In a postscript the Captain stated that he had in his possession a bank-note for a large amount, which Colonel Crawley had reason to suppose was the property of the Marquis of Steyne.And he was anxious, on the Colonel's behalf, to give up the note to its owner.
By the time this note was composed, the Captain's servant returned from his mission to Colonel Crawley's house in Curzon Street, but without the carpet-bag and portmanteau, for which he had been sent, and with a very puzzled and odd face.
"They won't give 'em up," said the man; "there's a regular shinty in the house, and everything at sixes and sevens.The landlord's come in and took possession.The servants was a drinkin' up in the drawingroom.They said--they said you had gone off with the plate, Colonel"--the man added after a pause--"One of the servants is off already.And Simpson, the man as was very noisy and drunk indeed, says nothing shall go out of the house until his wages is paid up."The account of this little revolution in May Fair astonished and gave a little gaiety to an otherwise very triste conversation.The two officers laughed at Rawdon's discomfiture.
"I'm glad the little 'un isn't at home," Rawdon said, biting his nails."You remember him, Mac, don't you, in the Riding School? How he sat the kicker to be sure!
didn't he?"
"That he did, old boy," said the good-natured Captain.
Little Rawdon was then sitting, one of fifty gown boys, in the Chapel of Whitefriars School, thinking, not about the sermon, but about going home next Saturday, when his father would certainly tip him and perhaps would take him to the play.
"He's a regular trump, that boy," the father went on, still musing about his son."I say, Mac, if anything goes wrong--if I drop--I should like you to--to go and see him, you know, and say that I was very fond of him, and that.And--dash it--old chap, give him these gold sleeve-buttons: it's all I've got." He covered his face with his black hands, over which the tears rolled and made furrows of white.Mr.Macmurdo had also occasion to take off his silk night-cap and rub it across his eyes.
"Go down and order some breakfast," he said to his man in a loud cheerful voice."What'll you have, Crawley?
Some devilled kidneys and a herring--let's say.And, Clay, lay out some dressing things for the Colonel: we were always pretty much of a size, Rawdon, my boy, and neither of us ride so light as we did when we first entered the corps." With which, and leaving the Colonel to dress himself, Macmurdo turned round towards the wall, and resumed the perusal of Bell's Life, until such time as his friend's toilette was complete and he was at liberty to commence his own.
This, as he was about to meet a lord, Captain Macmurdo performed with particular care.He waxed his mustachios into a state of brilliant polish and put on a tight cravat and a trim buff waistcoat, so that all the young officers in the mess-room, whither Crawley had preceded his friend, complimented Mac on his appearance at breakfast and asked if he was going to be married that Sunday.
CHAPIER LV
In Which the Same Subject is PursuedBecky did not rally from the state of stupor and confusion in which the events of the previous night had plunged her intrepid spirit until the bells of the Curzon Street Chapels were ringing for afternoon service, and rising from her bed she began to ply her own bell, in order to summon the French maid who had left her some hours before.
Mrs.Rawdon Crawley rang many times in vain; and though, on the last occasion, she rang with such vehemence as to pull down the bell-rope, Mademoiselle Fifine did not make her appearance--no, not though her mistress, in a great pet, and with the bell-rope in her hand, came out to the landing-place with her hair over her shoulders and screamed out repeatedly for her attendant.
The truth is, she had quitted the premises for many hours, and upon that permission which is called French leave among us After picking up the trinkets in the drawing-room, Mademoiselle had ascended to her own apartments, packed and corded her own boxes there, tripped out and called a cab for herself, brought down her trunks with her own hand, and without ever so much as asking the aid of any of the other servants, who would probably have refused it, as they hated her cordially, and without wishing any one of them good-bye, had made her exit from Curzon Street.
The game, in her opinion, was over in that little domestic establishment.Fifine went off in a cab, as we have known more exalted persons of her nation to do under similar circumstances: but, more provident or lucky than these, she secured not only her own property, but some of her mistress's (if indeed that lady could be said to have any property at all)--and not only carried off the trinkets before alluded to, and some favourite dresses on which she had long kept her eye, but four richly gilt Louis Quatorze candlesticks, six gilt albums, keepsakes, and Books of Beauty, a gold enamelled snuff-box which had once belonged to Madame du Barri, and the sweetest little inkstand and mother-of-pearl blotting book, which Becky used when she composed her charming little pink notes, had vanished from the premises in Curzon Street together with Mademoiselle Fifine, and all the silver laid on the table for the little festin which Rawdon interrupted.The plated ware Mademoiselle left behind her was too cumbrous, probably for which reason, no doubt, she also left the fire irons, the chimney-glasses, and the rosewood cottage piano.
