One morning when I had done jingling about with my baskets of keys,as my beauty and I were walking round and round the garden Ihappened to turn my eyes towards the house and saw a long thinshadow going in which looked like Mr. Vholes. Ada had been tellingme only that morning of her hopes that Richard might exhaust hisardour in the Chancery suit by being so very earnest in it; andtherefore, not to damp my dear girl's spirits, I said nothing aboutMr. Vholes's shadow.
Presently came Charley, lightly winding among the bushes andtripping along the paths, as rosy and pretty as one of Flora'sattendants instead of my maid, saying, "Oh, if you please, miss,would you step and speak to Mr. Jarndyce!"It was one of Charley's peculiarities that whenever she was chargedwith a message she always began to deliver it as soon as shebeheld, at any distance, the person for whom it was intended.
Therefore I saw Charley asking me in her usual form of words to"step and speak" to Mr. Jarndyce long before I heard her. And whenI did hear her, she had said it so often that she was out ofbreath.
I told Ada I would make haste back and inquired of Charley as wewent in whether there was not a gentleman with Mr. Jarndyce. Towhich Charley, whose grammar, I confess to my shame, never did anycredit to my educational powers, replied, "Yes, miss. Him as comedown in the country with Mr. Richard."A more complete contrast than my guardian and Mr. Vholes I supposethere could not be. I found them looking at one another across atable, the one so open and the other so close, the one so broad andupright and the other so narrow and stooping, the one giving outwhat he had to say in such a rich ringing voice and the otherkeeping it in in such a cold-blooded, gasping, fish-like mannerthat I thought I never had seen two people so unmatched.
"You know Mr. Vholes, my dear," said my guardian. Not with thegreatest urbanity, I must say.
Mr. Vholes rose, gloved and buttoned up as usual, and seatedhimself again, just as he had seated himself beside Richard in thegig. Not having Richard to look at, he looked straight before him.
"Mr. Vholes," said my guardian, eyeing his black figure as if hewere a bird of ill omen, "has brought an ugly report of our mostunfortunate Rick." Laying a marked emphasis on "most unfortunate"as if the words were rather descriptive of his connexion with Mr.
Vholes.
I sat down between them; Mr. Vholes remained immovable, except thathe secretly picked at one of the red pimples on his yellow facewith his black glove.
"And as Rick and you are happily good friends, I should like toknow," said my guardian, "what you think, my dear. Would you be sogood as to--as to speak up, Mr. Vholes?"Doing anything but that, Mr. Vholes observed, "I have been sayingthat I have reason to know, Miss Summerson, as Mr. C.'sprofessional adviser, that Mr. C.'s circumstances are at thepresent moment in an embarrassed state. Not so much in point ofamount as owing to the peculiar and pressing nature of liabilitiesMr. C. has incurred and the means he has of liquidating or meetingthe same. I have staved off many little matters for Mr. C., butthere is a limit to staving off, and we have reached it. I havemade some advances out of pocket to accommodate theseunpleasantnesses, but I necessarily look to being repaid, for I donot pretend to be a man of capital, and I have a father to supportin the Vale of Taunton, besides striving to realize some littleindependence for three dear girls at home. My apprehension is, Mr.
C.'s circumstances being such, lest it should end in his obtainingleave to part with his commission, which at all events is desirableto be made known to his connexions."Mr. Vholes, who had looked at me while speaking, here emerged intothe silence he could hardly be said to have broken, so stifled washis tone, and looked before him again.
"Imagine the poor fellow without even his present resource," saidmy guardian to me. "Yet what can I do? You know him, Esther. Hewould never accept of help from me now. To offer it or hint at itwould be to drive him to an extremity, if nothing else did."Mr. Vholes hereupon addressed me again.
"What Mr. Jarndyce remarks, miss, is no doubt the case, and is thedifficulty. I do not see that anything is to be done, I do not saythat anything is to be done. Far from it. I merely come down hereunder the seal of confidence and mention it in order thateverything may be openly carried on and that it may not be saidafterwards that everything was not openly carried on. My wish isthat everything should be openly carried on. I desire to leave agood name behind me. If I consulted merely my own interests withMr. C., I should not be here. So insurmountable, as you must wellknow, would be his objections. This is not a professionalattendance. This can he charged to nobody. I have no interest init except as a member of society and a father--AND a son," said Mr.
Vholes, who had nearly forgotten that point.
It appeared to us that Mr. Vholes said neither more nor less thanthe truth in intimating that he sought to divide theresponsibility, such as it was, of knowing Richard's situation. Icould only suggest that I should go down to Deal, where Richard wasthen stationed, and see him, and try if it were possible to avertthe worst. Without consulting Mr. Vholes on this point, I took myguardian aside to propose it, while Mr. Vholes gauntly stalked tothe fire and warmed his funeral gloves.
The fatigue of the journey formed an immediate objection on myguardian's part, but as I saw he had no other, and as I was onlytoo happy to go, I got his consent. We had then merely to disposeof Mr. Vholes.
"Well, sir," said Mr. Jarndyce, "Miss Summerson will communicatewith Mr. Carstone, and you can only hope that his position may beyet retrievable. You will allow me to order you lunch after yourjourney, sir.""I thank you, Mr. Jarndyce," said Mr. Vholes, putting out his longblack sleeve to check the ringing of the bell, "not any. I thankyou, no, not a morsel. My digestion is much impaired, and I am buta poor knife and fork at any time. If I was to partake of solidfood at this period of the day, I don't know what the consequencesmight be. Everything having been openly carried on, sir, I willnow with your permission take my leave.""And I would that you could take your leave, and we could all takeour leave, Mr. Vholes," returned my guardian bitterly, "of a causeyou know of."Mr. Vholes, whose black dye was so deep from head to foot that ithad quite steamed before the fire, diffusing a very unpleasantperfume, made a short one-sided inclination of his head from theneck and slowly shook it.
"We whose ambition it is to be looked upon in the light ofrespectable practitioners, sir, can but put our shoulders to thewheel. We do it, sir. At least, I do it myself; and I wish tothink well of my professional brethren, one and all. You aresensible of an obligation not to refer to me, miss, incommunicating with Mr. C.?"I said I would be careful not to do it.
"Just so, miss. Good morning. Mr. Jarndyce, good morning, sir."Mr. Vholes put his dead glove, which scarcely seemed to have anyhand in it, on my fingers, and then on my guardian's fingers, andtook his long thin shadow away. I thought of it on the outside ofthe coach, passing over all the sunny landscape between us andLondon, chilling the seed in the ground as it glided along.
Of course it became necessary to tell Ada where I was going and whyI was going, and of course she was anxious and distressed. But shewas too true to Richard to say anything but words of pity and wordsof excuse, and in a more loving spirit still--my dear devotedgirl!--she wrote him a long letter, of which I took charge.
Charley was to be my travelling companion, though I am sure Iwanted none and would willingly have left her at home. We all wentto London that afternoon, and finding two places in the mail,secured them. At our usual bed-time, Charley and I were rollingaway seaward with the Kentish letters.
It was a night's journey in those coach times, but we had the mailto ourselves and did not find the night very tedious. It passedwith me as I suppose it would with most people under suchcircumstances. At one while my journey looked hopeful, and atanother hopeless. Now I thought I should do some good, and now Iwondered how I could ever have supposed so. Now it seemed one ofthe most reasonable things in the world that I should have come,and now one of the most unreasonable. In what state I should findRichard, what I should say to him, and what he would say to meoccupied my mind by turns with these two states of feeling; and thewheels seemed to play one tune (to which the burden of myguardian's letter set itself) over and over again all night.
At last we came into the narrow streets of Deal, and very gloomythey were upon a raw misty morning. The long flat beach, with itslittle irregular houses, wooden and brick, and its litter ofcapstans, and great boats, and sheds, and bare upright poles withtackle and blocks, and loose gravelly waste places overgrown withgrass and weeds, wore as dull an appearance as any place I eversaw. The sea was heaving under a thick white fog; and nothing elsewas moving but a few early ropemakers, who, with the yarn twistedround their bodies, looked as if, tired of their present state ofexistence, they were spinning themselves into cordage.
But when we got into a warm room in an excellent hotel and satdown, comfortably washed and dressed, to an early breakfast (for itwas too late to think of going to bed), Deal began to look morecheerful. Our little room was like a ship's cabin, and thatdelighted Charley very much. Then the fog began to rise like acurtain, and numbers of ships that we had had no idea were nearappeared. I don't know how many sail the waiter told us were thenlying in the downs. Some of these vessels were of grand size--onewas a large Indiaman just come home; and when the sun shone throughthe clouds, maktng silvery pools in the dark sea, the way in whichthese ships brightened, and shadowed, and changed, amid a bustle ofboats pulling off from the shore to them and from them to theshore, and a general life and motion in themselves and everythingaround them, was most beautiful.
The large Indiaman was our great attraction because she had comeinto the downs in the night. She was surrounded by boats, and wesaid how glad the people on board of her must be to come ashore.
Charley was curious, too, about the voyage, and about the heat inIndia, and the serpents and the tigers; and as she picked up suchinformation much faster than grammar, I told her what I knew onthose points. I told her, too, how people in such voyages weresometimes wrecked and cast on rocks, where they were saved by theintrepidity and humanity of one man. And Charley asking how thatcould be, I told her how we knew at home of such a case.
I had thought of sending Richard a note saying I was there, but itseemed so much better to go to him without preparation. As helived in barracks I was a little doubtful whether this wasfeasible, but we went out to reconnoitre. Peeping in at the gateof the barrack-yard, we found everything very quiet at that time inthe morning, and I asked a sergeant standing on the guardhouse-steps where he lived. He sent a man before to show me, who went upsome bare stairs, and knocked with his knuckles at a door, and leftus.
"Now then!" cried Richard from within. So I left Charley in thelittle passage, and going on to the half-open door, said, "Can Icome in, Richard? It's only Dame Durden."He was writing at a table, with a great confusion of clothes, tincases, books, boots, brushes, and portmanteaus strewn all about thefloor. He was only half dressed--in plain clothes, I observed, notin uniform--and his hair was unbrushed, and he looked as wild ashis room. All this I saw after he had heartily welcomed me and Iwas seated near him, for he started upon hearing my voice andcaught me in his arms in a moment. Dear Richard! He was ever thesame to me. Down to--ah, poor poor fellow!--to the end, he neverreceived me but with something of his old merry boyish manner.
"Good heaven, my dear little woman," said he, "how do you comehere? Who could have thought of seeing you! Nothing the matter?
Ada is well?""Quite well. Lovelier than ever, Richard!""Ah!" he said, lenning back in his chair. "My poor cousin! I waswriting to you, Esther."So worn and haggard as he looked, even in the fullness of hishandsome youth, leaning back in his chair and crushing the closelywritten sheet of paper in his hand!
"Have you been at the trouble of writing all that, and am I not toread it after all?" I asked.
"Oh, my dear," he returned with a hopeless gesture. "You may readit in the whole room. It is all over here."I mildly entreated him not to be despondent. I told him that I hadheard by chance of his being in difficulty and had come to consultwith him what could best be done.
"Like you, Esther, but useless, and so NOT like you!" said he witha melancholy smile. "I am away on leave this day--should have beengone in another hour--and that is to smooth it over, for my sellingout. Well! Let bygones be bygones. So this calling follows therest. I only want to have been in the church to have made theround of all the professions.""Richard," I urged, "it is not so hopeless as that?""Esther," he returned, "it is indeed. I am just so near disgraceas that those who are put in authority over me (as the catechismgoes) would far rather be without me than with me. And they areright. Apart from debts and duns and all such drawbacks, I am notfit even for this employment. I have no care, no mind, no heart,no soul, but for one thing. Why, if this bubble hadn't brokennow," he said, tearing the letter he had written into fragments andmoodily casting them away, by driblets, "how could I have goneabroad? I must have been ordered abroad, but how could I h............