Pious Frauds, a novel

Front matter

% i«_ BY ALBANY DE FONBLANQUE AUTHOR OF "A TANGLED SKEIN," " FILTHY LUCRE," " BAD LUCK," " CUT ADRIFT," ETC. IN THREE VOLUMES VOL. I LONDON RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON $jublig&«s in fflr&itwg to £w fftajesia % .neen 1 880 [Rights of Translation Reserved} g _ng„n: CLAY AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS. CONTENTS OF VOL. 1. CHAP. PAOE I. IN THE STREAM ... ... 1 II. ON THE BANK ... ... ... ... 20 III. A FOOL OR A VILLAIN — WHICH ? ... 39 IV. "I KNOW WHAT I KNOW " ... ... 60 V. "SO YOUNG AND SO UNTENDER" ... 83 vi. "family history" ... ... ... 105 vii. "good-bye, sweetheart, good-bye" ... 125 VIII. RES ANGUSTA DOMI 149 ix. "he wants me to marry" 169 x. "the law allows it," and the COURT awards it ... CONTENTS. CHAP. PA or. XL ALWAYS WELCOME ... ... ... 212 XII. THE STRANGE CONDUCT OF SIR ALEXANDER 235 260 XIII.

THE SINKING STONES OF GARCIN XIV. " WE'RE GOING TO LONDON " ... ... CHAPTEE I. IN THE STREAM. The Assizes for Bidingshire had recently been opened " with the usual formalities," as the county papers had it. The Northern Circuit was hard at work in the Castle of Minsterton trying causes before my Lord in black silk, and disposing of criminals before my Lord in scarlet. Her Majesty's — th Hussars, who marched into tbe city about a month ago when Her Majesty's — th Dragoons marched out of it, to the tune of " The girl we left behind i. us," were comfortably settled down in their new quarters. Some of the younger soldiers and some of the idler lawyers had fraternized, played cricket, and dined together. Thus it happened that Norman Drummond, barristerat -law, and Arthur Bellmonte, full sub-lieutenant in the above named gallant regiment, were thrown to gether for the first time, though first cousins, and made friends.

Drummond was the fourth son of a Devonshire clergyman whose reputation was greater than his living. Bellmonte was the heir to a baronetcy, and to Garcin Hall, one of the finest estates in Hopshire. The Huzzar was born with a silver spoon, which I am afraid will not pick up any extraneous wealth. Providence had filled the lawyer's wooden ladle with brains. The former just scraped through his examination at the second trial ; the latter's career had been, so far, a series of successes. An exhibition from his school and a scholarship at his college nearly paid for his University career. A " Tancred " presentation helped him to the bar. A handsome face and a pleasant manner won him a fair position in society. He was a rising man, and this being so, Sir Alexander Bellmonte, though he refrained from answering his son's question, why he had never heard of his handsome cousin till they met by chance at Minsterton, did not disapprove of the young man's new-formed acquaintance.

Chapter II. On The Bank

Though dying for a walk in the wood Miss Fairfax was in no hurry to leave the bank. " Let's sit down here," she said, when the other pair were out of sight ; " it's so cool by the water, and they have further to go than we have." So down they sat, she on a felled oak tree, he on the moss at her feet, which she took care to hide, for there was a patch she knew of on one of her boots, and she was not quite sure if all the buttons adorned tbe other. He had made up his mind about the best system of pumping to be pursued, and began, — < " I hope we did not keep you waiting ? " " No ; you were pretty punctual," she replied ; "we had not been there more than five minutes when you came up." " Just time enough to rest after your walk ? " he ventured. " Yes ; it was very hot in the sun." " If I had made the arrangements you should have come on board with us where we started.

It was a shame to make you walk all that way." Drummond sank his voice, and was tenderly reproachful. "Oh, we don't complain," she replied, picking at the bark of the fallen tree with the point of her parasol, and for the first time lowering the lids of her soft blue eyes. " When one knows the amount of pleasure in store," he resumed, " one does not hesi tate about the price to be paid for it. I was not aware what a charming trip I was about to make." " No ; I saw you were quite astonished. Mr. Bellmonte promised us yesterday that you would come, and I thought you knew where we were going, and all about it. Perhaps you have some engagement in the city ; perhaps " — she rose — " it is incon venient — " " Not a bit. I would have given up any engagement to join you. Please sit down. I confess it was a surprise ; but I hope I did nothing to show that it was not a pleasant one.

If I did, you must help me not to belie my real feelings again." " How can I ? " " By giving me the carte de pays, I mean." " I know : telling you who we are, and aU about us." He smiled and nodded. How nicely the pump was working ! " Very well. To begin at the beginning. Mr. Bellmonte — but you are his cousin, are you not ? " " I am." " Oh, then you know all about him. He's such a nice little fellow, and ever so rich, and he's going to be a baronet some day, isn't he ? " " He wdl be a baronet if he lives long enough," said Drummond, after a long pause, which he intended should give emphasis to his reply ; " but I cannot say anything about his present wealth." " Of course you know his father ?" " Very little. He is a gentleman of the old school, Miss Fairfax ; very proud and aris tocratic in all his ideas."

" And so fond of his son, and so good to him ! What a dear old man he must be," gushed Baby-face. " Well, you see, he has everything his own way, and Arthur would be an idiot if he thwarted or disobeyed him, and indeed " — Mr. Drummond continued with a mysterious air — "I must do the young fellow the justice to say that, so far, Sir Alexander has reason to be proud of him. He is a steady, good boy — not very bright (this is between ourselves, you know) ; but he makes a good enough soldier, and I suppose will go into Parliament some day, settle down, marry, and be an excellent country gentleman. That is, of course, if he goes on as he has begun." " And if he doesn't ? " " He has no common vices, and is a gentleman. There is only one way, so far as I can see, in which he might ruin himself, and that he is sure to avoid."

" Betting ? " " No." " What then ?— turning ' Badical ' ? " she asked quickly. " I think," Drummond replies, " that my uncle would bitterly resent such an act of treason, as he would consider it ; hut I was not thinking of that. Sir Alexander might forgive bis son for a change in politics — well, don't let us discuss vague possibilities. The young feUow is, as I have said, a gentleman born and bred, and he will behave like one — noblesse oblige. You understand French, Miss Fairfax ? " " A little. Sib does, well." "And Sib is— ?" " My cousin. How funny that we are all four cousins, isn't it ? " " Not quite all four I think," says Drum moncl, a little stiffly. " You know what I mean. Of course we poor girls don't claim relationship with such grand gentlemen as you and Mr. Bellmonte. I mean it is curious that you two should be cousins, and we two cousins.

Poor people can be cousins, so don't be haughty about it. "I assure you I was not." " Oh yes, you were ; you curled that proud lip of yours when you spoke ; but never mind. Now let me get on with my carte de pays. Sib — that's short for Sibyl ; isn't it a pretty name ? Sib is the best, the dearest, and the truest woman under the sun, and the handsomest too, / think — don't you ? But she doesn't get on with her own people, and is staying with us. She came to us when I was a child, and has remained ever since. And oh, she was so good to my mother all that weary time." " I thought that probably you had lost your mother," says Drummond musingly. " Why ? " " You won't be offended if I tell you ? ' " No ; go on." " Because if you had a mother I don't think she would quite like your going out on the river unescorted."

" Why, you took us ! " cried the rosy lips, and the violet eyes opened wide to flash merry astonishment. " That's just it," Drummond replied " WeU, are you going to ill-use us ? " she asked. " God forbid ! but the world, my dear child" — he was getting paternal now, but none the less tender — " does not approve of young ladies going out alone to tea with young men at Cats and Fiddles." " The Cat and Fiddle is a very respectable place, Mr. Drummond," she retorted. "The best families go there." "Don't get angry. You promised you would not. With the activity of argument peculiar to your sex, you have jumped clean over the principle of what I was saying, and lighted on a trivial matter of detad. I have nothing against your Cat and Fiddle in the abstract ; what I want to impress upon you is, that the world does not approve of young ladies going any where in the company of young men, without a chaperone."

" Sib is three years older than I am," said baby-face, with something between a sob and a sigh, and looking so meek and penitent that Drummond took her little hand and patted it approvingly. " You are a dear, innocent child," he went on, and the small warm hand rested con fidingly between his palms. " Your cousin is not old enough to be a chaperone for you, and too old to be excused for leading you into mischief." " But she is not leading me into mischief. Oh, you have made me so miserable — you've quite spodt my day's pleasure," she murmured, with her handkerchief to her eyes. " You said you would not ill-use us, and I'm sure we won't do anything wicked to you. Are you afraid ? " He could not help laughing at this question, which was put with the utmost gravity. He laughed it off, and recapturing the small hand which had been snatched away during the upbraiding portion of her speech, he patted good counsel into her as before.

"Nonsense, chdd! I have said nothing to make you miserable. Enjoy yourself to the top of your bent ; only " — more gravely — " don't you put your fingers in the fire to pull out other people's chestnuts." She took the warning literally ; pouted, and pleaded — " But I like roasted chestnuts." " AVhat a little idiot it is," thought Drum mond. " Hadn't we better be moving ? " he O said aloud. " Tired of me already ? " she asked. " No, don't teU a fib ; I saw you yawn. Well, it's about time to go to our trysting-place ; so come along. Of course you won't have a word for poor little me when Sib comes — no one does." Drummond had made up his mind to shake off this " little idiot " as soon as possible, and therefore rose at her " come along," and did not notice the concluding words. Side by side they walked slowly and sdently through the chequered paths of the wood, he measuring mentally what he had pumped already, in order to see what else might be made to flow from the same pure and facile source.

" Have you known my cousin long ? " he began, when his calculations were made. " About three weeks." " Since tbe regiment came ? " " Why, how sdly of you ! How could I know him before he came ? " "It is possible that he might have been introduced to you somewhere else," Drum mond replied stiffly. He did not like to be called sdly even by those pretty, foolish lips. "So it is," she said. "It's I that am siUy not to have thought of that. But I don't think before I speak. Sib often scolds me for it — that is, I do think, but not in the right way. I think that I'm clever, and have caught some one out in something stupid, and I'm so pleased, and then it turns out that I'm the stupid one after all ! Don't you see ? " " Well, well ; never mind. So you have no mother ? " " Or father. Sib bas both parents alive, but they're no use to her.

Her mother hates her, and her father makes her a bone of contention, so she came to us for the sake of peace. I'd sooner be an orphan — as I am— than be like poor old Sib." " You say of your cousin that she came to us. Whom do you mean by ' us ' ? " " Why, uncle and I, to be sure." "I understand. Have I ever met your uncle at the barracks ? " " Gracious, no ! He hates soldiers. Why do you ask ? " " Because I've met several of Arthur's friends there at mess, and thought he might have been amongst them. Did you tell me his name ? " "I don't think I did." "WiU you?" " Why shouldn't I ? Do you think there is any mystery about it ? Uncle never was at the barracks in his life ; he hates the barracks. He is queer in his likes and dislikes. Do you know that he does not like Sib." " Indeed." " Yes; I'm his pet, and that is quite wrong.

Sib's little finger is worth my head. She is so clever. Do you know she once went out as a governess, and I had charge of the house ? " i. " I did not ; but about your uncle, he " — " Was so cross all the time, you have no idea. Things would not go right. Once I prayed — I really did p?~ay on my knees in my real prayers — that she might have a row — Sib I mean — with her employers, and get sent away. And do you know (solemnly) she was sent away too, but not for any fault of hers. Oh no ! They were odious vulgar people, and she was too good for them." " Is your uncle a widower ? " " The idea ! as though he ever would have married, or got any one to marry him ! He hates women." " Let me see," Drummond observes. "He hates soldiers, and barracks, and women ; what else does he hate ? " " Lawyers," said baby-face, with a merry laugh.

" Oh ! he cannot bear you lawyers. " "Perhaps he has reason for this dislike." " Lots. They're always worrying him, and he is always beating them." " Then I presume Law is not one of his dislikes. He is your late father's brother, this Utigious Mr. Fairfax ? " " Father didn't have any brothers ; uncle had, though." She stated this as a curious fact which must have escaped her questioner. "And do you know," she continued, "when Uncle Fred was young he was so wdd and bad — did all sorts of dreadful things, and ran away to sea, and they all thought he was lost, and all the time be was in America steadied down, and making lots of money ; and when he came home they didn't know him, and he used to chew tobacco and spit about. But he was so good." " Now I begin to understand," says Drummond. " You and your cousin live with Uncle Fred."

"With Uncle Fred ! Now it must be you that are silly," she cried, putting up a small forefinger and shaking it at him. O O " Uncle Fred died when I was a baby." This was too much for Drummond's patience. " Miss Fairfax, will you tell me what is your guardian's name and where you live ? " He put it point-blank and faced her. " If you want to know." " I do want to know." " Then why didn't you ask politely in stead of snapping my nose off like that ? You gave me quite a start. Let me get on to the stile and sit down. What an odd man you are — so sudden ! Do you ever have palpitations of the heart ? I have. You've given me one. I declare I feel quite faint. Oh ! there's Sib ; I'm so glad. Let me go to Sib." Sib and Arthur were at the rendezvous sure enough. Miss Fairfax threw herself into the former's arms and began to sob.

Arthur stepped forward flushed and angry. " What's the matter ? What have you been saying to her ? " he demanded rather sharply of Drummond. " Oh, nothing — nothing," sobbed the little blonde. " It's the sun— and the walk — and oh ! he has been so nice and kind. It's not his fault a bit ; I shall be all right in a minute. And I've been so awfully stupid. Let him have Sib to walk with now, or he wUl be so bored." So Mr. Drummond finished that day with Sibyl Cowper as his companion, and was not bored at all. He laid himself out to be agreeable ; he did his best, and he had his reward. Sib's face came into focus for him, softened, and ran over with smiles. Moon light and the wash of water are not provoca tives to conversation, but when a man looks at a woman and she smdes before he speaks, it is a good sign that previous talk has made its mark.

Drifting home in the moonlight, Mr. Drummond was on excellent terms with himself — particularly as he observed that Bellmonte was not in his usual good spirits. He was silent and — as his cousin fondly hoped — jealous. — WHICH ? 39

Chapter III

A FOOL OR A VILLAIN — WHICH ? The young ladies did not allow their cavahers to see them home. They were landed much nearer the city than tbe point at which they had embarked, but stdl at a distance from the boat-house. Their good nights were hurried, and a flutter of muslin in the distance caught Drummond's eye and showed that they were running. The church clocks struck nine as the " confounded tub " of the afternoon — the tub which had floated all too quickly in the moonlight — was restored to its owner, and the cousins made their way to the Barracks, where Drummond was to pass the night and Sunday. It suited him to be able to talk about " when I was staying with those fellows of the — th." There was a shrewd suspicion in his mind that one of those fellows would have a good deal to say to him that night.

The mess supplied Polli and B. ; there were plenty of good cigars on hand. The night was warm and stiU — just the very night to lean back in an easy-chair and think. Arthur Bellmonte was evidently thinking hard, but bodily repose appeared to be quite out of the question, though he had as large and choice a coUection of lazy lounges as an army outfitter can cram into a subaltern's quarters. He walked up and down the room ; he leaned by the open window ; he stood with his back to where the fire might have been ; he fidgetted — WHICH? 41 with the lamp ; he took things up, and laid them down ; sometimes puffing volumes of smoke from his cigar, as though he had a heavy bet upon how soon he could finish it, and sometimes letting it go out, and sucking away unconsciously at the charred and fire less stump.

Drummond had taken the best chair in the room, and reclining thereon at full length, watched him with cat-like eyes, and a very superior human smile. At last the uneasy one took heart of grace, plunged his hands in his pockets, faced round suddenly, and began : " You've guessed something — I suppose —to-day ? " " Guessed is hardly the word, Arthur. I've seen you going it pretty fast on the road to a scrape of the first magni tude." " And you think me either a fool or a villain — which ? " " As you put it so emphatically, I should' say the former," replied the elder cousin drily. " I am going to marry that girl, Norman." "You are?" " I am. What have you to say against it?" " I ? Nothing, my dear fellow. It's no business of mine. This is a free country, and a man may make an ass of himself if he likes ; only — " "I can stand a good deal from you — just now, Norman ; only don't you think it's hardly good form to call names."

" Perhaps not ; but a man who voluntarily gives one the choice to think him a fool or a villain, should not complain when he's only called an ass." — WHICH ? 43 "I see how it is," said Arthur; "you're cross because I did not confide in you at the commencement. I own that I got you into the boat on false pretences. I thought perhaps you wouldn't come if I told you why. I wanted you to judge for yourself, what a dear, sweet, lovable girl she is, before you found out that I had — that I loved her. That's why we managed that you should be alone together all that time." " I suppose it did seem a long time to you ? " "Well, tell me frankly — what do you think of her?" Here the lover at last seated himself, and prepared to breathe that sweetest of incense — praise of his beloved. " She is handsome," said Drummond, flicking off the ash of his cigar, "and tolerably well educated — for a woman.

And she's clever, no doubt of that. So much I could judge for myself. What else she is, who she is, and aU that, you have yet to tell me, if you choose." " Well, she comes of a respectable famdy, and has a good name." "That's nothing. There are plenty of good names at the hulks. I know she lives with an uncle— who is he, and what ? " " That's the rub," said the lover, studying the pattern of the hearth-rug, with his elbows on his knees. " I'm afraid he is an awful cad. But then " — brightening " he's only her uncle." " But evidently her guardian ; go on." "His name is Tyrell." "Not the man who is known as Tom Tvrell ? " _/ " I'm sorry to say he is." " Why, good God ! a Radical ! a trade union rattener ! a seditious, levelling, ras- — WHICH ? 45 cally demagogue ! a fellow who has been in trouble of some sort or another at every assize since I joined the circuit."

" But he has always won bis case, old man. You mustn't forget that. He has beaten the best of you." " Granted ; but how ? By miserable quibbles ; by subornation of perjury ; by intimidating witnesses ; and, in the last case, through the incompetence of the prosecuting counsel. That's how. He ought to be in j ad at this moment." " When a man is found not guilty — " " Oh, that'll do in court. We're on the social, not the legal, question. What do you suppose your father would think of such a connection ? " " There wdl be a row, of course," Arthur admitted ruefully ; " but when my father sees the girl — " " Pshaw ! He's not in love with her." " Nor am I with her uncle. I'm not going to marry him. I don't even know him." " Indeed ! May I inquire how you made the young lady's acquaintance ? " " Saw her at the Band."

" And spoke without an introduction ? " " Well, yes— I did." "A mighty respectable beginning ; I gave her credit for more self-respect." "There's not a more virtuous, retiring girl in the county ; so stop that," said Arthur warmly. "You can slang me as you like, but I won't stand any slight on her." "Of course not. Well, my dear fellow, you're two-and-twenty, and think yourself in love. It's not a bit of use talking to you — now. You wouldn't listen to an angel O — WHICH? 47 from heaven, if he did not say exactly what you wanted." Here the speaker resumed his easy pos ture, from which the name of Tom Tyrell had aroused him, and lighted a fresh cigar. " So you guessed it from the first ? " Arthur asked, loth to leave the subject. " Not quite from the first, but as soon as I saw that ring on her finger."

" She did not wear her ring." " Excuse me; I noticed it particularly, and thought how out of keeping it was with other parts of her toilette. Emeralds — " Here Bellmonte looked up with a broad grin of wonder, and then exploded into hearty laughter. " Why, old man, what are you dreaming about ? " he cried. " You've got hold of the wrong woman. It isn't Sib ; Lord, no ! To-day is her birthday, and I gave May that ring to give her for a present. That's why she wore it. Poor little May daren't wear hers," he added dejectedly. " Let us have no half-confidences now," said Drummond, picking up the weed which had fallen from his lips at this second sur prise. " Are you married ? " " No ; upon my honour, no. It isn't that sort of ring ; only an engagement one, you know ; but if tbe uncle saw it, aU the fat would be in the fire.

She wears it round her neck, poor darling. And you thought it was Sib ? Ha, ha ! Sib wouldn't have a stupid fellow like me." It is better to admit a mistake which has been hastily made than to confess one has deliberated, been right, and then gone wrong ; so Mr. Drummond allowed himself to be laughed at without explanation. He — WHICH ? 49 felt a little sore, however. It began to dawn upon him that baby-face had got the best of him in their jumping match, and that, perhaps, she was a clever woman too. Was it idle chatter with which she had baulked his questions about her uncle ? or skilful evasion ? He felt a little sore, as a man of his temper always does feel when he thinks he has been taken in ; but a salve of consolation came with the thought that Sib — Sib of the grand, pale face, which had softened — was free.

" It makes little difference," he said at last, " which of them it is. The objectionable features of the case apply to either, and to both, alike. They are not gentlewomen ; they have a disreputable relation ; and they allowed you to make their acquaintance in a manner which is considered, to say the least of it, objectionable, by the class in i which a man of your position should seek a wife." " She was very angry, I tell you," Arthur broke in ; " she would not speak to me at all for a long time." " But ended by making your acquaintance, and accepting your proposal. Now look here, Arthur. My father was a gentleman by birth, by education, by profession. He was a tutor to Lord Satby's son — the present Earl — when he fell in love with my mother, and he married her against the consent of your grandfather.

If he had not been a clergyman, your father's elder brother, who had old -• fashioned ideas about duelling, would have shot him. He was poor — tbat was all they could say against him, and they left him so. Not that he wanted their help. He has done without that. They turned their backs upon daughter and sister, — WHICH \ 51 and they do so still. Our intimacy is a mere accident. They left my poor mother, daintdy nurtured, delicate as she was, to aU the sordid cares of want ; and worse still, to the repinings which would have cankered in the breast of a less good woman, and undermined her wifely duty. Think of it ; and if this were the measure meted to a daughter for marrying a gentleman and a clergyman, what would be done about an only son who took Tom Tyrell's niece to wife ? " " WeU, it aU came right.