The Three Cutters. Фредерик МарриетЧитать онлайн книгу.
am sorry, my lord, that business prevented my sooner attending to your lordship’s kind summons.”
“Come, Seagrove, don’t be nonsensical,” said Hautaine; “you told me yourself, the other evening, when you were talkative, that you had never had a brief in your life.”
“And a very fortunate circumstance,” replied Seagrove; “for if I had had a brief I should not have known what to have done with it. It is not my fault; I am fit for nothing but a commissioner. But still I had business, and very important business, too. I was summoned by Ponsonby to go with him to Tattersall’s, to give my opinion about a horse he wishes to purchase, and then to attend him to Forest Wild to plead his cause with his uncle.”
“It appears, then, that you were retained,” replied Lord B—; “may I ask you whether your friend gained his cause?”
“No, my lord, he lost his cause, but he gained a suit.”
“Expound your riddle, sir,” said Cecilia Ossulton.
“The fact is, that old Ponsonby is very anxious that William should marry Miss Percival, whose estates join on to Forest Wild. Now, my friend William is about as fond of marriage as I am of law, and thereby issue was joined.”
“But why were you to be called in?” inquired Mrs Lascelles.
“Because, madam, as Ponsonby never buys a horse without consulting me—”
“I cannot see the analogy, sir,” observed Miss Ossulton, senior, bridling up.
“Pardon me, madam: the fact is,” continued Seagrove, “that, as I always have to back Ponsonby’s horses, he thought it right that, in this instance, I should back him; he required special pleading, but his uncle tried him for the capital offence, and he was not allowed counsel. As soon as we arrived, and I had bowed myself into the room, Mr Ponsonby bowed me out again—which would have been infinitely more jarring to my feelings, had not the door been left a-jar.”
“Do anything but pun, Seagrove,” interrupted Hautaine.
“Well, then, I will take a glass of wine.”
“Do so,” said his lordship; “but recollect the whole company are impatient for your story.”
“I can assure you, my lord, that it was equal to any scene in a comedy.”
Now be it observed that Mr Seagrove had a great deal of comic talent; he was an excellent mimic, and could alter his voice almost as he pleased. It was a custom of his to act a scene as between other people, and he performed it remarkably well. Whenever he said that anything he was going to narrate was “as good as a comedy,” it was generally understood by those who were acquainted with him that he was to be asked so to do. Cecilia Ossulton therefore immediately said, “Pray act it, Mr Seagrove.”
Upon which, Mr Seagrove—premising that he had not only heard, but also seen all that passed—changing his voice, and suiting the action to the word, commenced.
“It may,” said he, “be called:—
We shall not describe Mr Seagrove’s motions; they must be inferred from his words.
“‘It will, then, William,’ observed Mr Ponsonby, stopping, and turning to his nephew, after a rapid walk up and down the room with his hands behind him under his coat, so as to allow the tails to drop their perpendicular about three inches clear of his body, ‘I may say, without contradiction, be the finest property in the country—five thousand acres in a ring-fence.’
“‘I dare say it will, uncle,’ replied William, tapping his foot as he lounged in a green morocco easy-chair; ‘and so, because you have set your fancy upon having these two estates enclosed together in a ring-fence, you wish that I should also be enclosed in a ring-fence.’
“‘And a beautiful property it will be,’ replied Mr Ponsonby.
“‘Which, uncle? The estate or the wife?’
“‘Both, nephew, both; and I expect your consent.’
“‘Uncle, I am not avaricious. Your present property is sufficient for me. With your permission, instead of doubling the property, and doubling myself, I will remain your sole heir, and single.’
“‘Observe, William, such an opportunity may not occur again for centuries. We shall restore Forest Wild to its ancient boundaries. You know it has been divided nearly two hundred years. We now have a glorious, golden opportunity of re-uniting the two properties; and when joined, the estate will be exactly what it was when granted to our ancestors by Henry the Eighth, at the period of the Reformation. This house must be pulled down, and the monastery left standing. Then we shall have our own again, and the property without encumbrance.’
“‘Without encumbrance, uncle! You forget that, there will be a wife.’
“‘And you forget that there will be five thousand acres in a ring-fence.’
“‘Indeed, uncle, you ring it too often in my ears that I should forget it. But, much as I should like to be the happy possessor of such a property, I do not feel inclined to be the happy possessor of Miss Percival; and the more so, as I have never seen the property.’
“‘We will ride over it to-morrow, William.’
“‘Ride over Miss Percival, uncle! That will not be very gallant. I will, however, one of these days ride over the property with you, which, as well as Miss Percival, I have not as yet seen.’
“‘Then I can tell you she is a very pretty property.’
“‘If she were not in a ring-fence.’
“‘In good heart, William. That is, I mean an excellent disposition.’
“‘Valuable in matrimony.’
“‘And well tilled—I should say well educated—by her three maiden aunts, who are the patterns of propriety.’
“‘Does any one follow the fashion?’
“‘In a high state of cultivation; that is, her mind highly cultivated, and according to the last new system—what is it?’
“‘A four-course shift, I presume,’ replied William, laughing; ‘that is, dancing, singing, music, and drawing.’
“‘And only seventeen! Capital soil, promising good crops. What would you have more?’
“‘A very pretty estate, uncle, if it were not the estate of matrimony. I am sorry, very sorry, to disappoint you; but I must decline taking a lease of it for life.’
“‘Then, sir, allow me to hint to you that in my testament you are only a tenant-at-will. I consider it a duty that I owe to the family that the estate should be re-united. That can only be done by one of our family marrying Miss Percival; and as you will not, I shall now write to your cousin James, and if he accept my proposal, shall make him my heir. Probably he will more fully appreciate the advantages of five thousand acres in a ring-fence.’
“And Mr Ponsonby directed his steps towards the door.
“‘Stop, my dear uncle,’ cried William, rising up from his easy-chair; ‘we do not quite understand one another. It is very true that I would prefer half the property and remaining single, to the two estates and the estate of marriage; but at the same time I did not tell you that I would prefer beggary to a wife and five thousand acres in a ring-fence. I know you to be a man of your word. I accept your proposal, and you need not put my cousin James to the expense of postage.’
“‘Very good, William; I require no more: and as I know you to be a man of your word, I shall consider this match as settled. It was on this account only that I sent for you, and now you may go back again as soon as you please. I will let you know when all is ready.’
“‘I must be at Tattersall’s on Monday, uncle; there is a horse I must have for next season. Pray, uncle, may I ask when you are likely to want me?’
“‘Let me see—this is May—about July, I