Davenport Dunn, a Man of Our Day. Volume 1

“I ‘ve been so busy of late; up to my ears, as they say. Going to start a new company, and thinking of asking your assistance too.”

“What’s the nature of it?”

“Well, it’s a kind of a mutual self-securing sort of thing against family accidents. You understand, – a species of universal guarantee to insure domestic peace and felicity, – a thing that will come home to us all; and I only want a few good names in the direction, to give the shares a push.”

Beecher looked imploringly, to try and restrain him; but he went on, —

“May I take the liberty to put you down on the committee of management?”

Before any answer could come to this speech, Mr. Clowes called out in a deep voice, —

“Mr. Annesley Beecher and Captain Davis;” and flung wide the door for them to pass out.

“Why did you say that to him, Grog?” whispered Beecher, as they moved along.

“Just because I was watching the way he looked at me. He had a hardy, bold expression on his face that showed he needed a reminder, and so I gave him one. Always have the first blow when you see a fellow means to strike you.”

Mr. Davenport Dunn rose as the visitors entered the’ room, and having motioned to them to be seated, took his place with his back to the fire, – a significant intimation that he did not anticipate a lengthy review. Whether it was that he had not previously settled in his own mind how to open the object of his visit, or that something in Dunn’s manner and appearance unlike what he anticipated had changed his intention; but certain is it that Beecher felt confused and embarrassed, and when reminded by Dunn’s saying, “I am at your service, sir,” he turned a most imploring look towards Davis to come to his rescue. The captain, however, with more tact, paid no attention to the appeal; and Beecher, with an immense effort, stammered out, “I have taken the liberty to call on you. I have come here today in consequence of a letter – that is, my brother, Lord Lackington – You know my brother?”

“I have that honor, sir.”

“Well, in writing to me a few days back, he added a hurried postscript, saying he had just seen you; that you were then starting for Ireland, where, on your arrival, it would be well I should wait upon you at once.”

“Did his Lordship mention with what object, sir?”

“I can’t exactly say that he did. He said something about your being his man of business, thoroughly acquainted with all his affairs, and so, of course, I expected – I believed, at least – that you might be able to lead the way, – to show me the line of country, as one might call it,” added he, with a desperate attempt to regain his ease by recurring to his favorite phraseology.

“Really, sir, my engagements are so numerous that I have to throw myself on the kindness of those who favor me with a call to explain the object of their visit.”

“I haven’t got Lackington’s letter about me; but if I remember aright, all he said was, ‘See Dunn as soon as you can, and he ‘ll put you up to a thing or two,’ or words to that effect.”

“I regret deeply, sir, that the expressions give me no clew to the matter in hand.”

“If this ain’t fencing, my name isn’t Davis,” said Grog, breaking in. “You know well, without any going about the bush, what he comes about; and all this skirmishing is only to see if he’s as well ‘up’ as yourself in his own business. Now then, no more chaff, but go in at once.”

“May I ask who is this gentleman?”

“A friend, – a very particular friend of mine,” said Beecher, quickly, – “Captain Davis.”

“Captain Davis,” repeated Dunn, in a half voice to himself, as if to assist his memory to some effort, – “Captain Davis.”

“Just so,” said Grog, defiantly, – “Captain Davis.”

“Does his Lordship’s letter mention I should have the honor of a call from Captain Davis, sir?”

“No; but as he’s my own intimate friend, – a gentleman who possesses all my confidence, – I thought, indeed, I felt, the importance of having his advice upon any questions that might arise in this interview.”

“I ‘m afraid, sir, you have subjected your friend to a most unprofitable inconvenience.”

“The match postponed till further notice,” whispered Grog.

“I beg pardon, sir,” said Dunn, not overhearing the remark.

“I was a saying that no race would come off to-day, in consequence of the inclemency of the weather,” said Grog, as he adjusted his shirt collar.

“Am I to conclude, then,” said Beecher, “that you have not any communication to make to me?”

“No, you ain’t,” broke in Grog, quickly. “He don’t like me, that’s all, and he has n’t the manliness to say it.”

“On the contrary, sir, I feel all the advantage of your presence on this occasion, all the benefit of that straightforward manner of putting the question which saves us so much valuable time.”

Grog bowed an acknowledgment of the compliment, but with a grin on his face that showed in what spirit he accepted it.

“Lord Lackington did not speak to you about my allowance?” asked Beecher, losing all patience.

“No, sir, not a word.”

“He did not allude to a notion – he did not mention a plan – he did not discuss people called O’Reilly, did he?” asked he, growing more and more confused and embarrassed.

“Not a syllable with reference to such a name escaped him, sir.”

“Don’t you see,” said Grog, rising, “that you ‘ll have to look for the explanation to the second column of the ‘Times,’ where ‘A. B. will hear something to his advantage if he calls without C.D.’?”

Davenport Dunn paid no attention to this remark, but stood calmly impassive before them.

“It comes to this, then, that Lackington has been hoaxing me,” said Beecher, rising, with an expression of ill-temper on his face.

“I should rather suggest another possibility,” said Dunn, politely; “that, knowing how far his Lordship has graciously reposed his own confidence in me, he has generously extended to me the chance of obtaining the same position of trust on the part of his brother, – an honor I am most ambitious to attain. If you are disengaged on Sunday next,” added he, in a low voice, “and would favor me with your company at dinner, alone, – quite alone – ”

Beecher bowed an assent in silence, casting a cautious glance towards Davis, who was scanning the contents of the morning paper.

“Till then,” muttered Dunn, while he added aloud, “A good-morning,” and bowed them both to the door.

“Well, you are a soft un, there’s no denying it,” said Davis, as they gained the street.

“What d’ye mean?” cried Beecher, angrily.

“Why, don’t you see how you spoiled all? I’d have had the whole story out of him, but you would n’t give me time to ‘work the oracle.’ He only wanted to show us how cunning he was, – that he was deep and all that; and when he saw that we were all wonder and amazement about his shrewdness, then he ‘d have gone to business.”

“Not a bit of it, Master Grog; that fellow’s wide awake, I tell you.”

“So much the worse for you, then, that’s all.”

“Why so?”

“Because you’re a going to dine with him on Sunday next, all alone. I heard it, though you did n’t think I was listening, and I saw the look that passed, too, as much as to say, ‘We ‘ll not have that fellow;’ and that’s the reason I say, ‘So much the worse for you.’”

“Why, what can he do, with all his craft? He can’t make me put my name to paper; and if he did, much good would it do him.”