Chapter LV: In Which the Same Subject is Pursued

by William Makepeace Thackeray

　　Becky did not rally from the state of stupor and confusionin which the events of the previous night had plungedher intrepid spirit until the bells of the Curzon StreetChapels were ringing for afternoon service, and risingfrom her bed she began to ply her own bell, in order tosummon the French maid who had left her some hoursbefore.

　　Mrs. Rawdon Crawley rang many times in vain; andthough, on the last occasion, she rang with suchvehemence as to pull down the bell-rope, MademoiselleFifine did not make her appearance--no, not though hermistress, in a great pet, and with the bell-rope in her hand,came out to the landing-place with her hair over hershoulders and screamed out repeatedly for her attendant.

　　The truth is, she had quitted the premises for manyhours, and upon that permission which is called Frenchleave among us After picking up the trinkets in thedrawing-room, Mademoiselle had ascended to her ownapartments, packed and corded her own boxes there,tripped out and called a cab for herself, brought downher trunks with her own hand, and without ever so muchas asking the aid of any of the other servants, who wouldprobably have refused it, as they hated her cordially,and without wishing any one of them good-bye, hadmade her exit from Curzon Street.

　　The game, in her opinion, was over in that littledomestic establishment. Fifine went off in a cab, as wehave known more exalted persons of her nation to dounder similar circumstances: but, more provident orlucky than these, she secured not only her own property,but some of her mistress's (if indeed that lady could besaid to have any property at all)--and not only carriedoff the trinkets before alluded to, and some favouritedresses on which she had long kept her eye, but fourrichly gilt Louis Quatorze candlesticks, six gilt albums,keepsakes, and Books of Beauty, a gold enamelledsnuff-box which had once belonged to Madame du Barri, andthe sweetest little inkstand and mother-of-pearl blottingbook, which Becky used when she composed her charminglittle pink notes, had vanished from the premises inCurzon Street together with Mademoiselle Fifine, and allthe silver laid on the table for the little festin whichRawdon interrupted. The plated ware Mademoiselle leftbehind her was too cumbrous, probably for whichreason, no doubt, she also left the fire irons, thechimney-glasses, and the rosewood cottage piano.

　　A lady very like her subsequently kept a milliner'sshop in the Rue du Helder at Paris, where she lived withgreat credit and enjoyed the patronage of my LordSteyne. This person always spoke of England as of themost treacherous country in the world, and stated to heryoung pupils that she had been affreusement vole bynatives of that island. It was no doubt compassion forher misfortunes which induced the Marquis of Steyne tobe so very kind to Madame de Saint-Amaranthe. Mayshe flourish as she deserves--she appears no more in ourquarter of Vanity Fair.

　　Hearing a buzz and a stir below, and indignant at theimpudence of those servants who would not answer hersummons, Mrs. Crawley flung her morning robe roundher and descended majestically to the drawing-room,whence the noise proceeded.

　　The cook was there with blackened face, seated on thebeautiful chintz sofa by the side of Mrs. Raggles, to whomshe was administering Maraschino. The page with thesugar-loaf buttons, who carried about Becky's pinknotes, and jumped about her little carriage with suchalacrity, was now engaged putting his fingers into acream dish; the footman was talking to Raggles, whohad a face full of perplexity and woe--and yet, thoughthe door was open, and Becky had been screaming ahalf-dozen of times a few feet off, not one of herattendants had obeyed her call. "Have a little drop, do'eenow, Mrs. Raggles," the cook was saying as Beckyentered, the white cashmere dressing-gown flouncingaround her.

　　"Simpson! Trotter!" the mistress of the house cried ingreat wrath. "How dare you stay here when you heardme call? How dare you sit down in my presence? Where'smy maid?" The page withdrew his fingers from his mouthwith a momentary terror, but the cook took off a glassof Maraschino, of which Mrs. Raggles had had enough,staring at Becky over the little gilt glass as she drainedits contents. The liquor appeared to give the odious rebelcourage.

　　"Your sofy, indeed!" Mrs. Cook said. "I'm a settin' onMrs. Raggles's sofy. Don't you stir, Mrs. Raggles, Mum.I'm a settin' on Mr. and Mrs. Raggles's sofy, which theybought with honest money, and very dear it cost 'em,too. And I'm thinkin' if I set here until I'm paid mywages, I shall set a precious long time, Mrs. Raggles;and set I will, too--ha! ha!" and with this she filledherself another glass of the liquor and drank it with a morehideously satirical air.

　　"Trotter! Simpson! turn that drunken wretch out,"screamed Mrs. Crawley.

　　"I shawn't," said Trotter the footman; "turn outyourself. Pay our selleries, and turn me out too. We'llgo fast enough."

　　"Are you all here to insult me?" cried Becky in a fury;"when Colonel Crawley comes home I'll--"

　　At this the servants burst into a horse haw-haw, inwhich, however, Raggles, who still kept a most melancholy countenance, did not join. "He ain't a coming back,"Mr. Trotter resumed. "He sent for his things, and Iwouldn't let 'em go, although Mr. Raggles would; and Idon't b'lieve he's no more a Colonel than I am. He'shoff, and I suppose you're a goin' after him. You're nobetter than swindlers, both on you. Don't be a bullyin'me. I won't stand it. Pay us our selleries, I say. Pay usour selleries." It was evident, from Mr. Trotter's flushedcountenance and defective intonation, that he, too, hadhad recourse to vinous stimulus.

　　"Mr. Raggles," said Becky in a passion of vexation,"you will not surely let me be insulted by that drunkenman?" "Hold your noise, Trotter; do now," said Simpsonthe page. He was affected by his mistress's deplorablesituation, and succeeded in preventing an outrageousdenial of the epithet "drunken" on the footman's part.

　　"Oh, M'am," said Raggles, "I never thought to live tosee this year day: I've known the Crawley family eversince I was born. I lived butler with Miss Crawley forthirty years; and I little thought one of that family wasa goin' to ruing me--yes, ruing me"--said the poor fellowwith tears in his eyes. "Har you a goin' to pay me? You'velived in this 'ouse four year. You've 'ad my substance:my plate and linning. You ho me a milk and butter billof two 'undred pound, you must 'ave noo laid heggs foryour homlets, and cream for your spanil dog."

　　"She didn't care what her own flesh and blood had,"interposed the cook. "Many's the time, he'd have starvedbut for me."

　　"He's a charaty-boy now, Cooky," said Mr. Trotter,with a drunken "ha! ha!"--and honest Raggles continued,in a lamentable tone, an enumeration of his griefs. All hesaid was true. Becky and her husband had ruined him.He had bills coming due next week and no means to meetthem. He would be sold up and turned out of his shopand his house, because he had trusted to the Crawleyfamily. His tears and lamentations made Becky morepeevish than ever.

　　"You all seem to be against me," she said bitterly."What do you want? I can't pay you on Sunday. Comeback to-morrow and I'll pay you everything. I thoughtColonel Crawley had settled with you. He will to-morrow.I declare to you upon my honour that he left home thismorning with fifteen hundred pounds in his pocket-book.He has left me nothing. Apply to him. Give me a bonnetand shawl and let me go out and find him. There was adifference between us this morning. You all seem toknow it. I promise you upon my word that you shall allbe paid. He has got a good appointment. Let me go outand find him.''

　　This audacious statement caused Raggles and the otherpersonages present to look at one another with a wildsurprise, and with it Rebecca left them. She went upstairsand dressed herself this time without the aid of her Frenchmaid. She went into Rawdon's room, and there saw thata trunk and bag were packed ready for removal, with apencil direction that they should be given when calledfor; then she went into the Frenchwoman's garret;everything was clean, and all the drawers emptied there.She bethought herself of the trinkets which had been left onthe ground and felt certain that the woman had fled."Good Heavens! was ever such ill luck as mine?" shesaid; "to be so near, and to lose all. Is it all too late?"No; there was one chance more.

　　She dressed herself and went away unmolested thistime, but alone. It was four o'clock. She went swiftlydown the streets (she had no money to pay for acarriage), and never stopped until she came to Sir PittCrawley's door, in Great Gaunt Street. Where was LadyJane Crawley? She was at church. Becky was not sorry.Sir Pitt was in his study, and had given orders not to bedisturbed--she must see him--she slipped by the sentinelin livery at once, and was in Sir Pitt's room before theastonished Baronet had even laid down the paper.

　　He turned red and started back from her with a lookof great alarm and horror.

　　"Do not look so," she said. "I am not guilty, Pitt, dearPitt; you were my friend once. Before God, I am notguilty. I seem so. Everything is against me. And oh! atsuch a moment! just when all my hopes were about to berealized: just when happiness was in store for us."

　　"Is this true, what I see in the paper then?" Sir Pittsaid--a paragraph in which had greatly surprised him.

　　"It is true. Lord Steyne told me on Friday night, thenight of that fatal ball. He has been promised anappointment any time these six months. Mr. Martyr, theColonial Secretary, told him yesterday that it was made out.That unlucky arrest ensued; that horrible meeting. I was onlyguilty of too much devotedness to Rawdon's service. Ihave received Lord Steyne alone a hundred times before.I confess I had money of which Rawdon knew nothing.Don't you know how careless he is of it, and could I dareto confide it to him?" And so she went on with aperfectly connected story, which she poured into the earsof her perplexed kinsman.

　　It was to the following effect. Becky owned, and withprefect frankness, but deep contrition, that havingremarked Lord Steyne's partiality for her (at the mentionof which Pitt blushed), and being secure of her ownvirtue, she had determined to turn the great peer'sattachment to the advantage of herself and her family. "Ilooked for a peerage for you, Pitt," she said (the brother-in-law again turned red). "We have talked about it. Yourgenius and Lord Steyne's interest made it more thanprobable, had not this dreadful calamity come to put anend to all our hopes. But, first, I own that it was myobject to rescue my dear husband--him whom I love inspite of all his ill usage and suspicions of me--to removehim from the poverty and ruin which was impending overus. I saw Lord Steyne's partiality for me," she said,casting down her eyes. "I own that I did everything inmy power to make myself pleasing to him, and as far asan honest woman may, to secure his--his esteem. It wasonly on Friday morning that the news arrived of thedeath of the Governor of Coventry Island, and my Lordinstantly secured the appointment for my dear husband.It was intended as a surprise for him--he was to see it inthe papers to-day. Even after that horrid arrest tookplace (the expenses of which Lord Steyne generouslysaid he would settle, so that I was in a manner preventedfrom coming to my husband's assistance), my Lord waslaughing with me, and saying that my dearest Rawdonwould be consoled when he read of his appointment inthe paper, in that shocking spun--bailiff's house. Andthen--then he came home. His suspicions were excited,--the dreadful scene took place between my Lord andmy cruel, cruel Rawdon--and, O my God, what willhappen next? Pitt, dear Pitt! pity me, and reconcile us!"And as she spoke she flung herself down on her knees,and bursting into tears, seized hold of Pitt's hand, whichshe kissed passionately.

　　It was in this very attitude that Lady Jane, who,returning from church, ran to her husband's room directlyshe heard Mrs. Rawdon Crawley was closeted there,found the Baronet and his sister-in-law.

　　"I am surprised that woman has the audacity to enterthis house," Lady Jane said, trembling in every limband turning quite pale. (Her Ladyship had sent out hermaid directly after breakfast, who had communicatedwith Raggles and Rawdon Crawley's household, who hadtold her all, and a great deal more than they knew, ofthat story, and many others besides). "How dare Mrs.Crawley to enter the house of--of an honest family?"

　　Sir Pitt started back, amazed at his wife's display ofvigour. Becky still kept her kneeling posture and clungto Sir Pitt's hand.

　　"Tell her that she does not know all: Tell her that Iam innocent, dear Pitt," she whimpered out.

　　"Upon-my word, my love, I think you do Mrs. Crawleyinjustice," Sir Pitt said; at which speech Rebecca wasvastly relieved. "Indeed I believe her to be--"

　　"To be what?" cried out Lady Jane, her clear voicethrilling and, her heart beating violently as she spoke."To be a wicked woman--a heartless mother, a falsewife? She never loved her dear little boy, who used tofly here and tell me of her cruelty to him. She nevercame into a family but she strove to bring misery withher and to weaken the most sacred affections with herwicked flattery and falsehoods. She has deceived herhusband, as she has deceived everybody; her soul is blackwith vanity, worldliness, and all sorts of crime. I tremblewhen I touch her. I keep my children out of her sight.

　　"Lady Jane!" cried Sir Pitt, starting up, "this is reallylanguage--"

　　"I have been a true and faithful wife to you, SirPitt," Lady Jane continued, intrepidly; "I have kept mymarriage vow as I made it to God and have beenobedient and gentle as a wife should. But righteousobedience has its limits, and I declare that I will not bearthat--that woman again under my roof; if she enters it,I and my children will leave it. She is not worthy to sitdown with Christian people. You--you must choose, sir,between her and me"; and with this my Lady swept outof the room, fluttering with her own audacity, and leavingRebecca and Sir Pitt not a little astonished at it.

　　As for Becky, she was not hurt; nay, she was pleased."It was the diamond-clasp you gave me," she said to SirPitt, reaching him out her hand; and before she left him(for which event you may be sure my Lady Jane waslooking out from her dressing-room window in the upperstory) the Baronet had promised to go and seek out hisbrother, and endeavour to bring about a reconciliation.

　　Rawdon found some of the young fellows of the regimentseated in the mess-room at breakfast, and wasinduced without much difficulty to partake of that meal,and of the devilled legs of fowls and soda-water withwhich these young gentlemen fortified themselves. Thenthey had a conversation befitting the day and their timeof life: about the next pigeon-match at Battersea, withrelative bets upon Ross and Osbaldiston; aboutMademoiselle Ariane of the French Opera, and who had lefther, and how she was consoled by Panther Carr; andabout the fight between the Butcher and the Pet, and theprobabilities that it was a cross. Young Tandyman, ahero of seventeen, laboriously endeavouring to get up apair of mustachios, had seen the fight, and spoke in themost scientific manner about the battle and the conditionof the men. It was he who had driven the Butcher on tothe ground in his drag and passed the whole of theprevious night with him. Had there not been foul playhe must have won it. All the old files of the Ring were init; and Tandyman wouldn't pay; no, dammy, he wouldn'tpay. It was but a year since the young Cornet, now soknowing a hand in Cribb's parlour, had a still lingeringliking for toffy, and used to be birched at Eton.

　　So they went on talking about dancers, fights, drinking,demireps, until Macmurdo came down and joined theboys and the conversation. He did not appear to thinkthat any especial reverence was due to their boyhood;the old fellow cut in with stories, to the full as choiceas any the youngest rake present had to tell--nor did hisown grey hairs nor their smooth faces detain him. OldMac was famous for his good stories. He was not exactlya lady's man; that is, men asked him to dine rather atthe houses of their mistresses than of their mothers.There can scarcely be a life lower, perhaps, than his,but he was quite contented with it, such as it was, andled it in perfect good nature, simplicity, and modesty ofdemeanour.

　　By the time Mac had finished a copious breakfast,most of the others had concluded their meal. Young LordVarinas was smoking an immense Meerschaum pipe,while Captain Hugues was employed with a cigar: thatviolent little devil Tandyman, with his little bull-terrierbetween his legs, was tossing for shillings with all hismight (that fellow was always at some game or other)against Captain Deuceace; and Mac and Rawdon walkedoff to the Club, neither, of course, having given any hintof the business which was occupying their minds. Both,on the other hand, had joined pretty gaily in theconversation, for why should they interrupt it? Feasting,drinking, ribaldry, laughter, go on alongside of all sortsof other occupations in Vanity Fair--the crowds werepouring out of church as Rawdon and his friend passeddown St. James's Street and entered into their Club.

　　The old bucks and habitues, who ordinarily standgaping and grinning out of the great front window of theClub, had not arrived at their posts as yet--thenewspaper-room was almost empty. One man was presentwhom Rawdon did not know; another to whom he oweda little score for whist, and whom, in consequence, hedid not care to meet; a third was reading the Royalist(a periodical famous for its scandal and its attachmentto Church and King) Sunday paper at the table, andlooking up at Crawley with some interest, said, "Crawley,I congratulate you."

　　"What do you mean?" said the Colonel.

　　"It's in the Observer and the Royalist too," said Mr.Smith.

　　"What?" Rawdon cried, turning very red. He thoughtthat the affair with Lord Steyne was already in thepublic prints. Smith looked up wondering and smilingat the agitation which the Colonel exhibited as he tookup the paper and, trembling, began to read.

　　Mr. Smith and Mr. Brown (the gentleman with .whomRawdon had the outstanding whist account) had beentalking about the Colonel just before he came in.

　　"It is come just in the nick of time," said Smith. "Isuppose Crawley had not a shilling in the world."

　　"It's a wind that blows everybody good," Mr. Brownsaid. "He can't go away without paying me a pony heowes me."

　　"What's the salary?" asked Smith.

　　"Two or three thousand," answered the other. "Butthe climate's so infernal, they don't enjoy it long.Liverseege died after eighteen months of it, and theman before went off in six weeks, I hear."

　　"Some people say his brother is a very clever man. Ialways found him a d-- bore," Smith ejaculated. "Hemust have good interest, though. He must have got theColonel the place."

　　"He!" said Brown. with a sneer. "Pooh. It was LordSteyne got it.

　　"How do you mean?"

　　"A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband,"answered the other enigmatically, and went to read hispapers.

　　Rawdon, for his part, read in the Royalist the followingastonishing paragraph:

　　Governorship of Coventry Island.--H.M.S.Yellowjack, Commander Jaunders, has brought letters andpapers from Coventry Island. H. E. Sir ThomasLiverseege had fallen a victim to the prevailing fever atSwampton. His loss is deeply felt in the flourishingcolony. We hear that the Governorship has been offered toColonel Rawdon Crawley, C.B., a distinguished Waterlooofficer. We need not only men of acknowledgedbravery, but men of administrative talents to superintendthe affairs of our colonies, and we have no doubtthat the gentleman selected by the Colonial Office tofill the lamented vacancy which has occurred atCoventry Island is admirably calculated for the post whichhe is about to occupy."

　　"Coventry Island! Where was it? Who had appointedhim to the government? You must take me out as yoursecretary, old boy," Captain Macmurdo said laughing;and as Crawley and his friend sat wondering andperplexed over the announcement, the Club waiter broughtin to the Colonel a card on which the name of Mr.Wenham was engraved, who begged to see ColonelCrawley.

　　The Colonel and his aide-de-camp went out to meetthe gentleman, rightly conjecturing that he was anemissary of Lord Steyne. "How d'ye do, Crawley? I amglad to see you," said Mr. Wenham with a bland smile,and grasping Crawley's hand with great cordiality.

　　"You come, I suppose, from-- "

　　"Exactly," said Mr. Wenham.

　　"Then this is my friend Captain Macmurdo, of the LifeGuards Green."

　　"Delighted to know Captain Macmurdo, I'm sure," Mr.Wenham said and tendered another smile and shake ofthe hand to the second, as he had done to the principal.Mac put out one finger, armed with a buckskin glove,and made a very frigid bow to Mr. Wenham over histight cravat. He was, perhaps, discontented at being putin communication with a pekin, and thought that LordSteyne should have sent him a Colonel at the very least.

　　"As Macmurdo acts for me, and knows what I mean,"Crawley said, "I had better retire and leave you together."

　　"Of course," said Macmurdo.

　　"By no means, my dear Colonel," Mr. Wenham said;"the interview which I had the honour of requesting waswith you personally, though the company of CaptainMacmurdo cannot fail to be also most pleasing. In fact,Captain, I hope that our conversation will lead to nonebut the most agreeable results, very different from thosewhich my friend Colonel Crawley appears to anticipate."

　　"Humph!" said Captain Macmurdo. Be hanged to thesecivilians, he thought to himself, they are always forarranging and speechifying. Mr. Wenham took a chairwhich was not offered to him--took a paper from hispocket, and resumed--

　　"You have seen this gratifying announcement in thepapers this morning, Colonel? Government has secureda most valuable servant, and you, if you accept office, asI presume you will, an excellent appointment. Threethousand a year, delightful climate, excellent government-house, all your own way in the Colony, and a certainpromotion. I congratulate you with all my heart. Ipresume you know, gentlemen, to whom my friend isindebted for this piece of patronage?"

　　"Hanged if I know," the Captain said; his principalturned very red.

　　"To one of the most generous and kindest men in theworld, as he is one of the greatest--to my excellentfriend, the Marquis of Steyne."

　　"I'll see him d-- before I take his place," growledout Rawdon.

　　"You are irritated against my noble friend," Mr.Wenham calmly resumed; "and now, in the name ofcommon sense and justice, tell me why?"

　　"Why?" cried Rawdon in surprise.

　　"Why? Dammy!" said the Captain, ringing his stickon the ground.

　　"Dammy, indeed," said Mr. Wenham with the mostagreeable smile; "still, look at the matter as a man ofthe world--as an honest man--and see if you have notbeen in the wrong. You come home from a journey, andfind--what?--my Lord Steyne supping at your house inCurzon Street with Mrs. Crawley. Is the circumstancestrange or novel? Has he not been a hundred timesbefore in the same position? Upon my honour and wordas a gentleman"--Mr. Wenham here put his hand onhis waistcoat with a parliamentary air--"I declare I thinkthat your suspicions are monstrous and utterlyunfounded, and that they injure an honourable gentlemanwho has proved his good-will towards you by a thousandbenefactions--and a most spotless and innocent lady."

　　"You don't mean to say that--that Crawley'smistaken?" said Mr. Macmurdo.

　　"I believe that Mrs. Crawley is as innocent as mywife, Mrs. Wenham," Mr. Wenham said with greatenergy. "I believe that, misled by an infernal jealousy,my friend here strikes a blow against not only an infirmand old man of high station, his constant friend andbenefactor, but against his wife, his own dearest honour,his son's future reputation, and his own prospects inlife."

　　"I will tell you what happened," Mr. Wenhamcontinued with great solemnity; "I was sent for thismorning by my Lord Steyne, and found him in a pitiable state,as, I need hardly inform Colonel Crawley, any man ofage and infirmity would be after a personal conflict witha man of your strength. I say to your face; it was acruel advantage you took of that strength, ColonelCrawley. It was not only the body of my noble andexcellent friend which was wounded--his heart, sir, wasbleeding. A man whom he had loaded with benefits andregarded with affection had subjected him to the foulestindignity. What was this very appointment, which appearsin the journals of to-day, but a proof of his kindness toyou? When I saw his Lordship this morning I found himin a state pitiable indeed to see, and as anxious as youare to revenge the outrage committed upon him, byblood. You know he has given his proofs, I presume,Colonel Crawley?"

　　"He has plenty of pluck," said the Colonel. "Nobodyever said he hadn't."

　　"His first order to me was to write a letter ofchallenge, and to carry it to Colonel Crawley. One orother of us," he said, "must not survive the outrageof last night."

　　Crawley nodded. "You're coming to the point,Wenham," he said.

　　"I tried my utmost to calm Lord Steyne. Good God!sir," I said, "how I regret that Mrs. Wenham and myselfhad not accepted Mrs. Crawley's invitation to sup withher!"

　　"She asked you to sup with her?" Captain Macmurdosaid.

　　"After the opera. Here's the note of invitation--stop--no, this is another paper--I thought I had h, but it'sof no consequence, and I pledge you my word to thefact. If we had come--and it was only one of Mrs.Wenham's headaches which prevented us--she suffersunder them a good deal, especially in the spring--if wehad come, and you had returned home, there would havebeen no quarrel, no insult, no suspicion--and so it ispositively because my poor wife has a headache that youare to bring death down upon two men of honour andplunge two of the most excellent and ancient familiesin the kingdom into disgrace and sorrow."

　　Mr. Macmurdo looked at his principal with the airof a man profoundly puzzled, and Rawdon felt with akind of rage that his prey was escaping him. He did notbelieve a word of the story, and yet, how discredit ordisprove it?

　　Mr. Wenham continued with the same fluent oratory,which in his place in Parliament he had so oftenpractised--"I sat for an hour or more by Lord Steyne'sbedside, beseeching, imploring Lord Steyne to forego hisintention of demanding a meeting. I pointed out to himthat the circumstances were after all suspicious--theywere suspicious. I acknowledge it--any man in yourposition might have been taken in--I said that a manfurious with jealousy is to all intents and purposes amadman, and should be as such regarded--that a duelbetween you must lead to the disgrace of all partiesconcerned--that a man of his Lordship's exalted station hadno right in these days, when the most atrociousrevolutionary principles, and the most dangerous levellingdoctrines are preached among the vulgar, to create apublic scandal; and that, however innocent, the commonpeople would insist that he was guilty. In fine, Iimplored him not to send the challenge."

　　"I don't believe one word of the whole story," saidRawdon, grinding his teeth. "I believe it a d-- lie, andthat you're in it, Mr. Wenham. If the challenge don'tcome from him, by Jove it shall come from me."

　　Mr. Wenham turned deadly pale at this savageinterruption of the Colonel and looked towards the door.

　　But he found a champion in Captain Macmurdo. Thatgentleman rose up with an oath and rebuked Rawdonfor his language. "You put the affair into my hands, andyou shall act as I think fit, by Jove, and not as you do.You have no right to insult Mr. Wenham with this sortof language; and dammy, Mr. Wenham, you deserve anapology. And as for a challenge to Lord Steyne, youmay get somebody else to carry it, I won't. If my lord,after being thrashed, chooses to sit still, dammy let him.And as for the affair with--with Mrs. Crawley, mybelief is, there's nothing proved at all: that your wife'sinnocent, as innocent as Mr. Wenham says she is; and atany rate that you would be a d--fool not to take theplace and hold your tongue."

　　"Captain Macmurdo, you speak like a man of sense,"Mr. Wenham cried out, immensely relieved--"I forgetany words that Colonel Crawley has used in theirritation of the moment."

　　"I thought you would," Rawdon said with a sneer.

　　"Shut your mouth, you old stoopid," the Captain saidgood-naturedly. "Mr. Wenham ain't a fighting man; andquite right, too."

　　"This matter, in my belief," the Steyne emissary cried,"ought to be buried in the most profound oblivion. Aword concerning it should never pass these doors. Ispeak in the interest of my friend, as well as of ColonelCrawley, who persists in considering me his enemy."

　　"I suppose Lord Steyne won't talk about it verymuch," said Captain Macmurdo; "and I don't see whyour side should. The affair ain't a very pretty one, anyway you take it, and the less said about it the better.It's you are thrashed, and not us; and if you are satisfied,why, I think, we should be."

　　Mr. Wenham took his hat, upon this, and CaptainMacmurdo following him to the door, shut it uponhimself and Lord Steyne's agent, leaving Rawdon chafingwithin. When the two were on the other side, Macmurdolooked hard at the other ambassador and with anexpression of anything but respect on his round jolly face.

　　"You don't stick at a trifle, Mr. Wenham," he said.

　　"You flatter me, Captain Macmurdo," answered theother with a smile. "Upon my honour and consciencenow, Mrs. Crawley did ask us to sup after the opera."

　　"Of course; and Mrs. Wenham had one of her head-aches. I say, I've got a thousand-pound note here, whichI will give you if you will give me a receipt, please; andI will put the note up in an envelope for Lord Steyne.My man shan't fight him. But we had rather not takehis money."

　　"It was all a mistake--all a mistake, my dear sir," theother said with the utmost innocence of manner; and wasbowed down the Club steps by Captain Macmurdo, justas Sir Pitt Crawley ascended them. There was a slightacquaintance between these two gentlemen, and theCaptain, going back with the Baronet to the room where thelatter's brother was, told Sir Pitt, in confidence, that hehad made the affair all right between Lord Steyne andthe Colonel.

　　Sir Pitt was well pleased, of course, at this intelligence,and congratulated his brother warmly upon the peacefulissue of the affair, making appropriate moral remarksupon the evils of duelling and the unsatisfactory natureof that sort of settlement of disputes.

　　And after this preface, he tried with all his eloquenceto effect a reconciliation between Rawdon and his wife.He recapitulated the statements which Becky had made,pointed out the probabilities of their truth, and assertedhis own firm belief in her innocence.

　　But Rawdon would not hear of it. "She has kep moneyconcealed from me these ten years," he said "She swore,last night only, she had none from Steyne. She knew itwas all up, directly I found it. If she's not guilty, Pitt,she's as bad as guilty, and I'll never see her again--never." His head sank down on his chest as he spokethe words, and he looked quite broken and sad.

　　"Poor old boy," Macmurdo said, shaking his head.

　　Rawdon Crawley resisted for some time the idea oftaking the place which had been procured for him by soodious a patron, and was also for removing the boyfrom the school where Lord Steyne's interest had placedhim. He was induced, however, to acquiesce in thesebenefits by the entreaties of his brother and Macmurdo,but mainly by the latter, pointing out to him what afury Steyne would be in to think that his enemy'sfortune was made through his means.

　　When the Marquis of Steyne came abroad after hisaccident, the Colonial Secretary bowed up to him andcongratulated himself and the Service upon having madeso excellent an appointment. These congratulations werereceived with a degree of gratitude which may beimagined on the part of Lord Steyne.

　　The secret of the rencontre between him and ColonelCrawley was buried in the profoundest oblivion, asWenham said; that is, by the seconds and the principals.But before that evening was over it was talked of at fiftydinner-tables in Vanity Fair. Little Cackleby himselfwent to seven evening parties and told the story withcomments and emendations at each place. How Mrs.Washington White revelled in it! The Bishopess of Ealingwas shocked beyond expression; the Bishop went andwrote his name down in the visiting-book at Gaunt Housethat very day. Little Southdown was sorry; so you maybe sure was his sister Lady Jane, very sorry. LadySouthdown wrote it off to her other daughter at the Cape ofGood Hope. It was town-talk for at least three days,and was only kept out of the newspapers by the exertionsof Mr. Wagg, acting upon a hint from Mr. Wenham.

　　The bailiffs and brokers seized upon poor Raggles inCurzon Street, and the late fair tenant of that poor littlemansion was in the meanwhile--where? Who cared! Whoasked after a day or two? Was she guilty or not? We allknow how charitable the world is, and how the verdictof Vanity Fair goes when there is a doubt. Some peoplesaid she had gone to Naples in pursuit of Lord Steyne,whilst others averred that his Lordship quitted that cityand fled to Palermo on hearing of Becky's arrival; somesaid she was living in Bierstadt, and had become a damed'honneur to the Queen of Bulgaria; some that she wasat Boulogne; and others, at a boarding-house atCheltenham.

　　Rawdon made her a tolerable annuity, and we maybe sure that she was a woman who could make a littlemoney go a great way, as the saying is. He would havepaid his debts on leaving England, could he have got anyInsurance Office to take his life, but the climate ofCoventry Island was so bad that he could borrow nomoney on the strength of his salary. He remitted,however, to his brother punctually, and wrote to his littleboy regularly every mail. He kept Macmurdo in cigarsand sent over quantities of shells, cayenne pepper, hotpickles, guava jelly, and colonial produce to Lady Jane.He sent his brother home the Swamp Town Gazette,in which the new Governor was praised with immenseenthusiasm; whereas the Swamp Town Sentinel, whosewife was not asked to Government House, declared thathis Excellency was a tyrant, compared to whom Nerowas an enlightened philanthropist. Little Rawdon usedto like to get the papers and read about his Excellency.

　　His mother never made any movement to see the child.He went home to his aunt for Sundays and holidays; hesoon knew every bird's nest about Queen's Crawley, androde out with Sir Huddlestone's hounds, which headmired so on his first well-remembered visit toHampshire.