All the actor laid aside, Waife growled out, And hang me; sir, if you shall have the girl!
At this moment Sophy opened the door wide, and entered boldly. She had heard her grandfathers voice raised, though its hoarse tones did not allow her to distinguish his words. She was alarmed for him. She came in, his guardian fairy, to protect him from the oppressor of six feet high. Rugges arm was raised, not indeed to strike, but rather to declaim. Sophy slid between him and her grandfather, and, clinging round the latter, flung out her own arm, the forefinger raised menacingly towards the Remorseless Baron. How you would have clapped if you had seen her so at Covent Garden! But Ill swear the child did not know she was acting. Rugge did, and was struck with admiration and regretful rage at the idea of losing her.
Bravo! said he, involuntarily. Come, come, Waife, look at her: she was born for the stage. My heart swells with pride. She is my property, morally speaking; make her so legally; and hark, in your ear, fifty pounds. Take me in the humour,Golconda opens,fifty pounds!
No, said the vagrant.
Well, said Rugge, sullenly; let her speak for herself.
Speak, child. You dont wish to return to Mr. Rugge,and without me, too,do you, Sophy?
Without you, Grandy! Id rather die first.
You hear her; all is settled between us. You have had our services up to last night; you have paid us up to last night; and so good morning to you, Mr. Rugge.
My dear child, said the manager, softening his voice as much as he could, do consider. You shall be so made of without that stupid old man. You think me cross, but t is he who irritates and puts me out of temper. I m uncommon fond of children. I had a babe of my own once,upon my honour, I had,and if it had not been for convulsions, caused by teething, I should be a father still. Supply to me the place of that beloved babe. You shall have such fine dresses; all new,choose em yourself,minced veal and raspberry tarts for dinner every Sunday. In three years, under my care, you will become a great actress, and make your fortune, and marry a lord,lords go out of their wits for great actresses,whereas, with him, what will you do? drudge and rot and starve; and he cant live long, and then where will you be? T is a shame to hold her so, you idle old vagabond.
I dont hold her, said Waife, trying to push her away. Theres something in what the man says. Choose for yourself, Sophy.
SOPHY (suppressing a sob).How can you have the heart to talk so, Grandy? I tell you, Mr. Rugge, you are a bad man, and I hate you, and all about you; and Ill stay with Grandfather; and I dont care if I do starve: he shant!
MR. RUGGE (clapping both hands on the crown of his hat, and striding to the door).William Waife, beware t is done. Im your enemy. As for you, too dear but abandoned infant, stay with him: youll find out very soon who and what he is; your pride will have a fall, when
Waife sprang forward, despite his lameness,both his fists clenched, his one eye ablaze; his broad burly torso confronted and daunted the stormy manager. Taller and younger though Rugge was, he cowered before the cripple he had so long taunted and humbled. The words stood arrested on his tongue. Leave the room instantly! thundered the actor, in a voice no longer broken. Blacken my name before that child by one word, and I will dash the next down your throat. Rugge rushed to the door, and keeping it ajar between Waife and himself, he then thrust in his head, hissing forth,
Fly, caitiff, fly! my revenge shall track your secret and place you in my power. Juliet Araminta shall yet be mine. With these awful words the Remorseless Baron cleared the stairs in two bounds, and was out of the house.
Waife smiled contemptuously. But as the street-door clanged on the form of the angry manager, the colour faded from the old mans face. Exhausted by the excitement he had gone through, he sank on a chair, and, with one quick gasp as for breath, fainted away.
CHAPTER XI
Progress of the Fine Arts.Biographical anecdotes.Fluctuations in the value of money.Speculative tendencies of the time.
Whatever the shock which the brutality of the Remorseless Baron inflicted on the nervous system of the persecuted but triumphant Bandit, it had certainly subsided by the time Vance and Lionel entered Waifes apartment; for they found grandfather and grandchild seated near the open window, at the corner of the table (on which they had made room for their operations by the removal of the carved cocoanut, the crystal egg, and the two flower-pots), eagerly engaged, with many a silvery laugh from the lips of Sophy, in the game of dominos.
Mr. Waife had been devoting himself, for the last hour and more, to the instruction of Sophy in the mysteries of that intellectual amusement; and such pains did he take, and so impressive were his exhortations, that his happy pupil could not help thinking to herself that this was the new art upon which Waife depended for their future livelihood. She sprang up, however, at the entrance of the visitors, her face beaming with grateful smiles; and, running to Lionel and taking him by the hand, while she courtesied with more respect to Vance, she exclaimed, We are free! thanks to you, thanks to you both! He is gone! Mr. Rugge is gone!
So I saw on passing the green; stage and all, said Vance, while Lionel kissed the child and pressed her to his side. It is astonishing how paternal he felt,how much she had crept into his heart.
Pray, sir, asked Sophy, timidly, glancing to Vance, has the Norfolk Giant gone too?
VANCE.I fancy soall the shows were either gone or going.
SOPHY.The Calf with Two Heads?
VANCE.Do you regret it?
SOPHY.Oh, dear, no.
Waife, who after a profound bow, and a cheery Good day, gentlemen, had hitherto remained silent, putting away the dominoes, now said, I suppose, sir, you would like at once to begin your sketch?
VANCE.Yes; I have brought all my tools; see, even the canvas. I wish it were larger, but it is all I have with me of that material: t is already stretched; just let me arrange the light.
WAIFE.If you dont want me, gentlemen, I will take the air for half-an-hour or so. In fact, I may now feel free to look after my investment.
SOPHY (whispering Lionel).You are sure the Calf has gone as well as the Norfolk Giant?
Lionel wonderingly replied that he thought so; and Waife disappeared into his room, whence he soon emerged, having doffed his dressing-gown for a black coat, by no means threadbare, and well brushed. Hat, stick, and gloves in hand, he really seemed respectable,more than respectable,Gentleman Waife every inch of him; and saying, Look your best, Sophy, and sit still, if you can, nodded pleasantly to the three, and hobbled down the stairs. Sophywhom Vance had just settled into a chair, with her head bent partially down (three-quarters), as the artist had released
The loose train of her amber-dropping hair,
and was contemplating aspect and position with a painters meditative eye-started up, to his great discomposure, and rushed to the window. She returned to her seat with her mind much relieved. Waife was walking in an opposite direction to that which led towards the whilolm quarters of the Norfolk Giant and the Two-headed Calf.
and was contemplating aspect and position with a painters meditative eye-started up, to his great discomposure, and rushed to the window. She returned to her seat with her mind much relieved. Waife was walking in an opposite direction to that which led towards the whilolm quarters of the Norfolk Giant and the Two-headed Calf.
Come, come, said Vance, impatiently, you have broken an idea in half. I beg you will not stir till I have placed you; and then, if all else of you be still, you may exercise your tongue. I give you leave to talk.
SOPHY (penitentially).I am so sorryI beg pardon. Will that do, sir?
VANCE.Head a little more to the right,so, Titania watching Bottom asleep. Will you lie on the floor, Lionel, and do Bottom?
LIONEL (indignantly).Bottom! Have I an asss head?
VANCE.Immaterial! I can easily imagine that you have one. I want merely an outline of figure,something sprawling and ungainly.
LIONEL (sulkily).Much obliged to you; imagine that too.
VANCE.Dont be so disobliging. It is necessary that she should look fondly at something,expression in the eye. Lionel at once reclined himself incumbent in a position as little sprawling and ungainly as he could well contrive.
VANCE.Fancy, Miss Sophy, that this young gentleman is very dear to you. Have you got a brother?
SOPHY.Ah, no, sir.
VANCE.Hum. But you have, or have had, a doll?
SOPHY.Oh, yes; Grandfather gave me one.
VANCE.And you were fond of that doll?
SOPHY.Very.
VANCE.Fancy that young gentleman is your doll grown big, that it is asleep, and you are watching that no one hurts it; Mr. Rugge, for instance. Throw your whole soul into that thought,love for doll, apprehension of Rugge. Lionel, keep still, and shut your eyes; do.
LIONEL (grumbling).I did not come here to be made a doll of.
VANCE.Coax him to be quiet, Miss Sophy, and sleep peaceably, or I shall do him a mischief. I can be a Rugge, too, if I am put out.
SOPHY (in the softest tones).Do try and sleep, sir: shall I get you a pillow?
LIONEL.No, thank you: Im very comfortable now, settling his head upon his arm; and after one upward glance towards Sophy, the lids closed reluctantly over his softened eyes. A ray of sunshine came aslant through the half-shut window, and played along the boys clustering hair and smooth pale cheek. Sophys gaze rested on him most benignly.
Just so, said Vance; and now be silent till I have got the attitude and fixed the look.
The artist sketched away rapidly with a bold practised hand, and all was silent for about half-an-hour, when he said, You May get up, Lionel; I have done with you for the present.
SOPHY.And me toomay I see?
VANCE.No, but you may talk now. So you had a doll? What has become of it?
SOPHY.I left it behind, sir. Grandfather thought it would distract me from attending to his lessons and learning my part.
VANCE.You love your grandfather more than the doll?
SOPHY.Oh! a thousand million million times more.
VANCE.He brought you up, I suppose? Have you no father,no mother?
SOPHY.I have only Grandfather.
LIONEL.Have you always lived with him?
SOPHY.Dear me, no; I was with Mrs. Crane till Grandfather came from abroad, and took me away, and put me with some very kind people; and then, when Grandfather had that bad accident, I came to stay with him, and we have been together ever since.
LIONEL.Was Mrs. Crane no relation of yours?
SOPHY.No, I suppose not, for she was not kind; I was so miserable: but dont talk of it; I forget that now. I only wish to remember from the time Grandfather took me in his lap, and told me to be a good child and love him; and I have been happy ever since.
You are a dear good child, said Lionel, emphatically, and I wish I had you for my sister.
VANCE.When your grandfather has received from me that exorbitantnot that I grudge itsum, I should like to ask, What will he do with it? As he said it was a secret, I must not pump you.
SOPHY.What will he do with it? I should like to know, too, sir; but whatever it is I dont care, so long as I and Grandfather are together.
Here Waife re-entered. Well, how goes on the picture?
VANCE.Tolerably, for the first sitting; I require two more.
WAIFE.Certainly; onlyonly (he drew aside Vance, and whispered), only the day after to-morrow, I fear I shall want the money. It is an occasion that never will occur again: I would seize it.
VANCE.Take the money now.
WAIFE.Well, thank you, sir; you are sure now that we shall not run away; and I accept your kindness; it will make all safe.
Vance, with surprising alacrity, slipped the sovereigns into the old mans hand; for truth to say, though thrifty, the artist was really generous. His organ of caution was large, but that of acquisitiveness moderate. Moreover, in those moments when his soul expanded with his art, he was insensibly less alive to the value of money. And strange it is that, though States strive to fix for that commodity the most abiding standards, yet the value of money to the individual who regards it shifts and fluctuates, goes up and down half-a-dozen times a day. For any part, I honestly declare that there are hours in the twenty-foursuch, for instance, as that just before breakfast, or that succeeding a page of this History in which I have been put out of temper with my performance and myselfwhen any one in want of five shillings at my disposal would find my value of that sum put it quite out of his reach; while at other timesjust after dinner, for instance, or when I have effected what seems to me a happy stroke, or a good bit of colour, in this historical compositionthe value of those five shillings is so much depreciated that I might be,I think so, at least,I might be almost tempted to give them away for nothing. Under some such mysterious influences in the money-market, Vance therefore felt not the loss of his three sovereigns; and returning to his easel, drove away Lionel and Sophy, who had taken that opportunity to gaze on the canvas.
Dont do her justice at all, quoth Lionel; all the features exaggerated.
And you pretend to paint! returned Vance, in great scorn, and throwing a cloth over his canvas. To-morrow, Mr. Waife, the same hour. Now, Lionel, get your hat, and come away.
Vance carried off the canvas, and Lionel followed slowly. Sophy gazed at their departing forms from the open window; Waife stumped about the room, rubbing his hands, Hell do; he ll do: I always thought so. Sophy turned: Wholl do?the young gentleman? Do what?
WAIFE.-The young gentleman?-as if I was thinking of him! Our new companion; I have been with him this last hour. Wonderful natural gifts.
SOPHY (ruefully).It is alive, then?
WAIFE.Alive! yes, I should think so.
SOPHY (half-crying.)I am very sorry; I know I shall hate it.
WAIFF.Tut, darling: get me my pipe; Im happy.
SOPHY (cutting short her fit of ill-humour).Are you? then I am, and I will not hate it.