Produced by David Widger
By Winston Churchill
XLII. My Friends are proven
XLIII. Annapolis once more
XLIV. Noblesse Oblige
XLV. The House of Memories
XLVI. Gordon's Pride
XLVII. Visitors
XLVIII. Multum in Parvo
XLIX. Liberty loses a Friend
At the door of my lodgings I was confronted by Banks, red withindignation and fidgety from uneasiness.
"O Lord, Mr. Carvel, what has happened, sir?" he cried. "Your honour'sagent 'as been here since noon. Must I take orders from the likes o'him, sir?"
Mr. Dix was indeed in possession of my rooms, lounging in the chair Dollyhad chosen, smoking my tobacco. I stared at him from the threshold.Something in my appearance, or force of habit, or both brought him to hisfeet, and wiped away the smirk from his face. He put down the pipeguiltily. I told him shortly that I had heard the news which he musthave got by the packet: and that he should have his money, tho' it tookthe rest of my life: and the ten per cent I had promised him provided hewould not press my Lord Comyn. He hesitated, and drummed on the table.He was the man of business again.
"What security am I to have, Mr. Carvel?" he asked.
"My word," I said. "It has never yet been broken, I thank God, nor myfather's before me. And hark ye, Mr. Dix, you shall not be able to saythat of Grafton." Truly I thought the principal and agent were now wellmatched.
"Very good, Mr. Carvel," he said; "ten per cent. I shall call with thepapers on Monday morning."
"I shall not run away before that," I replied.
He got out, with a poor attempt at a swagger, without his customaryprotestations of duty and humble offers of service. And I thanked Heavenhe had not made a scene, which in my state of mind I could not haveborne, but must have laid hands upon him. Perhaps he believed Graftonnot yet secure in his title. I did not wonder then, in the heat of myyouth, that he should have accepted my honour as security. But since Ihave marvelled not a little at this. The fine gentlemen at Brooks's withwhom I had been associating were none too scrupulous, and regardedmoney-lenders as legitimate prey. Debts of honour they paid but tardily,if at all. A certain nobleman had been owing my Lord Carlisle thirteenthousand pounds for a couple of years, that his Lordship had won athazard. And tho' I blush to write it, Mr. Fox himself was notorious insuch matters, and was in debt to each of the coterie of fashionables ofwhich he was the devoted chief.
The faithful Banks vowed, with tears in his eyes, that he would neverdesert me. And in that moment of dejection the poor fellow's devotionbrought me no little comfort. At such times the heart is bitter. Welook askance at our friends, and make the task of comfort doubly hard forthose that remain true. I had a great affection for the man, and hadbecome so used to his ways and unwearying service that I had not thecourage to refuse his prayers to go with me to America. I had not afarthing of my own—he would serve me for nothing—nay, work for me."Sure," he said, taking off my coat and bringing me my gown,—"Sure, yourhonour was not made to work." To cheer me he went on with some foolishfootman's gossip that there lacked not ladies with jointures who wouldmarry me, and be thankful. I smiled sadly.
"That was when I was Mr. Carvel's heir, Banks."
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