"You don't mind if we--drive about a bit, do you, Beverley?"
"Not in the least."
"I--er--I generally go the longest way round when I have to call on--"
"On Gaunt?"
"Yes."
Now as they went, Barnabas noticed that a change had come over his
companion, his voice had lost much of its jovial ring, his eye its
sparkle, while his ruddy cheeks were paler than their wont; moreover
he was very silent, and sat with bent head and with his square
shoulders slouched dejectedly. Therefore Barnabas must needs cast
about for some means of rousing him from this depression.
"You drive a very handsome turnout," said he at last.
"It is neat, isn't it?" nodded Slingsby, his eye brightening.
"Very!" said Barnabas, "and the horses--"
"Horses!" cried the Captain, almost himself again, "ha,
b'gad--there's action for you--and blood too! I was a year matching
'em. Cost me eight hundred guineas--and cheap at the money--but--"
"Well?"
"After all, Beverley, they--aren't mine, you see."
"Not yours?"
"No. They're--his!"
"You mean--Gaunt's?"
The Captain nodded gloomily.
"Yes," said he, "my horses are his, my curricle's his, my clothes
are his--everything's his. So am I, b'gad! Oh, you needn't look so
infernal incredulous--fact, I assure you. And, when you come to
think of it--it's all cursed humorous, isn't it?" and here the
Captain contrived to laugh, though it rang very hollow, to be sure.
"You owe--a great deal then?" said Barnabas.
"Owe?" said the Captain, turning to look at him, "I'm in up to my
neck, and getting deeper. Owe! B'gad, Beverley--I believe you!" But
now, at sight of gravefaced Barnabas, he laughed again, and this
time it sounded less ghoul-like. "Debt is a habit," he continued
sententiously, "that grows on one most damnably, and creditors are
the most annoying people in the world--so confoundedly unreasonable!
Of course I pay 'em--now and then--deserving cases, y' know. Fellow
called on me t' other day,--seemed to know his face. 'Who are you?'
says I. 'I'm the man who makes your whips, sir,' says he. 'And
devilish good whips too!' says I, 'how much do I owe you?' 'Fifteen
pounds, sir,' says he, 'I wouldn't bother you only'--well, it
seemed his wife was sick--fellow actually blubbered! So of course I
rang for my rascal Danby, Danby's my valet, y' know. 'Have you any
money, Danby?' says I. 'No sir,' says he; queer thing, but Danby
never has, although I pay him regularly--devilish improvident fellow,
Danby! So I went out and unearthed Jerningham--and paid the fellow
on the spot--only right, y' know."
"But why not pay your debts with your own money?" Barnabas inquired.
"For the very good reason that it all went,--ages ago!"
"Why, then," said Barnabas, "earn more."
"Eh?" said the Captain, staring, "earn it? My dear Beverley, I never
earned anything in my life, except my beggarly pay, and that isn't
enough even for my cravats."