Chapter : 2.2
The next time Mr. Havisham met him, he saw that this last was quite true.
As his coupe turned the corner, he caught sight of a group of small boys, who were evidently much excited. Two of them were about to run a race, and one of them was his young lordship, and he was shouting and making as much noise as the noisiest of his companions. He stood side by side with another boy, one little red leg advanced a step. "One, to make ready!
yelled the starter. "Two, to be steady. Three—and away! Mr.
Havisham found himself leaning out of the window of his coupe with a curious feeling of interest. He really never remembered having seen anything quite like the way in which his lordship's lordly little red legs flew up behind his knickerbockers and tore over the ground as he shot out in the race at the signal word. He shut his small hands and set his face against the wind; his bright hair streamed out behind. "Hooray, Ced Errol!
all the boys shouted, dancing and shrieking with excitement. "Hooray, Billy Williams! Hooray, Ceddie! Hooray, Billy! Hooray! 'Ray! 'Ray! "I really believe he is going to win," said Mr. Havisham.
The way in which the red legs flew and flashed up and down, the shrieks of the boys, the wild efforts of Billy Williams, whose brown legs were not to be despised, as they followed closely in the rear of the red legs, made him feel some excitement. "I really—I really can't help hoping he will win!" he said, with an apologetic sort of cough. At that moment, the wildest yell of all went up from the dancing, hopping boys. With one last frantic leap the future Earl of Dorincourt had reached the lamp-post at the end of the block and touched it, just two seconds before Billy Williams flung himself at it, panting. "Three cheers for Ceddie Errol!
yelled the little boys. "Hooray for Ceddie Errol! Mr.
Havisham drew his head in at the window of his coupe and leaned back with a dry smile. "Bravo, Lord Fauntleroy!
he said. As his carriage stopped before the door of Mrs. Errol's house, the victor and the vanquished were coming toward it, attended by the clamoring crew.
Cedric walked by Billy Williams and was speaking to him. His elated little face was very red, his curls clung to his hot, moist forehead, his hands were in his pockets. "You see," he was saying, evidently with the intention of making defeat easy for his unsuccessful rival, "I guess I won because my legs are a little longer than yours.
I guess that was it. You see, I'm three days older than you, and that gives me a 'vantage. I'm three days older. And this view of the case seemed to cheer Billy Williams so much that he began to smile on the world again, and felt able to swagger a little, almost as if he had won the race instead of losing it.
Somehow, Ceddie Errol had a way of making people feel comfortable. Even in the first flush of his triumphs, he remembered that the person who was beaten might not feel so gay as he did, and might like to think that he MIGHT have been the winner under different circumstances. That morning Mr. Havisham had quite a long conversation with the winner of the race—a conversation which made him smile his dry smile, and rub his chin with his bony hand several times.
Mrs.
Errol had been called out of the parlor, and the lawyer and Cedric were left together. At first Mr. Havisham wondered what he should say to his small companion. He had an idea that perhaps it would be best to say several things which might prepare Cedric for meeting his grandfather, and, perhaps, for the great change that was to come to him. He could see that Cedric had not the least idea of the sort of thing he was to see when he reached England, or of the sort of home that waited for him there. He did not even know yet that his mother was not to live in the same house with him. They had thought it best to let him get over the first shock before telling him. Mr.
Havisham sat in an arm-chair on one side of the open window; on the other side was another still larger chair, and Cedric sat in that and looked at Mr. Havisham. He sat well back in the depths of his big seat, his curly head against the cushioned back, his legs crossed, and his hands thrust deep into his pockets, in a quite Mr. Hobbs-like way. He had been watching Mr. Havisham very steadily when his mamma had been in the room, and after she was gone he still looked at him in respectful thoughtfulness. There was a short silence after Mrs. Errol went out, and Cedric seemed to be studying Mr. Havisham, and Mr. Havisham was certainly studying Cedric. He could not make up his mind as to what an elderly gentleman should say to a little boy who won races, and wore short knickerbockers and red stockings on legs which were not long enough to hang over a big chair when he sat well back in it. But Cedric relieved him by suddenly beginning the conversation himself.
"Do you know," he said, "I don't know what an earl is?
"Don't you?
said Mr. Havisham.
"No," replied Ceddie.
"And I think when a boy is going to be one, he ought to know. Don't you?
"Well—yes," answered Mr. Havisham.
"Would you mind," said Ceddie respectfully—"would you mind 'splaining it to me?
(Sometimes when he used his long words he did not pronounce them quite correctly.) "What made him an earl? "A king or queen, in the first place," said Mr. Havisham.
"Generally, he is made an earl because he has done some service to his sovereign, or some great deed. "Oh!
said Cedric; "that's like the President. "Is it?
said Mr. Havisham.
"Is that why your presidents are elected? "Yes," answered Ceddie cheerfully.
"When a man is very good and knows a great deal, he is elected president. They have torch-light processions and bands, and everybody makes speeches. I used to think I might perhaps be a president, but I never thought of being an earl. I didn't know about earls," he said, rather hastily, lest Mr. Havisham might feel it impolite in him not to have wished to be one,—"if I'd known about them, I dare say I should have thought I should like to be one. "It is rather different from being a president," said Mr. Havisham.
"Is it?
asked Cedric. "How? Are there no torch-light processions? Mr.
Havisham crossed his own legs and put the tips of his fingers carefully together. He thought perhaps the time had come to explain matters rather more clearly. "An earl is—is a very important person," he began.
"So is a president!
put in Ceddie. "The torch-light processions are five miles long, and they shoot up rockets, and the band plays! Mr. Hobbs took me to see them. "An earl," Mr. Havisham went on, feeling rather uncertain of his ground, "is frequently of very ancient lineage——"
"What's that?
asked Ceddie. "Of very old family—extremely old.
"Ah!
said Cedric, thrusting his hands deeper into his pockets. "I suppose that is the way with the apple-woman near the park. I dare say she is of ancient lin-lenage. She is so old it would surprise you how she can stand up. She's a hundred, I should think, and yet she is out there when it rains, even. I'm sorry for her, and so are the other boys. Billy Williams once had nearly a dollar, and I asked him to buy five cents' worth of apples from her every day until he had spent it all. That made twenty days, and he grew tired of apples after a week; but then—it was quite fortunate—a gentleman gave me fifty cents and I bought apples from her instead. You feel sorry for any one that's so poor and has such ancient lin-lenage. She says hers has gone into her bones and the rain makes it worse. Mr.
Havisham felt rather at a loss as he looked at his companion's innocent, serious little face. "I am afraid you did not quite understand me," he explained.
"When I said 'ancient lineage' I did not mean old age; I meant that the name of such a family has been known in the world a long time; perhaps for hundreds of years persons bearing that name have been known and spoken of in the history of their country. "Like George Washington," said Ceddie.
"I've heard of him ever since I was born, and he was known about, long before that. Mr. Hobbs says he will never be forgotten. That's because of the Declaration of Independence, you know, and the Fourth of July. You see, he was a very brave man. "The first Earl of Dorincourt," said Mr. Havisham solemnly, "was created an earl four hundred years ago.
"Well, well!
said Ceddie.
"That was a long time ago! Did you tell Dearest that? It would int'rust her very much. We'll tell her when she comes in. She always likes to hear cur'us things. What else does an earl do besides being created? "A great many of them have helped to govern England.
Some of them have been brave men and have fought in great battles in the old days. "I should like to do that myself," said Cedric.
"My papa was a soldier, and he was a very brave man—as brave as George Washington. Perhaps that was because he would have been an earl if he hadn't died. I am glad earls are brave. That's a great 'vantage—to be a brave man. Once I used to be rather afraid of things—in the dark, you know; but when I thought about the soldiers in the Revolution and George Washington—it cured me. "There is another advantage in being an earl, sometimes," said Mr. Havisham slowly, and he fixed his shrewd eyes on the little boy with a rather curious expression.
"Some earls have a great deal of money. He was curious because he wondered if his young friend knew what the power of money was.
"That's a good thing to have," said Ceddie innocently.
"I wish I had a great deal of money. "Do you?
said Mr. Havisham.
"And why? "Well," explained Cedric, "there are so many things a person can do with money.
You see, there's the apple-woman. If I were very rich I should buy her a little tent to put her stall in, and a little stove, and then I should give her a dollar every morning it rained, so that she could afford to stay at home. And then—oh! I'd give her a shawl. And, you see, her bones wouldn't feel so badly. Her bones are not like our bones; they hurt her when she moves. It's very painful when your bones hurt you. If I were rich enough to do all those things for her, I guess her bones would be all right. "Ahem!
said Mr. Havisham.
"And what else would you do if you were rich? "Oh!
I'd do a great many things. Of course I should buy Dearest all sorts of beautiful things, needle-books and fans and gold thimbles and rings, and an encyclopedia, and a carriage, so that she needn't have to wait for the street-cars. If she liked pink silk dresses, I should buy her some, but she likes black best. But I'd, take her to the big stores, and tell her to look 'round and choose for herself. And then Dick——" "Who is Dick?
asked Mr. Havisham. "Dick is a boot-black," said his young; lordship, quite warming up in his interest in plans so exciting.
"He is one of the nicest boot-blacks you ever knew. He stands at the corner of a street down-town. I've known him for years. Once when I was very little, I was walking out with Dearest, and she bought me a beautiful ball that bounced, and I was carrying it and it bounced into the middle of the street where the carriages and horses were, and I was so disappointed, I began to cry—I was very little. I had kilts on. And Dick was blacking a man's shoes, and he said 'Hello!' and he ran in between the horses and caught the ball for me and wiped it off with his coat and gave it to me and said, 'It's all right, young un.' So Dearest admired him very much, and so did I, and ever since then, when we go down-town, we talk to him. He says 'Hello!' and I say 'Hello!' and then we talk a little, and he tells me how trade is. It's been bad lately. "And what would you like to do for him?
inquired the lawyer, rubbing his chin and smiling a queer smile. "Well," said Lord Fauntleroy, settling himself in his chair with a business air, "I'd buy Jake out.
"And who is Jake?
Mr. Havisham asked. "He's Dick's partner, and he is the worst partner a fellow could have!
Dick says so. He isn't a credit to the business, and he isn't square. He cheats, and that makes Dick mad. It would make you mad, you know, if you were blacking boots as hard as you could, and being square all the time, and your partner wasn't square at all. People like Dick, but they don't like Jake, and so sometimes they don't come twice. So if I were rich, I'd buy Jake out and get Dick a 'boss' sign—he says a 'boss' sign goes a long way; and I'd get him some new clothes and new brushes, and start him out fair. He says all he wants is to start out fair. There could have been nothing more confiding and innocent than the way in which his small lordship told his little story, quoting his friend Dick's bits of slang in the most candid good faith.
He seemed to feel not a shade of a doubt that his elderly companion would be just as interested as he was himself. And in truth Mr. Havisham was beginning to be greatly interested; but perhaps not quite so much in Dick and the apple-woman as in this kind little lordling, whose curly head was so busy, under its yellow thatch, with good-natured plans for his friends, and who seemed somehow to have forgotten himself altogether. "Is there anything——" he began.
"What would you get for yourself, if you were rich? "Lots of things!
answered Lord Fauntleroy briskly; "but first I'd give Mary some money for Bridget—that's her sister, with twelve children, and a husband out of work. She comes here and cries, and Dearest gives her things in a basket, and then she cries again, and says: 'Blessin's be on yez, for a beautiful lady.' And I think Mr. Hobbs would like a gold watch and chain to remember me by, and a meerschaum pipe. And then I'd like to get up a company. "A company!
exclaimed Mr. Havisham. "Like a Republican rally," explained Cedric, becoming quite excited.
"I'd have torches and uniforms and things for all the boys and myself, too. And we'd march, you know, and drill. That's what I should like for myself, if I were rich. The door opened and Mrs. Errol came in.
"I am sorry to have been obliged to leave you so long," she said to Mr. Havisham; "but a poor woman, who is in great trouble, came to see me.
"This young gentleman," said Mr. Havisham, "has been telling me about some of his friends, and what he would do for them if he were rich.
"Bridget is one of his friends," said Mrs. Errol; "and it is Bridget to whom I have been talking in the kitchen.
She is in great trouble now because her husband has rheumatic fever. Cedric slipped down out of his big chair.
"I think I'll go and see her," he said, "and ask her how he is.
He's a nice man when he is well. I'm obliged to him because he once made me a sword out of wood. He's a very talented man. He ran out of the room, and Mr. Havisham rose from his chair.
He seemed to have something in his mind which he wished to speak of. He hesitated a moment, and then said, looking down at Mrs. Errol:
"Before I left Dorincourt Castle, I had an interview with the Earl, in which he gave me some instructions.
He is desirous that his grandson should look forward with some pleasure to his future life in England, and also to his acquaintance with himself. He said that I must let his lordship know that the change in his life would bring him money and the pleasures children enjoy; if he expressed any wishes, I was to gratify them, and to tell him that his grand-father had given him what he wished. I am aware that the Earl did not expect anything quite like this; but if it would give Lord Fauntleroy pleasure to assist this poor woman, I should feel that the Earl would be displeased if he were not gratified. For the second time, he did not repeat the Earl's exact words.
His lordship had, indeed, said: "Make the lad understand that I can give him anything he wants.
Let him know what it is to be the grandson of the Earl of Dorincourt. Buy him everything he takes a fancy to; let him have money in his pockets, and tell him his grandfather put it there. His motives were far from being good, and if he had been dealing with a nature less affectionate and warm-hearted than little Lord Fauntleroy's, great harm might have been done.
And Cedric's mother was too gentle to suspect any harm. She thought that perhaps this meant that a lonely, unhappy old man, whose children were dead, wished to be kind to her little boy, and win his love and confidence. And it pleased her very much to think that Ceddie would be able to help Bridget. It made her happier to know that the very first result of the strange fortune which had befallen her little boy was that he could do kind things for those who needed kindness. Quite a warm color bloomed on her pretty young face. "Oh!
she said, "that was very kind of the Earl; Cedric will be so glad! He has always been fond of Bridget and Michael. They are quite deserving. I have often wished I had been able to help them more. Michael is a hard-working man when he is well, but he has been ill a long time and needs expensive medicines and warm clothing and nourishing food. He and Bridget will not be wasteful of what is given them. Mr.
Havisham put his thin hand in his breast pocket and drew forth a large pocket-book. There was a queer look in his keen face. The truth was, he was wondering what the Earl of Dorincourt would say when he was told what was the first wish of his grandson that had been granted. He wondered what the cross, worldly, selfish old nobleman would think of it. "I do not know that you have realized," he said, "that the Earl of Dorincourt is an exceedingly rich man.
He can afford to gratify any caprice. I think it would please him to know that Lord Fauntleroy had been indulged in any fancy. If you will call him back and allow me, I shall give him five pounds for these people. "That would be twenty-five dollars!
exclaimed Mrs. Errol. "It will seem like wealth to them. I can scarcely believe that it is true. "It is quite true," said Mr. Havisham, with his dry smile.
"A great change has taken place in your son's life, a great deal of power will lie in his hands. "Oh!
cried his mother. "And he is such a little boy—a very little boy. How can I teach him to use it well? It makes me half afraid. My pretty little Ceddie! The lawyer slightly cleared his throat.
It touched his worldly, hard old heart to see the tender, timid look in her brown eyes. "I think, madam," he said, "that if I may judge from my interview with Lord Fauntleroy this morning, the next Earl of Dorincourt will think for others as well as for his noble self.
He is only a child yet, but I think he may be trusted. Then his mother went for Cedric and brought him back into the parlor.
Mr. Havisham heard him talking before he entered the room. "It's infam-natory rheumatism," he was saying, "and that's a kind of rheumatism that's dreadful.
And he thinks about the rent not being paid, and Bridget says that makes the inf'ammation worse. And Pat could get a place in a store if he had some clothes. His little face looked quite anxious when he came in.
He was very sorry for Bridget. "Dearest said you wanted me," he said to Mr. Havisham.
"I've been talking to Bridget. Mr.
Havisham looked down at him a moment. He felt a little awkward and undecided. As Cedric's mother had said, he was a very little boy. "The Earl of Dorincourt——" he began, and then he glanced involuntarily at Mrs. Errol.
Little Lord Fauntleroy's mother suddenly kneeled down by him and put both her tender arms around his childish body.
"Ceddie," she said, "the Earl is your grandpapa, your own papa's father.
He is very, very kind, and he loves you and wishes you to love him, because the sons who were his little boys are dead. He wishes you to be happy and to make other people happy. He is very rich, and he wishes you to have everything you would like to have. He told Mr. Havisham so, and gave him a great deal of money for you. You can give some to Bridget now; enough to pay her rent and buy Michael everything. Isn't that fine, Ceddie? Isn't he good?" And she kissed the child on his round cheek, where the bright color suddenly flashed up in his excited amazement. He looked from his mother to Mr. Havisham.
"Can I have it now?
he cried. "Can I give it to her this minute? She's just going. Mr.
Havisham handed him the money. It was in fresh, clean greenbacks and made a neat roll. Ceddie flew out of the room with it.
"Bridget!
they heard him shout, as he tore into the kitchen. "Bridget, wait a minute! Here's some money. It's for you, and you can pay the rent. My grandpapa gave it to me. It's for you and Michael! "Oh, Master Ceddie!
cried Bridget, in an awe-stricken voice. "It's twinty-foive dollars is here. Where be's the misthress? "I think I shall have to go and explain it to her," Mrs. Errol said.
So she, too, went out of the room and Mr. Havisham was left alone for a while.
He went to the window and stood looking out into the street reflectively. He was thinking of the old Earl of Dorincourt, sitting in his great, splendid, gloomy library at the castle, gouty and lonely, surrounded by grandeur and luxury, but not really loved by any one, because in all his long life he had never really loved any one but himself; he had been selfish and self-indulgent and arrogant and passionate; he had cared so much for the Earl of Dorincourt and his pleasures that there had been no time for him to think of other people; all his wealth and power, all the benefits from his noble name and high rank, had seemed to him to be things only to be used to amuse and give pleasure to the Earl of Dorincourt; and now that he was an old man, all this excitement and self-indulgence had only brought him ill health and irritability and a dislike of the world, which certainly disliked him. In spite of all his splendor, there was never a more unpopular old nobleman than the Earl of Dorincourt, and there could scarcely have been a more lonely one. He could fill his castle with guests if he chose. He could give great dinners and splendid hunting parties; but he knew that in secret the people who would accept his invitations were afraid of his frowning old face and sarcastic, biting speeches. He had a cruel tongue and a bitter nature, and he took pleasure in sneering at people and making them feel uncomfortable, when he had the power to do so, because they were sensitive or proud or timid. Mr.
Havisham knew his hard, fierce ways by heart, and he was thinking of him as he looked out of the window into the narrow, quiet street. And there rose in his mind, in sharp contrast, the picture of the cheery, handsome little fellow sitting in the big chair and telling his story of his friends, Dick and the apple-woman, in his generous, innocent, honest way. And he thought of the immense income, the beautiful, majestic estates, the wealth, and power for good or evil, which in the course of time would lie in the small, chubby hands little Lord Fauntleroy thrust so deep into his pockets. "It will make a great difference," he said to himself.
"It will make a great difference. Cedric and his mother came back soon after.
Cedric was in high spirits. He sat down in his own chair, between his mother and the lawyer, and fell into one of his quaint attitudes, with his hands on his knees. He was glowing with enjoyment of Bridget's relief and rapture. "She cried!
he said. "She said she was crying for joy! I never saw any one cry for joy before. My grandpapa must be a very good man. I didn't know he was so good a man. It's more—more agreeabler to be an earl than I thought it was. I'm almost glad—I'm almost QUITE glad I'm going to be one.