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Updated: May 13, 2025
Brayder returned the nod, and those who promenaded the district soon beheld his body in elegant motion to the stepping of his well-earned horse. "What do you want to see Lord Mountfalcon for, Richard?" said Ripton. "I just want to see him," Richard replied. Ripton was left in the cab at the door of my lord's residence.
Richard! my word of honour, they have planned to carry her off, if Mount finds he cannot seduce her. Talk of devils! He's one; but he is not so bad as Brayder. I cannot forgive a mean dog his villany. "Now after this, I am quite sure you are too much of a man to stop away from her another moment. I have no more to say. I suppose we shall not see each other again, so good-bye, Dick!
"You're evidently graduating for a midwife, Mount." The nobleman appeared silently to accept the imputation. "What do they say in town?" he asked again. Brayder said the sole question was, whether it was maid, wife, or widow. "I'll go to her this evening," Mountfalcon resumed, after to judge by the cast of his face reflecting deeply. "I'll go to her this evening.
"The rule of contrary," said Brayder, carelessly. "She must see the trahison with her eyes. They believe their eyes. There's your chance, Mount. You step in: you give her revenge and consolation two birds at one shot. That's what they like." "You're an ass, Brayder," the nobleman exclaimed. "You're an infernal blackguard. You talk of this little woman as if she and other women were all of a piece.
He ventured to remark that they were going the wrong way. "It'd the right way," cried Richard, and his jaws were hard and square, and his eyes looked heavy and full. Ripton said no more, but thought. The cabman pulled up at a Club. A gentleman, in whom Ripton recognized the Hon. Peter Brayder, was just then swinging a leg over his horse, with one foot in the stirrup.
At this juncture the voice of a cavalier in the Row hailed them, proving to be the Honourable Peter Brayder, Lord Mountfalcon's parasite. He greeted them very cordially; and Richard, remembering some fun they had in the Island, asked him to dine with them; postponing his return till the next day. Lucy was his. It was even sweet to dally with the delight of seeing her. The Hon.
Their ideas seem to have a special relationship in the peculiarity of stopping where they have begun. Young Tom Blaize with vantage would be Lord Mountfalcon. Even in the character of their parasites I see a resemblance, though I am bound to confess that the Hon. Peter Brayder, who is my lord's parasite, is by no means noxious. "This sounds dreadfully democrat. Pray, don't be alarmed.
"He ought to know it by this time, if fame speaks true," remarked Adrian. "He's a baby about women, and always will be," said Brayder. "He's been once or twice wanting to marry them. Now there's a woman you've heard of Mrs. Mount? All the world knows her. If that woman hadn't scandalized." The young man joined them, and checked the communication.
After the wine this gentleman took his cigar on the balcony, and found occasion to get some conversation with Adrian alone. "Our young friend here made it all right with the governor?" he asked carelessly. "Oh yes!" said Adrian. But it struck him that Brayder might be of assistance in showing Richard a little of the `society in every form' required by his chief's prescript.
Brayder followed the curvings of the whiff of his cigar with his eyes, and ejaculated, "Infernally philosophic!" "Has Lord Mountfalcon left the island?" Adrian inquired. "Mount? to tell the truth I don't know where he is. Chasing some light craft, I suppose. That's poor Mount's weakness. It's his ruin, poor fellow! He's so confoundedly in earnest at the game."
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