It was just the sort of chaise that I had dreamed of for my purpose: eminently rich, inconspicuous, and genteel; for, though I thought the postmaster no great authority, I was bound to agree with him so far.The body was painted a dark claret, and the wheels an invisible green.The lamp and glasses were bright as silver; and the whole equipage had an air of privacy and reserve that seemed to repel inquiry and disarm suspicion.With a servant like Rowley, and a chaise like this, I felt that I could go from the Land's End to John o' Groat's House amid a population of bowing ostlers.And I suppose I betrayed in my manner the degree in which the bargain tempted me.
'Come,' cried the postmaster - 'I'll make it seventy, to oblige a friend!'
'The point is: the horses,' said I.
'Well,' said he, consulting his watch, 'it's now gone the 'alf after eight.What time do you want her at the door?'
'Horses and all?' said I.
''Osses and all!' says he.'One good turn deserves another.You give me seventy pound for the shay, and I'll 'oss it for you.I told you I didn't MAKE 'osses; but I CAN make 'em, to oblige a friend.'
What would you have? It was not the wisest thing in the world to buy a chaise within a dozen miles of my uncle's house; but in this way I got my horses for the next stage.And by any other it appeared that I should have to wait.Accordingly I paid the money down - perhaps twenty pounds too much, though it was certainly a well-made and well-appointed vehicle - ordered it round in half an hour, and proceeded to refresh myself with breakfast.
The table to which I sat down occupied the recess of a bay-window, and commanded a view of the front of the inn, where I continued to be amused by the successive departures of travellers - the fussy and the offhand, the niggardly and the lavish - all exhibiting their different characters in that diagnostic moment of the farewell: some escorted to the stirrup or the chaise door by the chamberlain, the chambermaids and the waiters almost in a body, others moving off under a cloud, without human countenance.In the course of this I became interested in one for whom this ovation began to assume the proportions of a triumph; not only the under-
servants, but the barmaid, the landlady, and my friend the postmaster himself, crowding about the steps to speed his departure.I was aware, at the same time, of a good deal of merriment, as though the traveller were a man of a ready wit, and not too dignified to air it in that society.I leaned forward with a lively curiosity; and the next moment I had blotted myself behind the teapot.The popular traveller had turned to wave a farewell;
and behold! he was no other than my cousin Alain.It was a change of the sharpest from the angry, pallid man I had seen at Amersham Place.Ruddy to a fault, illuminated with vintages, crowned with his curls like Bacchus, he now stood before me for an instant, the perfect master of himself, smiling with airs of conscious popularity and insufferable condescension.He reminded me at once of a royal duke, or an actor turned a little elderly, and of a blatant bagman who should have been the illegitimate son of a gentleman.A moment after he was gliding noiselessly on the road to London.
I breathed again.I recognised, with heartfelt gratitude, how lucky I had been to go in by the stable-yard instead of the hostelry door, and what a fine occasion of meeting my cousin I had lost by the purchase of the claret-coloured chaise! The next moment I remembered that there was a waiter present.No doubt but he must have observed me when I crouched behind the breakfast equipage; no doubt but he must have commented on this unusual and undignified behaviour; and it was essential that I should do something to remove the impression.
'Waiter!' said I, 'that was the nephew of Count Carwell that just drove off, wasn't it?'
'Yes, sir: Viscount Carwell we calls him,' he replied.
'Ah, I thought as much,' said I.'Well, well, damn all these Frenchmen, say I!'
'You may say so indeed, sir,' said the waiter.'They ain't not to say in the same field with our 'ome-raised gentry.'
'Nasty tempers?' I suggested.
'Beas'ly temper, sir, the Viscount 'ave,' said the waiter with feeling.'Why, no longer agone than this morning, he was sitting breakfasting and reading in his paper.I suppose, sir, he come on some pilitical information, or it might be about 'orses, but he raps his 'and upon the table sudden and calls for curacoa.It gave me quite a turn, it did; he did it that sudden and 'ard.Now, sir, that may be manners in France, but hall I can say is, that I'm not used to it.'
'Reading the paper, was he?' said I.'What paper, eh?'
'Here it is, sir,' exclaimed the waiter.'Seems like as if he'd dropped it.'
And picking it off the floor he presented it to me.
I may say that I was quite prepared, that I already knew what to expect; but at sight of the cold print my heart stopped beating.
There it was: the fulfilment of Romaine's apprehension was before me; the paper was laid open at the capture of Clausel.I felt as if I could take a little curacoa myself, but on second thoughts called for brandy.It was badly wanted; and suddenly I observed the waiter's eye to sparkle, as it were, with some recognition;
made certain he had remarked the resemblance between me and Alain;
and became aware - as by a revelation - of the fool's part I had been playing.For I had now managed to put my identification beyond a doubt, if Alain should choose to make his inquiries at Aylesbury; and, as if that were not enough, I had added, at an expense of seventy pounds, a clue by which he might follow me through the length and breadth of England, in the shape of the claret-coloured chaise! That elegant equipage (which I began to regard as little better than a claret-coloured ante-room to the hangman's cart) coming presently to the door, I left my breakfast in the middle and departed; posting to the north as diligently as my cousin Alain was posting to the south, and putting my trust (such as it was) in an opposite direction and equal speed.
