Davenport Dunn, a Man of Our Day. Volume 2. Lever Charles James
Lever
Davenport Dunn, a Man of Our Day. Volume 2 (of 2)
CHAPTER I. THE TELEGRAPHIC DESPATCH
When Mr. Davenport Dunn entered the drawing-room before dinner on that day, his heart beat very quickly as he saw Lady Augusta Arden was there alone. In what spirit she remembered the scene of the morning, – whether she felt resentment towards him for his presumption, was disposed to scoff down his pretensions, or to regard them, if not with favor, with at least forgiveness, were the themes on which his mind was yet dwelling. The affable smile with which she now met him did more to resolve these doubts than all his casuistry.
“Was it not very thoughtful of me,” said she, “to release you this morning, and suffer you to address yourself to the important things which claimed your attention? I really am quite vain of my self-denial.”
“And yet, Lady Augusta,” said he, in a low tone, “I had felt more flattered if you had been less mindful of the exigency, and been more interested in what I then was speaking of.”
“What a selfish speech!” said she, laughing. “Now that my forbearance has given you all the benefits it could confer, you turn round and say you are not grateful for it. I suppose,” added she, half pettishly, “the despatch was not very pressing after all, and that this was the cause of some disappointment.”
“I am unable to say,” replied he, calmly.
“What do you mean? Surely, when you read it – ”
“But I have not read it, – there it is still, just as you saw-it,” said he, producing the packet with the seal unbroken.
“But really, Mr. Dunn,” said she, and her face flushed up as she spoke, “this does not impress me with the wonderful aptitude for affairs men ascribe to you. Is it usual to treat these messages so cavalierly?”
“It never happened with me till this morning, Lady Augusta,” said he, in the same low tone. “Carried away by an impulse which I will not try to account for, I had dared to speak to you of myself and of my future in a way that showed how eventful to both might prove the manner in which you heard me.”
“Well, Dunn,” cried Lord Glengariff, entering, “I suppose you have made a day of work of it; we have never seen you since breakfast.”
“On the contrary, my Lord,” replied he, in deep confusion, “I have taken my idleness in the widest sense. Never wrote a line, – not looked into a newspaper.”
“Wouldn’t even open a telegraphic message which came to his hands this morning,” said Lady Augusta, with a malicious drollery in her glance towards him.
“Incredible!” cried my Lord.
“Quite true, I assure your Lordship,” said Dunn, in deeper confusion, and not knowing what turn to give his explanation.
“The fact is,” broke in Lady Augusta, hurriedly, “Mr. Dunn was so implicit in his obedience to our prescription of perfect rest and repose, that he made it a point of honor not even to read a telegram without permission.”
“I must say it is very flattering to us,” said Lord Glengariff; “but now let us reward the loyalty, and let him see what his news is.”
Dunn looked at Lady Augusta, who, with the very slightest motion of her head, gave consent, and he broke open the despatch.
Dunn crushed the paper angrily in his hand when he finished reading it, and muttered some low words of angry meaning.
“Nothing disagreeable, I trust?” asked his Lordship.
“Yes, my Lord, something even worse than disagreeable,” said he; then flattening out the crumpled paper, he held it to him to read.
Lord Glengariff, putting on his spectacles, perused the document slowly, and then, turning towards Dunn, in a voice of deep agitation, said, “This is very disastrous indeed; are you prepared for it?”
Without attending to the question, Dunn took the despatch from Lord Glengariff, and handed it to Lady Augusta.
“A run for gold!” cried she, suddenly. “An attempt to break the Ossory Bank! What does it all mean? Who are they that make this attack?”
“Opponents – some of them political, some commercial, a few, perhaps, men personally unfriendly, – enemies of what they call my success!” and he sighed heavily on the last word. “Let me see,” said he, slowly, after a pause; “to-day is Thursday – to-morrow will be the 28th – heavy payments are required for the Guatemala Trunk Line, – something more than forty thousand pounds to be made up. The Parma Loan, second instalment, comes on the 80th.”
“Dinner, my Lord,” said a servant, throwing open the door.
“A thousand pardons, Lady Augusta,” said Dunn, offering his arm. “I am really shocked at obtruding these annoyances upon your notice. You see, my Lord,” added he, gayly, “one of the penalties of admitting the ‘working-men of life’ into your society.”
It was only as they passed on towards the dinner-room that Lord Glengariff noticed Miss Kellett’s absence.
“She has a headache or a cold, I believe,” said Lady Augusta, carelessly; and they sat down to dinner.
So long as the servants were present the conversation ranged over commonplace events and topics, little indeed passing, since each seemed too deeply impressed with grave forebodings for much inclination for mere talking. Once alone – and Lord Glengariff took the earliest moment to be so – they immediately resumed the subject of the ill-omened despatch.
“You are, at all events, prepared, Dunn?” said the Earl; “this onslaught does not take you by surprise?”
“I am ashamed to say it does, my Lord,” said he, with a painful smile. “I was never less suspectful of any malicious design upon me. I was, for the first time perhaps in all my life, beginning to feel strong in the consciousness that I had faithfully performed my allotted part in the world, advanced the great interests of my country and of humanity generally. This blow has, therefore, shocked me deeply.”
“What a base ingratitude!” exclaimed Lady Augusta, indignantly.
“After all,” said Dunn, generously, “let us remember that I am not a fair judge in my own cause. Others have taken, it may be, another reading of my character; they may deem me narrow-minded, selfish, and ambitious. My very success – I am not going to deny it has been great – may have provoked its share of enmity. Why, the very vastness and extent of my projects were a sort of standing reproach to petty speculators and small scheme-mongers.”
“So that it has really come upon you unawares?” said the Earl, reverting to his former remark.
“Completely so, my Lord. The tranquil ease and happiness I have enjoyed under this roof – the first real holiday in a long life of toil – are the best evidences I can offer how little I could have anticipated such a stroke.”
“Still I fervently hope it will not prove more than inconvenience,” said he, feelingly.
“Not even so much, my Lord, as regards money. I cannot believe that the movement will be general. There is no panic in the country, rents are paid, prices remunerating, markets better than we have seen them for years; the sound sense and intelligence of the people will soon detect in this attack the prompting of some personal malice. In all likelihood a few thousands will meet the whole demand.”
“I am so glad to hear you say so!” said Lady Augusta, smiling. “Really, when I think of all our persuasions to detain you here, I never could acquit us of some sort of share in any disaster your delay might have occasioned.”
“Oh, Dunn would never connect his visit here with such consequences, I ‘m certain,” said the Earl.
“Assuredly not, my Lord,” said he; and as his eyes met those of Lady Augusta, he grew red, and felt confused.
“Are your people – your agents and men of business, I mean,” said the Earl – “equal to such an emergency as the present, or will they have to look to you for guidance and direction?”
“Merely to meet the demand for gold is a simple matter, my Lord,” said Dunn, “and does not require any effort of mind or forethought. To prevent the back-water