"I must ask you to explain," said he. "Do you mean to turn me out
into the rain? My good man, I
suspect the choice is mine."
"The choice is certainly yours," replied the driver; "but when I
tell you all, I believe I know how a gentleman of your figure will
decide. There is a gentlemen's party in this house. I do not know
whether the master be a stranger to London and without
acquaintances of his own; or whether he is a man of odd notions.
But certainly I was hired to
kidnap single gentlemen in evening
dress, as many as I pleased, but military officers by preference.
You have simply to go in and say that Mr. Morris invited you."
"Are you Mr. Morris?" inquired the Lieutenant.
"Oh, no," replied the cabman. "Mr. Morris is the person of the
house."
"It is not a common way of collecting guests," said Brackenbury:
"but an
eccentric man might very well
indulge the whim without any
intention to
offend. And suppose that I refuse Mr. Morris's
invitation," he went on, "what then?"
"My orders are to drive you back where I took you from," replied
the man, "and set out to look for others up to
midnight. Those who
have no fancy for such an adventure, Mr. Morris said, were not the
guests for him."
These words
decided the Lieutenant on the spot.
"After all," he reflected, as he descended from the hansom, "I have
not had long to wait for my adventure."
He had hardly found
footing on the side-walk, and was still feeling
in his pocket for the fare, when the cab swung about and drove off
by the way it came at the former break-neck
velocity. Brackenbury
shouted after the man, who paid no heed, and continued to drive
away; but the sound of his voice was overheard in the house, the
door was again thrown open, emitting a flood of light upon the
garden, and a servant ran down to meet him
holding an umbrella.
"The cabman has been paid," observed the servant in a very civil
tone; and he proceeded to
escort Brackenbury along the path and up
the steps. In the hall several other attendants relieved him of
his hat, cane, and paletot, gave him a ticket with a number in
return, and
politelyhurried him up a stair adorned with tropical
flowers, to the door of an
apartment on the first storey. Here a
grave
butler inquired his name, and announcing "Lieutenant
Brackenbury Rich," ushered him into the drawing-room of the house.
A young man,
slender and singularly handsome, came forward and
greeted him with an air at once courtly and
affectionate. Hundreds
of candles, of the finest wax, lit up a room that was perfumed,
like the
staircase, with a profusion of rare and beautiful
flowering shrubs. A side-table was loaded with
tempting viands.
Several servants went to and fro with fruits and goblets of
champagne. The company was perhaps sixteen in number, all men, few
beyond the prime of life, and with hardly an
exception, of a
dashing and
capableexterior. They were divided into two groups,
one about a roulette board, and the other
surrounding a table at
which one of their number held a bank of baccarat.
"I see," thought Brackenbury, "I am in a private gambling saloon,
and the cabman was a tout."
His eye had embraced the details, and his mind formed the
conclusion, while his host was still
holding him by the hand; and
to him his looks returned from this rapid
survey. At a second view
Mr. Morris surprised him still more than on the first. The easy
elegance of his manners, the
distinction, amiability, and courage
that appeared upon his features, fitted very ill with the
Lieutenant's preconceptions on the subject of the
proprietor of a
hell; and the tone of his conversation seemed to mark him out for a
man of position and merit. Brackenbury found he had an instinctive
liking for his
entertainer; and though he chid himself for the
weakness, he was
unable to
resist a sort of friendly
attraction for
Mr. Morris's person and character.
"I have heard of you, Lieutenant Rich," said Mr. Morris, lowering
his tone; "and believe me I am gratified to make your acquaintance.
Your looks
accord with the
reputation that has preceded you from
India. And if you will forget for a while the irregularity of your
presentation in my house, I shall feel it not only an honour, but a
genuine pleasure besides. A man who makes a
mouthful of barbarian
cavaliers," he added with a laugh, "should not be appalled by a
breach of
etiquette, however serious."
And he led him towards the sideboard and pressed him to
partake of
some refreshment.
"Upon my word," the Lieutenant reflected, "this is one of the
pleasantest fellows and, I do not doubt, one of the most
agreeablesocieties in London."
He partook of some
champagne, which he found excellent; and
observing that many of the company were already smoking, he lit one
of his own Manillas, and strolled up to the roulette board, where
he sometimes made a stake and sometimes looked on smilingly on the
fortune of others. It was while he was thus idling that he became
aware of a sharp scrutiny to which the whole of the guests were
subjected. Mr. Morris went here and there, ostensibly busied on
hospitable concerns; but he had ever a
shrewd glance at disposal;
not a man of the party escaped his sudden, searching looks; he took
stock of the
bearing of heavy losers, he valued the
amount of the
stakes, he paused behind couples who were deep in conversation;
and, in a word, there was hardly a
characteristic of any one
present but he seemed to catch and make a note of it. Brackenbury
began to wonder if this were indeed a gambling hell: it had so
much the air of a private
inquisition. He followed Mr. Morris in
all his movements; and although the man had a ready smile, he
seemed to
perceive, as it were under a mask, a
haggard, careworn,
and
preoccupied spirit. The fellows around him laughed and made
their game; but Brackenbury had lost interest in the guests.
"This Morris," thought he, "is no idler in the room. Some deep
purpose inspires him; let it be mine to
fathom it."
Now and then Mr. Morris would call one of his
visitors aside; and
after a brief colloquy in an ante-room, he would return alone, and
the
visitors in question reappeared no more. After a certain
number of repetitions, this
performance excited Brackenbury's
curiosity to a high degree. He determined to be at the bottom of
this minor
mystery at once; and strolling into the ante-room, found
a deep window
recess concealed by curtains of the fashionable
green. Here he
hurriedly ensconced himself; nor had he to wait
long before the sound of steps and voices drew near him from the
principal
apartment. Peering through the division, he saw Mr.
Morris
escorting a fat and ruddy
personage, with somewhat the look
of a
commercial traveller, whom Brackenbury had already remarked
for his
coarse laugh and under-bred behaviour at the table. The
pair halted immediately before the window, so that Brackenbury lost
not a word of the following discourse:-
"I beg you a thousand pardons!" began Mr. Morris, with the most
conciliatory manner; "and, if I appear rude, I am sure you will
readily
forgive me. In a place so great as London accidents must
continually happen; and the best that we can hope is to
remedy them
with as small delay as possible. I will not deny that I fear you
have made a mistake and honoured my poor house by inadvertence;
for, to speak
openly, I cannot at all remember your appearance.
Let me put the question without unnecessary circumlocution -
between gentlemen of honour a word will
suffice - Under whose roof
do you suppose yourself to be?"
"That of Mr. Morris," replied the other, with a
prodigious display
of
confusion, which had been visibly growing upon him throughout
the last few words.
"Mr. John or Mr. James Morris?" inquired the host.
"I really cannot tell you," returned the
unfortunate guest. "I am
not
personally acquainted with the gentleman, any more than I am
with yourself."
"I see," said Mr. Morris. "There is another person of the same