The Foundling (37 page)

"It is not all the same to me," had said the Duke, very gently indeed.

There was much that the landlord had meant to say, the chief item of information being that he would not harbour any of the Duke's party in his house another night, but the air of hauteur which this rather insignificant young man could upon occasion assume made him uneasy, and he decided to leave it unsaid. He told his indignant wife that he hadn't dealt with the Quality for twenty-five years without knowing when a high-up gentleman had entered his inn. "He can call himself a tutor if he so chooses," he said, nodding darkly, "but I never saw a tutor that wore a coat like that of his, nor one that looked at you as though you was two-penn'orth of nothing." He added philosophically: "Besides, he ain't staying more than one night."

So the Duke, who had now formed the intention of boarding the London stage on the following day, was allowed to remain at the Sun for one more night. Tom, delighted by this change of plan, promised very handsomely to behave with the utmost propriety, and at once began to make interest with his protector for visits to Astley's Amphitheatre, the Royal Exchange, and other such places of interest. He was just confiding to him his burning desire to witness a bout of fisticuffs at the Fives Court, and the Wax Effigies at Madame Tussaud's, when the door opened, and Belinda tripped into the parlour, carrying her bandboxes, and looking as unruffled as she was beautiful. She smiled blindingly upon the Duke, and said: "Oh, you are come back, sir! I am so very glad to see you again! Oh, Tom, I quite thought you had gone to Newgate!"

"Much you would have cared!" growled Tom, by no means gratified by her sudden appearance.

"Oh, no, but I am so pleased Mr. Rufford is here! It is beyond anything great! How do you do, sir?"

He had risen from his chair, staring at her. "Belinda!" he exclaimed.

She untied the strings of her bonnet and cast it on to a chair. "We have been in such a pickle!" she informed him. "Only fancy! Tom was arrested for a highwayman, sir!"

"Belinda, what became of you?" demanded the Duke.

"Oh, I was never so taken-in!" she informed him mournfully. "For when you went away, sir, and Tom was put in prison, I didn't know what I should do. And I must tell you that they were all in an uproar here, so that it was excessively uncomfortable. And the landlord was so uncivil to me this morning that there was no bearing it! So I went out after breakfast, to look at the shops—they are the shabbiest in the world, I am sure! I saw a quiz of a hat, and was in whoops! And just as I was looking into a window where there were all manner of trinkets, but none of them in the least pretty, a very kind gentleman came up to me, and made me a bow."

"Mr. Clitheroe?" interpolated the Duke.

She laughed. "Good gracious, no, sir! I don't know what his name was, but he was quite a young gentleman, and modish, too, and handsome! And he asked me if I would like to have a ring to put on my finger."

"And what," asked the Duke, with deep misgiving, "did you reply to that?"

"I said I should like it above all things," said Belinda innocently.

"Lord, I think girls are the stupidest things!" said Tom, in disgust. "If he had asked me, I would have told him that I would rather have a pair of stilts, or something jolly like that! Oh, Mr. Rufford, there was a man at the Fair, walking on a pair so high that I daresay he could have looked into all the upper windows in the town! If I had a pair like that, I could have such larks, and frighten all the old ladies in their beds by looking in at them! Will you buy me a pair, sir? I daresay there may be a shop which sells them, and I know I could learn to walk on them in a trice."

"No, I will not," answered the Duke, not mincing matters. "Belinda, didn't I tell you you must not speak to strange men?"

"Not even when they offer to buy me a ring?" she asked.

"Least of all when they offer to buy you a ring!"

"But how shall I ever have a ring, or a silk dress, if I must not speak to any gentlemen?" she asked reasonably.

"If only you will be good, and mind what I tell you," said the Duke, "perhaps you shall have a silk dress!"

Belinda sighed. "That is what Uncle Swithin said, only he never gave it to me," she observed.

"Well, never mind that now! What happened when you told this buck that you would like a ring?"

"Oh, it was so sad!" she exclaimed, her eyes filling with tears. "He said we should go into the shop, and he offered his arm, and I am sure I had not so much as noticed Mr. Clitheroe, for why should I?"

"Wait a minute!" begged the Duke. "What has Mr. Clitheroe to do with all this? When did you meet him?"

"Why, just then, sir! He was standing on the other side of the road, though I did not notice him, for he is quite old, yon know, and not at all handsome. He came smash up to us, and began to abuse the kind gentleman, and he said I should not go with him. But I would have gone with him, only that he went away, as red as fire! I thought it was so poor-spirited of him! And then Mr. Clitheroe asked me where I lived, and how old was I, and all manner of things."

"Well, I call that a great piece of impudence!" declared Tom. "You should have sent him to the deuce, only I dare swear you did not!"

"Oh, no, how could I? I told him that I did not live anywhere, but that I was staying with you, sir."

She smiled enchantingly at the Duke as she spoke, but although he found it impossible to be angry with anyone so lovely or so ingenuous, he was easily able to refrain from returning the smile. He said, in a tone of resignation: "Did you tell him that I was a very kind gentleman, Belinda?"

She nodded, and her curls danced. "Of course I did!" she assured him. "And he said that he would like to meet you."

The Duke shuddered. "I may readily believe it! I trust he may never have his wish granted!"

"Oh, no! he is a dead bore!" agreed Belinda. "Besides, I told him that you had gone away and left me, so he knew he could not meet you."

The Duke sank his head in his hands. "Belinda, Belinda, if I do not speedily contrive to hand you into safe keeping I foresee that there will be scarce a town in England where I shall dare to show my face again! So you told him I had deserted you! And what then?"

"Then he said he should take me home with him, and give me something better than a silk dress, or a ring to put on my finger. And he said his sister would be very glad to take care of me. So I came back with him here, sir, and fetched my bandboxes, and he took me to his home. But I don't think Miss Clitheroe was glad at all, for she seemed very cross to me. However, she said I might stay, and she gave me some fruit to eat, and a handkerchief to hem, and she did say that I set neat stitches. But I do not care for hemming, so when Mr. Clitheroe came in I asked him what it was that he would give me, because I would like very much to have it. And I quite thought it would be something splendid, sir, for he said it was better than a silk dress! Only it was nothing but a take-in after all! He just gave me a Bible!"

Her face of chagrin was ludicrous enough to make her harassed protector burst out laughing. "My poor Belinda!"

"Well, I do think it was a great deal too bad of him, sir! The shabbiest trick! So I said I had a Bible already, and then I thought very likely you would have returned, so I would come back here to find you. And would you believe it, they would not let me! Oh, they did prose so!"

"But what did they want you to do instead?" demanded Tom.

"I don't know, for I didn't listen above half. I quite saw that I must run away, and I made up my mind to do so when they should have gone to bed, only by the luckiest chance they went off to a dinner-party—or was it a prayer-meeting? It was some such thing, but I wasn't attending particularly. So I didn't say anything, but only smiled, and made them think I would stay, and as soon as they were gone from the house, I slipped out when the servants were not by, and came back to the inn. And, if you please, sir, I have not had any dinner."

"Ring the bell, Tom, and bespeak dinner for her," said the Duke. "I am going to find a coach time-table!"

"Oh, are we leaving now?" asked Belinda, brightening.

"No, tomorrow, you stupid thing!" said Tom.

"Immediately!" said the Duke, walking towards the door.

"What?" cried Tom. "Oh, famous, sir! Where do we go?"

"Beyond Mr. Clitheroe's reach!" replied the Duke. "Constables and magistrates I can deal with to admiration, but not—
not
, I know well, Mr. Clitheroe!"

He returned to his charges half an hour later with the information that they were bound for Aylesbury in a hired chaise. Belinda, who was making an excellent meal, accepted this without question, but Tom thought poorly of it, and demanded to be told why they must go to such a stuffy place.

"Because I find that there is a coach which runs from Aylesbury to Reading," replied the Duke. "We may board that tomorrow, and from Reading we can take the London stage to Bath."

"It would be more genteel to go in a post-chaise," said Belinda wistfully.

"It would not only be more genteel, it would be by far more comfortable," agreed the Duke. "It would also be more expensive, and I have been drawing the bustle to such purpose this day that my pockets will soon be to let."

"Well, I would rather go on the stage!" said Tom, his eyes sparkling. "I shall ride on the roof, and make the coachman give me the reins! I have always wanted to tool a coach! I shall gallop along at such a rate! What a jest it would be if we overturned!"

This agreeable prospect made both him and Belinda laugh heartily. The Duke sent him off to pack up his belongings, devoutly trusting that there did not exist a coachman mad enough to entrust the ribbons to him.

Chapter 19

While these stirring events were taking place in Hitchin, Mr. Liversedge was still knocking abortively on Captain Ware's door. He gained admittance to the chambers at about the time the Duke and his two charges set out from the Sun Inn in a hired chaise, with Aylesbury for their destination.

The gin with which Wragby had so lavishly supplied him made Mr. Liversedge feel very unwell; and a night spent upon the kitchen floor had given him, he complained, a stiff neck. An assurance from Wragby that a halter would soon cure this was received by him in high dudgeon. He spoke with great dignity for several minutes, but to deaf ears. Wragby recommended him to shut his mummer, and to make haste and shave himself, since the Captain would certainly refuse to take such an oyster-faced rogue up beside him in his curricle. Mr. Liversedge said that he had no desire to be taken up beside the Captain. "In fact," he added austerely, "the less I see of a young man whom I find unsympathetic in the extreme the better pleased I shall be!"

"You stow your whids, and do what I tell you!" said Wragby.

"It is a marvel to me," said Mr. Liversedge, picking up the razor, and looking at it contemptuously, "that any gentleman should employ such a vulgar fellow as you."

"And don't give me no saucy answers!" said Wragby.

By the time the Captain was ready to set forward on the journey, Mr. Liversedge had not only shaved, but had imbibed a cup of strong coffee, which revived him sufficiently to enable him to greet his host with creditable urbanity. His optimistic temperament led him to busy himself with the forming of various schemes for turning the present distressing state of affairs to good account rather than to waste time kicking against the pricks. The day was fine, and the cool air refreshing to him. It was not long before he was complimenting Captain Ware upon his horses, and his skill in handling the ribbons.

"Devilish obliging of you to say so!" said Gideon sardonically. "You are no doubt a judge!"

"Yes," said Mr. Liversedge, tucking the rug more securely round his legs. "I fancy I may be held to be so, sir. You must know that many years ago I was employed in the stables of a notable whip—quite a nonesuch, indeed! A menial position, and one from which I swiftly rose, but it enabled me to judge a horse, and a whip."

Gideon was amused, "A groom, were you? And what then?"

"In course of time, sir, I attained what was then the sum of my ambition. I became a gentleman's gentleman."

Gideon glanced curiously at him. "Why did you abandon that profession?"

Mr. Liversedge described one of his airy gestures. "Various causes, sir, various causes! You may say that it did not afford enough scope for a man of my vision. My ideas have ever been large, and my genius is for the cards and the bones. In fact, had I not suffered certain ill-merited reverses I should not today be in your company, for I assure you that the business in which I have lately been engaged is wholly alien to my tastes—quite repugnant to me, indeed! But necessity, my dear sir, takes no account of sensibility!"