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The Struggles of Brown, Jones, and Robinson, a novel by Anthony Trollope |
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Chapter 7. Miss Brown Pleads Her Own Case, And Mr. Robinson Walks On Blackfriars Bridge |
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_ CHAPTER VII. MISS BROWN PLEADS HER OWN CASE, AND MR. ROBINSON WALKS ON BLACKFRIARS BRIDGE At the time of Mrs. McCockerell's death Robinson and Maryanne Brown were not on comfortable terms with each other. She had twitted him with being remiss in asserting his own rights in the presence of his rival, and he had accused her of being fickle, if not actually false. "I shall be just as fickle as I please," she said. "If it suits me I'll have nine to follow me; but there shan't be one of the nine who won't hold up his head and look after his own." "Your conduct, Maryanne--." "George, I won't be scolded, and that you ought to know. If you don't like me, you are quite welcome to do the other thing." And then they parted. This took place after Mr. Brown's adherence to the Robinson interest, and while Brisket was waiting passively to see if that five hundred pounds would be forthcoming. Their next meeting was in the presence of Mr. Brown; and on that occasion all the three spoke out their intentions on the subject of their future family arrangements, certainly with much plain language, if not on every side with positive truth. Mr. Robinson was at the house in Smithfield, giving counsel to old Mr. Brown as to the contest which was then being urged between him and his son-in-law. At that period the two sisters conceived that their joint pecuniary interests required that they should act together; and it must be acknowledged that they led poor Mr. Brown a sad life of it. He and Robinson were sitting upstairs in the little back room looking out into Spavinhorse Yard, when Maryanne abruptly broke in upon them. "Father," she said, standing upright in the middle of the room before them, "I have come to know what it is that you mean to do?" "To do, my dear?" said old Mr. Brown. "Yes; to do. I suppose something is to be done some day. We ain't always to go on shilly-shallying, spending the money, and ruining the business, and living from hand to mouth, as though there was no end to anything. I've got myself to look to, and I don't mean to go into the workhouse if I can help it!" "The workhouse, Maryanne!" "I said the workhouse, father, and I meant it. If everybody had what was justly their own, I shouldn't have to talk in that way. But as far as I can see, them sharks, the lawyers, will have it all. Now, I'll tell you what it is--" Hitherto Robinson had not said a word; but at this moment he thought it right to interfere. "Maryanne!" he said,--and, in pronouncing the well-loved name, he threw into it all the affection of which his voice was capable,--"Maryanne!" "'Miss Brown' would be a deal properer, and also much more pleasing, if it's all the same to you, sir!" How often had he whispered "Maryanne" into her ears, and the dear girl had smiled upon him to hear herself so called! But he could not remind her of this at the present moment. "I have your father's sanction," said he-- "My father is nothing to me,--not with reference to what young man I let myself be called 'Maryanne' by. And going on as he is going on, I don't suppose that he'll long be much to me in any way." "Oh, Maryanne!" sobbed the unhappy parent. "That's all very well, sir, but it won't keep the kettle a-boiling!" "As long as I have a bit to eat of, Maryanne, and a cup to drink of, you shall have the half." "And what am I to do when you won't have neither a bit nor a cup? That's what you're coming to, father. We can all see that. What's the use of all them lawyers?" "That's Jones's doing," said Robinson. "No; it isn't Jones's doing. And of course Jones must look after himself. I'm not partial to Jones. Everybody knows that. When Sarah Jane disgraced herself, and went off with him, I never said a word in her favour. It wasn't I who brought a viper into the house and warmed it in my bosom." It was at this moment that Jones was behaving with the most barefaced effrontery, as well as the utmost cruelty, towards the old man, and Maryanne's words cut her father to the very soul. "Jones might have been anywhere for me," she continued; "but there he is downstairs, and Sarah Jane is with him. Of course they are looking for their own." "And what is it you want, Maryanne?" "Well; I'll tell you what I want. My dear sainted mother's last wish was that--I should become Mrs. Brisket!" "And do you mean to say," said Robinson--"do you mean to say that that is now your wish?" And he looked at her till the audacity even of her eyes sank beneath the earnestness of his own. But though for the moment he quelled her eye, nothing could quell her voice. "I mean to say," said she, speaking loudly, and with her arms akimbo, "that William Brisket is a very respectable young man, with a trade,--that he's got a decent house for a young woman to live in, and a decent table for her to sit at. And he's always been brought up decent, having been a regular 'prentice to his uncle, and all that sort of thing. He's never been wandering about like a vagrant, getting his money nobody knows how. William Brisket's as well known in Aldersgate Street as the Post Office. And moreover," she added, after a pause, speaking these last words in a somewhat milder breath--"And moreover, it was my sainted mother's wish!" "Then go to him!" said Robinson, rising suddenly, and stretching out his arm against her. "Go to him, and perform your--sainted mother's wish! Go to the--butcher! Revel in his shambles, and grow fat and sleek in his slaughter-house! From this moment George Robinson will fight the world alone. Brisket, indeed! If it be accounted manliness to have killed hecatombs of oxen, let him be called manly!" "He would have pretty nigh killed you, young man, on one occasion, if you hadn't made yourself scarce." "By heavens!" exclaimed Robinson, "if he'll come forth, I'll fight him to-morrow;--with cleavers, if he will!" "George, George, don't say that," exclaimed Mr. Brown. "'Let dogs delight to bark and bite.'" "You needn't be afraid," said Maryanne. "He doesn't mean fighting," and she pointed to Robinson. "William would about eat him, you know, if they were to come together." "Heaven forbid!" said Mr. Brown. "But what I want to know is this," continued the maiden; "how is it to be about that five hundred pounds which my mother left me?" "But, my dear, your mother had not five hundred pounds to leave." "Nor did she make any will if she had," said Robinson. "Now don't put in your oar, for I won't have it," said the lady. "And you'd show a deal more correct feeling if you wasn't so much about the house just at present. My darling mamma,"--and then she put her handkerchief up to her eyes--"always told William that when he and I became one, there should be five hundred pounds down;--and of course he expects it. Now, sir, you often talk about your love for your children." "I do love them; so I do. What else have I?" "Now's the time to prove it. Let me have that sum of five hundred pounds, and I will always take your part against the Joneses. Five hundred pounds isn't so much,--and surely I have a right to some share. And you may be sure of this; when we're settled, Brisket is not the man to come back to you for more, as some would do." And then she gave another look at Robinson. "I haven't got the money; have I, George?" said the father. "That question I cannot answer," replied Robinson. "Nor can I say how far it might be prudent in you to debar yourself from all further progress in commerce if you have got it. But this I can say; do not let any consideration for me prevent you from giving a dowry with your daughter to Mr. Brisket; if she loves him--" "Oh, it's all bother about love," said she; "men and women must eat, and they must have something to give their children, when they come." "But if I haven't got it, my dear?" "That's nonsense, father. Where has the money gone to? Whatever you do, speak the truth. If you choose to say you won't--" "Well, then, I won't," said he, roused suddenly to anger. "I never made Brisket any promise!" "But mother did; she as is now gone, and far away; and it was her money,--so it was." "It wasn't her money;--it was mine!" said Mr. Brown. "And that's all the answer I'm to get? Very well. Then I shall know where to look for my rights. And as for that fellow there, I didn't think it of him, that he'd be so mean. I knew he was a coward always." "I am neither mean nor a coward," said Robinson, jumping up, and speaking with a voice that was audible right across Spavinhorse Yard, and into the tap of the "Man of Mischief" public-house opposite. "As for meanness, if I had the money, I would pour it out into your lap, though I knew that it was to be converted into beef and mutton for the benefit of a hated rival. And as for cowardice, I repel the charge, and drive it back into the teeth of him who, doubtless, made it. I am no coward." "You ran away when he bid you!" "Yes; because he is big and strong, and had I remained, he would have knocked me about, and made me ridiculous in the eyes of the spectators. But I am no coward. If you wish it, I am ready to fight him." "Oh, dear, no. It can be nothing to me." "He will make me one mash of gore," said Robinson, still holding out his hand. "But if you wish it, I care nothing for that. His brute strength will, of course, prevail; but I am indifferent as to that, if it would do you a pleasure." "Pleasure to me! Nothing of the kind, I can assure you." "Maryanne, if I might have my wish, it should be this. Let us both sit down, with our cigars lighted,--ay, and with tapers in our hands,--on an open barrel of gunpowder. Then let him who will sit there longest receive this fair hand as his prize." And as he finished, he leaned over her, and took up her hand in his. "Laws, Robinson!" she said; but she did not on the moment withdraw her hand. "And if you were both blew up, what'd I do then?" "I won't hear of such an arrangement," said Mr. Brown. "It would be very wicked. If there's another word spoke about it, I'll go to the police at once!" On that occasion Mr. Brown was quite determined about the money; and, as we heard afterwards, Mr. Brisket expressed himself as equally resolute. "Of course, I expect to see my way," said he; "I can't do anything of that sort without seeing my way." When that overture about the gunpowder was repeated to him, he is reported to have become very red. "Either with gloves or without, or with the sticks, I'm ready for him," said he; "but as for sitting on a barrel of gunpowder, it's a thing as nobody wouldn't do unless they was in Bedlam." When that interview was over, Robinson walked forth by himself into the evening air, along Giltspur Street, down the Old Bailey, and so on by Bridge Street, to the middle of Blackfriars Bridge; and as he walked, he strove manfully to get the better of the passion which was devouring the strength of his blood, and the marrow of his bones. "If she be not fair for me," he sang to himself, "what care I how fair she be?" But he did care; he could not master that passion. She had been vile to him, unfeminine, untrue, coarsely abusive; she had shown herself to be mercenary, incapable of true love, a scold, fickle, and cruel. But yet he loved her. There was a gallant feeling at his heart that no misfortune could conquer him,--but one; that misfortune had fallen upon him,--and he was conquered. "Why is it," he said as he looked down into the turbid stream--"why is it that bloodshed, physical strife, and brute power are dear to them all? Any fool can have personal bravery; 'tis but a sign of folly to know no fear. Grant that a man has no imagination, and he cannot fear; but when a man does fear, and yet is brave--" Then for awhile he stopped himself. "Would that I had gone at his throat like a dog!" he continued, still in his soliloquy. "Would that I had! Could I have torn out his tongue, and laid it as a trophy at her feet, then she would have loved me." After that he wandered slowly home, and went to bed. _ |
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