Mr. Betteredge

“ Mr. Bruff witnessed this proceeding, under protest, as he had witnessed everything else. But the strong dramatic interest which the experiment was now assuming proved (to my great amusement) to be too much for Betteredge's capacity of self-restraint. His hand trembled as he held the candle, and he whispered anxiously, "Are you sure, miss, it's the right drawer?"
I led the way out again, with the laudanum and water in my hand. At the door I stood to address a last word to Miss Verinder. ”

“ Merridew uttered another little scream. The advent of the explosion? No: only the advent of Betteredge.
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Jennings,” said Betteredge, in his most elaborately confidential manner. “Mr. Franklin wishes to know where you are. Being under your orders to deceive him, in respect to the presence of my young lady in the house, I have said I don’t know. That you will please to observe, was a lie. Having one foot already in the grave, sir, the fewer lies you expect me to tell, the more I shall be indebted to you, when my conscience pricks me and my time comes.” ”

“ We must try the next best man in England.”
Betteredge took another note; and I went on issuing my directions.
“Miss Verinder’s sitting-room to be restored exactly to what it was last year. Also, the corridor leading from the sitting-room to the first landing. Also, the second corridor, leading from the second landing to the best bedrooms. Also, the bedroom occupied last June by Mr. Franklin Blake.”
Betteredge’s blunt pencil followed me conscientiously, word by word. “Go on, sir,” he said, with sardonic gravity. “There’s a deal of writing left in the point of this pencil yet.” ”

“ When the work-people are gone, my feelings as a man get the better of my duty as a servant. Very good. Last night, Mr. Jennings, it was borne in powerfully on my mind that this new medical enterprise of yours would end badly. If I had yielded to that secret Dictate, I should have put all the furniture away again with my own hand, and have warned the workmen off the premises when they came the next morning."
"I am glad to find, from what I have seen up stairs," I said, "that you resisted the secret Dictate."
"Resisted isn't the word," answered Betteredge. "Wrostled is the word. ”

“ Mr. Blake walked on to wait for me in the garden, while I accompanied Betteredge into his room. I fully anticipated a demand for certain new concessions, following the precedent already established in the cases of the stuffed buzzard, and the Cupid's wing. To my great surprise, Betteredge laid his hand confidentially on my arm, and put this extraordinary question to me:
"Mr. Jennings, do you happen to be acquainted with Robinson Crusoe?" ”

“ I had the letter in my pocket, and the night-gown safely packed in a little bag—both to be submitted, before I slept that night, to the investigation of Mr. Bruff.
We left the house in silence. For the first time in my experience of him, I found old Betteredge in my company without a word to say to me. Having something to say on my side, I opened the conversation as soon as we were clear of the lodge gates.
"Before I go to London," I began, "I have two questions to ask you. They relate to myself, and I believe they will rather surprise you." ”

“ Betterton's quick step ascending the stairs, we all held our breath and watched the door as if something Supernatural was about to be revealed to us.
The next moment that door was thrown open and Mr. Betterton appeared upon the threshold.
Ah! if only You had seen him then, Mistress, your heart would have rejoiced, just as mine did, at the sight. Personally, I could never tell You if Mr. Betterton is tall or short, handsome or ill-favoured; all that I know is that when he is in a room you cannot look at any one else; he seems to dwarf every other Man by the Picturesqueness of his Personality. ”

“ Betterton listened to him until the end. You know that Power which he hath of seeming to tower above every one who stands nigh him? Well! he exercised that Power now. He stepped quite close to my Lord Stour, and though the latter is of more than average height, Mr. Betterton literally appeared to soar above him, with the sublime Magnificence of an outraged Man coming into his own at last.
"My Lord of Stour," he said, with perfect quietude, "a few weeks ago you insulted me as Man never dared to insult Man before. ”

“ Betterton, who was standing midway between him and the curtained Bay.
"How can I tell?" riposted the great Actor blandly, with a careless Shrug of his Shoulders. "I was not moon-gazing, as your Lordship appears to have done. A paper, did You say?"
"You are not alone," retorted my Lord roughly. "I heard a voice ... just now...."
"We are all apt to hear voices in the moonlight, my Lord," Mr. Betterton rejoined simply. "The Artist hears his Muse, the Lover his Mistress, the Criminal his Conscience." ”

“ The fortunate presence on the voyage of Mervale—who really seemed a very decent, quiet, generous sort of fellow—enabled George, when he could no longer keep up the pretence of good temper, to leave Miss Betterton in the care of the man from South Africa, returning when his equanimity was temporarily restored. Such was George's thankfulness to Mervale, that he determined to disclose to him the information concerning Miss Betterton's foreign friend in order to place him upon his guard.
"You are dull all at once, Mr. Wraight," complained Miss Betterton. "When we started you were quite bright. ”

“ Betterton with mock concern, "I am detaining you with my foolish talk. I pray you, Gentlemen, take no further heed of me. Time treads hard on your aristocratic Heels, whilst it is the Slave of a poor, shiftless Actor like myself."
"Yes, yes," once more interposed the mealy-mouthed Mr. Baggs. "I pray you, my Lords—your Ladyship—to come to my inner office——"
There was a general movement amongst the Company, during which I distinctly heard Lord Douglas Wychwoode whisper to my Lord Stour:
"Can you wonder that I always long to lay a stick across that Man's shoulders? ”

“ Then he paused abruptly, for he had caught sight of me, kneeling there, an humble and, I doubt not, a pathetic Figure; and, as you know, Mr. Betterton's heart is ever full of Pity for the Lowly and the Weak. By the flickering candle light I could distinguish his noble Features, a moment ago almost distorted with Passion, but now, all of a sudden, illumined by tender Sympathy. ”

“ Wraight," said Miss Betterton, with an attractive air of reproof.
"It's enough to make anybody," said George, gloomily.
"I wish you'd tell me what it is that's gone wrong, I'm sure there's something."
"I tell you there isn't," said George, doggedly.
"You're not cross—you're not put at all because I'm speaking to Mr. Mervale? You see he's such an old friend."
"I don't mind you talking to him," declared George, honestly. "Seems a straightforward sort of chap enough."
"Well, then," persisted Miss Betterton, "it must be something else. Is it anything I've said?" ”

“ His Grace of Albemarle tried once more to interpose with all the Authority of his years and of his distinguished Position, for indeed there was something almost awesome in Lord Stour's Wrath by now. But Mr. Betterton took the Words at once out of the great General's mouth.
"Nay, my Lord," he said with quiet Firmness, "I pray You, do not interfere. I am in no danger, I assure You. My Lord Stour would wish to kill me, no doubt. But, believe me, Fate did not ordain that Tom Betterton should die by such a hand ... the fickle Jade hath too keen a Sense of Humour." ”

“ Betterton's quietly ironical laugh broke in upon his senseless ebullitions.
"Liar?—Scoundrel, am I?" he said lightly, and, still laughing, he turned to the Gentlemen who stood beside him. "Nay! if the sight of a Scoundrel offends his Lordship, he should shut himself up in his own Room ... and break his Mirror!"
At this, my Lord Stour lost the last vestige of his self-control, seized Mr. Betterton by the Shoulder and verily, I thought, made as if he would strike him.
"You shall pay for this Insolence!" he cried. ”

“ He produced a huge old-fashioned leather pocket-book, with a pencil of dimensions to match. Having put on his spectacles, he opened the pocket-book, at a blank page, and addressed himself to me once more.
"I have lived," said Betteredge, looking at me sternly, "nigh on fifty years in the service of my late lady. I was page-boy before that, in the service of the old lord, her father. I am now somewhere between seventy and eighty years of age—never mind exactly where! I am reckoned to have got as pretty a knowledge and experience of the world as most men. ”

“ Betterton, I desire a word with you."
He came at once to a halt, and replied with perfect deference:
"I await your Ladyship's commands."
2
I was for hurrying away, thinking that my Presence would be irksome both to the Lady and to my Friend; but an unmistakable pressure of Mr. Betterton's hand on my arm caused me to stay where I was. As for the Lady, she appeared not to care whether I stayed or went, for immediately she retorted:
"My commands, Sir Actor? They are, that you at once and completely do Reparation for the wrong which you are trying to do to an innocent Man." ”

“ Mr.—er—Betterton has had mine Answer."
"Since then, my Lord," I insisted firmly, "Time hath no doubt brought saner Reflection. Mr. Betterton's Fame and his Genius have raised him to a level far above that conferred by mere Birth."
"Have made a Gentleman of him, You mean?" Lord Stour rejoined with a sarcastic curl of the lip.
"More noble far than any Gentleman in the Land," I retorted proudly. ”

“ Betterton and his Friends, and Her Grace's somewhat high-pitched voice came ringing shrilly to mine ear.
"Ah, Mr. Betterton!" she exclaimed. "Where have you hid yourself since yesterday, you wicked, adorable Man? And I, who wished to tell you how entirely splendid was your performance in that supremely dull play you call 'Love and Honour.' You were superb, Sir, positively superb! ... I was telling His Grace a moment ago that every Actor in the world is a mere Mountebank when compared with Mr. Betterton's Genius." ”

“ Betteridge, when he arrives (which he does after all has been over some time) that the present animal makes up for the morning's performance, whereat the heart of "Cottonopolis" is made joyful again.
As they ride together to the next draw—Colliston Gorse—Mr. Betteridge begs Sir John to come and dine with him that night quite alone, and to help him to interview Mr. James. Sir John, foreseeing a good result, accepts, and after dinner, at which meal Mr. Betteridge [Pg 195] hears some good wholesome truths, Mr. James is sent for. ”

“ He was therefore disposed to make himself very unpleasant to poor George if occasion should require.
"How delighted you must have been to see your father!" said Miss Baker, who, though her temper would not permit her to be uncivil to Mr. M'Gabbery, would readily have dispensed with that gentleman's attendance.
"Indeed, I was. I never saw him before, you know."
"Never saw him, your father, before, Mr. Bertram?" said Caroline. "Why, aunt Mary says that I have seen him."
"I never saw him to remember him. One doesn't count one's acquaintance before seven or eight years of age." ”

“ She vows that there is nothing she would not do for You. And, as already You are such a favourite with His Majesty, why, Man! there is no end to your good fortune."
And I, who watched Mr. Betterton's face again, thought to detect a strange, mysterious look in his eyes—something hidden and brooding was going on behind that noble brow, something that was altogether strange to the usually simple, unaffected and sunny temperament of the great Artist, and which I, his intimate Confidant and Friend, had not yet been able to fathom. ”

“ My Lord Stour, bewildered, un-understanding, tried to bluster.
"What are you doing, man?" he queried roughly. "Silence! Silence, I say!"
But Mr. Betterton only shouted the louder.
"Hallo, there! Friends! Enemies! England! Here!"
I could hear the Tumult outside. People were running hither from several directions, thinking, no doubt, that a Fire had broken out or that Murder was being done. I could hear them assembling beneath the window, which was not many feet from the Ground. "Why! it's Tom Betterton!" some of them said. And others added: "Hath he gone raving mad?" ”

“ Think of Sir William Davenant, dear Mistress, and his affection for Mr. Betterton; think of my Lord Roscommon and of Sir Charles Sedley and his Lordship of Rochester, whose Admiration for Mr. Betterton's Talent was only equalled by their Appreciation for His Worth! It was before them all, before all these fastidious Gentlemen, that the great and sensitive Artist had elected to humble his Pride to the dust.
But you shall judge.
"Gentlemen," Mr. Betterton went on after a brief while; "We all know that Love is a Game at which one always cheats. I loved the Lady Barbara Wychwoode. ”

“ Betterton to the greatest possible Advantage. No doubt that his overwhelming Success at that time was in a great measure due to his familiarity with all those authentic-looking doors and trees and distant skies which at first bewildered such old-fashioned actors as Mr. Harris or the two Messrs. Noakes.
Never indeed had Mr. Betterton been so great as he was now. Never had his Talents stood so high in the estimation of the cultured World. His success as Alvaro in "Love and Honour," as Solyman in the "Siege of Rhodes," as Hamlett or Pericles, stand before me as veritable Triumphs. ”