Chapter 5

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_ CHAPTER FIVE.

In due time Tom locked up the safe and strong-room, saw that no important papers were left about, and started for Mornington Crescent in anything but the best of spirits, for he did not look forward with any feeling of pleasure to his next meeting with his cousin. Upon reaching home he found from divers signs that company was expected to dinner; for the cloth was laid for five, the best glass was on the table, there were flowers and fruit, and sundry fumes from the kitchen ascended into the hall, suggesting extra preparations there as well.

Tom had hardly reached this point when his cousin came out of the library scowling.

"Here, bumpkin," he cried, "you're to look sharp and put on your best things. It's not my doing, I can tell you, but the pater says you're to come in to dinner."

"Who's coming?" said Tom.

"What's that to you? Pretty cheeky that. I suppose you ought to have been asked whether we might have company."

"Oh, no," said Tom, good-temperedly; "I only wanted to know."

"Did you? Well, you won't know till dinnertime. Now then, don't stand staring there, but go and wash that dirty face, and see if you can't come down with your hands and nails fit to be seen."

"Clean as ever yours are," was on Tom's lips; but he remembered his cousin's trouble of that morning, pitied him, and felt that he had some excuse for feeling irritable and strange.

"Well, go on; look sharp," said Sam, manoeuvring so as to get behind his cousin.

"All right; I'm going," replied Tom, who was suspicious of something coming after his cousin's promise of revenge; and he wanted to remain facing any danger that might be threatening. But he felt that he could not back away, it would look so cowardly, and, daring all, he went slowly to the pegs to hang up his overcoat.

"Get on, will you," cried Sam; "don't be all night. We don't want to wait for you."

"Oh, I shan't be long," said Tom quietly; "I'll soon be down."

He was on the mat at the foot of the stairs as he said this, conscious the while that Sam was close behind; and he was in the act of stepping up, when he received so savage a kick that he fell forwards on to the stairs, striking his nose violently, and creating a sensation as if that member had suddenly been struck off.

"You got it that time, did you?" said Sam, with a satisfied chuckle. "You generally play the wriggling eel, but I was too quick for you, my lad."

Sam said no more, for his triumph was only short-lived. He was looking triumphantly at his cousin as the lad got up heavily, feeling his nose to find out whether it was there. The next instant Sam was feeling his own, for he had at last gone too far. Tom had borne till he could bear no more; and in the anguish of that kick he had forgotten company, dressing for dinner, everything but the fact that Sam was there, and quick as lightning he struck him full in the face.

This satisfied him--acting like a discharging rod for his electric rage?

Nothing of the kind: there was a supreme feeling of pleasure in striking that blow. It, was the outlet of any amount of dammed-up suffering; and seeing nothing now but his cousin's malignant face, Tom followed up that first blow with a second, till, throwing his remaining strength into a blow intended for the last, it took effect, and Sam went over backwards, flung out his right hand to save himself, and caught and brought down a great blue china jar, which shivered to pieces on the floor, covering Sam with fragments, and giving him the aspect of having been terribly cut, for his nose was bleeding freely.

So was Tom's, as he caught a glimpse of himself in the glass of the hall table, while his lip had received a nasty cut, and in the struggle the stains had been pretty well distributed over his face.

But he had no time to think of that, for the crash had alarmed those up-stairs as well as down, and hurrying steps were heard.

The first to arrive was the cook, who, on reaching the head of the kitchen stairs, uttered a kind of choking gasp as she saw Sam lying apparently insensible among the ruins of the china jar.

"Oh, Master Tom, what have you been and done?" she cried.

"Been and done?" came like an angry echo from the landing above, where Mr Brandon had arrived. But before he could say more there was a piercing shriek, he was pushed aside, and Mrs Brandon rushed down the remaining stairs crying wildly--

"Oh, my darling boy! my darling boy! He has killed him--he has killed him!"

She dropped upon her knees by where Sam lay, apparently insensible; but uttered a cry of pain and sprang up again, for the broken china was full of awkward corners.

"Oh, James! James! look what that wicked wretch has done!"

"Look, woman! Do you think I'm blind? That vase was worth fifty pounds, if it was worth a penny."

"I--I wasn't thinking about the ch-ch-ch-china," sobbed Mrs Brandon, "but about my darling Sam. Oh, my boy! my boy! don't say you're dead!"

"Don't you make an exhibition of yourself before the servants," cried her husband angrily. "Here you, sir: I always knew that you'd make me repent. How came you to break that vase?"

"I didn't, sir," said Tom quietly; "Sam caught hold of it as he was falling."

Sam was lying insensible the moment before, but this was reviving.

"I didn't, father; he knocked me down, and then seized the vase and dashed it at me."

"Yes, yes," cried Mrs Brandon, as Sam lapsed into insensibility once more. "The wretch has had a spite against his cousin ever since he has been here. Oh, my darling, darling boy!"

Sam uttered a low groan which made his mother shriek and fling herself down by him again.

"Oh, Mary! cook!" she cried, "help--help!"

"Yes, mum," said the former; "shall I bring a dustpan and brush, and take up the bits?"

"No, no! Water--sponge--help!"

"Indeed, indeed, I did not break the vase," pleaded Tom, as his uncle suddenly caught him by the collar and drew a gold-headed malacca cane from the umbrella-stand.

"I'll soon see about that," said Mr Brandon, with a fierce drawing-in of the breath.

"Yes; beat him, beat him well, James, the wretch, the cruel wretch, and then turn him out of the house."

"Don't you interfere," cried Mr Brandon, with a snap. Then to Tom--"I suppose you'll say you were not fighting?"

"Yes, sir, I was fighting; but Sam began at me, and all because I wouldn't screen him to-day."

"Hah! never mind that," said Mr Brandon.

"Don't beat me, sir," pleaded Tom, excitedly. "I can't bear it."

"You'll have to bear it, my fine fellow. Here, come into the library."

"Yes, James, beat the wretch well," cried Mrs Brandon. "Oh, my darling, does it hurt you very much?"

"Oh!" groaned Sam, and his mother shrieked; while a struggle was going on between Tom and his uncle, the boy resisting with all his might.

"He has killed him! he has killed him!" sobbed Mrs Brandon; "and you stand there, cook, doing nothing."

"Well, mum, what can I do? I'm wanted down-stairs. Them soles is a-burning in the frying-pan. You can smell 'em up here."

"Yes; nice preparations for company," said Mr Brandon, stopping to pant, for Tom had seized the plinth at the foot of the balustrade and held on with all his might. "Go down in the kitchen, cook, and see to the dinner."

The cook turned to go, but stopped short and turned back.

"Oh, my darling! my darling!" cried Mrs Brandon.

"Oh-h-h-h!" groaned Sam.

"I beg your pardon, sir," said cook, speaking very loudly, "but please you ain't going to whip Mr Tom, are you?"

"Silence, woman! Go down to your kitchen!" roared her master.

"Yes, sir--directly, sir; but Mr Sam's allus at him, and he begun it to-night, for I heared him."

"Will you go down and mind your own business, woman?"

"Yes, sir; but I can't bear to see you lay your hand on that poor boy, as ain't done nothing to deserve it, and I will speak out, so there."

"Silence, woman!"

"No, sir, nor I won't silence neither; and don't you please call me woman, because I won't take it from nobody, not for no wages. I behaves respectful to you and missus, and expect the same, so there."

"Cook, you leave at a month's end," cried Mrs Brandon. "Oh, Sam, Sam, speak to your broken-hearted mother."

"Cert'ny, mum, and very glad to go," said cook, who was working herself up into a passion. "To-night if you like. No, I won't; I'll go now, as soon as I've packed my boxes; and if Mary's the girl I take her for, she'll go too, and not stand here sweeping up your nasty old china."

"Am I to take you by the shoulders, woman, and bundle you down-stairs?" roared Mr Brandon.

"No, sir, you ain't. Just you dare to touch me, that's all; and what's more, you ain't a-going to beat Master Tom, so there now. I wouldn't stand here and see him punished for what he don't deserve. It's all that Mr Sam, who's ma's spoilt him, and indulged him, till he's grown into a nasty, overbearing, cigarette-smoking wretch, as treats servants as if they was the dirt under his feet."

"Fanny," cried the lawyer, who felt that he was losing dignity in an unequal struggle, "send this woman down-stairs. Now, sir, you let go of that balustrade and come here."

"No," cried Tom, between his teeth; "you shan't beat me for nothing. It was all Sam."

"Come here!" roared his uncle, making a savage drag at the boy, which was intercepted by cook forcing herself between, and trying to shelter him.

"You shan't beat him, not while I'm here," she cried.

"He is not going to beat him," said a quiet, firm, grave voice; and all started to see that "the company," who had been standing quite unobserved on the upper landing, a silent spectator of the scene, was now coming down.

"Oh, Richard!" cried Mrs Brandon; "look here! The wretch--the wretch!"

"Yes, he does look a pretty object certainly," said the visitor. "Here you, sir, get up and go to your room, and wash yourself. Don't lie groaning there."

"Oh--oh--oh!" cried Mrs Brandon, hysterically, "I didn't mean Sam."

"If you'd go and stop in the drawing-room, Richard, and not interfere, I should feel obliged."

"Nothing would have pleased me better, James," said his brother coldly; "but the riot was getting too loud--I was obliged to come."

"Then, now go and wait. The dinner will be ready soon."

"That it just won't," cried cook viciously; "and if you're a gentleman, though you are master's own brother, you'll come and help me."

"There is no need," said Uncle Richard, in his quiet way. "Mr Brandon is not going to beat his nephew. He was very angry, no doubt, but that's all over now; and as to the dinner, my dear madam, while I act the peacemaker, I hope you will bear in mind that I am very hungry, and should be very glad of some of the good things you were preparing, when in your genuine, womanly way you felt yourself called upon to defend this boy."

"Look here, Richard," began Mr Brandon.

"Tut--tut--tut, man, be quiet. Tom, my lad, go up-stairs to your room and make yourself decent. Fanny, my good girl, you are spoiling an expensive dress put on in my honour. Mary, my child, there are two or three sharp pieces of the broken vase here. Would you mind? Thank you. These things are very sharp. Now you, Sam, jump up, and go and wash yourself. Do you hear?"

"Confound it all, Richard!" began Mr Brandon.

"Tut--tut, quiet, man!" said Uncle Richard; "there's nothing the matter with the fellow."

"He's half killed--dangerously hurt," protested Mrs Brandon.

"Not he, my dear Fanny. I saw him watching the proceedings with one eye open. Come, Sam, no nonsense. Get up, and go to your room; and don't you dare to interfere with Tom, because if you do I shall come up myself. Let me see; I think I have a bit of a hold on you, have I not?"

Sam's eyes both opened widely, and he rose to his feet, then directed an imploring look at his uncle, who drew back, pointed up the stairs, and the lad shivered slightly as he went slowly by him, and began to ascend.

"Hang it all, Richard, is this house mine or is it yours?" said James Brandon.

"Mine," said his brother--"while I am your guest, of course. Thank you, Jem, I'll take my cane, if you please. It is a favourite old malacca--a presentation."

He took the cane quietly from his brother's hand and replaced it in the stand, with the result that cook uttered a titter and hurried down-stairs, followed by Mary, bearing a dustpan full of broken sherds.

"Come, that's better," said Uncle Richard, disregarding his brother's angry gesture. "Now, my dear Fanny, let me take you to the drawing-room. The storm's over, and the sun is coming out. Don't let's spoil my visit because the boys fell out and broke a vase."

"No, no, Richard," said Mrs Brandon, half hysterically, as she yielded at once and took her brother-in-law's arm. "But you don't know. That boy has the temper of a demon."

"What, Sam?"

"No, _no_, No! That boy Thomas. We haven't had a day's peace since he came into the house. And now a fifty-pound vase broken. Oh! the wicked boy."

"I didn't do it, aunt. It was Sam," came from the head of the staircase.

"Ah! Silence there, sir!" shouted Uncle Richard. "How dare you stand there listening! Be off, and make yourself decent for dinner."

"Richard!" cried Mrs Brandon, in a tone of remonstrance, "you surely would not have that boy down to dinner now!"

"Why not, my dear sister?" he said, as they reached the drawing-room floor.

"After breaking that vase?"

"Never mind the vase, Fanny."

"And nearly killing his cousin?"

"Nonsense, my dear, partial, motherly judge. Lookers-on see most of the game," said Uncle Richard good-humouredly. "I was looking on from the landing for some time, and from what I saw, I have no hesitation in saying that Master Tom got as good as he gave."

"But oh, Richard!"

"Tut--tut! Listen to me, my dear. Boys will quarrel and fight sometimes. I can remember a good many sets-to with Jem when we were young. These two have fought, and it's all over."

"But you really don't know," began Mrs Brandon.

"Oh yes, I do. Master Tom is not perfect. There, there, forget it all now; and let me send you a vase to replace the one broken. By the way, I hope they will not be long with that dinner."

"Oh no, it will not be long now--that is, if that insolent woman will condescend to send us up some."

"But she will," said Uncle Richard good-humouredly. "If she does not, and the worst comes to the worst, we'll storm her kitchen and finish the cooking ourselves. I'm a good cook in my way. Bachelors have their whims."

"Ah, you don't know what London servants are."

"No," said Uncle Richard, smiling pleasantly at the flurried lady, who was still troubled by the domestic storm through which she had just passed. "Mrs Fidler is a very good old soul in her way, and the maid has been with me some time now, and has evidently made up her mind to stop. I don't give them much trouble, except with my fads."

"And do you still go on with--with those--those--"

"Crazes?" said Uncle Richard smilingly. "To be sure I do. Ah, here's James. Well, old fellow, is it all right again?"

"Right again?" said Mr Brandon, who had just entered the room; "no, it is not. But there, I'm sorry there should be all this disturbance when you are here. It all comes of being charitable in the course of duty. But there, I'll say no more."

"That's right," said Uncle Richard, just as Mary entered the room with--

"If you please, ma'am, dinner is served."

"Hah!" cried Uncle Richard, rising to offer his arm to his sister-in-law. "But the boys are not down."

"No; and they are not coming," said Mr Brandon angrily.

"Oh, James dear!" protested Mrs Brandon.

"My dear Jem!" said Uncle Richard, smiling, "I put in my petition. The fight is over, so now let's have peace and--dinner."

"Oh, very well," said Mr Brandon. "Mary, go and tell Mr Samuel that we are waiting dinner for him."

"And, Mary, you will convey the same message to Mr Thomas," said Uncle Richard.

"Yes, sir," said the girl, with a smile; and before her master could protest she was gone.

Five minutes elapsed, during which Uncle Richard seemed to have forgotten his dinner in eager explanation of some piece of mechanism that he was making, and about which he had come up to town. At the end of that time Tom entered nervously, looking as if he had had his share of cuts and bruises; but to his great satisfaction no one said a word; and then Sam came in, looking very puffy about the eyes, and with one side of his mouth drawn down into a peculiar swollen smile.

"Oh!" exclaimed his mother, and she rose to fly to his side; but Uncle Richard was prepared for her, and took her hand to draw through his arm.

"That's right," he cried. "I am awfully hungry;" and he led her out of the room, followed by Mr Brandon, while Tom and Sam followed in silence down the stairs, each intent upon the plans he had in his breast, and fully determined to carry them out. _

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