Thereby Hangs a Tale. Volume One. Fenn George Manville

say,” said Miss Matilda, sharply, “is this – ”

      “Yelp! yelp! yelp!” – a succession of wild shrieks from beneath the antimacassar, out of one side of which lay a thin black tail, in very close proximity to Fin’s pretty little foot, and in an instant Aunt Matty was down upon her knees, talking to and caressing the dog.

      “Er-rum!” went Sir Hampton, slowly crossing the hall to his library, followed by Lady Rea; and directly after Miss Matilda hurried away, with her pet in her arms.

      “Now, Fin, that was cruel. I saw you tread on Pip’s tail,” said Tiny.

      “Doing evil that good might come,” said Fin, defiantly. “Look here, Tiny – pets were anciently offered up to save a row. If I hadn’t made him squeal, there would have been pa storming, Aunt Matty going into hysterics, and ma worried to death; so that it was like the old nursery rhyme – ”

      “I trod sharp on the little dog’s tail;

      The dog began to shriek and wail,

      And poor Aunty Matty turned mighty pale:

      It stopped papa from blowing a gale;

      And that’s the end of my little tale.”

      “Er-rum!” was heard from across the hall.

      “There’s daddy going to lecture me; and look here, Tiny, Edward will come in directly to clear the cloth. Now, then, here’s a penny; let’s toss. Heads or tails, who wins.”

      “Wins what?”

      “Mr Richard Trevor, and Penreife. Now then, cry!”

      “No,” said Tiny, “I’ll laugh instead.”

      And she kissed her sister on the cheek.

      In Pall Mall

      “Voilà! – the pilot-fish and the shark!”

      The words were spoken by an individual idly smoking a cigar on the steps of that gloomy-looking pile in Pall Mall known as the Peripatetics. He was the being that, go where he would, uneducated people would set down as belonging to the division Swell; for there was ton and aristocrat in the fit of his clothes and every curve of his body. Women would have called his black moustache and beard handsome, and spoken of his piercing eyes, high white forehead, and wonderful complexion; but Podger Pratt – that is to say, Frank Pratt – said more than once he had never seen a barber’s dummy that was his equal. He said it in a very solemn way; and when it came to the ears of the gentleman in question, he denounced Podger Pratt as a disgusting little cad, and the next time they met at the club Captain Vanleigh asked Pratt what he meant by it.

      “What did I mean?” said Pratt, in a serious, puzzled tone of voice. “What did I mean? – oh, just what I said. It’s a fact.”

      Captain Vanleigh stood glaring at him as if trying to pierce the imperturbable crust of solemnity on the speaker’s face; but Pratt remained as solemn as a judge, and amidst an ill-suppressed tittering, the Captain stalked from the room, saying to his companion —

      “The fellow’s a fool – an ass – little better than an idiot!”

      As for Podger Pratt, he looked innocently round the room as if asking the meaning of the laugh, and then went on with his paper.

      But that was months before the present day, when Captain Vanleigh, gracefully removing his cigar from between his white teeth, said —

      “Voilà! the pilot-fish and the shark!”

      “The sucking-fish and the porpoise, I should say,” remarked his companion, a fair young fellow, dressed evidently upon the other’s model. “What big fellow Dick Trevor has grown!”

      “You’re right, Flick; sucking-fish it is. That fat, little, briefless barrister will fatten still more on Dick Trevor’s chequebook. Ah, well, Flicky, it is a wise ordination of Providence that those men who have the largest properties are the biggest fools.”

      “Ya-as, exactly,” said Flick, otherwise Sir Felix Landells. “I daresay you’re right, Van; but don’t quite see your argument. I s’pose may call ’self a wealthy man?”

      “No rule without an exception, my dear boy; you are one of the exceptions. Odd, though, isn’t it, how we have all been thrown together after four years?”

      “Yes, ’tis odd; but think it’s dooced nice of Dick to look us up as he has. You’ll make one of the party, of course?”

      “Well, I don’t know. Certainly, town is empty. These sailor fellows are rather rough, though.”

      “Oh, come down. Besides, it’s in the country.”

      “Such an infernal distance! – but there, perhaps I will.”

      As they stood talking, there came slowly sauntering along the pave a well-built young fellow, broad of shoulder and chest, and fining rapidly down to the loins. He seemed to convey the idea that he was rolling up to you on the deck of a ship with a sea on, and he carried his hands as if it might be necessary at any moment to throw them out to seize belaying pin or handrail. He was well dressed; but there was a certain easy freedom in the fit of his garments, and a loose swing pervading all, much in contrast with the natty, fashionable attire of the friends, whom he saluted with a pleasant smile lighting up his bronzed face and clear grey eyes. His hair was crisp, curly, and brown, seeming rather at war with the glossy new hat he wore, and settled more than once upon his head as he listened to the remarks of the little dapper-looking man at his side – Podger, otherwise Frank, Pratt, of the Temple.

      Pratt was a solemn, neutral-looking fellow; but none the less he was keen and peculiar, even though, to use his own words, he had been born without any looks at all.

      “There’s the wolf, Dick,” said Pratt, as they approached the club. “Who’s that with him? Ah, might have known – the lamb.”

      “You seem to have kept up the old school tricks, Frank,” said Trevor, “and I suppose it gets you into hot water sometimes. Bad habit giving nicknames. We shouldn’t stand it at sea.”

      “It breaks no bones,” said the other, quietly, “and seems to do me good – safety-valve for my spleen. How odd it is, though, that we four should be thrown together again in this way!”

      “I was thinking the same; but I don’t see why we should call things odd when we have shaped them ourselves. I was cruising about for days to find you all out.”

      “Well, it’s very kind of you, Dick,” said Pratt. “And let me see – I’ve won four pounds ten and six of you during the last week at pool and whist. Dick, you’re quite a godsend to a poor fellow. Look here, new gloves – ain’t had such a pair for a month.”

      “By the way,” said Trevor, “is Vanleigh well off?”

      “He was,” said Pratt – “came in for a nice property. How he stands now I can’t say.”

      “And Landells?”

      “Landells has a clear nine thousand a year; but I’ve seen hardly anything of them lately. Poole dresses them; and how could you expect such exquisites to seek the society of a man who wears sixteen-shilling pantaloons, dines on chops, reads hard, and, when he does go to a theatre, sits in the pit? By Jove, Dick, you would have laughed one night! I did – inside, for there wasn’t a crease in my phiz. They cut me dead. I was sitting in the front row in the pit, and as luck or some mischievous imp would have it, they were placed in two stalls in the back row, exactly in front of me, so that I could inhale the ambrosial odours from Flick Landells’ fair curls the whole evening.”

      “Snobbish – wasn’t it?” said Dick.

      “Just half,” said Pratt. “Landells is a good chap at heart; but society is spoiling him. He came to my chambers the very next day, with a face like a turkey-cock, to ask me if it was I that he saw at the theatre. I looked at him out of the corner of one eye, and he broke down, and asked my pardon like a man. Swore he wouldn’t have minded a bit, if Van hadn’t been