CHAPTER X.

A SCENE AT THE HOUSE OF SIR CHRISTOPHER BLUNT.

On the following afternoon, shortly after four o'clock, three gentlemen sate, sipping their wine after an early dinner, in a magnificently furnished room in Jermyn Street.

The one who occupied the head of the table was a red-faced, stout, elderly gentleman, with hair of that blueish-black which denotes the use of an artificial dye, and with large bushy whiskers of a similar tint. He was dressed in a blue coat with brass buttons, white waistcoat, and black kerseymere trousers fitting very tight. A massive gold chain depended from his neck; and on his fingers he wore several rings of great value. In manner he was authoritative, even to rudeness: for, being immensely rich, he firmly believed that money constituted an aristocracy which had a perfect right to command. His pride was the more excessive too, as he had risen from nothing: that is, he had begun life as an errand boy in a linen-draper's shop, and had finished his mercantile career as a warehouseman in Wood Street, where he amassed a considerable fortune. He had filled the office of Sheriff, but had vainly endeavoured to procure an aldermanic gown; and, having failed to persuade the livery-men of Portsoken Ward that he was the very best person they could possibly choose to represent them in the superior City Court, he had ever since affected to rejoice at his rejection, and to look upon all City men and City matters with contempt. In reality, too, he was dreadfully mortified at the fact of his low origin; but, with that clumsy duplicity which vulgar minds often employ in such cases, he pretended to make a boast of his humble beginning, and used the subject as a means of constantly reminding his friends and acquaintances of what he had done for himself. While he held the Shrievalty, it fell to his lot to present an address to the Prince Regent; and on that occasion he received the honour of knighthood. Such was Sir Christopher Blunt.

The gentleman who sate at the bottom of the table was Mr. Frank Curtis, Sir Christopher's nephew. He was a tall, spare, thin, sickly-looking young man, of three-and-twenty; with long, straight, black hair, large staring dark eyes, very bad teeth, and a disagreeable, impudent, pert expression of countenance. He was an orphan, and totally dependent upon his uncle, who had brought him up to no business, inasmuch as he had looked upon the young man as his heir. Sir Christopher, however, having reached his fiftieth year without ever thinking of matrimony, was suddenly smitten with Miss Julia Mordaunt, Lady Hatfield's friend; and as Miss Mordaunt belonged to a very ancient though a greatly impoverished family, Sir Christopher thought that he should gain his darling wish—namely, obtain standing and consideration in the fashionable world—by conducting that lady to the hymeneal altar. This ardent desire he nevertheless kept to himself as much as possible; his first object being to get rid of his nephew in some way or another. For Mr. Frank Curtis had acquired considerable influence over his uncle; and the latter was too much of a moral coward to be able to tell his nephew boldly and frankly that he proposed "to change his condition." The passion which Frank had conceived for Miss Adelais Torrens seemed to furnish the knight with an opportunity to settle the young man, and thus throw off an influence which impeded his own matrimonial designs: hence the readiness of Sir Christopher to lend Mr. Torrens five thousand pounds as an inducement for that gentleman to compel his portionless daughter to accept Mr. Frank Curtis for a husband. We must add, that Frank had passed six months on the continent; and this brief sojourn in France had supplied the staple commodity of his entire conversational powers. Nor must we forget to observe that he was as arrogant a boaster as he was in reality a coward; and that he was so afflicted with the vice of mendaciousness, he could scarcely speak the truth by accident.

The third gentleman present in Sir Christopher's splendid dining-room, was Mr. Howard, the knight's solicitor. We need not say more relative to this individual than that he was about five-and-forty years old, enjoyed an excellent practice, was considered a fine-looking man by the ladies, and was noted for his devotion to the Turf.

The table was spread with a choice dessert and an assortment of the most exquisite wines, to which the three gentlemen appeared to be doing ample justice. Sir Christopher drank copiously, because he felt particularly well pleased at the prospect of getting rid of his nephew, for whom and the intended bride he had taken and furnished a beautiful house at Clapham: Frank had frequent recurrence to the bottle, because he felt nervous and anxious;—and the lawyer stuck fast to the Burgundy, because he liked it.

"Take care, Frank, how you fill your glass too often," said Mr. Howard; "or the young ladies will not find you very agreeable presently."

"Don't mind me, old fellow," exclaimed Curtis: "I can drink you under the table any day. Why, when I was in Paris I used to think nothing of a bottle of brandy with my breakfast. I recollect once betting thirty napoleons with an old Major of grenadiers at Boulogne——"

"A drum-major, I suppose, Frank," said the lawyer with a smile.

"Frank could not so far forget himself as to associate with a _drum_-major," observed Sir Christopher, in a voice like that of a man who goes about with a Punch and Judy show. "Thanks to my honest exertions, I have placed myself—and, in placing myself, have placed _him_—in a position which you will permit me to call brilliant. You know I make no secret of what I _was_. I rose from nothing—and I'm proud of it. And if his gracious Majesty, in acknowledgment of my humble merits, condescended to bestow upon me the honour of knighthood——"

"Oh! blow that old story, uncle!" cried the dutiful nephew. "I was telling you how I laid fifty napoleons with a Colonel of French engineers that I would drink two bottles of champagne to every one of his share——"

"What time will the horses be round at the door?" demanded Howard of the knight; for the lawyer was anxious to escape the menaced tale.

"At six o'clock precise," answered Sir Christopher. "I am always punctual. I learnt punctuality when I was a lad; and I firmly believe it helped to make me what I am. When I look around and see how I am now situated, and think of what I was——"

"Do let me tell you this story," interrupted Frank, re-filling his glass: "it is a capital one, I can assure you. Well, so the French Major-General and me, we sate down at table, and spread out the hundred and fifty napoleons that we had bet. Then we rang the bell, and ordered three bottles of Burgundy to begin with—two for me, and one for him."

"Burgundy was it?" said the lawyer, sipping his wine.

"No—claret, and I told you so," exclaimed Curtis. "But how provoking you are! Well, so the Lieutenant-General and me, we began to drink the champagne just as if it was so much water—both of us eyeing the two hundred napoleons——"

"Half-past four," said Mr. Howard, looking at his watch, and with difficulty suppressing a yawn.

"For I felt sure of winning—and so did he," continued Frank Curtis. "Well, I soon disposed of my _two_ bottles of Port, and the General drank his _one_ like a Trojan. To work we went again—two more for me, and another for him. Then I proposed cigars, because I knew that I could stand smoking better than him. He agreed; and we puffed away like two factory-chimnies. At last he showed signs of distress——"

"Ah! got quite groggy, like a prize-fighter at the fortieth round," observed Mr. Howard.

"Exactly," said Frank: "and so by the time I had finished my sixth bottle of Sherry, and the Field-Marshal had only got half-way through his third, he was completely sewn up. I pocketed the five hundred napoleons, as a matter of course—rang the bell to desire the waiter to take the Admiral off to bed—and then went and did the amiable at an evening party, where no one could tell that I had ever been drinking at all."

"And so you think that a very pleasant adventure, Master Frank?" said Sir Christopher. "Now, for my part, I leave guzzling and hard-drinking to those vulgar citizens the other side of Temple Bar. Do you know, Howard, that I really believe it was the most fortunate day of my life when I lost the election for Portsoken? If I had become an Alderman——"

"You would have _looked_ the Alderman to perfection, Sir Christopher," observed the lawyer.

"Well—well—I might have been dignified on the bench—or I might not," said the knight complacently: "that is a mere matter of opinion—although I _have_ been told by a friend who is not accustomed to flatter, that I have more sense—sound sense, I mean—in my little finger, than all the Aldermen and Common Councilmen put together. But it was fortunate for me—very fortunate—that I escaped from the vulgar contact of those citizens."

At this moment a servant entered the room, to announce that a gentleman desired to speak to Sir Christopher Blunt.

"Show him up—show him up," cried the knight. "I have no secrets that my nephew and solicitor may not hear."

The domestic retired; and in a few minutes he re-appeared, ushering in Rainford by the name of Captain Sparks.

Tom was dressed in his usual sporting garb, over which he wore a white top-coat—an article of attire much in vogue in those days amongst gentlemen who were accustomed to ride much on horseback. As he walked, his silver spurs clinked on the heels of his well-polished boots; and in his right hand he carried a whip.

"Beg your pardon, gentlemen, for this intrusion," said Tom, as he entered the room; "but having heard from my very particular friend Mr. Torrens of the little affair that is to take place to-morrow morning——"

"Pray sit down, Captain Sparks," interrupted Sir Christopher. "Any friend of Mr. Torrens is welcome in this house. I do not, however, remember that he has mentioned your name in my hearing."

"Very likely not," said Rainford, drawing a chair close to the table. "The fact is I have been travelling in the north, for my amusement, during the last two years; and I only returned to town this morning. The first thing I did was to run down and see my dear friend Torrens: and you may fancy how surprised and pleased I was to learn what an excellent match his eldest daughter was about to make."

"There is the bridegroom, Captain Sparks," said the knight, pompously waving his hand towards his nephew.

"Very happy to form your acquaintance, Mr. Curtis," exclaimed Tom, with a polite bow.

"Equally delighted to know you, Captain," replied the nephew. "Here's a clean glass—and there's the bottle. Help yourself."

"With much pleasure," said Tom, suiting the action to the word. "But I was about to tell you that Mr. Torrens did me the honour to invite me to the wedding; and as I was obliged to come back to town to have my portmanteau sent down to the Cottage, I have made bold to intrude myself upon you, gentlemen, with the view of joining your party—that is, if you will permit me."

"We shall be quite charmed, Captain Sparks," answered Sir Christopher Blunt. "I need not inquire if you proceed to the Cottage on horseback!"

"Oh! yes—none of your coaches or carriages for me," returned Tom. "I have put up my horse at the stables close by in York Street; for my groom was taken ill a couple of hours ago——"

"Our horses are also there," interrupted Sir Christopher; "and one of _my_ grooms," he added ostentatiously, "shall bring round yours when he fetches ours. But I beg pardon for my rudeness, Captain Sparks:—this gentleman is Mr. Howard—_my_ solicitor."

Rainford and the lawyer bowed to each other; the wine went round; and Tom chuckled inwardly at the success of his stratagem to obtain access to the knight.

"You see, Captain Sparks," said Sir Christopher in a dictatorial tone, "this projected alliance has met with some little opposition on the part of the young lady herself."

"So Torrens told me this afternoon," observed Tom coolly. "But the qualifications of your nephew, Sir Christopher, are doubtless such——"

"I flatter myself," exclaimed Curtis, pleased with this compliment, "that I have the knack of making myself agreeable to the women when I choose. Why, the day that I left Paris, a French Marchioness took poison, and a Countess went melancholy mad—both without any apparent cause: but _I_ knew deuced well what was the reason, though."

"You're a sad fellow, Frank," said the lawyer.

"Now why should you assert that?" cried the young man, affecting to be annoyed by the remark. "Did I tell you that any thing particular occurred between me and those ladies? Suppose the Duchess _did_ have a little partiality for me—and suppose the Baroness _was_ the least thing jealous—eh? What then?"

"Ah! what then, indeed?" said Tom Rain. "Mr. Curtis is too much a man of honour to betray those fair ones who were weak enough to be beguiled by his soft nonsense."

"Egad! you're right," exclaimed Frank, in whose good opinion the self-styled Captain was rapidly rising. "I would not give a fig for a fellow that boasts of his conquests. But if any one _might_ boast on that subject, I think it is your humble servant. What do you say, Howard? Haven't I told you some queer tales at times?"

"You have indeed," answered the lawyer drily.

"Talking of boasting, Captain Sparks," said the knight, who now found means to thrust in a word, "it is _my_ opinion that the only legitimate boast is that which a man can make of having risen from nothing. Now I never attempt to conceal my origin: on the contrary, I glory in it. Why, sir, I began life without a sixpence, and without a friend: and now look at me!"

Tom Rain did look at Sir Christopher, as he was requested to do; and it struck our friend that there was nothing very particular to admire in the worthy knight after all.

"You see me, Captain Sparks?" continued Sir Christopher, in an authoritative tone. "Well, sir—such as I am now, I made myself."

"And the more to your credit," said Tom, who could not help thinking that if the knight's words were to be taken literally, it was a great pity that he had not made himself a trifle handsomer while he was about it.

"Come, Howard, pass the bottle, old fellow," cried Frank Curtis, who always got disgustingly familiar when he was in his cups—which was so often that he was seldom out of them: and, as is the case with all persons who boast of the quantity they can drink, it did not require much to upset him. "Remember," he added, "we have rather a lonely road to travel part of the way——"

"Why—you surely cannot be afraid of robbers, Mr. Curtis?" exclaimed Tom, bursting out into a merry laugh.

"I afraid!" ejaculated the young man; "not I! I should think not, indeed! Why, when I was travelling from Abbeville to Paris in the mail, we were stopped by three highwaymen in the middle of the night. The government-courier and myself tackled them in a moment: we were the only persons in the mail, and the postboy was so frightened that he got off his seat and hid himself under one of the horses. Well, the poor courier was soon disabled; but I was not easily done up. Egad! in less than three minutes I forced the whole five scoundrels to sheer off."

"Oh! I have no doubt of it," said Tom very quietly. "A powerful and courageous young gentleman like you must be a match for any five highwaymen in the world."

"Come, come now," exclaimed Frank: "I don't say _that_ exactly. But I will assert this much—that I have no more fears of a robber than I should have of a child's stopping me on the highway."

"In that case," observed Mr. Howard, throwing a pocket-book across the table towards Curtis, "you had better take charge of the money that's to be paid over to Mr. Torrens presently."

"Oh! as for _that_——But, never mind," cried Frank, not appearing particularly to relish the office of treasurer thus forced upon him, yet unable to decline the trust after his magniloquent vaunting: "I'll keep the two thousand safe enough, depend upon it."

Sir Christopher looked at his watch; and, finding that the hour for departure was approaching, he rang the bell to order the horses.

Precisely as the clock struck six, the party, attended by John Jeffreys, with whom Rain had found an opportunity to exchange a word or two, quitted Jermyn Street, and rode towards Westminster Bridge.