Chapter XII

by Frances Hodgson Burnett

　　A very few days after the dinner party at the Castle, almosteverybody in England who read the newspapers at all knew theromantic story of what had happened at Dorincourt. It made avery interesting story when it was told with all the details.There was the little American boy who had been brought to Englandto be Lord Fauntleroy, and who was said to be so fine andhandsome a little fellow, and to have already made people fond ofhim; there was the old Earl, his grandfather, who was so proud ofhis heir; there was the pretty young mother who had never beenforgiven for marrying Captain Errol; and there was the strangemarriage of Bevis, the dead Lord Fauntleroy, and the strangewife, of whom no one knew anything, suddenly appearing with herson, and saying that he was the real Lord Fauntleroy and musthave his rights. All these things were talked about and writtenabout, and caused a tremendous sensation. And then there camethe rumor that the Earl of Dorincourt was not satisfied with theturn affairs had taken, and would perhaps contest the claim bylaw, and the matter might end with a wonderful trial.There never had been such excitement before in the county inwhich Erleboro was situated. On market-days, people stood ingroups and talked and wondered what would be done; the farmers'wives invited one another to tea that they might tell one anotherall they had heard and all they thought and all they thoughtother people thought. They related wonderful anecdotes about theEarl's rage and his determination not to acknowledge the new LordFauntleroy, and his hatred of the woman who was the claimant'smother. But, of course, it was Mrs. Dibble who could tell themost, and who was more in demand than ever."An' a bad lookout it is," she said. "An' if you were to askme, ma'am, I should say as it was a judgment on him for the wayhe's treated that sweet young cre'tur' as he parted from herchild,--for he's got that fond of him an' that set on him an'that proud of him as he's a'most drove mad by what's happened.An' what's more, this new one's no lady, as his little lordship'sma is. She's a bold-faced, black-eyed thing, as Mr. Thomas saysno gentleman in livery 'u'd bemean hisself to be gave orders by;and let her come into the house, he says, an' he goes out of it.An' the boy don't no more compare with the other one than nothin'you could mention. An' mercy knows what's goin' to come of itall, an' where it's to end, an' you might have knocked me downwith a feather when Jane brought the news."In fact there was excitement everywhere at the Castle: in thelibrary, where the Earl and Mr. Havisham sat and talked; in theservants' hall, where Mr. Thomas and the butler and the other menand women servants gossiped and exclaimed at all times of theday; and in the stables, where Wilkins went about his work in aquite depressed state of mind, and groomed the brown pony morebeautifully than ever, and said mournfully to the coachman thathe "never taught a young gen'leman to ride as took to it morenat'ral, or was a better-plucked one than he was. He was a oneas it were some pleasure to ride behind."But in the midst of all the disturbance there was one person whowas quite calm and untroubled. That person was the little LordFauntleroy who was said not to be Lord Fauntleroy at all. Whenfirst the state of affairs had been explained to him, he had feltsome little anxiousness and perplexity, it is true, but itsfoundation was not in baffled ambition.While the Earl told him what had happened, he had sat on a stoolholding on to his knee, as he so often did when he was listeningto anything interesting; and by the time the story was finishedhe looked quite sober."It makes me feel very queer," he said; "it makes mefeel--queer!"The Earl looked at the boy in silence. It made him feel queer,too--queerer than he had ever felt in his whole life. And hefelt more queer still when he saw that there was a troubledexpression on the small face which was usually so happy."Will they take Dearest's house from her--and her carriage?"Cedric asked in a rather unsteady, anxious little voice."No!" said the Earl decidedly--in quite a loud voice, in fact."They can take nothing from her.""Ah!" said Cedric, with evident relief. "Can't they?"Then he looked up at his grandfather, and there was a wistfulshade in his eyes, and they looked very big and soft."That other boy," he said rather tremulously--"he will haveto--to be your boy now--as I was--won't he?""No!" answered the Earl--and he said it so fiercely and loudlythat Cedric quite jumped."No?" he exclaimed, in wonderment. "Won't he? Ithought----"He stood up from his stool quite suddenly."Shall I be your boy, even if I'm not going to be an earl?" hesaid. "Shall I be your boy, just as I was before?" And hisflushed little face was all alight with eagerness.How the old Earl did look at him from head to foot, to be sure!How his great shaggy brows did draw themselves together, and howqueerly his deep eyes shone under them--how very queerly!"My boy!" he said--and, if you'll believe it, his very voicewas queer, almost shaky and a little broken and hoarse, not atall what you would expect an Earl's voice to be, though he spokemore decidedly and peremptorily even than before,--"Yes, you'llbe my boy as long as I live; and, by George, sometimes I feel asif you were the only boy I had ever had."Cedric's face turned red to the roots of his hair; it turned redwith relief and pleasure. He put both his hands deep into hispockets and looked squarely into his noble relative's eyes."Do you?" he said. "Well, then, I don't care about the earlpart at all. I don't care whether I'm an earl or not. Ithought--you see, I thought the one that was going to be the Earlwould have to be your boy, too, and--and I couldn't be. That waswhat made me feel so queer."The Earl put his hand on his shoulder and drew him nearer."They shall take nothing from you that I can hold for you," hesaid, drawing his breath hard. "I won't believe yet that theycan take anything from you. You were made for the place,and--well, you may fill it still. But whatever comes, you shallhave all that I can give you--all!"It scarcely seemed as if he were speaking to a child, there wassuch determination in his face and voice; it was more as if hewere making a promise to himself--and perhaps he was.He had never before known how deep a hold upon him his fondnessfor the boy and his pride in him had taken. He had never seenhis strength and good qualities and beauty as he seemed to seethem now. To his obstinate nature it seemed impossible--morethan impossible--to give up what he had so set his heart upon.And he had determined that he would not give it up without afierce struggle.Within a few days after she had seen Mr. Havisham, the woman whoclaimed to be Lady Fauntleroy presented herself at the Castle,and brought her child with her. She was sent away. The Earlwould not see her, she was told by the footman at the door; hislawyer would attend to her case. It was Thomas who gave themessage, and who expressed his opinion of her freely afterward,in the servants' hall. He "hoped," he said, "as he had worelivery in 'igh famblies long enough to know a lady when he seeone, an' if that was a lady he was no judge o' females.""The one at the Lodge," added Thomas loftily, "'Merican or no'Merican, she's one o' the right sort, as any gentleman 'u'dreckinize with all a heye. I remarked it myself to Henery whenfust we called there."The woman drove away; the look on her handsome, common face halffrightened, half fierce. Mr. Havisham had noticed, during hisinterviews with her, that though she had a passionate temper, anda coarse, insolent manner, she was neither so clever nor so boldas she meant to be; she seemed sometimes to be almost overwhelmedby the position in which she had placed herself. It was as ifshe had not expected to meet with such opposition."She is evidently," the lawyer said to Mrs. Errol, "a personfrom the lower walks of life. She is uneducated and untrained ineverything, and quite unused to meeting people like ourselves onany terms of equality. She does not know what to do. Her visitto the Castle quite cowed her. She was infuriated, but she wascowed. The Earl would not receive her, but I advised him to gowith me to the Dorincourt Arms, where she is staying. When shesaw him enter the room, she turned white, though she flew into arage at once, and threatened and demanded in one breath."The fact was that the Earl had stalked into the room and stood,looking like a venerable aristocratic giant, staring at the womanfrom under his beetling brows, and not condescending a word. Hesimply stared at her, taking her in from head to foot as if shewere some repulsive curiosity. He let her talk and demand untilshe was tired, without himself uttering a word, and then he said:"You say you are my eldest son's wife. If that is true, and ifthe proof you offer is too much for us, the law is on your side.In that case, your boy is Lord Fauntleroy. The matter will besifted to the bottom, you may rest assured. If your claims areproved, you will be provided for. I want to see nothing ofeither you or the child so long as I live. The place willunfortunately have enough of you after my death. You are exactlythe kind of person I should have expected my son Bevis tochoose."And then he turned his back upon her and stalked out of the roomas he had stalked into it.Not many days after that, a visitor was announced to Mrs. Errol,who was writing in her little morning room. The maid, whobrought the message, looked rather excited; her eyes were quiteround with amazement, in fact, and being young and inexperienced,she regarded her mistress with nervous sympathy."It's the Earl hisself, ma'am!" she said in tremulous awe.When Mrs. Errol entered the drawing-room, a very tall,majestic-looking old man was standing on the tiger-skin rug. Hehad a handsome, grim old face, with an aquiline profile, a longwhite mustache, and an obstinate look."Mrs. Errol, I believe?" he said."Mrs. Errol," she answered."I am the Earl of Dorincourt," he said.He paused a moment, almost unconsciously, to look into heruplifted eyes. They were so like the big, affectionate, childisheyes he had seen uplifted to his own so often every day duringthe last few months, that they gave him a quite curioussensation."The boy is very like you," he said abruptly."It has been often said so, my lord," she replied, "but I havebeen glad to think him like his father also."As Lady Lorridaile had told him, her voice was very sweet, andher manner was very simple and dignified. She did not seem inthe least troubled by his sudden coming."Yes," said the Earl. "he is like--my son--too." He put hishand up to his big white mustache and pulled it fiercely. "Doyou know," he said, "why I have come here?""I have seen Mr. Havisham," Mrs. Errol began, "and he has toldme of the claims which have been made----""I have come to tell you," said the Earl, "that they will beinvestigated and contested, if a contest can be made. I havecome to tell you that the boy shall be defended with all thepower of the law. His rights----"The soft voice interrupted him."He must have nothing that is not his by right, even if the lawcan give it to him," she said."Unfortunately the law can not," said the Earl. "If it could,it should. This outrageous woman and her child----""Perhaps she cares for him as much as I care for Cedric, mylord," said little Mrs. Errol. "And if she was your eldestson's wife,her son is Lord Fauntleroy, and mine is not."She was no more afraid of him than Cedric had been, and shelooked at him just as Cedric would have looked, and he, havingbeen an old tyrant all his life, was privately pleased by it.People so seldom dared to differ from him that there was anentertaining novelty in it."I suppose," he said, scowling slightly, "that you would muchprefer that he should not be the Earl of Dorincourt."Her fair young face flushed."It is a very magnificent thing to be the Earl of Dorincourt, mylord," she said. "I know that, but I care most that he shouldbe what his father was--brave and just and true always.""In striking contrast to what his grandfather was, eh?" saidhis lordship sardonically."I have not had the pleasure of knowing his grandfather,"replied Mrs. Errol, "but I know my little boy believes----" Shestopped short a moment, looking quietly into his face, and thenshe added, "I know that Cedric loves you.""Would he have loved me," said the Earl dryly, "if you hadtold him why I did not receive you at the Castle?""No," answered Mrs. Errol, "I think not. That was why I didnot wish him to know.""Well," said my lord brusquely, "there are few women who wouldnot have told him."He suddenly began to walk up and down the room, pulling his greatmustache more violently than ever."Yes, he is fond of me," he said, "and I am fond of him. Ican't say I ever was fond of anything before. I am fond of him.He pleased me from the first. I am an old man, and was tired ofmy life. He has given me something to live for. I am proud ofhim. I was satisfied to think of his taking his place some dayas the head of the family."He came back and stood before Mrs. Errol."I am miserable," he said. "Miserable!"He looked as if he was. Even his pride could not keep his voicesteady or his hands from shaking. For a moment it almost seemedas if his deep, fierce eyes had tears in them. "Perhaps it isbecause I am miserable that I have come to you," he said, quiteglaring down at her. "I used to hate you; I have been jealousof you. This wretched, disgraceful business has changed that.After seeing that repulsive woman who calls herself the wife ofmy son Bevis, I actually felt it would be a relief to look atyou. I have been an obstinate old fool, and I suppose I havetreated you badly. You are like the boy, and the boy is thefirst object in my life. I am miserable, and I came to youmerely because you are like the boy, and he cares for you, and Icare for him. Treat me as well as you can, for the boy's sake."He said it all in his harsh voice, and almost roughly, butsomehow he seemed so broken down for the time that Mrs. Errol wastouched to the heart. She got up and moved an arm-chair a littleforward."I wish you would sit down," she said in a soft, pretty,sympathetic way. "You have been so much troubled that you arevery tired, and you need all your strength."It was just as new to him to be spoken to and cared for in thatgentle, simple way as it was to be contradicted. He was remindedof "the boy" again, and he actually did as she asked him.Perhaps his disappointment and wretchedness were good disciplinefor him; if he had not been wretched he might have continued tohate her, but just at present he found her a little soothing.Almost anything would have seemed pleasant by contrast with LadyFauntleroy; and this one had so sweet a face and voice, and apretty dignity when she spoke or moved. Very soon, through thequiet magic of these influences, he began to feel less gloomy,and then he talked still more."Whatever happens," he said, "the boy shall be provided for.He shall be taken care of, now and in the future."Before he went away, he glanced around the room."Do you like the house?" he demanded."Very much," she answered."This is a cheerful room," he said. "May I come here againand talk this matter over?""As often as you wish, my lord," she replied.And then he went out to his carriage and drove away, Thomas andHenry almost stricken dumb upon the box at the turn affairs hadtaken.