CHAPTER XIII

THE MATCH OF FALLOW FIELD AGAINST BECKLEY

The dramatic proportions to which ale will exalt the sentiments within us, and our delivery of them, are apt to dwindle and shrink even below the natural elevation when we look back on them from the hither shore of the river of sleep—­in other words, wake in the morning:  and it was with no very self-satisfied emotions that Evan, dressing by the full light of day, reviewed his share in the events of the preceding night.  Why, since he had accepted his fate, should he pretend to judge the conduct of people his superiors in rank?  And where was the necessity for him to thrust the fact of his being that abhorred social pariah down the throats of an assembly of worthy good fellows?  The answer was, that he had not accepted his fate:  that he considered himself as good a gentleman as any man living, and was in absolute hostility with the prejudices of society.  That was the state of the case:  but the evaporation of ale in his brain caused him to view his actions from the humble extreme of that delightful liquor, of which the spirit had flown and the corpse remained.

Having revived his system with soda-water, and finding no sign of his antagonist below, Mr. Raikes, to disperse the sceptical dimples on his friend’s face, alluded during breakfast to a determination he had formed to go forth and show on the cricket-field.

‘For, you know,’ he observed, ’they can’t have any objection to fight one.’

Evan, slightly colouring, answered:  ’Why, you said up-stairs, you thought fighting duels disgraceful folly.’

‘So it is, so it is; everybody knows that,’ returned Jack; ’but what can a gentleman do?’

‘Be a disgraceful fool, I suppose,’ said Evan:  and Raikes went on with his breakfast, as if to be such occasionally was the distinguished fate of a gentleman, of which others, not so happy in their birth, might well be envious.

He could not help betraying that he bore in mind the main incidents of the festival over-night; for when he had inquired who it might be that had reduced his friend to wear mourning, and heard that it was his father (spoken by Evan with a quiet sigh), Mr. Raikes tapped an egg, and his flexible brows exhibited a whole Bar of contending arguments within.  More than for the love of pleasure, he had spent his money to be taken for a gentleman.  He naturally thought highly of the position, having bought it.  But Raikes appreciated a capital fellow, and felt warmly to Evan, who, moreover, was feeding him.

If not born a gentleman, this Harrington had the look of one, and was pleasing in female eyes, as the landlady, now present, bore witness, wishing them good morning, and hoping they had slept well.  She handed to Evan his purse, telling him she had taken it last night, thinking it safer for the time being in her pocket; and that the chairman of the feast paid for all in the Green Dragon up to twelve that day, he having been born between the hours, and liking to make certain:  and that every year he did the same; and was a seemingly rough old gentleman, but as soft-hearted as a chicken.  His name must positively not be inquired, she said; to be thankful to him was to depart, asking no questions.