Part 31 (1/2)
”Well, Mr. Chancey, what do you say?” said Grimes. ”I'm for a couple of bottles of sack, and a good pitcher of ale, to begin with, in the way of liquor.”
”Well, it wouldn't be that bad,” said Chancey. ”What meat have you on the spit, my good man?”
”I don't exactly know, sir,” replied the wondering domestic; ”but I'll inquire.”
”And see, my good man,” continued Chancey, ”ask them whether there isn't some cold roast beef in the b.u.t.tery; and if so, bring it up in a jiffy, for, I declare to G--d I'm uncommon hungry; and let the cook send up a hot joint directly;--and do you mind, my honest man, light a bit of a fire here, for it's rather chill, and put plenty of dry sticks----”
”Give us the ale and the sack this instant minute, do you see,” said Mr. Grimes. ”You may do the rest after.”
”Yes, you may as well,” resumed Chancey; ”for indeed I'm lost with the drooth myself.”
”Cut your stick, saucepan,” said Mr. Grimes, authoritatively; and the servant departed in unfeigned astonishment to execute his various commissions.
Ashwoode threw himself into a seat, and in silence endeavoured to collect his thoughts. Faint, sick, and stunned, he nevertheless began gradually to comprehend every particular of his position more and more fully--until at length all the ghastly truth stood revealed to his mind's eye in vivid and glaring distinctness. While Ashwoode was engaged in his agreeable ruminations, Mr. Chancey and Mr. Grimes were busily employed in discussing the substantial fare which his larder had supplied, and pledging one another in copious libations of generous liquor.
CHAPTER x.x.xIX.
THE BARGAIN, AND THE NEW CONFEDERATES.
At length the evening came--darkness closed over the old place, and as the appointed hour approached, Ashwoode became more and more excited.
”I must,” thought he, ”keep every faculty intensely on the stretch, to detect, if possible, the nature of their schemes. Blarden and Chancey have unquestionably hatched some other d----d plot, though what worse can befall me? _I_ am netted as completely as their worst malice can desire. It is now seven o'clock. Another hour will determine all my doubts. Hark you, sirrah!” continued he, raising his voice, and addressing a servant who had entered the chamber, ”I expect a gentleman upon particular business at eight o'clock. On his arrival conduct him directly to this room.”
He then relapsed into the same train of gloomy and agitated thought.
Chancey and his burly companion both sat snugly before the fire smoking their pipes in silent enjoyment, while their miserable host paced the room from wall to wall in mental torments indescribable.
At length the weary interval expired, and within a few minutes of the appointed hour, Nicholas Blarden was admitted by the servant, and ushered into the chamber in which Ashwoode expected his arrival.
”Well, Sir Henry,” exclaimed Blarden, as he swaggered into the room, ”you seem a little fl.u.s.tered still--eh? Hope you found your company pleasant. My friends' society is considered uncommon agreeable.”
The visitor here threw himself into a chair, and continued--
”By the holy Saint Paul, as I rode up your cursed old dusky avenue, I began to think the chances were ten to one you had brought your throat and a razor acquainted before this. I have known men do it under your circ.u.mstances--of course I mean _gentlemen_, with fine friends and delicate habits, and who could not stand exposure and all that kind of thing. I say, Mr. Grimes, my sweet fellow, you may leave the room, but keep within call, do ye mind. Mr. Chancey and I want to have a little confidential conversation with my friend, Sir Henry. Bundle out, and the moment you hear me call your name, bolt in again like a shot.”
Mr. Grimes, without answering, rose and lounged out of the room.
”Chancey, shut that door,” continued Blarden. ”Shut it tight, as tight as a drum. There, to your seat again. _Now_ then, Sir Henry, we may as well to business; but first of all, sit down. I have no objection to your sitting. Don't be shy.”
Sir Henry Ashwoode _did_ seat himself, and the three members of this secret council drew their chairs around the table, each with very different feelings.
”I take it for granted,” said Blarden, planting his elbow upon the table, and supporting his chin upon his hand, while he fixed his baleful eyes upon the young man, ”I take it for granted, and as a matter of course, that you have been puzzling your brains all day to come at the reason why I allow you to be sitting in this house, instead of clapping your four bones under lock and key, in another place.”
He paused here, as if to allow his exordium to impress itself upon the memory of his auditory, and then resumed,--
”And I take it for granted, moreover, that you are not quite fool enough to imagine that I care one blast if you were strung up by the hangman, and carved by the doctors, to-morrow--eh?”
He paused again.
”Well, then, it's possible you think I have some end of my own to serve, by letting the matter stand over this way. And so I _have_, by ----. You think right, if you never thought right before. I _have_ an object in view, and it lies with you whether it's gained or lost. Do you mind?”