The information regarding the affairs of the Clavering family, which
Major Pendennis had acquired through Strong, and by his own personal
interference as the friend of the house, was such as almost made the old
gentleman pause in any plans which he might have once entertained for his
nephew's benefit. To bestow upon Arthur a wife with two such
fathers-in-law, as the two worthies whom the guileless and unfortunate
Lady Clavering had drawn in her marriage ventures, was to benefit no man.
And though the one, in a manner, neutralised the other, and the
appearance of Amory or Altamont in public would be the signal for his
instantaneous withdrawal and condign punishment,--for the fugitive
convict had cut down the officer in charge of him,--and a rope would be
inevitably his end; if he came again under British authorities; yet, no
guardian would like to secure for his ward a wife, whose parent was to be
got rid of in such a way; and the old gentleman's notion always had been
that Altamont, with the gallows before his eyes, would assuredly avoid
recognition; while, at the same time, by holding the threat of his
discovery over Clavering, the latter, who would lose everything by
Amory's appearance, would be a slave in the hands of the person who knew
so fatal a secret.
But if the Begum paid Clavering's debts many times more, her wealth would
be expended altogether upon this irreclaimable reprobate; and her heirs,
whoever they might be, would succeed but to an emptied treasury; and Miss
Amory, instead of bringing her husband a good income and a seat in
Parliament, would bring to that individual her person only, and her
pedigree with that lamentable note of sus. per coll. at the name of the
last male of her line.
There was, however, to the old schemer revolving these things in his
mind, another course yet open; the which will appear to the reader who
may take the trouble to peruse a conversation, which presently ensued,
between Major Pendennis and the honourable Baronet, the Member for
Clavering.
When a man, under pecuniary difficulties, disappears from among his usual
friends and equals,--dives out of sight, as it were, from the flock of
birds in which he is accustomed to sail, it is wonderful at what strange
and distant nooks he comes up again for breath. I have known a Pall Mall
lounger and Rotten Row buck, of no inconsiderable fashion, vanish from
amongst his comrades of the Clubs and the Park, and be discovered, very
happy and affable, at an eighteenpenny ordinary in Billingsgate: another
gentleman, of great learning and wit, when outrunning the constable (were
I to say he was a literary man, some critics would vow that I intended to
insult the literary profession), once sent me his address at a little
public-house called the "Fox under the Hill," down a most darksome and
cavernous archway in the Strand. Such a man, under such misfortunes, may
have a house, but he is never in his house; and has an address where
letters may be left; but only simpletons go with the hopes of seeing
him.--Only a few of the faithful know where he is to be found, and have
the clue to his hiding-place. So, after the disputes with his wife, and
the misfortunes consequent thereon, to find Sir Francis Clavering at home
was impossible. "Ever since I hast him for my book, which is fourteen
pound, he don't come home till three o'clock, and purtends to be asleep
when I bring his water of a mornin', and dodges hout when I'm
downstairs," Mr. Lightfoot remarked to his friend Morgan; and announced
that he should go down to my Lady, and be butler there, and marry his old
woman. In like manner, after his altercations with Strong, the Baronet
did not come near him, and fled to other haunts, out of the reach of the
Chevalier's reproaches;--out of the reach of conscience, if possible,
which many of us try to dodge and leave behind us by changes of scene and
other fugitive stratagems.
So, though the elder Pendennis, having his own ulterior object, was bent
upon seeing Pen's country neighbour and representative in Parliament, it
took the Major no inconsiderable trouble and time before he could get him
into such a confidential state and conversation, as were necessary for
the ends which the Major had in view. For since the Major had been called
in as family friend, and had cognisance of Clavering's affairs, conjugal
and pecuniary, the Baronet avoided him: as he always avoided all his
lawyers and agents when there was an account to be rendered, or an affair
of business to be discussed between them; and never kept any appointment
but when its object was the raising of money. Thus, previous to catching
this most shy and timorous bird, the Major made more than one futile
attempt to hold him;--on one day it was a most innocent-looking
invitation to dinner at Greenwich, to meet a few friends; the Baronet
accepted, suspected something, and did not come; leaving the Major (who
indeed proposed to represent in himself the body of friends) to eat his
whitebait alone:--on another occasion the Major wrote and asked for ten
minutes' talk, and the Baronet instantly acknowledged the note, and made
the appointment at four o'clock the next day at Bays's precisely (he
carefully underlined the "precisely"); but though four o'clock came, as
in the course of time and destiny it could not do otherwise, no Clavering
made his appearance. Indeed, if he had borrowed twenty pounds of
Pendennis, he could not have been more timid, or desirous of avoiding the
Major; and the latter found that it was one thing to seek a man, and
another to find him.
Before the close of that day in which Strong's patron had given the
Chevalier the benefit of so many blessings before his face and curses
behind his back, Sir Francis Clavering, who had pledged his word and his
oath to his wife's advisers to draw or accept no more bills of exchange,
and to be content with the allowance which his victimised wife still
awarded him, had managed to sign his respectable name to a piece of
stamped paper, which the Baronet's friend, Mr. Moss Abrams, had carried
off, promising to have the bill "done" by a party with whose intimacy Mr.
Abrams was favoured. And it chanced that Strong heard of this transaction
at the place where the writings had been drawn,--in the back-parlour,
namely, of Mr. Santiago's cigar-shop, where the Chevalier was constantly
in the habit of spending an hour in the evening.
"He is at his old work again," Mr. Santiago told his customer. "He and
Moss Abrams were in my parlour. Moss sent out my boy for a stamp. It must
have been a bill for fifty pound. I heard the Baronet tell Moss to date
it two months back. He will pretend that it is an old bill, and that he
forgot it when he came to a settlement with his wife the other day. I
dare say they will give him some more money now he is clear." A man who
has the habit of putting his unlucky name to "promises to pay" at six
months, has the satisfaction of knowing, too, that his affairs are known
and canvassed, and his signature handed round among the very worst knaves
and rogues of London.
Mr. Santiago's shop was close by St. James's Street and Bury Street,
where we have had the honour of visiting our friend Major Pendennis in
his lodgings. The Major was walking daintily towards his apartment, as
Strong, burning with wrath and redolent of Havanna, strode along the same
pavement opposite to him.
"Confound these young men: how they poison everything with their smoke,"
thought the Major. "Here comes a fellow with mustachios and a cigar.
Every fellow who smokes and wears mustachios is a low fellow. Oh! it's
Mr. Strong.--I hope you are well, Mr. Strong?" and the old gentleman,
making a dignified bow to the Chevalier, was about to pass into his
house; directing towards the lock of the door, with trembling hand, the
polished door-key.
We have said that, at the long and weary disputes and conferences
regarding the payment of Sir Francis Clavering's last debts, Strong and
Pendennis had both been present as friends and advisers of the Baronet's
unlucky family. Strong stopped and held out his hand to his brother
negotiator, and old Pendennis put out towards him a couple of ungracious
fingers.
"What is your good news?" said Major Pendennis, patronising the other
still further, and condescending to address to him an observation; for
old Pendennis had kept such good company all his life, that he vaguely
imagined he honoured common men by speaking to them. "Still in town, Mr.
Strong? I hope I see you well."
"My news is bad news, sir," Strong answered; "it concerns our friends at
Tunbridge Wells, and I should like to talk to you about it. Clavering is
at his old tricks again, Major Pendennis."
"Indeed! Pray do me the favour to come into my lodging," cried the Major
with awakened interest; and the pair entered and took possession of his
drawing-room. Here seated, Strong unburthened himself of his indignation
to the Major, and spoke at large of Clavering's recklessness and
treachery. "No promises will bind him, sir," he said. "You remember when
we met, sir, with my lady's lawyer, how he wouldn't be satisfied with
giving his honour, but wanted to take his oath on his knees to his wife,
and rang the bell for a Bible, and swore perdition on his soul if he ever
would give another bill. He has been signing one this very day, sir: and
will sign as many more as you please for ready money: and will deceive
anybody, his wife or his child, or his old friend, who has backed him a
hundred times. Why, there's a bill of his and mine will be due next week"
"I thought we had paid all."
"Not that one," Strong said, blushing. "He asked me not to mention it,
and--and--I had half the money for that, Major; And they will be down on
me. But I don't care for it; I'm used to it. It's Lady Clavering that
riles me. It's a shame that that good-natured woman, who has paid him out
of gaol a score of times, should be ruined by his heartlessness. A parcel
of bill-stealers boxers, any rascals, get his money; and he don't scruple
to throw an honest fellow over. Would you believe it, sir, he took money
of Altamont--you know whom I mean."
"Indeed? of that singular man, who I think came tipsy once to Sir
Francis's house?" Major Pendennis said, with impenetrable countenance.
"Who is Altamont, Mr. Strong?"
"I am sure I don't know, if you don't know," the Chevalier answered, with
a look of surprise and suspicion.
"To tell you frankly," said the Major, "I have my suspicions--I suppose--
mind, I only suppose--that in our friend Clavering's a life--who, between
you and me, Captain Strong, we must own about as loose a fish as any in
my acquaintance--there are, no doubt, some queer secrets and stories
which he would not like to have known: none of us would. And very likely
this fellow, who calls himself Altamont, knows some story against
Clavering, and has some hold on him, and gets money out of him on the
strength of his information. I know some of the best men of the best
families in England who are paying through the nose in that way. But
their private affairs are no business of mine, Mr. Strong; and it is not
to be supposed that because I go and dine with a man, I pry into his
secrets, or am answerable for all his past life. And so with our friend
Clavering, I am most interested for his wife's sake, and her daughter's,
who is a most charming creature: and when her ladyship asked me, I looked
into her affairs, and tried to set them straight; and shall do so again,
you understand, to the best of my humble power and ability, if I can make
myself useful. And if I am called upon--you understand, if I am called
upon--and--by the way, this Mr. Altamont, Mr. Strong? How is this Mr.
Altamont? I believe you are acquainted with him. Is he in town?"
"I don't know that I am called upon to know where he is, Major
Pendennis," said Strong, rising and taking up his hat in dudgeon, for the
Major's patronising manner and impertinence of caution offended the
honest gentleman not a little.
Pendennis's manner altered at once from a tone of hauteur to one of
knowing good-humour. "Ah, Captain Strong, you are cautious too, I see;
and quite right, my good sir, quite right. We don't know what ears walls
may have, sir, or to whom we may be talking; and as a man of the world,
and an old soldier,--an old and distinguished soldier, I have been told,
Captain Strong,--you know very well that there is no use in throwing away
your fire; you may have your ideas, and I may put two and two together
and have mine. But there are things which don't concern him that many a
man had better not know, eh, Captain? and which I, for one, won't know
until I have reason for knowing them: and that I believe is your maxim
too. With regard to our friend the Baronet, I think with you, it would be
most advisable that he should be checked in his imprudent courses; and
most strongly reprehend any man's departure from his word, or any conduct
of his which can give any pain to his family, or cause them annoyance in
any way. That is my full and frank opinion, and I am sure it is yours."
"Certainly," said Mr. Strong, drily.
"I am delighted to hear it; delighted that an old brother soldier should
agree with me so fully. And I am exceedingly glad of the lucky meeting
which has procured me the good fortune of your visit. Good evening. Thank
you. Morgan, show the door to Captain Strong."
And Strong, preceded by Morgan, took his leave of Major Pendennis; the
Chevalier not a little puzzled at the old fellow's prudence; and the
valet, to say the truth, to the full as much perplexed at his master's
reticence. For Mr. Morgan, in his capacity of accomplished valet, moved
here and there in a house as silent as a shadow; and, as it so happened,
during the latter part of his master's conversation with his visitor, had
been standing very close to the door, and had overheard not a little of
the talk between the two gentlemen, and a great deal more than he could
understand.
"Who is that Altamont? know anything about him and Strong?" Mr. Morgan
asked of Mr. Lightfoot, on the next convenient occasion when they met at
the Club.
"Strong's his man of business, draws the Governor's bills, and indosses
'em, and does his odd jobs and that; and I suppose Altamont's in it too,"
Mr. Lightfoot replied. "That kite-flying, you know, Mr. M., always takes
two or three on 'em to set the paper going. Altamont put the pot on at
the Derby, and won a good bit of money. I wish the Governor could get
some somewhere, and I could get my book paid up."
"Do you think my Lady would pay his debts again?" Morgan asked. "Find out
that for me, Lightfoot, and I'll make it worth your while, my boy."
* * * * * *
Major Pendennis had often said with a laugh, that his vale Morgan was a
much richer man than himself: and, indeed, by long course of careful
speculation, this wary and silent attendant had been amassing a
considerable sum of money, during the year which he had passed in the
Major's service, where he had made the acquaintance of many other valets
of distinction, from whom he had learned the affairs of their principals.
When Mr. Arthur came into his property, but not until then, Morgan had
surprised the young gentleman, by saying that he had a little sum of
money, some fifty or a hundred pound, which he wanted to lay out to
advantage; perhaps the gentlemen in the Temple, knowing about affairs and
business and that, could help a poor fellow to a good investment? Morgan
would be very much obliged to Mr. Arthur, most grateful and obliged
indeed, if Arthur could tell him of one. When Arthur laughingly replied,
that he knew nothing about money matters, and knew no earthly way of
helping Morgan, the latter, with the utmost simplicity, was very
grateful, very grateful indeed, to Mr. Arthur, and if Mr. Arthur should
want a little money before his rents was paid, perhaps he would kindly
remember that his uncle's old and faithful servant had some as he would
like to put out: and be most proud if he could be useful anyways to any
of the family.
The Prince of Fairoaks, who was tolerably prudent and had no need of
ready money, would as soon have thought of borrowing from his uncle's
servant as of stealing the valet's pocket-handkerchief, and was on the
point of making some haughty reply to Morgan's offer, but was checked by
the humour of the transaction. Morgan a capitalist! Morgan offering to
lend to him--The joke was excellent. On the other hand, the man might be
quite innocent, and the proposal of money a simple offer of good-will. So
Arthur withheld the sarcasm that was rising to his lips, and contented
himself by declining Mr. Morgan's kind proposal. He mentioned the matter
to his uncle, however, and congratulated the latter on having such a
treasure in his service.
It was then that the Major said that he believed Morgan had been getting
devilish rich for a devilish long time; in fact, he had bought the house
in Bury Street, in which his master was a lodger and had actually made a
considerable sum of money, from his acquaintance with the Clavering
family and his knowledge obtained through his master that the Begum would
pay all her husband's debts, by buying up as many of the Baronet's
acceptances as he could raise money to purchase. Of these transactions
the Major, however, knew no more than most gentlemen do of their
servants, who live with us all our days and are strangers to us, so
strong custom is, and so pitiless the distinction between class and
class.
"So he offered to lend you money, did he?" the elder Pendennis remarked
to his nephew. "He's a dev'lish sly fellow, and a dev'lish rich fellow;
and there's many a nobleman would like to have such a valet in his
service, and borrow from him too. And he ain't a bit changed, Monsieur
Morgan. He does his work just as well as ever--he's always ready to my
bell--steals about the room like a cat--he's so dev'lishly attached to
me, Morgan!"
On the day of Strong's visit, the Major bethought him of Pen's story, and
that Morgan might help him, and rallied the valet regarding his wealth
with that free and insolent way which so high-placed a gentleman might be
disposed to adopt towards so unfortunate a creature.
"I hear that you have got some money to invest, Morgan," said the Major.
"It's Mr. Arthur has been telling, hang him," thought the valet.
"I'm glad my place is such a good one."
"Thank you, sir--I've no reason to complain of my place, nor of my
master," replied Morgan, demurely.
"You're a good fellow: and I believe you are attached to me; and I'm glad
you get on well. And I hope you'll be prudent, and not be taking a
public-house or that kind of thing."
A public-house, thought Morgan--me in a public-house!--the old fool!--
Dammy, if I was ten years younger I'd set in Parlyment before I died,
that I would.--"No, thank you kindly, sir. I don't think of the public
line, sir. And I've got my little savings pretty well put out, sir."
"You do a little in the discounting way, eh, Morgan?"
"Yes, sir, a very little--I--I beg your pardon, sir--might I be so free
as to ask a question----"
"Speak on, my good fellow," the elder said, graciously.
"About Sir Francis Clavering's paper, sir? Do you think he's any longer
any good, sir? Will my Lady pay on 'em, any more, sir?"
"What, you've done something in that business already?"
"Yes, sir, a little," replied Morgan, dropping down his eyes. And I don't
mind owning, sir, and I hope I may take the liberty of saying, sir, that
a little more would make me very comfortable if it turned out as well as
the last."
"Why, how much have you netted by him, in Gad's name?" asked the Major.
"I've done a good bit, sir, at it: that I own, sir. Having some
information, and made acquaintance with the fam'ly through your kindness,
I put on the pot, sir."
"You did what?"
"I laid my money on, sir--I got all I could, and borrowed, and bought Sir
Francis's bills; many of 'em had his name, and the gentleman's as is just
gone out, Edward Strong, Esquire, sir: and of course I know of the
blow-hup and shindy as is took place in Grosvenor Place, sir: and as I
may as well make my money as another, I'd be very much obleeged to you if
you'd tell me whether my Lady will come down any more."
Although Major Pendennis was as much surprised at this intelligence
regarding his servant, as if he had heard that Morgan was a disguised
Marquis, about to throw off his mask and assume his seat in the House of
Peers; and although he was of course indignant at the audacity of the
fellow who had dared to grow rich under his nose, and without his
cognisance; yet he had a natural admiration for every man who represented
money and success, and found himself respecting Morgan, and being rather
afraid of that worthy, as the truth began to dawn upon him.
"Well, Morgan," said he, "I mustn't ask how rich you are; and the richer
the better for your sake, I'm sure. And if I could give you any
information that could serve you, I would speedily help you. But frankly,
if Lady Clavering asks me whether she shall pay any more of Sir Francis's
debts, I shall advise and I hope she won't, though I fear she will--and
that is all I know. And so you are aware that Sir Francis is beginning
again in his--eh--reckless and imprudent course?"
"At his old games, sir--can't prevent that gentleman. He will do it."
"Mr. Strong was saying that a Mr. Moss Abrams was the holder of one of
Sir Francis Clavering's notes. Do you know anything of this Mr. Abrams;
or the amount of the bill?"
"Don't know the bill, know Abrams quite well, sir."
"I wish you would find out about it for me. And I wish you would find out
where I can see Sir Francis Clavering, Morgan."
And Morgan said, "Thank you, sir, yes, sir, I will, sir;" and retired
from the room, as he had entered it, with his usual stealthy respect and
quiet humility; leaving the Major to muse and wonder over what he had
just heard.
The next morning the valet informed Major Pendennis that he had seen Mr.
Abrams; what was the amount of the bill that gentleman was desirous to
negotiate; and that the Baronet would be sure to be in the back-parlour
of the Wheel of Fortune Tavern that day at one o'clock.
To this appointment Sir Francis Clavering was punctual, and as at one
o'clock he sate in the parlour of the tavern in question, surrounded by
spittoons, Windsor chairs, cheerful prints of boxers, trotting horses,
and pedestrians, and the lingering of last night's tobacco fumes--as the
descendant of an ancient line sate in this delectable place accommodated
with an old copy of Bell's Life in London, much blotted with beer, the
polite Major Pendennis walked into the apartment.
"So it's you, old boy?" asked the Baronet, thinking that Mr. Moss Abrams
had arrived with the money.
"How do you do, Sir Francis Clavering? I wanted to see you, and followed
you here," said the Major, at sight of whom the other's countenance fell.
Now that he had his opponent before him, the Major was determined to make
a brisk and sudden attack upon him, and went into action at once. "I
know," he continued, "who is the exceedingly disreputable person for whom
you took me, Clavering; and the errand which brought you here."
"It ain't your business, is it?" asked the Baronet, with a sulky and
deprecatory look. "Why are you following me about and taking the command,
and meddling in my affairs, Major Pendennis? I've never done you any
harm, have I? I've never had your money. And I don't choose to be dodged
about in this way, and domineered over. I don't choose it, and I won't
have it. If Lady Clavering has any proposal to make to me, let it be done
in the regular way, and through the lawyers. I'd rather not have you."
"I am not come from Lady Clavering," the Major said, "but of my own
accord, to try and remonstrate with you, Clavering, and see if you can be
kept from ruin. It is but a month ago that you swore on your honour, and
wanted to get a Bible to strengthen the oath, that you would accept no
more bills, but content yourself with the allowance which Lady Clavering
gives you. All your debts were paid with that proviso, and you have
broken it; this Mr. Abrams has a bill of yours for sixty pounds."
"It's an old bill. I take my solemn oath it's an old bill," shrieked out
the Baronet.
"You drew it yesterday, and you dated it three months back purposely. By
Gad, Clavering, you sicken me with lies, I can't help telling you so.
I've no patience with you, by Gad. You cheat everybody, yourself
included. I've seen a deal of the world, but I never met your equal at
humbugging. It's my belief you had rather lie than not."
"Have you come here, you old--old beast, to tempt me to--to pitch into
you, and--and knock your old head off?" said the Baronet, with a
poisonous look of hatred at the Major.
"What, sir?" shouted out the old Major, rising to his feet and clasping
his cane, and looking so fiercely, that the Baronet's tone instantly
changed towards him.
"No, no," said Clavering, piteously, "I beg your pardon. I didn't mean to
be angry, or say anything unkind, only you're so damned harsh to me,
Major Pendennis. What is it you want of me? Why have you been hunting me
so? Do you want money out of me too? By Jove, you know I've not got a
shilling,"--and so Clavering, according to his custom, passed from a
curse into a whimper.
Major Pendennis saw, from the other's tone, that Clavering knew his
secret was in the Major's hands.
"I've no errand from anybody, or no design upon you," Pendennis said,
"but an endeavour, if it's not too late, to save you and your family from
utter ruin, through the infernal recklessness of your courses. I knew
your secret----"
"I didn't know it when I married her; upon my oath I didn't know it till
the d----d scoundrel came back and told me himself; and it's the misery
about that which makes me so reckless, Pendennis; indeed it is," the
Baronet cried, clasping his hands.
"I knew your secret from the very first day when I saw Amory come drunk
into your dining-room in Grosvenor Place. I never forget faces. I
remember that fellow in Sydney a convict, and he remembers me. I know his
trial, the date of his marriage, and of his reported death in the bush. I
could swear to him. And I know that you are no more married to Lady
Clavering than I am. I've kept your secret well enough, for I've not told
a single soul that I know it,--not your wife, not yourself till now."
"Poor Lady C., it would cut her up dreadfully," whimpered Sir Francis;
"and it wasn't my fault, Major; you know it wasn't."
"Rather than allow you to go on ruining her as you do; I will tell her,
Clavering, and tell all the world too; that is what I swear I will do,
unless I can come to some terms with you, and put some curb on your
infernal folly. By play, debt, and extravagance of all kind, you've got
through half your wife's fortune, and that of her legitimate heirs, mind
--her legitimate heirs. Here it must stop. You can't live together.
You're not fit to live in a great house like Clavering; and before three
years' more were over would not leave a shilling to carry on. I've
settled what must be done. You shall have six hundred a year; you shall
go abroad and live on that. You must give up Parliament, and get on as
well as you can. If you refuse, I give you my word I'll make the real
state of things known to-morrow; I'll swear to Amory, who, when
identified, will go back to the country from whence he came, and will rid
the widow of you and himself together. And so that boy of yours loses at
once all title to old Spell's property, and it goes to your wife's
daughter. Ain't I making myself pretty clearly understood?"
"You wouldn't be so cruel to that poor boy, would you, Pendennis?" asked
the father, pleading piteously; "hang it, think about him. He's a nice
boy: though he's dev'lish wild, I own he's dev'lish wild."
"It's you who are cruel to him," said the old moralist. "Why, sir, you'll
ruin him yourself inevitably in three years."
"Yes, but perhaps I won't have such dev'lish bad luck, you know;--the
luck must turn: and I'll reform, by Gad, I'll reform. And if you were to
split on me, it would cut up my wife so; you know it would, most
infernally."
"To be parted from you," said the old Major, with a sneer; "you know she
won't live with you again."
"But why can't Lady C. live abroad, or at Bath, or at Tunbridge, or at
the doose, and I go on here?" Clavering continued. "I like being here
better than abroad, and I like being in Parliament. It's dev'lish
convenient being in Parliament. There's very few seats like mine left;
and if I gave it to 'em, I should not wonder the ministry would give me
an island to govern, or some dev'lish good thing; for you know I'm a
gentleman of dev'lish good family, and have a handle to my name, and--and
that sort of thing, Major Pendennis. Eh, don't you see? Don't you think
they'd give me something dev'lish good if I was to play my cards well?
And then, you know, I'd save money, and be kept out of the way of the
confounded hells and rouge et noir--and--and so I'd rather not give up
Parliament, please." For at one instant to hate and defy a man, at the
next to weep before him, and at the next to be perfectly confidential and
friendly with him, was not an unusual process with our versatile-minded
Baronet.
"As for your seat in Parliament," the Major said, with something of a
blush on his cheek, and a certain tremor, which the other did not see,
"you must part with that, Sir Francis Clavering, to--to me."
"What! are you going into the House, Major Pendennis?"
"No--not I; but my nephew, Arthur, is a very clever fellow and would make
a figure there: and when Clavering had two members, his father might very
likely have been one; and--and should like Arthur to be there," the Major
said.
"Dammy, does he know it, too?" cried out Clavering.
"Nobody knows anything out of this room," Pendennis answered; and if you
do this favour for me, I hold my tongue. "If not, I'm a man of my word,
and will do what I have said."
"I say, Major," said Sir Francis, with a peculiarly humble smile "You--
You couldn't get me my first quarter in advance, could you, like the best
of fellows? You can do anything with Lady Clavering; and, upon my oath,
I'll take up that bill of Abrams'. The little dam scoundrel, I know he'll
do me in the business--he always does; and if you could do this for me,
we'd see, Major."
"And I think your best plan would be to go down in September to Clavering
to shoot, and take my nephew with you, and introduce him. Yes, that will
be the best time. And we will try and manage about the advance." (Arthur
may lend him that, thought old Pendennis. Confound him, a seat in
Parliament is worth a hundred and fifty pounds.) "And, Clavering, you
understand, of course, my nephew knows nothing about this business. You
have a mind to retire: he is a Clavering man and a good representative.
for the borough; you introduce him, and your people vote for him--you
see."
"When can you get me the hundred and fifty, Major? When shall I come and
see you? Will you be at home this evening or to-morrow morning? Will you
have anything here? They've got some dev'lish good bitters in the bar. I
often have a glass of bitters, it sets one up so."
The old Major would take no refreshment; but rose and took his leave of
the Baronet, who walked with him to the door of the Wheel of Fortune, and
then strolled into the bar, where he took a glass of gin and bitters with
the landlady there: and a gentleman connected with the ring (who boarded
at the Wheel of F.) coming in, he and Sir Francis Clavering and the
landlord talked about the fights and the news of the sporting world in
general; and at length Mr. Moss Abrams arrived with the proceeds of the
Baronet's bill, from which his own handsome commission was deducted, and
out of the remainder Sir Francis "stood" a dinner at Greenwich to his
distinguished friend, and passed the evening gaily at Vauxhall.
Meanwhile Major Pendennis, calling a cab in Piccadilly, drove to Lamb
Court, Temple, where he speedily was closeted with his nephew in deep
conversation.
After their talk they parted on very good terms, and it was in
consequence of that unreported conversation, whereof the reader
nevertheless can pretty well guess the bearing, that Arthur expressed
himself as we have heard in the colloquy with Warrington, which is
reported in the last chapter.
When a man is tempted to do a tempting thing, he can find a hundred
ingenious reasons for gratifying his liking; and Arthur thought very much
that he would like to be in Parliament, and that he would like to
distinguish himself there, and that he need not care much what side he
took, as there was falsehood and truth on every side. And on this and on
other matters he thought he would compromise with his conscience, and
that Sadduceeism was a very convenient and good-humoured profession of
faith.
