The Tenant of Wildfell Hall (Penguin Classics) (29 page)

‘“Is it to be the last, Lowborough?” said I, stepping up to him.

‘“The last but
ONE
,” he answered, with a grim smile; and then, rushing back to the table, he struck his hand upon it, and raising his voice high above all the confusion of jingling coins and muttered oaths and curses in the room, he swore a deep and solemn oath that, come what would, T
HIS
trial
should
be the last, and imprecated unspeakable curses on his head, if ever he should shuffle a card or rattle a dice-box again. He then doubled his former stake, and challenged anyone present to play against him. Grimsby instantly presented himself. Lowborough glared fiercely at him, for Grimsby was almost as celebrated for his luck as
he
was for his ill-fortune. However, they fell to work. But Grimsby had much skill and little scruple, and whether he took advantage of the other’s trembling, blinded eagerness to deal unfairly by him, I cannot undertake to say; but Lowborough lost again, and fell dead sick.

‘“You’d better try once more,” said Grimsby, leaning across the table. And then he winked at me.

‘“I’ve nothing to try with,” said the poor devil, with a ghastly smile.
⁵

‘“Oh, Huntingdon will lend you what you want,” said the other.

‘“No; you heard my oath,” answered Lowborough, turning away in quiet despair. And I took him by the arm and led him out.

‘“Is it to be the last, Lowborough?” I asked, when I got him into the street.

‘“The last,” he answered, somewhat against my expectation. And I took him home – that is, to our club
⁶
– for he was as submissive as a child, and plied him with brandy and water till he began to look rather brighter – rather more alive, at least.

‘“Huntingdon, I’m ruined!” said he, taking the third glass from my hand – he had drunk the other in dead silence.

‘“Not you!” said I. “You’ll find a man can live without his money as merrily as a tortoise without its head, or a wasp without its body.”

‘“But I’m in debt,” said he – “deep in debt! And I can never,
never
get out of it!”

‘“Well, what of that? many a better man than you has lived and died in debt, and they can’t put you in prison, you know, because you’re a peer.”
⁷
And I handed him his fourth tumbler.

‘“But I hate to be in debt!” he shouted. “I wasn’t born for it, and I cannot
bear
it!”

‘“What can’t be cured must be endured,”
⁸
said I, beginning to mix the fifth.

‘“And then, I’ve lost my Caroline.” And he began to snivel then, for the brandy had softened his heart.

‘“No matter,” I answered, “there are more Carolines in the world than one.”

‘“There’s only one for me,” he replied, with a dolorous sigh. “And if there were fifty more, who’s to get them, I wonder, without money?”

‘“Oh, somebody will take you for your title; and then you’ve your family estate yet; that’s entailed, you know.”

‘“I wish to God I could sell it to pay my debts,” he muttered.

‘“And then,” said Grimsby, who had just come in, “you can
try again
, you know. I
would
have one more chance if I were you. I’d never stop here.”

‘“I
won’t
, I tell you!” shouted he. And he started up and left the room – walking rather unsteadily, for the liquor had got into his head. He was not so much used to it then, but after that, he took to it kindly to solace his cares.

‘He kept his oath about gambling (not a little to the surprise of us all), though Grimsby did his utmost to tempt him to break it; but now he had got hold of another habit that bothered him nearly as much, for he soon discovered that the demon of drink was as black as the demon of play, and nearly as hard to get rid of – especially as his kind friends did all they could to second the promptings of his own insatiable cravings.’

‘Then, they were demons themselves,’
⁹
cried I, unable to contain my indignation. ‘And you, Mr Huntingdon, it seems, were the first to tempt him.’

‘Well, what could we do?’ replied he, deprecatingly – ‘We meant it in kindness – we couldn’t bear to see the poor fellow so miserable:
– and besides, he was such a damper upon us, sitting there, silent and glum, when he was under the threefold influence of the loss of his sweetheart, the loss of his fortune, and the reaction of the last night’s debauch; whereas, when he had something in him, if he was not merry himself, he was an unfailing source of merriment to us. Even Grimsby could chuckle over his odd sayings: they delighted him far more than my merry jests or Hattersley’s riotous mirth. But one evening, when we were sitting over our wine, after one of our club dinners, and had all been hearty together, – Lowborough giving us mad toasts, and hearing our wild songs and bearing a hand in the applause, if he did not help us to sing them himself, – he suddenly relapsed into silence, sinking his head on his hand, and never lifting his glass to his lips; – but this was nothing new; so we let him alone, and went on with our jollification, till, suddenly raising his head, he interrupted us in the middle of a roar of laughter, by exclaiming, –

‘“Gentlemen, where is all this to end? – Will you just tell me
that
now? – Where is it all to end?”

‘“In hell fire,” growled Grimsby.

‘“You’ve hit it – I thought so!” cried he. “Well then, I’ll tell you what” – he rose.

‘“A speech, a speech!” shouted we. “Hear, hear! Lowborough’s going to give us a speech!”

‘He waited calmly till the thunders of applause and jingling of glasses had ceased, and then proceeded, –

‘“It’s only this, gentlemen, – that I think we’d better go no farther. We’d better stop while we can.”

‘“Just so!” cried Hattersley –

”Stop poor sinner, stop and think
¹⁰
Before you farther go,
No longer sport upon the brink
Of everlasting woe.”

‘“Exactly!” replied his lordship, with the utmost gravity. “And if
you
choose to visit the bottomless pit, I won’t go with you – we must part company, for I swear I’ll not move another step towards it! – What’s this?” he said, taking up his glass of wine.

‘“Taste it,” suggested I.

‘“This is hell broth!” he exclaimed. “I renounce it for ever!” And he threw it out into the middle of the table.

‘“Fill again!” said I, handing him the bottle – “and let us drink to your renunciation.”

‘“It’s rank poison,” said he, grasping the bottle by the neck, “and I forswear it! I’ve given up gambling, and I’ll give up this too.” He was on the point of deliberately pouring the whole contents of the bottle on to the table, but Hargrave wrested it from him. “On you be the curse, then!” said he. And backing from the room, he shouted, “Farewell, ye tempters!” and vanished amid shouts of laughter and applause.

‘We expected him back among us the next day; but to our surprise, the place remained vacant: we saw nothing of him for a whole week; and we really began to think he was going to keep his word. At last, one evening, when we were most of us assembled together again, he entered, silent and grim as a ghost, and would have quietly slipped into his usual seat at my elbow, but we all rose to welcome him, and several voices were raised to ask what he would have, and several hands were busy with bottle and glass to serve him; but I knew a smoking tumbler of brandy and water would comfort him best, and had nearly prepared it, when he peevishly pushed it away, saying,

‘“Do let me alone, Huntingdon! Do be quiet, all of you! I’m not come to join you: I’m only come to be with you awhile, because I can’t bear my own thoughts.” And he folded his arms and leant back in his chair; so we let him be. But I left the glass by him; and after a while, Grimsby directed my attention towards it, by a significant wink; and, on turning my head, I saw it was drained to the bottom. He made me a sign to replenish, and quietly pushed up the bottle. I willingly complied; but Lowborough detected the pantomime, and, nettled at the intelligent grins that were passing between us, snatched the glass from my hand, dashed the contents of it in Grimsby’s face, threw the empty tumbler at me,’ and then bolted from the room.’

‘I hope he broke your head,’ said I.

‘No, love,’ replied he, laughing immoderately at the recollection
of the whole affair, ‘he would have done so, – and perhaps spoilt my face, too, but providentially,
¹¹
this forest of curls,’ (taking off his hat and showing his luxuriant chestnut locks), ‘saved my skull, and prevented the glass from breaking till it reached the table.

‘After that,’ he continued, ‘Lowborough kept aloof from us a week or two longer. I used to meet him occasionally in the town; and then, as I was too good natured to resent his unmannerly conduct, and he bore no malice against me, – he was never unwilling to talk to me; on the contrary, he would cling to me and follow me anywhere, – but to the club, and the gaming-houses, and suchlike dangerous places of resort – he was so weary of his own moping, melancholy mind. At last, I got him to come in with me to the club, on condition that I would not tempt him to drink; and for some time, he continued to look in upon us pretty regularly of an evening, – still abstaining, with wonderful perseverance, from the “rank poison” he had so bravely forsworn. But some of our members protested against this conduct. They did not like to have him sitting there like a skeleton at a feast,
¹²
instead of contributing his quota to the general amusement, casting a cloud over all, and watching, with greedy eyes, every drop they carried to their lips, they vowed it was not fair; and some of them maintained that he should either be compelled to do as others did or expelled from the society, and swore that, next time he showed himself, they would tell him as much, and, if he did not take the warning, proceed to active measures. However, I befriended him on this occasion, and recommended them to let him be for a while, intimating that, with a little patience on our parts, he would soon come round again – But, to be sure, it
was
rather provoking; for though he refused to drink like an honest Christian, it was well known to me, that he kept a private bottle of laudanum about him, which he was continually soaking at – or rather, holding off and on with, abstaining one day and exceeding the next, just like the spirits.

‘One night, however, during one of our orgies – one of our high festivals, I mean – he glided in, like the ghost in Macbeth,
¹³
and seated himself, as usual, a little back from the table, in the chair we always placed for “the spectre,” whether it chose to fill it or not. I saw by his face that he was suffering from the effects of an overdose
of his insidious comforter, but nobody spoke to him, and he spoke to nobody. A few sidelong glances, and a whispered observation that “the ghost was come,” was all the notice he drew by his appearance, and we went on with our merry carousals as before, till he startled us all by suddenly drawing in his chair and leaning forward with his elbows on the table, and exclaiming with portentous solemnity, –

‘“Well! it puzzles me what you can find to be so merry about. What
you
see in life I don’t know – I see only the blackness of darkness and a fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation!”
¹⁴

‘All the company simultaneously pushed up their glasses to him, and I set them before him in a semicircle, and, tenderly patting him on the back, bid him drink and he would soon see as bright a prospect as any of us; but he pushed them back, muttering, –

‘“Take them away! I won’t taste it, I tell you – I won’t – I won’t!” So I handed them down again to the owners; but I saw that he followed them with a glare of hungry regret as they departed. Then, he clasped his hands before his eyes to shut out the sight, and two minutes after, lifted his head again, and said, in a hoarse but vehement whisper, –

‘“And yet I must! Huntingdon, get me a glass!”

‘“Take the bottle, man!” said I, thrusting the brandy-bottle into his hand – but stop, I’m telling too much,’ muttered the narrator, startled at the look I turned upon him. ‘But no matter,’ he recklessly added, and thus continued his relation – ‘In his desperate eagerness, he seized the bottle and sucked away, till he suddenly dropped from his chair, disappearing under the table amid a tempest of applause. The consequence of this imprudence was something like an apoplectic fit, followed by a rather severe brain fever –’
¹⁵

‘And what did you think of
yourself
, sir?’ said I, quickly.

‘Of course, I was very penitent,’ he replied. ‘I went to see him once or twice – nay, twice or thrice – or, by’r lady, some four times, – and when he got better, I tenderly brought him back to the fold.’
¹⁶

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, I restored him to the bosom of the club, and, compassionating the feebleness of his health and extreme lowness of his spirits, I
recommended him to “take a little wine for his stomach’s sake,”
¹⁷
and, when he was sufficiently re-established, to embrace the
media-via, ni-jamais-ni-toujours
^l8
plan – not to kill himself like a fool, and not to abstain like a ninny – in a word, to enjoy himself like a rational creature, and do as I did; – for don’t think, Helen, that I’m a tippler; I’m nothing at all of the kind, and never was, and never shall be. I value my comfort far too much. I see that a man cannot give himself up to drinking without being miserable one half his days and mad the other; – besides, I like to enjoy my life at all sides and ends, which cannot be done by one that suffers himself to be the slave of a single propensity – and moreover, drinking spoils one’s good looks,’ he concluded, with a most conceited smile that ought to have provoked me more than it did.

‘And did Lord Lowborough profit by your advice?’ I asked.

‘Why, yes, in a manner. For a while, he managed very well; indeed, he was a model of moderation and prudence – something too much so for the tastes of our wild community; – but, somehow, Lowborough had not the gift of moderation: if he stumbled a little to one side, he must go down before he could right himself: if he overshot the mark one night, the effects of it rendered him so miserable the next day that he must repeat the offence to mend it; and so on from day to day, till his clamorous conscience brought him to a stand. – And then, in his sober moments, he so bothered his friends with his remorse, and his terrors and woes, that they were obliged, in self-defence, to get him to drown his sorrows in wine, or any more potent beverage that came to hand; and when his first scruples of conscience were overcome, he would need no more persuading, he would often grow desperate, and be as great a blackguard as any of them could desire – but only to lament his own unutterable wickedness and degradation the more when the fit was over.