"Prepaid;-what's that? Go, go, and jabber to apes!"
"A curious young gentleman, is he not?" said Millthorpe lightly to the porter:-"Look you, my boy, I'll repeat:-He says he's prepaid, but no objection to more."
"Ah? — take that then," said Pierre, vacantly putting something into the porter's hand.
"And what shall I do with this, sir?" said the porter, staring.
"Drink a health; but not mine, that were mockery!"
"With a key, sir? This is a key you gave me."
"Ah! — well, you at least shall not have the thing that unlocks me. Give me the key, and take this."
"Ay, ay! — here's the chink! Thank 'ee, sir, thank 'ee. This'll drink. I ain't called a porter for nothing; Stout's the word; 2151 is my number; any jobs, call on me."
"Do you ever cart a coffin, my man?" said Pierre.
" 'Pon my soul!" cried Millthorpe, gayly laughing, "if you ain't writing an Inferno, then-but never mind. Porter! this gentleman is under medical treatment at present. You had better-ab'-you understand-'squatulate, porter! There, my boy, he is gone; I understand how to manage these fellows; there's a trick in it, my boy-an off-handed sort of what d'ye call it? — you understand-the trick! the trick! — the whole world's a trick. Know the trick of it, all's right; don't know, all's wrong. Ha! ha!"
"The porter is gone then?" said Pierre, calmly. "Well, Mr. Millthorpe, you will have the goodness to follow him."
"Rare joke! admirable! — Good morning, sir. Ha, ha!"
And with his unruffleable hilariousness, Millthorpe quitted the room.
But hardly had the door closed upon him, nor had he yet removed his hand from its outer knob, when suddenly it swung half open again, and thrusting his fair curly head within, Millthorpe cried: "By the way, my boy, I have a word for you. You know that greasy fellow who has been dunning you so of late. Well, be at rest there; he's paid. I was suddenly made flush yesterday:-regular flood-tide. You can return it any day, you know-no hurry; that's all.-But, by the way, — as you look as though you were going to have company here-just send for me in case you want to use me- any bedstead to put up, or heavy things to be lifted about. Don't you and the women do it, now, mind! That's all again. Adios, my boy. Take care of yourself!"
"Stay!" cried Pierre, reaching forth one hand, but moving neither foot-"Stay!" — in the midst of all his prior emotions struck by these singular traits in Millthorpe. But the door was abruptly closed; and singing Fa, la, la: Millthorpe in his seedy coat went tripping down the corridor.
"Plus heart, minus head," muttered Pierre, his eyes fixed on the door. "Now, by heaven! the god that made Millthorpe was both a better and a greater than the god that made Napoleon or Byron.-Plus head, minus heart-Pah! the brains grow maggoty without a heart; but the heart's the preserving salt itself, and can keep sweet without the head.-Delly."
"Sir?"
"My cousin Miss Tartan is coming here to live with us, Delly. That easel, — those trunks are hers."
"Good heavens! — coming here? — your cousin? — Miss Tartan?"
"Yes, I thought you must have heard of her and me;-but it was broken off, Delly."
"Sir? Sir?"
"I have no explanation, Delly; and from you, I must have no amazement. My cousin, — mind, my cousin, Miss Tartan, is coming to live with us. The next room to this, on the other side there, is unoccupied. That room shall be — hers. You must wait upon her, too, Delly."
"Certainly, sir, certainly; I will do any thing," said Delly, trembling; "but, — but-does Mrs. Glendin-din-does my mistress know this?"
"My wife knows all"-said Pierre sternly. "I will go down and get the key of the room; and you must sweep it out."
"What is to be put into it, sir?' said Delly. "Miss Tartan- why, she is used to all sorts of fine things, — rich carpets- wardrobes-mirrors-curtains;-why, why, why!"
"Look," said Pierre, touching an old rug with his foot; — "here is a bit of carpet; drag that into her room; here is a chair, put that in; and for a bed, — ay, ay," he muttered to himself; "I have made it for her, and she ignorantly lies on it now! — as made-so lie. Oh God!"
"Hark! my mistress is calling"-cried Delly, moving toward the opposite room.
"Stay!" — cried Pierre, grasping her shoulder, "if both called at one time from these opposite chambers, and both were swooning, which door would you first fly to?"
The girl gazed at him uncomprehendingly and affrighted a moment; and then said, "This one, sir"-out of mere confusion perhaps, putting her hand on Isabel's latch.
"It is well. Now go."
He stood in an intent unchanged attitude till Delly returned.
"How is my wife, now?"
Again startled by the peculiar emphasis placed on the magical word wife, Delly, who had long before this, been occasionally struck with the infrequency of his using that term; she looked at him perplexedly, and said half-unconsciously-
"Your wife, sir?"
"Ay, is she not?"
"God grant that she be-Oh, 'tis most cruel to ask that of poor, poor Delly, sir!"
"Tut for thy tears! Never deny it again then! — I swear to heaven, she is!"
With these wild words, Pierre seized his hat, and departed the room, muttering something about bringing the key of the additional chamber.
As the door closed on him, Delly dropped on her knees. She lifted her head toward the ceiling, but dropped it again, as if tyrannically awed downward, and bent it low over, till her whole form tremulously cringed to the floor.
"God that made me, and that wast not so hard to me as wicked Delly deserved, — God that made me, I pray to Thee! ward it off from me, if it be coming to me. Be not deaf to me; these stony walls-Thou canst hear through them. Pity! pity! — mercy, my God! — If they are not married; if I, penitentially seeking to be pure, am now but the servant to a greater sin, than I myself committed: then, pity! pity! pity! pity! pity! Oh God that made me, — see me, see me here-what can Delly do? If I go hence, none will take me in but villains. If I stay, then-for stay I must-and they be not married, — then pity, pity, pity, pity, pity!"
BOOK XXIV. LUCY AT THE APOSTLES'
I
NEXT MORNING, the recently appropriated room adjoining on the other side of the dining-room, presented a different aspect from that which met the eye of Delly upon first unlocking it with Pierre on the previous evening. Two squares of faded carpeting of different patterns, covered the middle of the floor, leaving, toward the surbase, a wide, blank margin around them. A small glass hung in the pier; beneath that, a little stand, with a. foot or two of carpet before it. In one corner was a cot, neatly equipped with bedding. At the outer side of the cot, another strip of carpeting was placed. Lucy's delicate feet should not shiver on the naked floor.
Pierre, Isabel, and Delly were standing in the room; Isabel's eyes were fixed on the cot.
"I think it will be pretty cosy now," said Delly, palely glancing all round, and then adjusting the pillow anew.
"There is no warmth, though," said Isabel. "Pierre, there is no stove in the room. She will be very cold. The pipe-can we not send it this way?" And she looked more intently at him, than the question seemed to warrant.
"Let the pipe stay where it is, Isabel," said Pierre, answering her own pointed gaze. "The dining-room door can stand open. She never liked sleeping in a heated room. Let all be; it is well. Eh! but there is a grate here, I see. I will buy coals. Yes, yes-that can be easily done; a little fire of a morning- the expense will be nothing. Stay, we will have a little fire here now for a welcome. She shall always have fire."