Mr. Percy and the Prophet, Page 4

  ‘On the contrary,’ said Percy, ‘I have the strongest personal interest in the conduct of the Ministry.’

  ‘How? in what way?’ cried Mr Bowmore eagerly.

  ‘My late father had a claim on Government,’ Percy answered, ‘for money expended in foreign service. As his heir, I inherit the claim, which has been formally recognised by the present Ministers. My petition for a settlement will be presented by friends of mine who can advocate my interests in the House of Commons.’

  Mr Bowmore took Percy’s hand, and shook it waimly.

  ‘In such a matter as this you cannot have too many friends to help you,’ he said. ‘I myself have some influence, as representing opinion outside the House; and I am entirely at your service. Come tomorrow, and let us talk over the details of your claim at my humble dinner-table. Today I must attend a meeting of the Branch-Hampden-Club, of which I am vice-president, and to which I am now about to communicate the alarming news which my letter contains. Excuse me for leaving you—and count on a hearty welcome when we see you to-morrow.’

  The amiable patriot saluted his daughter with a smile, and disappeared.

  ‘I hope you like my father?’ said Charlotte. ‘All our friends say he ought to be in Parliament. He has tried twice. The expenses were dreadful; and each time the other man defeated him. The agent says he would be certainly elected if he tried again; but there is no money, and we mustn’t think of it.’

  A man of a suspicious turn of mind might have discovered, in those artless words, the secret of Mr Bowmore’s interest in the success of his young friend’s claim on the Government. One British subject, with a sum of ready money at his command, may be an inestimably useful person to another British subject (without ready money) who cannot sit comfortably unless he sits in Parliament. But honest Percy Linwood was not a man of a suspicious turn of mind. He had just opened his lips to echo Charlotte’s filial glorification of her father, when a shabbily-dressed man-servant met them with a message, for which they were both alike unprepared:

  ‘Captain Bervie has called, Miss, to say good-bye, and my mistress requests your company in the parlour.’

  VIII THE WARNING

  Having delivered his little formula of words, the shabby servant cast a look of furtive curiosity at Percy and withdrew. Charlotte turned to her lover, with indignation sparkling in her eyes and flushing on her cheeks at the bare idea of seeing Captain Bervie again.

  ‘Does he think I will breathe the same air,’ she exclaimed, ‘with the man who attempted to take your life!’

  Percy gently remonstrated with her.

  ‘You are sadly mistaken,’ he said. ‘Captain Bervie stood to receive my fire as fairly as I stood to receive his. When I discharged my pistol in the air, he was the first man who ran up to me, and asked if I was seriously hurt. They told him my wound was a trifle; and he fell on his knees and thanked God for preserving my life from his guilty hand. “I am no longer the rival who hates you,” he said. “Give me time to try if change of scene will quiet my mind; and I will beyour brother, and her brother.” Whatever his faults may be, Charlotte, Arthur Bervie has a great heart. Go in, I entreat you, and be friends with him as I am.’

  Charlotte listened with downcast eyes and changing colour. ‘You believe him?’ she asked, in low trembling tones.

  ‘I believe him as I believe You,’ Percy answered.

  She secretly resented the comparison, and detested the Captain more heartily than ever.

  ‘I will go in and see him, if you wish it,’ she said. ‘But not by myself. I want you to come with me.’

  ‘Why?’ Percy asked.

  ‘I want to see what his face says, when you and he meet.

  ‘Do you still doubt him, Charlotte?’

  She made no reply. Percy had done his best to convince her, and had evidently failed.

  They went together into the cottage. Fixing her eyes steadily on the Captain’s face, Charlotte saw it turn pale when Percy followed her into the parlour. The two men greeted one another cordially. Charlotte sat down by her mother, preserving her composure so far as appearances went. ‘I hear you have called to bid us goodbye,’ she said to Bervie. ‘Is it to be a long absence?’

  ‘I have got two months’ leave,’ the Captain answered, without looking at her while he spoke.

  ‘Are you going abroad?’

  ‘Yes. I think so.’

  She turned away to her mother. Bervie seized the opportunity of speaking to Percy. ‘I have a word of advice for your private ear.’ At the same moment, Charlotte whispered to her mother: ‘Don’t encourage him to prolong his visit.’

  The Captain showed no intention to prolong his visit. To Charlotte’s surprise, when he took leave of the ladies, Percy also rose to go. ‘His carriage,’ he said, ‘was waiting at the door; and he had offered to take Captain Bervie back to London.’

  Charlotte instantly suspected an arrangement between the two men for a confidential interview. Her obstinate distrust of Bervie strengthened tenfold. She reluctantly gave him her hand, as he parted from her at the parlour-door. The effort of concealing her true feeling towards him, gave a colour and a vivacity to her face which made her irresistibly beautiful. Bervie looked at the woman whom he had lost with an immeasurable sadness in his eyes. ‘When we meet again,’ he said, ‘you will see me in a new character.’ He hurried out to the gate, as if he feared to trust himself for a moment longer in her presence.

  Charlotte followed Percy into the passage. ‘I shall be here to-morrow, dearest!’ he said, and tried to raise her hand to his lips. She abruptly drew it away. ‘Not that hand!’ she answered. ‘Captain Bervie has just touched it. Kiss the other!’

  ‘Do you still doubt the Captain?’ said Percy, amused by her petulance. She put her arm over his shoulder, and touched the plaster on his neck gently with her finger. ‘There’s one thing I don’t doubt,’ she said: ‘the Captain did that?

  Percy left her, laughing. At the front gate of the cottage, he found Arthur Bervie in conversation with the same shabbily-dressed man-servant who had announced the Captain’s visit to Charlotte.

  ‘What has become of the other servant?’ Bervie asked. ‘I mean the old man who has been with Mr Bowmore for so many years.’

  ‘He has left his situation, sir.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘As I understand, sir, he spoke disrespectfully to the master.’

  ‘Oh? And how came the master to hear ofyou?’

  ‘I advertised; and Mr Bowmore answered my advertisement.’

  Bervie looked hard at the man for a moment, and then joined Percy at the carriage door.

  The two gentlemen started for London.

  ‘What do you think of Mr Bowmore’s new servant?’ asked the Captain, as they drove away from the cottage. ‘I don’t like the look of the fellow.’

  ‘I didn’t particularly notice him,’ Percy answered.

  There was a pause. When the conversation was resumed, it turned on common-place subjects. The Captain looked uneasily out of the carriage window. Percy looked uneasily at the Captain.

  They had left Dartford about two miles behind them, when Percy noticed an old gabled house, sheltered by magnificent trees, and standing on an eminence well removed from the high-road. Carriages and saddle-horses were visible on the drive in front, and a flag was hoisted on a staff placed in the middle of the lawn.

  ‘Something seems to be going on there,’ Percy remarked. ‘A fine old house! Who does it belong to?’

  Bervie smiled. ‘It belongs to my father,’ he said. ‘He is chairman of the bench of local magistrates, and he receives his brother justices today, to celebrate the opening of the sessions.

  He stopped, and looked at Percy with some embarrassment. ‘I am afraid I have surprised and disappointed you,’ he resumed, abruptly changing the subject. ‘I told you when we met just now at Mr Bowmore’s cottage that I had something to say to you; and I have not yet said it. The truth is, I don’t feel sure whether I have been long enough you
r friend to take the liberty of advising you.’

  ‘Whatever your advice is,’ Percy answered, ‘trust me to take it kindly on my side.’

  Thus encouraged, the Captain spoke out.

  ‘You will probably pass much of your time at the cottage,’ he began, ‘and you will be thrown a great deal into Mr Bowmore’s society. I have known him for many years.

  Speaking from that knowledge, I most seriously warn you against him as a thoroughly unprincipled and thoroughly dangerous man.’

  This was strong language—and, naturally enough, Percy said so. The Captain justified his language.

  ‘Without alluding to Mr Bowmore’s politics,’ he went on, ‘I can tell you that the motive of everything he says and does is vanity. To the gratification of that one passion he would sacrifice you or me, his wife or his daughter, without hesitation and without remorse. His one desire is to get into Parliament. You are wealthy and you can help him.

  He will leave no effort untried to reach that end; and, if he gets you into political difficulties, he will desert you without scruple.’

  Percy made a last effort to take Mr Bowmore’s part—for the one irresistible reason that he was Charlotte’s father.

  ‘Pray don’t think I am unworthy of your kind interest in my welfare,’ he pleaded. ‘Can you tell me of any facts which justify what you have just said?’

  ‘I can tell you of three facts,’ Bervie answered. ‘Mr Bowmore belongs to one of the most revolutionary clubs in England; he has spoken rank sedition at public meetings; and his name is already in the black book at the Home Office. So much for the past. As to the future, if the rumour be true that Ministers mean to stop the insurrectionary risings among the population by suspending the Habeas Corpus Act, Mr Bowmore will certainly be in

  danger; and it may be my father’s duty to grant the warrant that apprehends him. Write to my father to verify what I have said, and I will forward your letter, by way of satisfying him that he can trust you. In the meantime, refuse to accept Mr Bowmore’s assistance in the matter of your claim on Parliament; and, above all things, stop him at the outset, when he tries to steal his way into your intimacy. I need not caution you to say nothing against him to his wife and daughter. His wily tongue has long since deluded them. Don’t let it deludeyou! Have you thought any more of our evening at Doctor Lagarde’s?’ he asked, abruptly changing the subject.

  ‘I hardly know,’ said Percy, still under the impression of the formidable warning which he had just received.

  ‘Let me jog your memory,’ the other continued. ‘You went on with the consultation by yourself, after I had left the Doctor’s house. It will be really doing me a favour, if you can call to mind what Lagarde saw in the trance—in my absence?’

  Thus entreated Percy roused himself. His memory of events was still fresh enough to answer the call that his friend had made on it. In describing what had happened, he accurately repeated all that the Doctor had said.

  Bervie dwelt on the words with alarm in his face as well as surprise.

  ‘A man like me, trying to persuade a woman like—,’ he checked himself, as if he was afraid to let Charlotte’s name pass his lips. ‘Trying to induce a woman to go away with me,’ he resumed, ‘and persuading her at last? Pray go on! What did the Doctor see next?’

  ‘He was too much exhausted, he said, to see any more.

  ‘Surely you returned to consult him again?’

  ‘No; I had had enough of it.’

  ‘When we get to London,’ said the Captain, ‘we shall pass along the Strand, on the way to your chambers. Will you kindly drop me at the turning that leads to the Doctor’s lodgings?’

  Percy looked at him in amazement. ‘You still take it seriously?’ he said.

  ‘Is it not serious?’ Bervie asked. ‘Have you and I, so far, not done exactly what this man saw us doing? Did we not meet, in the days when we were rivals (as he saw us meet), with the pistols in our hands? Did you not recognise his description of the lady when you met her at the ball, as I recognised it before you?’

  ‘Mere coincidences!’ Percy answered, quoting Charlotte’s opinion when they had spoken together of Doctor Lagarde, but taking care not to cite his authority. ‘How many thousand men have been crossed in love? How many thousand men have fought duels for love? How many thousand women choose blue for their favourite colour, and answer to the vague description of the lady whom the Doctor pretended to see?’

  ‘Say that it is so,’ Bervie rejoined. ‘The thing is remarkable, even from your point of view. And if more coincidences follow, the result will be more remarkable still.’

  Arrived at the Strand, Percy set the Captain down at the turning which led to the Doctor’s lodgings. ‘You will call on me or write me word, if anything remarkable happens,’ he said.

  ‘You shall hear from me without fail,’ Bervie replied.

  That night, the Captain’s pen performed the Captain’s promise, in few and startling words.

  Melancholy news! Madame Lagarde is dead. Nothing is known of her son but that he has left England. I have found out that he is a political exile. If he has ventured back to France, it is barely possible that I may hear something of him. I have friends at the English embassy in Paris who will help me to make enquiries; and I start for the Continent in a day or two. Write to me while I am away, to the care of my father, at ‘The Manor House, near Dartford.’ He will always know my address abroad, and will forward your letters. For your own sake, remember the warning I gave you this afternoon! Your faithful friend, A. B.

  IX OFFICIAL SECRETS

  There was a more serious reason than Bervie was aware of, at the time, for the warning which he had thought it his duty to address to Percy Linwood. The new footman who had entered Mr Bowmore’s service was a Spy.

  Well practised in the infamous vocation that he followed, the wretch had been chosen, by the Department of Secret Service at the Home Office, to watch the proceedings of Mr Bowmore and his friends, and to report the result to his superiors. It may not be amiss to add that the employment of paid spies and informers, by the English Government of that time, was openly acknowledged in the House of Lords, and was defended as a necessary measure in the speeches of Lord Redesdale and Lord Liverpool.

  The reports furnished by the Home Office Spy, under these circumstances, begin with the month of March, and take the form of a series ofnotes introduced as follows: Mr Secretary:

  Since I entered Mr Bowmore’ s service, I have the honour to inform you that my eyes and ears have been kept in a state of active observation; and I can further certify that my means of making myself useful in the future to my honourable employers are in no respect diminished. Not the slightest suspicion of my true character is felt by any person in the house.

  FIRST NOTE

  The young gentleman now on a visit to Mr Bowmore is, as you have been correctly informed, Mr Percy Linwood. Although he is engaged to be married to Miss Bowmore, he is not discreet enough to conceal a certain want of friendly feeling, on his part, towards her father. The young lady has noticed this, and has resented it. She accuses her lover of having allowed himself to be prejudiced against Mr Bowmore by some slanderous person unknown.

  Mr Percy’s clumsy defence of himself led (in my hearing) to a quarrel! Nothing but his prompt submission prevented the marriage engagement from being broken off.

  ‘If you showed a want of confidence in Me’ (I heard Miss Charlotte say), ‘I might forgive it. But when you show a want of confidence in a man so noble as my father, I have no mercy on you.’ After such an expression of filial sentiment as this, Mr Percy wisely took the readiest way of appealing to the lady’s indulgence. The young man has a demand on Parliament for moneys due to his father’s estate; and he pleased and flattered Miss Charlotte by asking Mr Bowmore to advise him as to the best means of asserting his claim. By way of advancing his political interests, Mr Bowmore introduced him to the

  local Hampden Club; and Miss Charlotte rewarded him with a generosity
which must not be passed over in silence. Her lover was permitted to put an engagement ring on her finger, and to kiss her afterwards to his heart’s content.

  SECOND NOTE

  Mr Percy has paid more visits to the Republican Club; and Justice Bervie (father of the Captain) has heard of it, and has written to his son. The result that might have been expected has followed. Captain Bervie announces his return to England, to exert his influence for political good against the influence of Mr Bowmore for political evil.

  In the meanwhile, Mr Percy’s claim has been brought before the House of Commons, and has been adjourned for further consideration in six months’ time. Both the gentlemen are indignant—especially Mr Bowmore. He has called a meeting of the Club to consider his young friend’s wrongs, and has proposed the election of Mr Percy as a member of that revolutionary society.

  THIRD NOTE

  Mr Percy has been elected. Captain Bervie has tried to awaken his mind to a sense of the danger that threatens him, if he persists in associating with his republican friends—and has utterly failed. Mr Bowmore and Mr Percy have made speeches at the Club, intended to force the latter gentleman’s claim on the immediate attention of Government. Mr Bowmore’s flow of frothy eloquence has its influence (as you know from our shorthand writers’ previous reports) on thousands of ignorant people. As it seems to me, the reasons for at once putting this man in prison are beyond dispute. Whether it is desirable to include Mr Percy in the order of arrest, I must not venture to decide. Let me only hint that his seditious speech rivals the more elaborate efforts of Mr Bowmore himself.

  So much for the present. I may now respectfully direct your attention to the future.

  On the second of April next, the Club assembles a public meeting, ‘in aid of British liberty,’ in a field near Dartford. Mr Bowmore is to preside, and is to be escorted afterwards to Westminster Hall on his way to plead Mr Percy’s cause, in his own person, before the House of Commons. He is quite serious in declaring that ‘the minions of Government dare not touch a hair of his head.’ Miss Charlotte agrees with her father.