“Squints!” exclaimed Mr. Fox, “now
what the devil can the hound want?”
“To pull your nose for sending him to market,”
my Lord suggested.
Fox laughed coolly.
“Lay you twenty he doesn’t, Jack,”
he said.
His Grace plainly had some business with us, and I
hoped he was coming to force the fighting. The
pieces had ceased to rattle on the round mahogany
table, and every head in the room seemed turned our
way, for the Covent Garden story was well known.
Chartersea laid his hand on the back of our fourth
chair, greeted us with some ceremony, and said something
which, under the circumstances, was almost unheard
of in that day: “If you stand in need of
one, gentlemen, I should deem it an honour.”
The situation had in it enough spice for all of us.
We welcomed him with alacrity. The cards were
cut, and it fell to his Grace to deal, which he did
very prettily, despite his heavy hands. He drew
Charles Fox, and they won steadily. The conversation
between deals was anywhere; on the virtue of Morello
cherries for the gout, to which his Grace was already
subject; on Mr. Fox’s Ariel, and why he had not
carried Sandwich’s cup at Newmarket; on the
advisability of putting three-year-olds on the track;
in short, on a dozen small topics of the kind.
At length, when Comyn and I had lost some fifty pounds
between us, Chartersea threw down the cards.
“My coach waits to-night, gentlemen,”
said he, with some sort of an accent that did not
escape us. “It would give me the greatest
pleasure and you will sup with me in Hanover Square.”
IN WHICH MY LORD BALTIMORE APPEARS
His Grace’s offer was accepted with a readiness
he could scarce have expected, and we all left the
room in the midst of a buzz of comment. We knew
well that the matter was not so haphazard as it appeared,
and on the way to Hanover Square Comyn more than once
stepped on my toe, and I answered the pressure.
Our coats and canes were taken by the duke’s
lackeys when we arrived. We were shown over the
house. Until now —so his Grace informed
us—it had not been changed since the time
of the fourth duke, who, as we doubtless knew, had
been an ardent supporter of the Hanoverian succession.
The rooms were high-panelled and furnished in the
German style, as was the fashion when the Square was
built. But some were stripped and littered with
scaffolding and plaster, new and costly marble mantels
were replacing the wood, and an Italian of some renown
was decorating the ceilings. His Grace appeared
to be at some pains that the significance of these
improvements should not be lost upon us; was constantly
appealing to Mr. Fox’s taste on this or that
feature. But those fishy eyes of his were so
alert that we had not even opportunity to wink.
It was wholly patent, in brief, that the Duke of Chartersea
meant to be married, and had brought Charles and Comyn
hither with a purpose. For me he would have put
himself out not an inch had he not understood that
my support came from those quarters.
