CHAPTER XXXV. NATIONAL EMERGENCY.
Everything seemed to go well with me now, except for one sad visitation—the loss of my dear Uncle William. He, by his brave resignation, and patience, childlike simplicity, and wonderful yarns, as well as pipes, and grog, and quids—whenever he could get them—had endeared himself greatly, in a few days, not only to me, but to all at the Bower. Even Grip went to see him, and took such a fancy to him, that he would sit with his chin in the wasted brown hand, and look at him sorrowfully by the hour; as if they were two poor old broken chaps together. And the night Uncle Bill died, Grip never stopped howling; and he went about the place, and scarcely ate a bit of victuals, until he had attended the funeral.
But Uncle Bill's death, though very sad to us, was painless, and placid, and happy to himself. He had said, that he should like to see the chaplain; and accordingly Mr. Cope came in. We left them to themselves, and there was not much said; only they had a little prayer together; and Mr. Cope asked him if he had any doubts, and he said "None whatever." In the morning, he was passed beyond all doubts; and I, who sat up with him, cannot say exactly the hour, when his Angel came for him.
He always felt faith in the Lord, all his life; and though he may not have lived up to it, surely his last end was better than that of a man who endeavours to outstrip the Devil, by growing a tail to frighten him.
One thing surprised me about Uncle Bill, as soon as I had spirit to think of it; and that was—why had he never said a word about Jumbilug's eyes, to my mother, or myself, when he knew that his last time for business was come? I had even gone so far as to ask him, (when Dr. Flebotham pronounced his own task accomplished) whether he would like me to bring them in, and show them; or whether there was anything he wished to say about them. But he put his pipe-stem to his lips—for he was allowed to do anything now, that would make his last hours tranquil—and he tried to shake his head, as if to say—"all that is settled." And the only provision he made for death, (as regards this world, and its dealings) was to have his favourite pipe buried with him, and a quarter of a pound of bird's-eye, and a box of the "Bottom of the Atlantic Matches," which nothing can prevent from striking. For he had been among savage tribes so much, that all this became orthodox on his part.
Whether he was lawyer enough to know—for sailors do pick up queer things—that he saved the family £4,500, by this behaviour; or whether it was only that he would not now disturb himself, and did not wish to be reminded of the only stars, that living people care for; or whether he would not confuse his last pipe; at any rate, in the most decisive manner, he conveyed to me, that he would have no more said about Jumbilug's eyes—which he would have condemned, at any less momentous moment—but all was to be, as he had once for all directed. This made me feel a certain sense of trusteeship; as if I were placed in full charge of these stones, and must most exactly do, whatever he had ordered.
But when I was told, for the first time, of their value, I found it very hard to trust my ears. Such a great injustice did it seem to me, (who have an ardent love of fairness) that the cleverest man in the world might work, for sixty years—the entire parenthesis of anybody's meaning here—without earning half of the value of one of the eyes of a barbarous idol.
For the great jewel-merchant in Hatton Garden, to whom Sir Roland took me, could scarcely believe his own eyes at first—the day being of London texture—until he put on a strong jet of light (reflected by white mirrors) and took a double magnifier, and went into the very bottom of both stones. Even then, he was almost afraid of his own judgment, and looked at us doubtfully, and shook his head, and even the hand that held such treasures.
"If I did not know you to be Sir Roland Twentifold, and this young gentleman to be a friend of yours, and therefore above all suspicion, it would be my duty to call in the police, and place these in their charge," he said; "as the produce of some tremendous robbery. I have been in the trade, for more than forty years, and Crown jewels, and those of the great R—— family have passed through my hands; but until now, never such a pair of blue diamonds as these are. They must be well known; they must have a great history. I know all the leading gems of Europe; but these are entirely new to me. Is there any reason, why I should not know the story?"
"None whatever," I replied, "if you will receive it first in confidence. And then if you think that my right to them is perfect, I care not how the story spreads."
I told him all I knew; while he listened with deep interest, and so did Sir Roland, who had not heard all till then. I insisted especially upon Uncle William's character, and his great superiority to piracy, or rapine; and enforced the fact that he had not run away with that idol, with any view to its value, but simply as a deed of justice, against a most horrible tribe of cannibals, who had eaten as much as seventeen white men, and had vowed the sole survivor as a sacrifice, to the image with these resplendent eyes. The jeweller's sympathies went warmly with me, and with Uncle Bill in his operations; but he could not help sighing, and I asked him why.
"Because I never had such a chance myself;" he answered, with a candid smile. "And to think of your luck, in escaping all duty! Your Uncle? Why, let me see—three per cent. They could not have been valued for probate, or administration, at less than £150,000; and probably I should have had to appraise them. Since the disappearance of the French blue diamond, there is nothing in that line to come near them. Each of them is worth at least two Hope's; that is, if they cut, as I am sure they will."
"But is there not some ground to fear," I asked, "that when all the facts become known, our Government might insist upon restoring them? They seem to exist for the purpose of surrendering every British right, whether public, or private."
"Undoubtedly they do," he answered sadly; "but your very clever Uncle has provided against that. You can make oath, with clear conscience, that you do not know the name of the place they came from; and if they were there three hundred years, how can they be traced from Borneo? No, you need not have the smallest apprehension about that. They belong to you as absolutely, as the watch now in your pocket. And I congratulate you warmly, upon such a grand possession."
Then I asked him, with some diffidence, what the fee for his opinion was. But he said, "None. Only when you have them cut, I should like it to be done through our house, if you think fit. We are proud to say now that such work can be done in London, as well, or even better than in Amsterdam. It is a new industry, and deserves to be encouraged. And to make a good job of such gems as those, would give a fine impetus to the English art."
This I promised gladly; and after some kind words of caution from him, and of good advice from Roly—who never left anything unhandled—we took a cab direct to "Placid Bower," feeling as important, I do believe, as any two young men in all London.
In the presence of Sir Roland, who dined with us that day, I handed to my mother that one of the two stones, which the jeweller had pointed out, as rather the more precious. But she was so amazed, when we had told her all the story, that it was quite impossible to refrain from laughing.
"You expect me to believe a single word of that!" she cried, having scant faith in youthful verity. "No, no, Master Tommy, I was born before you were. And what would your dear father have said, to hear such things! Your poor Uncle William was a man of such a nature, that if he had twelve pockets, there were twenty-four holes in them. He would have told me, of course, not you; if he had thought them worth speaking of. He had daily opportunity of testing my discretion. Put them under your pillow, Tommy, and don't let me hear any more of them." And she marched away, leaving her blue diamond contemptuously, in the fingerglass.
"Take her at her word, you millionaire of a Tommy;" Sir Roland said to me, when he had shut the door.
And at first I was so touchy, that I felt inclined to do so. But better sense prevailed; and on the following day, I left both the jewels at our banker's, (one in my mother's name, and the other in my own) locked up in a box, with other valuables. And this was a great weight off my mind; and I said to myself, as I came away, "My blue eye shall never see the light again; unless it is to please a pair of lustrous brown ones, a million times more beautiful than any jewel ever seen. But, alas, I shall never have such luck as that!"
Before I had time to fetch many sighs about it, or even to be certain that I need sigh at all, (for Hope has a liking for my heart, because she finds herself so well treated there) behold, there came to pass a thing, that drove me to the very place, whither I was longing for to go.
"This very day," Sir Roland cried, as he jumped off his horse, and left Grip to mind him, "this very day, Mrs. Upmore, if you please, you must send your dear son down to Larkmount-on-the-hill. The powers of evil are conspiring against him; and nothing but his lovely face, and hair, and the way he lets the sunshine come under his heels, will scatter the devices of the democrats. Now, you hate all democracy; you know you do."
"As far as I understand the nature of it, Sir Roland," said my mother, who was proud of accuracy, "I am not much for it, as a question of degree. They sweep away all degrees, or try to do so. And how can Tommy ever be an M.A. then?"
"You are right—too right I am sorry to say;" Sir Roland replied quite gravely, for he always agreed most warmly with ladies, and by so doing generally converted them; "better had he not attempt to be an M.A., with the present Government in power. He will be exposed to the most fearful risk. If the measures now proposed are passed next year, there are very solid grounds for believing that a bonfire will be made of M.A.'s upon Hampstead Heath, to celebrate the Democratic triumph. You saw the Martyr's Memorial at Oxford, when you went to see what Tommy was up to once?"
"Oh yes, Sir Roland, all cut into small ribs, not as if they had caught fire at all, but as clean as the three Holy Children. But what I thought most of, was the College halls, and kitchens, and the places with a sliding shutter, where the butter is buttery, and no best Dorset."
"Not in vain is it that ladies have such powers of observation. But how would you like to see all that swept away, and instead of it, Board-schools, dissenting chapels, co-operative stores, and social science institutes? And unless you send Tommy down with me to Larkmount, that is all we shall have to look forward to. He alone can save the Country, from the vast deluge of anarchy now pouring in."
"Well, I do feel it hard upon me," dear mother answered, "to be losing him again; almost before he has had time to get into gray mourning for his uncle. But his dear father's foremost principle was,—and he was putting by money, to support it—that Tommy should go into Parliament, and speak up courageously for the boiling interest. It is useless to hope that Jack Windsor could do it, even if there were no other children; he can count sixpennyworth of halfpence; but if you ask him why, he stares at you. But Tommy is always as pat with an answer, as a Cheap-jack, or a Prime-minister; and sometimes more than he should say to the mother, that brought him up, and fermented him. And now it seems a Providence, Sir Roland, to speak without offence to any one, that he should be M.A. and M.P., without paying anything at all expensive; and make the one defend the other, against the people his dear father could never put up with, though many times they promised him their custom."
"And never gave it, I'll answer for that," Sir Roland replied most truly. "Tommy, you have heard what your kind mother says; and I hope you will carry out her principles; all of which are of the very highest order."
This settled everything; and next day, my dear mother packed me up, without more than one tear on the top of my shirts, about which she was most particular. But she looked at me very hard, when she had finished; and said—
"Why, mercy on me, child, what a fidget you have become, about your clothes! When you used to go to Oxford, the trouble always was, to get you to look twice into your chest of drawers. But now, one would think, that your own mother knew nothing about what is fit for you to wear! There is something going on down there, I do believe, that you don't think fit to trust me with. I have always understood that those voters of the public are very crafty people, to have to deal with. And they make you promise almost anything they like. Now, don't you go, and promise to marry any of their daughters, without consulting me about it. You are a great catch now, and entitled to look high. Now, bear my words in mind, although I see that you don't mean to tell me anything. You are just like your father, when it comes to that."
For I felt, that I had no right to tell her a word about Laura Twentifold, until I knew more; and it would have been more than I could bear to have the matter lightly spoken of, and constantly referred to, as a common love-affair; while to me it was so deep, and sacred. And I knew, that she would hurry off at once to Mrs. Windsor, and perhaps Mrs. Chumps, to have a good talk over it; which would have been to me a dreadful profanation. So I made her mind comfortable, and then departed.