THE NOVELIST

Observer, Volume 3, Issue 55, 1 October 1881, Page 41

THE NOVELIST

A HARD CASE FOR A LANDLORD.

"Tom, Tom, where's your master? Eliza, Jane, Dick, find out" where, your master is, and tell him to come to me at onee — at once, do you hear?"

These words, uttered in a distracted voice by Mrs Bound, landlady of the Buck Hotel, at Looborougli, soon caused her husband, Joel Round, to be ferreted out of the cellar, where he was inspecting his stock of dry champagne, and he came mumbling up the stone steps, ,in wonder as to what could be the matter. He had a baize apron on and carried a tallow candle, set in a

verdigrised candlestick, all covered with, shrouds. His hands were grimy, and he was annoyed at having heen disturbed from his work before it was ended. " "What is it, Mary ?" he asked. " Anything up ? One would think the house was on fire, to hear all that hollaring." "Come in here," answered Ms wife quickly, and having beckoned him into the parlour behind the bar, whispered in a voice of positive agony, " Joel, the lady in- Number Three has got the small-pox." "Who told you?" asked Joel in an altered voice. As he spoke, down went his candlestick on the table, and off went his apron. He could not have looked more fierce and active if he had heard there was a burglar on the premises. " Dr Oooley has been, and he says the case is a bad one ? he has ordered fires to be lit in both rooms, and talks of sending a nurse presently." " Fires and nurse be d d," exclaimed Joel impetuously. " She must turn out of this ; I'll go up and tell her husband so." " Stop, Joel, dear, how long is it since you were vaccinated ? " inquired his wife, laying an arresting hand on his arm. . All Joel's valour coagulated in a lump within his throat, and stuck there. " Send up Tom," he gasped. " Let's see, what's that party's name ? — Mr Belworth. Yes, tell Tom I must see Mr Belworth this minute." Mr Belworth was not long in coming down. He was a youny barrister, who had been married less than a week, and was staying at Looborough for his honeymoon. Now, his bride had caught the small-pox, he looked as a man naturally would look under snch doleful circumstances, and, in his distress, he was unprepared for the intimation which the landlord gave him, that he must take his sick wife out of the house at once. " How can I take her out, when the doctor says she is to be kept from all exposure to the air ? " said Mr Belworth, indignantly. "Look at the weather." It was raining hard, and the weather had been wet for the last three days. Though the season was summer, it was as cold as in .March. " I can't help it, sir," replied the landlord of the Buck, who, as he spoke, flourished a wisp of

smouldering brown paper between himself and his guest, in hope of dispelling the miasmas which, the latter might be carrying about with. him. " A case of small-pox in my house at this time, might be the ruin of me. You know, sir, Looborough races begin on Monday, and I told you when you took the rooms that I couldn't let you have 'em beyond next Friday night, as they were .bespoken for a whole week from Saturday morning. They're the best rooms in the house that you're got, and they're to be occupied by Lord .and Lady Trotham." " I know that, but this is an unexpected calamity that has befallen me," said Mr Belworth, impatiently ; then he asked, " supposing he did remove his wife from the house, where could he take her to?" " There's the country hospital, sir, she'd be better cared for there than she can be here." "But Dr Cooley told me it was five miles off, and at the top of a hill, so that one would be two hours reaching it." ; " I wish Dr Cooley 'ud mind his own business," blurted out Joel Bound, excitedly, for he had been on the point of saying that the hospital was but twenty minutes distant, which was true, reckoning as the crow flies. " But I'll tell you what, sir, you can have your lady taken to the union infirmary, which is just five minutes' walk from here. Please think of my position, Mr [ Belworth, sir ; race-week is the only time in the j year when I make any money. My house is always full then, and I am bound to make four hundred pounds in the seven days, if all goes well; but I shan't have a soul to lodge here if it's known that I've small-pox in the house." The man's voice almost broke with self-compassion as he shaped this prospect into words. " Very well, I'll consider," said Mr Belworth, and he strode from the room, pained and angry, because he had met with none of the sympathy which he felt to be his due. Joel Bound called after him, wishing the matter to be settled 1 out of hand ; but he walked upstairs without replying. Mr Belworth was just then thinking only of his poor young wife's sufferings and I danger j but he was a right-minded man, who, as soon as he had become calm, confessed to himself that since he could not afford to pay Mr Bound an indemnity of four hundred pouuds, he had no business to make him incur the loss of all his race-week's profits. Joel Bound, however, being ignorant of what was passing in his guest's mind, viewed his departure with sheer exasperation. Joel had been but two years landlord of the " Buck," having previously served twenty years as footman and butler in Lord Looborough's household, and having ultimately married Lady Looborough's maid. My Lord had quarrelled with the Fox, the old posting hotel of the town, owing to polities ; and, in assisting his former bntler to settle at the Buck, had promised him his liberal patronage. By means of hunt dinners and occasional guests during the hunting season, the Buck managed to pay its expenses fairly during fifty-one weeks out of the year ; but it was during race-week that Joel really made the money by which he could compute his income* All he had said to Mr Belworth on this subject was perfectly true, and he marvelled at his guest's hai'd-heartedness not less than Mr Belworth had been disgusted at his. It suddenly occurred to Joel to think of how that beast Miggins, landlord of the Fox, would rub his hands if anything happened to scare visitors away from the Buck, and this drove him frantic. "Mary," he cried, summoning his wife, who had retired during his interview with Mr Belworth ; " that scoundrel upstairs refuses to go. He 's no gentleman, and I expect that woman whom he calls his wife isn't worth much. But since they won't go of their own . accord, I'll starve them out. Mind, if Number Three rings for anything he's not to be served ; he mustn't have so much as a glass of water. Don't allow Dick to carry him up any more coals, or Jane to do the rooms. I'll be master in my own house, I will!" A few minutes after this declaration of the landlord, Mr Belworth, who had been standing very sadly by his wife's bedside, rang for some lemonade to quench her devouring thirst. Tom, the waiter, who answered the call, was a stupid person, and faltered sheepishly that his master had ordered him to serve nothing. "Whereupon. Mr Belworth walked downstairs. He was a tall, resolute man, not accustomed to be trifled with. " Will you give 'me some lemons and a sugarbasin ?" he demanded quietly. . . " Sir, you want to be the ruin of me," exclaimed Joel Bound, almost sobbing. "If you were a gentlemau, you wouldn't illuse me in this way. I'm not bound to serve you." " You are bound by your licence to serve all well-conducted guests at lawful hours," answered the barrister, and without more ado, he enteued the bar, helped himself to two lemons out of the basket, caught up a sugar-basin, and went up stairs again, saying to the landlord as he passed, " You ought to be ashamed of yourself," But while saying this with all the severity he could throw into a voice naturally dignified, Mr Belworth felt he could not struggle all day with a malevolent landlord and landlady ; so he only waited indoors until the arrival of the nurse Dr Cooly had sent, and then he went out to call ®n this medical man in order to confer as to whether he could have his wife transferred in safety to any more hospitable abode, Joel Bound, however, had seen the nurse come in and Mr Belworth. go out ; and no sooner had the latter turned his back on the hotel than the landlord took an amazingly courageous resolution. He resolved to have Mrs Belworth packed into a fly and carried off to the hospital whilst her husband was out. Joel Bound was not a bad-hearted man in the ordinary relations of life, but the idea of seeing his house empty during the race-week was not to be endured, and to have been defied in his own house by a contemptuous guest having no bowels of mercy was additionally maddening. So he gave his orders in a tone at once hysteric and ver^ ocious. A old charwoman named Betsy, who had had the small-pox, and was not afraid of coh'tagion, was told to put on her bonnet and go = into Number Three, saying that by Mr Belworth'^ orders the patient was to be immediately wrapped up warmly in blankets, and to be conveyed to the hospital by -her, Betsy, and the nurse. -Theri Joel ran out into the stable-yard, and cried to hia flyman Jack to harness the fastest pair of horses to

the " Dowager," an old clarence that had not been out for years, but -which the landlord thought would do . well enough for the present emergency, seeing that if a regular fly were used • it would require all sorts of fumigating, and perhaps new lining, before it could be driven again. Joel's fear of small-pox was so hideous, and he" was in such a hurry to get Mrs Belworth off, that when the poor lady came downstairs half carried by the nurse and charwoman, he bustled forward himself to open the carriage door and see that she was warmly wrapped up. As to that, he atinted no blankets. The clarence was almost stuffed with them, and, to do Joel justice, he heaved an honest sigh when he beheld the feverinflamed face of the poor young wife whom he had seen but a few days before so lovely and happy with, her husband. "Drive fast, Jack," he said to the coachman ; " and mind, nurse, Mrs Belworth is to have a room to herself at the hospital and every comfort. Mr Belworth wilL follow soon." But once the fly was gone, Mr Round deemed it prudent to withdraw himself from Mr Belworth's reach, He put on his coat and hat, bolted out of the hotel, and seized upon this opportunity of going to spend the day with his mother-in-law, a farmer's wife, who lived ten ■ miles off. He did not return till midnight, and, if the truth must be told, he was then slightly disguised in gin-and-water, for he had drank rather freely to give himself valour. The more he looked back upon hia achievement the less he liked it. His wife was sitting up for him, not reproachfully, for he had told her that lie was going to see her mother, and had even brought back two geese and a cauliflower as a peace-offering ; but she was serious and perturbed by the story she had to tell him. " Oh, Joel, dear, scarcely half-an-hour after you had gone, Mr Belworth came back here with Dr Cooly ; it seems the doctor had kindly agreed to take the lady into his own house, as there was no room at the Union fit to receive her ; so when Mr Belworth heard what you had done he gave me a 100k — such a look as I'll never forget to my dying day. It gave me the shivers." " I can't help my de-ear," hiccoughed Joel, terrified. " What-sha right-hash he to bring shick pc-people to my houshe ? The ' Buck , aint'sha-snort-o' 'ospital for all comersh !" " You've had a drop too much, Joel," observed his wife, parenthetically ; " but it don't often happen to you, so that's not here nor there. Well, when Mr Belworth had given me that awful look, he ordej ed a horse to be saddled, and galloped off to the hospital as hard as he could go, though it was pouring wet, and not fit weather to put a dog out in. But there's worse to come ; for two hours afterwards Jack comes back with the three horses — Mr Belworth's and the carriage pair — and says he to me, ' Missus,' says he, quite dogged like, ' the old " Dowager " went regularly to bits half-way up Haverley-hill, and rolled us all into the ditch ; you'll have to send a cart to fetch her home,' says he. ' And the lady, Jack ?' says I, for, Joel, I'd turned white as a ghost. ' Well, the lady, missus, she got into the ditch, too,' said Jack. ' Her husband rode up just as we was pulling her out, and we all helped to carry her up the hill to the hospital ; but I'm. afeard she was soaking wet when she got there. That's what Jack said," concluded Mrs Eound, looking with an anxious face at her husband, who could only stare at her besottedly ; " and I hope no harm will come of it, Joel, for we should be in a bad way if mischief happened." " I can't help it, washn't my fault," maundered Joel, still hiccoughing. " Have you fum — fumigated the rooms upstairs as I told yer ?" " Lor', yes ; we burnt vinegar and charcoal . there, and kept all the windows open till evening, so Lord and Lady Trotham can go in there without danger. But now, Joel, the best place for you is bed. Come along, and I'll help you up." The next day Joel Eound had a bad headache from his gin and water, and was nervous, fearing that Mr Belworth might appear and treat him to some kind words; but in the course of the morning a hospital servant came with a cart to remove Mr Belworth's luggage and pay his bill, saying that this gentleman's wife had been admitted to a private room at the hospital, and that her husband was lodging at a cottage hard by. Then Joel had peace, for the servant brought no bad news about Mrs Belworth. After this a few more days elapsed. The races began ; and the Buck Hotel was full — over-full. If ever had Joel done such a roaring trade ; and, being busy from morning to night, he forgot to think about the Belworths. It was on the second day of the race 9, and Lord Trotham's drag stood at the door, waiting to convey his lordship's party to the course. Lord Trotham had just come down, and was lounging over the bar, selecting some cigars out of Bound's choicest boxes, when there stalked in a gentleman who, to the landlord's horrified senses, looked like a ghost — the ghost of Mr Belworth, all in black, and with a deep band round his hat. Joel felt ready to faint, when, with an air of pleased surprise, Lord Trotham turned, and accosted the barrister, " Hullo, Belworth, you here ? I thought you were in the moon — honeymoon. I've got to congratulate you." " I was married, and my poor wife is dead," said Mr Belworth, in a heart-broken voice ; then, with an implacable look, he pointed to Joel : "It was that ruffian who killed her. Would you believe what he did ?" And to a throng of the " Buck's " best customers Mr Belworth told the story of how his wife had been turned out of the hotel in a broken-down carriage, which had come to pieces on the hill, and had caused her to be drenched with rain. "MyG-od!" exclaimed Lord Trotham, who had been listening to the narrative with signs of the liveliest alarm ; "do you mean to say, Round, that you put Lady Trotham and me into a room where there had just been a case of small-pox ? " "My Lord, I assure you the apartment had been well fumigated," declared the miserable landlord, trembhng all over. "Fumigation to blazes," cried his lordship. "Why, my wife has got a bad headache this morning ; that's why she isn't going to the races. Perhaps she is going to be ill, too. Send for a doctor, will you, and be hanged," saying which his lordship scrambled upstairs scattering strange oaths.

, A doctor was sent for ; but the stampede of customers that took place that day from the " Buck " was fated to remain memorable in the annals of Looborough. Before evening Lady Trotham was known to have sickened of the terrible malady which had carried off Mrs Bel"worth; and, not to. prolong this painful story, when her ladyship left the hotel cured a few i weeks later, she had no more beauty to boast of. '.Meanwhile public indignation had rained upon 'Joel Round's head in cataracts. He was not listened to in his own defence. Some blamed him for one thing, some for another, and those !who least knew the rights and wrongs of his misdoings screamed the loudest. It was no use contending against such a downpour. The man's character was gone, his hotel was tabooed, and before long he betook himself with resignation to the Bankruptcy Court. But even to this day (he has become a restaurant .waiter, and his wife has gone into service again), ,he persists in asking this question, which may interest other hotelkeepers : "What the dickins ought I to have done ? , If the thing was to 'happen to me again I shouldn't know how to act better."