Vivian Grey Part 39

"No, no," said Miss Fane, with firmness, and looking quickly up, as if her mind were relieved by discovering that all this time Vivian had never imagined she was thinking of him. "No, no, you are mistaken; it is not of Mr. St. George, of Mr. St. George only, that I am thinking. I am much better now; I shall be able in an instant to speak; be able, I trust, to forget how foolish, how very foolish I have been.

"Let us walk on," continued Miss Fane, "let us walk on; we can easily account for our absence if it be remarked; and it is better that it should be all over. I feel quite well, and shall be able to speak quite firmly now."

"Do not hurry; there is no fear of our absence being remarked, Lady Madeleine is so surrounded."

"After what has pa.s.sed, it seems ridiculous in me to apologise, as I had intended, for speaking to you on a graver subject than what has generally formed the point of conversation between us. I feared that you might misunderstand the motives which have dictated my conduct. I have attempted not to appear agitated, and I have been overcome. I trust that you will not be offended if I recur to the subject of the New House. Do not believe that I ever would have allowed my fears, my girlish fears, so to have overcome my discretion; so to have overcome, indeed, all propriety of conduct on my part; as to have induced me to have sought an interview with you, to moralise to you about your mode of life. No, no; it is not of this that I wish to speak, or rather that I will speak. I will hope, I will pray, that Albert and yourself have never found in that which you have followed as an amus.e.m.e.nt, the source, the origin, the cause of a single unhappy or even anxious moment; Mr. Grey, I will believe all this."

"Dearest Miss Fane, believe it with confidence. Of St. George, I can with sincerity aver, that it is my firm opinion, that, far from being involved, his fortune is not in the slightest degree injured. Believe me, I will not attempt to quiet you now, as I would have done at any other time, by telling you that you magnify your fears, and allow your feelings to exaggerate the danger which exists. There has been danger.

There is danger; play, high play, has been and is pursued at this New House, but Mr. St. George has never been a loser; and if the exertions of man can avail, never shall, at least unfairly. As to the other individual, whom you have honoured by the interest which you have professed in his welfare, no one can more thoroughly detest any practice which exists in this world than he does the gaming-table."

"Oh! you have made me so happy! I feel so persuaded that you have not deceived me! the tones of your voice, your manner, your expression, convince me that you have been sincere, and that I am happy, at least for the present."

"For ever, I trust, Miss Fane."

"Let me now prevent future misery. Let me speak about that which has long dwelt on my mind like a nightmare, about that which I did fear it was almost too late to speak. Not of your pursuit, not even of that fatal pursuit, do I now think, but of your companion in this amus.e.m.e.nt, in all amus.e.m.e.nts! it is he, he whom I dread, whom I look upon with horror, even to him, I cannot say, with hatred!"

"The Baron?" said Vivian, calmly.

"I cannot name him. Dread him, fear him, avoid him! it is he that I mean, he of whom I thought that you were the victim. You must have been surprised, you must have wondered at our conduct towards him. Oh! when Lady Madeleine turned from him with coolness, when she answered him in tones which to you might have appeared harsh, she behaved to him, in comparison to what is his due, and what we sometimes feel to be our duty, with affection, actually with affection and regard. No human being can know what horror is, until he looks upon a fellow-creature with the eyes that I look upon that man." She leant upon Vivian's arm with her whole weight, and even then he thought she must have sunk; neither spoke. How solemn is the silence of sorrow!

"I am overcome," continued Miss Fane; "the remembrance of what he has done overwhelms me. I cannot speak it; the recollection is death; yet you must know it. That you might know it, I have before attempted. I wished to have spared myself the torture which I now endure. You must know it. I will write; ay! that will do. I will write: I cannot speak now; it is impossible; but beware of him; you are so young."

"I have no words now to thank you, dear Miss Fane, for this. Had I been the victim of Von Konigstein, I should have been repaid for all my misery by feeling that you regretted its infliction; but I trust that I am in no danger: though young, I fear that I am one who must not count his time by calendars. 'An aged interpreter, though young in days.'

Would that I could be deceived! Fear not for your cousin. Trust to one whom you have made think better of this world, and of his fellow-creatures."

The sound of approaching footsteps, and the light laugh of pleasure, told of some who were wandering like themselves.

"We had better return," said Miss Fane; "I fear that Lady Madeleine will observe that I look unwell. Some one approaches! No, they pa.s.s only the top of the walk." It was Mr. St. George and Aurelia Fitzloom.

Quick flew the brilliant hours; and soon the dance was over, and the music mute.

It was late when Vivian retired. As he opened his door he was surprised to find lights in his chamber. The figure of a man appeared seated at the table. It moved; it was Essper George.

CHAPTER XIII

The reader will remember that Vivian had agreed to dine, on the day after the fete, with the Baron, in his private apartments. This was an arrangement which, in fact, the custom of the house did not permit; but the irregularities of great men who are attended by cha.s.seurs are occasionally winked at by a supple maitre d'hotel. Vivian had reasons for not regretting his acceptance of the invitation; and he never shook hands with the Chevalier de Boeffleurs, apparently, with greater cordiality, than on the day on which he met him at dinner at the Baron von Konigstein's. Mr. St. George had not arrived.

"Past five!" said the Baron; "riding out, I suppose, with the Fitzlooms.

Aurelia is certainly a fine girl; but I should think that Lady Madeleine would hardly approve the connection. The St. Georges have blood in their veins; and would, I suppose, as soon think of marrying a Fitzloom as we Germans should of marrying a woman without a _von_ before her name. We are quite alone, Grey, only the Chevalier and St. George. I had an idea of asking Salvinski, but he is such a regular steam-engine, and began such a long story last night about his interview with the King of Ashantee, that the bare possibility of his taking it into his head to finish it to-day frightened me. You were away early from the Grand Duke's last night. The business went off well."

"Very well, indeed!" said the Chevalier de Boeffleurs; completing by this speech the first dozen of words which he had uttered since his stay at Ems.

"I think that last night Lady Madeleine Trevor looked perfectly magnificent; and a certain lady, too, Grey, eh? Here is St. George. My dear fellow, how are you? Has the fair Aurelia recovered from the last night's fatigues? Now, Ernstorff, dinner as soon as possible."

The Baron made up to-day, certainly, for the silence of his friend the Chevalier. He outdid himself. Story after story, adventure after adventure, followed each other with exciting haste. In fact, the Baron never ceased talking the whole dinner, except when he refreshed himself with wine, which he drank copiously. A nice observer would, perhaps, have considered the Baron's high spirits artificial, and his conversation an effort. Yet his temper, though lively, was generally equable; and his ideas, which always appeared to occur easily, were usually thrown out in fluent phraseology. The dinner was long, and a great deal of wine was drunk: more than most of the parties present for a long time had been accustomed to. About eight o'clock the Chevalier proposed going to the Redoute, but the Baron objected.

"Let us have an evening altogether: surely we have had enough of the Redoute. In my opinion one of the advantages of the fete is, that there is no New House to-night. Conversation is a novelty. On a moderate calculation I must have told you to-day at least fifty original anecdotes. I have done my duty. It is the Chevalier's turn now. Come, de Boeffleurs, a choice one!"

"I remember a story Prince Salvinski once told me."

"No, no, that is too bad; none of that Polish bear's romances; if we have his stories, we may as well have his company."

"But it is a very curious story," continued the Chevalier, with a little animation.

"Oh! so is every story, according to the storier."

"I think, Von Konigstein, you imagine no one can tell a story but yourself," said De Boeffleurs, actually indignant. Vivian had never heard him speak so much before, and really began to believe that he was not quite an automaton.

"Let us have it!" said St. George.

"It is a story told of a Polish n.o.bleman, a Count somebody: I never can remember their crack-jaw names. Well! the point is this," said the silent little Chevalier, who, apparently, already repented of the boldness of his offer, and, mis...o...b..ing his powers, wished to begin with the end of his tale: "the point is this, he was playing one day at ecarte with the Governor of Wilna; the stake was trifling, but he had a bet, you see, with the Governor of a thousand roubles; a bet with the Governor's secretary, never mind the amount, say two hundred and fifty, you see; then, he went on the turn-up with the Commandant's wife; and took the pips on the trumps with the Archbishop of Warsaw. To understand the point of the story, you see, you must have a distinct conception how the game stood. You see, St. George, there was the bet with the Governor, one thousand roubles; the Governor's secretary, never mind the amount, say two hundred and fifty; turn-up with the Commandant's lady, and the pips with the Archbishop of Warsaw. Proposed three times, one for the king, the Governor drew ace; the Governor was already three and the ten. When the Governor scored king, the Archbishop gave the odds, drew knave queen one hand. The count offered to propose fourth time.

Governor refused. King to six, ace fell to knave, queen cleared on.

Governor lost, besides bets with the whole etat-major; the Secretary gave his bill; the Commandant's lady p.a.w.ned her jewels; and the Archbishop was done on the pips!"

"By Jove, what a Salvinski!"

"How many trumps had the Governor?" asked St. George.

"Three," said the Chevalier.

"Then it is impossible: I do not believe the story; it could not be."

"I beg your pardon," said the Chevalier; "you see the Governor had--"

"By Jove, don't let us have it all over again!" said the Baron. "Well!

if this be your model for an after-dinner anecdote, which ought to be as piquant as an anchovy toast, I will never complain of your silence in future."

"The story is a true story," said the Chevalier; "have you got a pack of cards, Von Konigstein? I will show it you."

"There is not such a thing in the room," said the Baron.

"Well, I never heard of a room without a pack of cards before," said the Chevalier; "I will send for one to my own apartments."

"Perhaps Ernstorff has got a pack. Here, Ernstorff, have you got a pack of cards? That's well; bring it immediately."

The cards were brought, and the Chevalier began to fight his battle over again; but could not satisfy Mr. St. George. "You see, there was the bet with the Governor, and the pips, as I said before, with the Archbishop of Warsaw."

"My dear De Boeffleurs, let's no more of this. If you like to have a game of ecarte with St. George, well and good; but as for quarrelling the whole evening about some blundering lie of Salvinski's, it really is too much. You two can play, and I can talk to Don Vivian, who, by-the-bye, is rather of the rueful countenance to-night. Why, my dear fellow, I have not heard your voice this evening: frightened by the fate of the Archbishop of Warsaw, I suppose?"

"Ecarte is so devilish dull," said St. George; "and it is such a trouble to deal."

"I will deal for both, if you like," said De Boeffleurs; "I am used to dealing."

"Oh! no, I won't play ecarte; let us have something in which we can all join."