CHAPTER V.
Mr Percy Marvale, in the mean time, had not been idle at Howkey. He had established himself in the house, in spite of all the sour looks and short answers Mr Smith could bestow on him. All his attempts at a lodgment were aided by the invitations of Sibylla, whether conveyed in words or in untranslatable smiles and glances. An instantaneous friendship was established between him and the younger branches; and from some of the children, who came down to see their papa, and congratulate him on his return, he picked out a great mass of information about the affairs of the nursery and school-room. There certainly was as a governess—young, pretty, and very shy—exactly such as he supposed Miss Elstree would be; and his hopes were further raised by learning that her name was Alice. His next object was to see her—to speak to her, if possible—and satisfy himself of her identity; for, as the information contained in Frank's letter did not emanate from himself, and he had not even been admitted by his principal to a knowledge of its contents, he was not inclined to believe that the discovery could be made without him.
By dint of remaining at Howkey till it was impossible for Old Smith to avoid asking the friend of his preserver to stay all night, he managed to make good his quarters on the ground of his operations, and resolved to commence proceedings as early as possible in the morning. Sibylla lay awake half the night, revolving all the strange speeches he had made her—his allusions to the hidden treasure in the house—the lost star— the incognito goddess—and tracing in all his fine expressions one paramount idea of his anxiety to make himself master of a perfect paragon of beauty and romance, she could not avoid coming to the conclusion, that these were all metaphorical declarations of attachment to herself. And, on the following day, her manner had derived so much empressement from these cogitations, that all the efforts of Monimia on the imperturbable Frank were cast into the shade by the extraordinary evolutions of the sentimental Sibylla.
"Gads!" said Mr Percy Marvale to himself, "this beats the Surrey all to sticks. He must be shockingly rich"—he thought, looking round the splendidly furnished drawing-room; "I'll see if I can't do a little business on my own account, as well as Mr Edwards's."
"You've heard what I have been asking you, madam, about an undiscovered jewel in this elegant abode? Pity it should be left to the dimness of the rural shades!"
"Alas!" said Sibylla, casting down her eyes in modest embarrassment, "it is little fitted to meet the eye of the world."
"It needs a fresh setting, that's all; and they say there's an exquisite silversmith on the Scottish border. The railway brings him within twenty hours."
A few arguments pro and con—a few blushes—a few quotations from the love scenes of the Surrey, and it was finally arranged. At three, they were to meet at the foot of the lane, where a chaise was to be in waiting; and Frank Edwards was left by his faithless assistant to look after Alice Elstree for himself.
The village of Wibbleton had not slept all night for thinking of the new inhabitant of the cottage ornée; and the landlord of the Rose and Crown had not been backward in singing the praises of his generosity and riches.
"Them Chobbs has cotch another pigeon," said the hostler to the boots; "and a rare good thing they makes of that 'ere old house. The last tenant paid 'em two years's rent in forfeit; and this 'un will do the same."
"They are the bullyingest, meanestest, lyingest fellies as ever I heard of," replied the boots. "Tom Chobbs, the eldest one, owes me no end of money; but there aint no use asking it, for the whole kit on them—the lawyer, the doctor, and the old corporal, his stepfather—would all swear they had seen him pay it."
"They'll be found out some day, and the village cleared of them," replied the hostler; "and if they're in want of rope, I'll not grudge ere a halter in the stable."
"But there he goes, poor young gentleman!—they'll not leave him a farden of money if they get him into their clutches."
This pitying observation was made as Frank Edwards crossed over from the hotel, and knocked at the door of the great house, to pay his respects to The Chobb. Before he left the hotel, the landlord, with many apologies, had presented his bill for the dinner of the day before, which the military gentleman had forgotten to discharge. The door was opened, and he was shown into a parlour on the ground floor, and told to sit down till his arrival was announced.
"Maister's just a-coming, sir," said the slipshod maid, again putting her head into the parlour where Frank was sitting; and in a few minutes The Chobb, the general, the lawyer, and the medical man, walked into the room.
"I must say, sir," said The Chobb, touching his hat slightly, which he kept on while he spoke, "that this is rather extraordinary conduct, and needs explanation."
"What do you allude to, sir? You asked me to call, and I now wait on you."
"But you have not apologised, sir, nor rectified the mistake, if it was a mistake," he added, looking for support to the general.
"If it was a mistake!" repeated that distinguished commander, looking very stiff and solemn.
"Appearances are against it," chimed in the lawyer.
"What is it all about, gentlemen?" enquired Frank Edwards, biting his lip.
"All about this, sir," replied The Chobb. "I am a gentleman, and I was in hopes any tenant of mine would be a gentleman also; but when you descend to such conduct as, in presence of these parties, you did last night—there is no excuse for it—even the state of intoxication you were in is no excuse—no excuse for it at all."
"No excuse for it at all!" repeated the general, looking stately and solemn, as before.
"Perhaps the gentleman did it for a joke, and will make it good," suggested the benevolent lawyer.
"Oh, that's a different matter!" said The Chobb, slightly relaxing; "and if the gentleman withdraws it, and replaces the sum correctly, I am the last man in the world to find fault with a harmless pleasantry."
"As I don't know what you mean,"—Frank began.
"Oh, let me explain it!" interposed the general. "You offered last night to pay my step-son, Colonel Chobb, a month's rent of your cottage orné in advance. He agreed to accept it, and the ten-pound note with which you discharged the amount turns out to be a flash note on the Bank of Fashion. These are the simple facts. I regret to state that appearances are against you."
"We do not know you, you will observe," said the lawyer. "And my brother, Colonel Chobb, is always a great deal too careless in money matters. He should not have let you the cottage without a reference."
"You also raised a slight suspicion by your attempt at a wrangle on the guinea stakes," added the medical man.
"I am bound to say," observed the general, "that it would have an awkward appearance in a court of justice."
"But"—
"Oh, you need not deny it!" said The Chobb. "I hate roundabout stories. I am a gentleman. Was it a joke or not? Will you pay me a good ten-pound note or not?"
"Where is this note?"
"It is in the hands of my children's governess. I have lodged it with her for security, and gain her evidence if, unfortunately, the business goes further."
"Gentlemen," said Frank, "before I answer you, I must insist on seeing the lady, and the note exactly in the state it now is."
"Certainly! nothing can be fairer," said the general. "I will conduct you to the school-room at once."
"I should like, if you please, to be paid for these documents first," said the lawyer. "The agreement stamp is very high."
"And, as short accounts make long friendships," said the medical man, "I should like to receive my fee for attendance."
"What attendance, sir?" said Frank, whom even the approaching interview with Alice could scarcely keep cool.
"I visited you professionally at the inn yesterday, sir, and sat by your side till nearly twelve o'clock. Time with a medical man is money; and I think my demand moderate at five guineas."
"Very moderate, indeed!" said The Chobb. "Sir Henry Halford would have charged you five times the sum for half the time."
"But I never called this skilful physician in," said Frank, amazed in spite of himself.
"Didn't you? But here comes General Hosham. General Hosham, did this gentleman call me in professionally yesterday?"
"Most assuredly he did," replied the general. "I have a perfect recollection of the fact; but perhaps he may confuse it with something else. I thought I heard the name of Sir Henry Halford. He did not call him in. If I might advise, as an older man than any of you, and a mutual friend of both parties, I would suggest that this gentleman had better at once pay my step-son, George—Dr Chobb—five pounds—pounds instead of guineas—a compromise is always best between friends. Pay him the money, my good sir, and come up with me to the school-room."
A five-pound note instantly covered the doctor's face with smiles, and two tens had the same effect upon the lawyer's.
"Now, sir," he said, "I go with you;" and, preceded by the general, he went up a narrow flight of stairs.
"The French and Italian lessons are over," said the general, "and the music is not yet begun." He opened a door, and, at the farther end of the room, a young woman, with extraordinary breadth of back, was busy over a large washing-tub, in the act of wringing a child's shirt. Five or six dirty children were sewing and knitting, in different parts of the room, and Frank looked round, enquiringly, to discover Alice Elstree.
"This is the young lady that keeps the note," said the general. "Miss
M'Screigh, you have the evidence?"
"Tiel a toot!" said the lady thus appealed to in a broad Highland accent, turning round from her labours, and displaying a countenance as strongly redolent of Aberdeenshire as her tongue.
But Frank would wait for no further parley. He passed rapidly down stairs, but was waylaid at the foot of them by The Chobb in person. Frank was endowed with prodigious strength, and favoured the head of the distinguished family with a dig in the ribs, that left him in the condition of an exhausted air receiver.
"That's enough—assault and battery," said the philanthropist; "swinging damages at the next assizes, and a comfortable bill of costs."
But Frank, regardless of Chobbs and assizes, pursued his way. He kicked the crazy door open, and was rejoiced to find himself in the open air. His progress through the village had not been unobserved by other eyes besides those of the hostler and boots of the Rose and Crown. There was a low thatched cottage on the opposite side of the road from the residence of The Chobb; clusters of white roses clambered in all directions over the wall, and the little lawn in front was tastefully laid out, and the turf and shrubs kept in perfect order. Along the gravel walks of this little lawn, walked slowly, as if in infirm health, a middle-aged lady, leaning for support on the arm of a tall and graceful girl; and ever and anon she turned on her companion's suffering face a look of such love and sweetness—it was sure to create a smile even on the wan lips of the invalid. That girl's eyes had rested on Frank Edwards as he passed—a red flush had crossed her brow—a whiteness, as of death, had come upon her cheek—and, leading the elder lady with tottering steps to the garden bower, she had sat down beside her, and covered her face with her hands, and burst into tears.
At the moment Frank Edwards emerged into the road, he was nearly jammed against the railings in front of the thatched cottage, by the rapid approach of a post-chaise. While he looked in at the window, the wheel dipped into a rut, the axle instantaneously broke, and the body of the carriage bumped upon the ground. In an instant he had secured the horses, and the Chobb family, rushing out, advanced to the door of the vehicle. With some difficulty the passengers were extracted, and consisted of a tall dark-complexioned gentleman, with mustaches, looking as sheepish and uncomfortable as possible.
"What! Marvale!" exclaimed Frank, "What has brought you here? and who is the lady beside you?"
"Hush, my dear sir, she's in a faint."
"Why, William," cried the philanthropic attorney, "do you pretend not to know us?"
"Ah! how d'ye do, George—ha'n't seen you a long time," said Percy
Marvale, looking contemptuously at the lawyer.
"You look very grand with these mustaches," continued George; "your own father would scarcely know you."
"Is the old snob alive, then?" enquired the dutiful son.
"To be sure, and here he's coming. General Hosham, here's Bill come back again."
"Has he brought back the watch and spoons?" enquired the affectionate father; "if not, I'll have him up for the theft."
The fainting lady had been carried in the mean time by the villagers into the thatched cottage, and into it Frank also proceeded to watch over her recovery. Two ladies were bending over her; and, on Frank's approach, the elder one looked up. The younger one also saw him. There was nothing more needed than that look. Frank took a hand of each. There was an end of his uncertainties. It was Alice Elstree and her mother.
While the recognitions were going on outside, and Sibylla was slowly recovering, a phaeton had driven rapidly up, and Old Smith and his son had jumped out, and laid violent hands on Percy Marvale's collar.
"You villain, you ruffian, you swindler!" began my old friend out of breath.
"Actionable!" observed the philanthropic attorney. "I'll take down his words."
"Where is my daughter, sir?"
"I don't know. I—that is—my friend Edwards"—
"What has he to do with it, sir?"
"I should say, sir," said General Hosham, advancing in a most polite manner, and lifting his hat—"that it is probable the person alluded to by my son is guilty of the crime, whatever it is you now charge my boy with. The person has gone into that cottage, and you can arrest him on the spot."
"Oho!" said Mr Smith, "I think I recollect your faces, my fine fellows. Haven't we met at the quarter sessions? Was not there some rumour about your extorting money from a tenant a year or two ago, by threats of accusing him of passing a forged note?"
The general made a stately bow, and The Chobb himself, who had joined the crowd, felt crestfallen, and limped back again into the house.
In the cottage all things proceeded favourably. Frank Edwards, with an adroitness that would have done honour to the hero of one of Percy Marvale's melodramas, assured the angry father that Sibylla had come, at his special request, to act as companion to his bride, and consult as to the preparations for the approaching wedding. And on that same evening Sibylla and Frank accompanied Mrs Elstree and her daughter to my house, where it was arranged they were to remain for three weeks or a month, till the ceremony took place.