CHAPTER XVI. DAVIS VERSUS DUNN.
Davenport Dunn had not exaggerated when he spoke of a busy day for the morrow. As early as eight o'clock was he at breakfast, and before nine the long back parlor, with its deep bay-window, was crowded like the waiting-room of a fashionable physician. Indeed, in the faces of anxiety, eagerness, and impatience of those assembled there, there was a resemblance. With a tact which natural shrewdness and long habit could alone confer, Mr. Clowes, the butler, knew exactly where each arrival should be introduced; and while railway directors, bank governors, and great contractors indiscriminately crowded the large dining-room, peers and right honorables filled the front drawing-room, the back one being reserved for law officers of the Crown, and such secret emissaries as came on special mission from the Castle. From the hall, crammed with frieze-coated countryfolk, to the little conservatory on the stairs, where a few ladies were grouped, every space was occupied. Either from previous acquaintance, or guided by the name of the visitor, Mr. Clowes had little difficulty in assigning him his fitting place, dropping, as he accompanied him, some few words, as the rank and station of the individual might warrant his addressing to him. “I 'll let Mr. Dunn know your Lordship is here this instant; he is now just engaged with the Chief Baron.”—“He 'll see you, Sir Samuel, next.”—“Mr. Wilcox, you have no chance for two hours; the Foyle deputation is just gone in.”—“You need scarcely wait to-day, Mr. Tobin; there are eighteen before you.”—“Colonel Craddock, you are to come on Saturday, and bring the plans with you.”—“Too late, Mr. Dean; his Grace the Archbishop waited till a quarter to eleven, the appointment is now for to-morrow at one.”—“No use in staying, my honest fellow, your own landlord could n't see Mr. Dunn to-day.” In the midst of such brief phrases as these, while he scattered hopes and disappointments about him, he suddenly paused to read a card, stealing a quick glance at the individual who presented it “'Mr. Annesley Beecher.' By appointment, sir?”
“Well, I suppose I might say yes,” muttered the visitor, while he turned to a short and very overdressed person at his side for counsel in the difficulty.
“To be sure—by appointment,” said the other, confidently, while he bestowed on the butler a look of unmistakable defiance.
“And this—gentleman—is with you, sir?” asked the butler, pausing ere he pronounced the designation. “Might I request to have his name?”
“Captain Davis,” said the short man, interposing. “Write it under your own, Beecher.”
While Mr. Annesley Beecher was thus occupied,—and, sooth to say, it was an office he did not discharge with much despatch,—Clowes had ample time to scan the appearance and style of the strangers.
“If you 'll step this way, sir,” said Clowes, addressing Beecher only, “I'll send in your card at once.” And he ushered them as he spoke into the thronged dinner-room, whose crowded company sat silent and moody, each man regarding his neighbor with a kind of reproachful expression, as though the especial cause of the long delay he was undergoing.
“You ought to 'tip' that flunkey, Beecher,” said Davis, as soon as they were alone in a window.
“Haven't the tin, Master Grog!” said the other, laughing; while he added, in a lower voice, “Do you know, Grog, I don't feel quite comfortable here. Rather mixed company, ain't it, for a fellow who only goes out of a Sunday?”
“All safe,” muttered Davis. “These all are bank directors or railway swells. I wish we had the robbing of them!”
“Good deal of humbug about all this, ain't there?” whispered Beecher, as he threw his eyes over the crowded room.
“Of course there is,” replied the other. “While he's keeping us all kicking our shins here, he's reading the 'Times,' or gossiping with a friend, or weighing a double letter for the post. It was the dentists took up the dodge first, and the nobs followed them.”
“I 'm not going to stand it much longer, Grog. I tell you I don't feel comfortable.”
“Stuff and nonsense! You don't fancy any of these chaps has a writ in his pocket, do you? Why, I can tell you every man in the room. That little fellow, with the punch-colored shorts, is chairman of the Royal Canal Company. I know him, and he knows me. He had me 'up' about a roulette-table on board of one of the boats, and if it had n't been for a trifling incident that occurred to his wife at Boulogne, where she went for the bathing, and which I broke to him in confidence—But stay, he's coming over to speak to me.”
“How d'ye do, Captain Davis?” said the stranger, with the air of a man resolved to brave a difficulty, while he threw into the manner a tone of haughty patronage.
“Pretty bobbish, Mr. Hailes; and you, the same I hope.”
“Well, thank you. You never paid me that little visit you promised at Leixlip.”
“I 've been so busy of late; up to my ears, as they say. Going to start a new company, and thinking of asking your assistance too.”
“What's the nature of it?”
“Well, it's a kind of a mutual self-securing sort of thing against family accidents. You understand,—a species of universal guarantee to insure domestic peace and felicity,—a thing that will come home to us all; and I only want a few good names in the direction, to give the shares a push.”
Beecher looked imploringly, to try and restrain him; but he went on,—
“May I take the liberty to put you down on the committee of management?”
Before any answer could come to this speech, Mr. Clowes called out in a deep voice,—
“Mr. Annesley Beecher and Captain Davis;” and flung wide the door for them to pass out.
“Why did you say that to him, Grog?” whispered Beecher, as they moved along.
“Just because I was watching the way he looked at me. He had a hardy, bold expression on his face that showed he needed a reminder, and so I gave him one. Always have the first blow when you see a fellow means to strike you.”
Mr. Davenport Dunn rose as the visitors entered the' room, and having motioned to them to be seated, took his place with his back to the fire,—a significant intimation that he did not anticipate a lengthy review. Whether it was that he had not previously settled in his own mind how to open the object of his visit, or that something in Dunn's manner and appearance unlike what he anticipated had changed his intention; but certain is it that Beecher felt confused and embarrassed, and when reminded by Dunn's saying, “I am at your service, sir,” he turned a most imploring look towards Davis to come to his rescue. The captain, however, with more tact, paid no attention to the appeal; and Beecher, with an immense effort, stammered out, “I have taken the liberty to call on you. I have come here today in consequence of a letter—that is, my brother, Lord Lackington—You know my brother?”
“I have that honor, sir.”
“Well, in writing to me a few days back, he added a hurried postscript, saying he had just seen you; that you were then starting for Ireland, where, on your arrival, it would be well I should wait upon you at once.”
“Did his Lordship mention with what object, sir?”
“I can't exactly say that he did. He said something about your being his man of business, thoroughly acquainted with all his affairs, and so, of course, I expected—I believed, at least—that you might be able to lead the way,—to show me the line of country, as one might call it,” added he, with a desperate attempt to regain his ease by recurring to his favorite phraseology.
“Really, sir, my engagements are so numerous that I have to throw myself on the kindness of those who favor me with a call to explain the object of their visit.”
“I haven't got Lackington's letter about me; but if I remember aright, all he said was, 'See Dunn as soon as you can, and he 'll put you up to a thing or two,' or words to that effect.”
“I regret deeply, sir, that the expressions give me no clew to the matter in hand.”
“If this ain't fencing, my name isn't Davis,” said Grog, breaking in. “You know well, without any going about the bush, what he comes about; and all this skirmishing is only to see if he's as well 'up' as yourself in his own business. Now then, no more chaff, but go in at once.”
“May I ask who is this gentleman?”
“A friend,—a very particular friend of mine,” said Beecher, quickly,—“Captain Davis.”
“Captain Davis,” repeated Dunn, in a half voice to himself, as if to assist his memory to some effort,—“Captain Davis.”
“Just so,” said Grog, defiantly,—“Captain Davis.”
“Does his Lordship's letter mention I should have the honor of a call from Captain Davis, sir?”
“No; but as he's my own intimate friend,—a gentleman who possesses all my confidence,—I thought, indeed, I felt, the importance of having his advice upon any questions that might arise in this interview.”
“I 'm afraid, sir, you have subjected your friend to a most unprofitable inconvenience.”
“The match postponed till further notice,” whispered Grog.
“I beg pardon, sir,” said Dunn, not overhearing the remark.
“I was a saying that no race would come off to-day, in consequence of the inclemency of the weather,” said Grog, as he adjusted his shirt collar.
“Am I to conclude, then,” said Beecher, “that you have not any communication to make to me?”
“No, you ain't,” broke in Grog, quickly. “He don't like me, that's all, and he has n't the manliness to say it.”
“On the contrary, sir, I feel all the advantage of your presence on this occasion, all the benefit of that straightforward manner of putting the question which saves us so much valuable time.”
Grog bowed an acknowledgment of the compliment, but with a grin on his face that showed in what spirit he accepted it.
“Lord Lackington did not speak to you about my allowance?” asked Beecher, losing all patience.
“No, sir, not a word.”
“He did not allude to a notion—he did not mention a plan—he did not discuss people called O'Reilly, did he?” asked he, growing more and more confused and embarrassed.
“Not a syllable with reference to such a name escaped him, sir.”
“Don't you see,” said Grog, rising, “that you 'll have to look for the explanation to the second column of the 'Times,' where 'A. B. will hear something to his advantage if he calls without C.D.'?”
Davenport Dunn paid no attention to this remark, but stood calmly impassive before them.
“It comes to this, then, that Lackington has been hoaxing me,” said Beecher, rising, with an expression of ill-temper on his face.
“I should rather suggest another possibility,” said Dunn, politely; “that, knowing how far his Lordship has graciously reposed his own confidence in me, he has generously extended to me the chance of obtaining the same position of trust on the part of his brother,—an honor I am most ambitious to attain. If you are disengaged on Sunday next,” added he, in a low voice, “and would favor me with your company at dinner, alone,—quite alone—”
Beecher bowed an assent in silence, casting a cautious glance towards Davis, who was scanning the contents of the morning paper.
“Till then,” muttered Dunn, while he added aloud, “A good-morning,” and bowed them both to the door.
“Well, you are a soft un, there's no denying it,” said Davis, as they gained the street.
“What d'ye mean?” cried Beecher, angrily.
“Why, don't you see how you spoiled all? I'd have had the whole story out of him, but you would n't give me time to 'work the oracle.' He only wanted to show us how cunning he was,—that he was deep and all that; and when he saw that we were all wonder and amazement about his shrewdness, then he 'd have gone to business.”
“Not a bit of it, Master Grog; that fellow's wide awake, I tell you.”
“So much the worse for you, then, that's all.”
“Why so?”
“Because you're a going to dine with him on Sunday next, all alone. I heard it, though you did n't think I was listening, and I saw the look that passed, too, as much as to say, 'We 'll not have that fellow;' and that's the reason I say, 'So much the worse for you.'”
“Why, what can he do, with all his craft? He can't make me put my name to paper; and if he did, much good would it do him.”
“You can't make running against the like of him,” said Grog, contemptuously. “He has an eye in his head like a dog-fox. You 've no chance with him. He could n't double on me,—he 'd not try it; but he 'll play you like a trout in a fish-pond.”
“What if I send him an excuse, then,—shall I do that?”
“No. You must go, if it was only to show that you suspect nothing; but keep your eyes open, watch the ropes, and come over to me when the 'heat is run.'”
And with this counsel they parted.