Varney the Vampyre 100The Wedding Feast.—the Admiral’s Disappointment
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Literature · Horror
Varney the Vampyre 100
The Wedding Feast.—the Admiral’s Disappointment
RymerEnglish
And now the day arrived, at length, when Charles Holland was to call Flora Bannerworth his bride.
On this most auspicious event, as may be well imagined, the admiral was in his glory, and he declared his intention of dancing, if any very handsome young lady should ask him to be her partner at the ball, but not otherwise; for it had been agreed to have a ball in the evening.
Jack Pringle, too, was restored completely to favour upon the occasion; indeed, as far as the admiral was concerned, he seemed to have granted a general amnesty to all offenders, because he was heard to say,—
“Well, I really should not mind if any poor devil of a Frenchman was to come; he should know that good eating and drinking was for once in his life; or even that vagabond, old Varney, the vampyre. What a fool he was to take himself off before the wedding, to be sure.”
Henry Bannerworth had undertaken to take off the old man’s hand all the trouble connected with the actual ceremony. That is to say, letting the clergyman know, and so on; therefore he, the admiral, had nothing at all upon his mind but the festivities that were to be gone into upon the occasion.
The numerous guests recommended by the lawyer were invited to a breakfast, which was to be at one o’clock; while a favoured few, which, together with the family party, made up, altogether, about eighteen persons, were to come to the wedding itself, and to be actually present at the ceremony.
The admiral was rather annoyed at Jack Pringle, about ten o’clock, looking very anxiously at the sky, and shaking his head in a manner which seemed to indicate that he had something of importance on his mind.
“What the deuce is in the wind, now?” said the admiral. “You are always looking for foul weather, you are, and be hanged you!”
“Oh!” said Jack, “I was only a considering what they calls the blessed aspect of the sky, and it seems to me there is a sort of kind of look about things as says that there won’t be no marriage at all to-day.”
“No marriage!”
“No, not a bit of it; I’m tolerably sure there won’t. I was a going on one of my numerous occasions to be married, and there was just that there kind of look in the sky, and I wasn’t.”
“What kind of look, you lubber? I rather think, after living afloat a matter of forty years and more, I ought to know the looks of the sky rather, and I don’t see any thing unusual in it.”
“Don’t you? Then I does; and there won’t be no marriage.”
“Why you infernal croaking swab, you are drunk or out of your senses, one of the two. I would bet my head to a bottle of rum, that there will be a marriage.”
“I don’t mind,” said Jack, “betting one bottle to twenty that there won’t.”
“Done, then—done; and, Jack, for once in a way, you will find yourself regularly done, I can tell you. I know you have got some crotchet or another in your head, by which you think you will get the better of the old man; but it won’t do; for I won’t stand any quibbling or lawyer-like sneaking out of it.”
“Oh! I won’t sneak out of it, you shall see. It shall be all plain sailing and above board, I can tell you, admiral.”
The old man rather puzzled himself to think what Jack could mean; but after a time he gave it up, and forgot it; for his mind began to be too actively engaged upon what was going on to pay much attention to what he considered was some joke of Jack’s, which would turn out to be a mere quibble of words after all.
The admiral was right when he said there was no appearance of anything in the weather to indicate that any stop would be put to the festivity on that account; for a more pleasant, and a more genial, delightful day for the occasion never shone out of the heavens.
Indeed, if anything could have been considered as a gratifying omen of the future felicity which Charles Holland was likely to enjoy in the society of Flora Bannerworth, it was the aspect of that day—a day so replete with beauties that, had it been picked out specially for that occasion, it could not have been more gratifying or delightful.
The house was a large and a handsome one which the admiral had taken, and, since, of course, he considered it to be his own, he was from an early hour in the morning in a perpetual fidget, and here, and there, and everywhere, for the purpose of seeing that all the arrangements were complete for the day’s proceedings.
As may be well supposed, he was a great hindrance to everybody, and most especially the servants, whom he had temporarily engaged, wished him at the very devil for his interference.
But, however, notwithstanding all these drawbacks, by ten o’clock everything was in a tolerable state of readiness; and then the admiral vociferously congratulated the first of the guests who arrived, for that was a great merit in the old man’s eyes, and, although he did not know the person a bit, he almost terrified him by the cordiality of his greeting.
“That’s right,” he said; “take old Time by the forelock, and always be too soon instead of too late. I’ll tell you some capital stories some of these days about the advantage of being a little too soon—But, hilloa! here comes somebody else. Egad! we shall have them all here soon. Here, Jack Pringle! where are you?”
“Here!” cried Jack; “hard on to your larboard bow.”
“Pipe all hands among the flunkies!”
“Aye, aye, sir,” said Jack.
Producing then a boatswain’s whistle, he blew a shrill call, which pleased the admiral, for, as he said, that was the proper way to begin anything like an entertainment.
People know they must be punctual at weddings, and generally are tolerably so, with the exception of those persons who are never punctual at anything; so that, in a short time, nearly the whole of those who had been invited to be present at the ceremony had arrived, and the hour was fast getting on towards that when the marriage was to take place.
The admiral would have been blind, indeed, if he had not perceived that there was a great deal of whispering going on among the Bannerworth family, and he got rather indignant and a little uneasy to know what it could all be about; but, most of all, he began to be annoyed at Jack Pringle, for that individual’s conduct was certainly of a peculiar and extraordinary character.
Every now and then he would burst out into such an amazing roar of laughter, apparently at nothing, that it became seriously annoying to the old man; and, finally, taking up a pair of nut-crackers that were upon the table, he gave Jack a hard rap upon the top of the head, as he said,—
“Are you out of your senses? what are you going on about?”
“Oh, nothing,” said Jack; “I was only a thinking. Don’t you recollect our wager?”
“Yes, I do; you have laid me one bottle of rum to twenty that Charles and Flora won’t be married to-day.”
“Very good,” said Jack, “that’s quite correct, and mind, I hold you to it.”
“Hold me to it—I’ll hold you to it. I know well enough it’s some stupid joke you have got hold of.”
“Very good,” said Jack; “we shall see.”
The time crept on, and half-past eleven o’clock came, and the guests were assembled in the drawing-room, where, by a special licence, the ceremony was to have been performed; and on the mantle-shelf of which there was a time-piece, indicating the rapid arrival of the hour named for the ceremony.
“You know, Henry,” said the admiral, “I left everything to you. I hope it’s all correct, now, and that you have not made any blunders.”
“None whatever, I assure you, admiral. I have arranged everything; but Flora has just told me that she wants to speak to you.”
“Speak to me! then why the deuce doesn’t she speak? I suppose she can speak to me without asking your leave?”
“Admiral,” said Flora, “I am extremely anxious to ask you if you will forgive me for something which may possibly annoy you a little, and which certainly I feel myself answerable for.”
“What is it?”
“You must promise to forgive me first.”
“Well, well, of course—of course I do; what is it?”
“Then, I must say, I would rather not be married to-day.”
“What!” cried the admiral.
“I told you so,” shouted Jack. “I saw it in the look of the clouds this morning. I never knew anybody get married when there was a light breeze blowing from the nor’-east.”
“You be quiet,” said the admiral; “I’ll be the death of you, presently. What is the meaning of this, Flora? Is it not rather a cruel jest to say such a thing to me now?”
“It is no jest, sir, but a fact; I must beg to be excused.”
“And I, uncle,” said Charles Holland, advancing, “am of the same mind; and I join with Flora in begging that you will look over the little disappointment this may occasion you.”
“Little disappointment!” cried the admiral; “am I awake—am I out of my senses? Jack, you rascal, where am I?”
“Can’t say,” cried Jack; “but I think as how you are abut two points to the south’ard.”
“Flora, speak again. You do not, cannot mean to tell me that any foolish quarrel has interfered to prevent this union, upon which I have set my heart? If you are not jesting, there must be some very special reason for this alteration of intention.”
“There is,” said Flora, as she looked the old man kindly in the face; “there is a very special reason, sir, and one which I will mention to you at once; a reason which makes it next to impossible that the ceremony should proceed. The real fact is——”
“Well, go on—go on.”
“That Charles and I were married a fortnight ago.”
“D—n me,” said the admiral, “if ever I was so taken in my life. A fortnight ago! shiver my timbers——”
“Go on, old pepper-castor,” said Jack; “only remember you owe me twenty bottles of rum.”
“I won’t look over it,” said the admiral; “I won’t and I can’t; it’s treating me ill, Flora—I tell you, it is treating me ill.”
“But you know you have looked over it, admiral,” said Flora, “and I have your positive promise to forgive me.”
“Besides,” said Jack, “she won’t do so no more; and, as far as I sees of these ere things, it’s a deuced good thing as we ain’t bothered with any parson coming here this morning, casting up his eyes like a dying dolphin if one outs with so much as a natural d—n or two. I can’t stand such rubbish, not I; and its my out and out opinion that we shall be all the merrier; and as for the old man——”
Jack’s oratory was put a stop to by the admiral seizing a piece of confectionery that was upon the table, and throwing it with such a dab in his face that he was half choked and covered with currant jam; and he made such a spluttering that the guests could keep their countenances no longer, but burst into a roar of laughter consequent upon that proceeding.
“And you, too, Henry,” said the admiral, “I suppose you were in the plot?”
“Why yes,” said Henry, “I rather think I was. The fact is, that Flora disliked the public marriage, although she looked forward with pleasure to the meeting with this pleasant party on the present occasion; so, among us, we all cast about for some means for securing the agreeable without the disagreeable, and so, a fortnight ago, they were married quietly and privately, and I plead guilty.”
“I thought as much,” said the admiral, “I’ll be hanged if I didn’t; but now just answer me one question, Charles.”
“A hundred, if you please, uncle.”
“No, one will suffice. I want to know whether you were married in the name of Bell, or in the name of Holland?”
“I took legal advice, uncle, as to the validity of my marriage in the name of Bell; and as I found that a man’s marriage was quite legal, let him call himself whatever he pleases, and as I knew that it was your wish I should take the name of Bell, I was married in that name, and Flora now calls herself Mrs. Bell.”
“Then I’ll say no more about it,” said the admiral, “but let it pass so—let’s be as merry as possible; and first of all, we will have a bumper all round to the bride.”
This affair, upon which Charles really had had some misgivings, being thus agreeably settled, there was certainly nothing to interfere with the hilarity of the meeting, and as there was an abundance of good cheer, and the guests had been selected judiciously, and were persons who could and would enjoy themselves, an extremely pleasant day was passed.
For about an hour, perhaps, only, the admiral now and then exhibited some symptoms of indignation, and shook his head occasionally at Flora; but a smile from her soon restored him, and he did actually contrive to get through a quadrille in some extraordinary manner, by almost knocking every lady down, and ending by falling sprawling himself.
The only great interruption—and that lasted for nearly half an hour—to the proceedings arose from that incorrigible Jack Pringle, who, as usual, did not get a glass too much, but a whole bottle too much; and then an obscure idea seized him that it was absolutely impossible for him to avoid kissing all the ladies, as it was a wedding, or ought to have been a wedding.
Blaming himself, therefore, very much for not having thought of it before, he made a wild rush into the drawing-room, and commenced operations.
A scene of confusion ensued which quite baffles description, and Jack had to be carried out at last by main force, thinking himself a very ill-used person, when he was only doing what was right and proper.
The admiral apologised to the ladies for Jack, calling their attention to the fact that he wasn’t such a fool as he looked, and that, after all, it wasn’t a bad notion of Jack’s, only that he had not set about it in the right way.
“Howsomedever,” said the admiral, “I don’t mind showing you how he ought to have done it.”
This, however, was universally declined, and that with so much decision, too, that the admiral was forced to forego the generous intention; but long before the parties separated for the night, he admitted that it was just as well the marriage business had been all settled before; and it was shrewdly suspected that, from the fact of the admiral singing “Rule Britannia,” after he had gone to bed, he had just slightly exceeded the bounds of that moderation which he was always preaching to Jack.
