shade of contempt in his tone. “I will pick you up here as I return.”

Richards was a thorough John Bull, and it is a well-known fact that to hint to one of that enlightened race that he is afraid to do the most insane deed imaginable is quite sufficient to determine him to go through with it at all hazards. Accordingly, the individual in question pressed his hat on his brows to be prepared for the worst, and folding his arms with an air of injured dignity, sat sullenly hoping for an overturn, which might prove him right, even at the risk of a broken neck.

Lewis’s quick eye had discerned the herd of deer against a dark background of trees which had served to screen them from the less acute perceptions of the servant, and he now contrived, by skirting the aforesaid belt of Scotch firs, to bring the phaeton near the place where the deer were stationed without disturbing them, so that the horses were able clearly to see the creatures which had before so greatly alarmed them. It has been often remarked that horses are greatly terrified by an object seen but indistinctly, at which, when they are able to observe it more closely, they will show no signs of fear. Whether for this reason, or that the discipline they had undergone had cooled their courage and taught them the necessity of obedience, the iron-greys approached the herd of deer without attempting to repeat the manoeuvre which had been so nearly proving fatal to their driver and his companion. Lewis drove them up and down once or twice, each time decreasing the distance between the horses and the animals, to the sight of which he wished to accustom them, without any attempt at rebellion on their part beyond a slight preference for using their hind legs only in progression, and a very becoming determination to arch their necks and point their ears after the fashion of those high-spirited impossibilities which do duty for horses in Greek friezes and in the heated imagination of young lady artists, who possess a wonderful (a very wonderful) talent for sketching animals. Having continued this amusement till the deer once again conveyed themselves away, Lewis, delighted at having carried his point and overcome the difficulties which had opposed him, drove gently back to Broadhurst; and having committed the reeking horses to the care of a couple of grooms, who began hissing at them like a whole brood of serpents, returned to make his report and soothe the tribulation of that anxious hyæna in petticoats, Miss Martha Livingstone.