Little Lord Fauntleroy/Source/XIII
XIII
OF course, as soon as the story of Lord Fauntleroy and the difficulties
of the Earl of Dorincourt were discussed in the English newspapers, they
were discussed in the American newspapers. The story was too interesting
to be passed over lightly, and it was talked of a great deal. There were
so many versions of it that it would have been an edifying thing to buy
all the papers and compare them. Mr. Hobbs read so much about it that he
became quite bewildered. One paper described his young friend Cedric as
an infant in arms,--another as a young man at Oxford, winning all the
honors, and distinguishing himself by writing Greek poems; one said he
was engaged to a young lady of great beauty, who was the daughter of a
duke; another said he had just been married; the only thing, in fact,
which was NOT said was that he was a little boy between seven and eight,
with handsome legs and curly hair. One said he was no relation to
the Earl of Dorincourt at all, but was a small impostor who had sold
newspapers and slept in the streets of New York before his mother
imposed upon the family lawyer, who came to America to look for the
Earl's heir. Then came the descriptions of the new Lord Fauntleroy and
his mother. Sometimes she was a gypsy, sometimes an actress, sometimes a
beautiful Spaniard; but it was always agreed that the Earl of Dorincourt
was her deadly enemy, and would not acknowledge her son as his heir
if he could help it, and as there seemed to be some slight flaw in the
papers she had produced, it was expected that there would be a long
trial, which would be far more interesting than anything ever carried
into court before. Mr. Hobbs used to read the papers until his head was
in a whirl, and in the evening he and Dick would talk it all over. They
found out what an important personage an Earl of Dorincourt was, and
what a magnificent income he possessed, and how many estates he owned,
and how stately and beautiful was the Castle in which he lived; and the
more they learned, the more excited they became.
"Seems like somethin' orter be done," said Mr. Hobbs. "Things like them
orter be held on to--earls or no earls."
But there really was nothing they could do but each write a letter to
Cedric, containing assurances of their friendship and sympathy. They
wrote those letters as soon as they could after receiving the news; and
after having written them, they handed them over to each other to be
read.
This is what Mr. Hobbs read in Dick's letter:
"DERE FREND: i got ure letter an Mr. Hobbs got his an we are sory u are
down on ure luck an we say hold on as longs u kin an dont let no one git
ahed of u. There is a lot of ole theves wil make al they kin of u ef u
dont kepe ure i skined. But this is mosly to say that ive not forgot
wot u did fur me an if there aint no better way cum over here an go in
pardners with me. Biznes is fine an ile see no harm cums to u Enny
big feler that trise to cum it over u wil hafter setle it fust with
Perfessor Dick Tipton. So no more at present
"DICK."
And this was what Dick read in Mr. Hobbs's letter:
"DEAR SIR: Yrs received and wd say things looks bad. I believe its a put
up job and them thats done it ought to be looked after sharp. And what
I write to say is two things. Im going to look this thing up. Keep quiet
and Ill see a lawyer and do all I can And if the worst happens and them
earls is too many for us theres a partnership in the grocery business
ready for you when yure old enough and a home and a friend in
"Yrs truly,
"SILAS HOBBS."
"Well," said Mr. Hobbs, "he's pervided for between us, if he aint a
earl."
"So he is," said Dick. "I'd ha' stood by him. Blest if I didn't like
that little feller fust-rate."
The very next morning, one of Dick's customers was rather surprised.
He was a young lawyer just beginning practice--as poor as a very young
lawyer can possibly be, but a bright, energetic young fellow, with sharp
wit and a good temper. He had a shabby office near Dick's stand, and
every morning Dick blacked his boots for him, and quite often they were
not exactly water-tight, but he always had a friendly word or a joke for
Dick.
That particular morning, when he put his foot on the rest, he had an
illustrated paper in his hand--an enterprising paper, with pictures in
it of conspicuous people and things. He had just finished looking it
over, and when the last boot was polished, he handed it over to the boy.
"Here's a paper for you, Dick," he said; "you can look it over when you
drop in at Delmonico's for your breakfast. Picture of an English
castle in it, and an English earl's daughter-in-law. Fine young woman,
too,--lots of hair,--though she seems to be raising rather a row. You
ought to become familiar with the nobility and gentry, Dick. Begin on
the Right Honorable the Earl of Dorincourt and Lady Fauntleroy. Hello! I
say, what's the matter?"
The pictures he spoke of were on the front page, and Dick was staring at
one of them with his eyes and mouth open, and his sharp face almost pale
with excitement.
"What's to pay, Dick?" said the young man. "What has paralyzed you?"
Dick really did look as if something tremendous had happened. He pointed
to the picture, under which was written:
"Mother of Claimant (Lady Fauntleroy)."
It was the picture of a handsome woman, with large eyes and heavy braids
of black hair wound around her head.
"Her!" said Dick. "My, I know her better 'n I know you!"
The young man began to laugh.
"Where did you meet her, Dick?" he said. "At Newport? Or when you ran
over to Paris the last time?"
Dick actually forgot to grin. He began to gather his brushes and things
together, as if he had something to do which would put an end to his
business for the present.
"Never mind," he said. "I know her! An I've struck work for this
mornin'."
And in less than five minutes from that time he was tearing through the
streets on his way to Mr. Hobbs and the corner store.
Mr. Hobbs could scarcely believe the evidence of his senses when he
looked across the counter and saw Dick rush in with the paper in his
hand. The boy was out of breath with running; so much out of breath,
in fact, that he could scarcely speak as he threw the paper down on the
counter.
"Hello!" exclaimed Mr. Hobbs. "Hello! What you got there?"
"Look at it!" panted Dick. "Look at that woman in the picture! That's
what you look at! SHE aint no 'ristocrat, SHE aint!" with withering
scorn. "She's no lord's wife. You may eat me, if it aint Minna--MINNA!
I'd know her anywheres, an' so 'd Ben. Jest ax him."
Mr. Hobbs dropped into his seat.
"I knowed it was a put-up job," he said. "I knowed it; and they done it
on account o' him bein' a 'Merican!"
"Done it!" cried Dick, with disgust. "SHE done it, that's who done it.
She was allers up to her tricks; an' I'll tell yer wot come to me,
the minnit I saw her pictur. There was one o' them papers we saw had
a letter in it that said somethin' 'bout her boy, an' it said he had a
scar on his chin. Put them two together--her 'n' that there scar!
Why, that there boy o' hers aint no more a lord than I am! It's BEN'S
boy,--the little chap she hit when she let fly that plate at me."
Professor Dick Tipton had always been a sharp boy, and earning his
living in the streets of a big city had made him still sharper. He had
learned to keep his eyes open and his wits about him, and it must be
confessed he enjoyed immensely the excitement and impatience of that
moment. If little Lord Fauntleroy could only have looked into the store
that morning, he would certainly have been interested, even if all the
discussion and plans had been intended to decide the fate of some other
boy than himself.
Mr. Hobbs was almost overwhelmed by his sense of responsibility, and
Dick was all alive and full of energy. He began to write a letter to
Ben, and he cut out the picture and inclosed it to him, and Mr. Hobbs
wrote a letter to Cedric and one to the Earl. They were in the midst of
this letter-writing when a new idea came to Dick.
"Say," he said, "the feller that give me the paper, he's a lawyer. Let's
ax him what we'd better do. Lawyers knows it all."
Mr. Hobbs was immensely impressed by this suggestion and Dick's business
capacity.
"That's so!" he replied. "This here calls for lawyers."
And leaving the store in the care of a substitute, he struggled into his
coat and marched down-town with Dick, and the two presented themselves
with their romantic story in Mr. Harrison's office, much to that young
man's astonishment.
If he had not been a very young lawyer, with a very enterprising mind
and a great deal of spare time on his hands, he might not have been so
readily interested in what they had to say, for it all certainly sounded
very wild and queer; but he chanced to want something to do very much,
and he chanced to know Dick, and Dick chanced to say his say in a very
sharp, telling sort of way.
"And," said Mr. Hobbs, "say what your time's worth a' hour and look into
this thing thorough, and I'LL pay the damage,--Silas Hobbs, corner of
Blank street, Vegetables and Fancy Groceries."
"Well," said Mr. Harrison, "it will be a big thing if it turns out
all right, and it will be almost as big a thing for me as for Lord
Fauntleroy; and, at any rate, no harm can be done by investigating.
It appears there has been some dubiousness about the child. The woman
contradicted herself in some of her statements about his age, and
aroused suspicion. The first persons to be written to are Dick's brother
and the Earl of Dorincourt's family lawyer."
And actually, before the sun went down, two letters had been written and
sent in two different directions--one speeding out of New York harbor on
a mail steamer on its way to England, and the other on a train carrying
letters and passengers bound for California. And the first was addressed
to T. Havisham, Esq., and the second to Benjamin Tipton.
And after the store was closed that evening, Mr. Hobbs and Dick sat in
the back-room and talked together until midnight.