Paul Gosslett's Confessions in Love, Law, and The Civil Service. Lever Charles James
eh? Answer me that.”
“I am afraid, my Lord, there is some grave misunderstanding here. I never dreamed of proposing myself for such a difficult task. I came here on a totally different mission. It was to take your Lordship’s orders about the ransom and rescue of a young Englishman who has been captured by the brigands in Southern Italy – ”
“That scamp, St. John. A very different business, indeed. Why, sir, they value him at one thousand pounds, and I ‘ll venture to assert that his friends – if that be the name of the people who know him – would call him a dear bargain at twenty. I’m certain his own father would say so; but, poor fellow, he is very ill, and can’t talk on this or any other matter just now. Lady Mary, however, insists on his release, and we must see what can be done. You know the habits and ways of these rascals, – these brigands, – don’t you?”
“No, my Lord; nothing whatever about them.”
“Then, in Heaven’s name, sir, what do you know?”
“Very little about anything, my Lord, I must confess; but as I am sorely pushed to find a livelihood, and don’t fancy being a burden to my friends, I told Mr. Gresson, this morning, that I was quite ready to undertake the mission if I should be intrusted with it; and that, so far as bail or security went, my uncle Rankin, of Rankin and Bates, would unquestionably afford it.”
“Ah, this is very different, indeed,” said he, ponderingly, and with a look of compassionate interest I had not thought his face capable of. “Gone too fast, perhaps; have been hit hard at Doncaster or Goodwood?”
“No, my Lord; I never betted. I started with a few thousand pounds and lost them in a speculation.”
“Well, well. I have no right to enter into these things. Go and see Mr. Temple, the financial clerk. Take this to him, and see what he says to you. If he is satisfied, come down to the House to-night. But stay! You ought to start this evening, oughtn’t you?”
“I believe, my Lord, the time is very short. They require the money to be paid by the twelfth.”
“Or they’ll cut his ears off, I suppose,” said he, laughing. “Well, he’s an ugly dog already; not that cropping will improve him. Here, take this to Temple, and arrange the matter between you.”
And he hurriedly wrote half a dozen lines, which he enclosed and addressed, and then returning to his seat, said, “Bonne chance! I wish you success and a pleasant journey.”
I will not dwell upon the much longer and more commonplace interview that followed. Mr. Temple knew all about me, – knew my uncle, and knew the whole story of my misfortunes. He was not, however, the less cautious in every step he took; and as the sum to be intrusted to me was so large, he filled in a short bail-bond, and, while I sat with him, despatched it by one of his clerks to Lombard Street, for my uncle’s signature. This came in due time; and, furnished with instructions how to draw on the Paymaster-General, some current directions how to proceed till I presented myself at the Legation at Naples, and a sum sufficient for the travelling expenses, I left London that night for Calais, and began my journey. If I was very anxious to acquit myself creditably in this my first employment in the public service, and to exhibit an amount of zeal, tact, and discretion that might recommend me for future employment, I was still not indifferent to the delights of a journey paid for at the Queen’s expense, and which exacted from me none of those petty economies which mar the perfect enjoyment of travelling.
If I suffer myself to dwell on this part of my history, I shall be ruined, for I shall never get on; and you will, besides, inevitably – and as unjustly as inevitably – set me down for a snob.
I arrived at Naples at last. It was just as the day was closing in, but there was still light enough to see the glorious bay and the outline of Vesuvius in the background. I was, however, too full of my mission now to suffer my thoughts to wander to the picturesque, and so I made straight for the Legation.
I had been told that I should receive my last instructions from H.M.‘s Minister, and it was a certain Sir James Magruber that then held that office at Naples. I know so very little of people in his peculiar walk, that I can only hope he may not be a fair sample of his order; for he was the roughest, the rudest, and most uncourteous gentleman it has ever been my fortune to meet.
He was dressing for dinner when I sent up my card, and at once ordered that I should be shown up to his room.
“Where’s your bag?” cried he, roughly, as I entered.
Conceiving that this referred to my personal luggage, and was meant as the preliminary to inviting me to put up at his house, I said that I had left my “traps” at the hotel, and, with his permission, would install myself there for the few hours of my stay.
“Confound your ‘traps,’ as you call them,” said he. “I meant your despatches, – the bag from F. O. Ain’t you the messenger?”
“No, sir; I am not the messenger,” said I, haughtily.
“And what the devil do you mean, then, by sending me your card, and asking to see me at once?”
“Because my business is peremptory, sir,” said I, boldly, and proceeded at once to explain who I was and what I had come for. “To-morrow will be the tenth, sir,” said I, “and I ought to be at Rocco d’Anco by the morning of the twelfth, at farthest.”
He was brushing his hair all the time I was speaking, and I don’t think that he heard above half of what I said.
“And do you mean to tell me they are such infernal fools at F.O. that they ‘re going to pay one thousand pounds sterling to liberate this scamp St. John?”
“I think, sir, you will find that I have been sent out with this object”
“Why, it’s downright insanity! It is a thousand pities they had n’t caught the fellow years ago. Are you aware that there’s scarcely a crime in the statute-book he has not committed? I’d not say murder wasn’t amongst them. Why, sir, he cheated me, – me, – the man who now speaks to you, – at billiards. He greased my cue, sir. It was proved, – proved beyond the shadow of a doubt. The fellow called it a practical joke, but he forgot I had five ducats on the game; and he had the barefaced insolence to amuse Naples by a representation of me as I sided my ball, and knocked the marker down afterwards, thinking it was his fault. He was attached, this St. John was, to my mission here at the time; but I wrote home to demand – not to ask, but demand – his recall. His father’s vote was, however, of consequence to the Government, and they refused me. Yes, sir, they refused me; they told me to give him a leave of absence if I did not like to see him at the Legation; and I gave it, sir. And, thank Heaven, the fellow went into Calabria, and fell into the hands of the brigands, – too good company for him, I ‘m certain. I ‘ll be shot if he could n’t corrupt them; and now you ‘re come out here to pay a ransom for a fellow that any other country but England would send to the galleys.”
“Has he done nothing worse, sir,” asked I, timidly, “than this stupid practical joke?”
“What, sir, have you the face to put this question to me, – to H.M.‘s Minister at this court, – the subject of this knavish buffoonery? Am I a fit subject for a fraud, – a – a freedom, sir? Is it to a house which displays the royal arms over the entrance-door men come to play blackleg or clown? Where have you lived, with whom have you lived, what pursuit in life have you followed, that you should be sunk in such utter ignorance of all the habits of life and civilization?”
I replied that I was a gentleman, I trusted as well educated, and I knew as well-born, as himself.
He sprang to the bell as I said this, and rang on till the room was crowded with servants, who came rushing in under the belief that it was a fire-alarm.
“Take him away, – put him out – Giacomo, – Hippo-lyte, – Francis!” screamed he. “See that he’s out of the house this instant. Send Mr. Carlyon here. Let the police be called, and order gendarmes if he resists.”
While he was thus frothing and foaming, I took my hat, and, passing quietly through the ranks of his household, descended