The Bedford Row Conspiracy
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William Makepeace Thackeray >> The Bedford Row Conspiracy
"With the governess, of course," said Mr. Crampton, firmly. "Do you
suppose that any man dare breathe a syllable against your spotless
reputation? Never, my dear madam; but what I would urge is this-
-you have treated your disappointed admirer too cruelly."
"What! the traitor who has robbed us of our rights?"
"He never would have robbed you of your rights if you had been more
kind to him. You should be gentle, madam; you should forgive him-
-you should be friends with him."
"With a traitor, never!"
"Think what made him a traitor, Lady Gorgon; look in your glass, and
say if there be not some excuse for him? Think of the feelings of
the man who saw beauty such as yours--I am a plain man and must
speak--virtue such as yours, in the possession of a rival. By
heavens, madam, I think he was RIGHT to hate Sir George Gorgon!
Would you have him allow such a prize to be ravished from him
without a pang on his part?"
"He was, I believe, very much attached to me," said Lady Gorgon,
quite delighted; "but you must be aware that a young man of his
station in life could not look up to a person of my rank."
"Surely not: it was monstrous pride and arrogance in Mr. Scully.
But que voulez-vous? Such is the world's way. Scully could not
help loving you--who that knows you can? I am a plain man, and say
what I think. He loves you still. Why make an enemy of him, who
would at a word be at your feet? Dearest Lady Gorgon, listen to me.
Sir George Gorgon and Mr. Scully have already met--their meeting was
our contrivance. It is for our interest, for yours, that they
should be friends. If there were two Ministerial Members for
Oldborough, do you think your husband's peerage would be less
secure? I am not at liberty to tell you all I know on this subject;
but do, I entreat you, be reconciled to him."
And after a little more conversation, which was carried on by Mr.
Crampton in the same tender way, this important interview closed,
and Lady Gorgon, folding her shawl round her, threaded certain
mysterious passages and found her way to her carriage in Whitehall.
"I hope you have not been listening, you rogue?" said Mr. Crampton
to his nephew, who blushed most absurdly by way of answer. "You
would have heard great State secrets, if you had dared to do so.
That woman is perpetually here, and if peerages are to be had for
the asking, she ought to have been a duchess by this time. I would
not have admitted her but for a reason that I have. Go you now and
ponder upon what you have heard and seen. Be on good terms with
Scully, and, above all, speak not a word concerning our
interview--no, not a word even to your mistress. By the way, I
presume, sir, you will recall your resignation?"
The bewildered Perkins was about to stammer out a speech, when his
uncle, cutting it short, pushed him gently out of the door.
* * *
At the period when the important events occurred which have been
recorded here, parties ran very high, and a mighty struggle for the
vacant Speakership was about to come on. The Right Honourable
Robert Pincher was the Ministerial candidate, and Sir Charles
Macabaw was patronised by the Opposition. The two Members for
Oldborough of course took different sides, the baronet being of the
Pincher faction, while Mr. William Pitt Scully strongly supported
the Macabaw party.
It was Mr. Scully's intention to deliver an impromptu speech upon
the occasion of the election, and he and his faithful Perkins
prepared it between them: for the latter gentleman had wisely kept
his uncle's counsel and his own and Mr. Scully was quite ignorant of
the conspiracy that was brooding. Indeed, so artfully had that
young Machiavel of a Perkins conducted himself, that when asked by
his patron whether he had given up his place in the Tape and Sealing
Wax Office, he replied that "he HAD tendered his resignation," but
did not say one word about having recalled it.
"You were right, my boy, quite right," said Mr. Scully. "A man of
uncompromising principles should make no compromise." And herewith
he sat down and wrote off a couple of letters, one to Mr. Hawksby,
telling him that the place in the Sealing-Wax Office was, as he had
reason to know, vacant; and the other to his nephew, stating that it
was to be his. "Under the rose, my dear Bob," added Mr. Scully, "it
will cost you five hundred pounds; but you cannot invest your money
better."
It is needless to state that the affair was to be conducted "with
the strictest secresy and honour," and that the money was to pass
through Mr. Scully's hands.
While, however, the great Pincher and Macabaw question was yet
undecided, an event occurred to Mr. Scully, which had a great
influence upon his after-life. A second grand banquet was given at
the Earl of Mantrap's: Lady Mantrap requested him to conduct Lady
Gorgon to dinner; and the latter, with a charming timidity, and a
gracious melancholy look into his face (after which her veined
eyelids veiled her azure eyes), put her hand into the trembling one
of Mr. Scully and said as much as looks could say, "Forgive and
forget."
Down went Scully to dinner. There were dukes on his right hand and
earls on his left; there were but two persons without title in the
midst of that glittering assemblage; the very servants looked like
noblemen. The cook had done wonders; the wines were cool and rich,
and Lady Gorgon was splendid! What attention did everybody pay to
her and to him! Why WOULD she go on gazing into his face with that
tender imploring look? In other words, Scully, after partaking of
soup and fish (he, during their discussion, had been thinking over
all the former love-and-hate passages between himself and Lady
Gorgon), turned very red, and began talking to her.
"Were you not at the opera on Tuesday?" began he, assuming at once
the airs of a man of fashion. "I thought I caught a glimpse of you
in the Duchess of Diddlebury's box."
"Opera, Mr. Scully?" (pronouncing the word "Scully" with the utmost
softness). "Ah, no! we seldom go, and yet too often. For serious
persons the enchantments of that place are too dangerous. I am so
nervous--so delicate; the smallest trifle so agitates, depresses, or
irritates me, that I dare not yield myself up to the excitement of
music. I am too passionately attached to it; and, shall I tell you?
it has such a strange influence upon me, that the smallest false
note almost drives me to distraction, and for that very reason I
hardly ever go to a concert or a ball."
"Egad," thought Scully, "I recollect when she would dance down a
matter of five-and-forty couple, and jingle away at the 'Battle of
Prague' all day."
She continued: "Don't you recollect, I do, with--oh, what regret!-
-that day at Oldborough race-ball, when I behaved with such sad
rudeness to you? You will scarcely believe me, and yet I assure you
'tis the fact, the music had made me almost mad. Do let me ask your
pardon for my conduct. I was not myself. Oh, Mr. Scully! I am no
worldly woman; I know my duties, and I feel my wrongs. Nights and
days have I lain awake weeping and thinking of that unhappy day-
-that I should ever speak so to an old friend; for we WERE old
friends, were we not?"
Scully did not speak; but his eyes were bursting out of his head,
and his face was the exact colour of a deputy-lieutenant's uniform.
"That I should ever forget myself and you so! How I have been
longing for this opportunity to ask you to forgive me! I asked Lady
Mantrap, when I heard you were to be here, to invite me to her
party. Come, I know you will forgive me--your eyes say you will.
You used to look so in old days, and forgive me my caprices THEN.
Do give me a little wine--we will drink to the memory of old days."
Her eyes filled with tears; and poor Scully's hand caused such a
rattling and trembling of the glass and the decanter that the Duke
of Doldrum--who had been, during the course of this whispered
sentimentality, describing a famous run with the Queen's hounds at
the top of his voice--stopped at the jingling of the glass, and his
tale was lost for ever. Scully hastily drank his wine, and Lady
Gorgon turned round to her next neighbour, a little gentleman in
black, between whom and herself certain conscious looks passed.
"I am glad poor Sir George is not here," said he, smiling.
Lady Gorgon said, "Pooh, for shame!" The little gentleman was no
other than Josiah Crampton, Esquire, that eminent financier, and he
was now going through the curious calculation before mentioned, by
which you BUY A MAN FOR NOTHING. He intended to pay the very same
price for Sir George Gorgon, too; but there was no need to tell the
baronet so; only of this the reader must be made aware.
While Mr. Crampton was conducting this intrigue, which was to bring
a new recruit to the Ministerial ranks, his mighty spirit
condescended to ponder upon subjects of infinitely less importance,
and to arrange plans for the welfare of his nephew and the young
woman to whom he had made a present of his heart. These young
persons, as we said before, had arranged to live in Mr. Perkins's
own house in Bedford Row. It was of a peculiar construction, and
might more properly be called a house and a half: for a snug little
tenement of four chambers protruded from the back of the house into
the garden. These rooms communicated with the drawing-rooms
occupied by Mr. Scully; and Perkins, who acted as his friend and
secretary, used frequently to sit in the one nearest the Member's
study, in order that he might be close at hand to confer with that
great man. The rooms had a private entrance too, were newly
decorated, and in them the young couple proposed to live; the
kitchen and garrets being theirs likewise. What more could they
need? We are obliged to be particular in describing these
apartments, for extraordinary events occurred therein.
To say the truth, until the present period Mr. Crampton had taken no
great interest in his nephew's marriage, or, indeed, in the young
man himself. The old gentleman was of a saturnine turn, and
inclined to undervalue the qualities of Mr. Perkins, which were
idleness, simplicity, enthusiasm, and easy good-nature.
"Such fellows never do anything in the world," he would say, and for
such he had accordingly the most profound contempt. But when, after
John Perkins's repeated entreaties, he had been induced to make the
acquaintance of Miss Gorgon, he became instantly charmed with her,
and warmly espoused her cause against her overbearing relations.
At his suggestion she wrote back to decline Sir George Gorgon's
peremptory invitation, and hinted at the same time that she had
attained an age and a position which enabled her to be the mistress
of her own actions. To this letter there came an answer from Lady
Gorgon which we shall not copy, but which simply stated that Miss
Lucy Gorgon's conduct was unchristian, ungrateful, unladylike, and
immodest; that the Gorgon family disowned her for the future, and
left her at liberty to form whatever base connections she pleased.
"A pretty world this," said Mr. Crampton, in a great rage, when the
letter was shown to him. "This same fellow, Scully, dissuades my
nephew from taking a place, because Scully wants it for himself.
This prude of a Lady Gorgon cries out shame, and disowns an innocent
amiable girl: she a heartless jilt herself once, and a heartless
flirt now. The Pharisees, the Pharisees! And to call mine a base
family, too!"
Now, Lady Gorgon did not in the least know Mr. Crampton's connection
with Mr. Perkins, or she would have been much more guarded in her
language; but whether she knew it or not, the old gentleman felt a
huge indignation, and determined to have his revenge.
"That's right, Uncle! SHALL I call Gorgon out?" said the impetuous
young Perkins, who was all for blood.
"John, you are a fool," said his uncle. "You shall have a better
revenge: you shall be married from Sir George Gorgon's house, and
you shall see Mr. William Pitt Scully sold for nothing." This to
the veteran diplomatist seemed to be the highest triumph which man
could possibly enjoy.
It was very soon to take place: and, as has been the case ever
since the world began, woman, lovely woman was to be the cause of
Scully's fall. The tender scene at Lord Mantrap's was followed by
many others equally sentimental. Sir George Gorgon called upon his
colleague the very next day, and brought with him a card from Lady
Gorgon inviting Mr. Scully to dinner. The attorney eagerly accepted
the invitation, was received in Baker Street by the whole amiable
family with much respectful cordiality, and was pressed to repeat
his visits as country neighbours should. More than once did he
call, and somehow always at the hour when Sir George was away at his
club, or riding in the Park, or elsewhere engaged. Sir George
Gorgon was very old, very feeble, very much shattered in
constitution. Lady Gorgon used to impart her fears to Mr. Scully
every time he called there, and the sympathising attorney used to
console her as best he might. Sir George's country agent neglected
the property--his lady consulted Mr. Scully concerning it. He knew
to a fraction how large her jointure was; how she was to have Gorgon
Castle for her life; and how, in the event of the young baronet's
death (he, too, was a sickly poor boy), the chief part of the
estates, bought by her money, would be at her absolute disposal.
"What a pity these odious politics prevent me from having you for
our agent," would Lady Gorgon say; and indeed Scully thought it was
a pity too. Ambitious Scully! what wild notions filled his brain.
He used to take leave of Lady Gorgon and ruminate upon these things;
and when he was gone, Sir George and her Ladyship used to laugh.
"If we can but commit him--if we can but make him vote for Pincher,"
said the General, "my peerage is secure. Hawksby and Crampton as
good as told me so."
The point had been urged upon Mr. Scully repeatedly and adroitly.
"Is not Pincher a more experienced man than Macabaw?" would Sir
George say to his guest over their wine. Scully allowed it. "Can't
you vote for him on personal grounds, and say so in the House?"
Scully wished he could--how he wished he could! Every time the
General coughed, Scully saw his friend's desperate situation more
and more, and thought how pleasant it would be to be lord of Gorgon
Castle. "Knowing my property," cried Sir George, "as you do, and
with your talents and integrity, what a comfort it would be could I
leave you as guardian to my boy! But these cursed politics prevent
it, my dear fellow. Why WILL you be a Radical?" And Scully cursed
politics too. "Hang the low-bred rogue," added Sir George, when
William Pitt Scully left the house: "he will do everything but
promise."
"My dear General," said Lady Gorgon, sidling up to him and patting
him on his old yellow cheek--"My dear Georgy, tell me one
thing,--are you jealous?"
"Jealous, my dear! and jealous of THAT fellow--pshaw!"
"Well, then, give me leave, and you shall have the promise
to-morrow."
* * *
To-morrow arrived. It was a remarkably fine day, and in the
forenoon Mr. Perkins gave his accustomed knock at Scully's study,
which was only separated from his own sitting-room by a double door.
John had wisely followed his uncle's advice, and was on the best
terms with the honourable Member.
"Here are a few sentences," said he, "which I think may suit your
purpose. Great public services--undeniable merit--years of
integrity--cause of reform, and Macabaw for ever!" He put down the
paper. It was, in fact, a speech in favour of Mr. Macabaw.
"Hush," said Scully, rather surlily; for he was thinking how
disagreeable it was to support Macabaw; and besides, there were
clerks in the room, whom the thoughtless Perkins had not at first
perceived. As soon as that gentleman saw them, "You are busy, I
see," continued he in a lower tone. "I came to say that I must be
off duty to-day, for I am engaged to take a walk with some ladies of
my acquaintance."
So saying, the light-hearted young man placed his hat
unceremoniously on his head, and went off through his own door,
humming a song. He was in such high spirits that he did not even
think of closing the doors of communication, and Scully looked after
him with a sneer.
"Ladies, forsooth," thought he; "I know who they are. This precious
girl that he is fooling with, for one, I suppose." He was right:
Perkins was off on the wings of love, to see Miss Lucy; and she and
Aunt Biggs and Uncle Crampton had promised this very day to come and
look at the apartments which Mrs. John Perkins was to occupy with
her happy husband.
"Poor devil," so continued Mr. Scully's meditations, "it is almost
too bad to do him out of his place; but my Bob wants it, and John's
girl has, I hear, seven thousand pounds. His uncle will get him
another place before all that money is spent." And herewith Mr.
Scully began conning the speech which Perkins had made for him.
He had not read it more than six times,--in truth, he was getting it
by heart,--when his head clerk came to him from the front room,
bearing a card: a footman had brought it, who said his lady was
waiting below. Lady Gorgon's name was on the card! To seize his
hat and rush downstairs was, with Mr. Scully, the work of an
infinitesimal portion of time.
It was indeed Lady Gorgon in her Gorgonian chariot.
"Mr. Scully," said she, popping her head out of window and smiling
in a most engaging way, "I want to speak to you, on something very
particular INDEED"--and she held him out her hand. Scully pressed
it most tenderly: he hoped all heads in Bedford Row were at the
windows to see him. "I can't ask you into the carriage, for you see
the governess is with me, and I want to talk secrets to you."
"Shall I go and make a little promenade?" said mademoiselle,
innocently. And her mistress hated her for that speech.
"No. Mr. Scully, I am sure, will let me come in for five minutes?"
Mr. Scully was only too happy. My Lady descended and walked
upstairs, leaning on the happy solicitor's arm. But how should he
manage? The front room was consecrated to clerks; there were clerks
too, as ill-luck would have it, in his private room. "Perkins is
out for the day," thought Scully; "I will take her into his room."
And into Perkins's room he took her--ay, and he shut the double
doors after him too, and trembled as he thought of his own
happiness.
"What a charming little study," said Lady Gorgon, seating herself.
And indeed it was very pretty: for Perkins had furnished it
beautifully, and laid out a neat tray with cakes, a cold fowl, and
sherry, to entertain his party withal. "And do you bachelors always
live so well?" continued she, pointing to the little cold collation.
Mr. Scully looked rather blank when he saw it, and a dreadful
suspicion crossed his soul; but there was no need to trouble Lady
Gorgon with explanations: therefore, at once, and with much
presence of mind, he asked her to partake of his bachelor's fare
(she would refuse Mr. Scully nothing that day). A pretty sight
would it have been for young Perkins to see strangers so
unceremoniously devouring his feast. She drank--Mr. Scully
drank--and so emboldened was he by the draught that he actually
seated himself by the side of Lady Gorgon, on John Perkins's new
sofa.
Her Ladyship had of course something to say to him. She was a pious
woman, and had suddenly conceived a violent wish for building a
chapel of ease at Oldborough, to which she entreated him to
subscribe. She enlarged upon the benefits that the town would
derive from it, spoke of Sunday-schools, sweet spiritual
instruction, and the duty of all well-minded persons to give aid to
the scheme.
"I will subscribe a hundred pounds," said Scully, at the end of her
Ladyship's harangue: "would I not do anything for you?"
"Thank you, thank you, dear Mr. Scully," said the enthusiastic
woman. (How the "dear" went burning through his soul!) "Ah!"
added she, "if you WOULD but do anything for me--if you, who are so
eminently, so truly distinguished, in a religious point of view,
would but see the truth in politics too; and if I could see your
name among those of the true patriot party in this empire, how
blest--oh! how blest should I be! Poor Sir George often says he
should go to his grave happy, could he but see you the guardian of
his boy; and I, your old friend (for we WERE friends, William), how
have I wept to think of you as one of those who are bringing our
monarchy to ruin. Do, do promise me this too!" And she took his
hand and pressed it between hers.
The heart of William Pitt Scully, during this speech, was thumping
up and down with a frightful velocity and strength. His old love,
the agency of the Gorgon property--the dear widow--five thousand a
year clear--a thousand delicious hopes rushed madly through his
brain, and almost took away his reason. And there she sat--she, the
loved one, pressing his hand and looking softly into his eyes.
Down, down he plumped on his knees.
"Juliana!" shrieked he, "don't take away your hand! My love--my
only love!--speak but those blessed words again! Call me William
once more, and do with me what you will."
Juliana cast down her eyes and said, in the very smallest type,
"William!"
* * *
--when the door opened, and in walked Mr. Crampton, leading Mrs.
Biggs, who could hardly contain herself for laughing, and Mr. John
Perkins, who was squeezing the arm of Miss Lucy. They had heard
every word of the two last speeches.
For at the very moment when Lady Gorgon had stopped at Mr. Scully's
door, the four above-named individuals had issued from Great James
Street into Bedford Row.
Lucy cried out that it was her aunt's carriage, and they all saw Mr.
Scully come out, bare-headed, in the sunshine, and my Lady descend,
and the pair go into the house. They meanwhile entered by Mr.
Perkins's own private door, and had been occupied in examining the
delightful rooms on the ground-floor, which were to be his
dining-room and library--from which they ascended a stair to visit
the other two rooms, which were to form Mrs. John Perkins's drawing-
room and bedroom. Now whether it was that they trod softly, or that
the stairs were covered with a grand new carpet and drugget, as was
the case, or that the party within were too much occupied in
themselves to heed any outward disturbances, I know not; but Lucy,
who was advancing with John (he was saying something about one of
the apartments, the rogue!)--Lucy started and whispered, "There is
somebody in the rooms!" and at that instant began the speech already
reported, "THANK YOU, THANK YOU, DEAR MR. SCULLY," etc. etc., which
was delivered by Lady Gorgon in a full clear voice; for, to do her
Ladyship justice, SHE had not one single grain of love for Mr.
Scully, and during the delivery of her little oration, was as cool
as the coolest cucumber.
Then began the impassioned rejoinder, to which the four listened on
the landing-place; and then the little "William," as narrated above:
at which juncture Mr. Crampton thought proper to rattle at the door,
and, after a brief pause, to enter with his party.
"William" had had time to bounce off his knees, and was on a chair
at the other end of the room.
"What, Lady Gorgon!" said Mr. Crampton, with excellent surprise,
"how delighted I am to see you! Always, I see employed in works of
charity" (the chapel-of-ease paper was on her knees), "and on such
an occasion, too,--it is really the most wonderful coincidence! My
dear madam, here is a silly fellow, a nephew of mine, who is going
to marry a silly girl, a niece of your own."
"Sir, I--" began Lady Gorgon, rising.
"They heard every word," whispered Mr. Crampton eagerly. "Come
forward, Mr. Perkins, and show yourself." Mr. Perkins made a
genteel bow. "Miss Lucy, please to shake hands with your aunt; and
this, my dear madam, is Mrs. Biggs, of Mecklenburgh Square, who, if
she were not too old, might marry a gentleman in the Treasury, who
is your very humble servant." And with this gallant speech, old Mr.
Crampton began helping everybody to sherry and cake.
As for William Pitt Scully, he had disappeared, evaporated, in the
most absurd sneaking way imaginable. Lady Gorgon made good her
retreat presently, with much dignity, her countenance undismayed,
and her face turned resolutely to the foe.
* * *
About five days afterwards, that memorable contest took place in the
House of Commons, in which the partisans of Mr. Macabaw were so very
nearly getting him the Speakership. On the day that the report of
the debate appeared in the Times, there appeared also an
announcement in the Gazette as follows:--
"The King has been pleased to appoint John Perkins, Esquire, to be
Deputy-Subcomptroller of His Majesty's Tape Office and Custos of the
Sealing-Wax Department."