VIII
Lord Dorincourt had occasion to wear his grim smile many a time
as the days passed by. Indeed, as his acquaintance with his
grandson progressed, he wore the smile so often that there were
moments when it almost lost its grimness. There is no denying
that before Lord Fauntleroy had appeared on the scene, the old
man had been growing very tired of his loneliness and his gout
and his seventy years. After so long a life of excitement and
amusement, it was not agreeable to sit alone even in the most
splendid room, with one foot on a gout-stool, and with no other
diversion than flying into a rage, and shouting at a frightened
footman who hated the sight of him. The old Earl was too clever
a man not to know perfectly well that his servants detested him,
and that even if he had visitors, they did not come for love of
him--though some found a sort of amusement in his sharp,
sarcastic talk, which spared no one. So long as he had been
strong and well, he had gone from one place to another,
pretending to amuse himself, though he had not really enjoyed it;
and when his health began to fail, he felt tired of everything
and shut himself up at Dorincourt, with his gout and his
newspapers and his books. But he could not read all the time,
and he became more and more "bored," as he called it. He hated
the long nights and days, and he grew more and more savage and
irritable. And then Fauntleroy came; and when the Earl saw him,
fortunately for the little fellow, the secret pride of the
grandfather was gratified at the outset. If Cedric had been a
less handsome little fellow, the old man might have taken so
strong a dislike to him that he would not have given himself the
chance to see his grandson's finer qualities. But he chose to
think that Cedric's beauty and fearless spirit were the results
of the Dorincourt blood and a credit to the Dorincourt rank. And
then when he heard the lad talk, and saw what a well-bred little
fellow he was, notwithstanding his boyish ignorance of all that
his new position meant, the old Earl liked his grandson more, and
actually began to find himself rather entertained. It had amused
him to give into those childish hands the power to bestow a
benefit on poor Higgins. My lord cared nothing for poor Higgins,
but it pleased him a little to think that his grandson would be
talked about by the country people and would begin to be popular
with the tenantry, even in his childhood. Then it had gratified
him to drive to church with Cedric and to see the excitement and
interest caused by the arrival. He knew how the people would
speak of the beauty of the little lad; of his fine, strong,
straight body; of his erect bearing, his handsome face, and his
bright hair, and how they would say (as the Earl had heard one
woman exclaim to another) that the boy was "every inch a lord."
My lord of Dorincourt was an arrogant old man, proud of his name,
proud of his rank, and therefore proud to show the world that at
last the House of Dorincourt had an heir who was worthy of the
position he was to fill.
The morning the new pony had been tried, the Earl had been so
pleased that he had almost forgotten his gout. When the groom
had brought out the pretty creature, which arched its brown,
glossy neck and tossed its fine head in the sun, the Earl had sat
at the open window of the library and had looked on while
Fauntleroy took his first riding lesson. He wondered if the boy
would show signs of timidity. It was not a very small pony, and
he had often seen children lose courage in making their first
essay at riding.
Fauntleroy mounted in great delight. He had never been on a pony
before, and he was in the highest spirits. Wilkins, the groom,
led the animal by the bridle up and down before the library
window.
"He's a well plucked un, he is," Wilkins remarked in the stable
afterward with many grins. "It weren't no trouble to put HIM
up. An' a old un wouldn't ha' sat any straighter when he WERE
up. He ses--ses he to me, `Wilkins,' he ses, `am I sitting up
straight? They sit up straight at the circus,' ses he. An' I
ses, `As straight as a arrer, your lordship!'--an' he laughs, as
pleased as could be, an' he ses, `That's right,' he ses, `you
tell me if I don't sit up straight, Wilkins!'"
But sitting up straight and being led at a walk were not
altogether and completely satisfactory. After a few minutes,
Fauntleroy spoke to his grandfather--watching him from the
window:
"Can't I go by myself?" he asked; "and can't I go faster? The
boy on Fifth Avenue used to trot and canter!"
"Do you think you could trot and canter?" said the Earl.
"I should like to try," answered Fauntleroy.
His lordship made a sign to Wilkins, who at the signal brought up
his own horse and mounted it and took Fauntleroy's pony by the
leading-rein.
"Now," said the Earl, "let him trot."
The next few minutes were rather exciting to the small
equestrian. He found that trotting was not so easy as walking,
and the faster the pony trotted, the less easy it was.
"It j-jolts a g-goo-good deal--do-doesn't it?" he said to
Wilkins. "D-does it j-jolt y-you?"
"No, my lord," answered Wilkins. "You'll get used to it in
time. Rise in your stirrups."
"I'm ri-rising all the t-time," said Fauntleroy.
He was both rising and falling rather uncomfortably and with many
shakes and bounces. He was out of breath and his face grew red,
but he held on with all his might, and sat as straight as he
could. The Earl could see that from his window. When the riders
came back within speaking distance, after they had been hidden by
the trees a few minutes, Fauntleroy's hat was off, his cheeks
were like poppies, and his lips were set, but he was still
trotting manfully.
"Stop a minute!" said his grandfather. "Where's your hat?"
Wilkins touched his. "It fell off, your lordship," he said,
with evident enjoyment. "Wouldn't let me stop to pick it up, my
lord."
"Not much afraid, is he?" asked the Earl dryly.
"Him, your lordship!" exclaimed Wilkins. "I shouldn't say as
he knowed what it meant. I've taught young gen'lemen to ride
afore, an' I never see one stick on more determinder."
"Tired?" said the Earl to Fauntleroy. "Want to get off?"
"It jolts you more than you think it will," admitted his young
lordship frankly. "And it tires you a little, too; but I don't
want to get off. I want to learn how. As soon as I've got my
breath I want to go back for the hat."
The cleverest person in the world, if he had undertaken to teach
Fauntleroy how to please the old man who watched him, could not
have taught him anything which would have succeeded better. As
the pony trotted off again toward the avenue, a faint color crept
up in the fierce old face, and the eyes, under the shaggy brows,
gleamed with a pleasure such as his lordship had scarcely
expected to know again. And he sat and watched quite eagerly
until the sound of the horses' hoofs returned. When they did
come, which was after some time, they came at a faster pace.
Fauntleroy's hat was still off; Wilkins was carrying it for him;
his cheeks were redder than before, and his hair was flying about
his ears, but he came at quite a brisk canter.
"There!" he panted, as they drew up, "I c-cantered. I didn't
do it as well as the boy on Fifth Avenue, but I did it, and I
staid on!"
He and Wilkins and the pony were close friends after that.
Scarcely a day passed in which the country people did not see
them out together, cantering gayly on the highroad or through the
green lanes. The children in the cottages would run to the door
to look at the proud little brown pony with the gallant little
figure sitting so straight in the saddle, and the young lord
would snatch off his cap and swing it at them, and shout,
"Hullo! Good-morning!" in a very unlordly manner, though with
great heartiness. Sometimes he would stop and talk with the
children, and once Wilkins came back to the castle with a story
of how Fauntleroy had insisted on dismounting near the village
school, so that a boy who was lame and tired might ride home on
his pony.
"An' I'm blessed," said Wilkins, in telling the story at the
stables,--"I'm blessed if he'd hear of anything else! He would
n't let me get down, because he said the boy mightn't feel
comfortable on a big horse. An' ses he, `Wilkins,' ses he, `that
boy's lame and I'm not, and I want to talk to him, too.' And up
the lad has to get, and my lord trudges alongside of him with his
hands in his pockets, and his cap on the back of his head,
a-whistling and talking as easy as you please! And when we come
to the cottage, an' the boy's mother come out all in a taking to
see what's up, he whips off his cap an' ses he, `I've brought
your son home, ma'am,' ses he, `because his leg hurt him, and I
don't think that stick is enough for him to lean on; and I'm
going to ask my grandfather to have a pair of crutches made for
him.' An' I'm blessed if the woman wasn't struck all of a heap,
as well she might be! I thought I should 'a' hex-plodid,
myself!"
When the Earl heard the story he was not angry, as Wilkins had
been half afraid that he would be; on the contrary, he laughed
outright, and called Fauntleroy up to him, and made him tell all
about the matter from beginning to end, and then he laughed
again. And actually, a few days later, the Dorincourt carriage
stopped in the green lane before the cottage where the lame boy
lived, and Fauntleroy jumped out and walked up to the door,
carrying a pair of strong, light, new crutches shouldered like a
gun, and presented them to Mrs. Hartle (the lame boy's name was
Hartle) with these words: "My grandfather's compliments, and if
you please, these are for your boy, and we hope he will get
better."
"I said your compliments," he explained to the Earl when he
returned to the carriage. "You didn't tell me to, but I thought
perhaps you forgot. That was right, wasn't it?"
And the Earl laughed again, and did not say it was not. In fact,
the two were becoming more intimate every day, and every day
Fauntleroy's faith in his lordship's benevolence and virtue
increased. He had no doubt whatever that his grandfather was the
most amiable and generous of elderly gentlemen. Certainly, he
himself found his wishes gratified almost before they were
uttered; and such gifts and pleasures were lavished upon him,
that he was sometimes almost bewildered by his own possessions.
Apparently, he was to have everything he wanted, and to do
everything he wished to do. And though this would certainly not
have been a very wise plan to pursue with all small boys, his
young lordship bore it amazingly well. Perhaps, notwithstanding
his sweet nature, he might have been somewhat spoiled by it, if
it had not been for the hours he spent with his mother at Court
Lodge. That "best friend" of his watched over him over closely
and tenderly. The two had many long talks together, and he never
went back to the Castle with her kisses on his cheeks without
carrying in his heart some simple, pure words worth remembering.
There was one thing, it is true, which puzzled the little fellow
very much. He thought over the mystery of it much oftener than
any one supposed; even his mother did not know how often he
pondered on it; the Earl for a long time never suspected that he
did so at all. But, being quick to observe, the little boy could
not help wondering why it was that his mother and grandfather
never seemed to meet. He had noticed that they never did meet.
When the Dorincourt carriage stopped at Court Lodge, the Earl
never alighted, and on the rare occasions of his lordship's going
to church, Fauntleroy was always left to speak to his mother in
the porch alone, or perhaps to go home with her. And yet, every
day, fruit and flowers were sent to Court Lodge from the
hot-houses at the Castle. But the one virtuous action of the
Earl's which had set him upon the pinnacle of perfection in
Cedric's eyes, was what he had done soon after that first Sunday
when Mrs. Errol had walked home from church unattended. About a
week later, when Cedric was going one day to visit his mother, he
found at the door, instead of the large carriage and prancing
pair, a pretty little brougham and a handsome bay horse.
"That is a present from you to your mother," the Earl said
abruptly. "She can not go walking about the country. She needs
a carriage. The man who drives will take charge of it. It is a
present from YOU."
Fauntleroy's delight could but feebly express itself. He could
scarcely contain himself until he reached the lodge. His mother
was gathering roses in the garden. He flung himself out of the
little brougham and flew to her.
"Dearest!" he cried, "could you believe it? This is yours!
He says it is a present from me. It is your own carriage to
drive everywhere in!"
He was so happy that she did not know what to say. She could not
have borne to spoil his pleasure by refusing to accept the gift
even though it came from the man who chose to consider himself
her enemy. She was obliged to step into the carriage, roses and
all, and let herself be taken to drive, while Fauntleroy told her
stories of his grandfather's goodness and amiability. They were
such innocent stories that sometimes she could not help laughing
a little, and then she would draw her little boy closer to her
side and kiss him, feeling glad that he could see only good in
the old man, who had so few friends.
The very next day after that, Fauntleroy wrote to Mr. Hobbs. He
wrote quite a long letter, and after the first copy was written,
he brought it to his grandfather to be inspected.
"Because," he said, "it's so uncertain about the spelling.
And if you'll tell me the mistakes, I'll write it out again."
This was what he had written:
"My dear mr hobbs i want to tell you about my granfarther he is
the best earl you ever new it is a mistake about earls being
tirents he is not a tirent at all i wish you new him you would be
good friends i am sure you would he has the gout in his foot and
is a grate sufrer but he is so pashent i love him more every day
becaus no one could help loving an earl like that who is kind to
every one in this world i wish you could talk to him he knows
everything in the world you can ask him any question but he has
never plaid base ball he has given me a pony and a cart and my
mamma a bewtifle cariage and I have three rooms and toys of all
kinds it would serprise you you would like the castle and the
park it is such a large castle you could lose yourself wilkins
tells me wilkins is my groom he says there is a dungon under the
castle it is so pretty everything in the park would serprise you
there are such big trees and there are deers and rabbits and
games flying about in the cover my granfarther is very rich but
he is not proud and orty as you thought earls always were i like
to be with him the people are so polite and kind they take of
their hats to you and the women make curtsies and sometimes say
god bless you i can ride now but at first it shook me when i
troted my granfarther let a poor man stay on his farm when he
could not pay his rent and mrs mellon went to take wine and
things to his sick children i should like to see you and i wish
dearest could live at the castle but i am very happy when i dont
miss her too much and i love my granfarther every one does plees
write soon
"your afechshnet old frend
"Cedric Errol
"p s no one is in the dungon my granfarfher never had any one
langwishin in there.
"p s he is such a good earl he reminds me of you he is a
unerversle favrit"
"Do you miss your mother very much?" asked the Earl when he had
finished reading this.
"Yes," said Fauntleroy, "I miss her all the time."
He went and stood before the Earl and put his hand on his knee,
looking up at him.
"YOU don't miss her, do you?" he said.
"I don't know her," answered his lordship rather crustily.
"I know that," said Fauntleroy, "and that's what makes me
wonder. She told me not to ask you any questions, and--and I
won't, but sometimes I can't help thinking, you know, and it
makes me all puzzled. But I'm not going to ask any questions.
And when I miss her very much, I go and look out of my window to
where I see her light shine for me every night through an open
place in the trees. It is a long way off, but she puts it in her
window as soon as it is dark, and I can see it twinkle far away,
and I know what it says."
"What does it say?" asked my lord.
"It says, `Good-night, God keep you all the night!'--just what
she used to say when we were together. Every night she used to
say that to me, and every morning she said, `God bless you all
the day!' So you see I am quite safe all the time----"
"Quite, I have no doubt," said his lordship dryly. And he drew
down his beetling eyebrows and looked at the little boy so
fixedly and so long that Fauntleroy wondered what he could be
thinking of.
