Insurrection at Pemberley

By Elizabeth M

Part 1

From P&P, ch. 43 (V3 Ch1): "They gradually ascended for half-a-mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House..."

The Gardiner's carriage approached the house, and Elizabeth and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were soon at the doorstep. But something seemed amiss.

"The grounds are strangely quiet," observed Mr. Gardiner.

"Yes, but weren't we told that the family was away?" asked his wife.

Mr. Gardiner, not wanting to alarm the ladies, said nothing of the eerie feeling he had that caused the skin on the back of his neck to crawl, and his heart to pound as though it would burst through his chest.

"Wait here," he said to them, and to the coachman, he said, "Smythe, stay alert."

Both Smythe, and his assistant, Jones, were lethargic, slothful men at their liveliest, and would need far more than a simple command to rouse them. Mr. Gardiner sneered at them.

"Servants," he muttered under his breath. "They're all tarred with the same brush. Lazy louts." And he made his way toward the manor house.

At the door, he paused just before he knocked, for he noticed the door was slightly ajar.

"Hello!" he called. "I say, Hello! Anyone here?" Mr. Gardiner pushed open the door and walked inside. Complete silence enveloped him. Not a soul was to be seen or heard.

"What the devil? No one around? Well, when the cat's away, the mice will play. Insolent servants. The family's gone, so it looks like they're enjoying themselves at Mr. Darcy's expense. No doubt enjoying the wine cellar...and the larder..Hmmm...what's this?" On the small table in the foyer, lay a small silver cigar case with the initials "F. D." ornately engraved on the cover. Mr. Gardiner picked it up and examined it carefully, lovingly, caressing it with his fingers. "Nice piece of work, what?" He tucked it into his waistcoat pocket.

"Anyone here?" he called as he made his way to the drawing room.

Suddenly, and silently, he was surrounded by about five-and-twenty armed servants, both men and women. "I say, what's this? What the devil is going on here?" Mr. Gardiner was beginning to panic. "Smythe! Help!"

"Tie him up and gag him," ordered one of the men, who appeared to be the leader.

"My coachman will be here in an instant, and he get the authorities!"

As Mr. Gardiner was being gagged, the leader said, "Go ahead and call your coachman. Smythe, is it? He's my cousin. I'm Smythe, too, and we're the new authorities around here. This is now the Republic of Pemberley." Smythe, too, leaned his face close to Mr. Gardiner's gagged one and said, "We've been walked on and ordered around by Mr. Darcy long enough. Who does all the work around here? We do. Mr. Darcy's never done a day's work in his life. Never earned a penny he's spent. Well, it's time he learned to work. He'll work or he won't eat."

Throughout Smythe, too's, speech, the other servants could be heard to say, "Here! Here!" But at the last remark, they went wild with cheering.

"Shh! Quiet! Someone's coming." Women's voices could be heard in the foyer. "Quick! Take him to the cellar!" And Mr. Gardiner was led, bound and gagged, down the hall.

Part 2

While the feisty Mr. Gardiner was being subdued, the ladies were growing impatient.

"Men!" exclaimed Mrs. Gardiner in disgust. "They can never be trusted with the simplest tasks! Listen, Lizzy: I hear voices inside. No doubt he's forgotten all about us sitting out here, thirsty and tired in the sun. He's probably enjoying a tour of the house on his own. Hmmph. And I suppose he's found the wine cellar. C'mon, Lizzy. We'll find our own way. Smythe!" Turning to the coach, Mrs. Gardiner noticed both Smythe and Jones had quietly slipped away. "I say, where's the coachman?"

"That's funny. They were here just a minute ago," said Elizabeth. "Perhaps they were too hot to wait out here, too."

The ladies made their way to the foyer, but as they entered, they no longer heard voices. All was silent.

"Hello!" called Mrs. Gardiner. "Anyone home? Mr. Gardiner? Hello?" But there was no response. "That's funny. I thought for sure I heard voices. Of course, this house is so big, I suppose we can't hear anyone if there in a distant part of the house. Let's make our way to the drawing room. Isn't it grand, Lizzy?"

As they walked along the hallway, a frail, gentle-looking woman appeared from one of the rooms.

"Hello, ma'am," said she.

Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth were clearly startled.

"Oh, hello. I'm looking for my husband. You see, the door was open, and nobody was answering, so we...." Her voice trailed off, feebly.

"Yes, ma'am. Right this way, ma'am. I'll show you the way." The servant led them down the corridor and into the drawing room. Once in, the door slammed shut behind them.

"Good work, Mrs. Reynolds," said Smythe, too.

Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth stood speechless in front of the roomful of armed servants, with Mr. Gardiner's coachman and his assistant among them. Realizing the danger they were in, Mrs. Gardiner said, "I can get you money. My husband can get you a lot of money. Just let us go."

"Your husband isn't in a position to get us anything," said Smythe, too.

"Oh! What have you done with him?" wailed Mrs. Gardiner.

"Let's just say he's tied up at the moment."

Mrs. Gardiner began sobbing and wailing inconsolably.

"What do you want?" asked Elizabeth.

"What do we want? Why, we want what all men want: to call no man our master; to partake of the fruits of our labour; and, mostly, we just want to put that pompous Mr. Darcy in his place. We have declared a new form of rule here. No longer is this a manor house for a gentleman and his servants. We have declared our freedom. We have declared this The Republic of Pemberley, and from now on, all men are free: all men are equal. No man shall say he is better or more important or of more consequence than the others."

Elizabeth looked from the servants to Mrs. Gardiner and back again. Smythe, too's, speech had struck a chord in her heart and passion began to swell up in her chest and fire came to her fine eyes.

"Count me in!" she cried. "Up the Republic!"

Part 3

While Elizabeth was getting a crash course in armed warfare, Mr. Gardiner was being kept company by an armed guard in the wine cellar. When he began his captivity, Mr. Gardiner struggled and groaned loudly, but seeing the lack of results from that strategy, he quickly altered his tactics. So, he sat propped against the wall, groaning pitifully from time to time, rocking his head back and forth. That strategy brought results.

"Are you all right, sir?" asked his warder. But all the reply he got was a series of low, mournful whimpers.

"I'll tell you what, sir: I'll take the gag off if you promise not to yell for help." The guard was clearly sympathetic to Mr. Gardiner's plight.

Mr. Gardiner sputtered as the gag was removed.

"Now, how about untying my wrists?" Mr. Gardiner thought to take advantage of his guard's sympathy.

"You wouldn't want me to get into trouble, would you, sir?"

"Get into trouble? How would you get into trouble? Don't you know I'm on your side?"

"You, sir?"

"Yes. Although I've never met your master, I know his class. Indolent aristocrats. They're all tarred with the same brush. Arrogant and vain fellows! Why, they've never had to work for a living. They've never known the meaning of labour. We lawyers know. We're a hard working lot. Day in, day out, working, toiling, sweating. Working up a thirst." This last statement was accompanied by a slow meaningful sweep of his eyes over the store of wine bottles.

"I know what you mean, sir. About work. Working hard. Working up a thirst."

"Haven't you always wanted to just taste one of those luscious burgundies?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, sir, I have. But I'm a cider man, myself, and them wines seem a little too rich for me."

"Too rich for you, what? You? The salt of the earth? You, who toil and sweat so that the likes of Mr. Darcy can hoarde bottles of wine for himself and his cronies?" Mr. Gardiner paused here to let his words take their full impact. "It is you who have earned this reward for your labours. It is your sweat that has produced this harvest. You are the rightful owner. You and your fellow labourers." Again he paused. The guard was clearly pondering the implication of this line of thought. "What's your name, my good man?"

"Smythe, sir."

"Not another one!" Mr. Gardiner muttered this under his breath. "Well," he said sweetly, "what's your Christian name?"

"Tom."

"Pleased to meet you, Tom." Mr. Gardiner held out his hand to Tom Smythe, while patting him firmly on the shoulder with his other hand. "Now that formalities are over, what do you say, Tom, to you and I partaking a little of the fruits of your labour? A couple of hard working men like ourselves deserve a little refreshment, what?"

Tom looked troubled. He knit his eyebrows together, and bit his lower lip. Obviously, he was pondering his decision. Mr. Gardiner knew when to rest his case.

After a considerable pause, and much soul searching, Tom said, "I say we start with that bottle of 1767 Bordeaux."

As the two men indulged their thirsts, they began to relax and talk, and eventually Tom began to sing a ballad bewailing the deplorable condition of working class families. It took only two repeats of the chorus before Mr. Gardiner was able to join in.

Part 4

Meanwhile, back in the drawing room, after Elizabeth had declared her platform...

"Lizzy!" cried the disbelieving Mrs. Gardiner. "What can you be thinking of?"

"Why, of putting that pompous Mr. Darcy in his place. I'm not good enough for him, am I not? Well, we'll see about that! Hand me a pike, men!"

"Up the Republic! Long live the revolution!" the servants cried.

Mrs. Reynolds, the gentle-looking woman who had lured the ladies into the trap, now came up to the sobbing Mrs. Gardiner and put an arm around her shoulder.

"There, there, ma'am. Don't cry. I'll get you a nice cup of tea." Laying aside her cudgel, she led Mrs. Gardiner into the kitchen.

Pemberley house was now a bustle of activity; yet, none of the family was at home: Guerrilla training in the drawing room, wine-tasting and a sing-song in the cellar, and tea in the kitchen. But it was not long before a member of the family did arrive. Mr. Darcy had come home a day sooner than expected. Because they were very busy, however, the servants failed to notice their master's arrival, and none came to take his horse in the courtyard, or his jacket in the foyer.

"Where are those servants? Smythe! Smythe!" he called. "Damn servants! Indolent class. They're never around when you need them. Smythe! Smythe!"

Smythe , hearing his master call, quieted the drawing room ruckus as best he could, and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him. He appeared suddenly in front of his master.

"You called, sir?"

"Damn it, Smythe! Don't sneak up on me like that! What the devil is going on here? What's all this racket? And who is that singing?"

"You have a guest, sir."

"A musical guest."

"A lady, sir. In the drawing room, sir."

"A lady? My aunt, I suppose? What the devil can she want?"

"It's not your aunt, sir. It's Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

"Miss Bennet? Are you quite sure?"

"Quite sure, sir."

"She has quite a noisy entourage with her. No doubt the entire Bennet clan."

"An aunt and uncle came with her, sir."

"From Cheapside?"

"Sir, you know I haven't the training to distinguish degrees in taste."

"She's caked in mud six inches up her petticoat?"

"I haven't checked her petticoat, sir, but she appears quite clean."

"Ah, well then, I suppose I must see her. Lead the way, Smythe."

As Mr. Darcy made his way toward the drawing room, he stopped to smoothe his hair in front of a looking-glass in the hall. Although he was by far Miss Bennet's superior, it would do no good to appear disheveled in her presence.

Smythe walked into the drawing room and announced Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy swept in, in a stately manner, and taking a slight bow, he said, "Miss Bennet." But when he looked up, to his surprise, he saw Elizabeth Bennet, cudgel in hand, in front of his servants, similarly armed.

"What the...," he stammered out.

"A change in power has taken place, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said, her voice filled with passion and her fine eyes blazing. "You are no longer the man in control here. You are no longer superior to anyone. This is now the Republic of Pemberley, where all men-- and all women I might add--are equal. Tie him up, men!" Wild cheering again erupted from the servants.

Elizabeth leaned close to his face as his captors subdued him, and said in a lower voice, "So, I'm not good enough for you, Mr. Darcy? You're too high and mighty for the Bennets, are you? We'll see about that! Take him to the cellar!"

"I should have known it would come to this! It finally dawned on you what you lost when you turned down my proposal! Now you want to take it by force. You'll not succeed. I'll notify the authorities."

"Mr. Darcy, we are the authorities."

Mr. Darcy could not reply, as he was now gagged. He was led, struggling as he went, down the hallway toward the cellar, all the while the servants crying, "Up the Republic! Long live the revolution!"

As they rounded the corner and passed the open kitchen, Mrs. Reynolds and Mrs. Gardiner could be seen having tea.

Part 5

The cellar door burst open, and Smythe, too threw in the bound and gagged Mr. Darcy. The singing came to an abrupt halt. Mr. Gardiner and Tom Smythe were caught red-handed with the wine bottles and tell-tale red stains across their now immobile lips.

"Hey, Tom! What's going on here?" asked Smythe, too. "Fraternizing with the enemy?"

"No! I'm not! This man says he's not the enemy. He says he's one of us! A working man like ourselves--not an aristocrat."

Mr. Darcy stared in wide-eyed disbelief: silent not only because of the gag, but from the incredulity of the situation. A wide blush overspread Mr. Gardiner's face.

"Is that so?" Smythe, too was suspicious. "He don't look like one of us, Tom. He looks more like one of them." Smythe, too pointed directly at Mr. Darcy.

"But...but ...," Tom floundered. "He has to be one of us: He knows all the words to the songs."

"That don't make him one of us, Tom."

"But he says he works hard, like us. He says he's not idle and lazy like Mr. Darcy over there." Tom pointed at Mr. Darcy. "He says Mr. Darcy's a swindler, living off of our hard work and making himself the high and mighty lord of the manor. He says this estate and all that's in it rightfully belongs to us. He's a lawyer and he says he'll help us in our cause."

Mr. Gardiner's blush grew deeper and he coughed nervously.

"Is that so?" Smythe, too eyed Mr. Gardiner. "Well, all the same, I'd keep an eye on him, Tom. I wouldn't trust him." And as he withdrew from the cellar, he added, "And save some of that wine for the rest of us."

Mr. Gardiner quickly formulated a new plan. He stepped forward toward the new prisoner and said, "Mr. Darcy, I presume?" Mr. Gardiner bowed deeply, and as he did so, something slipped from his waistcoat pocket: A cigar case with the initials F. D. landing face up. He froze in a 90 degree angle, and putting forward one delicately shod foot, he covered the case and pulled it back toward him with his toes.

Mr. Darcy's eyes grew wider.

Rising from his bow, Mr. Gardiner's eyes quickly shifted from side to side as he coughed and blushed and nervously toed the cigar case. He was desperately trying to formulate a new strategy.

"Tom, Mr. Darcy looks like a reasonable man to me. I would think he wouldn't yell if we took off that gag. After all," he chuckled, "who would hear him anyway, save only those who wouldn't rescue him, what?"

Tom had to think on this. Mr. Gardiner turned toward Mr. Darcy and winked knowingly.

"I would say," said Mr. Gardiner, "that Mr. Darcy is an educated man and is clever enough to know not to try anything if we should take off that gag, and even if we should untie his wrists."

"Well," said the perplexed Tom, "I suppose you're right. But, all the same, I don't think I ought to take off that gag. Those fellows upstairs would be awful mad at me."

"You'd only be taking off a gag, Tom. You wouldn't be setting him free. After all, he's locked up here in the cellar and he can't escape. The least you can do, Tom, for your former employer, is to take off that gag. After all, hasn't Mr. Darcy been a good master?"

Tom paused as he considered Mr. Gardiner's words.

"Actually, he's really been very arrogant, bossy and demanding."

"But wasn't there at least one time when he did something good?"

"Well... I suppose he must have done something good in his life. I imagine his mother liked him."

"There you have it! A good son to his mother! Now isn't that reason enough to take off that gag?"

"Well...I suppose it wouldn't hurt just to take off the gag...."

Mr. Gardiner patted Tom soundly on the shoulders and said, "I knew you were a reasonable man, Tom. I knew I could rely on you to do the right thing, what?" He smiled and winked at Mr. Darcy.

Tom cautiously approached his employer and removed the gag. "I hope, sir, you won't hold this against me. I'm only doing my job, sir--taking orders from higher-ups. Like I've always done with you, sir."

Mr. Darcy coughed as the gag was removed, but sat in silent incredulity.

"Now, Tom, untie his wrists." Mr. Gardiner was triumphant. "Now, then, what did I say all along? Didn't I know Tom Smythe to be a reasonable man from the first?" He winked again at Mr. Darcy. "Now, Tom, will you introduce me to your employer?"

Tom was not only unused to such duties, but was beginning to get the feeling he was being manipulated by the wiley Mr. Gardiner. His inability to verbally counter the lawyer caused a crescendo of feelings which burst forth as he exclaimed, "I don't bloody well know who you are! How can I introduce you to anybody?" And after a short pause, he added respectfully and with a slight bow, "Pardon the language, Mr. Darcy, sir."

"Why, sure you know me, Tom. Haven't you and I shared drinks and songs and good times? Why, I'm an uncle to Mr. Darcy's acquaintance, Miss Eliza Bennet, the young lady upstairs. Mr. Gardiner's my name. Mr. Gardiner, solicitor from Cheapside."

"That, sir, goes without saying." Mr. Darcy now spoke up. "Save your introductions, Tom."

The cellar was silent now. No one dared sing, talk or even drink the half finished bottles of wine. Mr. Darcy was growing despondent, as he looked at the open bottles. He felt certain his wine cellar would be ransacked and that he would never taste those special wines he had been saving . Finally he broke the silence.

"Tom, what is that wine you've been drinking. Bring me the bottle."

"Mr. Darcy, sir, it was all that gentleman's idea. I don't know one wine from another, sir. He opened the bottles."

"It's all right, Tom. You've been a good servant. You've worked hard. You deserve a glass of fine wine now and then. Perhaps I should have been more appreciative and rewarded your service a little more often." He paused and then added, "You like that wine, Tom?"

"It's awfully good, sir."

"You see those bottles down there, over in the far corner? They're even better. Let's open one of those bottles and you and I enjoy it."

"You mean that, sir?"

"Yes. But to really enjoy it, we need glasses. Slip out there and get us a couple of glasses."

Tom, thrilled to be so recognized by his master, rushed out after the glasses.

"You," said Mr. Darcy to Mr. Gardiner, "may finish those other bottles."

Part 6

While Tom was on his mission after wine glasses, Mrs. Gardiner was growing anxious over the fate of her husband. She had had her tea, and although the conversation of Mrs. Reynolds was not unpleasant, nevertheless, Mrs. Gardiner could not keep her mind from fixing on her husband's confinement. Yet, every time she dared to broach the subject, Mrs. Reynolds would divert her attention with some remark on the history of Pemberley or the Darcy family. Mrs. Gardiner learned of the original occupants of Pemberley; of when the grounds were laid out, and how much it cost; of the fate of Mr. Darcy's second cousin twice removed; of the heroic, noble deeds of several remote ancestors; and of the marriages of just about every Darcy under the sun over the past four or five centuries.

At another time, this would all have been very welcome information, indeed, as Mrs. Gardiner had a natural inclination for such drivel. Finally, however, she could bear it no longer. In a rush of emotion, Mrs. Gardiner blurted out, "Mrs. Reynolds! Stop this trumpery! I don't give a hang whom Mr. Darcy's great-uncle married! I just want to find Mr. Gardiner and go home!" And with that, she broke into uncontrolled sobbing.

"There, there, Mrs. Gardiner. I'll make a fresh pot of tea."

"No more tea!" Mrs. Gardiner almost shouted the words. Then, in a lower tone she added, "Just take me to my husband, please."

"Well, since I have the kettle on the boil, I'll make the tea just the same, and bring it to Tom in the cellar. He may have word of Mr. Gardiner, and I can deliver your message."

"Oh, would you, please? Please hurry!"

Mrs. Reynolds, however, was not a woman to be hurried. She piddled around setting out the tea things on a tray, while a girl from the kitchen prepared the pot.

"Let's see...do I have everything? Sugar? Spoons? Milk?"

"Please hurry!" Mrs. Gardiner was frantic. She picked up the tray, thrust it into Mrs. Reynolds' hands and practically shoved her out the door.

Mrs. Reynolds wandered her way down the corridors and the back stairway to the wine cellar, where she tapped at the door with her foot.

Inside, the occupants of the cellar had been quietly sipping their wine, each lost in his own thoughts: Tom was full of thoughts of his own self-importance at being admitted into Mr. Darcy's company; Mr. Gardiner thought with painful humiliation on his having been refused the acquaintance of Mr. Darcy and how he had to drink the lesser wine without benefit of a glass, for Tom had returned only with two; and Mr. Darcy's thoughts were fixed totally on reconstructing his image of Anne de Burgh--she began to look more and more appealing to him, and not nearly so distasteful as he had formerly thought her.

With the tap at the door, Tom responded, unlocked the door and, with glass of wine in hand, welcomed in Mrs. Reynolds.

"I thought you might like a nice cup of tea, but I see you have refreshments. How is our prisoner doing?" And turning to Mr. Gardiner, she said, "Mrs. Gardiner sends her kind regards, sir." Then, catching sight of Mr. Darcy, she said, "Why, Mr. Darcy! What brings you to the wine cellar? It's a very rare occasion when you venture so far as the wine cellar. But I thought I saw you in the corridor earlier, as you passed the kitchen, but I had no idea..."

Mr. Darcy was a man who was quick to grasp an opportunity when it presented itself. Quick as a flash, without giving Mrs. Reynolds time to finish speaking, for he knew she could go on for hours, he was up out of his seat, had the tea tray out of her hands and had her in a half nelson.

"Don't anyone move and she won't get hurt!" Mr. Darcy's voice and demeanor was that of a desperate man. Mr. Gardiner and Tom watched in wide-eyed wonder as Mr. Darcy, with his hostage, backed out of the cellar, bolting the door behind him.

Part 7

Mrs. Gardiner's anxiety was increasing by the minute. Being fully acquainted by now with Mrs. Reynolds' languor, she felt it best to take matters into her own hands. Leaving the kitchen, she wandered up and down the corridors, till at last she came upon the drawing room which was still in a flurry of activity. She opened the door, and poked her head in, but the activity continued and no one seemed to notice her. Finally, she called out, "Lizzy, have you seen Mr. Gardiner?"

Elizabeth, intently involved in her training, stopped and looked at Mrs. Gardiner as though she were looking at a stranger: Indeed, she had forgotten completely about Mrs. Gardiner.

"Mr. Gardiner?" she asked.

"Yes. Your uncle."

Smythe, too, stepped forward, now. "He's well taken care of, ma'am, I can assure you. Now, let me bring you back to Mrs. Reynolds, and she'll make you some tea."

"Thank you, sir, but Mrs. Reynolds has gone in search of my husband, and frankly, I'm sick to death of tea."

"I'm sorry to hear that--Mrs. Reynolds puts out a fine tea....By the bye, did you say Mrs. Reynolds was gone looking for Mr. Gardiner? Quick men! To the cellar! As much as I admire Mrs. Reynolds, she's just the person to foul things up!"

Several armed servants made a dash for the door.

"Wait a minute!" shouted Elizabeth. "I think it would be better if I went alone. If all you fellows go after her with clubs and swords, she might get alarmed, and who knows what might happen. But if I handle it on my own, things can be kept under control."

Everyone agreed to Elizabeth's point, and she tucked a dagger in her sash and started out toward the cellar. As her adrenaline was flowing, she ran swiftly, although she was wont to run just the same.

No one seemed to notice Mrs. Gardiner was still on the loose. She had originally started out after Elizabeth, but as she could not keep up, she soon lost sight of her, and indeed of any room or corridor that might be familiar. So, Mrs. Gardiner slowed her pace and began to admire each room and its contents.

Elizabeth, meanwhile, bounded down the steps to the wine cellar, unbolted the door and burst in with dagger in hand.

"Lizzy!" cried Mr. Gardiner. "Thank Heavens you've come! Now, finally, we can leave!"

"Not so fast, uncle! Where's Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Darcy?"

"They left only a few minutes ago. You've just missed them."

"Right! I'm off then!"

But as she turned toward the door, Mr. Gardiner asked, "So soon? Won't you at least stay and have a glass of this fine wine?" He offered her a glass of the better wine to which he had switched on Mr. Darcy's departure.

She turned back. "What kind is it?"

"I can't quite pronounce the name, can you, Tom?" Tom declared he knew no French. "Mr. Darcy assured us it's his best." Tom nodded in ready agreement.

"Well," she said, "I suppose one glass won't hurt. I do so love a good wine." She tucked her dagger back in her sash. "I may just need this glass of wine to brace up for my battle."

As Mr. Gardiner was now using Mr. Darcy's glass, he said curtly to Tom, "For goodness' sake, Tom, offer a lady a glass!"

Tom, who had no intention of offending a lady, obediently downed the contents of his glass, wiped the rim on his shirt sleeve, and handed it to Mr. Gardiner to fill for Elizabeth.

"Now, Lizzy, have you ever tasted anything so lovely?" Elizabeth assured him she hadn't.

The conversation stayed on wines for some time. After a while, Mr. Gardiner said, "Give us a song, Tom." And as Tom began one of his long ballads, Mr. Gardiner refilled the glasses.

Meanwhile, Mr. Darcy, with his hostage, was looking for a way out without passing any of the armed servants who were now freely roaming the main floor of the house. He went from covert to covert, at one time hiding behind a bureau and at another, behind draperies. Things were going along smoothly, and he was making progress toward the southern exit, when he came head on into Mrs. Gardiner.

"Mrs. Reynolds!" Mrs. Gardiner cried. "You're just the person I'm looking for! This is such a grand house. I've been enjoying a self-guided tour."

But the captive Mrs. Reynolds was unable to answer because of Mr. Darcy's hand firmly over her mouth, and could only stare back at Mrs. Gardiner.

"By the bye, did you see Mr. Gardiner? Did you deliver my message? Did you tell him I'm ready to leave?"

Mr. Darcy now spoke up. "Allow me to make your acquaintance, madam. Fitzwilliam Darcy," he said, and letting go of Mrs. Reynolds, he made a low, sweeping bow.

Mrs. Gardiner, overwhelmed that her acquaintance was sought by such an illustrious gentleman, blushed and made a deep curtsey. "Mrs. Gardiner, sir. Aunt to an acquaintance of yours--a Miss Eliza Bennet."

"Madam, I assure you, your acquaintances cannot increase my estimation of you." She blushed deeply and he continued, "Now, madam, I pray you notice, a counterrevolution is forming under my direction, and you and Mrs. Reynolds here, whose acquaintance I believe you can claim, are both my prisoners. It is my intent to recapture my estate, using the services of both you fine ladies." He bowed slightly at the last remark. "You will be richly rewarded for your services."

The ladies both giggled and blushed.

"Now," he continued, "what I want you to do, is to go into the corridor and scream for help, and as help arrives, direct them to the wine cellar."

The ladies were delighted to be of use to the fine Mr. Darcy and to play such a pivotal role in the action. They ran, giggling, to the corridor, while Mr. Darcy hid behind the door. They then called, unconvincingly, for help. Mr. Darcy could only raise his eyes to Heaven.

"What is it?" asked the first servants to arrive on the scene.

"Quick," the ladies cried through their giggles, "To the wine cellar!"

"Now, what is it you ladies are up to?"

The giggling increased. "Hurry to the cellar!"

The voices of Tom, Mr. Gardiner and Elizabeth, blended in song, rang through to the upper floor.

"A party! Is that what it is?"

The ladies exchanged knowing looks and burst into fresh giggles.

"C'mon, men! Let's go get some of that wine!" They all ran towards the cellar, and as the corridor emptied, Mrs. Gardiner and Mrs. Reynolds burst into fresh giggles.

Mr. Darcy came out from behind the door, and picked up a club dropped by one of the servants.

"How did we do?"

Mr. Darcy sighed in exasperation. "Wonderfully," he said.

Part 8

While Mr. Darcy was busy with his hostage, Tom, Mr. Gardiner, and Elizabeth carried on in the cellar. Tom, finishing a song, beamed at the praise heaped on him by the other two.

"That was a fine song, Tom! You give us a song, now, Lizzy, for it's your turn. Now, here's a fine singer for you, Tom. If you've never heard Miss Elizabeth Bennet sing, you're in for a treat."

"Oh, really, I can't. Not without my pianoforte. I never sing a capella."

"But I thought I heard you sing that aria in Cheapside last year. Surely, Lizzy, if anyone can sing 'Acup Ella', you can."

"Thank you, uncle, for the compliment, but I'm afraid I can't sing today. But I can have another glass of that wine. Are you pouring, uncle?"

But before Mr. Gardiner could pour the wine, the servants burst in, with Smythe, too in the lead. They all demanded their share of the wine, and enough bottles were opened for all; however, not Tom, nor Mr. Gardiner, nor Elizabeth offered to them the finest of the wines in the far corner.

As the bottles were being opened, they were all chatting noisily, and no one heard Mr. Darcy approach. He slammed the door shut on them, and bolted it closed.

Several of the servants, in their panic, made a run at the bolted door, bashing into it with their bodies and their weapons.

"Wait a minute!" screamed Elizabeth. "That won't get us anywhere, but I think I know who might be behind this! Mr. Darcy," she called out, "is that you?"

"Indeed it is, Miss Bennet." He made a slight bow to the door.

"And may I ask what your intention is, sir, in locking us all in here?"

"Certainly. My intention is to squelch a coup and to discipline unruly servants."

"Ah, well, if it's the servants you'd like to discipline, sir, perhaps you could let my uncle and myself out."

"Indeed not, madam. Have you so soon forgotten your own role in this coup?"

Elizabeth, growing angry, stamped her foot and said firmly, " Mr. Darcy, let us out, now!"

Movement was heard at the door, as if Mr. Darcy was beginning to unbolt the door, but then changed his mind, and slammed the lock back into position.

"Miss Bennet, for a moment, I almost forgot myself! In my desire for one look at your fine eyes fired with passion, I almost let you free."

She pounded the door with both her fists. "Mr. Darcy! I want out!"

"Miss Bennet, here are the terms of surrender. Please communicate them to your cohorts.

"1. All leaders are to be sacked. They are to find positions elsewhere; however, I will help them to secure employment.

"2. All secondary revolutionaries are to be demoted, and never allowed to work with knives, pikes, lances, shafts, rakes, shovels, hoes, axes, hammers, staffs, bats, canes, sticks, clubs, cudgels, quarterstaffs, or any other sharp or heavy, blunt instruments, or indeed any instrument which could be construed as a weapon. Furthermore, they are forbidden to even use table knives. New servants will be hired to oversee those who have been demoted.

"3. The price of all wine drunk in my wine cellar will be deducted from the servants' wages."

At this last condition of surrender, the servants all began to grumble, groan, and shout. This was the last straw. They needed only minutes to reach a decision.

"Mr. Darcy, the people refuse to accept this last condition, and they have one of their own to submit: That at Christmas time, each person in your employ receives a complimentary bottle of wine from your cellar."

"Miss Bennet, are you out of your mind? Have you gone completely mad? Indeed I can not, I will not accept this condition!"

More grumbling was heard from the servants.

"Mr. Darcy, you must accept this condition, because if you don't, starting in exactly one minute, I'm going to smash a bottle of your finest wine. And for every minute you delay in your acceptance, I will smash another and another, until you have no wine left."

Mr. Darcy had broken out into a heavy sweat, with his heart pounding, and his face grown pale.

"Ha! Then, Miss Bennet, what will you have left to bargain with?" His words were all confidence, but his tone betrayed his anxiety. From inside he could hear a bottle break and shatter.

"Miss Bennet, no! You mustn't do that!"

"Quick, Mr. Darcy! Open the door! Time is ticking away!"

"Miss Bennet, surely we can reach an agreement reasonably, without smashing things up!"

The sound of more shattering glass could be heard.

"Miss Bennet, that wasn't even a minute!"

"Sorry, Mr. Darcy. We have no way to mark the minutes in here."

"All right, Miss Bennet!" He spit out the words as fast as he could. "We agree to my first two conditions and your final one. Agreed?"

There was silence.

"Is it agreed, Miss Bennet?" he shouted.

After a short pause, Elizabeth gave her approval, and as Mr. Darcy unbolted the door, the servants filed out, one after another looking sheepishly at Mr. Darcy. As Smythe, too came out, Mr. Darcy called over to him.

"Smythe, I know you to be the leader. It was you who gave the orders for me to be bound and gagged. You, sir, will have to go!"

The other servants all began shouting, "He was the leader, all right!" "He sure was!" "He's your man, sir."

"The rest of you, back to work--and remember what I said about work implements!"

Mr. Gardiner, very quiet at this stage, tried to follow along in the crowd of servants, slithering against the wall toward the staircase.

"Hold it!" cried Mr. Darcy. "You! Come here!" Mr. Gardiner froze in his tracks, and Elizabeth now stepped forward.

"Mr. Darcy, may I present my uncle, Mr. Gardiner, from London?"

Mr. Darcy ran his eyes from Mr. Gardiner's head to his toes, and said, "I know full well where he's from, madam. Your euphemisms won't work with me." Nevertheless, he made a slight bow toward Elizabeth's uncle. "An uncle, eh? I can't put him to work then, can I? Hmph. I can, however, request from you, sir, my cigar case." And Mr. Darcy held out his hand toward Mr. Gardiner.

As Mr. Gardiner produced the case, he said, "You're fortunate I saved it for you, sir. Those servants were trying to steal everything!"

"Sir, I believe you to be the fortunate one: I will not press charges. Now run along to your wife. She has been waiting for you upstairs. Your niece will be up directly."

As Mr. Gardiner left, Mr. Darcy said, "Now, Miss Bennet, who is to clean up this mess?"

"Why," cried Elizabeth, "the servants, of course!"

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