While he still hung in the wind, a recollection returned upon his mind with some of the dignity of prophecy. Had he not promised Somerset to break with the traditions of the commonplace, and to accept the first adventure offered?
Well, here was the adventure.
He thrust the money into his pocket.
'My name is Challoner,' said he.
'Mr. Challoner,' she replied, 'you have come very generously to my aid when all was against me. Though I am myself a very humble person, my family commands great interest; and I do not think you will repent this handsome action.'
Challoner flushed with pleasure.
'I imagine that, perhaps, a consulship,' she added, her eyes dwelling on him with a judicial admiration, 'a consulship in some great town or capital - or else - But we waste time; let us set about the work of my delivery.'
She took his arm with a frank confidence that went to his heart; and once more laying by all serious thoughts, she entertained him, as they crossed the park, with her agreeable gaiety of mind. Near the Marble Arch they found a hansom, which rapidly conveyed them to the terminus at Euston Square; and here, in the hotel, they sat down to an excellent breakfast. The young lady's first step was to call for writing materials and write, upon one corner of the table, a hasty note; still, as she did so, glancing with smiles at her companion. 'Here,' said she, 'here is the letter which will introduce you to my cousin.' She began to fold the paper.
'My cousin, although I have never seen her, has the character of a very charming woman and a recognised beauty; of that I know nothing, but at least she has been very kind to me; so has my lord her father; so have you - kinder than all - kinder than I can bear to think of.' She said this with unusual emotion; and, at the same time, sealed the envelope.
'Ah!' she cried, 'I have shut my letter! It is not quite courteous; and yet, as between friends, it is perhaps better so. I introduce you, after all, into a family secret; and though you and I are already old comrades, you are still unknown to my uncle. You go then to this address, Richard Street, Glasgow; go, please, as soon as you arrive; and give this letter with your own hands into those of Miss Fonblanque, for that is the name by which she is to pass.
When we next meet, you will tell me what you think of her,' she added, with a touch of the provocative.
'Ah,' said Challoner, almost tenderly, 'she can be nothing to me.'
'You do not know,' replied the young lady, with a sigh. 'By-the-bye, I had forgotten - it is very childish, and I am almost ashamed to mention it - but when you see Miss Fonblanque, you will have to make yourself a little ridiculous; and I am sure the part in no way suits you. We had agreed upon a watchword. You will have to address an earl's daughter in these words: "NIGGER, NIGGER, NEVER DIE;" but reassure yourself,' she added, laughing, 'for the fair patrician will at once finish the quotation. Come now, say your lesson.'
'"Nigger, nigger, never die,"' repeated Challoner, with undisguised reluctance.
Miss Fonblanque went into fits of laughter. 'Excellent,' said she, 'it will be the most humorous scene.' And she laughed again.
'And what will be the counterword?' asked Challoner stiffly.
'I will not tell you till the last moment,' said she; 'for I perceive you are growing too imperious.'
Breakfast over, she accompanied the young man to the platform, bought him the GRAPHIC, the ATHENAEUM, and a paper-cutter, and stood on the step conversing till the whistle sounded. Then she put her head into the carriage. 'BLACK FACE AND SHINING EYE!' she whispered, and instantly leaped down upon the platform, with a thrill of gay and musical laughter. As the train steamed out of the great arch of glass, the sound of that laughter still rang in the young man's ears.
Challoner's position was too unusual to be long welcome to his mind. He found himself projected the whole length of England, on a mission beset with obscure and ridiculous circumstances, and yet, by the trust he had accepted, irrevocably bound to persevere. How easy it appeared, in the retrospect, to have refused the whole proposal, returned the money, and gone forth again upon his own affairs, a free and happy man! And it was now impossible: the enchantress who had held him with her eye had now disappeared, taking his honour in pledge; and as she had failed to leave him an address, he was denied even the inglorious safety of retreat.
To use the paper-knife, or even to read the periodicals with which she had presented him, was to renew the bitterness of his remorse; and as he was alone in the compartment, he passed the day staring at the landscape in impotent repentance, and long before he was landed on the platform of St. Enoch's, had fallen to the lowest and coldest zones of self-contempt.
As he was hungry, and elegant in his habits, he would have preferred to dine and to remove the stains of travel; but the words of the young lady, and his own impatient eagerness, would suffer no delay. In the late, luminous, and lamp-starred dusk of the summer evening, he accordingly set forward with brisk steps.
The street to which he was directed had first seen the day in the character of a row of small suburban villas on a hillside; but the extension of the city had long since, and on every hand, surrounded it with miles of streets. From the top of the hill a range of very tall buildings, densely inhabited by the poorest classes of the population and variegated by drying-poles from every second window, overplumbed the villas and their little gardens like a sea-board cliff. But still, under the grime of years of city smoke, these antiquated cottages, with their venetian blinds and rural porticoes, retained a somewhat melancholy savour of the past.
The street when Challoner entered it was perfectly deserted.
