Whether the mention of such an excursion had a singular effect on him, or whether he was really in a bad state of health, it is certain that Mr. Guyon felt so flushed and strangled at this moment that he reeled to a chair, and undid his very elaborate blue bird's-eye cravat, and loosened his shirt-collar, and sat puffing and panting for a few minutes, when he rang the bell, and ordered the pallid footman to bring him some brandy and soda-water. He had taken a few sips of this beverage, and was beginning to feel a little more himself, when a phaeton drawn by a splendid pair of chestnuts came dashing up the street, and stopped at Mr. Guyon's door. The natty groom sprung to the horses' heads; the gentleman who had been driving descended, and gave a tremendous rap; and presently the pallid footman announced "Mr. Stallbrass!"
Mr. Stallbrass, of Wood Street, Cheapside, and the Willows, Tulse Hill, was, at the former address, a Manchester warehouseman in a very large way of business; at the latter, a fine old English gentleman of large means and decidedly sporting tendencies. Cramped in early youth by the objectionable attentions of a father of commercial habits and evangelical tendencies; married when very young to the daughter of his objectionable father's senior partner, a pale little woman with drab hair and a weak spine; condemned thus to lead his City life amidst long flat pasteboard boxes, and his home life amidst short round Claphamite divines, Mr. Stallbrass--thanks to his glorious constitution--had had the good fortune to outlive both his father and his wife, to inherit both their fortunes, and to be able to indulge his peculiar tastes in the freest and the easiest manner. Although he still was "the firm" in Wood Street, he attended to business but rarely. How could he, indeed, when he never was absent from any of the great race-meetings in the summer, from any steeplechase or "pugilistic revival" in the winter? To know sporting-men of all kinds, from the highest to the lowest; to call them by their Christian or nick-names; to get the office on all sporting events; have his name mentioned in Bell as "that real Corinthian," or as "amongst the élite present we observed--;" to have the red-jacketed touts touch their hats to him,--these were the delights of life which Mr. Stallbrass coveted, and which he now enjoyed. He had made Mr. Guyon's acquaintance in some fast society, and had been greatly impressed by the old gentleman's manners and tone, which he afterwards affirmed to be "the real thing, and no flies;" and he determined to cultivate his acquaintance, though he saw at a glance all the flaws of his character. For Mr. Stallbrass was, as he himself expressed it, "a long way off a fool," and saw in an instant that any intimacy between him and Guyon could only be carried on by his opening his purse-strings, and consenting to pay, as Telemachus usually pays, for Mentor's countenance and counsel. But in this case Telemachus, though not a youth, was decidedly an aspiring man, aspiring to be one of a good set, and hitherto he had soared no higher than the outside ring of the fast stockbrokers. Old Guyon undoubtedly went into good society of its kind, and could, if he chose, pull Stallbrass up with him. So Stallbrass's house, horses, traps, and hospitality, were very much at Mr. Guyon's service; and there was only one thing appertaining to Mr. Stallbrass which the old campaigner was warned off, and that was Mr. Stallbrass's purse. Of course old Guyon had made the assault in that quarter at a very early period of their acquaintance, but had been met with such a straightforward rebuff, delivered without the slightest possibility of being misunderstood, that he had from, that time contented himself with his right of "free warren" over the appanages above mentioned, and never renewed the attempt.
But in every other way Mr. Stallbrass surrendered to the superior abilities, and bowed down before the more exalted position, of his friend. See him now as he comes into the room--a tall, big, burly man, with a heavy grizzled beard and moustache, light-drab overcoat, cutaway undercoat, blue bird's-eye cravat with a big dog's-tooth set in gold for a pin, long waistcoat, horsey tight trousers, and gaiter-boots. Mr. Stallbrass has a big white hand, on the little finger of which he wears a big horseshoe ring; a keen sunken eye, a pair of bushy brows, a swaggering gait, and a loud strident voice. In Mr. Guyon's house, in Mr. Guyon's company, the swagger is left out of the gait, and the tones of the voice are modulated. "Chesterfield"--that is the playful name by which Mr. Stallbrass passes amongst his friends on the Stock Exchange--"Chesterfield," they say, "tears and ramps awfully this side Temple Bar; but old Guyon could drive him in a basket fourwheeler!"
Mr. Stallbrass, following close upon the announcement of the pallid footman, found Mr. Guyon finishing the soda-water and brandy, and stopped in the doorway, shaking his uplifted forefinger.
"Hallo, my noble Captain! Comed and cotched you in the werry act, as the man says, did I? That won't do, Major--that tells all sorts of stories of last night's hanky-panky, that does!"
"Ah, Stallbrass, my good fellow!" said Mr. Guyon, wiping his lips and rising much refreshed, but still rather tottery; "glad to see you, doosid glad. You're punctual as to--as to--you know!"
"I know! Lord bless you, I always know, as the man says. We're goln' to have a fine day after all."
"I hope so; it looks like it. Make all the difference to us, eh?"
"Well, yes. If there was to be much more mud, it would tell against Devilskin, it would! He's a light 'oss, you know, though a rare plucked 'un; but mud's the devil. Get into one of those sticky quagmires, and where are you? as the man says."
"Did you hear any thing after I left last night?"