Vanity Fair - Page 60/573

Presently, seeing two little boys gathering sticks in the wood, Mr.

Hodson jumped out of the carriage, at Sir Pitt's order, and rushed upon

them with his whip. "Pitch into 'em, Hodson," roared the baronet;

"flog their little souls out, and bring 'em up to the house, the

vagabonds; I'll commit 'em as sure as my name's Pitt." And presently we

heard Mr. Hodson's whip cracking on the shoulders of the poor little

blubbering wretches, and Sir Pitt, seeing that the malefactors were in

custody, drove on to the hall.

All the servants were ready to meet us, and . . .

Here, my dear, I was interrupted last night by a dreadful thumping at

my door: and who do you think it was? Sir Pitt Crawley in his night-cap

and dressing-gown, such a figure! As I shrank away from such a visitor,

he came forward and seized my candle. "No candles after eleven

o'clock, Miss Becky," said he. "Go to bed in the dark, you pretty

little hussy" (that is what he called me), "and unless you wish me to

come for the candle every night, mind and be in bed at eleven." And

with this, he and Mr. Horrocks the butler went off laughing. You may

be sure I shall not encourage any more of their visits. They let loose

two immense bloodhounds at night, which all last night were yelling and

howling at the moon. "I call the dog Gorer," said Sir Pitt; "he's

killed a man that dog has, and is master of a bull, and the mother I

used to call Flora; but now I calls her Aroarer, for she's too old to

bite. Haw, haw!"

Before the house of Queen's Crawley, which is an odious old-fashioned

red brick mansion, with tall chimneys and gables of the style of Queen

Bess, there is a terrace flanked by the family dove and serpent, and on

which the great hall-door opens. And oh, my dear, the great hall I am

sure is as big and as glum as the great hall in the dear castle of

Udolpho. It has a large fireplace, in which we might put half Miss

Pinkerton's school, and the grate is big enough to roast an ox at the

very least. Round the room hang I don't know how many generations of

Crawleys, some with beards and ruffs, some with huge wigs and toes

turned out, some dressed in long straight stays and gowns that look as

stiff as towers, and some with long ringlets, and oh, my dear! scarcely

any stays at all. At one end of the hall is the great staircase all in

black oak, as dismal as may be, and on either side are tall doors with

stags' heads over them, leading to the billiard-room and the library,

and the great yellow saloon and the morning-rooms. I think there are

at least twenty bedrooms on the first floor; one of them has the bed in

which Queen Elizabeth slept; and I have been taken by my new pupils

through all these fine apartments this morning. They are not rendered

less gloomy, I promise you, by having the shutters always shut; and

there is scarce one of the apartments, but when the light was let into

it, I expected to see a ghost in the room. We have a schoolroom on the

second floor, with my bedroom leading into it on one side, and that of

the young ladies on the other. Then there are Mr. Pitt's

apartments--Mr. Crawley, he is called--the eldest son, and Mr. Rawdon

Crawley's rooms--he is an officer like SOMEBODY, and away with his

regiment. There is no want of room I assure you. You might lodge all

the people in Russell Square in the house, I think, and have space to

spare.