‘’Rack punch!’ cried Mr. Jukes furiously. ‘I haven’t tasted a drop! You call him Mr. Willars, ma’am,’ he added to Mrs. Nettleship. ‘He’s deceiving you, ma’am. He’s not Mr. Willars—he’s Mr. Willars’s gentleman—his valet.’
‘A truce to this folly, you superannuated old dolt!’ cried Mr. Cripps, raising his cane, ‘or I’ll chastise you.’
‘Chastise me!’ exclaimed the butler angrily. ‘Touch me, if you dare, rascal; Crackenthorpe, Crackenthorpe—you’ll certainly be hanged.’
‘Let him alone, Jukes,’ interposed Abel. ‘He’ll meet his master at the corner of the walk, and I should like to see how he’ll carry it off.’
Taking advantage of the interference, Mr. Cripps passed on with his inamorata, who was as anxious to escape from the scene as himself; while Abel and Mr. Jukes followed them at a short distance. It fell out as Abel had foreseen. As Mr. Cripps issued into the broad walk, right before him, and not many yards off, were his master and Lady Brabazon, together with the rest of the party. If the valet ever had need of assurance, it was now. But though ready to sink into the earth, he was true to himself, and exhibited no outward signs of discomposure. On the contrary, he drew forth his snuff-box, took a pinch in his airiest manner, and said to Mrs. Nettleship—‘There’s Lady Brabazon—accounted one of the finest women of the day, but upon my soul, she’s not to be compared with you.’ With this he made a profound salutation to Lady Brabazon, who looked petrified with astonishment, and kissed his hand to Trussell, who was ready to die with laughing. As to the beau, he grasped his cane in a manner that plainly betokened his intention of laying it across his valet’s shoulders. But the latter, divining his intention, and seeing that nothing but a bold manoeuvre could now save him, strutted up to him, and said in a loud voice—‘Ah! my dear fellow—how d’ye do?—glad to see you—plenty of company’—adding, in a lower tone—‘for Heaven’s sake, sir, don’t mar my fortune. I’m about to be married to that lady, sir—large fortune, sir—to-day will decide it—‘pon rep!’
Mr. Villiers regarded him in astonishment, mixed with some little admiration; and at length his good-nature got the better of his anger. ‘Well, get you gone instantly,’ he said; ‘if I find you in the gardens in ten minutes from this time, you shall have the caning you merit.’
‘Good day, sir,’ replied Mr. Cripps—‘I’ll not forget the favour.’ And with a profound bow, he moved away with the widow.
‘And so you have let him off?’ cried Lady Brabazon, in amazement.
‘Upon my soul, I couldn’t help it,’ replied the beau. ‘I’ve a fellow-feeling for the rascal—and, egad, all things considered, he has played his part so uncommonly well, that I hope he may be successful.’
DAY MASQUERADE IN RANELAGH GARDENS