Faithful Margaret: A Novel
unjust--says:
"'Better keep out of sight for a while, Calembours; I can't be seen with
a notorious harpy like you just now; the circle I'm getting into won't
care for a dirty little Frenchman. They're exclusive.'
"'_Merci_, Monsieur Mortlake,' I return, 'Napoleon the brave thought
Calembours worthy of the Legion of Honor; but perhaps your circle are
right, and are exclusive of the nobility.'
"We part good friends, though, for are we not necessary to each other?
He goes his way and I go mine, but I set myself to know the reason why.
"I discover my Mortlake hovering about a great flame in the military
world--a Captain St. Udo Brand, of the Coldstream Guards, who has great
expectation of a wealthy grandmother dying and leaving him the sole
heir.
"My Mortlake wheels nearer and nearer this mighty captain, learns all he
can about his history and habits, and becomes an acquaintance of his.
What he intends to do with him I cannot tell; for he cannot pigeon _him_
as he pigeons weaker men. My faith, he dares not.
"Captain Brand treats the gambling Mortlake with that lofty insolence
which great men show to little men; he is indifferent to him, he forgets
his presence, he turns the back upon him at the mess-table when any of
the softer officers bring him there.
"My Mortlake does not like it; he grows very black when the captain is
not by, and he swears a great deal against him.
"I look on and laugh; it is a gay _comedie_ for me. I clasp the hands
and cry _encore_!
"Presently the great captain's grandmama's malady grows worse; messages
continue to arrive, and he must go to Surrey.
"Monsieur Mortlake comes to me with his curious green eyes gleaming.
"'Come Calembours,' he says; 'we may as well take a run down to Surrey
to see this wonderful castle.'
"'So be it!' I cry once more, and we go.
"We are living at a hotel in Regis when the sullen captain arrives; he
is accosted to his surprise by Monsieur Mortlake, who is of course quite
astonished to meet him there.
"Captain Brand swears a good deal at the idea of going down to that
'infernal dull hole,' his grandmother's handsome castle, which he
assures Mr. Mortlake is inhabited by old women and servants.
"'A note will do for to-night, by Jove!' vows Captain Brand, 'and I'll
send it over.'
"Monsieur Mortlake protests that he has heard so much of the antiquity
of Castle Brand that he would think it a boon if the captain would
permit him to carry that note, if it is only for the chance of seeing
such a castle.
"'By all means you shall, if that will please you,' says the captain.
"Mademoiselle, as these men stand together in the lobby, I looking down
from the staircase upon them--for has not monsieur ordered me not to
disgrace him by intruding upon the captain?--a very strange idea occurs
to me; it strikes me very forcibly. I watch the men with amazement, with
fear. As we ride away together in the moonlight, I say to my friend:
"'Monsieur le Capitaine is a most handsome man.'
"He only curses Monsieur le Capitaine.
"I say again:
"'_Mon ami_, do not execrate your own image.'
"He turns in his saddle with a savage oath--he glares like the hungry
wolf.
"'What's that, you jabbering idiot!' he roars, in his brutal way.
"'Captain Brand and Monsieur Mortlake seem like as twin dogs,' I reply;
'you might change names with our haughty captain, and no one be the
wiser, save that he has the _bel air_ which you want--the polish, the
courtesy, which those of the mob can never learn.'
"'Curse him! I have as good blood in my veins as he has any day!' hisses
the furious voice of my envious Mortlake.
"Then he turns sour and silent, and is very poor company. I sing
_chansonettes_ to the moon; I whistle operas; I talk to my horse; he
takes no notice; I rally him upon his temper, and he swears madly at me.
"So I light my cigar and smoke for company until we reach the great
Castle Brand, which towers like a vast cathedral under the moon.
"Mademoiselle, a magnificent statue waits him at the door. Mademoiselle
remembers the interview. Enough! My tripping tongue need not rehearse
the scene.
"Back comes Monsieur Mortlake, devil-possessed, and overwhelms me with a
terrible curse.
"I laugh at his slow-stepping wit.
"I have seen a pretty possibility for monsieur, even while mademoiselle
is speaking.
"'Stupid Englishman!' I cry, as we ride across the Waaste, 'don't you
see that you might get this fine English castle and estate to yourself
some day, if you could personate brave Captain Brand?'
"My romantic fancy is captivated by this little scheme. I go on amusing
myself by describing how it might be done. I give you my word,
mademoiselle, that it is all in jest--a freak of imagination nothing
more.
"My sour comrade listens with a serpent's guile; his clever brain is
twisting a rope out of my threads of fiction; he catches my bagatelle,
and transforms it into a plot--the plot which would have proved
successful but for Marguerite, the heroic.
"_Eh bien_, to continue:
"We ride away to the hotel at Regis that night, and monsieur had a
little interview with Captain Brand, and tells him the message which
Mademoiselle Walsingham has sent to him. Then is the captain furious,
and impatient, and self-reproachful for his cold-blooded neglect of the
poor fond grandmama, and he gallops off to the old castle on the wings
of the wind, and is too late, and remains moping at the castle, seeing
nobody but red-eyed Chetwode, for the magnificent Mademoiselle
Walsingham has locked herself within her room and will not see him.
"My careful Mortlake gathers all this from the footmen and servants from
the castle, and makes envious remarks upon the dog that has, and wants
it not, and the dog that wants, and has it not.
"In the evening of that day on which Madame Brand is interred, Monsieur
le Capitaine comes back to Regis choking with rage. Monsieur Mortlake
offers congratulations, and hears the whole of the will from our angry
captain, who utters a scornful fanfaronade against the brave
Mademoiselle Walsingham. Cries royally:
"'I won't interfere with the companion--she's free for me; I'll get out
of England as fast as I can, and try my luck abroad.'
"'Try the United States,' insinuates M. Mortlake.
"'Good! and join the army,' says our captain, with a war-glance which
sweeps the horizon and sees coming fame, 'and win glory, since I am
stripped of my fortune.'
"'Will you go, then?' pursues Monsieur Mortlake.
"'I'll think of it,' says Captain Brand.
"And he does think of it, and to such purpose that in an hour he has
left Regis and is posting back to London.
"Monsieur Mortlake comes to me and tells me all this.
"'Calembours, I have a job for you,' says my friend. His language is
never refined. _Ouf!_ how can it be? But I laugh, amused, and I applaud,
for my perception is swifter than Monsieur's tongue; it has skipped on a
mile of the plan, and turned to meet the tardy wit of my Mortlake.
"'So be it,' I cry, with smiles. 'You want me to put you in those
cavalry boots of Captain Brand, that you may win his castle and his
Marguerite.'
"To my surprise my friend writhes with anger--half chokes over this:
"'His castle and his Marguerite? Hang him! I have a better right than he
to them.'
"And becomes immediately mysterious, close as a mute.
"When we reach London, and find that Monsieur le Capitaine is really
selling his commission in the Guards, and going to America, my Mortlake
reveals his well-considered plot to me.
"'Calembours, you are such a plausible rogue,' says my coarse friend,
'that you might be a great help to me in the plan I've thought of.'
"'Dear friend, you flatter me,' I, smiling, reply. 'Command me.'
"'This fellow is in love with some woman of rank here in London,'
pursues my Mortlake. 'I can't find out her name, he's such a proud
fellow; but that's the reason why he throws off the woman at Castle
Brand and forswears the fortune. Now, d'ye see, Calembours, how we can
turn his tomfoolery to account?'
"I bow; I am interested, but not admiring.
"He can go off to the war, and somebody can go off with him, to keep an
eye on him that he doesn't balk, and to worm himself into all the
fellow's secrets and past history. Somebody gentlemanly and taking, and
with plenty of confounded jabber about 'em. You'd do first rate,
Calembours.'
"'So flattered,' I smile. 'The good opinion of my dear M. Mortlake is so
consoling.'
"'You could creep round him so nicely,' observed my friend; 'you could
get anything you liked out of him, you've got such an innocent look, you
dog; while I can't become the polished gentleman without practice, fact
being that I've forgotten the talk. I was once as swell as any of
'em--was in the army, bedad! an artillery officer; but luck changed,
curse it! and my company wasn't so high-flying, though we were a jolly
pack for all that, especially after the day's duties were over.'
"'Was monsieur a soldier or a knight of the pen?' I ask.
"He shows his long teeth in a snarling smile.
"'I was in a government office--served my country,' he replies; 'and,
getting home on furlough, I might as well feather my nest while I have a
chance, and then slip the cable on 'em. Pay isn't very good there, nor
victuals very plenty.'
"'Eh! prison fare?' I ask, scenting the jest.
"He scowls like an ogre at me.
"'You're a fool!' he growls. 'No; I was a Road Commissioner. Come, now,
will you go with Brand, and win some cool thousands by the speculation?'
"'What are my duties?' I cautiously reply.
"'To keep close by him through all his windings, until--'
"My Mortlake stops.
"'Until?' I venture.
"'Until the dog is killed,' whispers monsieur.
"I start back--I wave the vile insinuation from me.
"'_Pardieu!_' I scream; 'I am _chevalier d'honneur_! I pride myself upon
my illustrious reputation. Monsieur must seek another colleague.'
"'Idiot!' he roars, 'did I ask you to have anything to do with that? Do
I suspect _you_ of enough pluck to crush a snake? No, you fool, I don't.
The man will be killed in battle. All I want of you is to hear his
private business, so that you can post me up. If you want to make your
fortune, say so.'
"Mademoiselle, my dearest wish has always been to make my fortune. _Ma
foi!_ shall I refuse it when it comes begging at my door?
"'So be it. _Vive l'Amerique!_' I cry. 'Give me my instructions.'
"And monsieur does give me my instructions.
"I am to be hand and glove with Monsieur le Capitaine; I am to learn his
history off by heart and write it down for my Mortlake to study; and
when he falls in battle I am to win my reward, but not till then. I am
encouraged by every inducement to be the assassin myself. I am assured
that if Captain Brand does not die in the course of twelve months,
Monsieur Mortlake can do nothing for me; and I laugh to myself, and say:
"'I shall watch my Mortlake.'
"'And what will monsieur do until I return to England?' I say.
"'I'll pigeon the green hands in the gambling saloons,' he tells me,
'and have a neat little sum to carry us through the plot.'
"So we make up our plans, and I follow Captain Brand to Liverpool.
"The last act of friendship which my principal does for me is to send
after me a servant to attend me.
"'A trusty fellow,' writes M. Mortlake, 'who will help you with the
captain. He is an unscrupulous chap, and might do that little job for
you. Thoms is a cute fellow, and won't betray us.'
"Monsieur Mortlake has changed his mind at the last moment; he doubts
the villainy of his accomplice; he comes himself, in Thoms' disguise, to
watch how the game goes.
"He says to himself, 'Calembours may betray my plot to Captain Brand,
or, not betraying it, may fail to see him killed, and he may turn up