Sir Jasper Carew Part 61

After walking about a mile I reached a high road which evidently led to the village; and now it became necessary to bethink me what account I should give of myself, and how explain my appearance when questioned, as I inevitably should be, by the authorities.

My drenched and shrunk-up clothes and my way-worn look might well have warranted the story of a shipwreck, and for some minutes I had almost resolved to give that version of my calamity; but I was so weary of the vicissitudes a false representation involved, so actually tired out by the labor of sustaining a part that was not my own, that I determined to take no heed of what was to follow, and leave myself to the chances of destiny, without a struggle against them.

Fortune, thought I, has never been over kind to me when I did my best to woo her; let me see if a little indifference on my part may not render her more graciously disposed. From some peasants on their way to market I learned that the village was called Lys, and was on the high road to Montreuil. At all events, then, I was in France, which was almost as much my country as England, and with even so much did I rally my spirits and encourage my hopes. The country-people, with their pack-mules, stared at my strange appearance, and evidently wondered what manner of man I might be, for I still wore my full-dress suit; and my lace ruffles and sabot, however discolored, showed undeniable signs of condition.

Many, however, saluted me respectfully, and touched their hats as to one of rank above their own, and not one displayed anything approaching levity or a jest at my singular exterior. It might possibly have been the secluded character of the spot itself, or that the recent peace with England had brought about the change; but whatever the cause, neither police nor gendarmerie questioned me as to my pa.s.sport, and I strolled into the first cafe that presented itself, to take my breakfast, without hindrance or impediment.

While I enjoyed my meal, I amused myself with the newspapers, at that time filled with descriptions of festivities and court receptions, at which the English were the honored guests. Instead of the accustomed allusions to insular eccentricity, awkwardness, and boorish unsociality, there were nothing but praises of English frankness and cordial simplicity. I saw that the Government, for doubtless good reasons of its own, had given the initiative to this new estimation of my countrymen; and resolved, if possible, to reap the benefit of it, I repaired to the Mairie and asked to see the "Maire." In a few words, I told him that I had laid a heavy wager to travel up to Paris and back to England without a pa.s.sport; that I had made this foolish bet at a dinner-party, which I quitted to accomplish my undertaking. My intention had been to have landed at Havre; but, by ill-luck, we were driven on sh.o.r.e to the north'ard, and narrowly escaped shipwreck; from which having saved myself, I reached Lys, dest.i.tute of everything save a small sum of money I carried about me. I told this story with the air of one who really felt that any impediment to so harmless a project must be impossible, and with such success that the Maire invited me into his drawing-room to repeat my tale to his family, as an excellent ill.u.s.tration of the length to which English eccentricity could go.

My manners, the facility with which I spoke French, my calm a.s.surance of not requiring any other aid or a.s.sistance than the friendly offices of the authorities, so gained his favor that he promised to think over the matter, and give me his opinion in the morning. I asked for no more.

I was not impatient to get forward; and at that moment the little gra.s.s-grown streets and alleys of Lys were as pleasing to me as the most fashionable thoroughfares of a great city.

He did not send for me, as he promised, on the following morning. A second day and a third pa.s.sed over with the same results; and still I remained loitering about the village and making acquaintance with every notable monument, from its quaint old church to the little obelisk in the marketplace, commemorating the birthplace of its great citizen, the architect Mansard.

I had by this time formed two or three slight acquaintanceships with the townsfolk, who, although living on a high road much traversed by travellers, were a simple-minded and maritime set of people. The little routine of this quaint old spot also pleased me; and I persuaded myself that I should ask nothing better from fortune than to be able to pa.s.s my life and end my days in Lys. Vast numbers of English poured daily into France at this time; and it was one of my chief amus.e.m.e.nts to sit at the little cafe in front of the "poste," and watch them as they changed horses. I do not suppose that even yet our countrymen escape from what would appear to be the almost inevitable blunders of foreign travel; but at the time I speak of, these mistakes and misapprehensions were far greater. The Continent and its languages were alike new to them.

National peculiarities were all more marked, and John Bull himself less compliant and more exacting than he now is.

As the temper and tone of the day were, however, favorable to England, and as Englishmen were remarkable for the liberality of their payments for all services rendered them, the nation was popular, and whatever errors or awkwardness they committed were speedily forgotten or forgiven. I was seated, as was my custom, one morning, watching the tide of travellers that rolled by unceasingly, when a large travelling carriage, with eight horses and a mounted courier in front, drew up at the "poste." While the horses were being harnessed, two gentlemen descended, and, crossing the "Place," entered the cafe. One was a large, full, and somewhat handsome man, with that florid look and air so characteristic of an English country squire; the other I had not time to remark ere he came up to me and said,--

"Happy to meet you again, Mr. Carew; I trust you don't forget me.'"

It was Colonel Canthorpe, whom I had met at O'Kelly's dinner-table.

"This chance meeting is a piece of good fortune," continued he, "since it enables me to pay a debt I owe you. On looking over my memorandum-book, I discovered I had lost three hundred, and not two, to you. Am I correct?"

I professed, with truth, that I had no recollection of the matter, nor had anything to guide me to its memory.

"I'm quite positive that I'm right, however," said he, "and you must allow me to acquit myself of the obligation. Who is your banker at Paris?"

I had to say that so many years had pa.s.sed over since I was there, I really had not thought of selecting one.

"But you are going on thither?" asked he.

"Yes, in a day or two; that is, as soon as I have arranged a difficulty about my pa.s.sport."

"If that's the only thing that detains you," said he, "pray accept of mine. In travelling with my friend Mr. Fox, I need none."

I turned at the sound of the name, and at once recognized, by the resemblance to the prints, the bluff and manly features of the great leader of the Opposition.

"This is our famous whist-player, Fox, Mr. Carew," said Canthorpe, presenting me; and the other rose and received me most courteously, adding some little compliments on my reputed skill at the game.

While we were yet talking, their breakfast made its appearance, and I was invited to partake of the meal,--a politeness which I accepted of readily, while I congratulated myself by thinking that up to this time at least O'Kelly had not divulged the secret of my former station.

The conversation turned princ.i.p.ally on France and its relations with England; and I was surprised to find the great parliamentary leader so little acquainted with either the character of the people or of those who ruled them. He seemed willing to accept all the present civil overtures as guarantees of lasting and cordial friendship, and to regard as antiquated and unworthy prejudices those expressions of distrust to which, in my more intimate knowledge of France, I occasionally gave utterance.

"Mr. Carew's whist experiences, I perceive'," said he, "are not his guides in politics. He will not trust his partner."

"There is this difference," said I, "that in whist you sit opposite to your ally: in politics, as in war, your vis-a-vis is your enemy."

"For my part," said he, good-humoredly, "I think, having fought against each other--bravely fought, as France and England have--is one of the very best elements towards a lasting peace. Each must by this time have attained to a proper estimate of the other; and from that source alone a degree of respect springs up, fit to become the foundation of true friendship."

"Your theory excludes all notion of a rivalry, sir."

"Rivalry can exist only between small states or individuals. Great countries have great ambitions, and these are usually above mere rivalries."

I have quoted, word for word, the expressions he made use of, less for any importance of their own than for the sake of the man who spoke them.

They were, as I afterwards came to know, specimens of that careless habit of talking in which he constantly indulged, and in which an indolent goodnature rather swayed him than the use of those fine faculties of judgment he so eminently possessed. My more intimate acquaintance with France and its language gave me certain advantages in our discussion which he soon perceived, and he questioned me closely about the people and their natural tendencies.

Colonel Canthorpe came twice to announce that the horses were ready, and yet still Mr. Fox stood, inquiring eagerly into points of which he confessed himself quite uninformed.

"How glad I should be," said he, "to have an opportunity of continuing this conversation. Is there any chance of our meeting at Paris?"

I owned that the expression of his wish on the subject quite decided me to go there.

"On what day, then, may I expect you? Shall we say Sat.u.r.day, and at dinner?"

"Most willingly," said I, "if I can accomplish it."

"As to the pa.s.sport, nothing easier," said Canthorpe. "This is mine--it is perfectly regular--requires no _vise_; and once in Paris, my friend here will obtain one for you in your own name."

"Just so," said Fox, shaking my hand cordially; and repeating "Sat.u.r.day--Quillac's Hotel," away he went, leaving me almost incredulous of all I had seen and been saying.

CHAPTER XLII. THE COMING SHADOW

I arrived in Paris a few days after, and took up my abode at the Hotel Quillac, then one of the most splendid in the capital. Mr. Fox and Colonel Canthorpe received me most courteously, willingly accepting my guidance in their visits to the various objects of interest that this glorious city contains. Such a knowledge of the language as I possessed was a rarer gift at that time than it now is, when education and foreign travel are so widely enjoyed; and I could plainly see that they regarded their chance acquaintanceship with me as quite a piece of good fortune.

This did not, however, prevent their feeling--as I could perceive they felt--a most lively curiosity as to what might have been my former life, where it had been pa.s.sed, and how. Too well bred to suffer this anxiety of theirs to appear, except by a mere accident, yet it was evident to me, by a hundred little circ.u.mstances, how it formed a constant subject of conversation between them.

I am far from implying that their intercourse with me was marked by anything like distrust or suspicion; on the contrary, they talked freely in my presence on every subject, and upon politics Mr. Fox especially spoke with a degree of openness that, had he been less distinguished, I should have presumed to call indiscreet. He made almost daily visits at the Tuileries, and never hesitated, on his return, to recount to us what had pa.s.sed between the First Consul and himself.

The manly character of the English statesman contributed to give the interviews many very interesting traits, to which also his imperfect knowledge of French lent several amusing features. Were I not afraid of repeating well-known anecdotes, I should avail myself of this opportunity to recall some instances of these. At all events, I am happy to have the occasion of saying that the veriest Tory that ever inveighed against France never had a more thoroughly English heart and spirit than Charles Fox. I have seen it imputed to him that in his partisanship he would willingly have accepted a dishonorable peace, and made common cause with the First Consul on any terms; and I affirm that I am in a position to refute this foul charge, and prove it a calumny.

Neither, as was a.s.serted at the time, did the unquestionable fascination of Bonaparte's manner gain a complete ascendancy over the Englishman's less-cultivated tact. It is true he came back--as who would not?--from these meetings amazed at the extensive knowledge, the vast acquirements, and the profound sagacity of that great man; nor did he hesitate to own that even these were thrown into the shade by the charms of his manner and the captivation of an address which I believe at that period had reached its very point of perfection.

An attack of gout confined Mr. Fox for some time to his room, and thus interfered with the progress of an intimacy that might be fairly called friendship. Who can say now how far the highest interests of mankind, the fortunes of the whole world, may not have been influenced by that casual indisposition! It is certain that Fox had already been able to disabuse Bonaparte's mind with regard to a variety of things in which he judged erroneously. He had succeeded in setting him right on several points of our national spirit and the spirit of our const.i.tution. He had even done much towards convincing him that England was not inspired with an insane hatred to France, and would willingly live at peace with her, only asking that a peace should have guarantees for its duration, and not be, as it but too often is, but the interval of preparation for war.

I say then again what a change might there have been to the destinies of mankind, had this intercourse gone on uninterruptedly! How differently might Bonaparte have learned to regard and consider Englishmen, and what allowances might he not have come to make for peculiarities purely national!

How naturally might a great intelligence like his have seen that the alliance of two such nations is the guarantee of civilization throughout the globe, and that all our smaller rivalries and national jealousies sink to insignificance when viewed in presence of the great perils to which disunion exposes us,--perils that, at the hour in which I write these lines, are neither vague nor visionary, and against which an honest and cordial alliance can alone prevail. Let it be taken as the tremulous terror of an old man's mind if I add, that even banded together, and with all their energies to the task, they will not be more than enough for the work that is before them.

I have spoken of the friendly reception I met with from Mr. Fox. I dined constantly with him and Colonel Canthorpe alone, and accompanied them frequently on their evening visits amongst their acquaintances. I joined in everything, even to the high play which they both were pa.s.sionately devoted to, and lost and won without any decisive results. Meanwhile my resources ran lower and lower. The style of living I maintained was costly; and at the end of some weeks I saw myself with barely sufficient to carry me through another fortnight. To this very hour I cannot explain to myself the calm indifference with which I contemplated my approaching and inevitable ruin. I really know nothing of the flatteries by which I may have beguiled my own heart, and am left to the conclusion that the intoxicating pleasures of the time had rendered me insensible to every thought for the future. I went further, too, than might be supposed possible. I accepted invitations to shoot in Scotland, and pa.s.s my Christmas at Canthorpe's seat in c.u.mberland, promising everything with the ease of one free to dispose of himself as he fancied.

Meanwhile time went on. I had asked Mr. Fox and Canthorpe to dine with me at the Fleur-de-Pois, outside the barrier. It was a celebrated restaurant of those times, as distinguished for the excellence of its wine as the perfection of its cookery. I had often given myself the airs of connoisseurship in these matters, and I was resolved that my entertainment should not disparage my taste.

More than one morning had I pa.s.sed in council over the bill of fare, discussing the order of the courses, canva.s.sing the appropriate sauces, and tasting the various wines. It was to be a "Diner a soixante francs par tete;" the reader may imagine the rest. I knew that my friends were unacquainted with the repute this house enjoyed, and I congratulated myself in fancying the surprise they would feel at the unexpected perfection of every arrangement within doors. I went down early on the morning of the eventful day to see that everything was in readiness. All was perfect; the table was decorated with the choicest flowers, amidst which an ornamental dessert lay scattered, as it were. The temperature of the room, the lighting, all were cared for; and I returned to Paris fully satisfied that nothing had been omitted or forgotten. Instead, however, of repairing to my hotel, I went to a small restaurant near the Luxembourg to breakfast, and lounged afterwards at the gardens there, intending to keep myself "up" for the evening, and not dissipate any of those conversational resources I wished to h.o.a.rd for the hours of conviviality. The reader may well smile at the inconsistency of the man who could so collectedly devise a few hours of pleasure, and yet face the whole future without a moment's thought or deliberation! Towards five o'clock I sauntered slowly back to the hotel.

"A note for you, sir," said the porter, presenting me with a letter as I entered. "The gentleman said it was to be given to you the moment you came in."