sprry to be so late. I must have picked somethomg in the hospital, i have a nasty cough which is keeping me awakw, sore throat, gummy eyes and earache.
Chapter 10
I might have overestimated the laudanum; I heard from one of the regulars at Devonilll’s hell that he took two days to wake up. Oops.
Well, at least I hadn’t killed him.
He gave me a very jaundiced look when I next turned up.
“So, Halliwell got his ring back. I suppose someone so good at climbing did not burgle me overnight to get it?” he asked.
I looked puzzled.
“Why would I do that?” I asked. “It’s a long way from climbing a spire in broad daylight to suggesting effecting a nocturnal burglarious entry; and fighting words, too. I believe I resent such inflammatory comments.”
He pursed his lips.
“It was a joke, and not spoken seriously,” he said. “No, I apologise, I don’t see how you could have drugged me first, even if you could climb at night. I have a traitor on my staff.”
I shrugged.
“Apology accepted,” I said. “I heard that you had done the gentlemanly thing and let the silly fool redeem his geegaw.”
“That, at least, is the story; and he did give me the money pledged,” he said. “But something funny occurred, and not the sort you laugh about.”
I shrugged again.
“What is it you say when undergrads complain that they have been gulled? ‘Write it up to experience,’ I think you say.”
I don’t think that grinding his teeth like that could do them any good.
Well, I was hardly going to admit to having drugged and burgled him, was I?
I carried on with attending lectures, turning in essays, and gambling on Friday evenings.
“Adele, have you anywhere to go over Christmas?” asked Tony.
“Yes, I keep up an apartment in London,” I said. “I’ve lived there since I was twelve, though the concierge thinks I am a little old lady.”
“I rather think that you did not have much of a childhood,” said Tony, sadly.
“Oh, I went to school as well,” I said. “And made some good friends. One day, I’ll tell you all about my life, and we’ll see if you flee and want nothing more to do with me.”
“You’ve been living on the proceeds of burglary; I already worked that out,” said Tony, with what I thought was amazing aplomb.
“Well!” I said. “That was the part I was not looking forward to breaking to you. You assume that I have not turned to prostitution?”
“You, you are too fastidious,” he said, teasing me about my French idiom.
“And afraid of disease,” I said. “I picked pockets at Covent Garden, instead, and made sores with which to beg.”
“You are so enterprising,” he said.
Of all the responses to my exploits, I never expected that.
“You’re endearing yourself to me more and more,” I said.
Wellington also pulled me aside to ask if I had somewhere to go over Christmas.
“But yes,” I said. “Me, I spend the festive tide with La Grandmère. She who has worked to put me through school and university, and who will live in the lap of luxury from my winnings and later from my earning at the bar.”
“There are alternatives to having to make your way in a harsh world,” he said.
“But I have made my choices to do so,” I said.
“I could offer you a good life; and we can converse on the same level,” he said.
“But you want to tell me what to do,” I said. “If it were not for that, I would consider your words deeply.”
“I cannot change my habits so easily.”
“You must find someone who wants to be cherished,” I said. “Once, I would have leaped at it, the idea of affection, of being cared for, of having someone to make decisions and be a protective person. But, alas, I had nobody, and I learned to rely on myself, and to care for myself, and make my own decisions. And when you have once been in such a situation, you cannot go back. I weep for the young girl who would have been overjoyed and overwhelmed by the romance; but I know that romance is but a sham, and that if one does not rely on oneself, nobody else can be relied upon.”
“You poor child,” he said.
“No; the poor child died when she was twelve, and the strong person was born,” I said. “You would not like your solution; we should quarrel, and I would expect you to go my way, and that would displease you.”
“You have, at least, opened my eyes to what is possible,” he said, sadly.
I fled. It was too intense, and I should have started to want to comfort him, and that would have led further than I wanted to go with anyone as yet. Besides, I still felt as though he was an adult, and I was not, and that was a bit creepy. Even though we were supposed to be young gentlemen, not boys.
I also had to decide what to do about a letter I had received from Edwin, Earl Halliwell.
He thanked me gravely for saving his son’s honour, and wrote that I would always be welcome in their home, getting to know the family better.
The banker’s draft for £5000 was a shock; and not unwelcome. It also poked my conscience, since I had done it for sport and to do Devonilll an ill turn.
But then, it had not been easy, and could have had considerable consequences if I had been caught, and from the way young Halliwell threw money about, it was not going to break the bank.
I decided to accept it, and wrote, thanking the earl for his kind invitation, and declining on the grounds that I wished to spend what time I might with my grandmother, who had worked to put me through school and university, and who now deserved a quiet life, as she found it difficult to move around much now. That forestalled her being added to the invitation.
And it was nice to have a change of pace, away from the rarefied atmosphere of academe as it warred with the puerile peccadilloes of the undergraduates.
I laughed.
Mary and Nelly had fancied themselves the ‘bad girls’ of Mrs. Bridges’ school, and teased me about being so proper; me, who had paid for my schooling with thievery! They had no idea, and these overgrown schoolboys, apart from Tony, were the same, playing their ‘japes’ and despising the three swots, but I wager none of them could have rescued Halliwell’s ring.
I felt better about accepting the largesse from the earl after that.
The overgrown schoolboys had left a gift for the cleaners, in taking the statue of Xenophilus Tiberius Burbage, our splendid and sour-faced founder and decorating it festively.
The academic robes of Sir Xeno – as most people called him – had been painted green, with red stockings, and the combings of sheep had been glued painstakingly around the edges of his robe to represent fur, turning him into a representation of Santa Claus, and more particularly an image of the famous representation of the Spirit of Christmas Present from Charles Dickens’ story ‘A Christmas Carol’ published two or three years ago. Brown-wooled sheep combings had been added to his sternly clean-shaven visage as a beard, and his high, puritan hat had been adorned with a wire star wrapped in tinsel. He was further adorned with holly and ivy, and a smile had been painted onto his dour face.
A bon mot had been painted on the plinth; the Latin was shaky, but translated approximately,
In Christmastide shall Santa be abroad
As festive as our own Iron Master
As jolly as he ever might afford
Smiling at every failed Final disaster
I’m no poet, but the Latin was worse.
And it wasn’t fair; Mr. Wellington never smiled at failed finals. He took the failure of any student as a personal affront.
Oh, well, it was none of my business.
Nor was the goat introduced to the chapel and tied to the largest bell some time in the small hours of the morning. The goat’s attempts to escape must have woken half the town. It did not go on for long, and it transpired that the wretched beast had eaten its way through the fluffy things you have on the ends of bell pulls. I expect they have a proper name, but me, I do not care enough to find out.
I left Oxford by the next down train.
There was a comforting familiarity in sitting in my usual spot, begging, and watching people. I could no longer act as a juvenile seller of flyers, but I did note who came regularly, and set out to follow them in a different guise.
I was saddened to see that Kitty was back with the street-walkers; and when I made a reconnaissance to the house in Lambeth, it was empty, save for an old man.
“Where are the children?” I asked.
He spat.
“Scattered when one o’ them was nicked,” he said.
“You can stay here if you keep it clean,” I said. “I’ll even pay you.”
It was property of sorts, after all, and I had done it up to be weathertight.
“Wot, you the owner?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“Bye,” he said.
Some people are just like that.
I had a locksmith in to change the locks, and sold it to myself, that is, to Sara Deleven. I did not put it on the market right away; it was not worth much, after all. And I might just move out of my apartment in Henrietta Street and use the shack… house was too grand a term for it… to store all my disguises. It saved me seven bob a week, which was almost three quid a year.
The food was cheaper this side of the river, as well, though I did usually cross the river to eat in a better establishment than were to be found in Southwark.
I did not gamble in London.
Devonilll was unscrupulous, but he knew better than to send leg-breakers after any of the young gentlemen who won from him. He knew he would even up in the end, and it was not worth it to come to the ears of the Proctors.
Moreover, the other students were likely to avenge their fellows, and nobody wanted a town versus gown riot, which it would likely become.
The London hell owners had more free range to do as they pleased, not having any such partisan and close-knit community as a university. And it was not worth it.
I had a cushion of the money the earl had given me. I could afford to rest this holiday.
It went against the grain.
I gatecrashed a few parties instead, and found the games rooms. These affairs always have games rooms, to keep the gentlemen occupied and out of the way. I dropped the name of young Halliwell; and it was quite a social key.
“You must be young Edward Fairfax!” declared a distinguished looking gentleman. “Edwin Halliwell told me about you… you must allow me to sponsor you to White’s, of course.”
Well, that was useful. And now I had no problem in coming and going, because I would be expected to be at University during the term. I ended up meeting no end of people who would play with me quite happily. Of course, I did not cheat; I don’t consider using mathematics to be cheating. But I could hardly burgle any of them anymore.
I was introduced to Arthur Wellesley, the Duke of Wellington and got to sit with him at the table in front of that notorious bay window onto St. James’s Street.
“So, you managed to get the younger Halliwell’s ring back for him, eh? Care to tell me how?” he boomed.
“Only if you don’t have me arrested for breaking and entering,” I said.
“Oh, ho! Well, a bit of a cad, the fellow who won it from him, yes?” said the duke.
“More than a bit. He marks cards,” I said.
“Well, simple justice, then,” he said.
“If I’m not going to be in trouble?” I confirmed.
“Not a bit of it!” said the Iron Duke.
“Well, then! I concealed myself in a closet until I was sure the coast was clear, and ran up to Devonilll’s office, where I knew he kept a bottle for a nightcap. I put laudanum in it, and went on upstairs to his bedroom, where I hid under the bed. I waited until Devonilll had gone to sleep, and knew it would be quite deep sleep, took the ring, and climbed out of the window, and down a down-pipe,” I said. “It wasn’t stealing, as Halliwell had every intention of covering the bet he used it to pledge.”
Reader, really, do you think I was going to give away my true method? I’m not such a fool.
“Bold! Bold and decisive! And will you join the army? We can always use bold and decisive young officers.”
“I’d planned to be a barrister, my lord,” I said. “But I’ll keep it in mind, if there was any kind of recommendation in that suggestion.”
“Just drop me a line if you want to join up,” said Wellington.
I was essentially dismissed; but it did my reputation no harm, and I spent many a night playing whist, and winning what were considered modest sums to the members, using the honeyfall from the Earl of Halliwell as capital. Without it, I could not have dared play at such stakes.
Reader, by the time it was time for me to go back for the Hillary Term, I was up twenty thousand pounds.
Chapter 10
I might have overestimated the laudanum; I heard from one of the regulars at Devonilll’s hell that he took two days to wake up. Oops.
Well, at least I hadn’t killed him.
He gave me a very jaundiced look when I next turned up.
“So, Halliwell got his ring back. I suppose someone so good at climbing did not burgle me overnight to get it?” he asked.
I looked puzzled.
“Why would I do that?” I asked. “It’s a long way from climbing a spire in broad daylight to suggesting effecting a nocturnal burglarious entry; and fighting words, too. I believe I resent such inflammatory comments.”
He pursed his lips.
“It was a joke, and not spoken seriously,” he said. “No, I apologise, I don’t see how you could have drugged me first, even if you could climb at night. I have a traitor on my staff.”
I shrugged.
“Apology accepted,” I said. “I heard that you had done the gentlemanly thing and let the silly fool redeem his geegaw.”
“That, at least, is the story; and he did give me the money pledged,” he said. “But something funny occurred, and not the sort you laugh about.”
I shrugged again.
“What is it you say when undergrads complain that they have been gulled? ‘Write it up to experience,’ I think you say.”
I don’t think that grinding his teeth like that could do them any good.
Well, I was hardly going to admit to having drugged and burgled him, was I?
I carried on with attending lectures, turning in essays, and gambling on Friday evenings.
“Adele, have you anywhere to go over Christmas?” asked Tony.
“Yes, I keep up an apartment in London,” I said. “I’ve lived there since I was twelve, though the concierge thinks I am a little old lady.”
“I rather think that you did not have much of a childhood,” said Tony, sadly.
“Oh, I went to school as well,” I said. “And made some good friends. One day, I’ll tell you all about my life, and we’ll see if you flee and want nothing more to do with me.”
“You’ve been living on the proceeds of burglary; I already worked that out,” said Tony, with what I thought was amazing aplomb.
“Well!” I said. “That was the part I was not looking forward to breaking to you. You assume that I have not turned to prostitution?”
“You, you are too fastidious,” he said, teasing me about my French idiom.
“And afraid of disease,” I said. “I picked pockets at Covent Garden, instead, and made sores with which to beg.”
“You are so enterprising,” he said.
Of all the responses to my exploits, I never expected that.
“You’re endearing yourself to me more and more,” I said.
Wellington also pulled me aside to ask if I had somewhere to go over Christmas.
“But yes,” I said. “Me, I spend the festive tide with La Grandmère. She who has worked to put me through school and university, and who will live in the lap of luxury from my winnings and later from my earning at the bar.”
“There are alternatives to having to make your way in a harsh world,” he said.
“But I have made my choices to do so,” I said.
“I could offer you a good life; and we can converse on the same level,” he said.
“But you want to tell me what to do,” I said. “If it were not for that, I would consider your words deeply.”
“I cannot change my habits so easily.”
“You must find someone who wants to be cherished,” I said. “Once, I would have leaped at it, the idea of affection, of being cared for, of having someone to make decisions and be a protective person. But, alas, I had nobody, and I learned to rely on myself, and to care for myself, and make my own decisions. And when you have once been in such a situation, you cannot go back. I weep for the young girl who would have been overjoyed and overwhelmed by the romance; but I know that romance is but a sham, and that if one does not rely on oneself, nobody else can be relied upon.”
“You poor child,” he said.
“No; the poor child died when she was twelve, and the strong person was born,” I said. “You would not like your solution; we should quarrel, and I would expect you to go my way, and that would displease you.”
“You have, at least, opened my eyes to what is possible,” he said, sadly.
I fled. It was too intense, and I should have started to want to comfort him, and that would have led further than I wanted to go with anyone as yet. Besides, I still felt as though he was an adult, and I was not, and that was a bit creepy. Even though we were supposed to be young gentlemen, not boys.
I also had to decide what to do about a letter I had received from Edwin, Earl Halliwell.
He thanked me gravely for saving his son’s honour, and wrote that I would always be welcome in their home, getting to know the family better.
The banker’s draft for £5000 was a shock; and not unwelcome. It also poked my conscience, since I had done it for sport and to do Devonilll an ill turn.
But then, it had not been easy, and could have had considerable consequences if I had been caught, and from the way young Halliwell threw money about, it was not going to break the bank.
I decided to accept it, and wrote, thanking the earl for his kind invitation, and declining on the grounds that I wished to spend what time I might with my grandmother, who had worked to put me through school and university, and who now deserved a quiet life, as she found it difficult to move around much now. That forestalled her being added to the invitation.
And it was nice to have a change of pace, away from the rarefied atmosphere of academe as it warred with the puerile peccadilloes of the undergraduates.
I laughed.
Mary and Nelly had fancied themselves the ‘bad girls’ of Mrs. Bridges’ school, and teased me about being so proper; me, who had paid for my schooling with thievery! They had no idea, and these overgrown schoolboys, apart from Tony, were the same, playing their ‘japes’ and despising the three swots, but I wager none of them could have rescued Halliwell’s ring.
I felt better about accepting the largesse from the earl after that.
The overgrown schoolboys had left a gift for the cleaners, in taking the statue of Xenophilus Tiberius Burbage, our splendid and sour-faced founder and decorating it festively.
The academic robes of Sir Xeno – as most people called him – had been painted green, with red stockings, and the combings of sheep had been glued painstakingly around the edges of his robe to represent fur, turning him into a representation of Santa Claus, and more particularly an image of the famous representation of the Spirit of Christmas Present from Charles Dickens’ story ‘A Christmas Carol’ published two or three years ago. Brown-wooled sheep combings had been added to his sternly clean-shaven visage as a beard, and his high, puritan hat had been adorned with a wire star wrapped in tinsel. He was further adorned with holly and ivy, and a smile had been painted onto his dour face.
A bon mot had been painted on the plinth; the Latin was shaky, but translated approximately,
In Christmastide shall Santa be abroad
As festive as our own Iron Master
As jolly as he ever might afford
Smiling at every failed Final disaster
I’m no poet, but the Latin was worse.
And it wasn’t fair; Mr. Wellington never smiled at failed finals. He took the failure of any student as a personal affront.
Oh, well, it was none of my business.
Nor was the goat introduced to the chapel and tied to the largest bell some time in the small hours of the morning. The goat’s attempts to escape must have woken half the town. It did not go on for long, and it transpired that the wretched beast had eaten its way through the fluffy things you have on the ends of bell pulls. I expect they have a proper name, but me, I do not care enough to find out.
I left Oxford by the next down train.
There was a comforting familiarity in sitting in my usual spot, begging, and watching people. I could no longer act as a juvenile seller of flyers, but I did note who came regularly, and set out to follow them in a different guise.
I was saddened to see that Kitty was back with the street-walkers; and when I made a reconnaissance to the house in Lambeth, it was empty, save for an old man.
“Where are the children?” I asked.
He spat.
“Scattered when one o’ them was nicked,” he said.
“You can stay here if you keep it clean,” I said. “I’ll even pay you.”
It was property of sorts, after all, and I had done it up to be weathertight.
“Wot, you the owner?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“Bye,” he said.
Some people are just like that.
I had a locksmith in to change the locks, and sold it to myself, that is, to Sara Deleven. I did not put it on the market right away; it was not worth much, after all. And I might just move out of my apartment in Henrietta Street and use the shack… house was too grand a term for it… to store all my disguises. It saved me seven bob a week, which was almost three quid a year.
The food was cheaper this side of the river, as well, though I did usually cross the river to eat in a better establishment than were to be found in Southwark.
I did not gamble in London.
Devonilll was unscrupulous, but he knew better than to send leg-breakers after any of the young gentlemen who won from him. He knew he would even up in the end, and it was not worth it to come to the ears of the Proctors.
Moreover, the other students were likely to avenge their fellows, and nobody wanted a town versus gown riot, which it would likely become.
The London hell owners had more free range to do as they pleased, not having any such partisan and close-knit community as a university. And it was not worth it.
I had a cushion of the money the earl had given me. I could afford to rest this holiday.
It went against the grain.
I gatecrashed a few parties instead, and found the games rooms. These affairs always have games rooms, to keep the gentlemen occupied and out of the way. I dropped the name of young Halliwell; and it was quite a social key.
“You must be young Edward Fairfax!” declared a distinguished looking gentleman. “Edwin Halliwell told me about you… you must allow me to sponsor you to White’s, of course.”
Well, that was useful. And now I had no problem in coming and going, because I would be expected to be at University during the term. I ended up meeting no end of people who would play with me quite happily. Of course, I did not cheat; I don’t consider using mathematics to be cheating. But I could hardly burgle any of them anymore.
I was introduced to Arthur Wellesley, the Duke of Wellington and got to sit with him at the table in front of that notorious bay window onto St. James’s Street.
“So, you managed to get the younger Halliwell’s ring back for him, eh? Care to tell me how?” he boomed.
“Only if you don’t have me arrested for breaking and entering,” I said.
“Oh, ho! Well, a bit of a cad, the fellow who won it from him, yes?” said the duke.
“More than a bit. He marks cards,” I said.
“Well, simple justice, then,” he said.
“If I’m not going to be in trouble?” I confirmed.
“Not a bit of it!” said the Iron Duke.
“Well, then! I concealed myself in a closet until I was sure the coast was clear, and ran up to Devonilll’s office, where I knew he kept a bottle for a nightcap. I put laudanum in it, and went on upstairs to his bedroom, where I hid under the bed. I waited until Devonilll had gone to sleep, and knew it would be quite deep sleep, took the ring, and climbed out of the window, and down a down-pipe,” I said. “It wasn’t stealing, as Halliwell had every intention of covering the bet he used it to pledge.”
Reader, really, do you think I was going to give away my true method? I’m not such a fool.
“Bold! Bold and decisive! And will you join the army? We can always use bold and decisive young officers.”
“I’d planned to be a barrister, my lord,” I said. “But I’ll keep it in mind, if there was any kind of recommendation in that suggestion.”
“Just drop me a line if you want to join up,” said Wellington.
I was essentially dismissed; but it did my reputation no harm, and I spent many a night playing whist, and winning what were considered modest sums to the members, using the honeyfall from the Earl of Halliwell as capital. Without it, I could not have dared play at such stakes.
Reader, by the time it was time for me to go back for the Hillary Term, I was up twenty thousand pounds.
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