Part 15 (1/2)
”I do not know whether I have the honour of addressing the son of Mr.
Horace Grey?” said Mr. Cleveland, with a frowning countenance, which was intended to be courteous.
”I have that honour.”
”Your father, sir, is a most amiable and able man. I had the pleasure of his acquaintance when I was in London, many years ago, at a time when Mr. Vivian Grey was not entrusted, I rather imagine, with missions 'of importance.'” Although Mr. Cleveland smiled when he said this, his smile was anything but a gracious one. The subdued satire of his keen eye burst out for an instant, and he looked as if he would have said, ”Who is this yonker who is trespa.s.sing upon my retirement?”
Vivian had, unbidden, seated himself by the side of Mr. Cleveland's library table; and, not knowing exactly how to proceed, was employing himself by making a calculation whether there were more black than white spots on the body of the old Newfoundland, who was now apparently happily slumbering.
”Well, sir!” continued the Newfoundland's master, ”the nature of your communication? I am fond of coming to the point.”
Now this was precisely the thing which Vivian had determined not to do; and so he diplomatised, in order to gain time. ”In stating, Mr.
Cleveland, that the communication which I had to make was one of importance, I beg to be understood, that it was with reference merely to my opinion of its nature that that phrase was used, and not as relative to the possible, or, allow me to say, the probable, opinion of Mr.
Cleveland.”
”Well, sir!” said that gentleman, with a somewhat disappointed air.
”As to the purport or nature of the communication it is,” said Vivian, with one of his sweetest cadences and looking up to Mr. Cleveland's face with an eye expressive of all kindness, ”it is of a political nature.”
”Well, sir!” again exclaimed Cleveland, looking very anxious, and moving restlessly on his library chair.
”When we take into consideration, Mr. Cleveland, the present aspect of the political world, when we call to mind the present situation of the two great political parties, you will not be surprised, I feel confident, when I mention that certain personages have thought that the season was at hand when a move might be made in the political world with very considerable effect--”
”Mr. Grey, what am I to understand?” interrupted Mr. Cleveland, who began to suspect that the envoy was no greenhorn.
”I feel confident, Mr. Cleveland, that I am doing very imperfect justice to the mission with which I am entrusted; but, sir, you must be aware that the delicate nature of such disclosures, and--”
”Mr. Grey, I feel confident that you do not doubt my honour; and, as for the rest, the world has, I believe, some foolish tales about me; but, believe me, you shall be listened to with patience. I am certain that, whatever may be the communication, Mr. Vivian Grey is a gentleman who will do its merits justice.”
And now Vivian, having succeeded in exciting Cleveland's curiosity and securing himself the certainty of a hearing, and having also made a favourable impression, dropped the diplomatist altogether, and was explicit enough for a Spartan.
”Certain n.o.blemen and Gentlemen of eminence and influence, hitherto considered as props of the ---- party, are about to take a novel and decided course next Session. It is to obtain the aid and personal co-operation of Mr. Cleveland that I am now in Wales.
”Mr. Grey, I have promised to listen to you with patience: you are too young a man to know much, perhaps, of the history of so insignificant a personage as myself, otherwise you would have been aware that there is no subject in the world on which I am less inclined to converse than that of politics. If I were ent.i.tled to take such a liberty, I would recommend you to think of them as little as I do; but enough of this.
Who is the mover of the party?”
”My Lord Courtown is a distinguished member of it.”
”Courtown, Courtown; powerful enough: but surely the good Viscount's skull is not exactly the head for the chief of a cabal?”
”There is my Lord Beaconsfield.”
”Powerful, too; but a dolt.”
”Well,” thought Vivian, ”it must out at last; and so to it boldly. And, Mr. Cleveland, there is little fear that we may secure the great influence and tried talents of the Marquess of Carabas.”
”The Marquess of Carabas!” almost shrieked Mr. Cleveland, as he started from his seat and paced the room with hurried steps; and the greyhound and the Newfoundland jumped up from the rug, shook themselves, growled, and then imitated their master in promenading the apartment, but with more dignified and stately paces. ”The Marquess of Carabas! Now, Mr.