Simtel MSDOS - Coast to Coast/simteldosarchivecoasttocoast2.iso/litratur/lcl102.zip/LCL06.DOC

Text File | 1993-09-16 | 47KB | 652 lines

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│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                he summer of 1771, the first after                  │
│                 Dorothy went away, was long indeed.                │
│          And tho' Wilmot House was closed, I often rode            │
│          over of a morning when the dew was on the grass.          │
│                                                                    │
│             It cheered me to smoke a pipe with old                 │
│          McAndrews, Mr. Manners's factor, who loved to             │
│          talk of Miss Dorothy.  He had served her                  │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          grandfather, and people said that had it not              │
│          been for McAndrews, the Manners fortune would             │
│          have long since been scattered, for Mr.                   │
│          Marmaduke knew nothing of anything that he                │
│          should.                                                   │
│                                                                    │
│             Since I would not hear from my lady until              │
│          near the first of October, I was fain to be               │
│          content with memories--memories and hard work.            │
│          And with my grandfather ever weaker, I had                │
│          complete charge of the plantation now.                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                e moved into Marlboro' Street the first             │
│                 part of November that year.  But not               │
│          once did Dolly deign to write me.                         │
│                                                                    │
│             It was McAndrews who told me of her safe               │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          arrival.  And in Annapolis rumours were a-flying          │
│          of conquests she had already made.                        │
│                                                                    │
│             I found Betty Tayloe                                   │
│          had a letter, filled with                                 │
│          the fashion in caps and                                   │
│          gowns, and the mention of                                 │
│          more than one noble name.                                 │
│                                                                    │
│             All of this being, for                                 │
│          unknown reasons, sacred,                                  │
│          I was read only part of                                   │
│          the postscript, in which                                  │
│          I figured.                                                │
│                                                                    │
│             "The London Season was                                 │
│          done almost before we                                     │
│          arrived," so it ran.                                      │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          "We had but the Opportunity to pay our Humble             │
│          Respects to their Majesties, and appear at a few          │
│          Drum-Majors and Garden Fêtes.  Now we are off to          │
│          Brighthelmstone, and thence, so Papa says, to             │
│          Spa and the Continent until the end of January.           │
│          I am pining for news of Maryland, dearest Betty.          │
│          Address me in care of Mr. Ripley, Barrister, of           │
│          Lincoln's Inn, and bid Richard Carvel write me."          │
│                                                                    │
│             "Which does not look as if she were coming             │
│          back within the year," said Betty, as she poured          │
│          me a dish of tea.                                         │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                las, no.  But I did not write.  I tried             │
│                 and failed.  And then I tried to forget.           │
│                                                                    │
│             Then came the first assembly of the year.  I           │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          got back from Bentley Manor, where I had been             │
│          visiting the Fotheringays, just in time to call           │
│          for Patty Swain, my mentor's daughter, in                 │
│          Gloucester Street.                                        │
│                                                                    │
│                                 "Have you heard the news           │
│                              from abroad, Richard," she            │
│                              asked, as I handed her into           │
│                              my carriage.                          │
│                                                                    │
│                                 "Never a line," I said.            │
│                                                                    │
│                                 "Pho!  You tell me that!           │
│                              Where have you been hiding?           │
│          Then you shall not have it from me."                      │
│                                                                    │
│             I had little trouble, however, in persuading           │
│          her.  For news was a rare luxury in those days,           │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          and Patty was plainly uncomfortable until she             │
│          should have it out.                                       │
│                                                                    │
│             "I would not give you the vapours tonight for          │
│          all the world, Richard," she said.  "But if you           │
│          must, Dr. Courtenay has had a letter from Mr.             │
│          Manners, and says that Dolly is to marry his              │
│          Grace of Chartersea.  There now!"                         │
│                                                                    │
│             "And I am not greatly disturbed," I replied,           │
│          with a fine, careless air.                                │
│                                                                    │
│             The lanthorn on the carriage was burning               │
│          bright, and I saw Patty look at me and laugh.             │
│                                                                    │
│             "Indeed," said she, "what a sex is that to             │
│          which you belong.  How ready are men to deny us           │
│          at the first whisper!"                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│             I confess I barely heard her.                          │
│                                                                    │
│             "But there is more news, of less import," she          │
│          went on.  "The Thunderer dropped anchor in the            │
│          roads today, and her officers will be at the              │
│          assembly.  Betty tells me there is a young lord           │
│          among them--la! I have clean forgot the string            │
│          of adjectives she used--but she would have me             │
│          know he is as handsome as Apollo, and so dashing          │
│          and diverting as to put Courtenay and all our             │
│          wits to shame.  She even dined with him at the            │
│          Governor's!"                                              │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                he assembly hall was filled when we                 │
│                 arrived, aglow with candles and a-tremble          │
│          with music, the powder already flying, and the            │
│          tables in the recesses at either end surrounded           │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          by those at the cards.                                    │
│                                                                    │
│             The ladies were in                                     │
│          flowered aprons and caps                                  │
│          and brocades and trains,                                  │
│          and the gentlemen in                                      │
│          brilliant coats, trimmed                                  │
│          with lace and stiffened with buckram.                     │
│                                                                    │
│             That night, as Patty had predicted, there was          │
│          a smart sprinkling of uniforms from the                   │
│          Thunderer.  One of those officers held my eye.            │
│                                                                    │
│             He was as well-formed a lad, or man--for he            │
│          was both--as it had ever been my lot to see.  He          │
│          was neither tall nor short, but of a good                 │
│          breadth.  His fair skin was tanned by the                 │
│          weather, and he wore his own wavy hair powdered,          │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          as was just become the fashion, and tied with a           │
│          ribbon behind.                                            │
│                                                                    │
│             "Mercy, Richard, that must be his Lordship!"           │
│          Patty cried.  "Why, his good looks are all Betty          │
│          claimed for them and more!"                               │
│                                                                    │
│             Mr. Lloyd, who was standing by, overheard              │
│          her, and was amused at her downright way.                 │
│                                                                    │
│             "I will fetch him directly, Miss Swain," he            │
│          declared, "as I have done for a dozen ladies              │
│          before you."                                              │
│                                                                    │
│             And fetch him he did.                                  │
│                                                                    │
│             "Miss Swain," he said a moment later, "this            │
│          is my Lord Comyn.  Your Lordship, one of the              │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          boasts of our province."                                  │
│                                                                    │
│             Patty grew almost as red as the scarlet with           │
│          which his Lordship's coat was lined.  She                 │
│          curtseyed, while he made a bow.                           │
│                                                                    │
│             "What!  Another boast, Mr. Lloyd," he said.            │
│          "Miss Swain is the tenth I have met.  But I vow           │
│          they excel as they proceed."                              │
│                                                                    │
│             "Then you must meet no more, my Lord," said            │
│          Patty, laughing at Mr. Lloyd's predicament.               │
│                                                                    │
│             "Egad, then, I will not," replied Lord Comyn.          │
│          "I protest I am satisfied."                               │
│                                                                    │
│             Then I was presented, and he won me on the             │
│          instant with his open smile and warm greeting.            │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│             "My Lord,--" I started to say.                         │
│                                                                    │
│             "Don't 'My Lord' me," he said; "plain 'Jack'           │
│          will do."                                                 │
│                                                                    │
│             There was no                                           │
│          resisting such a man.                                     │
│          Indeed, he took the                                       │
│          fancy of everyone at                                      │
│          the ball.  Though a                                       │
│          viscount in his own                                       │
│          right, he gave                                            │
│          himself not half                                          │
│          the airs over us                                          │
│          provincials as                                            │
│          did many of his                                           │
│          messmates.  Even                                          │
│          Mr. Hammond, who                                          │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          was sour as last year's cider over the doings of          │
│          Parliament, lost his heart, and asked why we              │
│          were not favored in America with more of his              │
│          sort.                                                     │
│                                                                    │
│             Jack contrived to get Patty for supper, and            │
│          I took Betty Tayloe, and we were very merry at            │
│          table together.                                           │
│                                                                    │
│             And his Lordship proved more than able to              │
│          take care of himself, sending my cousin Philip            │
│          about his business when he pulled up a chair              │
│          beside us.                                                │
│                                                                    │
│             Then he drank a health to Miss Swain, and              │
│          another to Miss Tayloe, and was on the point of           │
│          filling a third glass to the ladies of Maryland,          │
│          when he caught himself and brought his hand down          │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          on the table.                                             │
│                                                                    │
│             "Gad's life!" he cried, "but I think she's             │
│          from Maryland, too!  Miss Dorothy Manners!                │
│          Isn't she from Maryland?"                                 │
│                                                                    │
│             "And you know her?" asked Patty, her voice             │
│          quivering with excitement.                                │
│                                                                    │
│             "Why," said his Lordship, laughing, "she               │
│          descended upon Mayfair when they were weary for           │
│          something to worship, and they went mad over her          │
│          in a s'ennight.  For a whole month I was her              │
│          most devoted, as were we all at Almack's.  I              │
│          stayed until the last minute for a word with              │
│          her--which I never got, by the way.  Already she          │
│          has had her choice from a thousand a year up,             │
│          and I tell you our English ladies are green with          │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          envy."                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│             So Dorothy's beauty had taken London by                │
│          storm.  And yet I might have known it!                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                he Thunderer weighed the next week, and             │
│                 Comyn sailed with her.  But not, however,          │
│          before I had seen him again.                              │
│                                                                    │
│             He told me that he was heartily sick of the            │
│          navy, and had entered it only in respect for his          │
│          father, the late Admiral Lord Comyn.  But he was          │
│          sailing for New York, and there he looked for a           │
│          release from his commission, and the chance to            │
│          return to England.                                        │
│                                                                    │
│             And if ever I were to come to London, he               │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          said, I must look him up.  And he swore he                │
│          would put me up at Brooks's Club, and show me a           │
│                                  better time than ever a           │
│                                  Caribbee had who came             │
│                                  home on a visit.                  │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
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│                                                                    │
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│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                _____                               │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                hristmas fell upon Wednesday of that                │
│                 year.  There was to be a ball at Upper             │
│          Marlboro' on the Friday before, to which many of          │
│          us were invited.  And though the morning came in          │
│          with a blinding snowstorm from the north, the             │
│          first of that winter, about ten of the clock we           │
│          set out from Annapolis an exceedingly merry               │
│          party, the ladies in four coaches-and-six, the            │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          gentlemen and their servants riding at the                │
│          wheels.  We laughed and joked despite the storm,          │
│          and exchanged signals with those behind the               │
│          glasses.                                                  │
│                                                                    │
│             But we had scarce got two miles beyond the             │
│          town gate when a messenger overtook us with a             │
│          note for me, writ upon an odd slip of paper,              │
│          and with great apparent hurry:                            │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│            HONOURED SIR,                                           │
│               I have but just come to Annapolis from               │
│            New York, with Instructions to put into                 │
│            your Hands, & no Others, a Message of the               │
│            greatest Import.  Hearing you are but now               │
│            set out for Upper Marlboro, I beg of you                │
│            to return for half an Hour to the Coffee                │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│            House.  By so doing you will be of service              │
│            to a Friend, and confer a Favour upon y'r               │
│            most ob'd't Humble Servant,                             │
│                               SILAS RIDGEWAY                       │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│             Our cavalcade had halted while I read, the             │
│          ladies letting down the glasses and leaning out           │
│          in their concern, lest some trouble had befallen          │
│          me or my grandfather.                                     │
│                                                                    │
│             I answered them, and bade them ride on,                │
│          vowing that I would overtake the coaches before           │
│          they reached the Patuxent.                                │
│                                                                    │
│             Then I turned my horse's head for town, with           │
│          my servant Hugo at my heels.  And as I rode, and          │
│          I rode hard, I pondered over the words of the             │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          letter.  I knew not this Mr. Ridgeway from the            │
│          Lord Mayor of London, but I greatly feared that           │
│          some evil had befallen my grandfather's affairs.          │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                 came to the Coffee House, and throwing my          │
│                  bridle to Hugo, I ran in.  But I found            │
│          Mr. Ridgeway neither in the long room nor in the          │
│          billiard room nor the bar.                                │
│                                                                    │
│             Mr. Claude told me that indeed a man had               │
│          arrived that morning from the North, a spare              │
│          person with dirty hair, in a brown greatcoat              │
│          with a torn cape--and that he had gone forth              │
│          afoot half an hour since.                                 │
│                                                                    │
│             I soon found the lad who had brought me the            │
│          message.  He was in the stables with Hugo, and            │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          he said that he had never seen the stranger               │
│                               until this morning in State          │
│                               Circle, when he had been             │
│                               given a shilling to gallop           │
│                               after me.  And he had never          │
│                               him since.                           │
│                                                                    │
│                                  Neither had anyone else           │
│                               that I spoke to.                     │
│                                                                    │
│                                  So, impatient as I was            │
│                               to be gone, I returned to            │
│                               the Coffee House, thinking           │
│                               every minute the man must            │
│                               return.  And at length,              │
│                               about a quarter after noon,          │
│                               he came in, with Mr. Claude          │
│                               close behind.                        │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│             I liked his looks even less than his                   │
│          description, and the moment I clapped eyes on             │
│          him I knew that no associate of my grandfather            │
│          would ever choose such an agent.                          │
│                                                                    │
│             "This is Mr. Richard Carvel," said Mr.                 │
│          Claude.                                                   │
│                                                                    │
│             The fellow made me a low bow.  "I am sure,             │
│          sir," he began in a low voice, "that I crave              │
│          your forbearance for this prodigious stupid               │
│          mistake I have made."                                     │
│                                                                    │
│             "Mistake!" I cried.  "You mean to say that             │
│          you have brought me back for nothing?"                    │
│                                                                    │
│             The man's eye shifted, and he made me another          │
│          bow.  "I scarce know what to say, Mr. Carvel.             │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          To speak truth, 'twas zeal to my employers, and           │
│          methought to you, that has caused you to retrace          │
│          your steps in this pestiferous storm.                     │
│                                                                    │
│             "I travel," he said with some importance,              │
│          "for Messrs. Rinnell and Runn, Barristers of the          │
│          town of New York, and carry letters to men of             │
│          mark all over these middle and southern                   │
│                        colonies.  And my instructions,             │
│                        sir, were to come to Annapolis              │
│                        with all reasonable speed with              │
│                        this double-sealed enclosure, and           │
│                        to deliver it the very moment I             │
│                        arrived.                                    │
│                                                                    │
│             "I give you my word," he said, "that the               │
│          business was most pressing--and I crave your              │
│          forgiveness, and the pleasure of drinking your            │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          honour's health--as I have just been given to             │
│          understand that Mr. Grafton Carvel is your                │
│          honour's uncle, sir, and not you.  And as he has          │
│          gone to his estate in Kent County, sir, I must            │
│          now follow him."                                          │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                 barely heard the fellow through, and               │
│                  turned on my heel in disgust.  I bade             │
│          Mr. Claude summon my servant.  And in ten                 │
│          minutes we were out of the town again, galloping          │
│          between the nearly filled tracks of the coaches,          │
│          now three hours ahead of us.                              │
│                                                                    │
│             The storm was increasing, and the wind                 │
│          cutting, but I dug into my mount so that poor             │
│          Hugo was hard put to hold the pace.  And tho' he          │
│          had a pint of rum in him, he was near perished            │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                           with the cold.                           │
│                                                                    │
│                              As my anger cooled somewhat,          │
│                           I began to wonder how Mr. Silas          │
│                           Ridgeway, whoever he was, could          │
│                           have been such a simpleton as            │
│                           his story made him out.                  │
│                                                                    │
│                              Indeed, he looked more the            │
│                           rogue than the ass; nor could            │
│                           I conceive how reliable                  │
│                           barristers would hire such a             │
│                           man.  I wished heartily that             │
│                           I had questioned him further,            │
│                           and I was once close to a full           │
│                           mind for going back.  But the            │
│          thought of the pleasures at Upper Marlboro' and           │
│          the hope of overtaking the party at Mr. Dorsey's          │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          place over the Patuxent, where they looked to             │
│          dine, decided me in pushing on.                           │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                ______                              │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                nd thus we came to South River, with the            │
│                 snow so thick that we could scarce see             │
│          ten yards in front of us.                                 │
│                                                                    │
│             Ahead, the road wound up the hill around               │
│          the end of Mr. Wiley's plantation and plunged             │
│          shortly into woods gray and cold.  At their               │
│          skirt a trail branched off which led to Mr.               │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          Wiley's warehouses, on the water's edge a mile            │
│          or so below.  And I marked that this trail was            │
│                                                freshly             │
│                                                trodden.            │
│                                                This                │
│                                                surprised           │
│                                                me, for it          │
│                                                was used            │
│                                                only in             │
│                                                the early           │
│                                                autumn to           │
│                                                connect             │
│                                                with some           │
│                                                fields              │
│                                                beyond the          │
│                                                hill.               │
│                                                                    │
│             Just then I heard a sharp cry from Hugo, who           │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          was ten paces behind, and I pulled short.                 │
│                                                                    │
│             "Marse Dick!" he shouted, "we're goin' to be           │
│          robbed!"  And he pointed to the footprints in             │
│          the snow.                                                 │
│                                                                    │
│             "Nonsense!" I said.  "Mr. Wiley is making his          │
│          lazy beggars cut wood against Christmas."                 │
│                                                                    │
│             When in my temper the poor fellow had more             │
│          fear of me than aught else, and he closed up to           │
│          my horse's flank, glancing apprehensively to the          │
│          right and left.  We went on at a brisk trot, but          │
│          then there was a sudden gust of wind, and the             │
│          horses' ears pointed forward.                             │
│                                                                    │
│             I loosed the lower frogs of my coat, for my            │
│          sword was buckled beneath, and I had but reached          │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          it when Hugo cried out, "God, Marse Dick, run             │
│          for your life!"                                           │
│                                                                    │
│             I caught a glimpse of him flying down the              │
│          road.  Then a shot rang out, and the horse                │
│          reared high.                                              │
│                                                                    │
│             A rough brute of a fellow                              │
│          appeared, clinging to her                                 │
│          bridle, and then the horse                                │
│          was shot from under me, and                               │
│          we all fell heavily together.                             │
│                                                                    │
│             I was scarcely up again, my                            │
│          sword drawn, when villains were pressing me from          │
│          all sides.                                                │
│                                                                    │
│             I remember I spit one, and heard a great oath          │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│          when I was felled from behind with a crushing             │
│          blow.                                                     │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │
│                                                                    │