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The Bramleighs of Bishop's Folly Part 16

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"I look upon it as directly the opposite. I regard it as I would a pebble getting amongst the wheels, and causing jar and disturbance, sir."

"Well, then," said Cutbill, emptying the last drop into his gla.s.s, "I take it I need not go over all the details you will find in those papers. There are plans, and specifications, and estimates, and computations, showing what we mean to do, and how; and as I really could add nothing to the report, I suppose I may wish you a good night."

"I am very sorry, Mr. Cutbill, if my inability to be jocular should deprive me of the pleasure of your society; but there are still many points on which I desire to be informed."

"It's all there. If you were to bray me in a mortar you could n't get more out of me than you 'll find in those papers; and whether it 's the heat of the room, or the wine, or the subject, but I am awfully sleepy,"

and he backed this a.s.surance with a hearty yawn.

"Well, sir, I must submit to your dictation. I will try and master these details before I go to bed, and will take some favorable moment to-morrow to talk them over."

"That's said like a sensible man," said Cutbill, clapping him familiarly on the shoulder, and steadying himself the while; for as he stood up to go, he found that the wine had been stronger than he suspected. "When we see a little more of each other," said he, in the oracular tone of a man who had drunk too much; "when we see a little more of each other, we 'll get on famously. You know the world, and I know the world. You have had your dealings with men, and I have had my dealings with men, and we know what's what. Ain't I right, Bramleigh?"

"I have no doubt there is much truth in what you say."

"Truth, truth, it's true as gospel! There's only one thing, however, to be settled between us. Each must make his little concession with reci-procity--reci-procity, ain't it?"

"Quite so; but I don't see your meaning."

"Here it is, then, Bramleigh; here's what I mean. If we 're to march together we must start fair. No man is to have more baggage than his neighbor. If I 'm to give up chaff, do you see, you must give up humbug.

If I 'm not to have my bit of fun, old boy, you 're not to come over me about doing something for Ireland, that's all," and with this he lounged out, banging the door after him as he went.

Mr. Cutbill, as he went to his room, had a certain vague suspicion that he had drunk more wine than was strictly necessary, and that the liquor was not impossibly stronger than he had suspected. He felt, too, in the same vague way, that there had been a pa.s.sage of arms between his host and himself; but as to what it was about, and who was the victor, he had not the shadow of a conception.

Neither did his ordinary remedy of pouring the contents of his water-jug over his head aid him on this occasion.

"I'm not a bit sleepy; nonsense!" muttered he, "so I'll go and see what they are doing in the smoking-room."

Here he found the three young men of the house in that semi-thoughtful dreariness which is supposed to be the captivation of tobacco; as if the ma.s.s of young Englishmen needed anything to deepen the habitual gloom of their natures, or thicken the sluggish apathy that follows them into all inactivity.

"How jolly," cried Cutbill, as he entered. "I 'll be shot if I believed as I came up the stairs that there was any one here. You haven't even got brandy and seltzer."

"If you touch that bell, they 'll bring it," said Augustus, languidly.

"Some Moselle for me," said Temple, as the servant entered.

"I'm glad you've come, Cutty," cried Jack; "as old Kemp used to say, anything is better than a dead calm; even a mutiny."

"What an infernal old hurdy-gurdy! Why haven't you a decent piano here, if you have one at all?" said Cutbill, as he ran his hands over the keys of a discordant old instrument that actually shook on its legs as he struck the chords.

"I suspect it was mere accident brought it here," said Augustus. "It was invalided out of the girls' schoolroom, and sent up here to be got rid of."

"Sing us something, Cutty," said Jack; "it will be a real boon at this moment."

"I'll sing like a grove of nightingales for you, when I have wet my lips; but I am parched in the mouth, like a Cape parrot. I 've had two hours of your governor below stairs. Very dry work, I promise you."

"Did he offer you nothing to drink?" asked Jack.

"Yes, we had two bottles of very tidy claret. He called it 'Mouton.'"

"By Jove!" said Augustus, "you must have been high in the governor's favor to be treated to his 'Bra Mouton.'"

"We had a round with the gloves, nevertheless," said Cutbill, "and exchanged some ugly blows. I don't exactly know about what or how it began, or even how it ended; but I know there was a black eye somewhere.

He's pa.s.sionate, rather."

"He has the spirit that should animate every gentleman," said Temple.

"That's exactly what _I_ have. I 'll stand anything, I don't care what, if it be fun. Say it's a 'joke,' and you'll never see me show bad temper; but if any fellow tries it on with me because he fancies himself a swell, or has a handle to his name, he 'll soon discover his mistake.

Old Culduff began that way. You 'd laugh if you saw how he floundered out of the swamp afterwards."

"Tell us about it, Cutty," said Jack, encouragingly.

"I beg to say I should prefer not hearing anything which might, even by inference, reflect on a person holding Lord Culduff's position in my profession," said Temple, haughtily.

"Is that the quarter the wind 's in?" asked Cutbill, with a not very sober expression in his face.

"Sing us a song, Cutty. It will be better than all this sparring," said Jack.

"What shall it be?" said Cutbill, seating himself at the piano, and running over the keys with no small skill. "Shall I describe my journey to Ireland?"

"By all means let's hear it," said Augustus.

"I forget how it goes. Indeed, some verses I was making on the curate's sister have driven the others out of my head."

Jack drew nigh, and leaning over his shoulder, whispered something in his ear.

"What!" cried Cutbill, starting up; "he says he'll pitch me neck and crop out of the window."

"Not unless you deserve it--add that," said Jack, sternly.

"I must have an apology for those words, sir. I shall insist on your recalling them, and expressing your sincere regret for having ever used them."

"So you shall, Cutty. I completely forgot that this tower was ninety feet high; but I 'll pitch you downstairs, which will do as well."

There was a terrible gleam of earnestness in Jack's eye as he spoke this laughingly, which appalled Cutbill far more than any bl.u.s.ter, and he stammered out, "Let us have no practical jokes; they're bad taste. You'd be a great fool, admiral"--this was a familiarity he occasionally used with Jack--"you 'd be a great fool to quarrel with _me_. I can do more with the fellows at Somerset House than most men going; and when the day comes that they 'll give you a command, and you 'll want twelve or fifteen hundred to set you afloat, Tom Cutbill is not the worst man to know in the City. Not to say, that if things go right down here, I could help you to something very snug in our mine. Won't we come out strong then, eh?"

Here he rattled over the keys once more; and after humming to himself for a second or two, burst out with a rattling merry air, to which he sung,--

"With crests on our harness and breechin, In a carriage and four we shall roll, With a splendid French cook in the kitchen, If we only succeed to find coal, Coal!

If we only are sure to find coal."

"A barcarolle, I declare," said Lord Culduff, entering. "It was a good inspiration led me up here."

A jolly roar of laughter at his mistake welcomed him; and Cutty, with an aside, cried out, "He's deaf as a post," and continued,--

"If we marry, we 'll marry a beauty, If single we 'll try and control Our tastes within limits of duty, And make ourselves jolly with coal, Coal!

And make ourselves jolly with coal.

"They may talk of the mines of Golcondar, Or the shafts of Puebla del Sol; But to fill a man's pocket, I wonder If there's anything equal to coal, Coal!

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The Bramleighs of Bishop's Folly Part 16 summary

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