# Vice Versa/Chapter 18

'The is noon in this hous schuld bynde me this night.' —The Coke's Tale of Gamelyn.
Dick burst open the door of the billiard-room rather suddenly, and then stood holding on to the handle and smiling down upon his relative in a happy and affectionate but rather weak manner.
'So here you are!' he said. 'Been lookin' for you everywhere. What's good of shutting 'self in here? Come up and play gamesh. No? Come in and have shupper. I've had shupper.'
'So I perceive,' observed Uncle Marmaduke; and the fact was certainly obvious enough.
'Tell y'what I did,' giggled the wretched Dick. 'You know I never did get what I call regular good blow out—always some one to shay 'had quite 'nough' 'fore I'd begun. So I thought this time I would have a tuck-in till—till I felt tired, and I—he-he-he—I got down 'fore anybody elsh and helped myshelf. Had first go-in. No one to help to thingsh. No girlsh to bother. It was prime! When they've all gone up again you and me'll go in and have shome more, eh?'
'You're a model host,' said his uncle.
'It's a good shupper,' Dick went on. 'I ought to know. I've had some of everything. It'sh almost too good for kids. But it'sh a good thing I went in first. After I'd been in a little time I saw a sponge-cake on the table, and when I tried it, what d'ye think I found? It was as full inside of brandy-an'-sherry as it could be. All it could do to shtand! I saw d'rectly it washn't in condition come to table, and I said, 'Take it away! take it away! It'sh drunk; it'sh a dishgraceful sight for children!' But they wouldn't take it away; sho I had to take it away. But you can't take away a whole tipshy-cake!'
'I am quite sure you did your best,' murmured Paradine.
'Been having such gamesh upstairs!' said Dick, with another giggle. 'That lil' Dolly Merridew's jolly girl. Not sho nice as Dulcie, though. Why didn' we invite Dulcie? I wanted them to invite Dulcie. Here, you, let'sh go up and let off fireworksh on balcony, eh? Letsh have jolly lark!'
'No, no,' said his uncle. 'You and I are too old for that sort of thing. You should leave the larks to the young fellows.'
'How do you know I'm too old for sorterthing?' said Dick, with an offended air.
'Well, you're not a young man any longer, you know. You ought to behave like the steady old buffer you look.'
'Why?' demanded Dick; 'why should I behave like shteady ole buffer, when I don't feel shteady ole buffer? What do you want shpoil fun for? Tell you I shall do jus' zackly wharriplease. And, if you shay any more, I'll punch y' head!'
'No, no,' said his uncle, slightly alarmed at this intimation. 'Come, you're not going to quarrel with me, I'm sure!'
'All ri',' said Dick. 'No; I won' quarrel. Don' wanter quarrel anybody.'
'That's right,' said Paradine. 'I knew you were a noble fellow!'
'Sho I am,' said Dick, shaking hands with effusion. 'Sho are you. Nearly ash noble 'sh me. There, you're jolly good fellow. I say, I've goo' mind tell you something. Make you laugh. But I won't; not now.'
'Oh, you can tell me,' said Marmaduke. 'No secrets between friends, you know.'
'Shan't tell you now,' said Dick. 'Keep shecret little longer.'
'Do you know, my friend, that there's something very odd about you I've noticed lately? Something that makes me almost fancy sometimes you're not what you pretend to be.'
Dick sat down heavily on one of the leather benches placed against the wall.
'Eh, what d'you shay?' he gasped. 'Shay tharragain.'
'You look to me,' said Marmaduke slowly, 'like some one excellently made up for the part of heavy father, without a notion how to play it. Dick, you young dog, you see I know you! You can't take me in with all this. You'd better tell me all about it.'
Dick seemed almost sobered by this shock.
'You've found me out,' he repeated dully. 'Then it's all up. If you've found me out, everybody elsh can find me out!'
'No, no; it's not so bad as that, my boy. I've better eyes than most people, and then I had the privilege of knowing your excellent father rather well once upon a time. You haven't studied his little peculiarities closely enough; but you'll improve. By the way, where is your excellent father all this time?'
'He's all right,' said Dick, beginning to chuckle. 'He-he. He's at school, he is!'
'At school. You mean to say you've put him to school at his time of life! He's rather old for that sort of thing, isn't he? They don't take him on the ordinary terms, do they?'
'Ah,' said Dick, 'that'sh where it is. He isn't old, you see, now, to look at. I took care of all that!'
'Not old to look at! Then how on earth—— I should like to know how you managed all that. What have you been doing to the poor gentleman?'
'That'sh my affair,' said Dick. 'An' if I don' tell you you won' find that out anyway!'
'There's only one way you could have done it,' said Paradine, pretending to hesitate. 'It must have been done by some meddling with magic. Now what—— Let me see—yes—— Surely the Stone I brought your poor mother from India was given to me as a talisman of some sort? You can't have been sharp enough to get hold of that!'
'How did you know?' cried Dick sharply. 'Who told you?'
'I am right, then? Well, you are a clever fellow. I should like to know how you did it, now?'
'Did it with the Shtone,' said Dick, evidently discomposed by such unexpected penetration, but unable to prevent a little natural complacency. 'All my own idea. No one helped me. It—it washn't sho bad for me, wash it?'
'Bad! it was capital!' cried Marmaduke enthusiastically. 'It was a stroke of genius! And so my Indian Stone has done all this for you. Sounds like an Arabian Night, by Jove! By-the-by, you don't happen to have it about you, do you? I should rather like to look at it again. It's a real curiosity after this.'
Paul trembled with anxiety. Would Dick be induced to part with it? If so, he was saved! But Dick looked at his uncle's outstretched hand, and wagged his head with tipsy cunning.
'I dareshay you would,' he said, 'but I'm not sho green as all that. Don't let that Stone out of my hands for anyone.'
'Why, I only wanted to look at it for a minute or two,' said Marmaduke; 'I wouldn't hurt it or lose it.'
'You won' get chance,' said Dick.
'Oh, very well,' said Paradine carelessly, 'just as you please, it doesn't matter; though when we come to talk things over a little, you may find it better to trust me more than that.'
'Wha' do you mean?' said Dick uneasily.
'Well, I'll try to explain as well as I can, my boy (drink a little of this soda water first, it's an excellent thing after supper); there, you're better now, aren't you? Now, I've found you out, as you see; but only because I knew something of the powers of this Stone of yours, and guessed the rest. It doesn't at all follow that other people, who know nothing at all, will be as sharp; if you're more careful about your behaviour in future—unless, unless, young fellow——' and here he paused meaningly.
'Unless what?' asked Dick suspiciously.
'Unless I chose to tell them what I've found out.'
'What would you tell them?' said Dick.
'What? Why, what I know of this talisman; tell them to use their eyes; they wouldn't be very long before they found out that something was wrong. And when one or two of your father's friends once get hold of the idea, your game will be very soon over—you know that as well as I do.'
'But,' stammered Dick, 'you wouldn't go and do beastly mean thing like that? I've not been bad fellow to you.'
'The meanness, my dear boy, depends entirely upon the view you take of it. Now, the question with me, as a man of honour (and I may tell you an over-nice sense of honour has been a drawback I've had to struggle against all my life), the question with me is this: Is it not my plain duty to step in and put a stop to this topsy-turvy state of things, to show you up as the barefaced young impostor you are, and restore my unhappy brother-in-law to his proper position?'
'Very well expressed,' thought Paul, who had been getting uncomfortable; 'he has a heart, as he said, after all!'
'How does that seem to strike you?' added Paradine.
'It shtrikes me as awful rot,' said Dick, with refreshing candour.
'It's the language of conscience, but I don't expect you to see it in the same light. I don't mind confessing to you, either, that I'm a poor devil to whom money and a safe and respectable position (all of which I have here) are great considerations. But whenever I see the finger of duty and honour and family affection all beckoning me along a particular road, I make a point of obeying their monitions—occasionally. I don't mean to say that I never have bolted down a back way, instead, when it was made worth my while, or that I never will.'
'I wonder what he's driving at now,' thought Paul.
'I don't know about duty and honour, and all that,' said Dick; 'my head aches, it's the noise they're making upstairs. Are you goin' to tell?'
'The fact is, my dear boy, that when one has had a keen sense of honour in constant use for several years, it's like most other articles, apt to become a little the worse for wear. Mine is not what it used to be, Dicky (that's your name, isn't it?). Our powers fail as we grow old.'
'I don' know what you're talking about!' said Dick helplessly. 'Do tell me what you mean to do.'
'Well then, your head's clear enough to understand this much, I hope,' said Paradine a little impatiently, 'that, if I did my duty and exposed you, you wouldn't be able to keep up the farce for a single hour, in spite of all your personal advantages—you know that, don't you?'
'I shpose I know that,' said Dick feebly.
'You know too, that if I could be induced—mind, I don't say I can—to hold my tongue and stay on here and look after you and keep you from betraying yourself by any more of these schoolboy follies, there's not much fear that anyone else will ever find out the secret——'
'Which are you going to do, then?' said Dick.
'Suppose I say that I like you, that you have shown me more kindness in a single week than ever your respectable father has since I first made his acquaintance? Suppose I say that I am willing to let the sense of honour and duty, and all the rest of it, go overboard together; that we two together are a match for Papa, wherever he may be and whatever he chooses to say and do?'
There was a veiled defiance in his voice that seemed meant for more than Dick, and alarmed Mr. Bultitude; however, he tried to calm his uneasiness and persuade himself that it was part of the plot.
'Will you say that?' cried Dick excitedly.
'On one condition, which I'll tell you by-and-by. Yes, I'll stand by you, my boy, I'll coach you till I make you a man of business every bit as good as your father, and a much better man of the world. I'll show you how to realise a colossal fortune if you only take my advice. And we'll pack Papa off to some place abroad where he'll have no holidays and give no trouble!'
'No,' said Dick firmly; 'I won't have that. After all, he's my governor.'
'Do what you like with him then, he can't do much harm. I tell you, I'll do all this, on one condition—it's a very simple one——'
'What is it?' asked Dick.
'This. You have, somewhere or other, the Stone that has done all this for you—you may have it about you at this very moment—ah!' (as Dick made a sudden movement towards his white waistcoat) 'I thought so! Well, I want that Stone. You were afraid to leave it in my hands for a minute or two just now; you must trust me with it altogether.'
Paul was relieved; of course this was merely an artifice to recover the Garudâ Stone, and Marmaduke was not playing him false after all—he waited breathlessly for Dick's answer.
'No,' said Dick, 'I can't do that; I want it too.'
'Why, man, what use is it to you? it only gives you one wish, you can't use it again.'
Dick mumbled something about his being ill, and Barbara wishing him well again.
'I suppose I can do that as well as Barbara,' said his uncle. 'Come, don't be obstinate, give me the Stone; it's very important that it should be in safe hands.'
'No,' said Dick obstinately; he was fumbling all the time irresolutely in his pockets; 'I mean to keep it myself.'
'Very well then, I have done with you. To-morrow morning I shall step up to Mincing Lane, and then to your father's solicitor. I think his offices are in Bedford Row, but I can easily find out at your father's place. After that, young man, you'll have a very short time to amuse yourself in, so make the best of it.'
'No, don't leave me, let me alone for a minute,' pleaded Dick, still fumbling.
At this a sudden suspicion of his brother-in-law's motives for wishing to get the Stone into his own hands overcame all Paul's prudence. If he was so clever in deceiving Dick, might he not be cheating him, too, just as completely? He could wait no longer, but burst from behind the screen and rushed in between the pair.
'Go back!' screamed Paradine. 'You infernal old idiot, you've ruined everything!'
'I won't go back,' said Paul, 'I don't believe in you. I'll hide no longer. Dick, I forbid you to trust that man.'
Dick had risen in horror at the sudden apparition, and staggered back against the wall, where he stood staring stupidly at his unfortunate father with fixed and vacant eyes.
'Badly as you've treated me, I'd rather trust you than that shifty plausible fellow there. Just look at me, Dick, and then say if you can let this cruelty go on. If you knew all I've suffered since I have been among those infernal boys, you would pity me, you would indeed. . . . If you send me back there again, it will kill me. . . . You know as well as I do that it is worse for me than ever it could be for you. . . . You can't really justify yourself because of a thoughtless wish of mine, spoken without the least intention of being taken at my word. Dick, I may not have shown as much affection for you as I might have done, but I don't think I deserve all this. Be generous with me now, and I swear you will never regret it.'
Dick's lips moved; there really was something like pity and repentance in his face, muddled and dazed as his general expression was by his recent over-indulgence, but he said nothing.
'Give papa the Stone by all means,' sneered Paradine. 'If you do, he will find some one to wish the pair of you back again, and then, back you go to school again, the laughing-stock of everybody, you silly young cub!'
'Don't listen to him, Dick,' urged Paul. 'Give it to me, for Heaven's sake; if you let him have it, he'll use it to ruin us all.'
But Dick turned his white face to the rival claimants and said, getting the words out with difficulty: 'Papa, I'm shorry. It is a shame. If I had the Shtone, I really would give it you, upon my word-an'-honour I would. But—but, now I can't ever give it up to you. It'sh gone. Losht!'
'Lost!' cried Marmaduke. 'When, where? When do you last recollect seeing it? you must know!'
'In the morning,' said Dick, twirling his chain, where part of the cheap gilt fastening still hung.
'No; afternoon. I don't know,' he added helplessly.
Paul sank down on a chair with a heartbroken groan; a moment ago he had felt himself very near his goal, he had regained something of his old influence over Dick, he had actually managed to touch his heart—and now it was all in vain!
Paradine's jaw fell; he, too, had had his dreams of doing wonderful things with the talisman after he had cajoled Dick to part with it. Whether the restoration of his brother-in-law formed any part of his programme, it is better, perhaps, not to inquire. His dreams were scattered now; the Stone might be anywhere, buried in London mud, lying on railway ballast, or ground to powder by cartwheels. There was little chance, indeed, that even the most liberal rewards would lead to discovery. He swore long and comprehensively.
As for Mr. Bultitude, he sat motionless in his chair, staring in dull, speechless reproach at the conscience-stricken Dick, who stood in the corner blinking and whimpering with an abject penitence, odd and painful to see in one of his portly form. The children had now apparently finished supper, for there were sounds above as of dancing, and 'Sir Roger de Coverley,' with its rollicking, never-wearying repetition, was distinctly audible above the din and laughter. Once before, a week ago that very day, had that heartless piano mocked him with its untimely gaiety.
But things were not at their worst even yet, for, while they sat like this, there was a sharp, short peal at the house-bell, followed by loud and rather angry knocking, for carriages being no longer expected, the servants and waiters had now closed the front-door, and left the passage for the supper-room.
'The visitors' bell!' cried Paul, roused from his apathy; and he rushed to the window which commanded a side-view of the portico; it might be only a servant calling for one of the children, but he feared the worst, and could not rest till he knew it.
It was a rash thing to do, for as he drew the blind, he saw a large person in a heavy Inverness cloak standing on the steps, and (which was worse) the person both saw and recognised him!
With fascinated horror, Mr. Bultitude saw the Doctor's small grey eyes fixed angrily on him, and knew that he was hunted down at last.
He turned to the other two with a sort of ghastly composure: 'It's all over now,' he said. 'I've just seen Dr. Grimstone standing on my doorstep; he has come after me.'
Uncle Marmaduke gave a malicious little laugh: 'I'm sorry for you, my friend,' he said, 'but I really can't help it.'
'You can,' said Paul; 'you can tell him what you know. You can save me.'
'Very poor economy that,' said Marmaduke airily. 'I prefer spending to saving, always did. I have my own interests to consider, my dear Paul.'
'Dick,' said poor Mr. Bultitude, disgusted at this exhibition of selfishness, 'you said you were sorry just now. Will you tell him the truth?'
But Dick was quite unnerved, he cowered away, almost crying; 'I daren't, I daren't,' he stammered; 'I—I can't go back to the fellows like this. I'm afraid to tell him. I—I want to hide somewhere.'
And certainly he was in no condition to convince an angry schoolmaster of anything whatever, except that he was in a state very unbecoming to the head of a family.
It was all over; Paul saw that too well, he dashed frantically from the fatal billiard-room, and in the hall met Boaler preparing to admit the visitor.
'Don't open the door!' he screamed. 'Keep him out, you mustn't let him in. It's Dr. Grimstone.'
Boaler, surprised as he naturally was at his young master's unaccountable appearance and evident panic, nevertheless never moved a muscle of his face; he was one of those perfectly bred servants, who, if they chanced to open the door to a ghoul or a skeleton, would merely inquire, 'What name, if you please?'
'I must go and ask your Par, then, Master Dick; there's time to 'ook it upstairs while I'm gone. I won't say nothing,' he added compassionately.
Paul lost no time in following this suggestion, but rushed upstairs, two or three steps at the time, stumbling at every flight, with a hideous nightmare feeling that some invisible thing behind was trying to trip up his heels.
He rushed blindly past the conservatory, which was lit up by Chinese lanterns and crowded with 'little Kate Greenaway' maidens crowned with fantastic headdresses out of the crackers, and comparing presents with boy-lovers; he upset perspiring waiters with glasses and trays, and scattered the children sitting on the stairs, as he bounded on in his reckless flight, leaving crashes of glass behind him.
He had no clear idea of what he meant to do; he thought of barricading himself in his bedroom and hiding in the wardrobe; he had desperate notions of getting on to the housetop by means of a step-ladder and the sky-light above the nursery landing; on one point he was resolved—he would not be retaken alive!
Never before in this commonplace London world of ours was an unfortunate householder hunted up his own staircase in this distressing manner; even his terror did not blind him to the extreme ignominy and injustice of his position.
And below he heard the bell ringing more and more impatiently, as the Doctor still remained on the wrong side of the door. In another minute he must be admitted—and then!
Who will not sympathise with Mr. Bultitude as he approaches the crisis of his misfortunes? I protest, for my own part, that as I am compelled to describe him springing from step to step in wild terror, like a highly respectable chamois before some Alpine marksman, my own heart bleeds for him, and I hasten to end my distressing tale, and make the rest of it as little painful as I may with honesty.