The Fortunes Of Glencore Part 47

"They tell me so, and mine has a good reputation."

"Then claret be it, and no other wine. Don't I make myself at home, old fellow, eh?" said he, clapping Upton on the shoulder. "Have I not taken his Majesty's Emba.s.sy by storm, eh?"

"We surrender at discretion, only too glad to receive our vanquisher.

Well, and how do you find me looking? Be candid: how do I seem to your eyes?"

"Pretty much as I have seen you these last fifteen years,--not an hour older, at all events. That same delicacy of const.i.tution is a confounded deal better than most men's strong health, for it never wears out; but I have always said it, Upton will see us all down!"

Sir Horace sighed, as though this were too pleasant to be true.

"Well," said he, at last, "but you have not told me what good chance has brought you here. Is it the first post-station on the way to India?"

"No; they've taken me off the saddle, and given me a staff appointment at Corfu. I 'm going out second in command there; and whether it was to prevent my teasing them for something else, or that there was really some urgency in the matter, they ordered me off at once."

"Are they reinforcing the garrison there?" asked Upton.

"No; not so far as I have heard."

"It were better policy to do so than to send out a 'commander-in-chief and a drummer of great experience,'" muttered Upton to himself; but Harcourt could not catch the remark. "Have you any news stirring in England? What do the clubs talk about?" asked Sir Horace.

"Glencore's business occupied them for the last week or so; now, I think, it is yourself furnishes the chief topic for speculation."

"What of me?" asked Upton, eagerly.

"Why, the rumor goes that you are to have the Foreign Office; Adderley, they say, goes out, and Conway and yourself are the favorites, the odds being slightly on his side."

"This is all news to me, George," said Upton, with a degree of animation that had nothing fict.i.tious about it; "I have had a note from Adderley in the last bag, and there's not a word about these changes."

"Possibly; but perhaps my news is later. What I allude to is said to have occurred the day I started."

"Ah, very true; and now I remember that the messenger came round by Vienna, sent there by Adderley, doubtless," muttered he, "to consult Conway before seeing _me_; and, I have little doubt, with a letter for _me_ in the event of Conway declining."

"Well, have you hit upon the solution of it?" said Har-court, who had not followed him through his half-uttered observation.

"Perhaps so," said Upton, slowly, while he leaned his head upon his hand, and fell into a fit of meditation. Meanwhile, Harcourt's dinner made its appearance, and the Colonel seated himself at the table with a traveller's appet.i.te.

"Whenever any one has called you a selfish fellow, Upton," said he, as he helped himself twice from the same dish, "I have always denied it, and on this good ground, that, had you been so, you had never kept the best cook in Europe, while unable to enjoy his talents. What a rare artist must this be! What's his name?"

"Pipo, how is he called?" said Upton, languidly.

"Monsieur Carmael, your Excellency."

"Ah, to be sure; a person of excellent family. I've been told he's from Provence," said Upton, in the same weary voice.

"I could have sworn to his birthplace," cried Harcourt; "no man can manage cheese and olives in cookery but a Provencal. Ah, what a gla.s.s of Bordeaux! To your good health, Upton, and to the day that you may be able to enjoy this as I do," said he, as he tossed off a b.u.mper.

"It does me good even to witness the pleasure it yields," said Upton, blandly.

"By Jove! then, I 'll be worth a whole course of tonics to you, for I most thoroughly appreciate all the good things you have given me. By the way, how are you off for dinner company here,--any pleasant people?"

"I have no health for pleasant people, my dear Harcourt; like horse exercise, they only agree with you when you are strong enough not to require them."

"Then what have you got?" asked the Colonel, somewhat abashed.

"Princes, generals, envoys, and heads of departments."

"Good heavens! legions of honor and golden fleeces!"

"Just so," said Upton, smiling at the dismay in the other's countenance; "I have had such a party as you describe to-day. Are they gone yet, Franchetti?"

"They're at coffee, your Excellency, but the Prince has ordered his carriage."

"And you did not go near them?" asked Harcourt, in amazement.

"No; I was poorly, as you see me," said Upton, smiling. "Pipo tells me, however, that the dinner was a good one, and I am sure they pardon my absence."

"Foreign ease, I've no doubt; though I can't say I like it," muttered Harcourt. "At all events, it is not for _me_ to complain, since the accident has given me the pleasure of your society."

"You are about the only man I could have admitted," said Upton, with a certain graciousness of look and manner that, perhaps, detracted a little from its sincerity.

Fortunately, not so to Harcourt's eyes, for he accepted the speech in all honesty and good faith, as he said, "Thank you heartily, my boy. The welcome is better even than the dinner, and that is saying a good deal.

No more wine, thank you; I 'm going to have a cigar, and, with your leave, I 'll ask for some brandy and water."

This was addressed to Franchetti, who speedily reappeared with a liqueur stand and an ebony cigar-case.

"Try these, George; they 're better than your own," said Upton, dryly.

"That I will," cried Harcourt, laughing; "I'm determined to draw all my resources from the country in occupation, especially as they are superior to what I can obtain from home. This same career of yours, Upton, strikes me as rather a good thing. You have all these things duty free?"

"Yes, we have that privilege," said Upton, sighing.

"And the privilege of drawing some few thousand pounds per annum, paid messengers to and from England, secret-service money, and the rest of it, eh?"

Upton smiled, and sighed again.

"And what do you do for all that,--I mean, what are you expected to do?"

"Keep your party in when they are in; disconcert the enemy when your friends are out."

"And is that always a safe game?" asked Harcourt, eagerly.

"Not when played by unskilful players, my dear George. They occasionally make sad work, and get bowled out themselves for their pains; but there's no great harm in that neither."

"How do you mean there 's no harm in it?"

"Simply, that if a man can't keep his saddle, he ought n't to try to ride foremost; but these speculations will only puzzle you, my dear Harcourt. What of Glencore? You said awhile ago that the town was talking of him--how and wherefore was it?"

"Haven't you heard the story, then?"