may call ’self a wealthy man?”
“No rule without an exception, my dear boy; you are one of the exceptions. Odd, though, isn’t it, how we have all been thrown together after four years?”
“Yes, ’tis odd; but think it’s dooced nice of Dick to look us up as he has. You’ll make one of the party, of course?”
“Well, I don’t know. Certainly, town is empty. These sailor fellows are rather rough, though.”
“Oh, come down. Besides, it’s in the country.”
“Such an infernal distance! – but there, perhaps I will.”
As they stood talking, there came slowly sauntering along the pave a well-built young fellow, broad of shoulder and chest, and fining rapidly down to the loins. He seemed to convey the idea that he was rolling up to you on the deck of a ship with a sea on, and he carried his hands as if it might be necessary at any moment to throw them out to seize belaying pin or handrail. He was well dressed; but there was a certain easy freedom in the fit of his garments, and a loose swing pervading all, much in contrast with the natty, fashionable attire of the friends, whom he saluted with a pleasant smile lighting up his bronzed face and clear grey eyes. His hair was crisp, curly, and brown, seeming rather at war with the glossy new hat he wore, and settled more than once upon his head as he listened to the remarks of the little dapper-looking man at his side – Podger, otherwise Frank, Pratt, of the Temple.
Pratt was a solemn, neutral-looking fellow; but none the less he was keen and peculiar, even though, to use his own words, he had been born without any looks at all.
“There’s the wolf, Dick,” said Pratt, as they approached the club. “Who’s that with him? Ah, might have known – the lamb.”
“You seem to have kept up the old school tricks, Frank,” said Trevor, “and I suppose it gets you into hot water sometimes. Bad habit giving nicknames. We shouldn’t stand it at sea.”
“It breaks no bones,” said the other, quietly, “and seems to do me good – safety-valve for my spleen. How odd it is, though, that we four should be thrown together again in this way!”
“I was thinking the same; but I don’t see why we should call things odd when we have shaped them ourselves. I was cruising about for days to find you all out.”
“Well, it’s very kind of you, Dick,” said Pratt. “And let me see – I’ve won four pounds ten and six of you during the last week at pool and whist. Dick, you’re quite a godsend to a poor fellow. Look here, new gloves – ain’t had such a pair for a month.”
“By the way,” said Trevor, “is Vanleigh well off?”
“He was,” said Pratt – “came in for a nice property. How he stands now I can’t say.”
“And Landells?”
“Landells has a clear nine thousand a year; but I’ve seen hardly anything of them lately. Poole dresses them; and how could you expect such exquisites to seek the society of a man who wears sixteen-shilling pantaloons, dines on chops, reads hard, and, when he does go to a theatre, sits in the pit? By Jove, Dick, you would have laughed one night! I did – inside, for there wasn’t a crease in my phiz. They cut me dead. I was sitting in the front row in the pit, and as luck or some mischievous imp would have it, they were placed in two stalls in the back row, exactly in front of me, so that I could inhale the ambrosial odours from Flick Landells’ fair curls the whole evening.”
“Snobbish – wasn’t it?” said Dick.
“Just half,” said Pratt. “Landells is a good chap at heart; but society is spoiling him. He came to my chambers the very next day, with a face like a turkey-cock, to ask me if it was I that he saw at the theatre. I looked at him out of the corner of one eye, and he broke down, and asked my pardon like a man. Swore he wouldn’t have minded a bit, if Van hadn’t been with him. It’s all right, Dick; I can read Felix the Unhappy like a book.”
“Well, gentlemen,” said Trevor, as they reached the steps, “it is settled for Wednesday, of course?”
“Well,” said Landells, hesitating, “I – er – I – er – ”
“Oh, you must come, Flick,” said Trevor; “we’ve got all our old days to go over, and I’ve ordered the yacht round. Vanleigh, help me to persuade him.”
“You might come,” said Vanleigh, in a half-injured tone.
“Oh, I’ll go if you are going,” said Sir Felix, hastily; and then, correcting himself – “if you both really wish it.”
“That’s right,” said Trevor; “take pity on my seafaring ignorance. I shall want some company down at the old place. Pratt has promised.”
“Indeed!” said Vanleigh, fixing his glass in one eye. “I thought last night he couldn’t leave his reading?”
“Obliged to yield, like you, to the force of circumstances,” said Pratt, “and give way to our old friend’s overwhelming hospitality. But you needn’t mind, Van, old fellow, I won’t disgrace you. Look here,” he said, taking off his hat and speaking loudly, “new tile, fourteen bob – couldn’t afford a Lincoln and Bennett; brand-new gloves, two-and-three; and I’ve ordered one of Samuel Brothers’ tourist suits for the occasion.”
“My dear fellow,” said the Captain, after a look of disgust at Sir Felix, “I really do not want to know the extent of your wardrobe. In fact, mine is at your service – my valet – er – I beg your pardon, Trevor.”
“I say, don’t take any notice of that solemn little humbug,” said Trevor, laughing; “you know what he always was. I – oh, my God!”
The exclamation was involuntary, for just at that moment a hansom cab was driven sharply out of the turning leading to Saint James’s Square, the horse shied – Pratt afterwards swore it was at Vanleigh’s eyes – and in another instant would have stricken down a faded-looking woman, who seemed to be crossing towards the club steps, but for the act of a passer-by.
The act was as quick as thought. With a bound he caught the woman, swung her round, and was struck by the horse full on the shoulder, to reel for a few yards with his burden, and then roll over and over in the muddy road.
The cabman pulled sharp up, and leapt off his perch with a face white as ashes, in an instant, while Trevor and Pratt ran to the fallen pair – the former to raise the woman, and carry her scared and trembling to the club steps, where Vanleigh stood looking as scared as the sufferer, while Pratt helped the gentleman to rise.
“Take me away, please; let me go – away,” said the woman, shivering with fear.
“Are you hurt?” said Trevor, with his arm still round her.
“No, no; not hurt – only let me go.”
“I couldn’t help it, gen’lemen,” began the cabman.
“No, confound you! – it was an accident, worse luck!” said the principal sufferer, “or you should have caught it sharply, Mr Nine-hundred-and-seventy-six. Here’s a pretty mess I’m in!”
“Very sorry, sir,” said the cabman, – “but – ”
“There, that’ll do. Is the lady hurt?”
“No,
