Garrick's Pupil Part 5

CHAPTER IV.

THE BROOKS CLUB.

Eleven o'clock chimed from the tall clock placed opposite the fireplace.

To its faint, silvery tones, which vibrated for some moments upon the atmosphere of the silent chamber, neighboring clocks, repeating the hour, seemed to make echo with their melancholy voices.

"Already eleven o'clock!" exclaimed Esther, starting to her feet. "I must go; I should be at home at this moment!"

"The crowd has not yet dispersed," answered Lady Vereker; "listen to their shouts."

Lady Vereker's mansion was situated upon Park Lane, at that day a lonesome part of the town, whither gentlemen were wont to come in the early morning to cross swords in order to get up an appet.i.te, and instead frequently succeeded in turning their stomachs inside out. Bella approached one of the windows. Upon the faint, luminous grayness of the sky were sketched the outlines of Hyde Park wrapped in profound sleep, but the glow of the bonfires flushed the southern horizon, and from time to time savage outcries crossed the calmness of the night.

"They are delirious over their Rodney," said Bella with a shrug; "neither a chair nor a coach will be able to pa.s.s through St. James's, and the other side of the Green Park is deserted at this hour; we should risk being attacked there. Ah, me! how fortunate are common women! They can go everywhere. But why should we not change our attire? My women will accommodate us with gowns. _Pardieu!_ that would be charming!"

Lady Vereker uttered her little oath in French. The idea of the masquerade pleased her immensely, and without waiting for Esther's acquiescence she began to put it in execution.

At the expiration of a quarter of an hour they were equipped as women of the lower cla.s.s.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Esther," exclaimed Lady Bella, "you look like a Soho dressmaker! And I, Fanchette, what do I look like?"

"I dare not say," replied the maid; "all that I can a.s.sure your ladyship is that in my gown you are--worse than I."

"Exactly as I desire to look," replied Lady Vereker with a burst of laughter at the impertinence.

Thereupon she started off, taking Esther by the arm, and forbidding even a footman to follow her. For that matter, her people seemed accustomed to the strange caprices of their mistress.

Upon reaching Piccadilly they pa.s.sed suddenly from the shadow and silence into the tumult and violent glare of the bonfires. Many a joke was levelled at them as they pa.s.sed. One man wearing clerical attire, and who seemed completely intoxicated, approached them, declaring that by Jupiter they were deucedly pretty girls and he would have a kiss from each! In order to escape him the two women ran down St. James Street, where the crowd separated them from the enterprising clergyman.

"A churchman!" panted Esther. "Can you believe it?"

"No, my dear: it was the Duke of Norfolk; he whom they call 'Jockey Norfolk.' His mania is for disguising himself as a country curate, and running about town and making a fool of himself. When he is dead-drunk people profit by his condition to rob him."

"What a horrible person!"

"On the contrary, I a.s.sure you that when he is sober he is most amiable."

In the neighborhood of St. James's the mob grew denser and more excited. There were beggar-women holding their new-born infants at arms'

length, chairmen, sailors, thieves of all ages, recognizable by their skulking air and their sly, sharp glances, and finally a sprinkling of gentlemen, come hither after a good dinner to give vent to their political pa.s.sions, or simply to amuse themselves by hustling the women and making a noise generally. The crowd laughed and vociferated, and threw stones at the windows of a grand mansion which belonged to one of the king's ministers. They applauded each successful shot, and howled over the failures.

At last all the ministerial windows were broken except one, which remained intact, protected by two caryatides which advanced like sentinels, supporting the roof; and against this single window were all the efforts directed, as if the detested minister were standing behind the sash, or as if the crushing of that bit of gla.s.s were going to cover the enemies of England with confusion and terminate the war at a blow.

The a.s.sailants excited each other by constantly crying, "Be bold, Tommy!" "At it again, Jack!" "Pluck up there, old boy!"

Suddenly a figure bounded from the midst of the crowd, a long arm was extended, a stone whizzed through the air, and the window so long protected was shattered, and fell into a thousand pieces. A yell of triumph burst from a hundred throats, and every eye was turned upon the hero. He was a great, lank, awkward fellow with a pug-nose, a cold, impertinent eye, thin lips and blinking eyelids, who testified the satisfaction in his achievement simply by a fleeting smile of coa.r.s.e disdain.

"Is that you, William?" said Bella to him. "Fine occupation for Lord Chatham's son!"

Young William Pitt turned sharply and bent his keen gaze upon the person who had thus apostrophized him. He recognized her and a swift flush stained his pallid cheeks.

"Let me alone," he muttered; "I was only having some fun!" And walking off, he was soon lost in the crowd.

"That boy will never be anything but a ne'er-do-well," said Lady Vereker with a shrug.

Three years later "that boy" became Prime Minister of England, and such a Prime Minister as England had never had before him.

Meanwhile the crowd waxed more turbulent. The ferocity born of pleasure, the longing to destroy, peculiar to such huge a.s.semblies of Englishmen, begin to make themselves manifest.

As there were no more windows to break, what was to be done?

"Pull down the house!" was the cry. "Get a beam and we will set our shoulders to it! Here are twenty good men of like mind! No: fetch some straw and f.a.gots! Set fire to the door! Let us smoke the rats out of their trap!"

A score of figures appeared, ghastly, sinister, suggesting pillage. In the general disorder the libertines grew bolder. The shrieks of women burst from obscure corners, followed by long, brutal laughter.

"I am terrified! I feel as if I were going to faint," gasped Esther.

Although she affected a show of courage, Lady Vereker was beginning to quail.

"Indeed, I did very wrong to come here," she said; "let us try to retrace our steps or gain a side street."

But it was too late. The mob increased with every moment. The crowds of new arrivals pressed down upon them, cutting off the retreat of those who sought to escape the turmoil.

"I am stifling!" cried Esther wildly, as she lost her footing.

At this moment a cry arose:--

"The Guards! the Guards!"

The solid earth trembled beneath the gallop of the troop which had just turned the corner of Pall Mall and were charging up the street. Amidst the frightful tumult there came a second of silence and stupor, during which was heard the ring of hoofs as they struck the pavement and the commands of the officers:--

"Right about! Forward! Draw sabres!"

There was a click of steel and glimmer of blades. An indescribable panic ensued. The people, of late so buoyant, now mad with terror, rushed towards the nearest exit--that is, to some place of safety--with such savage energy and with so formidable an impulse that iron railings were rent before them. Esther felt herself wrenched from Bella so suddenly and with such brutal force that it was a miracle that her arm which encircled Lady Vereker's waist was not left behind her. The human tide hurled her against a house and would have crushed her against the wall had not other human bodies intervened and saved her from the violence of the shock. She found herself at the head of a flight of six stairs without having set foot upon one of them. A large door stood open before her. Twenty persons were projected along with her into the interior in a solid ma.s.s, entering the house like an inundation. Esther was saved; the horrible fear which had paralyzed every nerve was relieved, and her heart began to beat again. At the same time, through the open door and high above the desperate cries of those who still struggled in the street, she heard the ringing voice of an officer commanding a halt. The Riot Act was being read, and an occasional fragment of the coldly menacing phrases reached even her ear.

The place into which Esther had been cast was a s.p.a.cious vestibule, into which surged fresh arrivals without ceasing, despite the efforts of the footmen and of a man who fretted and fumed, and gave useless and inexecutable orders. This man, the proprietor of the place, was Mr.

Brooks, and the house was the famous club which bore his name. Poor Mr.

Brooks endeavored to confine the crowd to the vestibule, which he was forced to yield to it, as one yields to a conflagration; but already under the pressure of the ma.s.s Esther had been thrust into a second antechamber. The air was close and stifling; the situation became critical, while the second danger threatened to become worse than the first.

Suddenly a little door was thrown open, and some one laid hold upon her.

In the next instant the door was closed, and the girl found herself in the depths of an arm-chair, where she swooned.

Not entirely, however; she felt in a half-conscious way that some one slapped her hands and blew in her face. A voice murmured, "Some water!

Cold water, quick!" Then the person left her, for she felt that she was alone again. Suddenly a great hubbub filled the house. In the street without, now quite deserted, the cavalry swept by like a whirlwind.

Then all was silence. With eyes closed, and in a state of semi-consciousness, Esther believed herself alone, when all at once, but a few steps from her, a word was p.r.o.nounced in an angry tone.

"A doublet!"