N ICHOLAS NIUKLE Y. BY CHARLES DICKENS. ("B OZ,") T. B. FETERSON'S UNIFORM EDITION OF CHARLES DICKENS' TOR8K. CONTAINING LTEAK HIOUSE. DICKENS' NEW STORIES. Contain. PTCKWVICK PAPERS. ing-TRE SEVEN POOP. TRAVELLERtL OLD) CURIOSITY SHOP. NIE NEW STORIES BY THE CHRISTMAA (;LIVER TWIST. FIRE. HIARD TIMES. LIZZIE LEIGB. KrETCHES BY "B)Z"." THE MINER'S DAUGHTERS. FOI-TUNI BARNABY RUDC $ WILDRED, THE F9)NDLIOG, ETC. NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. DOMBEY AND SON. MARTIN CHUZZLEWIT. CHRISTMAS STORIES, AND PIa DAVID COPPERFIELD. TUR]ES FROM ITALY. ) il a b lp i a: T. B. PETERSON AND BROTHERS, 306 CHESTNUT STREET. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. MR. RALPH NICKLEBY'S FIRST VISIT TO HIS POOR RELATIONS...................................... 1HE YORKSHIRE SCHOOLMASTER AT THE SARACEN'S HEAD................................................. 28 NICHOLAS STARTS FOR YORKSHIRE........................................................................................... 36 THE FIVE SISTERS OF YORIK..................................................................................................... 41 THE INTERNAL ECONOMY OF DOTHEBOYS HALL.......................................................... KATE NICKLEBY SITTING TO MISS LA CREEVY...............................................................6......... 6 NEWMAN NOGGS LEAVES THE LADIES IN THE EMPTY HOUSE...................................... 76 NICHOLAS ASTONISHES MR. SQUEERS AND FAMILY.................................................................. 85 NICHOLAS ENGAGED AS TUTOR IN A PRIVATE FAMILY........................................................... 157 MADAM MANTALINI INTRODUCES KATE TO MISS KNAG.......................................................... 110 MISS NICKLEBY INTRODUCED TO HER UNCLE'S FRIENDS........................................................ 122 MR. RALPH NICKLEBY'S "HONEST COMPOSURE"....................................................................... 129 THE PROFESSIONAL GENTLEMAN AT MADAM MANTALINI'S................................................... 135 THE COUNTRY MANAGER REHEARSES A COMBAT..................................................................... 143 THE GREAT BESPEAK FOR MISS SNEVELLICCI............................................................................ 160 NICHOLAS INSTRUCTS SMIKE IN THE ART OF ACTING................................................. 1f, AFFECTIONATE BEHAVIOUR OF MESSRS. PYKE AND PLUCK....................................... 176 NICHOLAS HINTS AT THE PROBABILITY OF HIS LEAVING THE COMPANY............................ 192 THEATRICAL EMOTION OF MR. VINCENT CRUMMLES................................................... 200 NICHOLAS ATTRACTED BY THE MENTION OF HIS SISTER'S NAME IN THE COFFEE ROOM..... 206 MR. AND MRS. MANTALINI IN RALPH NICKLEBY'S OFFICE................................................... 210 EMOTION OF MR. KENWIGS ON HEARING THE FAMILY NEWS FROM NICHOLAS.................... 232 LINKINWATER INTIMATES HIS APPROVAL OF NICHOLAS........................................................ 235 A SUDDEN RECOGNITION UNEXPECTED ON BOTH SIDES........................................................... 24 NICHOLAS RECOGNIZES THE YOUNG LADY UNKNOWN............................................................. 256 THE GENTLEMAN NEXT DOOR DECLARES HIS PASSION FOR MRS. NICKLEBY........................ 264 MR. MANTALINI POISONS HIMSELF FOR THE SEVENTH TIME................................................. 284 MR. SNAWLEY ENLARGES ON PARENTAL INSTINCT................................................................. 290 NICHOLAS MAKES HIS FIRST VISIT TO MR. BRAY.................................................................... 298 THE CONSULTATION..................................................................................................................... 301 MYSTERIOUS APPEARANCE OF THE GENTLEMAN IN THE SMALL-CLOTHES......................... 317 THE LAST BRAWL BETWEEN SIR MULBERRY AND HIS PUPIL................................................ 325 GREAT EXCITEMENT OF MISS KENWIGS AT THE HAIR-DRESSER'S SHOP................................. 336 NICHOLAS CONGRATULATES ARTHUR GRIDE ON HIS WEDDING MORNING............................. 352 MR. SQUEERS AND MRS. SLIDERSKEW UNCONSCIOUS OF VISITERS.......................................... 369 THE RECOGNITION.................................................................................................................... 371 REDUCED CIRCUMSTANCES OF MR. MANTALINI........................................................................ 899 THE BREAKING UP AT DOTHEBOYS HALL................................................................................. 401 THE CHILDREN AT THEIR COUSIN'S GRAVE...................................................................... CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. CHAPTER XVIr. atroduees all the rest..................................Page 13 Follows the fortune of Miss Nickleby................ 10 CHAPTER II. CHAPTER XVIII. Of Mr. Ralph Nickleby, and his establishment, Miss Knag, after doting on Kate Nickleby for and his undertakings. And of a great joint three whole days, makes up her m.id to hate stock company of vast national importance...... 16 her for evermore. The causes which lead Miss CHAPTER III. Kna4 to form this resolution........................... 11 Mir. Ralph Nickleby receives sad tidings of his CHAPTER XIX. brother, but bears up nobly against the intel- of a dinner at blioence bcommunicated to him. The reader is Descriptive of a dinner at Mr. Ralph Nickleby's, and of the manner in which the company enInformed how he liked Nicholas, who is herein tertained themselves before dinner, at dinner, introduced. and how kindly he proposed to and after dinner.............................. make his fortune at once................................. 21...................................... CHAPTER IV.CHAPTER XX.?Nichc.las and his uncle (to secure the fortune Wherein Nicholas at length encounters his nnwithout loss of time) wait upon Mr. Wackford cle, to whom he expresses his sentiments with Squeers, the Yorkshire schoolmaster................. 26 much candour. Hi resolution..................... CHAPTER V. CHAPTER XXI. licholas starts for Yorkshire.-Of his leave tak- Madame Mantalini finds herself in a situation ing and his fellow travellers, and what befel of some difficulty, and Miss Nickleby finds herthem on the road.................................... 33 self in no situation at all............................... 133 CHAPTER VI. CHAPTER XXII. In which the occurrence of the accident men- Nicholas, accompanied by Smike, sallies forth to tioned in the last chapter, affords an opportu- seek his fortune. He encounters Mr. Vincent nity to a couple of gentlemen to tell stories Crummies; and who he was is herein made against each other.......................................... 38 manifest....................................................... 139 CHAPTER VII. CHAPTER XXIII. Mr. and Mrs. Squeers at home............................ 48 Treats of the company of Mr. Vincent CrumCHAPTER VIII. mles. and of his affairs, both domestic and Of the intern economy of Dotheboys Hall.......... 3 theatrical........................................................ 1 Of the internal economy of Dotheboys Hall......5... 53 CHAPTER IX. CHAPTER XXIV. Of the great bespeak for Miss Snevellicci, and Of Miss Sqneers, Mrs. Squeers, Master Squeers, the first appearance of Nicholas upon any stage 158 and Mr. Squeers; and various matters and persons connected no less with the Squeerses than CHAPTER XXV. with Nicholas Nickleby............................... 59 Concerning a young lady from London who joins CHAPTER X. the company, and an elderly admirer who folHow Mr. Ralph Nickleby provided for his niece lows ir her train; with an affecting ceremony and sister-in-law.......................... 66 conequent on their arriva............................ 161 CHAPTER XI. CHAPTER XXVI. Mr. Newman ANoggs inducts Mrs. and Miss Nick- Is fraught with some danger to Miss Nickleby's leby into their new dwelling in the city............. 73 peace of mind............................................ 167 CHAPTER XII. CHAPTER XXVII. Whereby the reader will be enabled to trace the Mrs. Nickleby becomes acquainted with Messr. further course of Miss Fanny Squeers's love, Pyke and Pluck, whose affection and interest and to ascertain whether it ran smoothly or are beyond all bounds..................................... 173 otherwise................................................. 75 CHAPTER XXVIIL CHAPTER XIII. Miss Nickleby, rendered desperate by the perse. Nicholas varies the monotony of Dotheboys Hall cution of Sir Mulberry Hawk, and the compli by a most vigorous and remarkable proceed cated difficulties and distresses which surround ing, which leads to consequences of some im- her, appeals, as a last resource, to her uncle for porto ce.............................. 81 protection.................................................... CHAPTER XIV. CHAPTER XXIX.. [aving the misfortune treat of none but com- Of the proceedings of Nicholas, and certain inmon people, is necessarily of a mean and vulgar ternal divisions in the company of Mr. Vincter........................................................ 8 cent Crummles............................................... 188 CHAPTER XV. CHAPTER XXX. Acquaints the reader with the cause and origin Festivities are held in honour of Nicholas, who of the interruption described in the last chap- suddenly withdraws himself from the society ter, and with some other matters necessary to of Mr. Vincent Crummles and his theatrical be known...... 93 companions...................................... lo CHAPTER XVI. CHAPTER XXXI. Nicholas seeks to employ himself in a new ca- Of Ralph Nickleby and Newman Noggs, and pacity, and, being unsuccessful, accepts an en- some wise precautions, the success or failure sp ment as tutor in a private family............... 99 of which will appear in the sequel................... (11) 12 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXXII. course with another cld friend. They concert Relating chiefly to some remarkable conversa- between them a project, which promises well tion, and some remarkable proceedings to for both.2o S9 which it gives rise..................... 204 CHAPTE LV. CHAPTER XLVIII. CHAPTER XXXIII. Being for the benefit of Mr. Vincent Crummles, In which Mr. Ralph Nickleby is relieved, by a and positively his last appearance on this stage 307 very expelitious process, from all commerce with his relations......................................... 209 CIIAPTER XLIX. Chronicles the further proceedings of the Nieklely CHAPTER XXXIV. family, and the sequel of the adventure of the therein Mr. Ralph Nickleby is visited by per- gentleman in small-chothes............................. 312 sons with whom the reader haf been already made acquainted........................................... 213 CHAPTER L. CHAPTER 2XXXV.. Involves a serious catastrophe.......................... 32 Imike becomes known to Mrs. Nickleby and I CHAPTER LI. Kate. Nicholas also meets with new ac- t.he project of Mr. Ralph Nickleby and his friend qualntances, and brighter days seem to dawn approaching a successful issue, becomes unexupon the family.................................. 220 pectedly known to another party, not admitted ChAPTER XXXVI. private and confidential; relating to family mat- CHAPTER LII. ters. Showing how Mr. Kenwigs underwent Nicholas despairs of rescuing Madeline Bray, but violent agitation, and how Mrs. Kenwigs was plucks up his spirits again, and determines to as well as could be expected............................. 229 attempt it. Domestic intelligence of the Kenwigses and Lillyvicks..................................... 333 CHAPTER XXXVII. fieholas finds further favour in the eyes of the CHAPTER LIII. brothers Cheeryble and Mr. Timothy Linkin. Containing the further progress of the plot conwater. The brothers give a banquet on a great trived by Mr. Ralph Nickleby and Mr. Arthur annual occasion; Nicholas, on returning home Gride.............................................................. 339 from it, receives a mysterious and important disclosure from the lips of Mrs. Nickleby.......... 233 CHAPTER LIV. CHAPTER XXXVIII. The crisis of the project and its result................ 347.omprises certain particulars arising out of a visit of condolence, which may prove import. CHAPTER LV. ant hereafter. Smike unexpectedly encounters Of family matters, cares, hopes, disappoint-. very old friend, who invites him to his house, ments, and sorrows................................... 358 end will take no denial............................ 241 CHAPTER LVI. CHAPTER XXXIX. Ralph Nickleby, baffled by his nephew in his late In wlichr aaother old friend encounters Smike, design, hatches a scheme of retaliation which ~ery opertunely and to some purpose............... 248 accident suggests to him, and takes into his counsels a tried auxiliary..............................;99 CHAPTER XL. In whiclh. Nicholas falls in love. He employs a CHAPTER LVII. mediator, whtde proceedings are crowned with How Ralph Nickleby's auxiliary went about his unexpected success, excepting in one solitary work, and how he prospered with it................. 33 particular..................................................... 23 CHAPTiR XLI. CHAPTER LVIIL Containing some romantic passages between In which one scene of this history is olosed......... 370 Mrs. Nickleby and the gentleman in the smallclothes next door.......................................... 261 CHAPTER LIX. The plot begins to fail, and doubts and dangers CHAPTER XLII. to disturb the plotter................................ 373 Illustrative of the convivial sentiment, that the best fribads must sometimes part.................... 267 CHAPTER LX. The dangers thicken, and the worst is told......... 3N3 CHAPTER XLIII. OfBfliates as a kind of gentleman usher, a b'ing. CHAPTER LXI. ing various people together....................,. t73 Wherein Nicholas and his sister forfeit the good CHAPTER XLIV. f opinion of all worldly and prudent people........ 38 Mr Ralph Nickleby cuts an old acquaintance. It CHAPTER LXII. would also appear from the contents thereof, Ralph makes one last appointment-and keeps It 3i tnat a joke, even between husband and dife, may be sometimes carried too far.....................79 CHAPTER LXII The brothers Cheeryble make various declare. iLV. ons for themselves and others, and Tim LinCoutaining matter of a surprising kind............... 287 kinwater makes a declaration for himself......... S CHAPTER XLVI. CHAPTER LXIV. Throws some light upon Nicholas's love- but An old acquaintance is recognised under me. whether for good or evil, the reader must deter lancholy circumstances, and Dotheboys Hall mine............................................................ 293 breaks up for ever........................................ 3 CHAPTER XLVI. CHAPTER LXV. Kr. Ralph Ni-kleby has some confidential inter on.................................................... LIFE AND ADVENTUREk or NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. CHAPTER I. INTRODUCES ALL THE REST. rHER. once liised in a sequestered part complaints prevail of the population being ot the county of Devonshire, one Mr. God- scanty. It is extraordinary how long a frey Nickleby, a worthy gentleman, who, man may look among the crowd without taking it into his head rather late in life discovering the face of a friend, but it is that he must get married, and not being no less true. Mr. Nickleby looked and young enough or rich enough to aspire to looked till his eyes became sore as his the hand of a lady of fortune, had wedded heart, but no friend appeared; and when, an old flame out of mere attachment, who growing tired of the search, he turned his in her turn had taken him for the same eyes homeward, he saw very little there to reason; thus two people who cannot afford relieve his weary vision. A painter, who to play cards for money, sometimes sit has gazed too long upon some glaring coldown to a quiet game for love. our, refreshes his dazzled sight by looking Some ill-conditioned persons, who sneer upon a darker and more sombre tint; but at the life-matrimonial, may perhaps sug- everything that met Mr. Nickleby's gaze gest in this place that the good couple wore so black and gloomy a hue, that he w-ould be better likened to two principals would have been beyond description rein a spa-ring match, who, when fortune is freshed by the very reverse of the conlow and backers scarce, will chivalrously trast. set-to, for the mere pleasure of the buffet- At length, after five years, when Mrs. ing; and in one respect indeed this com- Nickleby had presented her husband with parison would hold good, for as the adven- a couple of sons, and that embarrassed turous pair of the Five's Court will after- gentleman, impressed with the necessity wards send round a hat, and trust to the of making some provision for his family, bounty of the lookers-on for the means of was seriously revolving in his mind a little regaling themselves, so Mr. Godfrey Nic- commercial speculation of insuring his life k leby and his partner, the honey-moon be- next quarter-day, and then falling from the img over, looked wistfully out into the top of the Monument by accident, there world, relying in no inconsiderable degree came one morning, by the general post, a upon chance for the improvement of their black-bordered letter to inform him how means. Mr. Nickleby's income, at the his uncle, Mr. Ralph Nickleby, was dead, period of his marriage, fluctuated between and had left him the bulk of his little prosixty and eighty pounds per annum. perty, amounting in all to five thousand'There are people enough in the world, pounds sterling. heaven knows! and even in London (where As the deceased had taken no further MIr Nicklerly dwelt in those days) but few notice of his nephew in his life-time, than 2 (A 14 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. mending to his eldest boy (who had been felony. "And," reasoned Ralph with christened after him, on desperate specula- himself, " if no good came of my uncle's tion) a silver spoon in a morocco case, money when he was alive, a great deal of which as he had not too much to eat with good came of it after he was dead, inasit, seemed a kind of satire upon his having much as my father has got it now, and is been born without that useful article of saving it up for me, which is a highly virplate in his mouth, Mr. Godfrey Nickle.by tuous purpose; and, going back to the old could at first scarcely believe the tidings gentleman, good did come of it to him too, thus conveyed to him. On further exami- for he had the pleasure of thinking of it nation, however, they turned nut to be all his life long, and of being envied and strictly correct. The amiable old gentle- courted by all his family besides." And man, it seemed, had intended to leave the Ralph always wound up these mental sowhole to the Royal Humane Society, and liloquies by arriving at the conclusion, had, indeed, executed a will to that effect; that there was nothing like money. but the Institution having been unfortu- Not confining himself to the theory, or nate enough, a few months before, to save permitting his faculties to rust even at that the life of a poor relation to whom he paid early age in mere abstract speculations, a weekly allowance of three shillings and this promising lad commenced usurer on sixpence, he had in a fit of very natural a small capital of slate pencil, and marbles, exasperation, revoked the bequest in a and gradually extending his operations codicil, and left it all to Mr. Godfrey Nic- until they aspired to the copper coinage of kleby: with a special mention of his in- this realm, in which he speculated to condignation, not only against the society for siderable advantage. Nor did he trouble saving the poor relation's life, but against his borrowers with abstract calculatiuns of the poor relation also, for allowing him- figures, or references to ready-reckoners; self to be saved. his simple rule of interest being all comWith a portion of this property Mr. God- prised in the one golden sentence, " twofrey Nickleby purchased a small farm near pence for every half-penny," which greatly Dawlish, in Devonshire, whither he retired simplified the accounts, and which, as a with his wife and two children, to live familiar precept, more easily acquired and upon the best interest he could get for the retained in the memory than any known rest of his money, and the little produce rule of arithmetic, cannot be too strongly he could raise from his land. The two recommended to the notice of capitalists, prospered so well together, that when he both large and small, and more especially died, some fifteen years after this period, of money-brokers and bill-discounters. Inand some five after his wife, he was deed, to do these gentlemen justice, many enabled to leave to his eldest son, Ralph, of them are to this day in the frequent three thousand pounds in cash, and to his habit of adopting it with eminent sucyoungest son, Nicholas, one thousand and cess. the farm; if indeed that can be called a In like manner, did young Ralph Nicklefarm, which, exclusive of house and pad- by avoid all those minute and intricate cal. dock, is about the size of Russell Square, culations of odd days, which nobody who measuring from the street-doors of the has never worked sums to simple-interest houses. can fail to have found most embarrassing, These two brothers had been brought up by establishing the one general rule that together in a school at Exeter, and being all sums of principal and interest should accustomed to go home once a week, had be paid on pocket-money day, that is to say, often heard, from their mother's lips, long on Saturday; and that whether a loan were accounts of their father's sufferings in his contracted on the Monday or on the Friday, days of poverty, and of their deceased un- the amount of interest should be in both cle's importance in his days of affluence, cases the same. Indeed he argued, and which recitals produced a very different with great show of reason, that it ought to impression on the two: for while the be rather more for one day than for five, inyounger who was of a timid and retiring asmuch as the borrower might in the fordisposition gleaned from thence nothing mer case be very fairly presumed to be in but forewarnings to shun the great world great extremity, otherwise he would not and attach himself to the quiet routine of borrow at all with such odds against him. a country life; Ralph, the elder, deduced This fact is interesting, as illustrating the from the oft-repeated tale the two morals ] secret connection and sympathy which althat riches are the only true source of hap- ways exist between great minds. Though piness and power, and that it is lawful and master Ralph Nickleby was not at that just to compass their acquisition short of i time aware of it, the class of gentlemen NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 15 before alluded to, proceed on just the same "Fiddle," said Mrs. Nicklely. principle in a.l their transactions. " I am not altogether sure of that, m1 From what we have said of this young dear," said IMr. Nickleby. gentleman, and the natural admiration the "There's Nicholas," pursued the lady, reader will immediately conceive of his " quite a young man-it's time he was in character, it may perhaps be inferred that the way of doing something for himself'; be is to be the hero of the work which we and Kate too, poor girl, without a penny shall presently begin. Tosetthis point at in the world. Think of your brother; rest for once and for ever, we hasten to would he be what he is, if he hadn't spec undeceive them, and stride to its corn- ulated?" ienccement. "That's true," replied Mr. Nickleby. On the death of his father, Ralph Nic- " Very good, my dear. Yes. I will specu. kleby, who had been some time before late, my dear." placed in a mercantile house in London, Speculation is a round game; the playapplied himself passionately to his old pur- ers see little or nothing of their cards at sui.t of money getting, in which he speedily first starting; gains may be great-and so became so buried and absorbed, that he may losses. The run of luck went against quite forgot his brother for many years; Mr. Nickleby; a mania prevailed, a buband if at times a recollection of his old ble burst, four stock-brokers took villa resiplay-fellow broke upon him through the dences at Florence, four hundred nobodies haze in which he lived-for gold conjures were ruined, and among them Mr. Nicup a mist about a man more destructive of kleby. all his old senses and lulling to his feelings'The very house I live in," sighed the than the fumes of charcoal-it brought poor gentleman, " may be taken from me along with it a companion thought, that if to-morrow. Not an article of my old fur they were intimate he would want to bow- niture, but will be sold to strangers!" row money of him; and Mr. Ralph Nickle- The last reflection hurt him so much, by shrugged his shoulders, and said things that he took at once to his bed, apparently were better as they were. resolved to keep that at all events. As for Nicholas, he lived a single man " Cheer up, Sir!" said the apothecary. on the patrimonial estate until he grew "You mustn't let yourself be cast down, tired of living alone, and then he took to Sir," said the nurse. wife the daughter of a neighbouring gen- " Such things happen every day," re. tleman with a dower of one thousand marked the lawyer. pounds. This good lady bore him two "And it is very sinful to rebel against children, a son and a daughter, and when them," whispered the clergyman. the son was about nineteen, and the daugh- " And what no man with a family ought ter fourteen, as near as we can guess-im- to do," added the neighbours. partial records of young ladies' ages being, Mr. Nickleby shook his head, and mo. before the passing of the new act, nowhere tioning them all out of the room, embraced preserved in the registries of this country his wife and children, and having pressed -Mr. Nickleby looked about him for the them by turns to his languidly beating means of repairing his capital, now sadly heart, sunk exhausted on his pillow. They reduced by this increase in his family and were concerned to find that his reason the expenses of their education. went astray after this, for he babbled for a " Speculate with it," said Mrs. Nickleby. long time about the generosity and good"S!:,ec-u —late, my dear?" said Mr. ness of his brother, and the merry old Nickleby, as though in doubt. times when they were at school together. "Why not!" asked Mrs. Nickleby. This fit of wandering past, he solemnly "Because, my dear, if we should lose it," commended them to Onewho never desertrehjiESd Mr. Nickleby, who was a slow and ed the widow or her fatherless children, time-taking speaker, "if we should _ose and smiling gently on them, turned upon it, we shall no longer be able to live my his face, and observed, that he thought he /e a" could fall asleep. 16 NICHOLAS NLCKLEBY. CHAPTER II. OF MR. RALPH NICKLEBY, AND HIS ESTABLISHMENT, AND HIS UNDERTAKINGS, AND OF A GREAT JOINT STOCK COMPANY OF VAST NATIONAL IMPORT. ANCE. MR. RALPH NICKLEBY was not, strictly seen by the passer-by lounging at the castpeaking, what you wouldcall a merchant; ments, and smoking fearfully. Sounds of neither was he a banker, nor an attorney, gruff voices practising vocal music invade nor a special pleader, nor a notary. ile the evening's silence, and the fumes of was certainly not a tradesman, and still choice tobacco scent the air. There, snuff less could he lay any claim to the title of and cigars, and German pipes and flutes, a professional gentleman; for it would and violins, and' violincellos, divide the suhave been impossible to mention any re- permacy between them. It is the region cognized profession to which he belonged. of song and smoke. Street bands are on Nevertheless, as he lived in a spacious their mettle in Golden Square.and itinerant house in Golden Square, which, in addition glee-singers quaver involuntarily as they to a brass plate upon the street-door, had raise their voices within its boundaries. another brass plate two sizes and a half This would not seem a spot very well smaller upon the left hand door-post, sur- adapted to the transaction of business; but mounting a brass model of an infant's fist Mr. Ralph Nickleby had lived there notgrasping a fragment of a skewer, and dis- withstanding for many years, and uttered playing the word " Office," it was clear that no complaint on that score. IIe knew noMr. Ralph Nickleby did, or pretended to body round about him, although he enjoyed do, business of some kind; and the fact, if the reputation of being immensely rich. it required any further circumstantial evi- The tradesmen held that he was a sort of dence,was abundantly demonstrated by the lawyer, and the other neighbours opined diurnal attendance, between the hours of that hie was a kind of general agent; both half-past nine and five, of a sallow-faced of which guesses were as correct and deman in rusty brown, who sat upon an un- finite as guesses about other people's affairs commonly hard stool in a species of but.- usually are, or need to be. ler's pantry at the end of the passage, and MIr. Ralph Nickleby sat in his private always had a pen behind his ear when he office one morning, ready dressed to walk answered the bell. abroad. He wore a bottle-green spencer, Although a few members of the graver over a blue coat; a white waistcoat grey professions live about Golden Square, it is mixture pantaloons, and Wellington boots not exactly in anybody's way to or from drawn over them; the corner of a smallanywhere. It is one of the squares that plaited shirt frill struggled out, as if insisthave been; a quarter of the town that has ing to show itself, from between his chin gone down in the world, and taken to let- and the top button of his spencer, and the ting lodgings. Many of its first and se- garment was not made low enough to concond floors are let furnished to single gen- ceal a long gold watch-chain, composed of tlemen, and it takes boarders besides. It a series of plain rings, which had its be. is a great resort of foreigners. The dark- ginning at the handle of a gold repeater in complexioned men who wear large rings, Mr. Nickleby's pocket, and its termination and heavy watch-guards and bushy whisk- in two little keys, one belonging to the ers, and who congregate under the Opera watch itself, and the other to some patent volonnade, and about the box-office in the padlock. IIe wore a sprinkling of powder season, between four and five in the after- upon his head, as if to make himself lo, k noon, when Mr. Seguin gives away the or- benevolent; but if that were his purp,(,;, ders,-all live in Golden Square, or within he would have perhaps done better to p,,va street of it. Two or three violins and a der his countenance also, for there was wind instrur ent from the Opera band, re- something in its very wrinkles, and in his side within its precints. Its boarding- cold restless eye, which seemed to tell of houses are musical, and the notes of pianos cinning that would announce itself in spite and harps float in the evening time around of him. However this might be, there he the head of the mournful statue, the guar- was; and as he was all alone, neither the dian genius of a little wilderness of shrubs, powder nor the wrinkles, nor the eyes, had in the centre of the square. On a sum- the smallest effect, good oi bad, upon any mer's night windows are thrown open, and body just then, and are consequently no groups of swarthy mustachio'd men are business of ours just now. NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 17 3Mr. Nickleby closed an account-book for wear, very much to" small, and placed which lay on his desk, and throwing him- upon such a short allc wance of buttons self back in his chair, gazed with an air of that it was quite marvelous how he conabstraction through the dirty window. trived to keep them on. Some London houses have a melancholy "Was that half past twelve, Noggs?" little plot of ground behind them, usually said Mr. Nickleby in a sharp and grating fenced in by four high whitewashed walls, voice. and frowned upon by stacks of chimneys, in "Not more than five-and-twenty minutes which there withers on from year to year by the-" Noggs was going to add publica crippled tree, that makes a show of put- house clock, but recollecting himself, he ting forth a few leaves late in autumn, substituted "regular time." when other trees shed theirs, and drooping " My watch has stopped," said Mr. Nio. in the effort, lingers on all crackled and kleby; " I don't know from what cause.' smoke-dried till the following season, when " Not wound up," said Noggs. it repeats the same process, and perhaps if " Yes it is," said Mr, Nickleby. the weather be particularly genial, even " Over-wound, then," rejoined Noggs. tempts some rheumatic sparrow to chirrup " That can't very well be," observed Mr. in its branches. People sometimes call Nickleby. these dark yards " gardens;" it is not sup- "Must be," said Noggs. posed that they were ever planted, but "Well!" said Mr. Nickleby, putting the rather that they are pieces of unreclaimed repeater back in his pocket; " perhaps it land with the withered vegetation of the is." original brick-field. No man thinks of Noggs gave a peculiar grunt, as was his walking in this desolate place, or of turn- custom at the end of all disputes with his ing it to any account. A few hampers, master, to imply that he (Noggs) triumphhalf-a-dozen broken bottles, and such-like ed, and (as he rarely spoke to anybody unrubbish, may be thrown there when the less somebody spoke to him) fell into a tenant first moves in, but nothing more; grim silence, and rubbed his hands slowly and there they remain till he goes away over each other, cracking the joints of his -again, the damp straw taking just as long fingers, and squeezing them into all posto moulder as it thinks proper, and min- sible distortions. The incessant performgling with the scanty box, and stunted ance of this routine on every occasion, and everbrowns, and broken flower-pots, that the communication of a fixed and rigid are scattered mournfully about-a prey to look to his unaffected eye, so as to make " blacks" and dirt. it uniform with the other, and to render it It was into a place of this kind that Mr. impossible for anybody to determine where R;tlph Nickleby gazed as he sat with his or at whathe was looking, were two among hands in his pockets looking out at win- the numerous peculiarities of Mt. Noggs, dow. He had fixed his eyes upon a dis- which struck an inexperienced observer torted fir-tree, planted by some former at first sight. tenant in a tub that had once been green, " I am going to the London Tavern this and left there years before, to rot away morning," said Mr. Nickleby. piecemeal. There was nothing very in- "Public meeting?" inquired Noggs. viting in the object, but Mr. Nickleby was Mr. Nickleby nodded. "I expect a wrapt in a brown study, and sat contem- letter from the solicitor respecting that plating it with far greater attention than, mortgage of Ruddle's. If it comes at all, in a more conscious mood, he would have it will be here by the two o'clock delivery. deigned to bestow upon the rarest exotic. I shall leave the city about that time and At length his eyes wandered to a little walk to Charing-Cross on the left-hand side dirty window on the left, through which of the way; if there are any letters, come the face of the clerk was dimly visible, and and meet me, and bring them with you." that worthy chancing to look up, he beck- Noggs nodded; and as he nodded, there oned him to attend. came a ring at the office bell: the master In obedience to this summons the clerk looked up from his papers, and the clert got off the high stool, (to which he had calmly remained in a stat anary position communicated a high polish, by countless "The bell," said Noggs, as though an getting, off and on,) and presented himself explanation; " at home?" in Mr. Nickleby's room. He was a tall "Yes." man of middle-age, with two goggle eyes, "To anybody?" whereof one was a fixture, a rubicund "Yes." nose, a cadaverous face, and a suit of "To the tax-gatherer?" clothes (if the term be allowable when " No I Let him call again." they suited him not at all) much the worse Noggs gave vent to his usual grunt, a 2* 1s $ NICHOLAS NICKLEAY. muchb as to say " I thought so!" and, the " Oh, of course not." ring being repeated, went to the door, " But as I wanted a clerk just tl en, to whence he presently returned ushering in, open the door and so forth, I took him out by the name of Mr. Bonney, a pale gentle- of charity, and he has remained with me man in a violent hurry, who, with his hair ever since. He is a little mad, I think," standing up in great disorder all over his said Mr. Nickleby, calling up a charitable head, and a very narrow white cravat look, " but he is useful enough, poor crea. tied loosely round his throat, looked as if ture-useful enough." he had been knocked up in the night and The kind-hearted gentleman omitted to had not dressed himself since. add that Newman Noggs, being utterly "My dear Nickleby," said the gentle- destitute, served him for rather Tess than man, taking off a white hat which was so the usual wages of a boy thirteen; and full of papers, that it would scarcely stick likewise failed to mention in his hasty upon his head, " there's not a moment to chronicle, that his eccentric taciturnity lose; I have a cab at the door. Sir Mat- rendered him an especially valuable perthew Pupker takes the chair, and three son in a place where much business was members of Parliament are positively done, of which it was desirable no mention coming. I have seen two of them safely should be made out of doors. The other out of bed; and the third, who was at gentleman was plainly impatient to be Crockford's all night, has just gone home gone, however, and as they hurried into to put a clean shirt on, and take a bottle the hackney cabriolet immediately afteror two of soda-water, and will certainly be wards, perhaps Mr. Nickleby forgot to with us in time to address the meeting. mention circumstances so unimportant. He is a little excited by last night, but There was a great bustle in Bishopsgato never mind that; he always speaks the Street Within, as they drew up, and (it stronger for it." being a windy day) half a dozen men were " It seems to promise pretty well," said tacking across the road under a press of Mr. Ralph Nickleby, whose deliberate paper, bearing gigantic announcements manner was strongly opposed to the viva- that a Public Meeting would be holden at city of the other man of business. one o'clock precisely, to take into coisid " Pretty well!" echoed Mr. Bonney; eration the propriety of petitioning Parlia. "It's the finect idea that was ever started. ment in favour of the United Metropolitan'United Metropolitan Improved Hot Muf- Improved Hot Muffin and Crumpet Baking fin and Crumpet Baking and Punctual De- and Punctual Delivery Company, capital livery Company. Capital, five millions, five millions, in five hundred thousand in five hundred thousand shares of ten shares of ten pounds each; which sums pounds each.' Why the very name will get were duly set forth in fat black figures of the shares up to a premium in ten days." considerable size. Mr. Bonney elbowed " And when they are at a premium," his way briskly up stairs, receiving in his said Mr. Ralph Nickleby, smiling. progress many low bows from the waiters " When they are, you know what to.do who stood on the landings to show the with them as well as any man alive, and way, and followed by Mr. Nickleby, dived how to back quietly out at the right time," into a suite of apartments behind the said Mr. Bonney, slapping the capitalist great public room, in the second of which familiarly on the shoulder. " By the bye, was a business-looking table, and several what a very remarkable man that clerk of business-looking people. yours is." Hear!" cried a gentleman with a dou"Yes, poor devil!" replied Ralph, draw- ble chin, as Mr. Bonney presented himself, ing on his gloves. " Though Newman "Chair, gentlemen, chair." Noggs kept his horses and hounds once." The new comers were received with uni "Ay, ay?"'said the other carelessly. versal approbation, and Mr. Bonney bus "Yes," continued Ralph, "and not many tled up to the top of the table, took off hii years ago either; but he squandered his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, and money, invested it anyhow, borrowed at knocked a hackney-coachman's knock on interest, and irlhort made first a thorough the table, with a little hammer; whereat fool of hiumselT, and then a beggar. He several gentlemen cried " Hear!" and took to drinking, and had a touch of para- nodded slightly to each other, as much as lysis, and then came here to borrow a to say what spirited conduct that was. pound, as in his better days I had-had-" Just at this moment a waiter feverish with "Had done business with him," said agitation, tore into the rocim, and throwMr. Bonney with a meaning look. ing the door open with a Irash, shouted "Just so," replied Ralph; "I couldn't'Sir Matthew Pupker." had it, you know" The committee stood up and clapped NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. Is their hands for joy; and while they were I blows with their truncheons,after the manclapping them in came Sir Matthew Pup- h ner of that ingenious actor, Mr. Punch, ker, attended by two live members of Par- whose brilliant example, both in the fashion liaiment, one Irish and one Scotch, all of his weapons and their use, this branch smiling and bowing, and looking so plea- of the executive occasionally follows. sant that it seemed a perfect marvel how Several very exciting skirmishes were any man could have the heart to vote in progress, when a loud shout attracted against them. Sir Matthew Pupker espe- the attention even of the belligerents, and cially, who had a little round head with a then there poured on to the platform, from flaxen wig on the top of it, fell into such a a door at the side, a long line of gentlemen paroxym of bows that the wig threatened with their hats off, all looking behind them, to be jerked off every instant. When these and uttering vociferous cheers; the cause symptoms had in some degree subsided, the whereof was sufficiently explained when gentlemen who were on speaking terms Sir Matthew Pupker and the two other real with Sir Matthew Pupker, or the two other members of Parliament came to the front, members, crowded round them in three amidst deafening shouts, and testified to little groups,near one or other of which the each other in dumb motion that they had gentlemen who were not on speaking terms never seen such a glorious sight as that in with Sir Matthew Pupker or the two other the whole course of their public career. members, sto&d lingering, and smiling, and At length, and at last, the assembly left rubbing their hands, in the desperate hope off shouting, but Sir Matthew Pupker beof something turning up which might bring ing voted into the chair, they underwent a them into notice. All this time Sir Mat- relapse which lasted five minutes. This thew Pupker and the two other members over, Sir Matthew Pupker went on to say were relating to their separate circles what what must be his feelings on that great the intentions of government were about occasion, and what must be that occasion taking up the bill, with a full account of in the eyes of the world, and what must what the govornment had said in a whisper be the intelligence of his fellow-countrythe last time they dined with it, and how men before him, and what must be the the government had been observed to wink wealth and respectability of his honourwhen it said so; from which premises they able friends behind him; and lastly, what were at no loss to draw the conclusion, that must be the importance to the wealth, the if the government had one object more at happiness, the comfort, the liberty, th heart than another, that one object was the very existence of a free and great people, welfare and advantage of the United Me- of such an Institution as the United Metropolitan Improved Hot Muffin and Crum- tropolitan Improved Hot Muffin and Crumpet Baking and Punctual Delivery Com- pet Baking and Punctual.Delivery Company. pany. Meanwhile, and pending the arrange- Mr. Bonney then presented himself to ment of the proceedings and a fair division move the first resolution, and having run of the speechifying, the public in the large his right hand through his hair, and plantroom were eyeing, by turns, the empty ed his left in an easy manner in his ribs, platform, and the ladies in the Music Gal- he consigned his hat to the care of the lery. In these amusements the greater gentleman with the double chin (who actportion of them had been occupied for a ed as a species of bottle-holder to the oracouple of hours before; as the most agree- tors generally), and said he would read able diversions pall upon the taste on a too to them the first resolution-" That this protracted enjoyment of them, the sterner meeting views with alarm and apprehenspirits now began to hammer the floor with sion, the existing state of the Muffin Trade their boot-heels, and to express their dis- in this Metropolis and its neighbourhood; satisfaction by various hoots and cries. that it considers the Muffin Boys, as at These vocal exertions, emanating from the present constituted, wholly undeserving people who had been there longest, natur- the confidence of the public, and that it ally proceeded from those who were nearest deems the whole Muffin system alike pie. to the platform and furthest from the po- judicial to the health and morals of the licemen in attendance,who having no great people, and subversive of the best interests mind to fight their way through the crowd, of a great commercial and mercantile combut entertaining nevertheless a praisewor- munity." The honourable gentleman made thy desire to do something to quell the dis- a speech which drew tears from the eyEs turbance, immediately began to drag forth of the ladies, and awakened the liveliest by the coat tails and collars all the quiet emotions in every individual present. He people near the door; at the same time had visited the houses of the poor in the dealing out various smart and tingling various districts bf London, and had found S0 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. them destitute of the slightest vestige of a such deep pathetics, that he knocked the muffin, which there appeared too much first speaker clean out of the course in no reason to believe some of these indigent time. You might hlave heard a pin fall — persons did not taste from year's end to a pin! a feather-as he described the cruyear's end. He had found that among elties inflicted on muffin boys by their mas muffin sellers there existed drunkenness, ters, which he very wisely urged were in debauchery, and profligacy, which he attri- themselves a sufficient reason for the esbuted to the debasing nature of their em- tablishment of that inestimable company. ployment as at present exercised; he had It seemed that the unhappy youths were found the same vices among the poorer nightly turned out into the wet streets at claes of people who ought to be muffin the most inclement periods of the year, to consumers, and this he attributed to the wander about in darkness and rain-or it despair engendered by their being placed might be hail or snow-for hours together, beyond the reach of that nutritious article, without shelter, food, or warmth; and let which drove them to seek a false stimulant the public never forget upon the latter in intoxicating liquors. He would under- point, that while the muffins were provided take to prove before a committee of the with warm clothing and blankets, the boys House of Commons, that there existed a were wholly unprovided for, and left to combination to keep up the price of muf- their own miserable resources. (Shame!) fins, and to give the bellman a monopoly; The honourable gentleman relate done case he would prove it by bellmen at the bar of a muffin boy, who having been exposed of that House; and he would also prove, to this inhuman and barbarous system that these men corresponded with each for no less than five years, at length fell a other by secret words and signs, as victim to a cold in the head, beneath which " Snooks," "'Walker," " Ferguson," "Is he gradually sunk until he fell into a perMurphyright?" and many others. Itwas spiration and recovered; this he could this melancholy state of things that the vouch for, on his own authority, but he had Company proposed to correct; firstly, by heard (and he had no reason to do)ubt the prohibiting under heavy penalties all pri- fact) of a still more heart-rending and vate muffin trading of every description; appalling circumstance. He had heard of and secondly, by themselves supplying the the case of an orphan muffin boy, who public generally, and the poor at their own having been run over by a hackney carhomvs, with muffins of first quality at re- riage, had been removed to the hospital, duced prices. It was with this object that had undergone the amputation of his leg a bill had been introduced into Parliament below the knee, and was now actually purby their patriotic chairman Sir Matthew suing his occupation on crutches. FounPupker; it was this bill that they had met tain of justice, were these things to last! to support; it was the supporters of this This was the department of the subject bill who would confer undying brightness that took the meeting, and this was the and splendour upon England, under the style of speaking to enlist their sympaname oftheUnited Metropolitan Improved thies. The men shouted, the l:adies wept Hot Muffin and Crumpet Baking and into their pocket-handkerchiefs till they Punctual Delivery Company; he would were moist, and waved them till they were add, with a capital of Five Millions, in dry; the excitement was tremendous, and five hundred thousand shares often pounds Mr. Nickleby whispered his friend that each. the shares were thenceforth at a premium Mr. Ralph Nickleby seconded the reso- of five-and-twenty per cent. lution, and another gentleman having The resolution was of course carried moved that it be amended by the insertion with loud acclamations, every man holdof the words "and crumpet" after the ing up both hands in favour of it, as he word "muffin," whenever it occurred, it would in his enthusiasm have held up was carried triumphantly; only one man both legs also, if he could have conveniin the crowd cried "No!" and he was ently accomplished it. This done, the promptly taken into custody, and straight- draft of the proposed petition was read at way borne off. length; and the petition said, as all petiIhe second resolution, which recognized tions do say, that the petitioners were the expediency of immediately abolishing very humble, and the petitioned very hon"all muffin (or crumpet) sellers, all traders ourable,and the object very virtuous, therein muffins (or crumpets) of whatsoever de- fore, (said the petition) the bill ought to scription, whether male or female, boys rt be passed into a law at once, to the evermen, ringinghand-bells or otherwise," was lasting honour and glory of that most moved by a grievous gentleman of semi- honourable and glorious Commons of Ena. clerical appearance, who went at once int; land in Parliament asscembled. NIClIOLAS NlCKLEBY. - When the gentleman who had been at spirit of poetry, and poured forthi with sBl eh Crockford's all. night, and who looked fervour, that it made one warm to look at something the worse about the eyes in him; in the course whereof heatold chu.m consequence, came forward to tell his fel- how he would, demand the extens'.on/ f low-counitrymien what a speech'he meant that great boon to his native country i* Low to make in fayvouir of that petition when- he would claim for her equal rights ini the ever it should be presented, and:how des- muffin laws as in all other laws, arid how perately he -meant to-taunt the parliament he'yet hoped to see the day when' crumif they rejected the bill; and to inform pets should be toasted in her lowly cabins, them'also that he regretted his honourable and muffin bells should ring in her rich friends had not'inserted a clause renderingI green valleys. And after him came. the the purchase of muffins and crumpets com, Scotch member, with various pleasant allupulsory upon all classes of the community, sions i to'the probable'amount of profits, which he-opposing all half measures, and which increased the good humor that the preferring to go the extreme: animal- poetry had awakened; and all.the speeches pieddged himself to propose and divide upon put together did exactly what they Ware in committee. After announcing this de- intended to -do, and established in t&e termination, the' honourabie:- gentleman hearers' minds that there was no srraf rPgrew!cular;: and as patent boots, lemon- lation so promising, or at the same t;m- X ) -- id glov'es, and fur coat collar, praiseworthy, as the United MDetiogo'titj asses ia e.s materially, there was immense Improved Hot Muffin and Crumpet B znitng laughter and ring, and morever and Punctuill Delivery:Company. such a brilliant display of ladies' pocket- So, the. petition in favour of the bl11 was handkerchiefs, as threw the grievous gen- agreed upon, and the meeting a Journed Leman quite into the shade. with acclamations, and Mr. Nioc'l.eby and And when the petition had been read the other directors went to the office to and was about to be adopted, there came lunch,; as they did every day at Ilfzpast one forward the Irish member (who was a o'clock; and to remunerate. tl,cmselves for young gentleman of ardent temperament,) which trouble (asthe compa7y wasyetin its with such a speech as only an Irish mem- infancy,) they only charged three guineas her can make, breathing the true soul and each man for every such attendance. CH[APTER IIIL M.R. RALPH NICKLEBY RECEIVES SAD TIDINGS OF HIS BROTHER, BUT BEARS UP NOBLY AGAINST THE INTELLIGENCE COMMUNICATED TO HIM. THE READER IS INFORMED HOW HE LIKED NICHOLAS, WHO IS HEREIN INTRODUCED, AND HOW KINDLY HE PROPOSED TO MAKE HIS FORTUNE AT ONCE. HAVING rendered his zealous assistance "What has come, then?" inquired Mr. towards despatching the lunch, with all Nickleby. that promptitude: and energy which are "I have," said Newman. meong the most important qualities that "What else?' demanded the master, men of business can possess, Mr. Ralph sternly. Nickleby took a cordial farewell of his fel- "This," said Newman, drawing a seallow speculators, and bent his steps west- ed letter slowly from his, pocket. " Post ward in unwonted good humour. As- he mark, Strand, black wax, black- border, passed Saint Paul's he stepped aside into woman's hand, 0.- N. in the corner.2" a doorwayto set. his watch, and with his "Black wax;" said Mr. Nickleby, glanId hand on the key and his eye on the cathe- ing at the letter. "I know something of 1dral dial, was intent apon so doing, when that ~hand, too. Newman, I. shouldn't be a man suddenly stopped before him. It surprised if my brother were dead." was Newman. Noggs. "I; "I don't think you would," said Newr " Ah! Newman," said Mr. Nickleby, man, quietly. loking up:as he pursued -his occupation. "Why not, Sir?" demanded Mr. Nio*"'The letter about the mortgage has come, kleby. has it? I thought it would." ".You never are surprised," replied "Wrong,' replied Newman. Newman, "that's all." "What I and nobody called respecting Mr. Nickleby snatched the letter from it?" inquired Mr. Nickleby, pausing. his assistant, and fixing a cold look upon Noggs shook his head, him, opened, read it, put it in his pocket, NICHIOLAS NICKLEBY. and having now hit the time to a second, very vermilion uniform, flourlihing a sabegan winding up his watch. bre; and one of a literary character with "It is as I expected, Newman," said a high forehead, a pen and ink, six books, Mr. Nickleby, while he was thus engaged. and a curtain. There was moreover a " He is dead. Dear me. Well, that's a touching representation of a young lady sudden thing. I shouldn't have thought reading a manuscript in an unfathomable it, really." With these touching expres- forest, and a charming whole length of sions of sorrow, Mr. Nickleby replaced his a large-headed little boy, sitting on a watch in his fob, aad fitting on his gloves stool with his legs fore-shortened to the te a nicety, turned upon his way, and size of salt-spoons. Besides these works walked slowly westward with his hands of art, there were a great many heads of behind him. old ladies and gentlemen smirking at each "Children alive?" inquired Noggs, other out of blue and brown skies, and an stepping up to him. elegantly-written card of terms with an " fWhy, that's the very thing," replied embossed border. Mr. Nickleby, as though his thoughts Mr. Nickleby glanced at these frivoliwere about them at that moment. "They ties with great contempt, and gave a are both alive." double knock, which having been thrice "Both?" repeated Newman Noggs, in repeated was answered by a servant girl a low voice. with an uncommonly dirty face. " And the widow too," added Mr. " Is Mrs. Nickleby at home, girl?" deNickleby, " and all three in London, con- manded Ralph, sharply. found them; all three here, Newman." " Her name ain't Nickleby," said the Newman fell a little behind his master, girl, " La Creevy, you mean." and his face was curiously twisted as by Mr. Nickleby looked very indignant at a spasm, but whether of paralysis or the handmaid on being thus zorrected, grief, or inward laughter, nobody but him- and demanded with much asperity what self could possibly explain. The expres- she meant; which she was about to state, eion of a man's face is commonly a help when a female voice, proceeding firom a to his thoughts, or glossary on his speech; perpendicular staircase at the end of the blut the countenance of Newman Noggs, passage, inquired who was wanted. in his ordinary moods, was a problem " Mrs. Nickleby," said Ralph. which no stretch of ingenuity could solve. " It's the second floor, Hannah," said " Go home!" said Mr. Nickleby after the same voice; " what a stupid thing they had walked a few paces, looking you areI Is the second floor at hone?" round at the clerk as if he were his dog. " Somebody went out just now, but I The words were scarcely uttered when think it was the attic, which had been a Newman darted across the road, slunk cleaning of himself," replied the girl. among the crowd, and disappeared in an "You had better see," said the invisible instant. female. "Show the gentleman where " Reasonable, certainly!" muttered Sir. the bell is, and tell him he mustn't knock Nickleby to himself, as he walked on, double knocks for the second floor; I can't "very reasonable! My brother never did allow a knock exceptwhen the bell's broke, anything for me, and I never expected it; and then it must be two single ones." the breath is no sooner out of his body " Here," said Ralph, walking in withthan I am to be looked to, as the support. out more parley, " I beg your pardon; is of a great hearty woman and a grown that Mrs. La what's-her-name?" boy and girl. What are they to me? I "Creevy-La Creevy," replied' the never saw them." voice, as a yellow head-dress bobbed over Full of these and many other reflections the banisters. of a similar kind, Mr. Nickleby made the " I'll speak to you a moment, ma'amn, best of his way to the Strand, and refer- with your leave," said Ralph. ring to his letter as if to ascertain the The voice replied that the gentleman number of the house he wanted, stopped was to walk up; but he had walked up at a private door about half-way lown before it spoke, and stepping into.the first that crowded thoroughfare. floor, was received by the wearer of the A miniature painter lived there, for yellow head-dress, who had a gown to there was a large gilt frame screwed correspond, and was of much the saine upon the street-door, in which were dis- colour herself. Miss La Creevy was a played, upon a black velvet ground, two mincing young lady of fifty, and Miss La portraits of naval dress coats with faces Creevy's apartment was the gilt frame looking out of them and telescopes at- down stairs on a larger scale and sometached; one of a young gentleman in a thing dirtier. NICHOLAS NICKLEB Y. 23 "Hem!" said Miss La Creevy, cough-i "'Only from week to week,' rephied ing delicately behind her black silk mit-I Miss La Creevy. "Mrs. Nickleby paid,tn. "A miniature, I presume. A very, the first week ill 9,avance." strongly-marked countenance forthe pur- "Then you had better get them out at pose, Sir. Have you ever sat before?" the end of it," said Ralph. " They can't "You mistake my purpose, I see, do better than.go back to the country, Ma'am," replied Mr. Nickleby, in his ma'am; they are in every body's way usual blunt fashion. " I have no money here." t) throw away on miniatures, ma'am, and "Certainly," said Miss La Creevy, rubnobody to give one to (thank God) if I bing herhands; "if Mrs. Nicklebytook the'i:d. Seeing you on the stairs, I wanted apartments without the means of paying to a;k a question of you, about some for them, it was very unbecoming a lady." lodgers here." " Of course it was, ma'am," said Ralph. Miss La Creevy coughed once more- " And naturally," continued Miss La this cough was to conceal her disappoint- Creevy, " I who am at present —hem-an merit —and said, "Oh, indeed!" inprotected female, cannot afford to lose;' I infer from what you said to your *y the apartments." servant, that the floor above belongs to " Of course you can't, ma'am," replied you, ma'am?" said Mr. Nickleby. Ralph. Yes it did, Miss La Creevy replied. "Though at the same time," added Ariss The upper part of the house belonged to,a Creevy, who was plainly wavering beher, and as she had no necessity for the:rween her good-nature and her interest, becond-floor rooms just then, she was in " I have nothing whatever to say against the habit of letting them. Indeed, there the lady, who is extremely pleasant and was a lady from the country and her two affable, though, poor thing, she seems terchildren in them, at that present speaking. ribly low in her spirits; nor against the "A widow, ma'am?" said Ralph. young people either, for nicer, or better"Yes, she is a widow," replied the lady. behaved young people cannot be." " A poor widow, ma'am?" said Ralph, " Very well, ma'am," said Ralph, turnwith a powerful emphasis on that little ing to the door, for these econmiums on adjective which conveys so much. poverty irritated him; "I have done my "Well, I am afraid she is poor," re- duty, and perhaps more than I ought: of joined Miss La Creevy. course nobody will thank me for saying " I happen to know that she is, ma'am," what I have." said Ralph. "Now what business has a "1 am sure I am very much obliged to poor widow in such a house as this, you at least, Sir," said Miss La Creevy in ma'am?" a gracious manner. " Would you do me " Very true," replied Miss La Creevy, the favour to look at a few specimens of not at all displeased with this implied my portrait painting." compliment to the apartments. " Exceed- " You're very good, ma'am," said Mr. ingly true." Nickleby, making off with great speed; " I know her circumstances intimately, " but as I have a visit to pay up stairs, and ma'am," said Ralph; " in fact, I am a re- my time is precious, I really can't." lation of the family; and I should recom- " At any other time when you are pass mend you not to keep them here, ma'am." ing, I shall be most happy," said Miss La " I should hope, if there was any in- Creevy. "Perhaps you will have the compatibility to meet the pecuniary obli- Kindness to take a card of terms with you? gations," said Miss La Creevy with an- Thank you-good morning." other cough, "that the lady's family "Good morning, ma'am," said Ralph, would —-" shutting the door abruptly after him to "N' o they wouldn't, ma'am," interrupt- prevent any further conversation. " Now ed Ralph, hastily. "Don't think it." for my sister-in-law. Bah!" "If I am to understand that," said Climbing up another perpendicular flight,Miss La Creevy, " the case wears a veryj composed with great mechanical ingenuity different appearance." I of nothing but corner stairs, Mr. Ralph " You may understand it then, ma'am," Nickleby stopped to take breath on the said Ralph, "and make your arrangements landing, when he was overtaken by the accordingly. I am the family, ma'am- handmaid, whom the politeness of Miss at least, I believe I am the only relation La Creevy had de patched to announce they have, and I think it right that you him, and who had apparently been making hould know Ican't support them in their a variety of unsuccessful attempts since travagances. How long have they their last interview, to wipe her dirty fae these lodgings for ". lean upon an apron much dirtier. 2 NICHOLAS NICKLbBY.' What name?" said the girl. ed with anger, "I shall not look to you "Nickleby," replied Ralph. to make it more." "Oh! iMrs. Nickleby," said the girl, " Nicholas, my dear, recollect ycucthrowing open the door, "here's MIr. Nic- self," remonstrated Mrs. Nickleby. kleby." " Dear Nicholas, pray," urged the A lady in deep mourning rose as Mr. young lady. lRalph Nickleby entered, but appeared in-' Iold your tongue, Sir," said Ralph. capable of advancing to meet him, and " pon my word i Fine beginnings, M'rs leant upon the arm of a slight but very Nickleby-fine beginnings." beautiful girl of about seventeen, who had!Mrs. Nlickleby made no other reply thaa been sitting by her. A Jouth, who ap- entreating Nicholas by a gesture to keep peared a year or two ol er, stepped for- silent, and the uncle and nephew looked at ward and saluted Ralph 4s his uncle. each other for some seconds without speak"Oh," growled Ralph, with an ill-fia- ing. The face of the old man was stern, vored frown, "you are Nicholas, I sup- hard-featurod and forbidding; that of the pose?" young one open, handsome, and ingenuous. "That is my name, Sir," replied the The old man's eye was keen with the youth. twinklings of avarice and cunnin,; the "' Put my hat down," said Ralph, im- young man's bright with the light of intelperiously. "Well, ma'am, how do you ligence and spirit. Iis figure was somelo? You must bear up against sorrow, what slight, but manly and well-formed; ma'am; I always do." and apart from all the grace of youth and " Mine was no common loss!" said Mrs. comeliness, there was an emanation front Nickleby, applying her handerchief to the warm young heart in his look and her eyes. bearing which kept the old man down. "It was no uncommon loss, ma'am," tHowever striking such a contrast as this returned Ralph, as he coolly unbuttoned may le to lookers-on, none ever feel it with his spencer. "Husbands die every day, half the keenness or acuteness of perfectioo ma'am, and wives too." with which it strikes to the very soul of "Andbrothers also, Sir," said Nicholas, hinm whose inferiority it marks. It gtalled with a glance of indignation. Ralph to the heart's core, and he hated " Yes, Sir, and puppies, and pug-dogs Nicholas from that hour. likewise," replied his uncle, taking a chair. The mutual inspection was at length "You didn't mention in your letter what brought to a close by Ralph withdrawing my brother's complaint was, ma'am." his eyes with a great show of disdain, and The doctors could attribute it to no calling Nicholas "a boy." This word is particular disease," said Mrs. Nickleby, much used as a term of reproach by elderly shedding tears. " We have too much rea- gentlemen towards theirjuniors, probably son to fear that he died of a broken heart." with the view of deluding society into the "Pooh!" said Ralph, "there's no such belief that if they could be young again, thing. I can understand a man's dying of they wouldn't on any account. a broken neck, or suffering from a broken "Well, ma'am," said Ralph impatiently, arm, or a broken head, or a broken leg, or " the creditors have administered, you tell a broken nose; but a broken heart-non- me, and there's nothing left for you?" sense, it's the cant of the day. If a man " Nothing," replied Mrs. Nickleby. 3an't pay his debts, he dies of a broken " And you spent what little money you heart, and his widow's a martyr." had, in coming all the wavto London. to see " Some people, I believe, have no hearts what I could do for you?" pursued Ralph. to break," observed Nicholas, quietly. "I hoped," faltered Mrs. Nickleby, " IIow old is this boy, for God's sake?" " that you might have an opportunity of inquired Ralph, wheeling back his chair, doing something for your brother's childand surveying his nephew from head to ren. It was his dying wish that I should foot with intense scorn. appeal to you in their behalf." " Nicholas is very nearly nineteen," re- " I don't know how it is," muttered plied the widow. Ralph, walking up and down the r nm "Nineteen, eh i" saidRalph," and what "but whenever a man dies without an.lV do you mean to do for your bread, Sir?" property of his own, he always seems to "Not to live upon my mother," replied think he has a right to dispose of other Nicholas. his heart swelling as he spoke. people's. What is your daughter fit for, "You'd have little enough to live upon, m a'am?" if you did," retorted the uncle, eveing "Kate has been well educated," sobbed him contemptuously. Mrs. Nickleby. " Tell your uncle, my dear, " W hatever it b " saiC Nilc.l as, fgl'bh- how far you went in French and extras.' NICIIOLAS NICKLEBY. 25 The poor girl was about to mutter forth on one occasion: which was a strictly vesomething, when her uncle stopped her racious statement, insomuch as he had very unceremoniously. only acted upon it once, and had ruined "We must try and get you apprenticed himself in consequence. at some boarding-school," said Ralph. Mr. Ralph Nickleby heard all this with "You have not been brought up too deli- a half smile; and when the widow had fincately for that, I hope 9" ished, quietly took up the subject where it " No, indeed, uncle," replied the weep- had been left before the above outbreak. ilg girl. "I will try to do anything that "Are you willing to work, Sir?" he in, will gain me a home and bread." quired, frowning on his nephew. " Well, well," said Ralph, a little soft- " Of course I am," replied Nicholas ened, either by his niece's beauty or her haughtily. distress (stretch a point, and say the latter). "Then see here, Sir," said his uncle. " You must try it, and if the life is too hard, " This caught my eye this morning, and perhaps dress-making or tambour-work will you may thank your stars for it." come lighter. Have you ever done any- With this exordium, Mr. Ralph Nickleby thing, Sir?" (turning to his nephew.) took a newspaper from his pocket,and after " No," replied Nicholas, bluntly. unfolding it, and looking for a short time "No, I thought not!" said Ralph. "This among the advertisements, read as follows. is the way my brother brought up his chil- "EDUCATION. --— At Mr. Wackford dren, ma'am.". Squeer's Academy, Dotheboys Hall, rt the " Nicholas has not long completed such delightful village of Dotbeboys,near Greta education as his poor father could give Bridge in Yorkshire,- youth are boarded, him," rejoined Mrs, Nickleby, "and he was clothed, booked, furnished with pocket-mothinking of." ney, provided with all necessaries, instruct"Of making somethingof him some day," ed in all languages living and dead, mathesaid Ralph. " The old story; always matics, orthography, geometry, astronomy, thinking, and never doing. If my brother trigonometry, the use of the globes, algebra had been a man of activity and prudence, single stick (if required), writing( arithmehe might have left you a rich woman, tic, fortification, and every other branch of ma' am: and if he had turned his son into classical literature. Terms, twenty guinthe world, as my father turned me, when I eas per annum. No extras, no vacations, wasn't as old as that boy by. a year and a and diet unparalleled. Mr. Squeers is in half, he would have been in a situation to town, and attends daily, from one'till four, help you, instead of being a burden upon at the Saracen's Head, Snow Hill. N. B. you, and increasing your distress. My An able assistant wanted. Annual salary, brother was a thoughtless, inconsiderate ~5. A master of Arts would be preferred." man, Mrs, Nickleby, and nobody, I am "There," said Ralph, folding the pasure, can have better reason to feel that, per again. " Let him get that situation, than you." and his fortune is made." This appeal set the widow upon thinking "But he is not a Master of Arts," said that perhaps she might have made a more Mrs. Nickleby. successful venture with her one thousand " That," replied Ralph,' that, I think, pounds, and then she began to reflect what can be got over." a comfortable sum it would have beenjust " But the salary is so small, and it is then; which dismal thoughts made her such a long way off, uncle!" faltered tears flow faster, and in the excess of these Kate. griefs she (being a well meaning woman " Hush, Kate my dear," interposed Mrs. enough, but rather weak withal) fell first Nickleby; " your uncle must know best." to deploring her hard fate; and then to re- "I say," repeated Ralph, tartly, " let maRking, with many sobs, that to be sure him get that situation, and his fortune is she had been a slave to poor Nicholas, and made. If he don't like that, let him get had often told him she might have married one for himself. Without friends, money, better (as indeed she had, very often), and recommendation, or knowledge of busithat she never knew in his life-time how ness of any kind, let him find honest enmthe money went, but that if he had confided ployment in London which will keep him in her they might all have been better off in shoe-leather, and I'll give him a thouthat day; with other bitter recollections sand pounds. At least," said Mr. Ralph common to most married ladies either du- Nickleby, checking himself, " I would if ring their coverture, or afterwards, or at I had it." both periods. Mrs. Nickleby concluded "Poor fellow!" said the young lady. by lamenting that the dear leparted had "Oh! uncle, must, we be separated se tever deigned to profit b.y hei advice, save soon I" 26 PNICHO-LAS NIORLEBY. "Don't teaze your uncle with questions of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting when he is thinking only for our good, my again. Kate will be a beautiful woman, love," said Mrs. Nickleby. -" Nicholas, and I so proud to hear them say so, and my dear, I wish you would say some- mother so happy to be with us once again, thing." and all these sad times forgotten, and —" "Yes, mother, yes," said Nicholas, who The picture was too bright a one to bear, had hitherto remained silent and absorbed and Nicholas, fairly overpowered by it, in thought. " If I am fortunate enough smiled.faintly, and burst into tears. to be appointed to this post, Sir, for which This simple family, born and bred in reI am so imperfectly qualified, what will tirement, and wholly unacquainted with become of those I leave behind?" what is called the world-a conventional " Your ir- ther and sister, Sir," replied phrase which, being interpreted, signifieth Ralph; "will be provided for in that case all the rascals in it —mingled their tears (not otherwise), by me, and placed in together at the thought of their first sepasome sphere of life in which they will be ration; and, this first gush of feeling able to be independent. That will be my over, were proceeding to dilate with all immediate care; they will not remain as the buoyancy of untried hope on the bright they are, one week after your departure, prospects before them, when Mr. Ralph I will undertake." Nickleby suggested, that if they lost time, "Then," said Nicholas, starting gaily some more fortunate candidate might deup, and wringing his uncle's hand, "I am prive Nicholas of the stepping-stone to ready to do anything you wish me. Let fortune which the advertisement pointed us try our fortune with Mr. Squeers at out, and so undermine all their air-built once; he can but refuse." castles. This timely reminder effectually " He won't do that," said Ralph. "He stopped the conversation, and Nicholas will be glad to have you on my recom- having carefully copied the address of Mr. mendation. lMake yourself of use to him, Squeers, the uncle and nephew issued and you'll rise to be a partner in the es- forth together in quest of that accomtablishment in no time. Bless me, only plished gentleman; Nicholas firmly perthink! if he were to die, Why your for- suading himselfthat he had done his reltune's made at once. ative great injustice in disliking him at. " To *be sure, I see it all," said poor first sight, and Mrs. Nickleby being at Nicholas, delighted with a thousand vi- some pains to inform her daughter that sionary ideas, that his good spirits and she was sure he was a much more kindly his inexperience were conjuring up before disposed person than he seemed, which him. "Or suppose some young noble- Miss Nickleby dutifully remarked he man who is being educated at the Hall, might very easily be. were to take a fancy to me, and get his To tell the truth, the good lady's opinion father to appoint me his travelling tutor had been not a little influenced by het when he left, and when he came back from brother-in-law's appeal to her better unthe continent, procured me some hand- derstanding, and his implied compliment some appointment. Eh! uncle?" to her high deserts; and although she had " Ah, to be sure!" sneered Ralph. dearly loved her husband and still doted "And who knows, but whewn he came on her children, he had struck so success. to see me when I was settled (as he would fully on one of those little jarring chords of. course), he might fall in love with Kate, in the human heart (Ralph was well acwho would be keeping my house, and-and quainted with its worst weaknesses, though — marry her,' eh! uncle? Who knows?" he knew nothing of its best), that she had "Who, indeed?" snarled Ralph. already begun seriously to consider her"Itow happy we should be!" cried self the amiable and suffering victim ol Nicholas with enthusiasm. "The pain her late husband's imprudence. CHAPTER IV. NICHOLAS. AND HIS UNCLE (TO SECURE THE FORTUNE WITHOUT LOSS OF TIME) WAIT UPON MR. WACKFORD SQUEERS, THE YORKSHIRE SCHOOLMASTER. SNOW HILL I What kind of a place can pie have some undefined and shadowy nothe quiet town's people who see the words tion of a place whose name is frequently emblazoned in all the legibility oftgilt let- before their eyes or often in their ears, ters and dark shading on the north-country and what a vast number of random ideas coaches, take Snow Hill to be? All peo- there must be perpetually floating about, NICHIOLAS NICKLEBY. 27 regarding this same Snow Hill! The bly because this species of humour-i now name is such a good (ne. Snow Hill — confined to Saint James's parish, where Snow Hill too, coupled with a Saracen's door knockers are preferred, as being more Head: picturing to us by a double asso- portable, and bell-wires esteemed' as conciation of ideas, something stern and rug- venient tooth-picks. Whether this be the gead. A bleak desolate tract of country, reason or not, there they are, frowning open to piercing blasts and fierce wintry upon you from each side of the gateway, storms-a dark, cold, and gl oomy heath, and the inn itself, garnished with another lonely by day, and scarcely t. be thought Saracen's Head, frowns upon you from the of by honest folks at night —a place which top of the yard; while from the door of the solitary wayfarers shun, and where despe- hind boot of all the red coaches that are rate robbers congregate; —this, or'some- standing therein, there glares a small Sathing like this, we imagine must be, the racen's Head with a twin expression to the prevalent notion of Snow Hill in those large Saracens' tHeads below, so that the remote and rustic parts, through which general appearance of the pile is of the the Saracen's Head, like some grim appa- Saracenic order. rition, rushes each day and night with When you walk up this yard, you will mysterious and ghost-like punctuality, see the booking-office on your left, apnd the holding its swift and headlong course in tower of Saint Sepulchre's church darting all weathers, and seeming to bid defiance abruptly up into the sky onyour right, and to the very elements' themselves. a gallery of bed-rooms on both sides. Just The reality is rather different, but by before you, you will observe along window no means to be despised notwithstanding. with the words "coffee-room" legibly paintThere, at the very core of London, iii the ed above it; and looking out of that winheart of its business and animation, in the dow, you would have seen in addition, if midst of a whirl of noise and motion; you had gone at the right.time, Mr. Wackstemming as it were the giant currents of ford Squeers with his hands in his pocrkts. life that flow ceaselessly on from different Mr. Squeers's appearance was not prequarters, and meet beneath its walls, possessing. IIe had but one eye, and the stands Newgate; and in that crowded popular prejudice runs in favour of two. streeton which it frowns so.arkly-within The eye he had was unquestionably usea few feet of the squalid tottering houses ful, but decidedly not ornamental, being -upon the very spot on which the venders of a greenish grey, and in shape resem of soup and fish and damaged fruit are now bling the fanlight of: a -street, door. The plying their trades-scores of human be- blank side of his face was much wrinkled ings, amidst a roar of sounds to which even and puckered up, which gave him a very the tumult of a great city is as nothing, sinister appearance, especially when he four, six, or eight strong men at a time, smiled, at which times his expression borhave been hurried violently and swiftly dered closely on the villanous. His hair from the world, when the scene has been was very fiat and shiny, save at the ends, rendered frightful with excess of human where it was brushed stiffly up from a low life; when curious eyes have glared fromr protruding forehead, which assorted well casement, and house-top, and wall and pil- with his harsh voice and coarse manner. lar, and when, in the mass of white and He was about two or three and fifty, and a upturned faces, the dying wretch, in his trifle below the middle size; he:wore a all-comprehensive look of agony, has met white neckerchief with long ends, and a not one-not one-that bore the impress suit of scholastic black, but his coat-sleeves of pity or compassion. being a great deal too long, and hi3 trouNear to the jail, and by consequence sers a great deal too short, he appeared ill near to Smithfield also, and the Compter at ease in his clothes, and as if he were in and the bustle and noise of the cityz; and a perpetual state of astonishment at findjust on that particular part of Snow. Hill ing himself so respectable. where omnibus horses going eastwards se- MSr. Squeers was standing in a box by riouslythink of falling down on purpose, one of the coffee-room fire-places, fitted and where horses in hackney cabriolets with one such table as is usually seen in going westwards not unfrequently fall by coffee-rooms, and two of extraordinary accident, is the coach-yard of the Sara- shapes and dimensions made to suit the cen's-Htead Inn. its portal guarded by two angles of the. partition. In a corner of the Saracens' headstand shoulders, which it seat was a very small deal trunk, tied was orce the pride and glory of the choice round with a scanty piece of cord; and on spirits of this metropolis to pull down at the trunk was perched-his lace-up halfnight but which have for sclme time re- boots and corduroy trowsers dangling in mained in undistirbed traniuillity possi- the air —a diminutive boy, with his shoul Isl NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. ders drawn up to his ears, and L.is hands plied Mr. Squeers, in a soft voice.'" P-t planted on his knees, who glanced timidly your handkerchief in your pocket, you l't. at the schoolmaster from time to time with tie scoundrel, or I'll murder you when the evident dread and apprehension. gentleman goes." "Half-past three,"muttered Mr.Squeers, The schoolmaster had scarcely uttered turning from the window, and looking sul- these words in a fierce whisper, when the kily at the coffee-room clock. "There stranger entered. Affecting not to see will be nobody here to-day." him, Mr. Squeers feigned to be intent upon Much vexed by this reflection, Mr. mending a pen, and offering benevolent Squeers looked at the little boy to see advice to his youthful pupil. whether he was doing anything he could "My dear child," said Mr. Squeers, " all boat him for; as he happened not to be people have their trials. This early trial doing anything at all, he merely boxed his of yours that is fit to make your little heart ears, and told him not to do it again. burst, and your very eyes come out of your "At Midsummer,"mruttered Mr.Squeers, head with crying, what is it! Nothing; resuming his complaint, " I took down ten less than nothing. Your are leaving your boys; ten twentys —two hundred pound, friends, but you will have a father in ne, I go back at eight o'clock to-morrow morn- my dear, and a mother in Mrs. Squeers. ing, and have got only three-three oughts At the delightful village of Dotheboys, an ought-three twos six-sixty pound. near Greta Bridge, in Yorkshire, where What's come of all the boys! what's pa- youth are boarded, clothed, booked, washrents got in their heads? what does it all ed, furnished with pocket-mopey, provided mean?" with all necessaries -2 Here the little boy on the top of the "It is the gentleman,'" observed the trunk gave-a violent sneeze. stranger, stopping the schoolmaster in the " Ialloa, Sir!" growled the schoolmas- rehearsal of his advertisement. "Mr. ter, turning round. " What's that, Sir?" Squeers, I believe, Sir?" "Nothing, please Sir," replied the little "The sanie, Sir, said Mr. Squeers, boy. with an assumption of extreme surprise. "'Nothing, Sir?" exclaimed Mr. Squeers. "The gentleman," said the stranger, "Please Sir, I sneezed," rejoined the "that advertised in the Times newsboy, trembling till the little trunk shook paper?" under him. -" Morning Post, Chronicle, IIerald, "Oh! sneezed, did; you?" retorted Mr. and Advertiser, regarding the Academy Squeers. "Then what did you say'no- called Dotheboys Hall at the delightful thing' for, Sir!" village of Dotheboys, near Greta Bridge, In default of a better answer to this in Yorkshire," added Mr. Squeers. " You question, the little boy screwed a couple come on business, Sir. I see by my young of knuckles into each of his eyes and be- friends. How do you do, my little gentlegan to cry, wherefore, Mr. Squeers knock- man? and how do you do, Sir?" With ed him off the trunk with a blow on one this salutation Mr. Squeers patted the side of his face, and knocked him on again heads of two hollow-eyed, small-boned litwith a blow on the other. tle boys, whom the applicant had brought " Wait till I get you down into York- with him, and waited for further coinshire, my young gentleman," said Mr. munications. Squeers, "and then I'll give you the rest. " I am in the oil and colour way. My Will you hold that noise, Sir?" name is Snawley, Sir," said the stranger. " Ye —ye-yes," sobbed the little boy, Squeers inclined his hbad as much as tc rubbing his face very hard with the Beg- say, "And a remarkable pretty name, gar's Petition in printed calico. too." " Then do so at once, Sir," said Squeers. The stranger continued. " I have been " Do you hear?" thinking, Mr. Squeers, of placing my twc As this admonition was accompanied boys at your school." with a threatening gesture, and uttered " It is not for me to say so, Sir," replied with a savage aspect, the little boy rubbed Mir. Squeers, " but I don't think you could his face harder, as if to keep the tears possibly do a better thing." back; and, beyond alternately sniffing and "Hem!" said the other. "Twenty choking, gave no further vent to his emo- pounds per annewum, I believe, Mr. tions. Squeers?" " Mr. Squeers," said the waiter, looking " Guineas," rejoined the schoolmaster, in at this juncture; "here's a gentleman with a persuasive smile. asking for you at the bar." " Pounds for two, I think, Mr. Squcers," "Show the gentleman in, Richard," re- said Mr. Snawley solemnly. NCHOIAS NICKLEBY. 29 " 1I don't think it could be done, Sir," 1 his companion looked steadily atenach other replied Squeers, as if he had never con- for a few seconds, and then exchanged a sidered the proposition before. " Let me very meaning smile. Snawley was a sleek see; four fives is twenty, double that, and flat-nosed nman, clad in sombre garmenLt deduct the-well, a pound either way shall and long black gaiters, and bearingi in his not stand betwixt us. You must reconi- countenance an expression of much mortimend me to your connection, Sir, and make fication and sanctity, so that his smiling it up that way." without any obvious reason was the more " They are not great eaters," said Mr. remarkable. Snawley. " Up to what age do you keep boys at " Oh! that doesn't matter at all," re- your school, then?" he asked at length. plied Squeers. " We don't consider the " Just as long as their friends make the lboys' appetites at our establishment." This quarterly payments to my agtent in town, was strictly true; they did not. or until such time as they run away," re" Eyry wholesome luxury, Sir, that plied Squeers. "Let us understand each Yorkthire can afford," continued Squeers; other; I see we may safely do so. What "every beautiful moral that Mrs. Squeers are these boys;-natural children?" can instil; every-in short, every comfort "No," rejoined Snawley, meeting the of a home that a boy could wish for, will gaze of the schoolmaster's one eye. " They be theirs, Mr. Snawley." an't." " should wish their morals to be par- "I thought they might be," said Squeers, ticularly attended to," said Mr. Snawley. coolly. " We have a good many of them;'"I am glad of that, Sir," replied the that boy's one." schohlrnaster, drawing himself up. "They " Him in the next box?" said Snawley. have come to the right shop for morals, Squeers nodded in the affirmative, and Sir." his companion took another peep at the " You are a moral man yourself," said little boy on the trunk, and turning round Mr. Snawley. again, looked as if he were quite disap"' I rather believe I am, Sir," replied pointed to see him so much like other boys, lqueers. and said he should hardly have thought iL; "I have the satisfaction to know you " IIe is," cried Squeers. "But about are, Sir," said Mr. Snawley. " I asked these boys of yours; you wanted to speak one of your references, and he said you to me?" were pious." "Yes," replied Snawley. " The fact is, "Well, Sir, I hope I am a little in that I am not their father, Mr. Squeers. I'm way," replied Squeers. only their father-in-law." " I hope I am also," rejoined the other. " Oh! Is that it?" said the schoolmas" Could I say a few words with you in the ter. " That explains it at once. I was next box?" wondering what the devil you were going "By all means," rejoined Squeers, with to send them to Yorkshire for. Ia! ha! a grin. "My dears, will you speak to Oh, I understand now." your new playfellow a minute or two? "You see I have married the mother," That is one of my boys, Sir. Belling his pursued Snawley; " it's expensive keeping name is,-a Taunton boy that, Sir." boys at home, and as she has a little money "' Is he, indeed?" rejoined Mr. Snawley, in her own right, I am afraid (women are looking at the poor little urchin as if he so very foolish, Mr. Squeers) that she were some extraordinary natural curiosity. might be led to squander it on them, which "'Ie goes down with me to-morrow, would be their ruin, you know." Sir," said Squeers. "That's his luggage " I see," returned Squeers, throwing that he is sitting upon now." Each boy is himself back in his chair, and waving his required to bring, Sir, two suits of clothes, hand. six shirts, six pair of stockings, two night- "And this," resumed Snawley, "has ea'l,,, two pocket-handkerchiefs, two pair made me anxious to put them to sonle of shoes, two hats, and a razor." school a good distance off, where there are "A razor!" exclaimed Mr. Snawley, as no holidays —none of those ill-judged comthey walked into the next box. " What ings home twice a year that unsettle chilfor?" dren's minds so-and where they may " To shave with," replied Squeers, in a rough it a little-you comprehend?" slow and measured tone. " The payments regular and no quesThere was not much in these three tions asked," said Squeers, nodding his words, but there must have been something head. in the manner in which they were said. to " That's it, exactly," rejoined the other, attract attention, for the schoolmaster and " Morals strictly attended to, though.'" s0 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. "Strictly," said Squeers. " I remember very well, Sir," rejoined' Not too much writing home allowed, I Squeers. "Ah! Mrs. Squeers, Sir, was as Kuppose?" said the fatb}er-in-law hesitating. partial to that lad as if he had been her "None, except a circular at Christmas, own; the attention, Sir, that was bestowed to say that they never were so happy, and upon that boy in his illness-dry toast and hope they may never be sent for," rejoined warm tea offered him every night and Squeers. morning when he couldn't swallow anyNothing could be better," said the thing-a candle in his bed-room on the father-in-law, rubbing his hands. very night he died-the best dictionary "Then, as we understand each other," sent up for him to lay his head upon. — said Squeers, "will you allow me to ask don't rogret it though. It is a pleasant you whether you consider me a highly vir- thing to reflect that one did one's duty by tuous, exemplary, and well-conducted man him." in private life; and whether, as a person Ralph smiled as if he meant anytbing whose business it is to take charge of but smiling, and looked around: at the youth, you place the strongest confidence strangers present. in my unimpeachable integrity, liberality, " These are only some pupils of mine," religious principles, and ability?" said Wackford Squeers, pointing to the "Certainly I do," replied the father-in- little boy on the trunk and the two little law, reciprocating the schoolmaster's grin. boys on the floor, who had been sltaring at " Perhaps you won't oibject to say that, each other without uttering a word, and if I make you a reference?" writhing their bodies into most renmarkable " Not the least in the world." contortions, according to the custom of lit" That's your sort," said Squeers, taking tle boys when'they first become acquainted. up a'pen; "this is doing business, and " This gentleman, Sir, is a parent who is that's what I like." kind enough to compliment me upon the Having entered Mr. Snawley's address, course of education adopted at Dotheboys the schoolmaster had next to perform the ttall, which is situated, Sir, at the delight, still more agreeable office of entering the ful village of Dotheboys, near Greta Bridge, receipt of the first quarter's payment in in Yorkshire, where youth are boarded, advance, which he had scarcely completed, i clothed, booked, washed, furnished with when another voice was heard inquiring pocket-money?-" for Mr. Squeers.'" Yes, we know all about that, Sir," in" Here he is," replied the schoolmaster; terrupted Ralph, testily. " It's in the ad-' what is it?" vertisement." " Only a matter of business, Sir," said " You are right, sir; it is in the adverRalph Nickleby, presenting himself closely tisement," replied Squeers.'followed by Nicholas. " There was an ad- " And in the matter of fact besides," invertisement of yours in the papers this terrupted Mr. Snawley. " I feel bound to mdrning?" assure you, Sir, and I am proud to have "There was, Sir. This way, if you this opportunity of assuring you, that I please," said Squeers, who had by this time consider Mr. Squeers a gentleman highgot back to the box by the fire-place. ly virtuous, exemplary, well-conducted, Won't you be seated?" and " "Why, I think I will," replied Ralph, " make no doubt of it, Sir," interrupted suiting the action to the word, and placing Ralph, checking the torrent of recomnmenhis hat on the table before him. " This is dation; "no doubt of it, at all. Suppose my nephew, Sir, Mr. Nicholas Nickleby." we come to business?" " How do you do, Sir," said Squeers. " With all my heart, Sir," rejoined Nicholas bowed: said he was very well, Squeers. "' Never postpone business,' is And seemed very much astonished at the tile very first lesson we instil into our cornu outward appearance of the proprietor of mercial pupils. Master Belling, my dear, Dotheboys HIall, as he indeed was. always remember that; do you hear?" "Perhaps you recollect me," said Ralph, "Yes, Sir," repeated Master Belling. looking narrowly at the schoolmaster. "He recollects what it is, does he?" "You paid me a small account at each said Ralph. of my half-yearly visits to town, for some " Tell the gentleman," said Sqneers. years, I think, Sir," replied Squeers. " Never," repeated Master Belling., " I did," rejoined Ralph. "'Very sgood," said Squeers; go on." " For the parents of a boy named Dorker, " Never," repeated Master Belling agai n, who unfortunately - " "Very good indeed," said Squcers. "' — unfortunately died at Dothhoeovs "Y es." Hall," said Ralph,,gishing the senltence. " l," suggested Nicholas good-naturedly. NICH1OLAS NICKLEBY. AS "Perform-business!" said Master Bel- Squeers, half imitating the sneer with ling. "Never-perform-business!" which the old gentleman %as regarding "Very well, Sir," said Squeers, darting his unconscious relative. a withering look at the culprit. " You and "I do of course;" said Nicholas eagerly. I will perform a little business on our pri- "He does, of course, you observe," said vate account, by and bye." Ralph, in the same dry, hard manner. "' If "And just now," said Ralph, "we had any caprice of temper should induce himn better transact our own, perhaps." to cast aside this golden opportunity before " If you please," said Squeers. he has brought it to perfection, I consider "Well," resumed Ralph, "it's brief myself absolved from extending any asenouh' soon broached, and I hope easily sistance to his mother and sister. Look cancluded. You have advertised for an at him, and think of the use he may be to able assistant, Sir?" you in half a dozen ways. Now the ques"Precisely so," said Squeers. tion is, whether, for some time to come at "And you really want one?" all events, he won't serve your purpose "Certainly," answered Squeers. better than twenty of the kind of people "Here he is," said Ralph. "My ne- you would get under ordinary circumphew Nicholas, hot from school, with stances. Isn't that a question for considevery thing he learnt there, fermenting in eration?" his head, and nothing fermenting in his "Yes, it is," said Squeers, answering a pocket, is just the man you want." nod of Ralph's head with a nod of his own. "I am afraid," said Squeers, perplexed "Good," rejoined Ralph. "Let me with such an application from a youth of have two words with you." Nicholas's figure, "I am afraid the young The two words were had apart, and in a man won't suit me. couple of minutes Mr. Wackford Squeers "Yes he will," said Ralph; "I know announced that Mr. Nicholas Nickleby was better. Don't be cast down, Sir; you will from that moment thoroughly nominated be teaching all the young noblemen in to, and installed in, the office o(f first as Dotheboys hIall in less than a week's time, sistant-master at Dotheboys Hall. unless this gentleman, is more obstinate "Your uncle's recommendation has done than i take him to be. it, Mr. Nickleby," said WVackford Squeers. "I fear, Sir," said Nicholas, addressing Nicholas overjoyed at his success, shook Mr. S,!ueers, " that you object to my youth, his uncle's hand warmly, and could have and my not being a Master of Arts?" worshipped Squeers upon the spot. "T''he absence of a college degree is an "Ie is an odd-looking man," thought objection," replied Squeers, looking as Nicholas. " What of that? Porson was grave as he could, and considerably puz- an odd-looking man, and so was Doctor zled, no less by the contrast between the Johnson; all these bookworms are." simplicity of the nephew and the worldly "At eight o'clock to-morrow morning, rimanner of the uncle, than by the incom- Mr. Nickleby," said Squeers, "the coach prehensible allusion to the young noble- starts. You must be here at a quarter men under his tuition. before, aA we take these boys with us." " Look here, Sir," said Ralph; " I'll put "Certainly, Sir," said Nicholas. this matter in its true light in two seconds." "And your fare down, I have paid," " If you'll have the goodness," rejoined growled Ralph. " So you'll have nothing Squeers., to do but to keep yourself warm." " This is a boy, or a youth, or a lad, or Here was another instance of his uncle's a young man, or a hobbledehoy, or what- generosity. Nicholas felt his unexpected ever you like to call him, of eighteen or kindness so much, that he could scarcely nineteen or thereabouts," said Ralph. find words to thank him; indeed, lie had "That I see," observed the schoolmas- not found half enough, when they took ter. leave of the schoolmaster and emerged " So do I," said.Mr. Snawley, thinking from the Saracen's hIead gateway. it as well to back his new friend occasion- " I shall be here in the morning to see allv. you fairly off," said Ralph. "No skulk" his father is dead, he is wholly igno- ing!" rant of the world, has no resources what- "Thank you, Sir," replied Nicholas, ever, and wants something to do," said " I never shall forget this kindness." }lalph. "I re-ommend him to this splen- " Take care you don't," replied his did establ)ishm3nt of yours, as an opening uncle. " You had better go home now, which will lead him to firtune, if he turns and pack up what you have got to pack. "t to proper account. Do you see that?"I Do you think you could find your way to "Every body must see' that," replied Golden Square firstn 83 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. "Certainly," said Nicholas, "I can'sense of the ridiculous, could not rcfrnia easily inquire." firom breaking into a smile as he inquired "Leave these papers with my clerk, whether Mr. Noggs had any commands then," said Ralph producing a small par- for him. eel, "and tell him to wait till I come Noggs shook his head and sighed; upon home." which Nicholas rose, and remarking that Nicholas cheerfully undertook the er- he required no rest, bade him good rand, and bidding his worthy uncle an af- morning. fectionate farewell, which that warm- It was a great exertion for Newman hearted old gentleman acknowledged by a Noggs, and nobody knoNws to this (lday niow growl, hastened away to execute his corn- he ever came to make it, the other party mission. being wholly unknown to him, but he drew lie found Golden Square in due course; a long breath and actually said out loud, and Mr. Noggs, who had stepped out for without once stopping, that if the young, a minute or so to the public-house, was gentleman did not object to tell, he should opening the door with a latch-key as he like to know what his uncle was going to reached the steps. do for him. "What's that?" inquired Noggs point- Nicholas had not the least objection in ing to the parcel. the world, but on the contrary was rather " Papers from my uncle," replied Nicho- pleased to have an opportunity of talkirn: las; " and you're to have the goodness to on the subjectwhich occupied his thoughts; wait till he comes home, if you please." so he sat down again, and (his sanguine "Uncle!" cried Noggs. imagination warming as he spoke) enterefd "Mr. Nickleby," said Nicholas in ex- into a fervent and glowing description of planation. all the honours and advantages to be de" Come in," said Newman. rived from his appointment at that seat Without another word he led Nicholas of learning, Dotheboys Hall. into the passage, and thence into the of- "But, what's the matter —rIre you ill?' ficial pantry at the end of it, where he thrust said Nicholas, suddenly bretking off, as him into a chair, and mounting upon his his companion, after throwing himlself into high stool, sat with his arms hanging a variety of uncouth attitl:des, thrust his straight down by his sides, gazing fixedly hands under the stool and cracked his upon him as from a tower of observation. finger-joints as if he were snapping all "'; There is no answer," said Nicholas, the bones in his hands. laying the parcel on a table beside him. Newman Noggs made no reply, but Newman said nothing, but folding his went on shrugging his shoulders and crackarms, and thrusting his head forward so as ing his finger joints, smiling horribly all to obtain a nearer view of Nicholas's face, the time, and looking steadfastly at noscanned his features closely. thing, out of the tops of his eyes, in a "No answer," said Nicholas, speaking most ghastly manner. very loud, under the impression that New- At first Nicholas thought the mysteman Noggs was deaf. rious man was in a fit, but on further conNewman placed his hands upon his sideration decided that he was in liquor, knees, and without uttering a syllable, under which circumstances he deemed it continued the same close scrutiny of his prudent'to make off at once. He looked companion's face. back when he had got the street door open. This was such a very singular proceed- Newman Noggs was still indulging in ing on the part of an utter stranger, and the same extraordinary gestures, a.id the his appearance was so extremely peculiar, cracking of his fingers sounded louil t h&an tlat Nicholas, who had a sufficiently keen eover. NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 33 CHAPTER V. NICHOLAS STARTS FOR YORKSHIRE.-OF HIS LEAVE-TAKING AND HIS FEb LG,O-TRAVELLERS, AND WHAT BEFEL THEM ON THE ROAD. IF tears dropped into a trunk were "Bless us!" exclaimed Miss La areevy, charms to preserve its owner from sorrow starting and putting her hand to her curland misfortune, Nicholas Nickleby would papers; "You're urp very early, Mr. Nie. hive commenced his expedition under most kleby." happy auspices. There was so much to be "So are you," replied Nicholas. done, and so little time to do it in, so many " It's the fine arts that bring me out of kind words to be spoken, and such bitter bed, Mr. Nickleby," returned the lady. pain in the hearts in which they rose to " I'm waiting for the light to carry out an impede their utterance, that the little pre- idea." parations for his journey were made mourn- Miss La Creevy had got up early to put fully indeed. A hundred things which the a fancy nose into a miniature of an ugly anxious care of his mother and sister deem- little boy, destined for his grandmother in ed indispensable for his comfort, Nicholas the country, who was expected to bequeath insisted on leaving behind, as they might him property if he was like the family. prove of some after use, or might be con- " To carry out an idea," repeated Miss vertible into money if occasion required. La Creevy; "and that's the great conA hundred affectionate contests on such venience of living in a thoroughfare like points as these, took place on the sad night the Strand. When I want a nose or an which preceded his departure; and, as the eye for any particular sitter, I have only to termination of every angerless dispute look out of window and wait till I get brought them nearer and nearer to the one." close of their slight preparations, Kate "Does it take long to get a nose, now?" grew busier and busier, and wept more inquired Nicholas, smiling. silently. "Why, that depends in a great measure The box was packed at last, and then on the pattern," replied Miss La Creevy. there came supper, with some little deli- " Snubs and romans are plentiful enough, ceacy provided for the occasion, and as a and there are flats of all sorts and sizes set-off against the expense of which, Kate when there's a meeting at Exeter Htall; and her mother had feigned to dine when but perfect aquilines, I am sorry to say, are Nicholas was out. The poor lad nearly scarce, and we generally use them for unichoked himself by attempting to partake forms or public characters." of it, and almost suffocated himself in af- " Indeed!" said Nicholas. " If I should fecting a jest or two, and forcing a melan- meetwith any in my travels, I'll endeavour choly laugh. Thus they lingered on till to sketch them for you." the hour of separating for the night was "You don't mean to say that you are long past: and then they found that they really going all the way down into Yorkmight as well have given vent to their real shire this cold winter's weather, Mr. Nicfeelings before, for they could not suppress kleby?" said Miss La Creevy. " I heard them, do what they would. So they let something of it last night." them have their way, and even that was "I do, indeed," replied Nicholas. "Needs a relief. must, you know, when somebody drives. Nicholas slept well till six next morn- Necessity is my driver, and that is only ing; dreamed of home, or of what was another name for the same gentleman." home once-no matter which, for things "Well, I am very sorry for it, that's all that are changed or gone will come back I can say," said Miss La Creevy; "as as they used to be, thank God, in sleep- much on your mother's and sister's account and rose quite brisk and gay. IIe wrote a as on yours. Your sister is a very pretty few lines in pencil to say the good bye young lady, Mr. Nickleby, and that is an which he was afraid to pronounce himself, additional reason why she should have and layingthem with half his scanty stock somebody to protect her. I persuaded her of money at his sister's door, shouldered to give me a sitting or two, for the streethis box and crept softly down stais. door-case. Ah! she'll make a sweet minia" Is that you, Hannah?" cried a voice ture." As Miss La Creevy spoke, she held from Miss La Creevy's sitting-room,whence up an ivory countenance intersected with shone the light of a feeble candle. very perceptible sky-blue veins, and re" It is I, Miss La Creevy," said Nicholas, garded it with so much complacency, that putting down the box and looking in. Nicholas quite envied her. NICIIOLAS NICKLEBY.'If you ever have an opportunity of " What a rare article milk is, t. be sure, showilng Kate some little kindness," said in London?" said Mr. Squeers with a sigh. Niehol huddled on his clothes, and Squeers said was injudicious, and that Mrs. Squeers meanwhile opened the shutters and blew said what Mr. Squeers said was " stuff." the candle out, when the voice of his A vast deal of searching and rummaging amiable consort was heard in the passage, succeeded, and it proving fruitless, Smike dermanding admittance. was called in, and pushed by Mrs. Squeers "Come in, my love," said Squeers. and boxed by Mr. Squeers, which course Mrs. Squeers came in, still habited in of treatment brightening his intellects, onthe primitive night-jacket which had dis- abled him to suggest that possibly Mrs. played the symmetry of her figure on the Squeers might have the spoon in her previous night, and further ornamented pocket, as indeed turned out to be the case. v ith a beaver bonnet of some antiquity, As Mrs. Squeers had previously protested, which she wore with much ease and light- however, that she was quite certain she ness upon the top of the nightcap before had not got it, Smike received another box mentioned. on the ear for presuming to contradict his "Drat the things," said the lady, open- mistress, tegether with a promise of a ing the cupboard; "I car.'t find the school sound threshing if he were not more respoon anywhere." spectful in future; so that he took nothing " Never mind it, my dear," observed very advantageous by his motion. 54 NICHOLAS NICKLEB1. " A most invaluable woman, that, Nic- were a couple of long old rickety desks kleby," said Squeers when his consort cut and notched, and inked and damaged, had hurried away, pushing the drudge in every possible way; two or three forms, before her. a detached desk for Squeers, and another "Indeed, Sir!" observed Nicholas. for his assistant. The ceiling was sup"I don't know her equal," said Squeers; ported like that of a barn, by cross beams "I do not know her equal. That woman, and rafters, and the walls were so stained Nickleby, is always the same-always the and discoloured, that it was impossible to same bustling, lively, active, saving cree- tell whether they had ever been touched tur that you see her now." with paint or whitewash. Nicholas sighed involuntarily at the But the pupils-the young noblemen! thought of the agreeable domestic pros- How the last faint traces of hope, the repect thus opened tc him; but Squeers motest glimmering of any good to'be dewas, fortunately, too much occupied with rived from his efforts in this den, faded his own reflections to perceive it. from the mind of Nicholas as he looked in " It's my way to say, when I am up in dismay around! Pale and haggard faces, London," continued Squeers, " that to lank and bony figures, children with the them boys she is a mother. But she is countenances of old men, deformities with more than a mother to them, ten times irons upon their limbs, boys of. stunted more. She does things for them boys, growth, and others whose long meagre Nickleby, that I don't believe half the mo- legs would hardly bear their stooping thers going would do for their own sons." bodies, all crowded on the view together, "I should think they would not, Sir," there were the bleared eye, the hare-lip, answered Nicholas. the crooked foot, and every ugliness or disNow, the fact was, that both Mr. and tortion that told of unnatural aversion con. Mrs. Squeers viewed the boys in the light ceived by parents for their offspring, or of of their proper and natural enemies; or, in young lives which, from the earliest dawu other words, they held and considered that of infancy, had been one horrible endu. their business and profession was to get as rance of cruelty and neglect. There were much from every boy as could by possi- little faces which should have been hand. bility be screwed out of him. On this point some, darkened with the scowl of sullen they were both agreed, and behaved in uni- dogged suffering; there was childhood son accordingly. The only difference be- with the light of its eye quenched, its tween them was, that Mrs. Squeers waged beauty gone, and its helplessness alone war against the enemy openly and fear- remaining; there were vicious-faced boys lessly, and that Squeers covered his ras- brooding. with leaden eyes, like malefac cality, even at home, with a spice of his tcrs in a jail; and there were young crea habitual deceit, as if he really had a tures on whom the sins of their frai notion of some day or other being able to parents had descended, weeping even fa( talie.himself in, and persaade his own the mercenary nurses they had known, mind that he was a very good fellow. and lonesome even in their loneliness. "But come," said Squeers, interrupting With every kindly sympathy and affectioii the progress of some thoughts to this effect blasted in its birth, with every young and in the mind of his usher, "let's go to the healthy feeling flogged and starved down, school-room; and lend nle.a hand with with every revengeful passion that can my school-coat, will. you?" fester in swollen hearts, eating its evil Nicholas assisted his master to put on way to their core in silence, what an an old fustian shooting-jacket, which he incipient Hell was breeding there l took down from a peg in the passage'; And yet this scene, painful as it was, and Squeers arming himself with his had its grotesque features, which, in a less cane, led the way across a yard to a door interested observer than Nicholas, might in the rear of the house. have provoked a smile. Mrs. Squeers stood "There," said the schoolmaster as they' at one of the desks, presiding over an imstepped in together; " this is our shop, mense basin of brimstone and treacle, of Nickleby." which delicious compound she adminisIt was such a crowded scene, and there tered a large instalment to each boy in were so many objects to attract attention, succecssion, using for the purpose a common that at first Niholas stared about him, wooden spoon, which might have been really without seeing anything atall. By originally manufactured for some gigantic degrees, however, the place resolved itself top, and which widened every young geninto a bare and dirty room with a couple tleman's mouth considerably, they being of'windows, whereof a tenth part might all obliged, under heavy corporal penalties, be of glass, the remainder being stopped to take in the w.l:'e of the bowl at a gasp. up with old copy-books and paper. There In another corner, huddlc t.:,gether for NICHOLAS NICKLEB~. 5 eoinpanionship, were the little boys who office, he sat himsef do un to wait for had arrived on the preceding night, three school-tinle. of them in very large leather breeches, H-e could not but. observe how silent and and two in old trousers, a something sadl the boys all seemed to be. There wal tighter fit than drawers are usually worn; none of the noise and clamour of a school. a! no great distance from them was seated room, none of its boisterous play or hearty the. juvenile son and heir of Mr. Squeers mirth. The chiinren sat crouc:hing ana -a sti iking likeless of his father- kick- shivering together, and seemed to lack the ngr with great vigour under the hands of spirit to move about. The only pupil who S'nike, who was fitting upon him a pair of evinced the slightest tendency towards,., w boots that bore a most suspicious re- locomotion or playfulness was Master semrblance to those which the least of the Squeers, and as his chief amusement was lit'le boys had worn on the journey down, to tread upon the other boys' toes in his ae the little boy himself seemed to think, new boots, his flow of spirits was rather fo, lhe was re.arding the appropriation disagreeable than otherwise. with a look of most rueful amazement. After some half-hour's delay Mr. Squeers Besides these, there was a long row of reappeared, and the boys took their places boys waiting, with countenances of no and their books, of which latter commodity pleasant anticipation, to be treacled, and the average might be about one to eight another file who had just escaped from the learners. A few minutes having elapsed. infliction, making a variety of wry mouths during which Mr. Squeers looked very pro indicative of any thing but satisfaction. found, as if he had a perfect apprehensionm The whole were attired in such motley, of what was inside all the books, and could ill-assorted, extraordinary garments, as say every word of their contents by heart would have been irresistibly ridiculous, but if he only chose to take the trouble, that for tile foul appearance of dirt, disorder, gentleman called up the first class. and disease, with which they were asso- Obedient to this summons there ranged ciated. themselves in front of the schoolmaster's "Now," said Squeers, giving the desk a desk, half-a-dozen scarecrows, out at knees great rap with his cane, which made half and elbows, one of whom placed a torn and the little boys nearly jump out of their filthy book beneath his learned eye. boots, "is that physicking over'" "This is the first class in English " Just over," said Mrs. Squeers, choking spelling and philosophy, Nickleby," said the last boy in her hurry, and tapping the Squeers, beckoning Ticholas to stand be, crown of his head with the wooden spoon side him. "W Ve'll get up a Latin one, and to restore him. " Here, you Smike; take hand that over to you. Now, then, where's away now. Look sharp." the first boy?" Smike shuffled out with the basin, and "Please, Sir, he's cleaning the back Mrs. Squeers having called up a little boy parlour window," said the temporary head with a curly head, and wiped her hands of the philosophical class. apon it, hurried out after him into a species " So he is, to be sure," rejoined Squeers. of wash-house, where there was a small " We go upon the practical mode of teacbfire and a large kettle, together with a ing, Nickleby; the regular education sys. number of little wooden bowls which were temrn. C-]-e-a-n, clean, verb active, to make arranged upon a board. bright, to scour. W-i-n, win, -e-r, der, Into these bowls Mrs. Squeers, assisted winder, a casement. When the boy knows by the hungry servant, poured a brown this out of book, he goes and does it. It's composition which looked like diluted pin- just the same principle as the use of the cushions without the covers, and was call- globes. Where's the second boy?" ed porridge. A minute wedge of brown "Please, Sir, he's weeding the garden.' bread was inserted in each bowl, and when replied a small voice. thev had eat their porridge by means of "To be sure," said Squeers, by no means the bread, the boys eat the bread itself, and disconcerted. " So he is. B-o-t, bot, t-i-r, had finished their breakfast; whereupon Mr. tin, bottin, n-e-y, ney, bottinney, noun subSqueei-s said, in a solemn voice, " For what stantive, a knowledge of plants. When he we have received may the Lord make us has learned that bottinney means a know. truly thankful!"-and went away to his own. ledge of plants, he goes and knows'em. Nicholas distended his stomach with a That's our system, Nickleby: what do.ou bowl of porridge, for much the same rea- think of it " son which induces some savages to swal- "It's a very useful one, at any rata," an low earth —lest they should be inconveni- swered Nicholas, significantly. ently hungry when there is nothing to eat. "I believe you," rejoined Squews, itN Having further disposed of a slice of bread remarking the emphasis of hie. usher,ad butter, allotted to him in virtue of his," Third boy, what's a horse t" 4 56 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. "A beast, Sir," replied the boy. paid, and so forth. This solemn proceeding "So it is," said Squeers. " Ain't it, always took place in the afternoon of the Nickleby?" day succeeding his return; perhaps because "I believe there is no doubt of that, Sir," the boys acquired strength of mind from the answered Nicholas. suspense of the morning, or possibly because "Of course there isn't," said Squeers. Mr. Squeers himself acquired greater stern. A horse is a quadruped, and quadruped's ness and inflexibility from certain warm po Latin for beast, as every body that's gone tations in which he was wont to indulge af through the grammar knows,- or else ter his early dinner. Be this as it may, the where's the use of having grammars at all'" boys were recalled from house-window, gar. "Where, indeed!" said Nicholas, ab- den, stable, and cow-yard, and the school stractedly. were assembled in full conclave, when Mr. " As you're perfect in that," resumed Squeers, with a small bundle of papers in Squeers, turning to the boy, " go and look his hand, and Mrs. S. following with a pair after my horse, and rub him down well, or of canes, entered the room and prclai'med I'll rub you down. The rest of the class silence. go and draw water up till somebody tells "Let any boy speak a word without you to leave off, for it's washing day to- leave," said Mr. Squeers, mildly, " and I'll morrow, and they want the coppers filled." take the skin off his back." So saying, he dismissed the first class to This special proclamation had the desired their experiments in practical philosophy, effect, and a deathlike silence imrl,ediately and eyed Nicholas with a look half cunning prevailed, in the midst of which Mr and half doubtful, as if he were not alto- Squeers went on to saygether certain what he might think of him "Boys, I've been to London. and have by this time. returned to my family and you, as strong "That's the way we do it, Nickleby," and well as ever." he said, after a long pause. According to half-yearly custom, the Nicholas shrugged his shoulders in a boys gave three feebje cheers at this remanner that was scarcely perceptible, and freshing intelligence. Such cheers! Sigha said he s.aw it was. of extra strength with the chill on. "And a very good,way it is, too," said "I have seen the Parents of some boys,' Squeers. "Now, just take those f)urteen continued Squeers, turning over nls papers, little boys and hear them some reading, be- "and they're so glad to hear how their cause you know you must begin to be use- sons are getting on that there s no prospect ful, and idling about here won't do." at all of their going away, which of course Mr. Squeers said this as if it had sud- is a very pleasant thing to reflect upon for denly occurred to him, either that lie must all parties." not say too much to. his assistant, or that Two or three hands went to two or three his assistant did not say enough to him in eyes, when Squeers said this, but the praise of the establishment. The children greater part of the young gentlemen having were arranged in a semicircle round the no particular parents to speak of, wer( new master, and he was soon listening to wholly uninterested in the thing one way their dull, drawling, hesitating recital of or other. those stories of engrossing interest which "I have had disappointments to contend are to be found in the more antiquated against," said Squeers, looking very grim, spelling books. "Bolder's father was two pound ten short. In this exciting occupation the morning Where is Bolder?".agged heavily on. At one o'clock, the boys "Here he is, please Sir," rejoined twenty Ilaving previously had their appetites tho- officious voices. Boys are very like men roughly taken away by stir-about and pota- to be sure. toes, sat down in the kitchen to some hard "Come here, Bolder," said Squeers. salt beef, of which Nicholas was graciously An unhealthy-looking boy, with warts permitted to take his portion to his own so- all over his hands, stepped from his place litary desk, and to eat there in peace. After to the master's desk, and raised his eyef this there was another hour of crouching in imploringly to Squeers's face; his own the school-room and shivering with cold, quite white from the rapid beating of his awd then school began again. heart. It was Mr. Squeers's custom to call the " Bolder," said Squeers, speaking very bovs together, and make a sort of report af- slowly, for lie was considering, as the sayter every half-yearly visit to the metropolis, ing. goes, where to have him. "Bolder, regarding the relations and friends he had if your father thinks that because - why teen, the news he had heard, the letters he what's this, Sir." had brought down, the bills which had been As Squeers spcke, he caught up the paid, the accounts which had been left un-, boy's hand by the cuff of his jacket, and NICHOLAS NICKLEB Y 57 surrejed it with an edifying.aspect of hor- vidence. Hopes above all, that he. will ror and disgust. study in everything to please Mr. and "' What do you call this, Sir?" demanded Mrs. Squeers, and look upon them as his the schoolmaster, administering a cut with only friends; and that he will love Master the cane to expedite the reply. Squeers, and not object to sleeping five in "I can't help it, indeed, Sir," rejoined a bed, which no Christian should. Ah!" the boy, crying. " They will come; it's said Squeers, folding it up, "a delightful the dirty work I think, Sir-at least I don't letter. Very affecting, indeed." know what it is, Sir, but it's not my fault." It was affecting in one sense, for Gray ~X Bolder," said Squeers, tucking up his marsh's maternal aunt was strongly sup. wristbands and moistening the palm of his posed, by her more intimate friends, to be right hand to get a good grip of the cane, no other than his maternal parent; Squeers,ou're an incorrigible young scoundrel, however, without alluding to this part of,%d as the last thrashing did you no good, the story (which would have sounded im. we must sr,e what another will do towards moral before boys), proceeded with the bubeating it out of you." siness by calling out "' Mobbs," whereupon With this, and wholly disregarding a another boy rose, and Graymarsh resumed piteous cry for mercy, Mr. Squeers fell his seat. upon the boy and caned him soundly: not " Mobbs's mother-in-law," said Squeers, leaving off indeed, until his arm was tired " took to her bed on hearing that he would out. not eat fat, and has been very ill ever since. "There," said Squeers, when he had She wishes to know by an early post where quite done; "rub away as hard as you he expects to go to, if he quarrels with his like, you won't rub that off in a hurry. vittles; and with what feelings he could Oh! you won't hold that noise, won't you? turn up his nose at the cow's liver broth, Put him out, Smike." after his good master had asked a blessing The drudge knew better from long ftx- on it. This was told her in the London perience, than to hesitate about obeying, so newspapers-not by Mr. Squeers, for he is he bundled the victim out by a side door, too kind and too good to set anybody against and Mr. Squeers perched himself again on anybody-and it has, vexed her so much, his own stool, supported by Mrs. Squeers, Mobbs can't think. She isisorry to find he who occupied another at his side. is discontented, which is sinful and horrid "Now let us see," said Squeers. "A and hopes Mr. Squeers will flog him into a letter for Cobbey. Stand up, Cobbey." happier state of mind; with which view Another boy stood up, and eyed the let- she has also stopped his halfpenny a week ter very hard while Squeers made a mental pocket-money, and given a double-bladed abstract of the same. knife with a corkscrew in it to the Missiona" Oh!" said Squeers: " Cobbey's grand- ries, which she had bought on purpose fol mnother is dead, and his uncle John has took him." to drinking, which is all the news his sister "A sulky state of feeling," said Squeers sends, except eighteenpence, which will after a terrible pause, during which he had just pay for that broken square of glass. moistened the palm of his right hand again, MIrs. Squeers, my dear, will you take the "won't do; cheerfulness and contentment money." must be kept up. Mobbs, come to me." The worthy lady pocketed the eighteen- Mobbs moved slowly towards the desk, pence with a most business-like air, and rubbing his eyes in anticipation of good Squeers passed on to the next boy as coolly cause for doing so; and he soon afterwards as possible. retired by the side door, with as good cause " Graymllarsh," said Squeers, "he's the as a boy need have. next. Stand up, Graymarsh." Mr. Squeers then proceeded to open a Another boy stood up, and the schoolrmas- miscellaneous collection of letters, some enter looked over the letter as before. closing money, which Mrs. Squeers "took "Graymarsh's maternal aunt," said care of;" and others referring to small ax&queers when he had possessed himself of tides of apparel, as caps and so forth, all the contents, " is very g'ad to hear he's so of which the same lady stated to be too well and happy, and sends her respectful large or too small, and calculated for nocompliments to Mrs. Squeers, and thinks body but young Squeers, who would appeal she must be an angel. She likewise thinks indeed to have ha4 most accommodating Mr. Squeers is too good for this world; but limbs, since everything that came into tile hopes he may long be spared to carry or school fitted him to a nicety. His head, in the business. Would have sent the tw( particular, must have been singularly elaspair of stockings as desired, but is short of tic, for hats and caps- of all dimension money, so forwards a tract instead, and were alike to him. hopes Grsvmrrsh will put his trust in Pro- This business despatched, a few slovenl] 58 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY, lessons were performed, and Squeers re- face of Smike, who was on his ka ees noe tired to his fireside, leaving Nicholas to fore the stove, picking a few stray cindenr take care of the boys in the school-room, from the hearth and planting them in tile which was very cold, and where a meal of fire. He had paused to steal a look at bread and cheese was served out shortly Nicholas, and when he saw that he wald after dark. observed, shrunk back as if expecting a There was a small stove at that corner blow. of the rcom which was nearest to the mas- "You ne ad not ftear me,' said Nicho.,a ter's desk, and by it Nicholas sat down, so kindly. "4 Ire you cold 1" depressed and self-degraded by the con-'"N-n-o." sciousness of his position, that if death "You are shivering." could have come upon him at that time he "I am not cold," replied Smike quickly would have been almost happy to meet it. " I am used to it.'The cruelty of which he had been an un- There was such an obvious fear of giv. willing witness, the coarse' and ruffianly ing offence in his manner, and he was such behaviour of Squeers even in his best a timid, broken-spirited creature, that moods, the filthy place, the sights and sounds Nicholas could not help exclaiming, "' Poor about him, all contributed to this state of fellow!" feeling; but when he recollected that being If he had struck the drudge, he would there as an assistant, he actually seemed- have slunk away without a word. But no matter what unhappy train of circum- now he burst into tears. stances had led him to that pass-to be the "Oh dear, oh dear!" he cried, covering aider and abettor of a system which filled his face with his cracked and horny hands. him with honest disgust and indignation, " My heart will break. It will, it will." he loathed himself, and felt for the moment "Hush!" said Nicholas, laying his hand as though the mere consciousness of his upon his shoulder. "Be a man; you are present situation must, through all time to nearly one by years, God help you." come, prevent his raising his head in so- "By years!" cried Smike. "Oh dear, ciety again. dear, how many of them! How many of But for the present his resolve was taken, them since I was a little child, younger and the resolution he had formed on the than any that are here now! Where are preceding night remained undisturbed. He they all!" had written to his mother and sister, an- -"Whom do you speak of?" inquirec nbfuncing the safe conclusion of his jour- Nicholas, wishing to rouse the poor half ney, and saying as little about Dotheboys witted creature to reason. "Tell me." Hall, and saying that little as cheerfully, "My friends," he replied, "myself-my as he possibly could. He hoped that by -oh! what sufferings mine have been!" remaining where he was, he might do some "There is always hope," said Nicholas good, even there, and at all events others he knew not what to say. depended too much on his uncle's favour to "No," rejoined the other, "no; none admit of hisawakening his wrath just then. for me. Do you remember the bov that One reflection disturbed him far more died here " than any selfish considerations arising out " I was not here you know," said Nicho. of his own position. This was the pro- las gently; " but what of him 3" bable destination of his/sister Kate. His "Why," replied the youth, drawing incle had deceived him, and might he not closer to his questioner's side, " I was with consign her to some miserable place where him at night, and when it was all silent he her youth and beauty would prove a far cried no more for friends he wished to gieater curse than ugliness and decrepi- come and sit with him, but began to see tude 3 To a caged man, bound hand and faces round his bed that came from home; fbot, this was a terrible idea; — but no, he he said they smiled, and talked to him, and thought, his mother was by; there was the died at last lifting his l.ead to kiss them. pQrtrait-painter, too —simple enough, but Do you hear?" still living in the world, and of it. He was "Yes, yes," rejoined Nicholas. willing to believe that Ralph Nickleby had "What faces will smile on me when 1 conceived a personal dislike to himself. die!" said his companion, shivering. "Whe' Having pretty good reason by this time to will talk to me in those long nights? They reciprocate it, he had no great difficulty in cannot come from home; they woulo arriving at that conclusion, and tried to frighten me if they did, for I don't know persuade himself that the feeling extended what it is, and should n't know them. Pain ao farther than between them. and fear, pain and fear for me, alive or As he was absorbed in these meditations dead. No hope, no hope." 3e al at once encountered the upturned The bell rang to bed and the boy sub NICHOLAS 1ICKLEBY. 59 aiding P,t the sound into his usual listless Nicholas soon afterwards-no, not retired; state, crept away as if anxious to avoid there was no retirement there —followed notice. It was with a heavy heart that — to his dirty and crowded dormltory. CHAPTER IX. td' MISS SQUEBIRS, MRS. SQIJEERS, MASTER SQUEERS, AND MR. SQUEERS; AND VARIOUS MATTERS AND PERSONS CONNECTED NO LESS WITH THE SQUEERS ES THAN AWITH NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. WHEN Mr. Squeers left the school-room Squeers. "If I hate him that's enough, ier the night, he betook himself, as has ain't it?" been before remarked, to his own fire-side, "Quite enough. for him, my dear, and a which was situated-not in the room in great deal too much I dare say, if he knew which Nicholas had supped on the night it," replied Squeers in a pacific tone. "I of his arrival, but in a smaller apartment only asked from curiosity, my dear." in the rear of the premises, where his lady "Well, then, if you want to know," ret wife, his amiable son, and accomplished joined Mrs. Squeers, " I'll tell you. Be. daughter, were in the full enjoyment of cause he's a proud, haughty, consequential, each other's society: Mrs. Squeers being turned-up-nosed peacock." engaged in the matronly pursuit of stock- Mrs. Squeers when excited was accusing-darning, and the young lady and gen-. tomed to use strong language, and moretleman occupied in the adjustment of some over to make use of a plurality of epithets, youthful differences by means of a pugi- some of which were of a figurative kind, listic contest across the table, which, on as the word peacock, and furthermore the the approach of their honoured parent, sub- allusion to Nicholas's nose, which was not sided into a noiseless exchange of kicks intended to be taken in its literal sense, but beneath it. rather to bear a latitude of construction ao. And in this place it may be as well to cording to the fancy of the hearers. Neiapprise the reader, that Miss Fanny Squeers ther were they meant to bear reference to was in her three-and-twentieth year. If each other, so much as to the object on there be any one grace or loveliness in- whom they were bestowed, as will be seen.eparable from that particular period of in the present case: a peacock with life, Miss Squeers may be presumed to turned-up-nose being a novelty in ornitho. have been possessed of it, as there is no logy, and a thing not commonly seen. reason to suppose that she was a solitary Hem!" said Squeers, as if in mild deexception to a universal'rule. She was precation of this outbreak. "Ile is cheap, not tall like her mother, but short like her my dear; the young man is very cheap." father; from the former she inherited a "Not a bit of it," retorted Mrs. Squeers. voice of harsh quality, and from the lat- "Five pound a year," said Squeers. ter a remarkable expression of the right "What of that? it's dear if you don't eye, something akin to having none at want him, isn't it " replied his wife. all. "But we do want him," urged Squeers. Miss Squeers had been spending a few "I don't see that you want him any more days with a neighbouring friend, and had than the dead," said MSrs. Squeers. "Don't only just returned to the parental roof. To tell me. You can put on the cards and in this circumstance may be referred her hav- the advertisements,' Education by Mr ing heard nothing of Nicholas, until Mr. Wackford Squeers and able assistants,' Squeers himself now made him the subject without having any assistants, can't you. of conversation. Isn't it done every day by all the masters " Well, my dear," said Squeers, drawing about? I've no patience with you." up his chair, " what do you think of him by "Have n't you!" said Squeers, sternly this time?" "Now I'll tell you what. Mrs. Squeers. " Think of who?" inquired Mrs. Squeers; In this matter of having a teacher, I'11. take who (as she often remarked) was no gram- my own way, if you please. A slave driver marian, thank God. in the West Indies is allowed a man under 1" Of the young man-the new teacher him, to see that his blacks don't run away, -who else could I mean 3" or get up a rebellion; and I'11 have a man "Oh! that Knuckleboy," said Mrs. under me to do the same with our blacks, Squeers impatiently; " I hate him." till such time as little Wackford is able to " What do you hate him for, my dear?" take charge of the school." asked Sqteers. "t Am I to take care of the school when "What s that to voi. retorted Mrs. I grow up a man, ieathcr " said Wackihrd -69 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY inior, suspending, in the excess of his de- If he's a gentlelnan's son at all 1e s a ford hgnt, a vicious kick which he was adminis- ling, that's my opinion." tering to his sister. Mrs. Squeers intended to say "found. "You are, my son," replied Mr. Squeers, ling," but, as she frequently remarked when im a sentimental voice. she made any such mistake, it would be all Oh nly eye, won't I give it to the boys!" the same a hundred years hence; with exclaimed the interesting child, grasping which axiom of philosophy indeed she wag ais father's cane. "Oh father, won't I in the constant habit of consoling tile boys make'em squeak again!" when they laboured under more than ordiIt was a proud morent in Mr. Squeers's- nary ill usage. life to witness that burst of enthusiasm in "He's nothing of the kind," said Squeers his young child's mind, and to see in it a in answer to the above remark,'" for his fa. foreshadowing of his future eminence. He ther was married to his mother, years be. pressed a penny into his hand, and gave fore he was born, and she is alive now. It vent to his feelings (as did his exemplary he was it would be no business of ours, fop wife also), in a shout of approving laughter. we make a very good friend by having him The infantine appeal to their common sym- here, and if he likes to learn the boys any pathies at once restored cheerfulness to the thing besides minding them, I have no cb conversation, and harmony to the cornm- jection I am sure." pany. "I say again I hate him worse than poi A" He's a nasty stuck-up monkey, that's son," said Mrs. Squeers vehemently. -what I consider him," said Mrs. Squeers, "If you dislike him, my dear," returnee reverting to Nicholas. Squeers,' I don't know anybody who can "Supposing he is," said Squeers, " he is show dislike better than you, and of cours, as well stuck up in our schoolroom as any- there's no occasion, with him, to take the where else, isn't he? —especially as he trouble to hide it." don't like it." "I don't intend *to, I assure you," inter. "Well," observed Mrs. Squeers, "there's posed Mrs. S. something in that. I hope it'll bring his "That's right," said Squeers; "and if pride down, and it shall be no fault of mine he has a touch of, pride about him, as 1 if it don't." think he has, I don't believe there's a woNow, a proud usher in a Yorkshire school man in all England that can bring anybody's was such a very extraordinary and unac- spirit down as quick as you can, my love." countable thing to hear of,-any usher at Mrs. Squeers chuckled vastly on the re. 11l being a novelty, but a proud one a being ceipt of these flattering compliments, and 3f whose existence the wildest imagination said, she hoped she had tamed a high spirit could never have dreamt -that Miss or two in her day. It is but due to her Squeers, who seldom troubled herself with character to say, that* in conjunction with scholastic matters, inquired with much cu- her estimable husband, she had brokei, riosity who this Knuckleboy was that gave many and many a one. himself such airs. Miss Fanny Squeers carefully treasured "Nickleby," said Squeers, spelling the up this and much more conversation on the name according to some eccentric system same subject until she retired for the night, which pievailed in his own mind, "your when she questioned the hungry servant mother always calls things and people by minutely regarding the outward appeartheir wrong names." ance and demeanour, of Nicholas; to which " No matter for that," said Mrs. Squeers, queries the girl returned such enthusiastic'I see them with right eyes, and that's replies, coupled with so many laudatory requite enough for me. I watched him when marks touching his beautiful dark eyes, and you were laying on to little Bolder this af- his sweet smile, and his straight legs —upon ternoon. He looked as black as thunder which last-named articles she laid particuall the while, and one time started up as if' lar stress, the general run of legs at Dothebe had more than got it in his mind to make boys Hall being crooked-that Miss Squeers a rush at you; 1 saw him, though he thought was not long in arriving at the conclusion - didn't." that the new usher must be a very remark-'Never mind that, father," said Miss able person, or as she herself significantly Squeers, as the head of the family was phrased it, "something quite out of the about to reply. "Who is the man." common." And so Miss Squeers made up "Why, your father has got some non- her mind that she would take a personal sense in his head that he's the son of a observation of Nicholas the very next day. poor gentleman that died the other day," In pursuance of this design, the young said Mrs. Squeers. lady watched the opportunity of her mother ~ The son of a gentleman!" Wing engaged and her father absent, and -"Y s, but I don't believe a word of it. went accidentally into the schoolroom te NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 61 get a pen mended, where, seeing nobody "it was my fault. Tt A as a.- ny fo il&tibut Nicholas presiding over the boys, she a-a-good morning." blushed very deeply, and exhibited grea "Good bye," said Nicholas. "The next confusion. i I make for you, I hope will be made less "I beg your pardon," faltered Miss clumsily. Take care, you are biting the Squeers; "I thought my father was —or nib off now." might be-dear me, how very awkward!" "Really," said Miss Squeers; "so emt."Mr. Squeers is out," said Nicholas, by I barrassing that I scarcely know what Ino means overcome by the apparition, un- very sorry to give you so much trouble." expected though it was. "Not the least trouble in the world," re. "Do you know will he be long, Sir?" plied Nicholas, closing the school-room door. asked Miss.Squeers, with bashful hesitatio. "'I never saw such legs in the whole " He said about an hour," replied Nicho- course of my life!" said Miss Squeers, as las-politely of course, but without any in- she walked away. dication of being stricken to the heart by In fact, Miss Squeers was in love with Miss Squeers's charms. Nicholas Nickleby. "I never knew any thing happen so To account for the rapidity with which cross," exclaimed the young lady.'" Thank this young lady had conceived a passion for you; I am very sorry I intruded, I am sure. Nicholas, it may be necessary to state thait If I hadn't thokight my father was here, I the friend from whom she had so recently wouldn't upon any account have-it is very returned was a miller's daughter of only provoking - must look so very strange," eighteen, who had contracted herself unto murmured Miss Squeers, blushing once the son of a small corn-factor resident in more, and glancing from the pen in her the nearest market town. Miss Squeers hand,. to Nicholas at his desk, and back and the miller's daughter beino fast friends, again. had covenanted together some two years "If that is all you want," said Nicholas, before, according to a custom prevalent pointing to the pen, and smiling, in spite among young ladies, that whoever was firsL of himself at the affected embarrassment engaged to be married should straightway of the school-master's daughter, "perhaps confide the mighty secret to the bosom of I can supply his place." the other, before communicating it to any Miss Squeers glanced at the door as if living soul. and bespeak her as bridesmaid dubious of the propriety of advancing any without loss of time; *il fillfilment of which nearer to an utter stranger, then round the pledge the miller's daughter, when her enschool-room as though in some measure re- gagement was formed, came out express at assured by the presence of forty boys, and eleven o'clock at night, as the corn-factor's finally sidled up to Nicholas, and delivered son made an offer of his hand and heart at the pen into his hand with a most winning twenty-five minutes past ten by the Dutch mixtcre of reserve and condescension. clock in the kitchen, and rushed into Miss "Shall it be a hard or a soft nib?" in- Squeers's bed-room with the gratifying inquired Nicholas, smiling to prevent him- telligence. Now, Miss Sqdeers being five self from laughing outright. year nl]der, and out of her teens (which is "He has a beautiful smile," thought also a great matter), had since been more Miss Squeers. than commonly anxious to returr the com-' Which did you say?" asked Nicholas. pliment, and possess her friend with a simi. "Dear me, I was thinking of something lar secret; but either in consequence of el3e Ofr the moment, I declare," replied finding it hard to please herself, or harder Miss Squeers- -" Oh! as soft as possible, still to please any body else, had never had if you please." With which words Miss an opportunity so to do, inasmuch as she Squeers sighed; it might be to give Nicho- had no such secret to disclose. The little las to understand that her heart was soft, interview with Nicholas had no sooner and that the pen was wanted to match. passed as above described, however, than Upon these instructions Nicholas made Miss Squeers, putting on her bonnet, made tie pen; when lie gave it to Miss Squeers, her way with great precipitation to her Miss Squeers dropped it, and when he friend's house, and upon a solemn renewal stooped to pick it up, Miss Squeers stooped of divers old vows of secrecy, revealed how,lso, and they knocked their heads together, that she was-not exactly engaged, bhlt go, whereat five-and-twenty little boys laughed ing to be-to a gentleman's son-t-none of %loud, being positively for the first and only your corn-factors, but a gentleman's son of time that half year. high descent) - who had come down aM'" Very awkward of me," said NichQlas, teacher to Dotheboys Hall under most mys. opening the door for the young lady's re- terious and remarkable circumstances —in trea t. deed, as Miss Squeers more than once hint ANot at all, Sir," replied Miss Squeers ed she had go)d reason to believe —inducee (;2 N1I CHOLAS NICK LEBY. by the famle of her many charms to sees Whenever such opportunitie:s as thewe her out, ankd woo and win her. occurred. it was Squeers's custom to drive "Is n't it an extraordinary thing " said over to the market town every evewming on Miss Squeers, emphasising the adjective pretence of urgent business, and stop till strongly. ten or eleven o'clock at a tavern he much " Most extraordinary," replied the friend. affected. As the party was not in his way "But what has he said to you?" therefore, but rather afforded a means of "Do n't ask me what he said, my dear," compromise with Miss Squeers, he readily rejoined Miss Squeers. "If you had only yielded his full assent thereunto, and wil seen his looks and smiles! I never was so lingly communicated to Nicholas that ha overcome in all my life." was expected to take his tea in the parlour'; Did he look in this way." inquired the that evening at five o'clock. mniller's daughter, counterfeiting as nearly To be sure Miss Squeers was in a des. as sihe could a favourite leer of the corn- perate flutter as the time approached, and factor. to be sure she was dressed out to the best ",Very like that —only more genteel," advantage: with her hair —it had more replied Miss Squeers. than a tinge of red, and she wore it in a "; Ah!" said the friend, "then he means crop —curled in five distinct rows up to something, depend on it." the very top of her head, and arranged Miss Squeers, having slight misgivings dexterously over the doubtful eye; to say san the subject, was by no means ill pleased nothihg of the blue sash which floated to be confirnled by a competent authority; down her back, or the worked apron, or the and discovering, on further conversation long gloves, or the green gauze scarf worn and comparison of notes, a great many over one shoulder and under the other, or points of resemblance between the be- any of the numerous devices which were haviour of Nicholas and tllat of the corn- to be as so many arrows to the heart of factor, grew so exceedingly confidential, Nicholas. She had scarcely completed tiat she intrusted her friend with a vast these arrangements to her entire satisfacnumber of things Nicholas had not said, tion when the friend arrived with a whiteywhich were all so very complimentary as brown parcel —flat and three-corneredlto be quite conclusive. Then she dilated containing sundry small adornments which on the fearful hardship of having a father were to be put on up stairs, and which the and mother strenuously opposed to her in- friend put on, talking incessantly. When tended husband, on which unhappy circum- Miss Squeers had " done" the friend's hair stance she dwelt at great length; for the the friend "did" Miss Squeers's hair, friend's father and mother were quite throwing in some strikingimprovements in agreeable to her being married, and the the way of ringlets down the neck; and whole courtship was in consequence as flat then, when they were both touched up to and common-place an aflair as it was possi- their entire satisfaction, they went down ble to imagine. stairs in full state with the long gloves on, "How I should like to see him!" ex- all ready for company. claimed the fiiend. "Where's John,'Tilda 3" said Miss "So you shall,'Tilda," replied Miss Squeers. Squeers. "I should consider myself one " Only gone home to clean himself," reof the most ungrateful creaturtes alive, if I plied the friend. "He will be here by the denied you. I think mothoer's gcirn away time the tea's drawn." for two days to fetch some boys, and when "I do so palpitate," observed Miss she does, I'1I ask you and John up to tea, Squeers. and have him to meet vou." " Ah! I know what it is," replied the This was a charming idea, and having friend. tully discussed it, the friends parted. "I have not been used to it, you know 1t so fell out that AMrs. Squeers's journey'Tilda," said Miss Squeers, applying!xhe to some distance, to fetch three new boys, hand to the left side of her sash. and dun the relations of two old ones for "You'll soon get the better of it, dear,' the balance of a small account, was fixed rejoined the friend. While they wert. ithat very afternoon for the next day but talking thus the hungry servant brought in one;'and on the next day but one Mrs. the tea things, and soon afterwards snome Squeers got up outside the coach as it stop- body tapped at the room door. F}ed to change at Greta Bridge, taking with "There he is!" cried Miss Squees; der a small bundle containling something " Oh'Tilda!" in a bottle and some sandwiches, and carry- "Hush!" said'Tilda. "Hem! Say ing besides a large white top coat to year come in." In the night-time; witl which baggage "Come in," cried Miss Squeer-'anmti ne weft, her ws *. And in w-;lked Nc;hola.~ NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 63 "Good evening," said that young gentle- his employer's nouse since ushers were man, all unconscious of' his conquest. "I first invented. understood from Mr. Squeers that-" The ladies were in the full delight of "Oh yes; it's all right," interposed this altered behaviour on the part of Mr. Miss Squeers. " Father don't tea with us, Nickleby, when the expected swain arriv d but you won't mind that I dare say." (This with his hair very damp from recent waslh. was said archly.) ing; and a, clean shirt, whereof the collar Nicholas opened his eyes at this, but he might have belonged to some giant'ancesturned the matter off very coolly —not tor, forming, together with a white waist. caring particularly about any thing just coat of similar dimensions, the chief orna theni-and went through the ceremony of ment of his person. introduction to the miller's daughter with "Well, John," said Miss Matilda Price ~o much grace, that that young lady was lost (which, by-the-bye, was the name of the in admlliration. miller's daughter.) ~'Wre are only waiting for one more "Weel," said John, with a grin that gentleman," said Miss Sl,,eers, taking off even the collar could not conceal. the tea-pot lid, and looking in, to see how "I beg your pardon," interposed Miss the tea was getting on. Squeers, hastening to do the honours, " Mr. It was matter of equal moment to Nicho- Nickleby- Mr. John Browdie." las whether they were waiting for one "Servant, Sir," said John, who was gentleman or twenty, so he received the some hing over six feet high, with a face intelligence with perfect unconcern; and and body rather above the due proportion being out of spirits, and not seeing any than below it. especial reason why he should make him- "Yours to command, Sir," replied Nichoself agreeable, looked out of the window las, making fearful ravages on the bread and sighed involuntarily. and butter. As luck would have it, Miss Squeers's Mr. Browdie was not a gentleman of friend was of a playful turn, and hearing great conversational powers, so he grinned Nicholas sigh, she took it into her head twice more, and having now bestowed his to rally the lovers on their lowness of customary mark of recognition on every spirits. person in company, grinned at nothing par" But if it's caused by my being here," ticular and helped himself to food. said the young lady, "don't mind mle a bit, " Old woomlan awa', beant she!" said for I'm quite as bad. You may go on just Mr. Browdie, with his mouth full. as you would if you were alone." Miss Saueers nodded assent. "'Tilda," said Miss Squeers, colouring Mr. Browdie gave a grin of special up to the top row of curls, "I am ashamed width, as if he thought that really was of you;" and here the two friends burst something to laugh at, and went to work into a variety of giggles, and glanced from at the bread and butter with increased time to time over the tops of their pocket- vigour. It was quite a sight to behold how nandkerchiefs at Nicholas, who, from a he and Nicholas emptied the plate between state of unmixed astonishment, gradually them. fell into one of irrepressible laughter — Ye weant get bread and butther uv'ry occasioned partly by the bare notion of his neight I expect, mun," said Mr. Browdie, beinii in love with Miss Squeers, and part- after he had sat staring at Nicholas a long ly by the preposterous appearance and be- time over the empty plate. haviour of the two girls; the two causes Nicholas bit his lip and coloured, but of merriment taken together, struck him affected not to hear the remark. as being so keenly ridiculous, that despite "Ecod," said Mr. Browdie, laughing his miserable condition, he laughed till he boisterously, "1litey dean't put too much was thoroughly exhausted. intiv'em. Ye'll be nowt but skeen ald " Well," thought Nicholas, "as I am boans if you stop here long eneaf. Ho here, and seem expected for some reason ho! ho!" or other to be amiable, it's of no use look- "You are facetious, Sir," said Nicholas, ing like a goose. I may as well accom- scornfully. modate myself to the company." "Na; I deant know," replied Mr. Brow. We blush to tell it, but his youthful die, "but t'oother teacher,'cod he wur a spirits and vivacity getting for a time the lean'un, he wur." The recollection of better of his sad thoughts, he no sooner the last teacher's leanness seemed to afford formed this resolution than he saluted Miss Mr. Browdie the most exquisite delight, Squeers and her friend with great gallan- for he laughed until he found it nlecesse ry try, and drawing a chair to the tea-table, to apply his coat-cuffb to his eyes. began to make himself more at home than "I don't know whether your perceptions in all prbmbilitvr a usher has ever done in are quite keen enough, Mr. Browdie, to 64 NICHOLAS'NICKLEBY. entble yoV to understand that your re- else, which were all reasons hyv she sho dd marks are very oflensive," said Nicholas in be gratified to think she had made an imr. a towering passion, " but if they are, have I pression on him, " or Fanny will be saying the goodness to —" it's my fault. Come; we're going to have "If you say another word, John," shriek- a game at cards." Pronouncing these last ed Miss Pric.e,. stopping her admirer's words aloud, she tripped a'way and rejoined mouth as he was about to interrupt, " only the big Yorkshireman. half a word, I'll never forgive you, or This was wholly unintelligible to Nicho. speak to you again." las, who had no other distinct impressicn "Weel, my lass, J deant care aboot'un," on his mind at the moment, than that MiDs said the corn-factor, bestowing a hearty Squeers was an ordinary-lookingr girl, and kiss on Miss Matilda; "let'un gang on, her friend Miss Price a pretty one; but he let'un gang on." had not time to enlighten himself by reIt now became AMiss Squeers's turn to fiection, for the hearth being by this time intercede with Nicholas, which she did qswept up, and t a rcandle snuffed, they sat with many symptoms of alarm and horror; down to palay pecaAtion. the effect of the double intercession was "The're are only four of us,'Tilda," said that he and John Browdie shook hands Miss Squeers, lool;ing slyly at Nicholas, across the table with much gravity, and "so we had better go partners, two aoainst such was the imposing nature of the cere- two." monial, that Miss Sqaeers was overcome "What do you aty, Mr. Nickleby." in. and shed tears. quired Miss Price. "What's the matter, Fanny?" said Miss "With all the pleasure in life," rep]ie-J Price. Nicholas. And so soying aquite unconscious "' Nothing,'Tilda," replied Miss Squeers, of his heinous offen.-:, he amalgamated ints sobbing. one common he:,p those portions of a Dothie"There never was any danger," said boys Hall card of terms, which represented Miss Price, " was there, Mr. Nickleby 3" his own counters. and those allotted to Miss;" None at all," replied Nicholas. ", Ab- Price, respectively. surd."'"Mr. Browdie," said Miss Squeers hys" That's right," whispered Miss Price, terically, " shall we make a bank against "say something kind to her, and she'll them'?" soon come round. Here, shall John and I The Yorkshireman assented-apparently go into the little kitchen, and come back quite overwhelmed by the new usher's impresently l" puldence-and Miss Squeers darted a spite"Not on any account," rejoined Nicho- ful look at her friend, and giggled convul las, quite alarmed at the proposition. sively. "What on earth should you do that for?" The deal fell to Nicholas, and the hand " Well," said Miss Price, beckoning him prospered. aside, and speaking with some degree of "We intend to win every thing," said he. contempt — you are a one to keep cornm- "'Tilda has won something she didn't pany." expect, I think, haven't you, dear?" said "What do you mean." said Nicholas; Miss Squeers, maliciously. " am not one to keep company at all — "Only a dozen and eight, love," replied hre at all events. I can't make this out." Miss Price, affecting, to take the question No, nor I neither," rejoined Miss Price; in a literal sense. "but men ate alwavs fickle, and always'How- dull you are to-night!" sneered were, and always' will be; that I can make Miss Squeers. qsut, very easily." "No, indeed," replied Miss Price, " I am "Fick e!" cried Nicholas; "what do you in excellent spirits. I was thinking yot slppose 3 You don't mean to say that you seemed out of sorts." think -" "Me!" cried Miss Squeers, bitinf hbe " Oh no, I think nothing at all," retorted lips, and trembling with very jealousy; Miss Price pettishly. "Look at her, dress- "Oh no!" ed so beautiful and looking so well-really "That's well," remarked Miss Price. almost handsome. I am ashamed at you." " Your hair's comingy out of curl, dear." "My dear girl, what have I got to do "Never mind me," tittered Mliss Squeers; with her dressing beautifully or looking "vou had better attend to your partner." well3" inquired Nicholas. "Thank you for reminding her," said " Come, don't call me a dear girl," said Nicholas. "So she had." Miss Price-smiling a little though, for she The Yorkshireman flattened his nost was pretty, and a coquette too in her small once or twice with his clenched fist, as if way, and Nicholas: was good-looking, and to keep his hand in, till he had an opportil ahl supposed him the property of somebody i nity of exercising it upon the fiatures of NICHOLAS.NICKL1EBY. 65 iome other gentleman; and Miss Squeers monially engaged without good groeint for tossed her head with such indignation, that so doing; Miss Price had br: Ailhrt it about the gust of wind raised by the multitudinous by indulging in three motives of action; cu.ls in motion, nearly blew the candle out. first, a desire to punish her friend fbr lay. "I never had such luck, really," exclaim- ing claim to a rivalship in dignity, having ed coquettish Miss Price, after another hand no good title; secondly, the gratification or two. " It's all along of you, Mr. Nic- of her own vanity in receiving the compii. kleby, I think. 1 should like to have you ments of a smart young man; and thirdlly, for a partner always." a wish to convince the corn-factor of the "I wish you had." great danger he ran, in deferring the cele. "You'll have a bad wife, though, if you bration of their expected nuptials: while always win at cards," said Miss Pride. Nicholas had brought it about by half an "Not if your wish is gratified," replied hour's gaiety and thoughtlessness, and a Nicholas. " I am sure I shall have a good very sincere desire to avoid the imputation one in that case." of inclining at all to Miss Squeers. So, To see how Miss Squeers tossed her that the means employed, and the end pro. head, and the corn-factor flattened his nose, duced, were alike the most natural in the while this conversation was carrying on! world: for young ladies will look forward It would have been worth a small annuity to being married, and will jostle each other to have beheld that; let alone Miss Price's in the race to the altar, and will avail themevident joy at making them jealous, and selves of all opportunities of displaying Nicholas Nickleby's happy unconsciousness their own attractions to the best advantage, of making anybody uncomfortable. down to the very end of time as they have " We have all the talking to ourselves, done from its beginning. it seems," said Nicholas, looking good- "Why, and here's Fanny in tears now!" humouredly round the table as he took up exclaimed Miss Price, as if in fresh amazethe cards for a fresh deal. ment. " What can be the matter?" " You do it so well," tittered Miss Squeers, " Oh! you don't know, Miss, of course "that it would be a pity -to interrupt, you don't know. Pray don't trouble your. would n't it, Mr. Browdie? He! he! be!" self to inquire," said Miss Squeers, pro" Nay," said Nicholas, " we do it in de- ducing that change of countenance which fault of having anybody else to talk to." children call making a face. " We'll talk to you, you know, if you'll "Well, I'm sure," exclaihied M;as Price. say anything," said Miss Price. "And who cares whether you are sure; Thank you,'Tilda, dear," retorted Miss or not, ma'am 3" retorted Miss Squeers, Squeers, majestically. making another face. " Or you can talk to each other, if you " You are monstrous polite, ma'am," said don't choose to talk to us," said Miss Price, Miss Price. rallying her dear friend. "1 John, why don't "I shall not come to you to take lessons you say something?'" in the art, ma'am," retorted Miss Squeers. " Say summAt 3" repeated the Yorkshire- "You need n't take the trouble to make tnan. yourself plainer than you are, ma'am, how"Ay, and not sit there so silent and glum." ever," rejoined Miss Price, " because that's "Weel, then!" said the Yorkshireman, quite unnecessary." striking the table heavily with his fist, Miss Squeers in reply turned very red, "what I say's this-Dang my boans and and thanked God that' she hadn't got the boddy, if I stan' this ony longer. Do ye bold faces of some people, and Miss Price gang whoam wi' me; and do yon loight an' in rejoinder congratulated herself upon not toight young whipster, look sharp out for a being possessed ofrthe, envious feeling of brokken head next time he cums under my other people; whereupon Miss Squeers bond." made some general remark touching the "Mercy on us, what's all this? " cried danger of associating with low persons, in Miss Price, in affected astonishment. which Miss Price entirely coincided, oh. "Cum whoam, tell'e, cum whoam," re- serving that it was very true indeed, and plied the Yorkshireman, sternly. And as she had thought so a long time. he delivered the reply Miss Squeers burst,'Tilda," exclaimed Miss Squeers with into a shower of tears; arising in part from dignity, "I hate you." desperate vexation, and in part from an im- " Ah! There's no love lost between us potent desire to lacerate somebody's coun- I assure you," said Miss Price, tying her.enance with her fair finger-nails. bonnet strings with a jerk. "You'l11 cry This state of things had been brought your eyes out when I'm gone, you know Lbout by divers means and workings. Miss you will." Squeers had brought it about by aspiring to "I scorn your words. Minx," saic Mia;he high state and condition of being matri- Squeers. 6* I bOb NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. " Ycu pay mne a great compliment when Miss Squeers was moaning in htr pocket you say so," answered the miller's daugh- handkerchief. ter, curtseying very low. "Wish you a "This is one consequence," thought Ni. very good night, ma'am, and pleasant cholas, when he had groped his way to the dreams attend your sleep." dark sleeping-room, "of my cursed readiWith this parting benediction Miss Price ness to adapt myself to any society into swept from the room, followed by the huge which chance carries me. If I had sat Yorkshireman, who exchanged with Nicho- mute and motionless, as I might have done, las at parting, that peculiarly expressive this would not have happened." scowl with which the cut-and-thrust counts Ile listened for a few minutes, but all il relo-dramatic performances inform each was quiet. other they will meet again.. "I was glad," he murmured, "to grasp They were no. sobner gone than Miss at anv relief from the sight of this dreadful Squeers fulfilled the prediction of her quon- place, or the presence of its vile master. I darn friend by giving vent to a most copi- have set these people by the ears and made olus burst of tears, and uttering various dis- two new enemies, where, Heaven knows, I mal lamentations and incoherent words. needed none. Well, it is a just punish. Nicholas stood looking on for a few seconds, ment for having forgotten, even for an hour, rather doubtful what to do, but feeling un- what is around me now." certain whether the fit would end in his So saying, he felt his way among tkh being embraced or scratched, and consider- throng of weary-hearted sleepers, and crept ing that either infliction would be equally into his poor bed. agreeable, he walked off very quietly while CHAPTER X. HOW MR. RALPH NICKLEBY PROVIDED FOR HIS NIECE AND SISTER4IN-LAW ON the second morning after the depart- sent case. Ah! The difficulties of art, my ure of Nicholas for Yorkshire, Kate Nic- dear, are great." kleby sat in a very faded chair raised upon "They must be, I have no doubt," said a very dusty throne in Miss La Creevy's Kate, humouring her good-natured little room, giving that lady a sitting for the por- friend. trait upon which she was engaged; and "They are beyond anything you can towards the full perfection of which, Miss form the faintest conception of," replied La Creevy had had the street-door case Miss La Creevy. "What with bringing out brought up stairs, in order that she might eyes with all one's, power, and keeping be the better able to infuse into the coun- down noses with all one's force, and adding terfeit countenance of Miss Nickleby a to heads, and taking away teeth altogether, bright salmon flesh-tint which she had ori- you have no idea of the trouble one little ginally hit upon while executing the minia- miniature is." ture of a young officer therein contained, "The remuneration can scarcely repay and which bright salmon flesh-tint was con- you," said Kate. sidered by Miss La Creevy's chief friends "Why, it does not, and that's the truth," and patrons, to be quite a novelty in art: answered Miss La Creevy; " and then peoas indeed it was. ple are so dissatisfied and unreasonabsle, "I think I have caught it now," said that nine times out of ten there's no pleaMiss La Creevy. " The very shade. This sure in painting them. Sometimes they will be the sweetest portrait I have ever say,'Oh, how very serious you have made done, certainly." me look, Miss La Creevy!' and at others, i" It will be your genius that makes it so,' La, Miss La Creevy, how very smirking!' then, I am sure," replied Kate, smiling. when the very essence of a good portrait "No, no, I won't allow that, my dear," is, that it must be either serious or smirkrejoined Miss La Creevy. "It's a very ing, or it's no portrait at all." nicewsubject-a very nice subject, indeed- "Indeed!" said Kate, laughing. though of course, something depends upon' Certainly, my dear; because the sitters the mode of treatment." are always either the one or the other," re"And not a little," observed Kate. plied Miss La Creevy. " Look at the Royal "W hy, my dear, you are right there," Academy. All those beautiful shiny porsaid Miss La Creevy, " in the main you are traits of gentlemen in black velvet waistlight there; though I don't allow that it is coats, with their fists doubled up on round tF such very great imoort} nce in the pre- tables or marble slabs, are serious, you N CHOLAS NICKLEBY. 6.' snow;' and all the adies who are playing La Creevy, who was tt cldd, ttle m xture with little parasols, or little dogs, or little of shrewdness and silnplicity. "'WVen a children -it's the same rule in art, only man's a bear he is generally pretty inde varying the objects-are smirking. In pendent." fact," said Miss La Creevy, sinking her "His manner is rough," said Kate voice to a confidential whisper, " there are "Rough!" cried Miss La Creevy, "' a poronly two styles of portrait-painting, the se- cupine's a feather-bed to him. I never met rious and the smirk; and we always use with such a cross-grained old savage." the serious fbr professional people (except "It is only his manner, I believe," oh. actors so:netimes), and the smirk for pri- served Kate, timidly, "lie was disappointed vate ladies and gentlemen who don't care in early life I think I have heard, or has so much about looking clever." had his temper soured by some calamity. I Kate seemed highly amused by this in- should be sorry to think ill of hinm until I formation, and Miss La Creevy went on knew he deserved it." painting and talking with immovable cornm- "Well; that's very right and proper," placency. observed the mniniature painter, "and Hfea "Whlat a number of officers you seem to ven forbid that I should be the cause of paint!" said Kate, availing herself of a your doing so. But now mightn't lie, with. pause in the discourse, and glancing round out feeling it himself, make you and your the room. mamma some nice little allowance that " Number of what, child?" inquired Miss would keep you both comfortable until you La Creevy, looking up from her work. were well married, and be a little fortune "Character portraits, oh yes -they're not to her afterwards! What would a hundred real military men, you know." a year, for instance, be to him! " "No!" " I don't know what it would be to him/, "Bless your heart, of course not; only said Kate, with great energy, "' but it would clerks and that, who hire a uniform coat to be that to me I would rather die than take." be painted in and send it here in a carpet "Heyday!" cried Miss La Creevy. bag. Some artists," said Miss La Creevy, "A dependence upon him," said Kate., "keep a red coat, and charge seven-and- "would embitter nmy whole life. I should sixpence extra for hire and carmine; but I feel begging a far less degradation." don't do that myself, for I don't consider it "Well!" exclaimed Miss La Creevy egitimate." "This of a relation whom you will not heal Drawing herself up as though she plumed an indifferent person speak ill of, my dear herself greatly upon not resorting to these sounds oddly enough, I confess." lures to catch sitters, Miss La Creevy ap- "I dare say it does," replied Kate, speak. plied herself more intently to her task, only ing more gently, "indeed I am sure it must, raising her head occasionally to look with I-I-only mean that with the feelings and unspeakable satisfaction at some touch she recollection of better times upon me, I coulc had just put in,: and now and then giving not bear to live on anybody's bounty- n-c Miss Nickleby to understand -what particu- his partiuilarly, but anybody's." lar feature she was at work upon at the Miss JLCreevy looked slyly at her coinmoment; "not," she expressly observed, panion, as if she doubted whether Ralph "that you should make it up for painting, himself were not the subject of dislike, but my dear, but because it's our custom some- seeing that her young friend was distressed, omes, to tll sitters what:tart we are apon, made no remark. in order that if there's any particular ex- "1 only ask of him," cont'nued Katc, pression they want introdluced, they may whose tears fell while she spoke, " that lhe throw it in at the time, you know." will move so little out of his way in my be"And when," said Miss La Creevy, after half, as to enable me by his recommendlaa long silence, to wit, an interval of full a tion-only by his recommendation-to earn, minute and a half, "when do you expect to literally, my bread and remain with mly ncsee your uncle again?" ther. Whether we shall ever taste happi "I scarcely know; I had expected to ness again, depends upon the fortunes of have seen him before now," replied Kate. my dear brother; but if lie will do this, and "Soon I hope, for this state of uncertainty Nicholas only tells us that he is well and is worse than anything." cheerful, I shall be contented." "I suppose he has money, hasn't he 3" As she ceased to speak there was a rust inquired Miss La Creevy. ling behind the screen which stood betweexl "He is very rich I have heard," rejoined her and the door, and some person Knocked Kate. "I don't know that he is, but I be- at the wainscot. lieve so." " Come in whoever it is," cred M'ss La "Ah, you may depend upon it he is, or Creevy. be wouldn't be so surly,"'-rmllarked Miss The person complied, Pnd cornmg for NICHOLAS NICKLEBY, sward at onice, gave to view the form and fast,'that after your uncle nas vrovi&dt m thatures of no less an individual than Mr. that most ready manner for Nilholao, he Ralph Nickleby himself. will not leave us until he has done at least "Your servant, ladies," said Ralph, look- the same for you.' These were my very ing sharply at them by turns. "You were words as near as I remember. Kate. my talking so loud that I was unable to make dear, why don't you thank your " you hear." "Let me proceed, ma'am, pray," said WVhen the man of business had a more Ralph, interrupting his sister-in-law in the than commonly Vicious snarl lurking at his full torrent of her discourse. neart, he had a trick of almost concealing "Kate, my love, let your uncle pro nis eyes under their thick and protruding ceed," said Mrs. Nickleby. brows for an instant, and then displaying "I am most anxious that he should, them in their full keenness. As lie did so mamma," rejoined Kate. now, and tried to keep down the smile "Well, my dear, if you are anxious that which parted his thin compressed lips, and he should, you had better allow your uncle puckered up the bad lines about his mouth, to say what he has to say, without interthey both felt certain that some part, if not ruption," observed Mrs. Nickleby, with the whole, of their recent conversation had many small nods and frowns. ",Your unSeen overheard. cle's time is very valuable, my dear'; and " I called in on my way up stairs, more however desirous you may be-and naturalthan half expecting to find you here," said ly desirous, as I am sure any affectionate Ralph, addressing his niece, and looking relations who have seen so little of your contemptuously at the portrait. "Is that uncle as we have, must naturally be —to my niece's portrait, ma'am "' protract the pleasure of having him among "Yes it is, Mr. Nickleby," said Miss La us, still we are bound not to be seifish, but Creevy, with a very sprightly air, "and be- to take into consideration the important tween you and me and the post, Sir, it will nature of his occupations in the city." be a very nice portrait too, though I say it "I am very much obliged to you, ma'am," who am the painter." said Ralph with a scarcely perceptible "Don't trouble yourself to show it to me,'sneer. " An absence of business habits in ma'am," cried Ralph, moving away, " I this family leads apparently to a great have no eye for likenesses. Is it nearly waste of words before business —when it finished?" does come under consideration- is arrived "Why, yes." replied Miss La Creevy, at, at all." considering with the pencil-end of her "I fear it is so indeed," replied Mrs. arusn in her mouth. "Two sittings more Nickleby with a sigh. " Your poor bro. will " ther- - " "' Have them at once, ma'am," said Ralph. "My poor brother, ma'am," interposed " She'll have no time to idle over fooleries Ralph tartly, " had no idea what business atter to-morrow. Work, ma'am, work; we was -was unacquainted, I verily believe, must all work. Have you let your lodg- with the very meaning of the word." ings, ma'am." "I fear he was," said Mrs. Nickleby, "I have not put a bill up yet, Slr." with her handkerchief to her eyes. "If it "Put it up at once, ma'am; they won't had'nt been for me, I don't know what warnt the rooms after this week, or if they would have become of him." do, can't pay for them. Now, my dear, if What strange creatures we are! The you're ready, we'll lose no more time." slight bait so skilfully thrown out by Ralph With an assumption of kindness which on their first interview was dangling on the sat worse upon him, even than his usual hook yet. At every small deprivation or manner, Mr. Ralph Nickleby motioned to discomfort which presented itself in the the young lady to precede him, and bowing course of the four-and-twenty hours to regravely to Miss La Creevy, closed the door mind her of her straitened and altered cir and followed up stairs, where Mrs. Nickleby cumstances, peevish visions of- her dower.received him with many expressions of re- of one thousand pounds had arisen before gard. Stopping them somewhat abruptly, Mrs. Nickleby's mind, until at last she had Ralph waved his hand with an impatient come to persuade herself that of all her late gesture, and proceeded to the object, of his husband's creditors she was the worst used visit, and the most to be pitied. And yet she had -" I have found a situation for your daugh- loved him dearly for many years, and had ter, ma'am," said Ralph. no greater share of selfishness than is the "Well," replied Mrs. Nickleby. "Now, usual lot of mortals. Such is the irritawill say that that is only just what I have bility of sudden poverty. A decent annuity eypecte, I of you.' Depend upon it,' I said would have restored her thoughts to tbli.l Kate vnl.';,:sterday morning at break- old train at once. NICHIOLAS NICKLEBY. 69 it Rteppinlg s.bf no use, ma'am," said manifested very intelligible symptoms of Ralph. "Of all fruitless errands, sending extreme impatience. s tear to look after a day that is gone is the "T'he lady's name," said Ralph, hastily mIost fruitless." striking in, " is Mantalini — Madame " So it is," sobbed Mrs. Nickleby, " so it is." Mantalini. I know her. She lives near "Asyou feel so keenly in your own purse Cavendish Square. If your daughter is and person the consequences of inattention disposed to try after the situation, I'11 take to business, ma'am," said Ralph, " I anm sure her there directly." you will impress upon your children the ne- "Have you nothing to say to your uncle, tessity of attaching themselves to it early my love " inquired Mrs. Nickleby. Xn life." "A great deal," replied Kate; " but not'"Of course I must see that," rejoined now. I would rather speak to him when,Mrs. Nickleby. "Sad experience, you we are alone; —it will save his time if 1 know, brother-in —law-. Kate, my dear, put thank him and say what I wish to say to that down in the next letter to Nicholas, or him as we walk along." remind me to do it if I write." With these words Kate hurried away, Ralph paused for a few moments, and to hide the traces of emotion that were seeing that he ha.d now made pretty sure stealing down her face and to prepare herof the mother in case the daughter objected self for the walk, while Mrs. Nickleby to his proposition, went on to say- amused her brother-in-law by giving him, "The situation that I have made interest with many tears, a detailed account of the to procure, ma'am, is with -- with a milli- dimensions of a rosewood cabinet piano ner and dress-maker, in short." they had possessed in their days of af. " A milliner!" cried Mrs. Nickleby. fluence, together'with a minute description "A milliner and dress-maker, ma'am," of eight drawing-room chairs with turned replied Ralph. " Dress-makers in London, legs and green chintz squabs to match the as I need not remind you, ma'am, who are curtains, which had cost two pounds fifteen so well acquainted with all matters in the shillings a-piece, and went at the sale for a ordinary routine of life, make large for- mere nothing. tunes, keep equipages, and become persons These reminiscences were at length cut of great wealth and fortune." short by Kate's return in her walking dress, Now, the first ideas called up in Mrs. when Ralph, who had been fretting and Nickleby's mind by the words milliner and fuming during the whole time of her abdress-maker were connected with certain sence, lost no time, and used very little wicker baskets lined with black oilskin, ceremony, in descending into the street. which she remembered to have seen carri- "Now," he said, taking her arm, " walk ed to and fro in the streets, but as Ralph as fast as you can, and you'll get into the proceeded these disappeared, and were re- step that you'll have to walk to business placed by visions of large houses at the wth every morning." So saying, he led West End, neat private carriages, and a Kite off at a good round pace. towards banker's book, all of which images suc- Ca`yendish Square. ceeded each other with such rapidity, that " I am very much obliged to you, uncle," lie had no sooner finished speaking than said the young lady, after they had hurried she nodded her head and said, " Very true," on in silence for some time; "very." with great appearance of satisfaction. "I'm glad to hear it," said Ralph. "1 "What your uncle says is very true, hope you'll do your duty." Kate, my dear," said Mrs. Nickleby. "I "1 will try to please, uncle," replied recollect when your poor papa and I came Kate; "indeed I " to town after we were married, that a "Don't begin to cry," growled Ralph; young lady brought me home a chip cot- 1" I hate crying." iage bonnet, with white and green trim- "It's very foolish, I know, uncle," began ming, and green persian lining, in her own poor Kate. carriage, which drove up to tie door full "It is," replied Ralph, stopping het gallop; — at least, I am not quite certain short, " and very affected besides. Let nme whether it was her own carriage or a see no more of it." hackney chariot but I remember very well Perhaps this was not the best way to that the horse dropped down dead as he dry the tears of a young and sensitive fewas turning round, and that your poor papa male about to make her first entry on an said he hadn't had any corn for a fortnight." entirely new scene of life, among cold and This anecdote, so strikingly illustrative uninterested strangers; but it had its efof the opulence of milliners, was not re- fect notwithstanding. Kate coloured deep. ceived with any great demonstration of ly, breathed quickly for a few moments, feeling, inasmu;a as Kate hung down her and then walked on with a firmer anc more head while it was relating, and Ralph determined step. 70 N1CHOLAS NICKLEBY. It was a curious contrast to see how the so you will go to nfs home that may be,;lnid country girl shrunk through the humble, every night." crowd that hurried up and down the streets, There was comfort in this. Kate pourer giving way to the press of people, and forth many thanks for her uncle's considera clinging closely to Ralph as though she tion, which Ralph received as if he?hac feared to lose him in the throng; and how deserved them all, and they arrived with. the stern and hard-featured man of business out any further conversation at the dress went doggedly on, elbowing the passengers maker's door, which displayed a very large aside, and now and then exchanging a plate, with Madame Mantalini's name and gruff salutation with some passing acquain- occupation, and was approached by a hand. lance, who turned to look back upon his some flight of steps. There was a shop tc pretty charge with looks expressive of sur- the house, but it was let off to an importer prise, and seemed to wonde-r at the ill-as- of ottar of roses. Madame Mantalini's showsorted companionship. But it would have rooms were on the first floor, a fact which been a stranger contrast still, to have read was notified to the nobility and gentry by the hearts that were beating side by side; the casual exhibition near the handsomely to have had laid bare the gentle innocence curtained windows of. two or three elegant of the one, and the rugged villany of the bonnets of the newest fashion, and some other; to have hung upon the guileless costly garments in the most approved taste. thoughts of the affectionate girl, and been A liveried footman opened the door, and amazed that among all the wily plots and in reply to Ralph's inquiry whether Macalculations of the old man, there should dame MIantalini was at home, ushered them not be one word or figure denoting thought through a handsome hall, and up a spacious of death or of the grave. But so it was; staircase, into the show saloon, which comand stranger still —though this is a thing prised two spacious drawing-rooms, and exof every day - the warm young heart hibited an immense variety of superb dresses palpitated with a thousand anxieties and and materials for dresses, some arranged on apprehensions, while that of the old world- stands, others laid carelessly on sofas, and ly man lay rusting in its cell, beating only others again scattered over the carpet, hangas a piece of cunning mechanism, and ing upon the cheval glasses, or mingling in yielding no one throb of hope, or fear, or some other way with the rich furniture of love, or care, for any living thing. various descriptions, which was profusely "Uncle," said Kate,. when she judged displayed. they must be near their destination, "I They waited here a much longer time must ask one question of you. I am to than was agreeable to Mr. Ralph Nickleby. live at home'" who eyed the gaudy frippery about him "At home!" replied Ralph; "where's with very little concern, and was at length that?" about to pull the bell, when a gentleman'"I mean with my mother — the widow," suddenly popped his head into the room, said Kate, emphatically. and seeing somebody there as suddenly pop. "You will live, to all intents and pur- ped it out again. poses, here," rejoined Ralph; "for here "Here. Hollo!" cried Ralph. "Who's you will take your meals, and here you that 3" will be from morning till night; occasion- At the sound of Ralph's voice the head ally perhaps till morning again." reappeared, and the mouth displaying a "But at night, I mean," said Kate; "I very long row of very white teeth, uttered cannot leave her, uncle. I must have in a mincing tone the words, "Denlmit. somre place that I can call a home; it will What, Nickieby! oh, demmit!" tHaving be wherever she is, you know, and may be uttered which ejaculations, the gentleman a very humble one." advanced, and shook hands with Ralph with "May be!" said Ralph, walking faster great warmth. He was dressed in a gorge. in the impatience provoked by the remark, ons morning gown, with a waistcoat and " must be, you mean. May be a humble Turkish trousers of the same pattern, a one! Is the girl mad 3" pink silk neckerchief, and bright green slip'The word slipped from my lips, I did pers, and had a very copious watch-ctain not mean it indeed," urged Kate. wound round his body. Mporeover, he had "I hope not," said Ralph. whiskers and a moustache, both dyed black "But my question, uncle; you have not and gracefully curled. answered it." "Demmit, you don't mean to say you "Why, I anticipated something of the want me, do you, demmit?" said this aen kind." said Ralph; "and-though I object tleman, smiting Ralph on the shoulder. very strongly, mind-have provided against " Not yet," said Ralph, sarcastically. It I spoke of you as an out-of-door worker; "Ha! ha! demmit," cried the gentle NICHOLAS N ICKILEBY.' man; when wheeling round to laugh with "I didn't even know Mr. Nickleby was greater Eiegance, he encountered Kate here, my love," said Madamne Mantalini. Nickleby, who was standing near. " Then what a doubly demd infernal "My niece," said Ralph. rascal that footman must be, my soul," re-'' I remember," said the gentlem an,strik- morlstrated Mr. Mlantalini. ing his nose with the knuckle of his fore- " ly dear," said Madame, "that is enfingler as a chastening for his forgetfulness. tirely your fault." "' Diemmit, I remember what you come fo)r. "My fault, my heart's joy?" Step this way, Nickleby; my dear, will you " Certainly," returned the lady; "whatl follow me? I1(a! ha! They all follow me, can you expect, dearest, if you will not Nickleby; always did, demmit, always." correct the man?" Giving loose to the playfulness of his " Correct the man, my soul's delight I" imragination after this fashion, the gentle- "Yes; I am sure he wants speaking to, man led the way to a private sitting-room badly enough," said Madame, pouting. on the second floor scarcely less elegantly "Then do not vex itself," said Mr. Manfurnished than the apartment below, talini; "heshall be horse-whipped till he wh-llere the presence of a silver coffee-pot, an cries out deinnebly." With this promise egg-shell, and sloppy china for one seemed Mr. Mantalini kissed Madame Mantalini, to show that he had just breakfasted. and after that performance Madame Man. " Sit down, my dear," said the gentle- talini pulled Mr. Mantalini playfully by man: first staring Miss Nickleby out of the ear, which done they descended to countenance, and then grinning in delight business. at the achievement. "4 This cursed high "Now, ma'am." said Ralph, who had room takes one's breath away. These in- looked on at all this, with such scorn as fernail sky parlours-I'm afraid I must few men can express in looks, " this is my move, Nickleby." niece." " I would, by all means," replied Ralph, " Just so, Mr. Nickleby," replied Malooking bitterly round. dame Mantalini, surveying Kate from' W hat a deind rum fellow you are, Nic- head to foot and back again. "Can you kleby," said the gentleman, " the demdest, speak French, child?" (longest-headed,queerest-tempered old coin- "Yes, ma'am," replied Kate, not daring er of gold and silver ever was-demmit." to look up; for she felt that the eyes of IHaving complimented Ralph to this ef- the odious man in the dressing-gown were feet, the gentleman rang the bell, and directed towards her. stared at Miss Nickleby till it was answer- "Like a demd native?" asked the hused, when he left off to bid the man desire band. his mistress to come directly; after which Miss Nickleby offered no reply to this he. began again, and left off no more till inquiry, but turned her back upon the Madwane Mantalini appeared. questioner, as if addressing herself to The dress-maker was a buxom person, make answer to what his wife might de. handsomely dressed and rather good-look- mand. ing but much older than the gentleman in "fWe keep twenty young women contile Turkish trousers, whom she had wed- stantly employed in the establishment," ded some six months before. His name said Madame. wtas originally Muntle; but it had been "Indeed, ma'am!" replied Kate, timidly. converted, by an easy transition, into Man- "Yes; and some of'em demd handtalini: the lady rightly considering that some, too," said the master. an English appellation would be of seri- "Mantalini i" exclaimed his wife, in an ous injury to the business. He had mar- awful voice. ri-cd o(n his whiskers, upon which property "My senses' idol!" said Mantalini. he had previously subsisted in a genteel " Do you wish to break my heart?" milnnerc for some years, and which he had " Not for twenty thousand hemispheres recently improved after patient cultivation populated with-with-with little balletby the addition of a moustache, which dancers," replied Mantalini in a poetical prm)ised to secure him an easy indepen- strain." denlue: his share in the labours of the "Then yoq will, if you persevere in business being at present confined to that mode of speaking," said his wife. spending the money, and occasionally "What can Mr. Nickleby think when he when that ran short, driving to Mr. Ralph hears you?" Nickleby to procure discount-at a per "Oh! N6thing, ma'am, nothing," racentage-for the customers' bills. plied Ralph. " I know his amiable nature, "My life," said Mr. Mantalini, what a and yours,-mere little remarks that give demd devil of a time you have been i" a zest to your daily intercourse; lovers' 5 T2 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. quarrels that add sweetness to those do- "Nothing more, na'am," replied Ralph, mestic joys which promise to last so long rising. -that's all; that's all." " Then I believe that's all," said the If an iron door could be supposed to lady. ILaving arrived at this natural conquarrel with its hidiges, and to make a elusion, she looked at the door, as if she firm resolution to open with slow obsti- wished to be gone, but hesitated notwithnacy, and grind them to powder in the standing, as though unwilling to leave to process, it would emit a pleasanter sound Mr. Mantalini the sole honour of showing in so doing, than did these words in the them down stairs. Ralph relieved her rough and bitter voice in which they were from her perplexity by taking his deparuttered by Ralph. Even Mr. Mantalini ture without delay: Mad:ame Mantalin.; felt their influence, and turning affrighted making many gracious inquiries why he round, exclaimed-" What a demd horrid never came to see them, and Mr. Mantacroaking!" lini anathematizing the stairs with great " You will pay no attention, if you volubility as he followed them down, in please, to what Mr. Mantalini says," ob- the hope of inducing Kate to look round, served his wife, addressing Miss Nickleby. -a hope, however, which was destined to " I do not, ma'am," said Kate, with remain ungratified. quiet contempt. "There!" said Ralph when they got "Mr. Mantalini knows nothingwhatever into the street; "now you're provided about any of the young women," continued for." Madame, looking at her husband, and Kate was about to thank him again, speaking to Kate. " If he has seen any but stopped her. of them, he must have seen them in the " I had some idea," he said, " of prostreet going to, or returning from,,. their viding for your mother in a pleasant part work, and not here. He was never even in of the country-(he had a presentation to the room. I do not allow it. What hours some alms-houses on the borders of Cornof work have you been accustomed to?" waill, which had occurred to him more " I have never yet been accustomed to than once)-but' as you want to be towork at all, ma'am," replied Kate, in a gether, I must do something else for her. low voice. She has a little money?" " For which reason she'll work all the " A very little," replied Kate. better now," said Ralph, putting in a "A little will go a long way if it's used word, lest this confession should injure sparingly," said Ralph. "She must see the negotiation. how long she can make it last, living rent "I hope so," returned Madame Manta- free. You leave your lodgings on Satur lini; "our hours are from nine to nine, day?" with extra work when we're very fuill of "You told us to do so, uncle." business, for which I allow payment as "Yes; there is a house empty that beover-time." longs to me, which I can put you into till Kate bowed her head to intimate that it is let, and then, if nothing else turns she heard, and was satisfied. up, perhaps I shall have another. You "Your meals," continued Madame Man- must live there." talini, " that is, dinner and tea, you will "Is it far from here, Sir?" inquired take here. I should think your wages Kate. would average from five to seven shillings "Pretty well," said Ralph; "in another aweek; but I can't give you any certain quarter of the town-at the East end; information on that point until I see what but I'll send my clerk down to you at five you can do." o'clock on Saturday to take you there. Kate bowed her head again. Good bye. You know your way? Straight " If you're ready to come," said Ma- on." dame Mantalini, " you had better begin Coldly shaking his niece's hand, Ralph on Monday morning at nine exactly, and left her at the top of Regent street, and AMiss Knag the forewoman shall then have turned down a bye thoroughfare, intent directions to try you with some easy work on schemes of money-getting. Kate walk. at first. Is there anything,-nore, Mr. Nic- ed sadly back to their lbdgings in the kleby I" j Stran i. NICHIOLAS NICKLEBY. T CHAPTER XI. 4PR. NEWMA: NO(GGS INDUCTS MRS. AND MISS NICKLEBY INTO THEIR NZW DWELLING IN THE CITY. Miss NICKLEBY'S reflections as she wend- fashionable, and she had a very red facet — ed her way homewards, were of that de- a very red face, indeed." sponding nature which the occurrences of "Perhaps she drank," suggested Miss the morning had been sufficiently calcula- La Creevy. ted to awaken. Her uncle's was not a "I don't know how that may have manner likely to dispel any doubts or ap- been," returned Mrs. Nickleby; "but I prehensions she might have formed in the know she had a very red face, so your aroutset, neither was the glimpse she had had gument goes for nothing." of Madame Mantalini's establishment by In this manner, and with like powerful any means encouraging. It was with many reasoning, did the worthy matron meet gloomy forebodings and misgivings, there- every little objection that presented itself fore, that she looked forward with a heavy to the new scheme of the morning. Hapheart to the opening of her new career. py Mrs. Nickleby! A project had but to be If her mother's consolations could have new, and it came home to her mind brightrestored her to aipleasanter and more envi- ly varnished and gilded as a glittering toy. able state of mind, there were abundance This question disposed of, Kate commuof them to produce the effect. By the time nicated her uncle's desire about the empty Kate reached home, the good lady had call- house, to which Mrs. Nickleby assented ed to mind two authentic cases of milliners with equal readiness, characteristically rewho had been possessed of considerable marking, that on the fine evenings it would property, though whether they had ac- be a pleasant amusement for her to walk quired it all in business, or had had a cap- to the west-end to fetch her daughter home; ital to start with, or had been lucky and and no less characteristically forgetting, married to advantage, she could not exact- that there were such things as wet nights ly remember. However, as she very logi- and bad weather to be encountered in alcally remarked, there must have been some most every week of the year. young person in that way of business who "I shall be sorry-truly sorry to leave;ad made a fortune without having any- you, my kind friend," said Kate, on whom thing to begin with, and that being taken the good feeling of the poor miniaturefor granted, why should not Kate do the painter had made a deep impression. same? Miss La Creevy, who was a mem- "You shall not shake me off for all berof the little council, ventured to insinu- that," replied Miss La Creevy, with as ate some doubts relative to the probability much sprightliness as she could assume. of Miss Nickleby's arriving at this happy " I shall see you very often, and come and consummation in the compass of an ordi- hear how you get on; and if in all London, nary lifetime; but the good lady set that or all the wide world besides, there is no question entirely at rest, by informing them other heart that takes an interest in your that she had a presentiment on the subject welfare, there will be one little lonely wo-a species of second-sight with which she man that prays for it night and day." had been in the habit of clenching every With this the poor-soul, who had a heart argument with the deceased Mr. Nickleby, big enough for Gog, the guardian genius and in nine cases and three-quarters out of of London, and enough to spare for Magog every ten, determining it the wrong way. to boot, after making a great many extras " I am afraid it is an unhealthy occupa- ordinary faces which would have secured tion," said Miss La Creevy. " I recollect her an ample fortune, could she have getting three young milliners to sit to me transferred them to ivory or canvass, sat when I first began to paint,and I remember down in a corner, and had what she termed that they were all very pale and sickly." "a real good.cry." "Oh! that's not a general tnie, by any But no crying, or talking, or holing, or means," observed Mrs. Nickleby; "for I fearing, could keep off the dreaded Saturremember as well as if it was only yester- day afternoon, or Newman Noggs either, tlay, employing one that I was particular who, punctual to his time, limped up to the tj recommended to, t) make me a scarlet door and breathed a whiff of cordial gin dlak at the time when scarlet cloaks were through the keyhole, exactly as such of 7: NICH:OLAS NICKLEBY the church clocks in the neighbourhood as the appearance of a goutr sulbjecc, ar. so agreed among themselves about the time, Kate could not help thinking; Iut the construck five. Newman waited for the last ference was cut short by MIrs. Nicklelv's stroke, and then knocked. insisting on having the door shut lest Mr. "' From Mr. Ralph Nickleby," saidNew- Noggs should take cold, and further perman, announcing his errand when he got sisting in sending the servant girl f'.)r a up stairs with all possible brevity. coach, for fear he should bring on another "We sball be ready directly," said Kate. attack of his disorder. To both conrlitions' We have not much to carry, but I fear Newman was compelled to yield. Prewe must have a coach." sently the coach came; and, after many "I'll get one," replied Newman. sorrowful farewells, and a great deal of "Indeed you shall not trouble your- running backwards and forwards across self," said Mrs. Nickleby. the pavement on the part of Mliss La Cree"I will," said Newman. vy, in the course of which the yellow tur" I can't suffer you to think of such a ban came into violent contact with sundry -thing." said Mrs. Nickleby. foot passengers, it (that is to say the coach, " You can't help it," said Newman. not the turban) went away again with the " Not help it!" two ladies and their luggage inside; and "No. I thought of it as I came along; Newman —despite all Mrs. Nickleby's asbut didn't get one, thinking you mightn't surances that it would be his death —on be ready. I think of a great many things. the box beside the driver. Nobody can prevent that." They went into the City, turning down "i. Oh yes, I understand you, Mr. Noggs," by the river side; and after a long and said Mrs. Nickleby. "Our thoughts are very slow drive, the streeti# being crowded free, of course. Everybody's thoughts are at that hour with vehicles of every kind, their own, clearly." stopped in front of a large old dingy house " They wouldn't be if some people had in Thames Street, the door and windows their way," muttered Newman. of which were so bespattered with mud, " Well, no more they would, Mr. Noggs, that it would have appeared to have been and that's very true," rejoined Mrs. Nic- uninhabited for years. kleby. " Some people, to be sure, are The door of this deserted mansion New. such —how's your master?" man opened with a key which he took out Newman darted a meaning glance at of his hat-in which, by-the-bye, in conseKate, and replied with a'strong emphasis quence of the dilapidated state of his pockon the last word of his answer, that Mr. ets, he deposited everything, and would Ralph Nickleby was well, and sent his — most likely have carried his money if he love. had had any-and the coach being dis" I am sure we are very much obliged charged, he led the way into the interior to him," observed Mrs. Nickleby. of the mansion. " Very," said Newman. "I'll tell him Old and gloomy and black in truth it:SO." was, and sullen and dark were the rooms It was no very easy matter to mistake once so bustling with life and enterprise. Newman Noggs after having once seen There was a wharf behind, opening on the him, and as Kate, attracted by the singu- Thames. An empty dog-kennel, some larity of his manner (in which on this oc- bones of animals, fragments of iron hoops casion, however, there was something re- and staves of old casks, lay strewn about, speotful and even delicate, notwithstand- but no life was stirring there. It was a ing the abruptness of his speech), looked picture of cold, silent decay. at him more closely, she recollected having " This house depresses and chills one," caught a passing glimpse of that strange said Kate, " and seems as if some blight figure before. had fallen on it. If I were superstitious, "Excuse my curiosity," she said, " but I should be almost inclined to believe that did I not see you in the coach-yard on the some dreadful crime had been perpetrated morning my brother went away to York- within these old walls, and that the place shire?";had never prospered since. Hlow frownNewman east a wistful glance on Mrs. ing and dark it looks!" Nickleby, and said " No," most unblush- "Lord, my dear," replied Mrs. NicklenDgly. bfy, "don't talk in that way, or you'll "No I" exclaimed Kate, "I should have irighten me to death." said so anywhere." "It is only my foolish fancy, mamma," "You'd have said wrong,"rejoined New- said Kate, forcing a smile. man. " It's the first time I've been out " Well, then, my love, I wish you would Jkr three weeks. I've had the gout." keep your foolish fancy to yourself, and not Newman was very, very far from having wake up my foolish fancy to keep it corn NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 75 pany," retorted Mrs. Nickleby. " Why the wharf, or begged the coals. But the didn't you think of all this before-you are notion of Ralph Nickleby having directed so careless-we might have asked Miss La it to be done tickled his fancy so much, Creevy to keep us company, or borrowed a that he could not refrain from cracking all dog, or a thousand things —but it always his ten fingers in succession, at which perwas the way, and was just the same with formance Mrs. Nickleby was rather startled your poor dear father. Unless I thought at first, but supposing it to be in some of everything — " This was Mrs. Nic- remote manner connected with the gout, kleby's usual commencement of a general did not remark upon. lamentation, running through a dozen or so "We need detain you no longer, I of complicated sentences addressed to no- think," said Kate. body in particular, and into which she now "Is there nothing I can do?" asked launched until her breath was exhausted. Newman. Newman appeared not to hear these re- "Nothing, thank you," rejoined Miss marks, but preceded them to a couple of. Nickleby. rooms on the first floor, which some kind " Perhaps my dear, Mr. Noggs would like of attempt had been made to render habit- to drink our healths," said Mrs. Nickleby, able. In one were a few chairs, a table, an fumbling in herreticule forsome small coin. old hearth-rug, and some faded baize; and "I think, mamma," said Kate hesia fire was ready laid in the grate. In the tating and remarking Newman's averted other stood an old tent bedstead, and a few face, " you would hurt his feelings if you scanty articles of chamber furniture. offered it." " Well my dear," said Mrs. Nickleby, try- Newman Noggs, bowing to the young ing to be pleased, "now isn't this thought- lady more like a gentleman than the miseful anrid considerate of your uncle? Why, rable wretch he seemed, placed his hand we should not have had anything but the upon his breast, and, pausing for a mobed we bought yesterday to lie down upon, ment, with the air of a man who struggles if it hadn't been for his thoughtfulness." to speak but is uncertain what to say, "Very kind, indeed," replied Kate, look- quitted the room. ing round. As the jarring echoes of the heavy Newman Noggs did not say that he had house-door closing on its latch reverberhunted up the old furniture they saw, from ated dismally through the building, Kate attic or cellar; or that he had taken in the felt half tempted to call him back, and beg halfpenny-worth of milk for tea that stood him to remain a little while; but she was upon a shelf, or filled the rusty kettle on ashamed to own her fears, and Newman the hob, or collected the wood-chips from Noggs was on his road homewards. CHAPTER XII. WHEREBY THE READER WILL BE ENABLED TO TRACE THE FURTHER COURSE OF MISS FANNY SQUEERS'S LOVE, AND TO ASCERTAIN WHETHER IT RAN SMOOTHLY OR OTHERWISE. IT was a fortunate circumstance for Miss Squeers in her own room according to cusFanny Squeers, that when her worthy papa tom, to curl her hair, perform the other lit. returned home on the night of the small tle offices to her toilet, and administer as tea-party, he was what the initiated term much flattery as she could get up for the " too far gone" to observe the numerous purpose; for Miss Squeers was quite lazy tokerns of extreme vexation of spirit which enough (and sufficiently vain and frivolous were plainly visible in her countenance. withal) to have been a fine lady, and it was Being, however, of a rather violent and only the arbitrary distinctions of rank and quarrelsome mood in his cups, it is not im- station which prevented herfrom being cne. possible that he might have fallen out with " flow lovely your'hair do curl to-night, her, either on this or some imaginary topic, Miss!" said the handmaiden. " I declare if the young lady had not, with a foresight if it isn't a pity and a shame to brush it and prudence highly commedable, kept a out!" boy up on purpose to bear the first brunt of "Hold your tongue," replied Miss the good gentleman's anger; which having Squeers wrathfully. vented itself in a variety of kicks and cuffs, Some considerable experience prevented subsided sufficiently to admit of his being the girl from being at all surprised at any persuaded to go to bed; which he did with outbreak of ill-temper on the part of Miss his boots on, and an umbrella under his arm. Sqeeers. Hnaving a half perception of what The hungry servant attended Miss had occurred in the course of the evening 79 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. she changed her mode of making herself "Phib," said Miss Squeers dtamatically, agreeable, and proceeded on the indirect "I insist on your explainining yourself. tack. W\That is this dark mystery? Speak." "Well, I couldn't help saying, miss, if "Why, if you will have it, miss, it's you was to kill me for it," paid the attend-. this;" said the servant girl. " Mr. John ant, "that, I never see anybody look so Browdie thinks as you think; and if he vulgar as Miss Price this night." wasn't too far gone to do it creditable, Miss Squeers sighed, and composed her- he'd be very glad to be off swith MIi:3s self to listen. Price, and on with Miss Squeers." "I know it's very wrong in me to say "Gracious Heavens!" exclaimed Miss so, miss," continued the girl, delighted to Squeers, clasping her hands with great see the impression she was making, " Miss dignity. "What is this?" Price being a friend of yours and all; but "Truth, ma'am, and nothing but truth," she do dress herself out so, and go in such replied the artful Phib. a manner to get noticed, that-oh-well, "What a situation!" cried Miss Squeers, if people only saw themselves." " on the brink of unconsciously destroying " What do you mean, Phib?" asked Miss the peace and happiness of my own'Tilda. Squeers, looking in her own little glass, What is the reason that men fall in love where, like most of us, she saw-not her- with ime, whether I like it or not, and deself, but the reflection of some pleasant im- sert their chosen intendeds for my sake!" age in her own brain.f " IHow you talk!" " Because they can't help it, miss," re"Talk, miss! it's enough to make a plied the girl; "the reason's plain." (If Tom-cat talk French grammar, only to see Miss Squeers were the reason it was very how she tosses her head," replied the plain.) handmaid. "Never let me hear of it again," re" She does toss her head," observed Miss torted. Miss Squeers. " Never; do you Squeers, with an air of abstraction. hear?'Tilda Price has faults-many faults " So vain, and so very-very plain," -but I wish her well, and above all I wish said the girl. her married; for I think it highly desirable "Poor'Tilda!" sighed Miss Squeers, — most desirable from the very nature of compassionately. her failings-that she should be married "And always laying herself out so to as soon as possible. No, Phib. Let her get to be admired," pursued the servant. have Mr. Browdie. I may pity himr, poor "Oh dear! It's positive indelicate." fellow; but I have a great regard for'Tilda, "I can't allow you to talk in that way, and only hope she may make a better wife Phib,"saidMissSqueers. "'Tilda'sfriends than I think she will." are low people, and if she don't know any With this effusion of feeling Miss better it's their fault, and not hers." Squeers went to bed. "'Well, but you know, miss," said Phoebe, Spite is a little word; but it represents for which name " Phib" was used as a pa- as strange a jumble of feelings and comtronising abbreviation, " if she was only pound of discords, as any polysyllable in to take copy by a friend-oh! if she only the language. Miss Squeers knew as well knew how wrong she was, and would but in her heart of hearts, that what the misset herself right by you, what. a nice erable serving girl had said was sheer young woman she might be in time I" coarse lying flattery, as did the girl herself "Phib," rejoined Miss Squeers, with a yet the mere opportunity of venting a little stately air, " it's not proper for me to hear ill-nature against the offending Miss Price these comparisions drawn; they make'Til- and affecting to compassionate her weak da look a coarse improper sort of person, nesses and foibles, though only in the pre and it seems unfriendly in me to listen to sence of a solitary dependant, was almost them. I would rather you dropped the as great a relief to her spleen as if the subject, Phib; at the same time I must whole had been gospel truth. Nay more. say, that if'Tilda Price would take pattern We have such extraordinary powers of per by somebody-not me particularly —-" suasion when they are exerted over our "Oh yes; you, miss," interposed Phib. selves, that Miss Squeers felt quite high"Well, me Phib, if you will have it so," minded and great after her noble renunciasaid Miss Squeers. "I must say that if she tion of John Browdie's hand, and looked would, she would be all the better for it." down upon her rival with a kind of holy "So somebody else thinks, or I am much calmness and tranquillity that had a mighty mistaken," said the girl mysteriously. effect in soothing her ruffled feelings. "What do you mean?" demanded Miss This happy state of mind had some in$queers. fluence in bringing about a reconciliation, " Never mind, miss," replied the girl; for when a knock came at the front door " I know, what I know that's all." next day, and the miller's daughter was an NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 77 nounced. Miss Squeers betook herself to spiteofill tears, and exclaimed,lat she was a the parlour in a Christian frame of spirit wretched, neglected, miserable, castaway, perfectly beautiful to behold. "I hate eve::ybody," said MIiss Squeers, " Well, Fanny," said the miller's daugh- "and I wish that everybody was deadter, "you see I have come to see you, al- that I do." though we had some words last night." " Dear, dear!" said Miss Price, quits " I pity your bad passions,'Tilda," re- moved by this avowal of misalnthropical plied Miss Squeers; " but I bear no malice. sentiments. "You are not serious, I am 1 am above it." sure." " Don't be cross, Fanny," said Miss " Yes, I am," rejoined Miss Squeers, Price. " I have come to tell you some- tying tight knots in her pocket-handkerthing that I know will please you." chief and clenching her teeth. " And I' "What may that be,'Tilda?" demanded wish I was dead too. There." Miss Squeers; screwing up her lips, and "Oh! you'll think very differently in looking as if nothing in earth, air, fire, or another five minutes," said Matilda. "'Iow water, could afford her the slightest gleam much better to take him into favour again, of satisfaction. than to hurt yourself by going on in that "This," rejoined Miss Price. "After way; wouldn't it be much nicer now to we left here last night, John and I had a have him all to yourself on good terms, in dreadful quarrel." a company-keeping, love-making, pleasant " That doesn't please me," said Miss sort of manner?" Squeers-relaxing into a smile though. "I don't know but what it would," "Lor! I wouldn't think so bad of you sobbed Miss Squeers. " Oh!'Tilda, how as to suppose it did," rejoined her cornm- could you have acted so mean and dispanion. "T'lhat's not it." honourable? I wouldn't have believed it " Oh!" said Miss Squeers, relapsing of you if anybody had told mne." into melancholy. " Go on." "IHeydey!" exclaimed Miss Price, gig"After a great deal of wrangling and gling. "i' One would suppose I had been saying we would never see each other any murdering somebody at least." more," continued Miss Price, " we made it "Very nigh as bad,"' said Miss Squeers up, and this morning John went and wrote passionately. our names down to be put up for the first "And all this because I happen to have time next Sunday, so we shall be married enough of good looks to make people civil in three weeks, ard I give you notice to to me," cried Miss Price. " Persons don't get your frock made.' make their own faces, and it's no more my T'ler' was mingled gall and honey in fault if mine is a good one than it is other this intelligence. The prospect of the people's fault if theirs is a bad one." friend's being married so soon was the gall, "IHold your tongue," shrieked Miss and the certainty of her not entertaining Squeers, in her shrillest tone; "or you'll serious designs upon Nicholas was the make me slap you,'Tilda, and afterwards honey. Upon the whole, the sweet greatly I should be sorry for it." preponderated over the bitter, so Miss It is needless to say that by this time the Squeers said she would get the frock made, temper of each young lady was in some and that she hoped'Tilda might be happy, slight degree affected by the tone of the though at the same time she didn't know, conversation, and that a dash of personand would not have her build too much ality was infused into the altercation in upon it, for men were strange creatures, consequence. Indeed the quarrel, from and a great many married women were slight beginnings, rose to a considerable very miserable, and wished themselves sin- height, and was assuming a very viclent gle again with all their hearts; to which complexion, when both parties, falling into condolences Miss Squeers added others a great passion of tears, exclaimed siniequally calculated to raise her friend's spi- ultaneously, that they had never thought rits and promote her cheerfulness of mind. of being spoken to in that way, which ex" But come now, Fanny," said Miss clamation, leading to a remonstrance, Price, " I want to have a word or two with gradually brought on an explanation, and y,u about young Mr. Nickleby." the upshot was- that they fell into each " IIe is nothing to me," interrupted Miss other's arms and vowed eternal friendship; Squeers, with hysterical symptoms. " I the occasion in question, making the fiftyp despise him too much!" second time of repeating the same irnm"Oh, you don't mean that, I am sure?" pressive ceremony within a twelvemonth. replied her friend. "Confess, Fanny; Perfect amicability being thus restored, don't you like him now?" a dialogue naturally ensued upon the nurn%V ithout returning any direct reply, Miss ber and nature of the garments which Squeers all at once fell into a paroxysm of would be indispensable for Miss Price's on: rTO NICIHOLAS NICKLEBY. batr'ee into the holy state of matrimony, Miss Price, affecting alarm at hibr friend'a when Miss Squeers clearly showed that a threat, but really actuated by a malicious great many more than the miller could, or wish to hear what Nicholas would say; Would,' afford were absolutely necessary, "come back, Mr. Nickleby." and could not decently be dispensed with. Mr. Nickleby came back, and looked as The young lady then, by an easy digres- confused as might be, as he inquired whe. sion, led the discourse to her -own ward- ther the ladies had any commands for hinm. robe, and after irecountinl its principal "Don't stop to talk," urged Miss Pr'ice, beauties at some length, took her friend up hastily; "but support her on the Oth~ r stairs to make ifispection thereof. The side. How do you feel not. dear?" treasures of two dcraweri' and" a closet "Better," sighed Mios Squeers, laying having been displayed, and all the smaller a beaver bonnet of reddish brown with a articles tried on, it was time for Miss Price green veil attached, on Mr. Nickleby's to return home, and as she had been in shoulder. " This is foolish faintness!" raptures with all the frocks, and had been "Don't call it foolish, dear," said Miss stricken quite dumb with admiration of a Price, her bright eye dancing with melrinew pink scarf, Miss Squeers said in high ment as she saw the perplexity of Nichogood humour, that she would walk part las; "you have no reason to be ashamed of the way with her for the pleasure of her of it. It's those who are too proud to come company; and off they went together, Miss round again without all this to-do, that Squeers dilating, as they walked along, ought to be ashamed." upon her father's accomplishments, and "You are resolved to fix it upon me, I multiplying his income by ten, to give her see," said Nicholas, smiling, " although I friend some faint notion of the vast im- told you last night it was not my fault." portance and superiority of her family. "There; he says it was not his fault, It happened that that particular time, my dear," remarked the wicked Miss Price. comprising the short daily interval which "Perhaps you were too jealous or too hasty was suffered to elapse between what was with him? Ile says it was not his fault, pleasantly called the dinner of Mr. you hear; I think tha;t's apology enough." Squeers's pupils and their return to the "You will not understand me," said pursuit of useful knowledge, was precisely Nicholas. " Pray dispense with this jestthe hour when Nicholas was accustomed ing, for I have no time, and really no into issue forth for a melancholy walk, anrd clination, to be the subject or promoter to blood, as he sauntered listlessly through of mirth just now." th6d' village, upon his miserable lot. Miss "What do you mean?" asked Miss Squeers knew this perfectly well, but had Price, affecting amazement. perhaps forgotten it, for when she caught " Don't ask him,'Tilda," cried Miss sight of that young gentleman advancing Squeers; " I forgive him." towards them, she evinced many symptoms " Dear me," said Nicholas, as the brown of surprise and consternation, and assured bonnet went down on his shoulder again, her friend that she " felt fit to drop into " this is more serious than I supposed; the earth." allow me. Will you have the goodness' Shall we turn back, or run into a cot- to hear me speak?" tage?" asked Miss Price. " He don't see Here he raised up the brown bonnet, us yet." and regarding with most unfeigned as"No,.'Tilda," replied Miss Squeers, " it tonishment a look of tender reproach from is my duty to go through with it, and I Miss Squeers, shrunk back a few paces to will." be out of the reach of the fair burden, and As Miss Squeers said this in the tone of went on to sayone who has made a high moral resolution, " I am very sorry-truly anid Eineerely'and was besides taken with one or two sorry —for having been the cause cf ary chokes and catchings of breath, indicative difference among you last ni.ght. I rof feelings at a high pressure, her friend proach myself most bitterly for having been made no farther remark, and they bore so unfortunate as to cause the dissension straight down upon Niholas, who, walk- that occurred, although I did so, I assure ing with his eyes bent upon the ground, you, most unwittingly and heedlessly." was not aware of their approach until they' "Well; that's not all you have got to were close upon him; otherwise he might say, surely," exclaimed Miss Price as perhaps have taken shelter himself. Nicholas paused. "Good morning," said Nicholas, bow- "I fear there is something more," steming and passing by. mered Nicholas with a half smile, and look"lie is going," murmured Miss Squeers. ing towards Miss Squeers, " it is a nmost " I shall choke,'Tilbia." awkward thing to say-but-the very; "Come back, Mr Nickleby, do," cried mention of such a supposition makes one NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 79 rook like a puppy —still-may I ask if in every day she could wound his pride. aoll that lady supposes that I entertain any- goad him with the infliction of soile sli;11t, in shlort does she think that I am in love or insult, or deprivation, which could not with her?" but have some effect on the inost insensiD' Ielightful embarrassment," thought ble person, and must be acutely felt by Miss Sqcpeers, " I have brought him to it one so sensitive as Nicholas. With tllese at last. Answer for me, dear," she whis- two reflections uppermost in her mlirnl, perc(i to her friend.. Miss Squeers made the best of the man:tr " Does she think so?" rejoined Miss to her friend by observing, that Mr. NicPrice; "of course she does." kleby was such an odd creature, and of "She does I" exclaimed Nich)las with such a violent temper, that she feared she such energy of utterance as might have should be obliged to give him up; ainl been for the moment mistaken for rapture. parted from her. " Certainly," replied Miss Price. And here it may be remarked, that M3iss " If Mr. Nickleby has doubted that, Squeers having bestowed her affections (or'Til(da," said the blushing Miss Squeers in whatever it might be that in the absence soft accents, " he may set his mind at rest. of anything better represented them) on His sentiments are recipro-" Nicholas Nickleby, had never once serif " Stop," cried Nicholas hurriedly; "pray ously contemplated the possibility of his hear me. This is the grossest and wildest being of a different opinion from herself in delusion, the completest and most signal the business. Miss Squeers reasoned that mistake, that ever human being laboured she was prepossessing and beautiful, and under or committed. I have scarcely seen that her father was master and Nicholas the young lady half a dozen times, but if I man, and that her father had saved money had seen her sixty times, or am destined to and Nicholas had none, all of which seemsee her sixty thousand, it would be and will ed to her conclusive arguments why the be precisely the same. I have not one young man should feel only too much honthouohit, wish or hope, connected with her oured by her preference. She had not uniess it be-and I say this, not to hurt failed to recollect, either, how much more her feelings, but to impress her with the agreeable she could render his situation if real state of my own-unless it be the one she were his friend, and how much mlore object dear to my heart as life itself, of be- disagreeable if she were his enemy; andt ing one day able to turn my back upon doultless, many less scrupulous young this accursed place, never to set foot in it gentlemen than Nicholas would have enagain or to think of it —even think of it couraged her extravagance had it been -bnt with loathing and disgust." only for this very obvious and intelligible With this particularly plain and straight- reason. However, he had thought proper forward declaration, which he made with to do otherwise, and Miss Squeers was all the vehemence that his indignant and outrageous. excited feelings could bring to bear upon "Let him see," said the irritated young it, Nicholas slightly bowed, and waiting lady when she had regained her own roomn, to hear no more, retreated. and eased her mind by committing an But poor Miss Squeers! Her anger, assault on Phib, "if I don't set mother rage, and vexation; the rapid succession against him a little more when she comes o,f bitter and passionate feelings that whirl- back." ed through her mind, are not to be de- It was scarcely necessary to do this, but scribed. Refused! refused by a teacher Miss Squeers was as good as her word; picked up by advertisement, at an annual and poor Nicholas, in addition to bad food, salary of five pounds, payable at indefinite dirty lodgement, and the being comlpelled periods, and " found" in food and lodging to witness one dull unvarying round of like the very boys themselves; and this too squalid misery, was treated with every spe ill the presence of a little chit of a miller's cial indignity that malice could suggest, o.t daughter of eighteen, who was going to be the most grasping cupidity put upon hilm. married in three weeks' time to a man who Nor was this all. There was anothlier had gone down on his very knees to ask and deeper system of annoyance which her! She could have choked in ri(ght good made his heart sink, and nearly drove earnest at the thought of being so humbled. him wild by its injustice and cruelty. But there was one thing clear in the The wretched creature, Smike, since the midst of ler mortification, and that was night Nicholas had spoken kindly to him in that she halted and detested Nicholas with the school-room, had followed him to and all the narrowness of mind and littleness fro with an ever restless desire to serve or of purpose worthy, a descernd:nt of the help him, anticipating such little wants as nhuse of Squeers. And there w.ats one his humble ability could supply, and cone6ifobrt to >; and that wvas, that every hour tent only to be near him. Hle would sit be 80 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. ide him for hours looking patiently into The boy shook his head, and closing the his face, and a word would brighten up book with a sigh, looked vacantly round, his care-worn visage, and call into it a pass- and laid his head upon his arm. lie wai ing gleam even of happiness. lie was an weeping. altered being; he had an olject now, and "Do not, for God's sake," said Nicholas. that object was to show his attachment to in ann agitated voice; " I cannot bear to the only person- that person a stranger — see you." who had treated him, not to say with kind- "They are more hard with me than ness, but like a human creature. ever," sobbed the boy. Upon this poor being all the spleen and " I know it," rejoined Nicholas. " They ill-humour that could not be vented on are." Nichoh/2s were unceasingly bestowed.- "But for you," said the outcast, "I Drudgery would have been nothing-he should die. They would kill me; they was well used to that. Buffetings inflicted would, I know they would." without cause would have been equally a " You will do better, poor fellow," re matter of course, for to them also he had plied Nicholas, shaking his head mournserved a long and weary apprenticeship; fully, " when I am gone." but it was no sooner observed that he had " Gone 1" cried the other, looking intentbeaome attached to Nicholas, than stripes ly in his face. and blows, stripes and blows, morning, " Softly 1" rejoined Nicholas. " Yes." noon, and night, were his only portion. "Are you going?" demanded the boy, Squeers was jealous of the influence which in an earnest whisper. his man had so soon acquired, and his "I cannot say," replied Nicholas; "I family hated him, and Smike paid for was speaking more to my own thoughts both. Nicholas saw it, and ground his than to you." teeth at every repetition of the savage and " Tell me," said the boy imploringly. cowardly attack. " Oh do tell me, will you go —will you? Hie had arranged a few regular lessons " I shall be driven to that at last!" said for the boys, and one night as he paced up Nicholas. " The world is before me, after and down the dismal school-room, his swoln all." heart almost bursting to think that his pro- " Tell me," urged Smike, "is the world tection and countenance should have in- as bad and dismal as this place?" creased the misery of the wretched being " Eeaven forbid," replied Nicholas, purwhose peculiar destitution had awakened suing the train of his own thoughts, "its his pity, he paused mechanically in a dark hardest, coarsest toil, were happiness to corner where sat the object of his thoughts. this." The poor soul was poring hard over a " Should I ever meet you there?" detattered book, with the traces of recent manded the boy, speaking with unusual tears still upon his face, vainly endeavour- wildness and volubility. ing to master some task which a child of "Yes," replied Nicholas, willing to nine years old, possessed of ordinary pow- soothe him. ers, could have conquered with ease, but " No, n6!" said the other, clasping him which to the addled brain of the crushed by the hand. "Should I-should I-tell boy of nineteen was a sealed and hopeless me that again. Say I should be sure to mystery. Yet there he sat, patiently con- find you." ning the page again and again, stimulated "You would," replied Nicholas with tho by no boyish ambition, for he was the same humane intention, "and I would common jest and scoff even of the uncouth help and aid you, and not bring freeh objects that congregated about him, but sorrow on you as I have done here." inspired by the one eager desire to please The boy caught both the young man's his solitary friend. hands passionately in his, and liuggingf Nicholas laid his hand upon his shoulder. them to his breast, uttered a few broken "I can't do it," said the dejected crea- sounds which were unintelligible. Sqlee'rs ture, looking up with bitter disappoint- entered at the moment, and he shrunk ailnt in every feature. " No, no." back into his old corner. "Do not try," replied Nicholas. NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 81 CHAPTER XII. IUTlHO1,AS VARIES TllE MONOTONY OF DOTHEBOYS IHALL BY A MOST VIGOROUS ANID REMARKABLE PROCEEDING, WHICH LEADS TO CONSEQUENCES OF SOME IMPORTANCE. THE cold feeble dawn of a January morn- "Now then," cried that gentlemen, "are ing was stealing in at the windows of the you going to sleep all day up there —" common sleeping-room, when Nicholas, "You lazy hounds 1" added MIs. Squeers raising himself upon his arm, looked finishing the sentence, and producilng at among the prostrate forms which on the same time a sharp sound like tlha every side surrounded him, as though in which is occasioned by the lacingr of sta.ys. search of some particular object. "We shall be down directly, Sir," reIt needed a quick eye to detect from plied Nicholas. among the huddled mass of sleepers, the " Down directly!" said Squeers. "Ah I form of any given individual. As they you had better be down directly, or I'll be lay closely packed together, covered, for down upon some of you in less. Where's warmth's sake, with their patched and rag- that Smike?" ged clothes, little could be distinguished Nicholas looked hurriedly round again, but the sharp outlines of pale faces, over but made no answer. which the sombre light shed the same dull "Smike I" shouted Squeers. heavy colour, with here and there a gaunt "Do you want your head broke in a arm thrust forth: its thinness hidden by fresh place, Smike!" demanded his amiable) no covering, but fully exposed to view in lady in the same key. all its shrunken ugliness. There were Still there was no reply, and still Niche. some who, lying on their backs with up- las stared about him, as did the grestser turned faces and clenched hands, just visi- part of the boys who were by this tirme ble in the leaden light, bore more the as- roused. pect of dead bodies than of living creatures, "Confound his impudence," mutltered and there were others coiled up into Squeers, rapping the stair-rail impatient. strange and fantastic postures, such as ly with his cane. " Nickleby." might ha'e been taken for the uneasy " Well, Sir." efforts of pain to gain some temporary re- " Send that obstinate scoundrel d(es'n; lief, rather than the freaks of slumber. A don't you hear me calling?" few-and these were among the youngest " IIe is not here, Sir," replied Nicha.n. of the children-slept peacefully on with "Don't tell me a lie," retorted the smiles upon their faces, dreaming perhaps schoolmaster. " Ile is." of home; but ever and again a deep and " IIe is not." retorted Nicholas angrily, heavy sigh, breaking the stillness of the " don't tell me one." room, announced that some new sleeper "We shall soon see that," said Mir. had awakened to the misery of another Squeers, rushing up stairs. "I'll find day, and, as morning took the place of him I warrant you." night, the smiles gradually faded away With which assurance, Mr. Squeers with the friendly darkness which had bounced into the dormitory, and swinging given them birth. his cane in the air ready for a blow, darted Dreams are the bright creatures of poem into the corner where the lean body of the and legend, who sport on earth in the drudge was usually stretched at night. night season, and melt away in the first The cane descended harmlessly upon the beam of the sun, which lights grim care ground. There was nobody there. and stern reality on their daily pilgrimage " What does this mean?" said Squeers, through the world. turning round with a very pale face. Nicholas looked upon the sleepers, at " Where have you hid him?" first with the air of one who gazes upon a "I have seen nothing of him since last scene which, though familiar to him, has night," replied Nicholas. lost. none of its sorrowful effect in conse- "Come," said Squeers, evidently frightquence, and afterwards, with a more in- ened, though he endeavoured to look othertense and searching scrutiny, as a man wise, "you won't save him this way. would who missed something his eye was Where is he?" accustomed to meet, and had expected to " At the bottom of the nearest pond for rest upon. IIe was still occupied in' the aught 1 know," rejoined Nicholas in alow search, and had half risen from his bed in voice, and fixing his eyes full on the mas. the eagerness of his quest, when the voice ter's face. )f Squeers was heard calling fiom the "D-n you, what do you mean by that?" bottom of the stairs retorted Squeers in great perturbation, 8s NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. Andwithciatwaitilngforareply,beinquired but now losing all. patience, she niastily of the boys whether any o(ne anlong them assumed her night-jacket and made her knewanything of their missing schoolmate. way to the scene of action. There was a general hum of anxious de- "What's all this here to do?" said the nial, in the midst of which one s'hrill voice lady, as the boys fell off right and left to was heard to say (as, indeed, everybody save her the trouble of clearing a passage thouo-ght)- with her brawny arms. "What on earth " Please, Sir, I think Smike's run away, are you a talking to him for, Squeery?" WE " "Why my dear," said Squeers, " the " Ia!" cried Squeers, turning sharp fact is, that Smike is not to be found." round; "'Who said that?" "Well, I know that," said the lady, "and "Tomkins, please Sir,'" rejoined a chorus where's the wonder? If you get a parcel of voices. Mr. Squeers made a plunge into of proud-stomached teachers that set the the crowd, and at one dive caught a very young dogs a rebelling, what else can you littleboy, habited still in his nightgear, and look for? Now, young man, you just llave the perplexed expression of whose counte- the kindness to take yourself off to the nance as he was brought forward, seemed school-room, and take the boys off with to intimate that he was as yet uncertain you. and don't you stir out of there'till whether he was about to be punished or you have leave given you, or you and I rewarded for the suggestion. lie was not may fall out in a way that'll spoil your long in doubt. beauty, handsome as you think yourself "You think he has run away, do you, and so I tell you.'L Sir?" demanded Squeers. " Indeed!" said Nicholas, smiling. " Yes, please Sir," replied the little boy. "Yes; and indeed and indeed again, "And what, Sir," said Squeers, catching Mister Jackanapes," said the excited lady; the little boy suddenly by the arms and "and I wouldn't keep such as you in the whisking up his drapery in a most dexter- house another hour if had my way." ous manner, "what reason have you to sup- " Nor would you, if I had mine," repose that any boy would wantto run away plied Nicholas. " Now, boys." fiom this establishment. Eh, Sir?" " Ah! Now boys," said Mrs. Squeers, The child raised a dismal cry by way of mimicking, as nearly as she could, the answer, and Mr. Squeers, throwing him- voice and manner of the usher. " Follow self into the most favorable attitude for your leader, boys, and take pattern by exercising his strength, beat him till the Smike if you dare. See what he'll get little urchin in his writhings actually rolled for himself when he is brought back, and out of his hands, when he mercifully al- mind I tell you that you shall have as bad, lowed him to roll away as he best could. and twice as bad, if you so much as open " There," said Squeers. " Now if any your mouths about him." other boy thinks Smike has run away, I "If I catch him," said Squeers, I'll shall be glad to have a talk with him." on-ly stop short of flaying him alive, I give There was of course a profound silence, you notice, boys." during, which, Nicholas showed his dis- "If you catch him," retorted Mrs. gust as plainly as looks could show it. Squeers contemptuously, " you are sure "Well, Nickleby," said Squeers, eye- to, you can't help it, if you go the right ingl him maliciously. " You think he has way to work. Come, away with you!" run awa:y, I suppose?" With these words, Mrs. Squeers dismiss-'I think it extremely likely," replied ed the boys, and after a little light skirNicholas, in a very quiet manner. mishing with those in the rear who were " Oh, you do, do you?" sneered Squeers. pressing forward to get out of the way, but " iMaybe you know he has?" were detained for a few moments by the "I know nothing of the kind." throng in front, succeeded in clearing the " lie didn't tell you he was going, I room,whensheconfrontedherspouse.tlone. suppose, did he?" sneered Squeers. " IIe is off," said Mrs. Squeers. " The Hlie did riot," replied Nicholas; "I am cow-house and stable are locked up, so he very glad he did not, for it would then have can't be there; and he's not down stairs been iiiy duty to have warned you in time." anywhere, for the girl has looked. HIe " Whithi no doubt you would have been must have gone York way, and by a pubdevilish sorry to do," said Squeers in a lie road too." taunting fashion.' "Why must he?" inquired Squeers. "I should, indeed," replied Nicholas. " Stupid!" said Mrs. Squeers angrily. " You interpret my feelings with great IIe hadn't any money, had he?" accuraoy." "' Never had a penny of his own in his Mrs. Squeers had listened to this con- whole life,that I know of," replied Squeers. versati)n fi)m the bottom of the stairs, " To be sure," rejoined Mrs. S lueers, NICIIOLAS NICKLEBY. 83 " and he didn't take anything to eat with "Isn't it?" said Squeers in a throatenhim, that I'll answer for. Iea i ha! ha!" Ing manner. " We shall see!"' hIa i ha i ha 1" cried Squeers. "We shall," rejoined Nicholas. " Then of course," said Mrs. S., "he "Here's the pony run right off his legs, must beg his way, and he could do that and me obliged to come home with a hack nowhere but on the public road." cob, that'll cost fifteen shillings besides "That's true," exclaimed Squeers, clap- other expenses," said Squsers; "who's to pingr his hands. pay for that, do you hear?"'True! Yes; but you would never have Nicholas shrugged his shoulders and thought of it for all that, if I hadn't said remained silent. so," replied his wife.' Now, if you take "I'll have it out of somebody I teal you," the chaise and go one road, and I borrow said Squeers, his usual harsh crafty mnanSwallow's chaise, and go the other, what ner changed to ofen bullying. "None of with keeping our eyes open and asking your whining vapourings here Mr. Pol-uppy, questions, one or the other of us is pretty but be off to your kennel, for it's past your certain to lay hold of him." bed-time. Come. Get out." The worthy lady's plan was adopted and Nicholas bit his lip and knit his hands put in execution without a moment's delay. involuntarily, for his finger-ends tingled to After a very hasty breakfast, and the pro- avenge the insult, but remembering that secution of some inquiries in the village, the man was drunk, and that it could come the result of which seemed to show that to little but a noisy brawl, he contented he wa.s on the right track, Squeeis started himself with darting a contemptuous look forth in th!e pony-chaise, intent upon dis- at the tyrant, and walked as majestically covery and vengeance. Shortly afterwards as he could up stairs, not a little nettled Mrs. Squeers, arrayed in the white top however to observe that Miss Squeers and ooat, and tied up in various shawls and Master Squeers, and the servant girl, were handkerchiefs, issued forth in another enjoying the scene from a snug corner; the chaise and another direction, taking with'two former indulging in many edifying re. her a good-sized bludgeon, several odd marks about the presumption of poor uppieces of strong cord, and a stout labouring starts; which occasioned a vast deal of man: all provided and carried upon the laughter, in which even the most miserable expedition with the sole object of assisting of all miserable servant girls joined, while in the captre, and (once caughft) ensuring Nicholas, stung to the quick, drew over hio the safe custody of the unfortunate Smike. head such bedclothes as he had, and sternNicholas remained behind in a tumult of ly resolved that the out-standing account feeling, sensible that whatever might be between himself and Mr. Squeers should the upshot of the boy's flight, nothing but be settled rather more speedily than the painful and deplorable consequences were. latter anticipated. likely to ensue from it. Death from want Another day came, and Nicholas war, and exposure to the weather was the best scarcely awake when he heard the wheelh that could be expected from the protracted of a claise approaching the house. It stopwadering of so poor and helpless a crea- ped. The voice of Mrs. Squeers was heard, ture, alone and unfriended, through a coun- and in exultation, ordering a glass of spirits try of which he was wholly ignorant. for somebody, which was in itself a sutThere was little, perhaps, to choose be- ficient sign that something extraordinary tween this fate and a return to the tender had happened. Nicholas hardly dared t, mercies of the Yorkshire set ool, but the look out of the window, but he did. so, anid unhappy being had established a hold upon the very first obiect that met his eyes was his sympathy and compassion,which made the wretched Smi;ke; so bedabbled with his heart ache at the prospect of the suf- mnud and rain, so haggard and worn, and fering he was designed to undergo. IIe wild, that, but for his garments being such linhered on in restless anxiety, picturing a as no scare-crow was ever seen to wear, he thousand possibilities, until the evening of might have been doubtful, even then, of next day, when Squeers returned alone his identity. and Unsuccessful. 1 " Lift him out," said Squeers, after he "No news of the scamp," said the school- had literally feasted his eyes in silence master, who had evidently been stretching upon the culprit. "Bring him in; bring his legs, on the old principle, not a few him in." times during the journey. "I'll have con- " Take care," cried Mrs.' Squeers, as hei solation for this out of somebody, Nickleby, husband proffered his assistance.'We if Mrs. Squeers don't hunt him down, so I tied his legs under the apron and made give you warning."'em fast to the chaise, to prevent his giv"' It is not in my power to console you, ipg us the slip again." Sir," said Nicholas. "It is nothing to me." With hands trembling with delight, 84 N I C H LAS NIC T B Y. Squeers unloosened the cord, and Smike, est thle place where his collar would have to all appearance more dead than alive, been, had he boasted such a decoration. was brought into the house and securely In any other place the appearance of the locked lip in a cellar, until such time as wretched, jaded, spiritless object would Mr. Sqlteers should deem it expedient to have occasioned a murmur of compassion operate upon him in presence of the as- and remonstrance. It had some effect even sermbled school. there; for the lookers on moved une tsily in Upon a hasty considerati.n of the cir- their seats, and a few of the boldest vencumstances, it may be matter of surprise tured to steal looks.at each other, expres too some persons, that Mr. and Mrs. Squeers sive of indignation and pity should have taken so much trouble to re- They were lost on Squeers, however, possess themselves of an incumberanee of whose gaze was fastened on the luckless which it was their wont to complain so Smike as he inquired, according to custora loudly; but their surprise will cease when in such cases, whether he had anything to they are informed that the manifold ser- say for himself. vices of the drudge, if performed by any- " Nothing, I suppose?" said Squeers, body else, would have cost the establish- with a diabolical grin. ment some ten or twelve shillings per week Smike glanced round, and his eye rested in the shape of wages; and furthermore, for an instant on Nicholas, as if he had that all runaways were, as a matter of expected him to intercede; but his look policy, made severe examples of at Dothe- was riveted on his desk. boys Iall, inasmuch as in consequence of " I-ave you anything to'say?" demandthe limited extent of its attractions there ed Squeers again: giving his right arm two was but little inducement, beyond the pow- or three flourishes to try its power and erful impulse of fear, for any pupil pro- suppleness. "Stand a little out of the way, vided with the usual number of legs and Mrs. Squeers, my dear; I've hardly got the power of using them, to remain. room enough." The news that Smike had been caught " Spare me, Sir," cried Smike. and brought back in triumph, ran like wild- " Oh! that's all, is it?" said Squeers fire through the hungry community, and " Yes, I'll flog you within an inch of your expectation was on tiptoe all the morning. life, and spare you that." On tiptoe it was destined to remain, how- " Ha, ha, ha," laughed Mrs. Squcers, ever, unti afternoon; when Squeers, hayv- " that's a good'un." ing refreshed himself with his dinner, and "I was driven to do it," said Smike faintfurther strengthened himself by an extra ly; and casting another imploring look libation or so, made his appearance (ac- about him. companied by his amiable partner) with a "Driven to do it, were you," said Squeers, countenance of portentous import, and a " Oh I it wasn't your fault; it was mine, I fearful instrument of flagellation, strong, suppose-eh?" supple; wax-ended, and new-in short, pur- "A nasty, ungrateful, pig-headed, brutchased that morning expressly for the oc- ish, obstinate, sneaking dog," exclaimed casion. Mrs. Squeers, taking Smike's head under " Is every boy here?" asked Squeers, in her arm, and administering a cuff at every a tremendous voice. epithet; " what does he mean by that?" Every boy was there, but every boy was "Stand aside, my dear," replied Squeers, afraid to speak; so Squeers glared along " We'll try and find out." the lines to assure himself, and every eye Mrs. Squeers being out of breath with dropped and every head cowered down as her exertions, complied. Squeers caught he did so. the boy firmly in his grip; one desperate "Each boy keep his place,"said Squeers, cut haa fallen on his body-he was wincing administeringhis favourite blow tothe desk from the lash and uttering a scream of pain and regarding with gloomy satisfaction the — it was raised again, and again about to universal start which it never failed to oc- fall —when Nicholas Nickleby suddenly Lasion. " Nickleby, to your desk, Sir." starting up, cried " Stop i" in a voice that It was remarked by more than one small made the rafters ring. observer, that there was a very curious and " Who cried stop?" said Squeers, turn. unusual expression in the usher's face, but ing savagely round. Ibe took his seat without opening his lips in "I," said Nicholas, stepping forward. reply; and Squeers casting a triumphant: This must not go on." glance at his assistant and a look of most "Must not go on 1" cried Squeers, alcomprehensive despotism on the boys, left most in a shriek. the room, and shortly afterwards returned "No!" thundered Nicholas. dragging Smike by the collar-or rather by Aghast and stupified by the boldness of that fragmuent of his jacket which was near- the interference, Squeera released his hold NICIIOLTAS NICKLEBY. b5 ef Smike, and falling hbac a pace or two collection of his having refused her I roffergazed upon Nicholas with looks that were ed love, and thus imparting additional positively frightful. stren(th +o an arm which (as she took af" I say must not," repeated Nicholas, ter her mother in this respect) was at no nothIng daunted; shall not. I will pre- time one of the weakest. vent it." Nicholas. in the full torrent of his vioSqueers continued to gaze upon him, lence, felt the blows no more than if they with his eyes starting out of his head; but had been dealt with feathers; but becomastonishment had actually for the-moment ing tired of the noise and uproar, and feelbhref't him of speech. ing that his arm grew weak besides, he "You have disregarded all my quiet in- threw all his remaining strength into halftairerence in the miserable lad's behalf," a-dozen finishing cuts, and flung Squeers said Nicholas: "returned no answer t6 from him with all the force he could musthe letter in which I begged forgiveness ter. The violence of his fall precipitated for him, and offered to be responsible that Mrs. Squeers completely over an adjacent lie would remain quietly here. Don't form,and Squeers,strikinghis head against blame ine for this public interference. You it in his descent, lay at his full length on have brought it upon yourself; not IL" the ground, stunned and motionless. "Sit down, beggar!" screamed Squeers, IIaving brought affairs to this happy almost beside himself with rage, and seiz- termination, and ascertained to his thoring Smike as he spoke. ough satisfaction that Squeers was only "Wretch," rejoined Nicholas, fiercely, stunned, and not dead (upon which point " touch him at your peril! I will not stand he had some unpleasant doubts at first), by and see it done; my blood is up, and I Nicholas left his family to restore him and have the strength of ten such men as you. retired to consider what course he had Look to yourself, for by Heaven I will not better adopt. He looked anxiously round spare you if you drive me on." for Smike as he left the room, but he was " Stand back," cried Squeers, brandish- nowhere to be seen. ing his weapon. After a brief consideration he packed up "I have a long series of insults to a few clothes in a small leathern valise, and avenge," said Nicholas, flushed with pas- finding that nobody offered to oppose his sion; " And my indignation is aggravated progress, marched boldly out by the fronti;y the Dastardly cruelties practised on door, and shortly afterwards struck into hellpless infancy in this foul den. Have a the road which led to Greta Bridge. care; for if you do raise the devil within When he had cooled sufficiently to be me, the consequences shall fall heavily enabled to give his present circumstances upon your own head." some little reflection, they did not appear He had scarcely spoken when Squeers, in a very encouraging light, for he had only in a violent outbreak of wrath and with a four shillings and a few pence in his pocket, cry like the howl of a wild beast, spat up- and was something more than two hundred,)n hlim, and struck him a blow across the and fifty miles from London, whither he reFace with his instrument of torture, which solved to direct his steps, that he might.asraised up a bar of livid flesh as it was in- certain, among other things, what account flicted. Smarting with the agony of the of the morning's proceedings Mr. Squeers blow, and concentrating into that one mo- transmitted to his most affectionate uncle. ment all his feelings of rage, scorn, and Lifting up his eyes, as he arrived at the indignation, Nicholas sprang upon him, conclusion that there was no remedy for wrested the weapon from his hand, and, this unfortunate state of things, he beheld pinning him by the throat, beat the ruffian a horseman coming towards him, whom, fill he roared for mercy. on his. nearer approach, he discovered, to The boys —-with the exception of Master his infinite chrgrin, to be no other than &Sueers, who, coming to his father's assist- Mr. John Browdie, who, clad in cords and ance, harass.d the enemy in the rear- leather leggings, was urging his animal mo(vcd not hand or foot; but Mrs. Squeers, forward by means of a thick ash etick, with many shrieks for aid, hung on to the which seemed to have been recentl f Jut tail of her partner's coat and endeavoured from some stout sapling. to drag him from his infurifted adversary; "I am in no mood for more noise and while Miss Squeers, who had been peeping riot," thought Nicholas, " and yet, do through the keyhole in expectation ofavery what I will, I shall have an altercation different scene, darted in at the very begin- witt this honest blockhead, and perhaps ning of the attack, and after launching a a blow or two from yonder staff." shower of inkstands at the usher's head, In truth there appeared some reason to beat Nicholas to her healt's content, ani- expect that such a result would follow from mating herself at every blow with the "e- the encounter, for John Browdie no sooner 86 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. saw Nicholas advancing, than he reined in " No, I do not," said Nicholas; but it his horse by the footpath, and viaited un- is of no great consequence to me, for I in til such time as he should come up; look- tend walking." ing meanwhile very sternly between the "Gang awae' to Lunnun afoot!" cried h:arse's eais at Nicholas, as he came on at John, in amazement. his leisure. "Every step of the way," replied NiAh "Servant, young gentleman," said John. olas. " I slould be many steps further "Yours," said Nicholas. on by this time, and so good bye." "Weel; we ha' met at last," observed " Nay., noo," replied the honest cotnJohn, making the stirrup ring under a try man, reining in his imppatient horse. smart touch of the ash stick. " stan still, tellee. IHow much cash hast "' Yes," replied Nicholas, hesitating. — thee gotten?" "Come," he said, frankly, after a moment's " Not much," said Nicholas, colouring, pause, "we parted on no very good terms "but I can make it enough. Where the last timle we met; it was my fault, I there's a will, there's a way,'you know." believe; but I had no intention of offend- John Biowdie made no verbal answer ing you, and no idea that I was doing so. to this remark, but putting his ht:d,- irn I was very sorry for it afterwards. Will his pocket, pulled out an old purlse o: you shake hands?" soiled leather, and insisted that Nicholas " Shakle honds l" cried the good-humour- should borrow from him whatever he reed Yorkshiremann; ah! that I weel;" at quired for his present necessities. the samne time he bent down from the sad- " Dean't be afeard, mun," he said; dle, anrd gavP Nicholas's fist a huge "tak' eneaf tocarry thee whoam. Thee'li wrench; "but wa'at be the matther wi' pay me yan day, a' warrant." thy fece, mun? it be all brokken loike." Nicholas could by no means be prev:liled'Itisancut," said Nicholas, turning scar- upon to borrow more than a sovereign, let as he spoke,-" a blow; but I returned it with which loan Mr. Browdie, after many to the giver, and with good interest too." entreaties that he would accept of more " Noa, did'ee though?" exclaimed John (observing, with a touch of Yorkshire cauBrowdie. " Weel deane, I loike'un for tion, that if he didn't spend it all he could thot." put the surplus by, till he had an oppor" The fact is," said Nicholas, not very tunity of remitting it carriage free), was well knowing how to make the avowal, fain to content himself. "the fact is, that I have been ill-treated." "Tak' that bit o' timber to help thee on "Noa!" interposed John Browdie, in a wi', mun," he added, pressing his stick tone of compassion; for he was a giant in on Nicholas, and giving his hand another strength and stature, and Nicholas very squeeze;" keep a good heart, and bless likely in his eyes seemed a mere dwarf; thee. Beatten a schoolmeasther!'Cod "dean't say thot." it's the best thing a've heerd this twonty " Yes, I have," replied Nicholas, "by year!" that man'Squeers, and I have beaten him So saying, and indulging, with more soundly, and am leaving this place in c'on- delicacy, than could have been expected sequence.". from him, in another series of loud laughs. What!" cried John Browdie, with for the purnose of avoiding the thanks; such an ecstatic shout, that the horse quite which Nicholas poured forth, John Bra'wshyed at it. " Beatten the schoolmeas- die set spurs to his horse, and went off at ther! Ho! ho! ho I Beatten the school- a smart canter, looking back from time to newasther! who ever heard o' the loike o' time as Nicholas stood gazing after him; that nooo! Giv' us thee hond agean, and wavincg his hand cheerily, as if to enyoongster. Beatten a schoolmeasther! courage him on his way. Nicholas watched Dang it, I loove thee for't." the horse tand rider until they disappeared With these expressions of delight, John over the brow of a distant hill, and then Browdie laughed and laughed again —so set forward on his journey. loud that the echoes far and wie sent He did not travel far that afternoon, tfr back nothing but jovial peals of merri- by this time it was nearly dark, and thre ment-and shook Nicholas by the hand had been a heavy fall of snow, which not meanwhile no less heartily. When his only rendered the way toilsome, but ths mirth had subsided, he inquired what Nich- track uncertain and difficult to fin4 after olas meant to do: on his informing him, to daylight, save by experienced wayfarers. go straight to London, he shook his head He lay that night at a cottage, where beds doubtfully, and inquired if he knew how were let at a cheap rate to the more hummuch the coaches charged to carry V.assen- ble class of travellers, and rising betimes gers so fir. nez t morning, made his way before night NI;CHOLAS NICKLERBY. 87 to Boroughbridge. Passingthrough that said Nicholas, kindly. " I-ow came you town in search of some cheap resting-place, here?" he stumbled upon an empty barn within a Ile had followed him, it seemed; had oauple of hundred yards of the road $.de; never lost sight of him all the way; had. in a warni corner of which he-stretdbed watched while he slept, and when he halthis weary limbs, and soon fell asleep. ed for. refreshment; and had feared to apWhen he awoke next morning, and tried pear before, lest he should be sent back. to recollect his dreams, which had been all Hle had not intended to appear now, but connected with his recent sojourn at Dothe- Nicholas'had awakened more suddenly boys Iall, he sat up, rubbed his eyes, and than he looked for, and he had no time to stared-not with the most composed.coun- conceal himself. tenance possible-at some motionless ob- " Poor fellow!" said Nicholas, "your ject which seemed to be stationed within'hard fate denies you any friend but one, a few yards in front of him. and he is nearly as poor and helpless as " Strange!" cried Nicholas; " Can this yourself." be some lingering creation of the vigions "'May T-iania y I go with you?" asked that have scarcely left me! Itoannot be Smike, timidly. " I will be your faithful real-and yet I —I am awake Smike!,' hard-working servant, I will, indeed. I The form moved, -rose, advanced, and want nro elothes," added the poor creature, dropped upon its knees at his feet. It was drawing his ragas together; "'these will do Smike indeed. very well. I only'want to be neart you."' " Why do you kneel to me?" said Nich- "And you shall," criedNidholas. "And alas, hastily raising him. the world shall deal by you as it does' by " To go with you-any~where-every- me, till one or both of us shallquit it for where-to the world's end-to the church- a better. Come." yard grave," replied Smike, clinging to his With these words he strapped his burhand. " Let me, oh do let me. You are don on his shoulders,'and taking his stick my home-my kind friend-take me with in ohi' hand, extended the other to his deToU, pray." lighted charge, and so they passed out of "I am a friend who can do little for:you," the old barn-together. CHAPTER XIV. HAVING THE MISFORTUNE TO TREAT. O NONE BTT COM!MON PEOPLE, IS NECESSARILY OF A MEAN AND VULG'AR CHARACOTER. IN that quarter of London in'which Gol- in the mud, and can scarcely raise a crow den Square is situated, there is a by-gone, among them. The only one with anything faded, tumble-down street, with two ir- approaching to a voice is n aaged bantam regular rows of tall meagre houses, which: at the baker's, and even he is hoarse in seem to have -stared each other- out of consequenceof bad living in his last place. onuntenanceyears ago. The verychimneys To judge from the size of the houses, appear to have grown dismal and melan- they have been at one time tenanted by choly, from having had nothing better to persons of better condition. than their pre look, at than the chimneys over the Way. sent occupants, but they are now let oft Their tops are battered, and brOken, and by the week in floors or rcwms, andi every blackenedwith smoke; and here and:there' door'has almost as many plates or bellsome taller stack'than the rest, inclining andles /s there are apartme;ts.;w ithin.. heavily to one side, and toppling over the The windows are for the same reason bsu roof, seems to mMeditate taking revenge fori ficiently diversified in appearanoe, being. half a century's neglect, by crushing thei ornamented with eve'ry variety of;ommona inhabitants of the garrets beneath.: blind and curtain tliat can easily be iM.. The fowls who peek about the'kenelbs;,l ag.ined, while every doorway-is blocked up, jerking their bodieshither and i'thher with and rendered nearly impassablei by a mota gait which none butt totwnroWls r.e ever ley collection of ciildren and porter p)'t seen to adopt, and which any biuntry cock of all sia es, from the bab-y in arms and or hen would be'-puzzled to understand,:are: the half-pint pot, to the fuil-grownn, gitr and, perfectly in keeping with the crazyhabita- half-gallon can.. tionas of their owners.: Dingy, illplumed, In the' parlor of one of thse, houses,. drowsy flutterers, sent, like, many of Athe which was perhaps a thougl: dirtier thanr aeighbiouring chiltdren, to get" a livelihood any of its neighbours. wbhich. e.hibite4 in. the~ stre-et~s, they hup firom stoner itstoioie' inore bel'l-handles ct't hdeo, hilen, and, pr, teee in forlo~n search of'soinl hiddcn "eatbLLe not,'ind caulght in al-l it t f.esh~ tha.6. .8$ NiNCHOLAS NICKLEBY. first gust of the thick black smoke that "W ell;and that makes it the more poured forth night and day from a large vexatious," observed Mr. Growl, i.n the brewery hard by, hung a bill announcing same pettish tone. that there was yet one room to let within Uttering low querulous growl, the its walls, although on what Story the va- speaker, whose harsh countenance was the cant room could, be-regard being had to very epitome of selfishwess, raked the scanty the out ward tokrens of many lodgers which fire nearly out of the'grate, and, -empl irg Ithe whole fiont'displayed, from the mangle the glass which Newman had pushe I tojn the kitchen-windowf to the flower-pots wards him, inquired where he kept his coal..:p the parapet-it would have been beyond.Newman Noggs pointed to the bottomi of the power of a calculating boy to discover. a cupboard, and Mr. Crowl, seizing the' The common stairs of this mansion were shovel,- threw on half the stock, which bare and carpetless; but a curious visitor Noggs very deliberately took off again who had to climb his way to the top, might without saying a' word. have observed that there were not wanting "You have not turned saving this time indications of the progressive poverty of of day, I hope?' said Growl. the inmates, although their rooms were Newman "pointed to the empty glass, as shut.- Thus the first-floor lodgers, being thoughit werea sufficient refultation of the flush of furniture,, kept an old mahogany charge, and briefly said that he was going table-real mahogany-on the landing- down" stairs to supper. place outside, which wnas only taken in " To the Kenwigses?" asked Growl. when occasion required. On the second:Newman nodded assent. story the spare furniture dwindled down Think of that now'I" said Growl. "If to a couple - of old deal chairs, of which I didn't-thinking that you were certain one, belonging to the back-room, was shorn not to go, because you said you wouldn'tof a leg and bottomless. The story above tell Kenwigs I couldn't come, and make up boasted no greater excess than. a w.orm- my mind to spend the evening with you.' eaten wash-tub; and the garret iieding- I was obliged to go," said Newman, place displayed no costlier articles than "They would have me." two crippled pitchers, and some broken " Well; but what's to become of me?" blacking-bottles. urged the selfish man, who never thought It was on this garret landing-place that of anybody'else. It's all your fault. I'll a hard-featured, square-faced man, elderly tell-you what-I'll sit by your fire till you and shabby, stopped to unlock the dodr of; c6me'back again." the front attic, into which, having sub-'` Newznian cast a despairing glance at his mounted the task of turning the rusty key- small store of fuel, but not having the courin its still more rusty wards, he walked age to say no, a word which in all his life with the air of its legal owner. he could never say at the right time, either -This person wore a wig of short, coarse, to himself or any one else, gave way to the red hair, which he took off with his hat, proposed arrangement, and Mr. Growl imand hung upon a nail. Having adopted in mediately went about making himself as its place a dirty cotton nightcap, and comfortable with Newman Noggrs's means, groped about in the dark till- he found a as circumstances would admit of his being. remnant of a candle, he knocked at the The lodgers to -whom Crowl had made partition whichidivided the two garrets, allusion under the desigltation of" the Kenand inquired in a loud voice whether Mr. wigses," were the wife and olive branches Noggs had gott'light. - of one i Mr. Kenwigs, a turner in ivory, who The-sound's that came back were stifled was looked upon as a person of some conb the lath and plaster, and it seemed sideration on the premises, inasmuch as he moreover as though the speaker had ut- occupied the whole of the first floor, conmtered them from the interior of a mug or prising a suite of two rooms. Mrs. Ken other drinking vessel; but' they, were in wigs, too, was quite a lady in her manners the voice'.of New aanl and con~veyed a're- and of a very genteel family, having an unply in- the affirmative. cle'who collected a water-rate; besi leJ A': nasty night, Mr. Noggs, sBaid the which distinction, the two eldest of her lit. man in the night-cap, stepping in to light tie girls went twice a week to a dancing his candle. school in the neighbourhood, and had flaxen " Does it rain?" asked Newman. hair tied with blue ribands hanging in lux" Does it?" replied the other pettishly. uriant pigtails down their backs, and wore "I a.nl wet through." little white trousers-with frills round the "I doesn't take much to wet you and ankles-for all of which reasons and many me thr ough, Mr. Crowl," said Newman, more equally valid but too numerous to ihying his hand upon the lappel of his mention, Mrs. Kenwigs was considered a threadhare coat. -very desirable person to know, and was the NICHOLAS NICKLEBY 89 -aA stant theme of all the gossips in the I perhaps was the great lior cd the party, eb,,.Wet, and even three or four doors round being the daughter of a theatric:al fireman, the corner at both ends. who "went on" in the pantomime, and had It was the anniversary of that happy day the greatest turn for the stage that was on which the church of England as by law- ever known, being able to sing and recite established, had bestowed Mrs. Kenwigs in a manner that brought the.tears into upon Mr. Kenwigs, and in grateful comme- Mrs. Kenwigs's eyes. There was only one nmoration of the same, Mrs. Kenwigs had drawback upon the pleasure of seeing such invitcd a few select friends to cards and friends, and that was, that the lady in the ouI per in the first floor, and put on a new back parlour,who was very fat, and turned gC wn to receive them in,which gown, being of sixty, came in a low hook-muslin dress af a flaming colour and made upon a juve- and short kid gloves, which so exasperated nile principle, was so successful that Mr. Mrs. Kenwigs, that that lady assured her Keiiwigs said the eight years of matri- sister, in private, that if it hadn't hap mony and the five children seemed all a pened that the supper was cooking at the dream, and Mrs. Kenwigs, younger and back-parlour grate at that moment, she more blooming than the very first Sunday certainly would have requested its reprehe kept company with her. sentative to withdraw. Beautiful as Mrs. Kenwigs looked when "My dear,"said Mr. Kenwigs, "wouldn't she was dressed though, and so stately that it be Fetter to begin a round game?" you would have supposed she had a cook " Kenwigs, my dear," returned his wife, and a housemaid at least, and nothing to do "I am surprised at you. Would you begin [:ut order them about, she had had a world without my uncle?",f trouble with the preparations; more in- " I forgot the collector," said Kenwigs deed than she, being of a delicate and gen-" oh no, that would never do." teel constitution, could have sustained. had " I-e's so particular," said Mrs. Kennot the pride of housewifery upheld her. wigs, turning to the other married lady, At last, however, all the things that had to " that if we began without him, I should be got together were got t6gether, and all be out of his will for ever." the things that had to be got out of the " Dear!" cried the married lady. way were got out of the way, and every- " You've no idea what he is,' replied thing was ready, and the collector himself Mrs. Kenwigs; "and yet as good a crea having promised to come, fortune smiled ture as ever breathed." upon the occasion. "The kindest-hearted man that ever The party was admirably selected. There was," said Kenwigs. were first of all Mr. Kenwigs and Mrs. "It goes to his heart I believe, to be Kenwigs, and four olive Kenwigses who forced to cut the water off when the peo. sat up to supper, firstly, because it was but ple don't pay," observed the bachelor right that they should have a treat on such friend, intending a joke. a day; and secondly, because their going "George," said Mr. Kenwigs, solemnly, to bed in presence of the company, would "none of that if you please." have been inconvenient, not to say impro- "It was only my joke," said the friend, per. Then there was the young lady who abashed. had made Mrs. Kenwigs's dress, and who "George,"rejoined Mr. Kenwigs,"a joke -it was the most convenient thing in the is a wery good thing-a wery good thingworld-living in the two-pair back, gave but when that joke is made at the expense up her bed to the baby, and got a little girl of Mrs. Kenwigs's feelings, I set my face to watch it. Then, to match this young against it. A man in public life expects te lady was a young man, who had known be' sneered at-it is- the fault of his eleMr. Kenwigs when he was a bachelor, and wated sitiwation, not of himself. Mrs. was much esteemed by the ladies, as bear- Kenwigs's relation is a public man, and ing the reputation of a rake. To these that he knows, George, and that he can were added a newly-married couple, who bear; but putting Mrs. Kenwigs out of the had visited Mr. and Mrs. Kenwigs in their question (if I could put Mrs. Kenwigs out courtship, and a sister of Mrs. Kenwigs's, of the question on such an occasion as who was quite a beauty; besides whom, this), I have the honour to be connected there. was another young man supposed to with the collector by marriage; and I canentertain honourabledesigns upon thelady not allow these remarks in my-" Mr. last mentioned, and Mr. Noggs, who was a Kenwigs was going to say " house," but he genteel person to ask, because he had been rounded the sentence with " apartments." a gentleman once. There were also an At the conclusion of these observations, elderly lady from' the back parlour,and one which drew forth evidences of acute feel. more young lady,who,next to the collect-r, ing from Mrs. Kenwigs, and had the in )O NICIIuLAS NICKLEBY. bended effect of impressing the company stairs-Mr. Lillyvick, Mr. Snewkes —Mr witha deep sense of the collector's dignity, Lillyvick. Miss Green-Mr. Lilly cic a ring was heard at the bell. Mr. Lillyvick —Miss Petowker of the TLue "That's him," whispered Mr. Kenwigs, atre Royal Drury Lane. Very glad ta greatly excited. "Morleena, my dear, run make two public characters acquainted down and let your uncle in, and kiss him Mrs. Kenwigs, my dear, will you sort the directly you get the door open. Hem! counters?" Let's be talking." Mrs. IKenwigs, with the assistance of Adopting Mr. Kenwigs's suggestion, the Newman Noggs, (who, as he perf m-reed company spoke very loudly, to look easy sundry little act of'kindness for th chiland unembarrassed; and almost as soon as dren at all times and seasons, was hi mourthey halbegun to do so, a short old gentle- ed in his request to be taken no no, ice of, man, in drabs and gaiters, with a face that andvwas merely spoken about in a V hisper might have been carved out of lignum vitce, as the decayed gentleman,) did as i he w:fs for anything that appeared to the contrary, desired, and the greater part of the guests was led playfully in by Miss Morleena Ken- sat down to speculation, while N iwmri.n wigs,regardingwhose uncommon Christian himself, Mrs. Kenwigs, and Miss P. towker name it may be here remarked that it was of the Theatre Royal Drury Lane, looked invented and composed by Mrs. Ken'wigs after the supper-table. previous to her first lying-in, for the spe- While the ladies were thus busying cial distinction of her eldest child, in case themselves, Mr. Lillyvick was intent upon it should prove a daughter. the gam'e in progress, and as all should be " Oh, uncle, I am so glad to see you," fish that comes to a water-collector's net, said Mrs. Kenwigs, kissing the collector the dear old gentleman was by no meatns affectionately on both cheeks, " So glad," scrupulous in appropaiating to himself the "Many happy returns of the day, my property of his neighbours, which, on the dear," replied the collector, returning the contrary,he abstracted whenever an oppor conpliment. tnity presented itself, smiling good-hu. Now this was an interesting thing. Here mouredly all the while, and making so maiwas a collector of water-rates without his ny condescending speeclies to the owners, book, without his pen and ink, without his that they were delighted with his amiabidouble knock, without his intimidation, lity, and thought in their hearts that he kissing-actually kissing-an agreeable deserved to be Chancellor of the Exfeniale, and leaving taxes, summonses, no- chequer at least. tices that he had called, or announcements After a great deal of trouble, and the adthat he would never call again for two ministration of many slaps on the head to quarters' due, wholly out of the question. the infant Kenwigses, whereof two of the It was pleasant to see how the company most rebellious were summarily banished, looked on, quite absorbed in the sight, and the cloth was laid with great elegance, and to behold the nods and winks with which a pair of boiled fowls, a large piece of pork, they expressed their gratification at find- apple-pie, potatoes and greens, were sering so much humanity in a tax-gatherer. red; at sight of which the worthy Mr. "Where will you sit, uncle?" said Mrs. Lillyvick vented a great many witticisms, JKenwigs, in the full glow of-family pride, and plucked up amazingly, to the immense which the appearance of her distinguished delight and satisfaction of the whole body relation occasioned. of admirers. "Anywheres, my dear," said the col- Very.well and very fast the supper went lector; " I am not particular." off; no more serious: difficulties occurring Not:particular! Vhat a meek collector! than those which arose from the incessant If he had been an author, who knew his demand for clean knives and forks, which place, he couldn't have been more humble. made poor Mrs. Kenwigs wish more than "Mr. Lillyvick," said Kenwigs, address- once that private society adopted the prining the collector, "some friends: here, sir, ciple of schools, and required that every are very anxious for the honour of-thank guest should bring his own knife, fork, and you-Mr. and Mrs. Cutler, Mr. Lillyviek." spoon,which doubtless would:be a great ao"Proud to know you, Sir," said Mr. Cut- conmmodation in many eases, and to no one ler;:"I've heerd of you very often."' These:more so than to the lady and gentlenlan. of were not mere words of ceremony: for Mr. the house, especially if the schodl principle Cutler, having kept house in Mr. Lilly- were cairied out to the full extent, and the vi.ck's parish, had heard of him very often articles were expected,: as a!matter of deli indeed. His attention in calling had been cacy, not to be taken away yagain. 4uite extraordinary.:E'verybody having eaten everything, the "George, you know, I think, Mr. Lilly- table was cleared in a m'ostalarmmn g hurry, ick," said Kenwigs; "lady from down and with great noise; and the spirits, NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 91 whereat the eyes of Newman Noggs glis- "Perhaps you are right, uncle," replied tened, being arranged in order'with water Mrs. Kenwigs, submissively. " I thought both hot and cold, the party composed them- it was' adore.'" selves for conviviality, Mr. Lillyvick being "' Love,' my dear," retorted Mr. Lillystationed in a large arm-chair by the fire- vick. "' Mother,' she sayvs,'I love him.' side, and the four little Kenwigses disposed'What do I hear?' cries her mother; and on a small form in front of the company instantly falls into strong convulsions." with their flaxen tails towards them, and A general exclamation of astonishment their faces to the fire; an arrangement burst from the company. which was no sooner perfected than Mrs. "Into strong convulsions," repeated Mr. Kenwigs was overpowered by the feelings Lillyvick,regarding them with a rigid look. of a mother, and fell upon the left shoulder " Kenwigs will excuse my saying, in the of Mr. Kenwigs dissolved in tears. presence of friends, that there was a very "They are so beautiful," said Mrs. Ken- great objection to him, on the ground that wigs, sobbing. he was beneath the family, and would dis"0, dear," said al the ladies, "''so they grace it. You remember that, Kenwigs I" are; it's very natural you should feel proud "Certainly," replied that gentleman, in of that; but don't give way, don't." no way displeased at the reminiscence, an. " I can —not help it, and it don't signi- asmuch as it proved beyond all doubt what fy," sobbed Mrs. Kenwigs; "oh! they're a high family Mrs. Kenwigs came of. too beautiful to live, much too beautiful." "I shared in that feeling," said Mr. On hearing this alarming presentiment Lillyvick: "perhaps it was natural; per.. of their being doomed to an early death in haps it wasn't." the flower of their infancy, all four little A gentle murmur seemed to say, that girls raiseda hideous cry, and burying their in one of Mr. Lillyvick's station the obieads in their mother's lap simultuneously, jection was not only natural, but highly screamed until the eight flaxen tails vi- praiseworthy. brated again: Mrs. Kenwigs meanwhile "I came round to him in time," said clasping them alternately to herbosom with Mr. Lillyvick. " After they were married, attitudes expressive of distraction, which and there was no help for it, I was one of Miss Petowker herself might have copied. the first to say that Kenwigs must be taken At length the anxious mother permitted notice of. The family did take notice of herself to be soothed into a more tranquil him in consequence, and on my represen. state, and the little Kenwigses being also tation; and I am bound to say-and proud eomposed,were distributed among the com- to say-that I have always found him a pany, to prevent the possibility of Mrs. very honest,well-behaved, upright, respectKenrwigs being again overcome by the able sort of man. Kenwigs, shake hands." blaze of their combined beauty. Which "I am proud to do it, Sir," said Mr. done, the ladies and gentlemen united in Kenwigs. prophesying that they would live for many, "So am I, Kenwigs," rejoined Mr. many years, -and that there was no occasion Lillyvick.,at all for Mrs. Kenwigs to distress herself-: " A very happy life I have led with which in good truth there did not appear your niece, Sir," said Kenwigs. to be, the loveliness of the children'by "It would have been your own fault if no means justifying her apprehensions. you had not, Sir," remarked Mr. Lillyvick. -"' This day eight year," said Mr. Ken- "Morleena Kenwigs," cried her mother, wigs, after a pause. " Dear me-ah 1" at this crisis, much affected, " kiss your This reflection was echoed by all pre- dear uncle." sent, who said "Ah!" first, and " dear The young lady did as she was request. me" afterwards. ed, and the three other little girls were "I was younger then," tittered Mrs. successively hoisted up to the collectcres Kenwigs. countenance, and subjected to tLh same " No," said the collector. process, which was afterwards repeated "Certainly not," added everybody. by the majority of those present. "I remember my niece, said Mr. Lilly- "Oh dear, Mrs. Kenwigs," said Miss vick, surveying his audience with a grave Petowker, " while Mr. Noggs is making air; "I remember her, oil that very after- that punch to drink happy returns in, do noon when she first acknowledged to her let Morleena go through that figure dance mothw apartiality for Kenwigs.'Mother,' before Mr. Lillyvick." she says,'I love him.'" " No, no, my dear, " replied Mrs. Ken. "'Adore him,' I said, uncle," inter- wigs, "it will' only worry my uncle." posed Mrs. Kenwigs.' "It can't worry him, I am sure," said "'Love him,' I think, my dear," said Miss Petowker. "You will be very much th3 collector, firm'y. pleased, won't'u, Sir?" 92: NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. "That I am sure I shall," replied the serious consideration: this being resolved collector, glancing at the punch mixer. upon, Miss Petowker was entreated to be" Well then, I'll tell you what," said Igin the Blood-Drinker's Burial, to which Mrs. Kenwigs, " Morleena shall do the end, that young lady let down her back steps, if uncle can persuade Miss Petow- hair, and taking up her position at the ker to recite us the Blood-Drinker's Burial other end of the room, with the bachelor xfterwards." friend posted in a corner, to rush out at There was a great clapping of hands the cue " in death expire," and catch her and stamping of feet at this proposition, in his arms when she died raving mad, the subject whereof gently inclined her went through the performance with extrahead several times, in acknowledgment ordinary spirit, and to the great terror of of thc reception. the little Kenwigses, who were all but "You kn,w," said. Miss Petowker, re- frightened into fits. proachfully " that I dislike doing any. The ecstasies consequent upon the effort thing professional in private parties." had not yet subsided, and Newman (who " Oh, but not here?" said Mrs. Ken- had not been thoroughly sober at so late wigs. "We are all 80 very friendly and an hour for a long, long time,) had not yet pleasant, that you might as well be going been able to put in a word of announcethrough it in your own room; besides, inent tha.t the punch was ready, when a the occasion — " hasty knock was heard at the room-door, "I can't resist that," interrupted Miss which elicited a shriek from Mrs. KenPetowker, "anything in my humble power wigs, who immediately divined that the I shall be delighted to do." baby had fallen out of bed. Mrs. Kenwigs and Miss Petowker had "Who is that?" demanded Mr. Ken arranged a small programme of the enter- wigs, sharply. tainments between them, of which this "Don't be alarmed, it's only me," said was the prescribed order, but they had Crowl, looking on, in his nightcap. "The settled to have a little pressing on both baby is very comfortable, for I peeped into sides, because it looked more natural. The the room as I came down, and it's fast company being all ready, Miss Petowker asleep, and so is the girl; and I don't hummed a tune, and Morleena danced a think the candle will set fire to the bed dance, having previously had the soles of curtain, unless a draught gets into th, her shoes chalked with as much care as if room-it's Mr. Noggs that's wanted. she were going on the tight-rope. It was " Me!" cried Newman, much astonished a very beautiful figure, comprising a great " Why it is a queer hour, isn't it?" re deal of work for the arms, and was re- plied Crowl, who was not best pleased al ceived with unbounded applause. the prospect of losing his fire; " and they "If I was blessed with a —-a child-" are queer-looking people, too, all covered said Miss Petowker, blushing, " of such with rain and mud. Shall I tell them to genius as that, I would have her out at go away?" the Opera instantly." "No," said Newman, rising. "People I Mrs. Kenwigs sighed and looked at Mr. How many?" Kenwigs, who shook his head, and observ- "Two," rejoined Crowl. ed that he was doubtful about it. " Want me? By name?" asked New " Kenwigs.is afraid," said Mrs. K. man. "What of?" inquired Miss Pet6wker, "By name," replied GCrowl. "Mr. New. "not of her failing?" man Noggrs, as pat as need be."' Oh, no," replied Mrs. Kenwigs, " but Newman reflccted for a few seconds, and if she grew up what she is now,-only then hurried away,mutteringthat hewould think of the young dukes and marquises." be back directly. IIe was as good as his "Very right," said the collector. word; for in an exceedingly short time he "Still," submitted Miss Petowker, "if burst into the room, and seizing, without she has a proper pride in herself, you a word of apology ox explanation, a lighted know " candle and tumbler of hot punch from the " There's a good deal in that," observed table, darted away like a madman. Mi-s. Kenwigs, looking at her husband. "What the deuce is the matter with "I only know-" faltered Miss Petow- him!" exclaimed Crowl, throwing the kor,-_it may be no rule to be sure-but door open. " Hark! Is there any noise I have never found any inconvenience or above?" unpleasantness of that sort." The guests rose in great confusion, and, Mr. Kenwigs, with becoming gallantry, looking in each other's faces with much said that settled the question at once, and perplexity and some fear, stretched their that he would take the subject into his necks forward, and listened attentively. NICHOLAS NICKLEB. 98 CHAPTER XV. ACQUAINTS THE READER WITH THE CAUSE AND ORIGIN OF THE INTERRUP. TI)N DEC RIBED IN THE LAST CHAPTER, AND WITH SOME OTHER. MATTERS NI.'CESSARY TO BE KNOWN. NEWMAN Noacs scrambled in violent man's means halting at a very considerahaste up stairs with the steaming bever- ble distance short of his inclinations; but age, which he had so unceremoniously slight as they were, they were not made snatched from the table of Mr. Kenwigs, without much bustling and running about. and indeed from the very grasp of the wa- As Nicholas had husbanded his scanty ter-rate collector, who was eyeing the con- stock of money so well that it was not yet tents of the tumblerat the moment of its quite expended, a supper of -bread and unexpected abstraction, with lively marks cheese, with some cold beef from the cook's of pleasure visible in his countenance, and shop, was soon placed upon the table; bore his prize straight to his own back gar- and these viands being flanked by a hotret, where, footsore and nearly shoeless, tle of spirits and a pot of porter; there was wet, dirty, jaded, and disfigured with every no ground for apprehension on the score mark of fatiguing travel, sat Nicholas and of hunger and thirst, at all events. Such Smike, at once the cause and partner of preparations as Newman had it in his his toil: both perfectly worn out by their power to make, for the accommodation of unwonted and protracted exertion. his guests during the night, occupied no Newman's first act was to compel Nich- very great time in completing; and as he clas, with gentle force, to swallow half of had insisted, as an express preliminary, the punch at a breath, nearly boiling as it that Nicholas should: change his clothes, was, and his next to pour the remainder and that Smike should invest himself in down the throat of Smike, who, never hav- his solitary coat (which no entreaties would ing tasted anything stronger than aperient dissuade him from stripping off for the medicine in his whole life, exhibited vari- purpose), the travellers partook of their ous odd manifestations of surprise and de- frugal fare, with more satisfaction than light, during the passage of the liquor one of them at least had derived from down his throat, and turned up his eyes many a better meal. most empbhaticall3 when i+- was all gone They ther drew near the fire, which "You are et through," said Newman, Newman Noggs had made up as well as passing his hand hastily over the coat he could, after the inroads of Cro'wl upon which Nicholas had thrown off; "and I- the fuel; and Nicholas, who had hitherto I —haven't even a change," he added, with been restrained by the extreme anxiety of a wistful.glance at the shabby clothes he his friend that he should refresh himself wore himself. after his journey, now pressed him with " I have dry clothes, or at least such as earnest questions concerning his mother will serve my turn well, in my bunrdle," and sister. replied Nicholas.'If you look so dis- "Well," replied Newman, with his actressed to see me, you will add to the pain customed taciturnity; " both well." I feel already, at being compelled for one "They are living in the city'still?" in, night to cast myself upon your slender quired Nicholas. metans for aid and shelter.". " They are," said Newman. Newman did not look the less distressed " And my sister"-added Nicholas. " Is to hear Nicholas talking in this strain; but she still engaged in the business which up-r' his young friend grasping him hear- she wrote to tell me she thought she should tily by the hand, and- assuring: him that like so much?" nthing but implicit confidence in the sin- Newman opened his eyes rather wider verity of his professions, and kindness of than usual, but merely replied by a gasp, feeling towards himself, would have in- which, according to the action of the head duced him, on any consideration, even to that accompanied it, was interpreted by have made him acquainted with his arri- his friends as meaning yes or no. In the val in London, Mr. Noggs brightened up present instance, the pantomime consisted again,and went about making such arrange- of a nod, and not a shake, so Nicholas ments as were in his power for. the com- took the answer as a ftavourable one. fort of his visitors, with extreme alacrity. "Now listen to me," said Nicholas, lay. These were simple enough, poor New-,ing his hand on Newmanu's shoulder. " B iIs, ~.I. O(LAS NICK LEBY'. tare I would make an effort to see them, I if you take everybody's part that's ill deemed it expedient to come to you, lest, -reated —Damn it, I am proud to hear of by gratifying my own selfish desire. I it; and would have done it myself?" should inflict an injury upon theme 9'hib Newman accompanied this very unusual I can never repair. What has my uncle outbreak with a violent blow upon the taIeard from Yorkshire?" ble, as if, in the heat of the moment, he N'.ewman opened and shut his mouth se- had mistaken it for the chest or ribs of Mr. veral times, as though he were trying his Wackford Squeers; and having, by thli utmost to speak, but could make nothing iopen declaration of his feelings, quite pre. of it, -and finally fixed his eyes on Nicho- 3luded himself from offering Nicholas any las with a grim and ghastly. stare. cautious worldly advice (which had been "What has heheard?" urged Nicholas, his first intention),Mr. Noggs went straight pelouting. " Yo.u see that I am prepared to the point. to hear the very worst that malice can "Thie day before yesterday," said Newhave suggested. Why should you conceal man, "your uncle received this letter. 1 it from me? I must know it sooner or: took, a hasty copy of it while he was out. iater; and what purpose- can be gained by Shall I read it?" trifling with the matter for a few mlinutes, "If you please," replied Nicholas. Newwhen ialf the time would put me in poes- man Noggs accordinglty read as follows:Session of all that has occurred? Tell.me at once, pray." "Dotheboys Hall, "To-morrow morning," said Newman; "Thursday Jiorning. " hear it to-morrow." " SIRn, "What purpose would that answer?" "My pa requests me to write to you. Urged Nicholas. The doctors considering it doubtful whe-'You would sleep the better," replied ther he will ever recuvver the use of his Newman. legs which prevents his holding a pen. " I should sleep the worse," answered "We are in a state of mind beyond Nicholas, impatiently. "Sleep! Exhaust- everything, and my pa is one mask of ed as I am, and standing in no common brooses both blue and green likewise two need of rest, I cannot hope to. close my forms are steepled in his Goar. We w ere eyes all night, unless you tell me every- kimpelled to have him carried down into thing." the kitchen where he now lays. You will " And if I should tell you everything," judge from this that he has been brought said Newman, hesitating. very low. i" Why, then:yo may rouse my indigna- "When your nevew that you recomtion or wound, my pride," rejoined Nicho- mended for a teacher had done this to my las; "but you will not break my rest;: for pa.and jumped upon his body with his feet if the scene were acted over again, I could and also langwedge which I will not polteke no other part than Ihave taken; and lewt my pen with describing, he assaulted whatever consequences may accrue to my- my ma with dreadful violefince, dashed her self from it, I shall never regret doing as to the earth, and drove her back comb seveI have-never, if I starve or beg in conse- ral inches into her head. A very little more quence. What is a little poverty or suf- and'it must have entered her skull. We fering, to the disgrace ~of the basest and have a medical certifiket that if it had, the most inhuman cowardice! I tell you, if I tortershell would have affected the brain. had stood by, tamely and passively, I "Me and my brother were then the vieshould have hated myself and merited the tims of his feury since which we have suf& contempt of every man in existence. The fered very much which leads us to the arblack-hearted scoundrel 1".' rowing belief that we have received some With this gentle allusion to the absent inju:ry in our insides, especially as no Mr. Squeers, Nicholas repressed his rising marks of violence are visible externally. I wrath, and relating to Newmanl exactly am screaming out loud all the time I write what had passed at Dotheboys I-all en- and so is my brother which takes off my treated him to speak out without further' attention rather, and I hope' will excuse pressing.. Thus adjured, Mr. Noggs took mistakes. i: from an old trunk a sheet of paper, which i "The monster having satlted his thirst appeared to have been scrawled. oyver in for blood ran away, taking with him a boy great haste; and after sundry extraordina- of desperate caracter that he had excited ry demonstrations of reluctance, delivered to rebellyon, and a garnet ring belonging himself in the following terms. to my ma, and not having been apprehend"' My dear young man, you mustn't give ed by the constables is supposed to have way to -this sort of thing will never do, been took up by some stage-coach. My pa you kn )w-as to getting in in the world, begs that if he comes to you the ring may NICHIOLAS NICK LEBY. be returned, and that you will let the thief Itampering with anybody. When he re* and assassin g), as if we prosecutes him hb turns, go straight to him, and speak as would only be transported, and if he is let, boldly:Ls you like. Guessiilor at the real go he is sure to be hung before long,which: truth, he knows it as well; you or I, will save us trouble, and be much more Trust him for that." satisfactory. Hoping to hear from you "You mean well to me, and shinld know when convenient. him better than I cin," replied Nicholas, "1 remain after some further thought. " Well; let "Yburs and cetrer it be. so." "FANNY SQUEERS. Newman, who had stood during the fore"P. S. I. pity his ignorance and despise going conversation with his b:ack planted htim." against the door.ready to oppose any egress from the apartment by force, if necessary, A profound silence succeeded to the resumed his seat with much satisfaction reading of this choice epistle, duringwhich and as the water in the ketth lwas by this Newman Noggs, as he folded it up, gazed time boiling, made aglas-full of spirits and with a kind of grotesque pity at the. boy of water for Nicholas, and a cracked imug-full desperate character therein referred to; for the joint accommodation of li imself and who, having no more distinct perception of Smike, of which the two parltook in great t.he matter in hand,.than that lie had been harmony, while Nicholas, leaning his head the unfortunate cause of heaping trouble upon his hand, remained buried in moelanand falsehood upon Nicholas, sat mute and choly meditation. dispirited, with a most woe-begone and Meanwhile the company below stairs, heart-stricken look. after listening attentively and not hearing' Mr. Noggs," said Nicholas, after a few any noise which would justify them in inmoments' reflection, "I must go out at terfering for the gratification of their curionce." osity, returned to the chamber of the Ken. "Go out!" cried Newman. wigses, and employed themselves in ha"Yes," said Nicholas,"to Golden Square. zarding l great variety of conjectures rela. Nobody who knows me would believe this tive to the cause of Mr. Noggs's- sudden story of the ring; but it may suit the pur- disappearance and detention. pose or gratify the hatred of Mr. Ralph " Lor, I'll tell you what;" said Mrs. Nickleby to feign to attach credence to it. Kenwigs. " Suppose it should be an exIt is due-not to-him, but to myself-that press sent up to say that his property has I should state the truth; and moreover, I all come back again!" have a word or two to exchange with him, "Dea.r m.e," said Mr. Kenwigs; "it's which will not keep cool." not impossible. Perhaps, in that case, "'They must," said Newman. we'd better send up and ask if he won't "They must not, indeed," rejoined Nich- take a little more punch." olas firmly, as he prepared to leave the "Kenwigs," said Mr. Lillyvick, in a house. loud voice, "I am surprised at you." " lear me speak," said Newman, plant- "What's the matter, Sir?" asked Mr. ing( himself before his impetuous young Kenwigs, with becoming submission to friend. " He is not there. Ife is away the collector of.water rates. from town. -- He will not be back for three "Making such a remark: as that, Sir," days; and I know that letter will not be replied Mr. Lillyvick, angrily. "lie has answered before he returns." had punch already, has he not, Sir? I con. " Are you sure of this?" asked Nicholas, sider the way in which that punch was cut chafing violently, and pacing the narrow off, if I may use the expression, highly disroom with rapid strides. respectful to this company; scandalous, "Quite," rejoined Newman. " He had perfeOtly scandalous. It may be the cushardly read it when he was called away. tom to allow such; things in this house, but Its contents are known to nobody but him- it's not the kind of behaviour that I';e self and us." been used to see displayed, and so I don't "Are you certain?" demanded Nicholas, mind telling you, Kenwigs. A gentleman precipitately; " not even to my mother or has a glass of punch before him to which sister? If I thought that they —I will go he is just about to set his lips, when anV.ere-I must see them. Which is the other gentleman. comes and collars that way? Where is it?" glass of punch, without a'with your leave,' "Now be advised by me," said Newman, or' by your leave,' and carries that glass speaking for the moment, in his earnest- of punch; away. This may be good manness, like any other man-"make no effort ners-I dare say, it is —but I don't under. to see even them, till he comes home. I stand it, that's all; and what's more, I know the man. lDo not see n to have been don't care' if I never do. It's my way to H96g NICEIOLAS NICKLEBY. speak my mind, Kenwigs, and that is my his nephew-in-law TII gare tup his hat, mind; and if you don't like it, it's past my and held out his hand. regular time for going to bed, and I can "There, Kenwigs," said Mr. Lillyvick; find my way home without making it later." " and let me tell you at the same time, to Here was an untoward event. The col- show you how much out of temper I was, lect,:r had sat swelling and fuming in of- that if I had gone away without another fended dignity for some minutes, and had word, it would have made no difference renow fairly burst out. The great man-the specting that pound or two which I shall rich relation-the unmarried uncle-who leave among your children when I die." had it in his power to make Morleena an "Morleena Kenwigs," cried her mother, heiress, and the very baby a legatee-was in a torrent of affection. " Go down upon offended. Gracious Powers, where was your knees to your dear uncle, and beg him this to end! to love you all his life through, for he's "I am very sorry, Sir," said Mr. Ken- more a angel than a man, and I've always wight, humbly. said so." "-on't tell me you're sorry,' retorted Miss Morleena approaching to do homMr. Lillyvick, with much sharpness. "You age in compliance with this injunction was should have prevented it, then." summarily caught up and kissed by Mr. The company were quite paralysed by Lillyvick, and thereupon Mrs. Kenwigs this domestic crash. The back parlour sat darted forward and kissed the collector, with her mouth wide open, staring vacant- and an irrepressible murmur of applause ly at the collector in a stupor of dismay, broke from the company who had witnessed and the other guests were scarcely less his magnanimity. overpowered by the great man's irritation. The worthy gentleman then became once Mr. Kenwigs not being skilful in such more the life and soul of the society, being matters only fanned the flame in attempt- again reinstated in his old post of lion, from ing to extinguish it. which high station the temporary distrac-' I didn't think of it, I am sure, Sir," tion of their thoughts had for a moment dissaid that gentleman. "I didn't suppose possessed him. Quadruped lions are said that such a little thing as a glass of punch to be savage only when they are hungry; would have put you out of temper."' biped lions are rarely sulky longer than "Out of temper i What the devil do when their appetite for distinction remains you:mean by that piece of impertinence, unappeased. Mr. Lillyvick stood higher r. Ken wigs?" said the collector. "Mor- than ever, for he bad shown his power, leena, child-give me my hat." hinted at his property and testamentary "Oh, you're not going, Mr. Lillyvick, intentions; gained great credit for disilSir," interposed Miss Petowker, with her terestedness and virtue; and in addition most bewitching smile. to all, he was finally accommodated with a But still Mr. Lillyvick, regardless of the much larger tumbler of punch than that syren, cried obdurately, " Morleena, my which Newman Noggs haLd so feloniously hat!" upon the fourth repetition of which made off with. demand Mrs. Kenwigs sunk back in her "I say, I beg everybody's pardon for inchair, with a cry that might have softened truding again,)" said Crowl, looking in at a water-butt, not to say a water collector; this happy juncture; " but what a queer while the four little girls (privately in- business this is, isn't it? Noggs has lived structed to that effect) clasped their uncle's in this house now going on for five years, corduroy shorts in their arms, and prayed and nobody has ever been to see him behim in imperfect English to remain. fore within the memory of the oldest in. "Why should I stop here, my dears?" habitant." said Mr. Lillyvick; "I'm not wanted here." "It's a strange time of night to be called "Oh, do not speak so cruelly, uncle," away, Sir, certainly," said the collecttr; sobtbed NMrs, Kenwigs, ".unless you wish " and the behaviour of Mr. Noggs himself to ltill nle." is, to say the least of it, mysterious." "I shotldn't wonder if some people were "Well, so it is," rejoined Crowl "and to say 1 did," replied Mri. Lillyvick, glanc- I'll tell you what's more —I think these ing angrily at Kenwigs. "Out of temper." two geniuses, whoever they are, have rum Oh! I cannot bear to see him look so away from somewhere." atmy husband," cried Mrs. Kenwigs. "It's "What makes you think that, Sir?" deso dreadful in families. Oh!" manded the collector, who seemed by a ta" rMr. Lillyvick," said Kenwigs, "I cit understanding to have been chosen and hope for the sake of your niece, that you elected mouthpiece to the company. "You won't object to be reconciled." I have no reason to suppose that they have The collector's: features relaxed as the run away from anywhere without paying ompany.added their entreaties to those of the rates and taxes due, I hope?" NICIIOLAS NICKLEBY. 93 Mr.: Crowl, with a look of some con- hands upon'Mrs. Kei.wigs, tLd hol ding tempt, was about to enter a general protest her back by force. "Oh don't twist about, against the payment of rates or taxes, so, dear, or I can never hold you." under any circumstances, when he was "My baby, my blessed, blessed, blessed, checked by a timely whisper from Kenwigs, blessed baby," screamed Mrs. Kenwigs, and severalfrowns and winks from Mrs. K., making every blessed louder than the which providentially stopped him. last. "My own darling, sweet, innocent "Why the fact is," said Crowl, who had Lillyvick-Oh let me go to him. Let me been listening at Newman's door, with all go-o-o-o." his might and main; " the fact:is, that they Pending the utterance:of these frantic have been talking so loud, that they quite cries, and the wails and lamentations of disturbed me in my room, and so I couldn't the four little girls, Mr. Kenwigs rushed help catching a word here, and a word up stairs to the room whence the sounds there; and all I heard certainly seemed to proceeded, at the door of which he encounrefer to their having bolted from some place tered Nicholas, with the child in his arms, or other. I don't wish to alarm'Mrs. Ken- who darted out with such violence, that the wigs; but I hope they haven't come from anxious father was thrown down six stairs, any jail 6r hospital, and brought away: a and alighted on the nearest landing-place, fever or some unpleasantness of that sort, before he had found time to open his which might be catching for the children." mouth to ask what was the matter. Mrs. Kenwigs was so overpowered by "Don't be alarmed," cried Nicholas,. this supposition, that it needed all the ten- running down; "here it is; it's all out, der attentions of Miss Petowker, of the it's all over.; pray compose yourselves; Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, to restore her there's no harm done; and with these and to anything like a state of calmness; not a thousand other assurances, he delivered: to mention the assiduity of Mr. Kenwigs, the baby (whom, in his hurry, he had carwho held a fat smelling-bottle to his lady's ried upside down,) to Mrs. Kenwiffs, and nose, until it became a matter of some ran back to assist Mr. Kenwigs, who was doubt, whether the tears which coursed rubbing his head very hard, and looking down her face, were the result of feelings much bewildered by his tumble. or sal volatile. Reassured by this cheering intelligence, The ladies having expressed their svm- the company in some degree recovered pathy singly and separately, fell, according from their fears, which had been proto custom,into a little chorus of soothing ex- ductive of some most singular instances of pressions, among which, such condolences a total want of presence of mind; thus the as " Poor dear 1" —" I should- feel just the bachelor friend had for a long time sup. same, if I was her"-" To be sure, it's a ported in his arms Mrs. Kenwigs's sister, very trying thing"-and " Nobody but a instead of Mrs. Kenwigs; and the worthy mother knows what a mother's feelings is," Mr. Lillyvick had been actually seen in were auong the most prominent and most the perturbation of his spirits, to kiss Miss frequently repeated. In short, the opinion Petowker several times, behind the room of the company was so clearly manifested, door, as calmly as if nothing distressing that Mr. Kenwigs was on the point of re- were going forward. pitiring to Mr. Noggs's room, to demand an "It's a mere nothing," said Nicholas, reexplanation; and had indeed swallowed a turning to Mrs. Kenwigs; " the little girl, preparatory glass of punch, with great in- who was watching the child, being tired I flexibility and steadiness of purpose, when suppose fell asleep, and set her hair on fire." the attention of all present was diverted "Oh you malicious little wretch!" cried by a new and terrible surprise. Mrs. Kenwigs, impressively shaking her This was nothing less than the sudden fore-finger at the small unfortunate, who pouring forth of a rapid succession of the might be thirteen years old, and was lookshrillest and most piercing screams, from ing on with a singed head and a frightan upper story; and to all appearance from ened face. the very two-pair back in' which the infant "I.I heard her cries," continued NichoKenwigs was at that moment enshrined. las, " and ran down in time to prevent her Theywere no sooner audible, than Mrs. setting fire to any thing else.' You may Kenwigs, opining that a strange cat had depend upon it that the child is nct hurt; come in, and sucked the baby's breath for I took it off thebed myself, and brought while the girl was asleep, made for the it here to convince you." door, wringing her hands, and shrieking This brief explanation over, the infant, dismally; to the great consternation and who, as he was christened after the collecconfusion of the company. txr, rejoiced in the names of Lillyvick "Mr. Kenwigs, see what it is; make Kenwigs, was partially suffocated under haste I" cried the sister, laying violent the caresses of the audience, and squeezed IS NTI.CICHOLAS NICKLEBY. to his mother's bosom until he: roared sidered in arter years of a piece witlh the again. The attention of the company was Lillyvicks- whose name he bears. I do say then directed, by a natural transition, to -and Mrs. Kenwigs is of the same senthe little girl who had had the audacity to timent, and feels it as strong as I do-that burn her hair off, and who, after receiving I consider his being called Lillyvick one sundry small slaps and pushes from the of the.greatest blessings and honours of more energetic of the ladies, was merci- my existence." fully sent home; the ninepence, with "The greatest blessing, Kenwigs," mlqrwhich she was to have been rewarded, mured his lady. being escheated to the Kenwigs family. " The greatest blessing," said Mr. %Ken"And whatever we are to say to you, wigs, correcting himself. "A blessing Sir," exclaimed Mrs. Kenwigs, addressing that I hope one of these days I nmay be young Lillyvick's deliverer, "I am sure I able to deserve." don't know." This was a politic stroke of the Ken" You need say nothing at all," replied wigses, because it made Mr. Lillyvickl the Nicholas. " I have done nothing to found great head and fountain of the baby's imany very' strong claim upon your elo- portance. The good gentleman felt the quence, I am sure." delicacy and dexterity of the touch, and at "He might have been burnt to death, once proposed the health of the gentleman, if it hadn't been for you, Sir," simpered name unknown, who had signalised himMiss Petowker. self thatnight by his coolness and alacrity. "Not very likely, I think," replied "Who, I don't mind saying," observed Nicholas; " for there was abundance of as- Mr. Lillyvick, as a great concession, " is sistance here, which must have reached a good-looking young man enough, with him before he had been in any danger." manners that I hope his character may be "You will let us drink your health, any- equal to." vays, Sir?" said Mr. Kenwigs, motioning "lie has a very nice face and style, towards the table. really," said Mrs. Kenwigs. - " In my absence, by all means," re- "He certainly has," added Miss Pa joined Nicholas, with a smile. " I have towker. " There's something in his aphad a very fatiguing journey, and should pearance quite —dear, dear, what's that be most indifferent company-a fargreater word again?" check upon your merriment than a pro- "What word?'" inquired Mr. Lillyvick.-,moter of it, even if I kept awake, which I "Whyv-dear me, how stupid I am," think very doubtful. If you will allow replied Miss Petowker; hesitating. "What me, I'll return to my friend, Mr. Noggs, do you call it when Lords break off doorwho went up stairs again, when he found knockers and beat, policemen, and play at:. nothing serious had occurred. Good night." coaches with Mother people's money, and Excusing himself in these terms from all that sort of thing?" joining in the festivities, Nicholas took a "Aristocratic?" suggested the collector. most winning farewell of Mrs. Kenwigs "Ah! aristocratic," replied Miss Petow-i iand the other ladies, and retired, after ker; "something very aristocratic about making a very extraordinary impression him, isn't there?" upon the company. The gentlemen held their peace and "What a dblightful young man!" cried smiled at each other, as who would say, Mrs. Kenwigs. "Well! there's notaccounting for tastes;" " Uncommon gentleon.anly, really," said but the ladies resolved unanimo(usly that: Ir. Kenwigs. "Don't you think so, Mr. Nicholas had an aristocratic air, and noLillyvick?" body caring to dispute the position, it was "' Yes," said the collector,with a dubious established triumphantly. shrug of his shoulders. " He is gentle- The punch being by this time drunk ma/nly,very gentlemanly-in appearance." out, and the little Kenwigses (who had for "I hope you don't see anything against some time previously held their little eyes him, uncle?" inquired Mrs. Kenwigs. open with their little fore-fingers) becom"No, my dear," replied the collector, ing fractious, and requesting rather ur-' "n, I trust he may not turn out-well- gently to be put to bed, the collector made ao matter-my love to you, my dear, and a move by pulling out his watch, and aoting lifte to the baby." quainting the company that it was nigh "Your namesake," said Mrs. Kenwigs, two o'clock; whereat some of the. guests with a, sweet smile. were surprised and others shocked, and " And I hope a worthy namesake," ob- hats and bonnets being groped for under served MI Kenwigs, willing to propitiate the tables, and in course of time found, the collector. "I hope a baby aswill never their owners went away, after a vast deal disgrace his godfather and as may be con- of shaking of hands, and many remarks NICHIOLAS NICKLEBY. BY how they had never spent such a delight-I selves only half as well as they said they ful evening, and how they marvelled to find had. it so late, expecting to have heard that it As to Nicholas, quite unconscious of the was half-past ten at the very latest, and impression he had produced, he head long how they wished that Mr. and Mrs. Ken- since fallen asleep, leaving, Mr. Newman. wigs had a wedding-day once a week, and Noggs and Smike to empty the spirit bottle how they wondered by what hidden agency between them; and this office they perMrs. Kernwigs could possibly have man- formed with- such extreme good will, that aged so well; and a great deal wmore of the.Newman was equally at a loss to detersame kind. To)all of which flattering ex- mine whether he himself was quite sober pressions Mr. and Mrs. Kenvwigs replied, and whether he had ever seen any gentle by tihanking every lady and gentleman, m.Ln so heavily, drowsily, and completely seriatim, for the favour of their company, intoxicated as his new acquaintance. alid hoping they might have enjoyed themCHAPTER XVI. NICHOLAS SEEKS TO EMPLOY HIMSELF IN.A NEW CAPACITY, AND BEING UNSUCCESSFUL, ACCEPTS AN ENGAGEMENT AS TUTOR IN A PRIVATE FAMILY. TnTE first careof Nicholas next morning took himself to the streets, and mingled was, to look after some room in which, tun- with the crowd which thronged them. til better times dawned upon hi'm, he could Although a man may lose a Sense of his contrive to exist, without trenching -upon own importance when he is a mere unit the hospitality of Newman wNoggs, who amonga busy throng, all utterly regardwould have slept upon the stairs with plea- less of him, it by no means fi,llows that he sure, so that his young friend was accom- can dispossess himself, with equal facility, niodated. of a very strong sense of the importance The vacant apartment to which the bill and magnitude of his cares. The unhappy in the parlour window bore reference, ap- state of his own.affairs was the one idea peared on inquiry to be a small- backroom wlhich occupied- the brain of Nicholas, on the second floor, reclaimed firom the: walk as fast as he would; and when he leads, and overlooking a soot-bespeekled' tried to dislodge it by speculating on the prospect of tiles and chimrney-pots. lFar situation and prospects of the people who the letting of this portion of the.house surrounded him,he caught himself in a few from week to week, on reason able: terms, seconds contrasting their condition with the p.,rl,,ur lodfier was empowered to treat, his own, and gliding almost imperceptibly he being deputed by the landlord to dis- back into -li's ol01 train of'thought again. pose of:the rooms as. they becamnTe vacant, Occupied in these reflections, as he was and to keep a sharp look-ou-t.. hat'thbe lod- making slis way along one of the-great pubgelrs didn't run away. As a-means.of lie thorou hfares of Londoni, he chanced securing the punctual discharge of which to -raise his eses to a blue board, whereon last serxice, he was permittedt b live'rent- was imnscribed in characters of gold, "Genfree, le;t he should at anytime be tempted' eral Agency Office; for places and situsto u. Ui away himself. tions of all kinds inquire within." It was Of this chamber Nicholas became the a shop-front, fitted up with a gauze blind tenant;'and:having' hired' a few common and an inner door; and in:the window aricles of furniture friom a neighbouring hung a long and tempting array of written broker, and paid the first"Week's hire in plactrds, announcing vacithtpleCesof every advance, out of a small fund raised by the grade, from a secretary's to a footboy's. corvelsion of some spnre clothes into ready Nicholas halted instinetitely before thi mJnev, he sat himself down, to ruminate temple of promise, and ran his eye oven uion Ahis prospects, whidh, like, that out- the capitai-text openings'ih li fe which were side his window, were Sufficiently confined so profusely displayed. When lie had and dingy. As they by no means improved completed his survey, he tvalked on a lit on better acquaintance, and as familiarity tie way, and then back, and then on again:; breeds contempt, he resolved to- banish at'length, after pausin'girresolutely several,them from his thoughts by dint of hard times before the door; of the- Ge'iner'l talking. So, taking up his hat, and Agency Office, he made uplbhis mind'and leaving poor Smike to arrange and re- stepped in. arrange the room with as much delight as IHe found himself il a little floor-clothed'f it'had been the costliest palace, he be-' room, with a high deSAk izalled off in onu o00 NICHIIOLAS NICKLEBY. corner, behind which sat a leanyouth with the cook is more serious than ihe fobt. cunning eyes and a protruding chin, whose man, she will be expected to improve the performances in capital-text darkened the footman; if the footman is more serious:wind w. He had a thick ledger lying than the cook, he will be expected toirnopen before hint, and with the fingers of prove the cook.'" his right hand inserted between the leaves, "I'll take the address of that place," and his eyes fixed on a very fat old lady said the client,; " I don't know but what in a mob-cap-evidently the proprietress it mightn't suit me pretty well." of the establishment-who was airing her- "Here's another," remarked Tom, turnself at the fire, seemed to be only waiting ing. over the leaves; "'Faniily of Mr. her directions to refer to- some entries con- Gallanbile, M. P. Fifteen guineas, tea tained within its rusty clasps. and sugar, and servants allowed to see As there was a board outside, which ac- male cousins, if godly. Note. Cold dinquainted the public that servants-of-all ner in the kitchen on the Sabbath, MIr. work were perpetually in waiting to be Gallanbile being devoted to the Observance hired from ten till four, Nicholas knew at question. No victuals whatever cooked on once that some half-dozen strong young the Lord's Day, with the exception of dinwomen, each with pattens and an urn- ner for Mr. and Mr,. Gallanbile, which, brella, who were sitting upon a form in being a work of piety and necessity, is e[one corner, were in attendance for that empted.' Mr. Gallanbile dines late on the purpose, especially as the poor things day of rest, in order to prevent the sinfullooked anxious and weary. Ile was not ness of the cook's dressing herself.' quite so certain of the callings and sta- "I don't think that'll answer as well af tions of two smart young ladies who, were the other," said the client, after a littl in conversation with the fat lady before whispering with her friend. " TI'll take the fire, until-having sat himself down the other direction, if you please, young in a corner, and remarked that he would man. I can but come back again, if it wait until the other customers had been don't. do." served-the fat lady resumed the dialogue Tom made out the address, as requestwhich his entrance had interrupted.'.d, and the genteel client, having satisfied "Cook, Tom," said the fat lady, still the. fat lady with a small fee meanwhile, airing herself as aforesaid. went away, accompanied by her friend.'Cook," said Tom, turning over some As Nicholas opened his mouth, to releaves of the ledger. " Well."; quest the young man to turn to letter S, "Read out an easy place or two," said and let him know what secretaryships rethe fat lady. mained undisposed of, there came into the "Pick out very light ones, if you please, office an applicant, in whose favour he imyoung man," interposed a genteel fbmaie mediately retired, and whose appearance in shephlerd's-plaid boots; who appeared both surprised and interested him. to be the client. This was a young lady^ who'could be "'Mrs. Marker,'" said Tom, reading, scarcely eighteen, of very slight and deli"'Russell Place, Russell Square; offers cate figure., but exquisitely shaped, who, eighteen guineas, tea and sugar found. walking timidly up to the desk, made an Two in family, and see very little compa- inquiry, in a very low tone of voice, relany. Five.servants kept. No man. No tive to some situation as governess, or followers.'". companion to a lady. She raised her veil "Oh Lor I" tittered the client. "That for an instant, while she preferred the' inwon't do. Read another, young man, will: quiry, and disclosed a countenance of most you?" uncommon beauty, although shaded by a "' Mrs. Wrymug,' "said Tom. "' Plea- cloud of sadness, which in one so young sant Place. Finsbuyry., Wages, twelve was doubly remarkable. Having received guineas. No tea, Ho sugar. Serious a card of reference to some person on th,' (amily-'_" books, she made the usual acknowledg"Ah I you needn't mind reading that," ment, and glided away. interrupted the client. She was neatly, but very quietly attired; "' Three serious footmen,'"'said Tom, so much so, indeed, that it seemed as if impressively. her dress, if it had been worn by one who "Three, did you say?" asked the client, imparted fewer graces of her own to it, in an altered tone., might have looked poor and shabby. HIer "Three serious footmen," replied Tom.'attendant-for she had one-was a red"' Cook, housemaid, and nursemaid; faced. round-eyed, slovenly girl, who, from each female servant required to join the a certain roughness about the bare arms.ittle Bethel; Congregation three times ev- that peeped from under her draggledshawl, try Suaday-with a serious footman. If and the half-washed-out traces of smut and NICthOLAS NICKLEBY. 101 biacklead which tattooed her countenance, "I don't know what the number is," was clearly of a kin with the servants-ot- said Tonm; "but Manchester Buildings all-work on the form, between whom and isn't a large place; and if the worst comes herself there had passed various grins and to the worst, it won't take you very long glances, indicative of the freemasonry of to knock at all the doors on both sides of the craft. i the way, till you find him out. I say, what The girl followed her mistress; and be- a good-looking gal that was, wasn't she?" fore Nichol-as had recovered from the first "What girl, Sir?" demanded Nikholas, effects of his surprise and admiration, the sternly. young lady was gone. It is pot a matter "Oh yes. I know-what gal, eh?" of such complete and utter improbability whispered Tom, shutting one eye, and as some sober people may think, that he cocking his chin in thle air. "You would have followed them out, had he not didn't see her, you didn't-I say don't been restrained by what passed between you wish you was me when she comes tothe fat lady and her book-keeper. morrow morning?" "When is she coming again, Tomn?" Nicholas looked at the ugly clerk, as if asked the fat lady. he had a mind to reward his admiration of "To-morrow morning," replied Tom, the young lady by beating the ledger about mending his pen. his ears, but he refrained, and strode "Where have you sent her to?" asked haughtily out of the office; setting at defithe fat lady. ance, in his indignation, those ancient laws "Mrs. Clark's," replied Tom. of chivalry, which not only made it proper " She'll have a nice life of it, if she goes and lawful for all good knights to hear the there," observed the fat lady, taking a pinch praise of the ladies to whom they were de of snuff from a tin box. voted, but rendered it incumbent upon Tom made no other reply than thrusting them to roam about the world, and knock his tongue into his cheek, and pointing at head all such matter-of-fact and unpoetthe feather of his pen towards Nicholas- ical characters, as declined to exalt, above reminders which elicted from the fat lady all the earth, damsels whom they had an inquiry of " Now, Sir, what can we do never chanced to look upon or hear of-as for you T" if that were any excuse. Nicholas briefly replied, that he wanted Thinking no longer of his own misfor to know whether there was any such post tunes, but wondering what could be those as secretary or amanuensis to a gentleman of the beautiful girl he had seen, Nicholas, to be had. with many wrong turns, and many inqui "Any such!" rejoined the mistress; ries, and almost as many misdirections, "a dozen such. An't there, Tom?" bent his step towards the place whither "I should think so," answered that he had been directed. young gentleman; and as he said it, he Within the precincts of the ancient city winked towards Nicholas, with a degree of Westminster, and within half a quarter of familiarity which he no doubt intended of a mile of its ancient sanctuary, is a narfor a rather flattering compliment, but row and dirty region, the sanctuary of the with which Nicholas was most ungrate- smaller members of parliament in modern fully disgusted. days. It is all comprised in one street of Upon reference to the book, it appeared gloomy lodging-houses, from whose winthat the dozen secretaryships had dwindled dows.in vacation time there frown long down to one. Mr. Gregsbury, the great melancholy rows of bills, which say as member of parliament, of Manchester plainly as did the countenances of their 3cBuildings, Westminster, wanted a, young cupiers, ranged on ministerial and opposiman to keep his papers and correspond- tion benches in the session which slumbers ence in order; and Nicholas was exactly with its fathers, " To Let"-" To Let." In the sort of young man that Mr. Gregsbury busier periods of the year these, tills disapwanted. pear, and the houses swarm with legisla " I dvr't know what the terms are, as tors. There are legislators in the pqrlourg, hoe said he'd settle them himself with the in the first floor, in the second, in the third, party," observed the fat lady; "but they in the garrets; the small apartments reek must be pretty good ones, because he's a with the breath of deputations and dolemember of parliament." gates. In damp weather the place is renInexperienced as he was, Nicholas did dered close by the steams of moist acts of not feel quite assured of the force of this parliament and frowzy petitions; general reasoning, or the justice of this conclusion; postmen grow faint as they enter its infectbut without troubling himself to question ed limits, and shabby figures in quest of it, he took down the address, and resolved franks, flit restlessly to and fro like the -o wait upon Mr. Gregsbury without delay. tuoubled ghosts of Complete Letter-writers 102 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. departed. This is Manchester Buildings; I the man next him, when a sudden more and here, at all hours of the:night, may was visible on the stairs, and a voice was be heard the rattling of latch-keys in their heard to cry, " Now, gentlemen, have the respective keyholes, with now and then goodness to walk up." -when a gust of windsweeping ac r oss the So far from walking up, the gentlemen water which washes the ]uiildings' feet, on the stairs began to walk down with great impels the sound towards its entrance-the alacrity, and to entreat, with extraordinary weakk shrill voice of some young member politeness, that the gentlemen nearest the ractising the morrow's speech. All the street would go first; the gentlemen nearlive-long day there is a grinding'of organs est the street retorted, with equal courtesy,'and claX-. the whisperers would nod fiercely to each Gregsbury, has rendered this deputation other; or give their heads a relentless shake, from your constituents imperatively necee as if they were bent upon doing'something sary." -vry desperate, and were determined not "My conduct, Pugstyles," said Mr. eto be put off, whatever happened. Gregsbury,looking round upon the deputaAs a few minutes elapsed without any- tion with gracious magnaimity.-'"My conthing occurring to explain this phenonme- duct has been, and ever will be, regulated ton,t and as he felt his own position a pecu- by a sincere regard forthe true and real::li/rly unconlfortaible'one, Nicholas ias on interests of this great and happy country. th' pointtof seeking some infotrmation from Whether I look, at home or abroad, whethei N IC H O L AS N I C K LEE IB Y. [behold the peaceful, industrious commnu- hatve astonished them and made them nities of our island home, her rivers covered shrink in their shoes, or not?" with steam-boats, her roads with locomo- "Go on to the next one, my deal Pug tives, her streets with cabs, her skies with styles," said Mr. Gregsbury. balloons of a power and magnitude hitherto "Have you any explanation to offer with unknown in the history of aeronautics in reference to that question, Sir'" asked this or any other nation —I say, whether I Mr. Pugstyles. look merely at home, or stretching my eyes "Certainly not," said Mr. Gregsbury. further, contemplate the boundless prospect The members of the deputation lo(ked of conquest and possession-achieved by fiercely at each other, and afterwards at British perseverance and British valour- the member, and " dear Pugstyles" having which is outspread before me, I clasp my taken a very long stare at Mr. Gregsbury hanfds, and turning my eyes to the broad over the tops of his spectacles, resumed his expanse above my head. exclaim,' Thank list of inquiries. licaven, I am a Briton!' " " Question number two.-Whether, Sir, Tie time had been when this burst of you did not likewise give a volun tary pledge enthusiasm would have been cheered to the that you would support your colleague on very echo; but now the deputation re- every occasion; and whether you did not, ceived it with chilling coldness. The ge- the night before last, desert him and vote neral impression seemed to be, that as an upon the other side, because the wife of a explanation of Mr. Gregsbury's political leader on that other side had invited Mrs. condu4, it did not enter quite enough into Gregsbury to an evening party?" detail, and one gentleman in the rear did "Go onl," said Mr. Gregsbury. not scruple to remark aloud, that for his "Nothing to say to that, either, Sir?" purpose it savoured rather too much of a asked the spokesman. ganmmon" tendency. "Nothing whatever," replied Mr. Gregs. "The meaning of that term-gammon," bury. The deputation, who had only seen said Mr. Gregsbury, "'is unknown to me. him at canvassing or election time, were If it means that I grow a little too fervid, struck dumb by his coolness. Hle didn't or perhaps even hyperbolical, in extolling appear like the same man; then he was/all my native land, I admit the full justice of milk and honey —now he was all starch the remark. I am proud of this free and and vinegar. But men are so different at happy country. My form dilates, my eye different times! glistens, my breast heaves, my heart "Question number three-and last —" swemis, my bosom burns, when I call to said Mr. Pugstyles, emphatically. " Whemind. ier greatness dnd her glory." ther, Sir, you did not state upon the hust"We wish, Sir," remarked Mr. Pug- ings, that it was your firm and determined styles, calmly, " to ask you a few ques- intention to oppose everything proposed; to tions." divide the house upon every question, to'If you please, gentlemen; my time is move for returns on every subject, to place yours-and my country's-and my coun- a motion on the books every day, and, in try's-" said Mr. Gregsbury. short, in your own memorable words, to This permission being conceded, Mr. play the devil with everything and every. Pugstyles put on his spectacles, and refer- body?" With this comprehensive inquiry red to a written paper which he drew from Mr. Pugstyles folded up his list of queshis pocket, whereupon nearly every other tions, as did all his backers. mneln ber of the deputation pulled a written Mr. Gregsbury reflected, blew his nose, paper fiom his pocket, to check Mr. Pug- threw himself further back in his chair, stylts off, as he read the questions. came forward again, leaning his elbows on This done, Mr. Pugstyles proceeded to the table, made a triangle with his two b isi ness. thumbs and his two forefingers,and tapping' Question number one.-Whether, Sir, his nose with the apex thereof, replied you did not give a voluntary pledge previ- (smilingas he said it), "I denyeverything." ons to, your election, that in the event of At this unexpected answer ahoarse muryo,ur being returned you would immedi- mur arose from the deputation; and the aiely put down the practice of coughing same gentleman who had expressed an opiand groaning in the House of Commons. nion relative to the gammoning nature of And whether you did not submit to be the introductory speech, again made a mocoughed and groaned down in the very first nosyllabic demonstration, by growling out debate of the session and have since made "Resign;" which growl being taken up no effort to effect a reform in this respect? by his fellows, swelled into a very earnlest Whether you did not also pledge yourself and general remonstrance. to astonish the government, and make them "I am requested, Sir, to express a hope," shrink in their shoes. And whether you said Mr. Pugstyles, with a distant bows 7 104 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. "Ithat on receiving a requisition to that ef- "I should have done so if I had befeet from a great maiority of your constit- longed to it, but I do not," said Nicholas. -ents, you will not object at once to resign " Then how came you here, Sir?" was your seat in favour of some candidate whom the natural inquiry of Mr. Gregsbury, M. they think they can better trust." P. "And where the devil have you come To which Mr. Gregsbury read the fol- I from, Sir?" was the question which following reply, which, anticipating the re- lowed it. quest, he had composed in the fcrm of a "I brought this card from the General letter, whereof copies had been made to Agency Office, Sir," said Nicbolas, " wislhselld round to the newspapers. I ing to offer myself as your secretary, and understanding that you stood in need of "My DEAR PUGSTYLES, one." "Next to the welfare of our beloved isl" That's all you have come for. ih it?" and-this great and free and happy coun- said Mr. Gregsbur, eyei im in some said Mr. Gregsbury, eyeing him in some try, whose powers and resources are, I sin- doubt. cerely believe, illimitable-I value that noble independence which is an English- holas repledn the armatve. I poe wi a nil,"You have no connexion with any of man's proudest boast, and which I fondly y man's proudest boast, and which I fondly these rascally papers, have you'" said Mr. hope to bequeath to my children untar- Gregsbury. "You didn't get into the room nished and unsullied. Actuated by no per- to hear what was Doing forward, and put sonal motives, bdt moved only by high and great constitutional considerations which I I have no connexion, I am sorry to say, will not attempt to explain, for they are with anythi n at present," rejoined Nichoreally beneath the comprehension of those las,-politely enough, but quite at his ease. who have not made themselves masters, "Oh!" said Mr. Gregsbury. "How as I have, of the intricate' and arduousdid you find your way up here, then?" study of politics, I would rather keep my Nicholas related how he had been forced seat, and intend doing so..'-., ),. -ap bv the deputation. "Will you do me the favour to present " That was the way, was it?" said Mr. my compliments to the constituent body, Gregsbury. "Sit dwn." and acquaint them with this circumstance?s took a chai and Greg Nicholas took a chair, and Mr. Gregs"With great esteem,. My dear Pugstyles, bury stared at him for a long time, as if to &cl aar &cs"le make certain, before he asked any furtLer questions, that there were no objections to " Then you will not resign, under any his outward appearance. circumstances?" asked the spokesman. "You want to be my secretary, do you?" Mr. Gregsbury smiled, and shook his he said at length. head. "I wish to be employed in that capaci" Then good morning, Sir," said Pug- ty," replied Nich-olas. styles, angrily. " Well," said Mr. Gregsbury; "now "GoJ bless you," said Mr. Gregsbury. what can you do?" And the deputation, with many growls and "I suppose," replied Nicholas, smiling, scowls, filed off as quickly as the narrow- " that I can do what usually falls to the lot ness of the staircase would allow of their of other secretaries." getting down. "What's that 7" inquired Mr. Gregs. The last man being gone, Mr. Gregsbury bury. rubbed his hands and chuckled, as merry " What is it?" replied Nicholas. fellows will, when they think they have "Ah! What is it?" retorted the memsaid or done a more than commonly good ber, looking shrewdly at him, with his thing; he was so engrossed in: this self- head on one side. oongratulation, that he did not observe " A secretary's duties are rather difficult that Nicholas had been left behind in the to define, perhaps," said Nicliolas, conidshadow of the window-curtains, until that ering. " They include, I presume, cort young gentleman, fearing he might other- respondence." wise overhear some soliloquy intended to "Good," interposed Mr. GregsburyV have no listeners, coughed twice or thrice "The arrangement of papers and d:,su to attract the member's notice. ments-" " What's that?" said Mr. Gregsbury, in "Very good." sharp accents. "Occasionally, perhaps, the writing Nicholas stepped forward and bowed. from your dictation; and possibly,"-said "What do you do here?" asked Mr Nicholas, with a half smile, " the copying Gregsbury; "a spy upon my priva(:y! A of your speech for some public journal, concealed voter! You have heardl iy aLn- when you have made one of more than awer, Sir. Prai ~filow the deputation." usual importance." NICHOLAS NICKLEBY 101 " Certa; sly," rejoined Mr. Gregsbury. charge of my responsible anl arduous dou" What else?' ties, and so forth. You see:?" "Really," said- Nicholas, after a mo- Nicholas bowed. ment's refldction, " I am not able, at this " Besides which," continued Mr. Gregeinstant, to recapitulate any other duty of bury, " I should-expect him now and then a secretary, beyond the general one of to g; through a few figures in the printed making himself as agreeable and useful tables,. and to pick out a few results, so to his employer as he can, consistently that I might come out pretty well on timwvth his own respectability, and without ber duty questions, and finance questions, overstepping that line of duties which he and so on; and I should like him to get up undertakes to perform, and which the de- a few little arguments about the disastrous signation of his office is usually under- effects of a return to cash payments and a stood t) imply." metallic currency, with a touch now and Mr. Greg.sbury looked fixedly at Nicho- then about the exportation of bullion, and las for a sh jrt time, and then glancing the Emperor of Russia, and bank notes, warily rotr,'. the room, said in a suppress- and all that kind of thing, which it's only ed voice- necessary to talk fluently about, because " This JiX all very well, Mr. - what is nobody understands it. Do you take me?" your nanr' "" I think I understand," said Nicholas. " Nick)l Jy." "With regard to such questions as are " This.s all very well, Mr. Nickleby, not political," continued Mr. Gregsbury, and very proper, so far as it goes-so far warming; "and which one can't be exas it goes, but it doesn't go far enough. pected to care a damn about, beyond the There are other duties, Mr. Nickleby, natural care of not allowing inferior people which a:secretary to a parliamentary gen- to be as well off as ourselves, else where leman must never lose sight of. I should are our privileges? I should wish my seerequire to be crammed, Sir." retary to get together a few little flourish"I begyourpardon," interposed Nicho- ing speeches, of a patriotic cast. For inVls, doubtful whether hehad heard aright. stance, if any preposterous bill -were "-To be crammed, Sir," repeated Mr. brought forward for giving poor grubbing (Gregsbury. devils of authors a right to their own pro-'"May I beg your pardon again, if I in- perty, I should like to say, that I for one quire what you mean?" said Nicholas. would never consent to opposing an insur"My meaning, Sir, is perfectly plain," mountable bar to the diffusion of literature replied Mr. Gregsbury, with a solemn as- among thepeople, —you understand-? that pect. " My secretary would have to make the creations of the pocket, being man's, himself master of the foreign policy of the might belong to one man, or one family; world, as it is mirrored in the newspapers; but that the creations of the brain, being to run his eye over all accounts of public God's, ought as a matter of course belong meetings, all leading articles, and accounts to the people at large-and if I was pleasof the proceedings of public bodies; and antly disposed, I should like to make ajoke to make notes of anything which it ap- about posterity, and say that those who peared to him might be made a point of, wrote for posterity, should be content to be in.any little speech upon the question of rewarded by the approbation of posterity; some petition lying on the table, or any- it might take with the house, and could thing of that kind. Do you understand?" never do me any harm, because posterity "I think I do, Sir," replied Nicholas. can't be expected to know anything about " Then," said Mr. Gregsbury, "it would me or my jokes either-don't you see?" be necessary for him to make himself ac- "I see that, Sir," replied Nicholas. quainted from day to day with newspaper "You must always bear in mind, in such paragraphs on passing events; such as cases as this, where our interests are not' Mysterious disappearance, and supposed affected," said Mr. Gregsbury, "to put it suicide of a pot-boy,' or anything of that very strong about the people, because it sort, upon which I might found a question comes out very well at election-time; and to the Secretary of State for the Home you could be as funny as you liked about Department. Then he would have to copy the authors; because I believe the greater the question, and as muwIh a. I remembered part of them live in lodgings, and are not of the answer (including a little compli- voters. This is a hasty outline of the chief ment about my independence and good things you'd have:to do, except waiting in sense;) and to send the manuscript in a the lobby every night, in:case I forgotanyfrank to the local paper, with perhaps half thing, and should w,&ant.fresh cramming: a dozen lines of leader, to the effect, that I and now and then, during:great deba,tS, was always to be found in my place in par- sitting in the front row of;the gallery, aad liamont, and never shrunk from the dis- saying;t the!~eQple ahboiut —' Youae..eAhat 106 WNICIIOLAS NiCKLEBY. gentleman, with his hand to his face> an l which the poor fellow had tssi3lously his arm twisted round the pillar —that's filled with the choicest m 5rsels untoucl)ed, Mr. Gregsbury-the celebrated Mr. Gregs- by his side, when Newman Noggs looked bury-'. with any other little eulogiumn that into the room. might strike you at the moment. And for' Come back?" asked Newman. salary," said Mr. Gregsbury, winding up " Yes," replied Nicholas, "tired to with great rapidity; for he was out of death; and what is worse, might have rebreath-"And for salary, I don't mind say- mained at honie for all the good I have ing at once, in round numbers, to plevent d:ne." any dissatisfaction-though it's more than " Couldn't expect to do much in one I've been accustomed to give-fifteen shil- morning," said Newman. lingo, a week, and find yourself. There." "Nay be so, but I am sanguine, and With this handsome offer M3r. Gregsbury did expect," said Nicholas, " and am preonce more threw lhimself back in his chair, portionably disappointed." Saying which, and looked like a man who has been most he gave Newman an account of his proprofligately liberal, but is determined not ce'edings. to repent it notwithstanding. " If' I could do anything," said Nicbo"Fifteen shillings a week is not much," las, " anything, however slight, until said Nicholas, mildly. Ralph Nickleby returns, and I have eased "Not much! Fifteen shillings a week my mind by confronting him, I should not much, young man?" cried Mr. Gregs- feel happier. I should.think it no disbury. " Fifteen shillings a " grace to work, Heaven knows. Lyingin"Pray do not suppose that I quarrel dolently here like a half-tamed sullen - with the sum," replied Nicholas; "for 1 beast distracts me." am not ashamed to confess, that whatever' I don't know," said Newman; "small it min be in itself, to me it is a great deal. things offer-they would pay the rent, and But the duties and responsibilities make more —but you wouldn't like them; no, the recompense small, and they are so very you could hardly be expected to undergo heavy that I fear to undertake them." it-no, no." "Do you decline to undertake them, "What could I hardly be expected to Sir?" inquired Mr. Gregsbury, with his undergo?" asked Nicholas, raising his hand on the bell-rope. eyes. " Show me, in this wide waste of " I fear they are too great for my pow- London, any honest means by which I ers, however good my will may be," replied could defray even the weekly hire of this Nicholas. poor room, and see if I shrink from re"That is as much as to say that you sorting to them. Undergo I I have underhad rather not accept the place, and that gone too much, my friend, to feel pride you consider fifteen shillings a week too or squeamishness now. Except-" added little," said Mr. Gregsbury, ringing. " Do Nicholasshastily, after a short silence, " exyou decline it, Sir?" cept such squeamishness as is common " I have no alternative but to do so," honesty, and so much pride as constitutes replied Nicholas. self-respect. I see little to choose, between "Door, Matthews," said Mr. Gregsbury, the assistant to a brutal pedagogue and as the boy appeared. the toad-eater of a mean and ignorant up. "I am sorry I have troubled you un- start, be he member or no membel." necessarily, Sir," said Nicholas. "I hardly know whether I should tell "I am sorry you have," rejoined Mr. you what I heard this morning or not," Gregsbury, turning his back upon him. said Newman. "Door, Matthews." "tHas it reference to what you said just "' Good morning," said Nicholas. now?" asked Nicholas. " Door, Matthews," cried Mr. Gregs- "It has." bury. "Then in Heaven's name, my good The boy beckoned Nicholas, and tum- friend, tell it me," said Nicholas. " Foi bling lazily down stairs before him, opened God's sake consider my deplorable condithe door and ushered him into the street. tion; and while I promise to take nc With a sad and pensive air he retraced his step without taking counsel with you, steps homewards. give me at least a vote in my own behalf." Smike had scraped a meal together from Moved by this entreaty, Newman stamthe remnant of last night's supper, and mered forth a variety of most unaccountwas anxiouslv awaiting his return. The able and entangled sentences, the upshot occurrences of the morning had not im- of which was, that Mrs. Kenw-igs had exproved Nicholas's appetite, and by him the almined him at great length that morning dinner remained untasted. le was sitting touching the origin of his acquaintance.n a thoughtful attitude, with the plate with, and the whole life, adventures, and NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 10O pedigree of Nicaolas; that Newman had tachios, and look fierce; and although mus. parried these questions as long as he could, tachios and ferocity are both very pretty but being atlenlth hard pressed and driven things in their way, and very much to be into a corner, had gone so far as to admit commended, we confess to a desire to see that Nicholas was a tutor of great accom- them bred at the owner's proper cost, rathei plishments, involved in some misfortunes than at the expense of low-spirited people. which he'was not at liberty to explain, and Nicholas, therefore, not being a highbearing the name of Johnson. That Mrs. spirited young man according to common Kenwigs, impelled by gratitude, or ambi- parlance, and deeming it a greater degratiton, or maternal pride, or maternal love, or dation to borrow, for the supply of his neall four powerful motives conjointly, had cessities, from Newman Noggs, than to taken secret conference with Mr. Kenwigs, teach French to the little Kenwigses for and finally ventured to propose that Mr. five shillings a week, accepted. the offer Johnson should instruct the four Miss Ken- with the alacrity already described,and bewigses in the French language as spoken took himself to the first floor with all conby natives, at the weekly stipend of five enient speed. shillings current coin of the realm, being HIere he was reeeived by Mrs. Kenwigs at the rate of one shilling per week for with a genteel air, kindly intended to assure each Miss Kenwigs, and one shilling over, him of her protection and support; and until such time as the baby might be able here too he found Mr. Lillyvick and Miss to take it out in grammar. Petowker: the fiur Miss Kenwigses on a "W lhich, unless I am very much mis- their form of audience, and the baby in a taken," observed Mrs. Kenwigs in making dwarf porter's chair with a deal tray before the proposition, "will not be very long; for it, amusing himself with a toy horse withsuch clever children, Mr. Noggfs, never out a head; the said horse being composed were born into this world I do. believe." of a small wooden cylinder supported an " There," said Newman, " that's all. four crooked pegs, not unlike an Italian It's beneath you, I know; but I thought iron, and painted in ingenious resemblance that perhaps you might-" of red wafers set in blacking. "Might!" said Nicholas, with great ala- "' ow do you do, Mr. Johnson?" said crity; "of course I shall. I accept the of- Mrs. Kenwigs. " Uncle —Mr. Jehnson." fer at once. Tell the worthy mother so "How do you do, Sir?" said Mr. Lillywithout delay, my dear fellow; and that I vick-rather sharply; for he had not known am ready to begin whenever she pleases." what Nicholas was, on the previous night, Newman hastened with joyful steps to and it was rather an aggravating; circum-. inform Mrs. Kenwigs of his friend's acqui- stance if a tax collector had been too polite escence, and soon returning, brought back to a teacher. word that they would be happy to see him "Mr. Johnson is engaged as private in the first floor as soon as convenient; that master to the children, uncle," said Mrs. Mrs. Kenwigs had upon the instant sent Kenwigs. out to secure a second-hand French gram- " So you said just now, my dear," remar and dialogues, which had long been plied Mr. Lillyvik. fluttering in the sixpenny box at the book- "But I hope," said Mrs. Kenwigs, drawstall round the corner; and that the family, ing herself up, " thatk that will not make highly excited at the prospect of this addi- them proud; but that they will bless their tion to their gentility, wished the initiatory own good fortune, which has born them sulesson to come off immediately. perior to common people's children. Do And here it may be observed that Ni- you hear, Morleena?" cholas was not, in the ordinary sense of the " Yes, ma," replied Miss Kenwigs, word, a young man of high spirit. IIe " And when you go )ut in the streets, or would resent an affront to himself, or inter- elsewhere, I desire that you don't boast of pose to redress a wrong offered to another, it to the other children," said Mrs. KNsne as boldly and freely as any knight that eveir wigs; "and that if you must say any thilng set lance in rest; but he lacked that pecu- about it, you don't say no more than'We've liar excess of coolness and great-minded got a private master comes to teach us at selfishness, which invariably distinguish home, but we ain't proud, because ma says gentlemen of high spirit. In truth, for our it's sinful.' Do you hear, Morleena?" own part, we are rather disposed to look " Yes, ma," replied Miss Kenwigs again. upon such gentlemen as being rather in- " Then mind you recollect, and do as J eurnbrances than otherwise in rising fami- tell you," said Mrs. Kenwigs. Shall Mr. lies, happening to be acquainted with seve- Johnson begin, uncle?" aiLw hose spirit prevents theirsettlingdown "I am ready to hear, if Mr. Johnson is te any grovelling occupation, and only dis- ready to commence, my dear," said the colplays itself in a tendency to cultivate mus- lector, assuming the air of a profound critic. N! NICHOLAS NLCKLEBY. "What sort of language do you consider Mr. Lillyvick was waxing so cross thai French, Sir?" Mrs. Kenwigs thought it expedient to mo" How do you mean?" asked Nicholas. tion to Nicholas not to say anything; and "Do you consider it a good language, it was not until Miss Petowker had pracSir?" said the collector; "a: pretty lan- tised several blandishments, to soften the guage, a sensible language?" excellent old gentleman that he deigned "A pretty language, certainly," replied to break silence, by asking, Nicholas: "'and as it has a name for " What's the water in French, Sir?" everything, and a.dmits of elegant con- " L'Eaut," replied Nicholas. oersation about everything, I presume it "Ah!" said Mr. Lillyvick, shaking his is a sensible one." head mournfully, "I thought as much. "I don't know," said Mr. Lillyvick, Lo, eh? I don't think anything of that doubtfully. " Do you call it a cheerful language-nothing at all." language, now?" "I suppose the children may begin, "Yes," replied Nicholas, " I should say uncle?" said Mrs. Kenwigs. it was. certainly." "Oh yes; they may begin, my dear,"'; t's very much changed since my time, replied the collector, discontentedly. "I then," said the collector; " very much." have no wish to prevent them." "Was it a dismal one in your time?" This permission being conceded, the four asked Nicholas, scarcely able to repress a Miss Kenwigses sat in a row, Wxith their smile. tails all one way, and Morleena at the top, " Very," replied Mr. Lillyvick, with while Nicholas, taking the book, began his some vehemence of manner. " It's the preliminary explanations. Miss Petowker war time I speak of; the last war. It may and Mrs. Kenwigs looked on, in silent adbe a cheerful language. I should be sorry miration, broken only by the whispered asto contradict anybody; but I can only say surances of the latter, that Morleena would that I've heard the French prisoners, who have it all by heart in no time; and Mr. were natives, and ought to know how to Lillyvick regarded the group with frownspeak it, talking in such a dismal manner, ing and- attentive eyes, lying in wait for that itmadeone miserable to hear them. Ay, something upon which he could open a that I have fifty times,. Sir-fifty times." fresh discussion on the language. CHAPTER XVII. FOLLOWS THE FORTUNES OF MISS NICKLEBY. It was with a heavy heart, and many but too clear an evidence that her misgivsad forebodings which no effort could ban- ings were not wholly groundless. ish, that Kate Nickleby, on the morning She arrived at Madame Mantalini's appointed for the commencement of her some minutes before the appointed hour, engagement with Madame Mantalini, left and after walking a few times up and the city when its clocks yet wanted a quar- down, in the hope that some other fenmale ter of an hour of eight, and threaded her might arrive and spare her the embarrassway alone, amid the noise and bustle of ment of stating her business to the sr'vant, the streets, towards the west end of Lon- knocked timidly at the door, which after don. some delay was opened by the footman. At this early hour many sickly girls, who had been putting on his striped jacket whose business, like that of the poor worm, as he came up stairs, and was~ now intent is to produce with patient toil the inery on fastening his apron. that bedecks the thoughtless and lux- "Is Madame Mantalini in?" faltered arious; traverse our streets, making to- Kate. watrds the scene of their daily labour, and' " Not often out at this time, Miss," recatching, as if by stealth, in their hurried plied the man, in a tone which rendered walk, the orily gasp of wholesome air and "Miss," something more offensive than glimpse of sunlight which cheers-their mo- "My dear." notonous existence during the long train "Can I see her?" asked Kate. of hours that make a working day. As she "Eh?" replied the man, holding the door drew nigh to the more fashionable quarter in his hand, and honouring the inquirer of the town, Kate marked many of this with a stare and a broad grin. "Lord, no:' class as they passed ly, hurrying like her- " I came by her owln appointment," said Shelf to their painful occupation, and saw, Kate; "I am-I am-to be employed in their unhealthy looks and feeble gait, a here." NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 109 "Oh' you should have rung the work- " It's verv easy to talk," said Mrs. ers' bell," said the footman, touchin(g the Mantalini. handle of one in the door-post. " Let me " Not so easy when one is eating a see, though, I forgot-Miss Nickleby, is demnition egg,"; replied Mr. Mantalini; it? " "for the yolk runs down the waistcoat, Y Tes," replied Kate. and yolk of eggr does not match any waist"You're to walk up stairs, then, please," coat but a yellow waistcoat, demmit." said the man. " Madame Mantalini wants "You were flirting with her during the to see you-this way —take care of these whole night," said Madame Mantalini, apthingFs on the floor." parently desirous to lead the conversation Cautioning her in these terms not to trip back to the point fiom which it had over a heterogeneous litter of pastry-cook's strayed. trays, lamps, waiters full of glasses, and "Na, no, my life." piles of rout seats which were strewn about "You were," said Madame; "I had the hall, plainly bespeaking a late party on my eye upon you all the time." the previous night, the man led the way to "Bless the little winking twinkling eye, the second, story, and ushered Kate into a was it on me all the time!" cried Manback room,communicatingby folding-doors talini, in a sort of lazy rapture. " Oh, with the apartment in which she had first demmit!" seen the mistress of the establishment. " And I say once more," resumed Ma" If you'll wait here a minute," said the dame, " that you ought not to waltz with man, "I'll tell her presently." iaving anybody but vour own wife; and I will not made this promise with much affability, bear it, Mantalini, if I take poison first." he retired and left Kate alone. " She will not take poison and have horThere was not much to amuse in the rid pains, will she?" said Mantalini; who, room; of which the most attractive feature by the altered sound of his voice, seemed was, a half-length portrait in oil of Mr. to have moved his chair and taken up his Mantalini, whom the artist had depicted position nearer to his wife. " She will not scratching his head in in easy manner, take poison, because she has a demd fine and thus displaying to advantage a dia- husband who might have married two mnond ring, the gift of Madame Mantalini countesses and a dowager " before her marriage. There was, how- "Two countesses," interposed Madame. ever, the sound of voices in conversation " You told me one before!" in the next room; and as the conversation " Two!" cried Mantalini. " Two demd was loud and the partition thin, Kate could fine women, real countesses and splendid not help discovering that they belonged fortunes, demmit." to Mr. and Mrs. Mantalini. "And why didn't you?" asked Ma"If you will be odiously, demnebly, dame, playfully. outrigeously jealous, my soul," said Mr. " Why didn't I?" replied her husband. Mantalini," you will be very miserable- "Had I not seen at a morning concert the horrid Aiserable-demnition miserable." deindest little fascinator in all the world, And thetl thllere came a sound as though and while that little fascinator is my Mr. Mantalini was sipping his coffee. wife, may not all the countesses and dow-' I am miserable," returned Madame a|ers in England be -" Mantalini, evidently pouting. Mr. Mantalini did not finish the sen"Then you are an ungrateful, unwor- tence, but he gave Madame Mantalini a thy, demd unthankful little fairy," said very loud kiss, which Madame Mantalini Mr. Mantalini. returned; after which there seemed to be "I am not," returned Madame, with a some more kissing mixed up with the sob. progress of the breakfast. " Do not put itself out of humour," "And what about the cash, my existsaid Mr. Mantalini, breaking an egg. " It ence's jewel?" said Mantalini, when these is a pretty bewitching little demd counte- endearments ceased. " Iow much have nance, and it should not be out of humour, we in hand?" for it spoils its loveliness, and makes it'- Very little indeed," replied Madame. cross and gloomy like a frightful, naughty, "We must have some more," said Man. demd hobgoblin." talini; " we must have s me discount out " I am not to be brought round in that of old Nickleby to carry on the war with, way, always," rejoined Madame, sulkily. demmit." "It shall be brought round in any way " You can't want any more just now," it likes best, and not brought round at all said Madame coaxingly. if it likes that better," retorted Mr. Man- "My life and soul," returned her hust talini, with his egg-spoon in his -mouth. band, "there is a horse for sale at Scrubb's 1 0 NIC [IO LAS NICKLEBY' which it would be a sin. and crime to lose employed in sewing, cutting out, making -going, my senses' joy, for nothing." up, altering, and various other processes "For nothing," cried Madame,' I am known only to those who are cunning in glad of that." the arts of millinery and dress-making. " For actually nothing," replied Manta- It was a close room with a sky-light, and lini. "A hundred guineas down will buy as dull and quiet as a room could be. him; mane, and crest, and legs, and tail, On Madame Mantalini calling aloud f,:r all of the demdestbeauty. I will ride him Miss Knag, a short, bustling, over-dresstd in the park before the very chariots of the female. full of importance, presented her. rejected countesses. The demd old dowa- self, and all the young ladies suspending ger will faint with grief and rage; the Atheiroperations for the moment, whispered other two will say,' Ie is married, he has to each other sundry criticisms upon tt;he made way with himself, it is a demd make and texture of AMiss Nickleby's dress, thing, it is all up.' They will hate each her complexion, cast of features, and per(other demnebly, and wish you dead and sonalappearance,with as mulch good-breedburied. Ia! ha! Demmit." ing as could have been displayed by the Maldame Mantalini's prudence, if she very best society in a crowded ball-roonm. had any, was not proof against these tri- "Oh, Miss Knag," said Madame Manumphal pictures; after a little jingling of talini, " this is the young person I spoke keys, she observed that she would see to you about." what her desk contained, and rising for Miss Knag bestowed a reverential smile that purpose, opened the folding-door, and upon Madame Mantalini, which she dexwalked into the room where Kate was terously transformed into a gracious one seated. for Kate, and said that certainly, although " Dear me, child!" exclaimed Madame it was a great deal of trouble, to hiatve AMantalini, recoiling in surprise. " How young people, who were wholly unused to came you here?" business; still she was sure the young per"Child!" cried Mantalini, hurrying in. son would try to do her best-impressed "How came it-eh! —oh —demmit, how with which convicton she (Miss Knagr) d'ye do?" felt an interest in her already.' I have been waiting here some time, "I think that for the present at all ma'am," said Kate, addressing Madame events, it will be better for Miss Nickleby Mantalini. " The man must have fo)rgotten to come into the show-room with you, and to let you know that I was here, I think." try things on for people," said Madame "You really must see to that man," Mantalini. " She will not be able for the,aid Madame, turning to her husband. present to be of much use in any other "He forgets everything." way; and her appearance will-" " I will twist his demd nose off his coun- "Suit very well with mine. Madame tenance for leaving such a very pretty Mantalini," interrupted Miss Knag. " So.reature all alone by herself," said her it will; and to be sure I might have known husband. that you would not be long in finding) that "Mantalini," cried Madame, " you for- out; for you have sc much taste in all those get yourself." matters, that really, as I often say to the "I don't forget you, my soul. and never young ladies, I do not know how, when, or shall, and never can," said, Mantalini, kiss- where, you possibly could have acquired all ing his wife's hand, and grimacing, aside, you know —hem —Miss Nickleby and I are to Miss Nickleby, who turned contemptu- quite a pair, Madame Mantalini, only I aml ously away. a little darker than Miss NicklebyL andAppeased by this compliment, the lady hem-I think my foot may be a little of the business took some papers from her smaller. Miss ~Nickleby, I am sure, will desk, which she handed over to Mr. Man- not be offended at my saying that, wNhen talini, who received them with great de- she hears that our family always have been light. She then requested Kate to follow celebrated for small feet ever since-f-eu her, and after several feints on the part of -ever since our family had any feet at Mr. Mantalini to attract the young lady's all, indeed, I think. I had an uncle once, attention, they went away, leaving that Madame Mantalini, who lived in Cheltengentleman extended at full length on the ham, and had a most excellent business as sofa, with his heels in the air and a news- a tobacconist —hem —who had such small paper in his hand. feet, that they were no bigger than those Madame Mantalini led the way down a which are usually joined to wooden leg.ps Right of stairs, and through a passage, to a — the most symmetrical feet, Madanme large room at the back of the premises, Martalini, that even you can imagni.ne." where were a nun ber of yo:ng women I "They must have had something tile ap NiClCI01:,S NICKLTEBY. 111 rearance of club feet, -Miss Knag," said "Isn't he a charming creature?" Madame. " Indeed he does not strike me as boing " Well ne w, that is so like you," return- so, by any means," replied Kate. ed Miss Knag. " Ia! ha! ha! Of club " No, my dear!" cried Miss Knag, elefeet! Oh very good' As I often remark vating her hands. " Why, goodness grato the young ladies,' Well I must say, and cious mercy, where's your taste? Such a I do not care who knows it, of all the ready fine tall, full-whiskered, dashing, gellechumrnour-hem-I ever heard anywhere' — manly man, with such teeth and hair,;nil and I have heard a good deal; for when -hem — well now, you do astonish me.' my dear brother was alive (I kept a house "I dare say I amn very foolish," replied for him, Miss Nickleby), we had to supper Kate, laying aside her bonnet; " but asonee a week two or three young men, my opinion is of very little importance to highly celebrated in those days for their him or any one else, I do not regret hunmour, Madame Mantalini-' Of all the having formed it. and shall be ~low to ready hulmour,' I say to the young ladies, change it, I think."' I ever heard, Madame Mantalini's is the "I-e is a very fine man, don't you most remnarkaLle-hem. It is so gentle, so think so?" asked one of the young ladies. sarcastic, and yet so good-natured (as I "Indeed he may be, for anything I -was observing to Miss Simmonds only this could say to the contrary," replied Kate. mnorning), that how, or when, or by what "And drives very beautiful horses, melans she acquired it, is to me a mystery doesn't he?" inquired another. indeed.'" " I dare say he may, but I never saw Htere Miss Knag paused to take breath, them," answered Kate. n-d while she pauses, it may be observed " Never saw them?" interposed Miss -not that she was marvellously loquacious Knag. " Oh, well, there it is at once you and marvellously deferential to Madame know; how can you possibly pronounce an Mant:alini, since these are facts which re- tpinion about a gentleman —hem-if you quireo no comment; but that every now and don't see him as he turns out altogether?" then she was accustomed, in the torrent of -There was so much of the world-even her discourse, to introduce a loud, shrill, of the little world of the country girl-in clear " hemr!" the import and meaning of this idea of the old milliner, that Kate, which was variously interpreted by her ac- who was anxions for every reason to change quaintance; some holding that Miss Knag the subject, made no further remark, and dealt in exaggeration, and introduced the left Miss Knag in possession of the field. monosyllable, when any fresh invention After a short silence, during which most was in course of coinage in her brain; and of the young people made a closer inspeeothers, that when she wanted a word, she tion of' Kate's appearance, and compared threw it in to gain time, and prevent any- notes, respecting it, one of them offered to body else from striking into the conversa- help her off with her shawl, and the offer;ionr. It may be further remarked, that being accepted, inquired whether she did X.iss Knag still aimed at youth, though not find black very uncomfortable wear.,she had shot beyond it years ago; and "I do indeed," replied Kate, with a that she was weak and vain, and one of bitter sigh. those people who are best described by "So dusty and hot," observed the same the axiom, that you may trust them as far speaker, adjusting her dress for her. as y{ou can see them, and no farther. Kate might have said,that mourning was " You'll take care that Miss Nickleby the coldest wear which mortals can asunderstands her hours, and so forth," said sume; that it not only chills the breasts Madame Mantalini; "and so I'll leave her of those it clothes, but extending its influFwith you. You'll not forget my directions, ence to summer friends, freezes up their Mliss hK nat?" sources of good-will and kindness, and Miis Knag of course replied, that to for- withering all the buds of promise they get anything Mamdam e Mantalini had di- once so liberally put forth, leaves nothing rected,was a moral impossibility; and that but bared and rotten hearts exposed. There lady, dispensing a general good morning are few who have lost a friend or relative among her assistants, sailed away. constituting in life their sole dependence, Charming creature, isn't she, Miss who have not keenly felt this chilling inNickleby?" said Miss Knag, rubbing her fluence of their sable garb. She had felt lands t(gether. it acutely, and feeling it at the moment, " I have seen very little of her," said could not restain her tears. Kate. " I lhardly know yet." " I am very sorry to have wounded you "1Iave you seen Mr. Mantalini?" in- by my thoughtless speech," said her comluirtd Mliss Knag. panion. " I did not think of it. You arm'Yes; I have seen hitm twice.'? in mourning for some near relation." 112 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. "For my father," answered K:tte, nothing right; they wondered how Ma. weeping, dame Mantalini coul I'have such people "For what relation, Miss Simmonds?" about her: requested they might see some asked Miss Knag in an audible voice. other young woman the next tiiife they "l Her father," replied the other, softly. came, and so forth. " Ier father, eh?" said Miss Knag, with- So common an occurence would be hard — out the slightest depression of her voice. ly deserving of mention, but for its effect. "Ah! A long illness, Miss Simmonds?" Kate shed many bitter tears when these "' ush-pray," replied the girl; "I people were gone, and felt, for the first don't know." time,humbled by her occupation. She had, "Ourmisfortune wasverysudden," said it is true, quailed at the pirospect of Kate, turning away, "or I might perhaps, drudgery and hard service; but she had at a time like this, be. enabled to support felt no degradation in working for her it better." bread, until she found herself exposed to There had existed not a little desire in insolence and the coarsest pride. Philoso the room, according to invariable custom phy would have taught her that the degra when any new "young person" came, to dation was on the side of those who had know who Kate was, and all about her; sunk so low as to display such passions but although it might have been very na- habitually, and without cause; but she was tirally incieased by her appearance and too young for such consolation, and her emotion, the knowledge that itpained her honest feelingr was hurt. May not the to be questioned, was sufficient to repress complaint, that common people are above even this curiosity, and Miss Knag, find- their station, often take its rise in the fact ing it hopeless to attempt extracting any of uncommnon people being below theirs? further particulars just then, reluctantly In such scenes and occupations the time commanded silence, and bade the work wore on until nine o'clock, when Kate, proceed. jaded and dispirited with the occurrences In silence, then, the tasks were plied of the day, hastened from the confinement until half-past one, when a baked leg of of the work-room, to join her mother at the mutton, with potatoes to correspond, were. street corner, and walk home: the more served in the kitchern The nmeal over, and sadly, from having to disguise her real feelthe young ladies having enjoyed the ad- ings, and feign to participate in all the ditional relaxation of washing their hands, sanguine visions of her companion. the work began again, and was again per- "Bless my soul, Kate," said Mrs. Nic. formed in silence, until the noise of car- kleby; " I've been thinking all day, what riages rattling through the streets, and of a delightful thing it would be for Madame loud double knocks at doors, gave token Mantalini to take you into partnershipthat the day's work of the more fortunate such a likely thing too, you know. Why members of society was proceeding in its your poor dear papa's cousin's sister-in-law turn. -a Miss Browndock-was taken into partOne of these double knocks at Madame nership by a lady that kept a school at Mantalini's door announced the equipage IIammersmith, and made her fortune in no of some great lady-or rather rich one, for time at all; I forget, by the bye, whether there is occasionally a wide distinction be- that Miss Browndock was the same lady tween riches and g,'eatness-whohadcomne that got the ten thousand pounds prize in with her daughlter to approve of some court- the lottery, but I think she was; indeed, dresses which had been a long time pre- now I come to think of it, I am sure she paring, and upon whom Kate was deputed was.'Mantalini and Nickleby,' how well to wait, accompanied by Miss Knag, and it would sound!-and if Nicholas has any cfficeAred of course by Madalme Mantalini. good fortune, you might have Doctor NicKate's part in the pageant was Ilumble kleby, the head master of Westminster enough, her duties being limited to holding School, living in the same street." articles of costume until Miss Knag was "Dear Nicholas I" cried Kate, taking readly to try them on, and new and then from her reticule her brother's letter fromn tying a string or fastening a hook-and-eye. Dotheboys Htall. " In all our misf3irtunes, She might, not unreasonably, have sup- how happy it makes me, mamma, to hear posed herself beneath the reach of any lihe is doing well, and to find him writing arrogance, orbad humour; but it happened in such good spirits! It consoles me for tihat the rich lady and the rich daughter all we may undergo, to think that he is were both out of temper that day, and the comfortable and happy." poor girl came in for her share of their re- Poor Kate! she little thought how rilings. She was awkward-her hands weak her consolation was, and how so a were cold-dirty —coarse —she could do she would be unrieceived. NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 118 CHAPTER XVIII. ITSS KNAG, AFTER DOATING ON KATE NICKLEBY FOR THI[ EE WHIIOLE DAYS, MAKES UP tlER MIND TO HATE HER FOR EVERMORE. T.JE CAUSES WClliH LEAD MISS KNAG TO FORM THIS RESOLUTION. THERE are many lives of much pain, very extraordinary credit even to your dishardship, and suffering, which, having nc crimination that you should have found stirring interest for any but those who lead such a very excellent, very well-behaved, them, are disregarded by persons who do very-hem-very unassuming young wonot want thought or feeling, but who pam- man to assist in the fitting on. I have seen per their compassion, and need high some young women when they had the op stimulants to rouse it. portunity of displaying before their betThere are not a few among the disciples ters, behave in such a —oh, dear —wellof charity who require in their vocation but you're always right, Madame Marlantalscarcely less excitement than the votaries ini, ald'ays; and as.1 very often tell the of pleasure in theirs; and hence it is that young ladies, how you do contrive to be diseased sympathy and compassion are always right, when so many people are so every day expended on out-of-the-way ob- often wrong, is to me a mystery indeed." jects, when only too many demands upon' Beyond putting a very excellenit client the legitimate exercise of the same virtues out of humour, Ml1iss Nickleby has not in a healthy state, are constantly within done anything very remarkable to-daythe sight and hearing of the most unob- that I ami aware of; at least," said lMadame servant person alive. In short, charity Mantalini in reply. must have its romance, as the novelist or " Oh, dear!" said Miss Knag; "but playwright must have his. A thief in you must allow a great deal for inexperifustian is a vulgar character, scarcely to ence, you know." be thought of by persons of refinement; " And youth?" inquired Madame. but dress him in green velvet, with a high- " Oh, I say nothing about that, MiIadame crowned hat, and change the scene of his Mantalini," replied Miss Knag, reddenoperations from a thickly-peopled city to a ing; "because if youth w. ere any excuse, mountain road, and you shall find in him you wouldn't have — " the very soul of poetry and adventure. So " Quite so good a forewoman as I have, it is with the one great cardinal virtue, I suppose," suggested Madame. whbih, properly nourished and exercised, "Well, I never did know anybody like leads to, if it does not necessarily include, you, Madame Mantalini," rejoined Miss all the others. It must have its romance; Knag most complacently, "' and that's the and the less of real hard struggling work- fact, for you know what one's going to a-day life there is in that romance, the say, before it has time to rise to one's lips. better. Oh, very good! IIa, ha, ha!" The life to which poor Kate Nickleby " For myself," observed Madame Manwas devoted, in consequence of the unfore- talini, glancing with affected carelessness seen train of circumstances already de- at her assistant, and laughing heartily in veloped in this narrative, Was a hard one; her sleeve, ".I consider Miss Nickleby the but lest the very dullnesB, unhealthy con- most awkward girl I ever saw in my life." finement, and bodily fatigue, which made "Poor dear thing," said Miss Knag, up its sum and substance, should deprive " it's not her fault. If it was, we might it of any interest with the mass of the hope to cure it; but cs it's her misfortune, charitable and sympathetic, I would rath- Madame Mantalini, why really you know, er keep Miss Nickleby herself in view as the man said about the blind horse, we just now, than chill them in the outset by ought to respect it.",a minute and lengthened description of tthe " Her uncle told me she had'teen 3onest'abhishment presided over by Madame sidered pretty," remarked Madamne lManMantalini. talini. "I think her one of the most or"Well,now indeed,MadameMantalini," dinary girls I ever met with." said Miss Knag, as Kate was taking her " Ordinary 1" cried Miss Knag with a weary way homewards on the first night countenance beaming delight; "and awkof her novitciate, " that Miss Nickleby is ward! W6ell, all I can say is, Madamns a very creditable young person-a very Mantalini, that I quite lve the poor girl, creditable young person indeed-hem- and that if she was twice as indifferent anon my word, Madame Mantalini, it does looking, and twice as awkward as she is, I 114- NICHOLAS NICKIEBY. Should 1x -ily so much the more her should know it at first, and so be aI le to go riend, and that s the truth of it." on straight and comfortable. Which way In fiact, Miss Knag had conceived an in- are you walking, my love?" Aipient affection for Kate Nickleby, after " Towards the city," replied Kate. witnessing her failure that morning, and " The city!" cried Miss Knag, regarding this short conversation with her superior herself with great c:vour in the glass as increased the favourable prepossession to she tied her bonnet. " Goodness gracious a most surprising extent; which was the me! now do you really live in the city?" more remarkable, as when she first scan- "Is it so very unusual for anybody to tied that young lady's face and figure, she live there?" asked Kate, half-smiling. l Lad entertained certain inward misgivings " I couldn't have believed it possible t hat that they would never agree. any young woman could have lived there " But now," said Miss Knag, glancing under any circumstances whatever, for at the reflection of herself in a mirror at three days together," replied Miss Knag. no great distance, " I love her-I quite " Reduced —I should say poor people," love her-I declare I do." answered Kate, correcting herself hastily, Of such a highly disinterested quality for she was afraid of appearing proud, was this devoted friendship, and so superior " must live where they can." was it to the little weaknesses of flattery or "Ah! very true, so they must; very ill-nature, that the kind-hearted Miss Knag proper indeed!" rejoined Miss Knag with candidly informed Kate Nickleby next that sort of half sigh, which accompanied day, that she saw she would never do for by two or three slight nods of the head, is the bIusiness, but that she need not give pity's small change in general society' herself the slightest uneasiness on this ac- "and that's what I very often tell my bro count, for that she (Miss Knag) by increas- ther, when our servants go away ill one ed exertions on her own part, would keep after another. and he thinks the back kitchher as much as possible in the back- en's rather too damp for'em to sleep in. ground, and that all she would have to do These sort of people, I tell him, are glad would be to remain perfectly quiet before to sleep anywhere i IIeaven suits the baAk company, and to shrink from attracting no- to the burden. What a nice thing it is to tice by every means in her power. This think that it should be so, isn't it?" last suggestion was so much in accordance " Very," replied Kate, turning away. with the timid girl's own feelings and "P'll walk with you part of the way, mny wishes, that she readily promised implicit dear," said Miss Knag, " for you must go reliance on the excellent spinster's advice; very near our house; and as it's quite dark, Without questioning, or indeed bestowing and our last servant went to the hospital a moment's reflection upon the motives a week ago, with Saint Anthony's fire in that dictated it. her face, I shall be glad of your company." " I take quite a lively interest in you, Kate would willingly have excused hermy dear soul, upon my word," said Miss self from this flattering companionship, Knag; " a sister's interest, actually. It's but Miss Knag having adjusted her bonnet;the most singular circumstance I ever to her entire satisfaction, took her arm knew." with an air which plainly showed how Undoubtedly it was singular, thatif Miss much she felt the compliment she was conKnag did feel a strong interest in Kate ferring, and they were in the street before Nickleby, it should not rather have been she could say another word. the interest of a maiden, aunt or grand- " I fear," said Kate, hesitatingly, " that mnother, that being the conclusion to which mamma-my mother, I mean-is waiting the difference in their respective ages for me." would have naturally tended. But Miss "You needn't make the least.apology, Kriag wore clothes of a very youthful pat- my dear," said Miss Knag, smiling sweetly tern, and perhaps her feelings took the as she spoke; "I dare say she is a very same shape. respectable old person, and I shall be quite " Bless you!" said Miss Knag, bestow- -hem-quite pleased to know her." ing a kiss upon Kate at the conclusion of, As poor Mrs. Nickleby was cooling-not the sscond day's work, " how very awk- her heels alone,-but her limbs generally, ward you have been all day!" at the street corner, Kate had no alterna" I fear your kind and open communi- tive but to make her known to bliss Knag, cation, which has rendered me more pain- who, doing the last new carriage customer fullv ohnscious of my own defects, has at second-hand, acknowledged the intronot inpr,)ved me," sighed Kate. duction with condescending politeness. "No, no, I dare say not," rejoined Miss The three then walked away arm in arm, Knag, in a most uncommon flow of good with Miss Knag in the middle, in a special humoul. "But how much better that vou state of amiability. NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. Il1 "I have taken such a fancy to your kept the Old Boar it. the village; 1v, the daughter, Mrs. Nickleby, you can't think," by, I don't remember whetlier it wa s the said Miss Knag, after she had proceeded a Old Boar or the George the Fourth, hut it little distance in dignified silence. was one of tje two, I know, and it's much "I am delighted to hear it," said Mrs. the same-that Mr. Watkins said, when Nickleby; "though it is nothing new to you were only two years and aa hall old. me, that even strangers should like Kate." that you were one of the most astonishing "t1Hem!" cried Miss Knag. children he ever saw. lie (lid, indeed, Mliss "You will like her better when you Knag, and he wasn't at all fond ofchildren, know how good she is," said Mrs. Nickle- and couldn't have had the slightest motive by. " It is a great blessing to nle in my for doing it. I know it was he who said so, misfortunes to have a child who knows nei- because I recollect, as well as if it was only ther pride or vanity, and whose bringing-up yesterday, his borrowing twenty pounds of might very well have excused a little of her poor dear papa the very moment after. both a+, fdt. You don't know whatit is to wards." lose a husband, Miss Knag." Having quoted this extraordinary and As Miss Knag had never -ve known what most disinterested testimony to her daughit was to gain one, it followed very nearly ter's excellence, Mrs. Nickleby stopped to as a Lmatatter of course that she didn't know breathe; and Miss KIlag, finding that the what it was to lose one, so she said in some discourse was turning upon family greathaste, " No, indeed, I don't," and said it ness, lost no time in st:'iking in with a small with an air intended to signify that she reminiscence on her o'sn account. should like to catch herself maLrrying any- "Don't talkoflendingimoney, Mrs. Nick. body-no, no, she knew better than that. leby," said Miss Knag, o"or you'll drive me " Kate has improved even in this little crazy, perfectly crazy. My13 mamma —hem time, I have no doubt," said Mrs. Nickleby, -was the most lovely and beautiful crea. glancing proudly at her d:ughter. ture, with the most strikingand exquisite"Oh! of course," said Miss Knag. hem-the most exquisite nose that ever " And will improve still more," added was put upon a human face, I do believe, Mrs. Nkckieby. IMrs. Nickleby (here Miss Knag rubbed her " That she will, I'll be bound," replied own nose sympathetically) the most deMiss Knag, squeezing Kate's arm in her lightful and accomplished woman, perhaps, own, to point the joke. that ever was seen; but she had that one " She always was clever," said poor Mrs. failing of lending money, and carried it to Nicklely, brightening up, "always, from a such an extent that she lent-hem-oh 1 baby. I recollect when she was only two thousands of pounds, all our little fortunes, years and a half old, that a gentleman who and what's more, Mirs. Nickleby, I don't used to visit very much at our house —Mr. think, if we were to live till-till —hemWatkins, you know, Kate, my dear, that till the very end of time, that we should your poor papa went bail for, who after- ever get them back again. I don't indeed." wards ran away to the United States, and After concluding this effort of invention sent us a pair of snow shoes, with such an without being interrupted, Miss Knag fell affectionate letter that it made your poor into many more recollections, no less interdear father cry for a week. You remem- esting than true, the full tide of which Mrs. ber the letter, in which he said that he was Nickleby in vain attempting to stem, at very sorry he couldn't repay the fifty length sailed smoothly down, by adding an pounds just then, because his capital was under-current of her own recollections; all out at interest, and he was very busy and so both ladies went on talking together making his fortune, but that he didn't for- in perfect contentment: the only difference get you were his god daughter, and he between them being, that whereas Miss should take it very unkind if we didn't buy Knag addressed herself to Kate, and talked you a silver coral and put it down to his very loud, Mrs. Nickieby kept on in one.td account-dear me, yes, my dear, how unbroken monotonous flow, perfectly satisutupid you are i and spoke so affectionately fled to be talking, and caring very little of the old port wine that he used to drink whether anybody listened or not. a bottle and a half of every time he came. In this manner they walked on very You must remember, Kate?" amicably until they arrived at Miss Knag's "Yes, yes, mamma; what of him?" brother's, who was an ornamental stationer "Why, that Mr. Watkins, my dear," and small circulating library keeper, in a said Mrs. Nickleby slowly, as if she were by-street off Tottenham Court Road, and making a tremendous effort to recollect who let out by the day, week, month, or something of paramount importance, "that year, the newest old novels, whereof the Mr. Watkins-he wasn't any relation, Miss titles were displayed in pen-and-ink characKnag will understand, to the Watkins who tere on a sheet of pasteboard, swinging at t1>-1; NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. hiNs door-post. As MIiss Knag happened " Because there ain't no coals left out, at the moment to be in the middle of an and if I could make coals I would, but as account of her twenty-second offer from a I can't I won't, and so I make hold to tell gentleman of large property, she insisted you, Mem," replied Mrs. Blockson. upon their all going in to supper-together; "Will you hold your tongue-female V" and in they went. said Mr. Mortimer Knag, plunging vie" Don't go away, Mortimer," said Miss lently into this dialogue. Knag, as they entered the shop. "It's " By your leave, Mr. Knag," retorted only one of our young ladies and her mo- the char-woman, turning sharp round. ther. Mrs. and Miss Nickleby." "I'm only too glad not to speak in this " Oh, indeed!" said Mr. Mortimer Knag. house, excepting when and where I'm "Ah!" spoke to, Sir; and with regard to being it Having given utterance to these ejacu- female, Sir, I should wish to knew what lations with a very profound and thought- you considered yourself?" fial air, Mr. Knag slowly snuffed two "A miserable wretch," exclaimed Mr. kitchen candles on the counter and two Knag, striking his forehead. " A misermore in the window, and then snuffed able wretch." himself from a box in his waistcoat pocket. " I'm very glad to find that you don't There was something very impressive call yourself out of your name, Sir," said in the ghostly air with which all this was Mrs. Blockson; "and as I had two twin done, and as Mr. Knag was a tall lank children the day before yesterday was only Gentleman of solemn features, wearing seven weeks, and my little Charley fell spectacles, and garnished with much less down a airy and put his elber out last hair than a gentleman bordering on forty Monday, I shall take it as a favior if you'll or thereabouts usually boasts, Mrs, Nickle- send nine shillings for one week's work to by whispered her daughter that she my house, afore the clock strikes ten tothought he must be literary. morrow." "Past ten," said Mr. Knag, consulting With these parting words, the good wohis watch. "Thomas, close the warehouse." man quitted the room with great ease of Thomas was a boy nearly half as tall as manner, leaving the door wide open, while a shutter, and the warehouse was a shop Mr. Knag, at the same moment, flung about the size of three hackney-coaches. himself into the " warehouse," and groaned "Ali!" said Mr. Knag, once more, heav- aloud. ing a deep sigh as he restored to its parent " What is the matter with that gentleshelf the book he had been reading. "Well man, pray?" inquired Mrs. Nickleby, -yea-I believe supper is ready, sister." greatly disturbed by the sound. With another sigh Mr. Knag took up "Is he ill " inquired Kate, really the kitchen candles from the counter, and alarmed. preceded the ladies with mournful steps "lush I" replied Miss Knag; "a most to a backparlour, where a char-woman, em- melancholy history. IHe was once most ployed in the absence of the sick servant, devotedly attached to-hem —to Madame and remunerated with certain eighteen- Mantalini." pences, to be deducted from her wages "Bless me!" exclaimed Mrs. Nickleby. due, was putting the supper out. "Yes," continued Miss Knag; "and "' Mrs. Blockson," said Miss Knag, re- received great encouragement, too, and proachfully, "how very often I have confidently hoped to marry her. Ile has a begged you not to come into the room most romantic heart, Mrs. Nickleby, as with your bonnet on!" indeed-hem-as indeed all our family ";'I can't help it, Miss Knag," said the have, and the disappointment was a dreadchar-woman. bridling up on the shortest ful blow. He is a wonderfully acconanotice. "There's been a deal o' cleaning plished man-most extraordinarily acto do in this house, and if you don't like it, complished —reads - hem —reads every [ must trouble you to look out for somebody novel that comes out; I mean every novel else, for it don't hardly pay me, and that's that-hem —that has any fashion in it, cf the truth, if I was to be hung this minute." course. The fact is, that he did find so "I don't want any remarks, if you much in the books he read applicable to please," said Miss Knag, with a strong his own misfortunes, and did find himself emphasis on the personal pronoun. " Is in every respect so much like the heroesthere any fire down stairs for some hot because of course he is conscious of his water presently?" own superiority, as we all are, and "No, there is not indeed, Miss Knag," very naturally-that he took to scorning replied the substitute; "and so I won't everything, and became a genius; and I'ell you no stories about it." am quite sure that he is at this very preo " rhen why isn't there I" said Miss Knag sent moment writing another book." NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 117 " A nother book!" repeated Kate, find- show-room in a charming state of palpitaing that a pause was left for somebody to tion, intended to demonstrate her enthusay something. siasm in the cause. The bonnets were no "Yes," said Miss Knag, nodding in sooner fairly on, than Miss Knag and great triumph; "another book, in three Madame Mantalini fell into convulsic~ns volumes post octavo. Of course it's a of admiration. great advantage to him in all his little "A most elegant appearance," said MsEashionable descriptions to have the bene- dame Mantalini. fit of my-hem-of my experience, be- " I never saw anything so exquisite in.;11lse of course few authors' who write all my life," said Miss Knag. about such things can have such opportu- Now the old lord, who was a very Jld nities of knowing them as I have. He's lord,said nothing, but mumbled and chAut l eo wrapped up in high life, that the least led, in a state of great delight, no less with allusion to business or worldly matters- the nuptial bonnets and their wearers, than like that woman just now for instance- with his own address in getting such a fine quite distracts him; but as I often say, I woman for his wife; and the young lady, think his disappointment a great thing for who was a very lively young lady, seeing him, because if he hadn't been disap- the old lord in this rapturous condition, pointed he couldn't have written about chased the old lord behind a cheval-glass, blighted hopes and all that; and the fact and then and there kissed him, while Mais if it hadn't happened as it has, I don't dame Mantalini and the other young lady believe his genius would ever have come looked discreetly another way. jut at all." But pending the salutation, Miss Knag, I-ow much more communicative Miss who was tinged with curiosity, stepped Knag might have become under more fa- accidentally behind the glass, and encounvourable circumstances it is impossible to tered the lively young lady's eye just at the divine, but as the gloomy one was within very moment when she kissed the old lord; ear-shot, and the fire wanted making up, upon which the young lady in a pouting her disclosures stopped here. To judge manner, murmured something about " an from all appearances, and the difficulty of old thing," and " great impertinence," and making the water warm, the last servant finished by darting a look of displeasure at could not have been much accustomed to Miss Knag and smiling contemptuously. any other fire than St. Anthony's; but a "Madame Mantalini," said the young little brandy and water was made at last, lady. and the guests, having been previously "Ma'am," said Madame Mantalini. r.galed with cold leg of mutton and bread "Prav have up that pretty young creaand cheese, soon afterwards took leave; ture we saw yesterday." Kate amusing herself all the way home "Oh yes, do," said the sister. with the recollection of her last glimpse of "Of all things in the world, Madame Mr. Mortimer Knag deeply abstracted in Mantalini," said the lord's intended, throwthe shop, and Mrs. Nickleby by debating ing herself languidly on a sofa, " I hate within herself whether the dress-making being waited upon by frights or elderly firm would ultimately become "Manta- persons. Let me always see that young lini, Knag, and Nickleby," or "Manta- creature, I beg, whenever I come." lini, Nickleby, and Knag." " By all means," said the old lord, " the At this high point, Miss Knag's friend- lovely young creature, by all means." ship remained for three whole days, much'Everybody is talking about her," said to the wonderment of Madame Mantalini's the young lady, in the same careless manyoung ladies, who had never beheld such ner: " and my lord, being a great adr.niconstancy in that quarter before; but on rer of beauty, must positively see her." the fourth it received a check no less vio- " She is universally admired," replied lent than sudden, which thus occurred. Madame Mantalini. "Miss Knag, send It so happened that an old lord of great up Miss Nickleby. You needn't return." family, who was going to marry a young "I beg your pardon, Madame Mantalady of no family in particular, came with lini, what did you say last?" asked Mies the young lady, and the young lady's sister, Knag, trembling. to witness the ceremony of trying on two " You needn't retirn," repeated the nuptial bonnets which had been ordered superior, sharply. Miss Knag vanished the day before; and Madame Mantalini without another word, and in all reasonaannouncing the fact in a shrill treble ble time was replaced by Kate, who took through the speaking-pipe, which commn- off the new bonnets and put on the old nicated with the work-room, Miss Knag ones, blushing very much to find that the darted hastily up Ftairs with a bonnet in old lord and the two young ladies were each hand, and presented herself in the staring her out of countenance all the time. I18 NICHIOLAS NICKLEBY. "Why, how you colour, child I" said the short period of her absence. In place o lord's choilsen bride. Miss Knag being stationed in her'atccau "She is not quite so accustomed to her tomed seat, preserving all the dignity alo., business as she will be in a week or two," greatness of Madamne Mantalini's replre interposed Madame Mantalini with a gra- sentative, that worthy soul was reposing on cious smile. a large box, bathed in tears, whmil, three " I am afraid you have been giving her or four of the young ladies in close atter. same of your wicked looks, my lord," said dance upon her, togethler with the l:r,,eserin the intended. of hartshorn, vinegar, and other re(storla" No, no. no," replied the old lord, " no, tires, would have borne ample testino(1ny, no, I'ni goinrg to be married and lead a even without the derangement of the hea'?dnew life. Ila, ha, ha! a new life, a new dress and front row of curls, to her havlife! ha, ha, ha!" ing fainted desperately. It was a satisfactory thing to hear that " Bless me!" said Kate, stepping lhasti. the old gen tleman was going to lead a new ly forward, " What is the matter?" life, for it was pretty evident that his old This inquiry produced in Miss Knag' one would not last him much longer. The violent symptoms of a relapse; and sevemore exertion of protracted chuckling re- ral young ladies, darting angry lo:oks at duced hilm to a fearful ebb of coughing and Kate, applied more vinegar and hartshorn, gasping, and it was some minutes before and said it was " a shame." he coulil find breath to remark that the " What is a shame?" demanded Kate. girl was too pretty for a milliner. "What is the matter? What has hap. "I hope you don't think good looks a pened? tell me." disqu.lification for the business, my lortd," " Matter'" cried Miss Knag, coming all said MIadame Mantalirli, simpering. at once bolt upright, to the great conster. "N ot by any means," replied the old nation of the assembled maidens;' "Mat lord, " or you would have left it long ao." ter! Fie upon you, you nasty creature i" "You na;ughty creature!"said thelively "Gracious!" cried Kate, almost paralady, poking the peer with her parasol; " I lysed by the violence with which the adwon't have you talk so. How dare you." jective had been jerked out from between This pla:yful inquiry was accompanied Miss Knag's closed teeth; "have Ioffeindwith another poke and another, and then ed you?" the old lord caught the parasol,. and " Iou offended me!" retorted Miss wouldn't give it up again, which induced Knag, " Io)u! a chit, a child, an upstart the other lady to come to the rescue, and nobody! Oh, indeed! IHa, ha!" some very pretty sportiveness ensued. Now, it was evident as Miss Knag laugh" You will see that thoselittle alterations ed, that something struck her as being exare made, Madame Mantalini," said the ceedingly funny, and as the young ladies lady. " Nay, my lord, you positively shall took their tone from Miss Knag-she bego first; I w7ouldn't leave you behind with ing the chief-they all got up a laua:gh that pretty girl, not for half a second. I without a moment's delay, and nodded know you too well. Jane, my dear, let their heads a little, and smiled sarcasticalhim go first, and we shall be quite sure of ly to each other, as much as to say, how him." very good that was. The old lord, evidently much flattered " Here she is," continued Miss Knag, by this suspicion, bestowed a grotesque getting off the box, and introducing Kate leer upon Kate as he passed, and receiving with much ceremony and many low curtanother tap with the parasol for his wicked- seys to the delighted throng; "here she ness, tottered down stairs to the door, is-everybody is talking about her-the where his sprightly body was hoisted irto belle, ladies-the beauty, the-old, you the carriag,e by two stout footmen. bold-faced thing!" " Foh I" said Madame Mantalini, " how At this crisis Miss Knag was unable to he ever gets into a carriage without think- repress a virtuous shudder, which imnmeig of a hearse, I can't think. There, diately communicated itself to all tLe take the things away, my dear, take them young ladies, after which Miss Knag away." laughed, and after that. cried. Kate, ewho had remained during the "For fifteen years," exclaimed Mriss whole scene with her eyes modestly fixed Knag, sobbing in a most affecting manupon the ground, was only too happy to ner, " for fifteen years I have been the credavail herself of the permission to retire, it and ornament of this room and the one and hastened joyfully down stairs to Miss up stairs. Thank God," said Miss Knag, Knag's dominion. stamping first her right foot and then her The circumstances of the little kingdom left with remarkable energy,'" I have never had greatly changed, however, during the in all that time, till now, been expo:;ed to NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 11 the arts, the vile arts of a creature, who "I hate her," cried Miss Knag; "I de disgraces us all with her proceedings, and test and hate her. Never let her speak to makes proper people blush for themselves. me again; never let anybody who is a But I feel it, I do feel it, although I am friend of mine speak to her: a slut, a disgusted." hussy, an impudent artful hussy!" liavirng Miss Knag here relapsed into softness, denounced the object of her wrath'n these and the young ladies renewing their atten- terms, Miss Knag screamed once, h ecuped tions, murmured that she ought to be thrice, and gurgled in her throat sc veral superior to such things, and that for their times, slumbered, shivered, woke, camne pBart they despised them, and considered to, composed her head-dress, and declarend them beneath their notice'; in witness herseif quite well again. whereof they called out more emphatically Poor Kate had regarded these proceedthan before that it was a shame, and that ings at first in perfect bewilderment. Sheo they felt so angry, they did, they hardly had then turned red and pale by turns, and Lkew what to do with themselves. once or twice essayed to speak; but as the "I Have I lived to this day to be called true motives of this altered behaviour dea fright I" cried Miss Knag, suddenly be- veloped themselves, she retired a few paces, coming convulsive, and making an effort and looked calmly on without deigning a to tear her front off. reply. But although she walked proudly "Oh no, no," replied the chorus, " pray to her seat, and turned her back upon the don't say so; don't, now." group of little satellites who clustered " IIave I deserved to be called an elder- round their ruling planet in the remoteost ly person?" screamed Miss Knag, wrest- corner of the room, she gave way in secret hing with the supernumeraries. to some such bitter tears as would h.ave "Don't think of such things, dear," an- gladdened Miss Knag's inmost soul if she swered the chorus. could have seen them fall. CHAPTER XIX. I'ESCRIPTIVE OF A DINNER AT MR. RALPH NICKLEBY'S, AND OF THE MANNER IN YWHICH TIIE COMPANY ENTERTAINED ThEMSELVES BEFORE DINNER, AT DINNER, AND AFTER DINNER. THIE bile and rancour of the worthy "That instant," said Ralph. " I ws Mli,s Knag undergoing no diminution dur- coming to call for you, making sure to ing the remainder of the week, but rather catch you before you left; but your mother augmenting with every successive hour; and I have oeen talking over family tfand the honest ire of all the young ladies fairs, and the time has slipped away so rising, or seeming to rise, in exact propor- rapidly " tion to the good spinster's indignation, and "Well, now, hasn't it?" interposed both waxing very hot every time Miss Mrs. Nickleby, quite insensible to the sar. Nickleby was called up stairs, it will be castic tone of Ralph's last remark. "Upon readily imagined that that young lady's my word, I couldn't have believed it pSdaily life was none of the most cheerful or sible, that such a —Kate, my dear, you'r enviable kind. She hailed the arrival of to dine with your uncle at half-past six Saturday night, as a prisoner would a few o'clock to-morrow.", delicious hours' respite from slow and Triumphing in having been the first to wearing torture, and felt, that the poor communicate this extraordinary intellipittance fbr her first week's labour would gence, Mrs. Nickleby nodded and smiled have been dearly and hardly earned had a great many times, to impress its full its amount been trebled. magnificence on Kate's wandering mind, When she joined her mother as usual at and then flew off, at an acute angle, to a the street corner, she was not a little sur- committee of ways and means. prined to find her in conversation with Mr. "Let me see," said the good lady. Ralph Nickleby; but her surprise was soon " Your black silk frock will be quite dress redoubled, no less by the matter of their enough, my dear, with that pretty little conversation, than by the smoothed and scarf, and a plain band in your hair, and a retired manner of: Mr. Nickleby himself. pair of black silk stock-Dear, dear," "' Ah i my dear!" said Ralph; " we cried Mrs. Nickleby, flying off at another were at that moment talking about you." angle, "if I had but those unfortunate "Indeed!" replied Kate, shrinking, amethysts of mine-you recollect them. though she scarce knew why, from her Kate, my love-how they used to sparkle, ubcle's cold glistening eye. you know.-but your papa, your poor dea 121 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. papa —ah! there never was anything so "Oh no," said Ralph; "come when you cruelly sacrificed as those jewels were, like, in a hackney-coach-I'll pay for it. never!" Overpowered by this agonising Good night-a-a-God bless you." thought, Mrs. Nickleby shook her head in The blessing seemed to stick in Mr. a melancholy manner, and applied her Ralph Nickleby's throat, as if it were not handkerchief to her eyes.. used to the thoroughfare and didn't know "I don't want them, mamma, indeed," the way out. But it got out somehow, said Kate. " Forget you ever had them." though awkwardly enough; and having "Lord, Kate, my dear," rejoined Mrs. disposed of it, he shook hands with his Nickleby, pettishly, " how like a child you two relatives, and abruptly left thenl. talk. Four-and-twenty silver tea-spoons, "What a very strongly-marked coun. brother-in-law, two gravies, four salts, all tenance your uncle has," said Mrs. Nie.' the amethysts —necklace, brooch, and ear- kleby, quite struck with his parting look. rings-all made away with at the same " I don't se's the slightest resemblance to time, and I saying almost on my bended his poor brother." knees to that poor good soul,' Why don't "Mamma!" said Kate, reprovingly. you do something, Nicholas! Why don't " To think of such a thing!" you make some arrangement?' I am sure "No," said Mrs. Nickleby, musing. that anybody who was about us at that "There certainly is none. But it's a very time will do me the justice to own, that if honest face." I said that once, I said it fifty times The worthy matron made this remark a-day. Didn't I, Kate, my dear? Did I with great emphasis and elocution, as if it ever lose an apportunity of impressing it comprised no small quantity of ingenuity on your poor papa?" and research; and in truth it was not un" No, no, mamma, never," replied Kate. worthy of being classed among the extraAnd to do Mrs. Nickleby justice, she never ordinary discoveries of the age. Kate had lost —and to do married ladies as a looked up hastily, and as hastily looked body justice, they seldom do lose-any oc- down again. casion of inculcating similar golden pre- " What has come over you, my dear, in eepts, whose only blemish is, the slight the name of goodness?" asked Mrs. Nio. degree of vagueness and uncertainty in kleby, when they had walked on for some which they are usually developed. time in silence. "Ah i" said Mrs. Nickleby, with great " was only thinking, mamma," answer, frvrour, " if my advice had been taken at ed Kate. the beginning —Well, I have always done " Thinking!" repeated Mrs. Nickleby. my duty, and that's some comfort." " Ay, and indeed plenty to think about, When she had arrived at this reflection, too. Your uncle has taken a strong fancy Mrs. Nickleby sighed, rubbed her hands, to you, that's quite clear; and if some exeast up her eyes, and finally assumed a traordinary good fortune doesn't come to look of meek composure, thus importing you after this, I shall be a little surprised, that she was a persecuted saint, but that that's all." she wouldn't trouble her hearers by men- With this, she launched out into sundry tioning a circumstance which must be:so anecdotes of young ladies, who had had obvious to everybody. thousand pound notes give them in reti"Now," said Ralph, with a smile, which cules, by eccentric uncles; and of young in common with all other tokens of emo- ladies who had accidentally met amiable tion, seemed to skulk under his face, gentlemen of enormous wealth at their rather than play boldly over it-"'o re- uncles' houses, and married them, after turn to the point from which we have short but ardent courtships; and Kate, lisstrayed. I have a little party of —of —gen- tening first in apathy, and afterwards in tlemen with whom I am connectedinbusi- amusement, felt, as they walked home;, ness just now, at my house to-morrow; and something of her mother's sanguine conlour mother has promised -that you shall plexion gradually awakening in her owe kep house for me. I am not much used bosom, and began to think that her pros! to parties; but this is one of business, and pects might be brightening, and that bettor ntch fooleries are an important part of it days might be dawning upon them. Such sometimes. You.donltmind obliging me?" is hope, Heaven's own gift to struggling "Mind I" cried Mrs. Nickleby. "My mortals; pervading, likeadsome subtle esdear Kate, why ___ sence from the skies, all things, both good "Pray," interrutpted Ralph, motioning and bad; as universal as death, and more her to be silent. "I'spoke to my niece." infectious than disease. "I shall be very gld,l of course, uncle," The feeble winter's sun —and winter's replied Kate; i' but Iam -afraid you will suns in the city are very feeble indeed-' ilad me very awkwnr..d embarrassed." might have brightened up as he shone NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 121 through the dim windows of the large old knock at the door, which was opened long house, on witnessing thle unusual sight before he had done, as quickly as if there which one half-furnished room displayed. had been a man behind it with his hand In a gloorny corner, where for years had tied to the latch. Kate, who had expectstood a silent dusty pile of merchandise, ed no more uncommon appearance than sheltering its colony of mice, and frowning Newman Noggs in a clean shirt, was not a dull and lifeless mass upon the panelled a little astonished to see that the opener room, save when, responding to the roll of was a man in handsome livery, and that heavy wagons in the streets without, it there were two orthree others in the hall. quaked with sturdy tremblings and caused There was no doubt about its being the the bright eyes of its tiny citizens to grow right house, however, for there was the brighter still with fear, and struck them name upon the door, so she accepted the Motionlcss, with attentive ear and palpita- lace coat-sleeve which was tendered her, t'ng heart, until the alarm had passed away and entering the house was ushered up — in this dark corner was arranged, with stairs, into a back drawing-room, where scrupulous care, all Kate's little finery for she was left alone. the day; each article of dress partaking of If she had been surprised at the apparithat indescribable air of jauntiness and tion of the footman, she was perfectly abindividuality which empty garments- sorbed in amazement at the richness and whether by association, or that they become splendour of the furniture. The softest moulded as it were to the owner's form- and most elegant carpets, the most exquiwill take, in eyes accustomed to, or pictur- site pictures, the costliest mirrors; articles ing the wearer's smartness. In place of a of richest ornament, quite dazzling from bale of musty goods, there lay the black their beauty, and perplexing from the silk dress: the neatest possible figure in prodigality with which they were scattered itself. The small shoes, with toes delicate- abroad, encountered her on every side. ly turned out, stood upon the very pressure The very staircase nearly down tc the of some old iron weight; and a pile of hall door, was crammed with beautiful and harsh discoloured leather had unconscious- luxurious things, as though the house ly given place to the very same little pair were brim-full of riches, which, with a of black silk stockings, which had been the very trifling addition, would fairly run objects of Mrs. Nickleby's peculiar care. over into the street. Rats and mice, and such small deer, had Presently she heard a series of loud long ago been starved or emigrated to bet- double knocks at the street-door, and after ter quarters; and in their stead appeared every knock some new voice in the next gloves, bands, scarfs, hair pins, and many room; the tones of Mr. Ralph Nickleby other little devices, almost as ingenious in were easily distinguishable at first, but by their way as rats and mice themselves, for degrees they merged into the general buzz the tantalisation of mankind. About and of conversation, and all she could ascertain among them all, moved Kate herself, not was, that there were several gentlemen the least beautiful or unwonted relief to with no very musical voices, who talked the stern old gloomy building. very loud, laug'jed very heartily, and In good time, or in bad time, as the swore more thsa she would have thought reader likes to take it, for Mrs. Nickleby's quite necessary. btut this was a question impatience went a great deal faster than of taste. the clocks at that end of the town, and At length the door opened, and Ralph Kate was dressed to the very last hair-pin himself, divested of his boots, and ceremoa full hour and a half before it was at all niously embellished with black silks and necessary to begin to think about it-in shoes, presented his crafty face. good time, or in bad time, the toilet was "I couldn't see you before, my dear," completed; and it being at length the hour he said in a low tone, and pointing as he agreed upon for starting, the milkman spoke, to the next room. "I was engaged fetched a coach from the nearest stand, in receiving them. Now —shall I take and Kate, with many adieus to her mother, you in?" and many kind messages to Miss La "Pray, uncle,"' paid Kate, a little flurried, Creevy, who was to come to tea, seated as people much more conversant with soherself in it, and went away in state if ciety often are when they are about to enter ever any body went away in state in a a room full of strangers, and have had time hackney-coach yet. And the coaqh, and to think of it previously, "are there any the coachman, and the horses, rattled, and ladies here?" jangled, and whipped, and cursed, and "No,".ai4 Ralph, shortly, "I don't swore, and tumbled on together, till they know gny." " same to Golden Square. "Must I go in inmediatelqy " e"r od The coachman gave a tremendous double Kate, drawing back a little. 122C NI NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. "As you please," said Ralph, shrugging wi.h somebody, who a' peared to be t mntake his shoulders. " They are all come, and weight, and was not introduced at all. dinner will be announced directly after- There were two circumstlances which. wards-that's all." in this early stage of the party. struck Kate would have entreated a few min- home to Kate's bosom, and broughlt the utes' respite. but reflecting that her uncle blood tingling to her face. One was the might consider the payment of the hack- flippant contempt with which the guests ney-coach fare a sort of bargain for her evidently regarded her uncle, and the other punctuality, she suffered him -to draw her the easy insolence of their manner towarde arm through his and to lead her away. herself. That the first symptom was very Seven or eight gentlemen were standing likely to lead to the aggravation of the round the fire when they went in, and as second, it needed no great penetr;tion to they were talking very loud, were not foresee. And here Mr. Ralph Nicklehy aware of their entrance until Mr. Ralph had reckoned without his host; for hlvwNickleby, touching one on the coat-sleeve, ever fresh from the country a young lady said in a harsh emphatic voice, as if to (by nature) may be, and however unacattract general attention- quainted with conventional behaviour, the "Lord Frederick Verisopht, my niece, chances are that she will have quite as Miss Nickleby." strong an innate sense of the decencies The group dispersed as if in great sur- and proprieties of life as if she had run the prise, and the gentleman addressed, turn- gauntlet of a dozen London seasons-posing round, exhibited a suit of clothes of sibly a stronger one, for such senses have the most superlative cut, a pair of whiskers been known to blunt in this improving of similar quality, a moustache, a head of process. hair, and a young face. When Ralph had completed the ceremo" Eh!" said the gentleman. " What- nial of introduction, he led his blushing the —devyle!" niece to a seat, and as he did so, glanced With which -broken ejaculations he fixed warily round as though to assure himself his glass in his eye, and stared at Miss of the impression which her unlooked-for Nickleby in great surprise. appearance had created. "My niece, my lord," said Ralph.' An unexpected playsure, Nickleby," "Well, then, my ears did not deceive said Lord Frederick Verisopht, taking his me, and it's not wa-a-x work," said his glass out of his right eye, where it had lordship. "How de do? I'm very happy." until now done duty on Kate, and fixing And then his lordship turned to another it in his left to bring it to bear on Ralph. superlative gentleman, something older, "Designed to surprise you, Lord Fredsomething stouter, something redder in erick," said Mr. Pluck. the face, and something longer upon town, "Not a bad idea," said his lordship,"and and said in a loud whisper that the girl one that would almost warrant the addiwas " devylish pitty." tion of an extra two and a half per cent." "Introduce me, Nickleby," said this -" Nickleby," said Sir Mulberry Hawk, second gentleman, who was lounging with in a thick coarse voice, " take the hint, his back to the fire, and both elbows on and tack it on to the other five-and-twenty, the chimney-piece. or whatever it is, and give me half for the "Sir Mulberry Hawk," said Ralph. advice." " Otherwise the most knowing card in Sir Mulberry garnished this speech with the pa-ack, Miss Nickleby," said Lord a hoarse laugh, and terminated it with a Frederick Verisopht. pleasant oath regarding Mr. Nickleby's "Don't leave me out, Nickleby," cried limbs, whereat Messrs. Pyke and Pluck a sharp-faced gentleman, who was sitting "laughed consumedly." on a low chair with a high back, reading These gentlemen had nct yet quite rethe paper. covered the jest when dinner was announe"Mr. Pyke," said Ralph. ed, and then they were thrown into fresh " Nor me, Nickleby," cried a gentleman ecstacies by a similar cause; for Sir Mulwith a flushed face and a flash air, from berry Hawk, in an excess of humour, shot the elbow of Sir Mulberry Hawk. dexterously past Lord Frederick Verisopht "Mr. Pluck," said Ralph. Then wheel- who was about to lead Kate down stairs. ing about again towards a gentleman with and drew her arm through his up to the the neck of a stork and the legs of no elbow. animal in particular,Ralph introduced him "No, damn it, Verisopht," said Sir as the Honourable Mr. Snobb; and a Mulberry, "fair play's a jewel, and Miss white-headed person at the tableas Colonel Nickleby and I settled the matter with Chowser. The colonel was in conversation our eyes, ten minutes ago." NICHOLAS NICKLEBV. 128 " Ha, ha, ha I" laughed the Honoura- I ascendency over those he took in hand, ble Mr. Snobb, " very good, very good." rather to keep them down than to give Rendered additionally witty by this ap- them their own way; and to exercise his plause, Sir Mulberry Hawk leered u in vivacity upon them openly and without his friends most facetiously, and led Kate reserve. Thus he made them butts in a down stairs with an airoffamiliarity which double sense, and while he emptied them roused in her gentle bosom such disgust with great address, caused them to ring and burning indignation as she felt it al- with sundry well-administered taps for the most imlpossible to repress. Nor was the diversion of society. intensity of these feelings at all dimin- The dinner was as remarkable for the ished, when she found herself placed at splendour and completeness of its appoint the top of the table, with Sir Mulberry ments as the mansion itself, and the comHawk and Lord Verisopht on either side. pany were remarkable for doing it ample " Oh, you've found your way into our justice, in which respect Messrs. Pyke neighbourhood, have you?" said Sir Mul- and Pluck particularly signalised themberry, as his lordship sat down. selves; these two gentlemen eating of "Of course," replied Lord Frederick, every dish, and drinking of every bottle, fixing his eyes on Miss Nickleby, " how with a capacity and, perseverance truly ascan you a-ask me?" tonishing. They were remarkably fresh, " Well, you attend to your dinner," too, notwithstanding theirgreat exertions; said Sir Mulberry, " and d. l't mind Miss for, on the appearance of the dessert, they Nickleby and me, for we shall prove very broke out again, as if nothing serious had indifferent company, I dare say." taken place since breakfast. "I wish vou'd interfere here, Nickle- "Well," said Lord Frederick, sipping by," said Lord Verisopht. his first glass of port, "if this is a dis"What is the matter, my lord I" de- counting dinner, all I have tosay is, devyle mnanded Ralph, from the bottom of the take me, if it wouldn't be a good pla-an to iable, where he was supported by Messrs. get discount every day." Pfke and Pluck. "You'll have plenty of that in your " This fellow, IIawk, is monopolising time," returned Sir Mulberry Hawk; y, ur niece," said Lord Frederick. "Nickleby will tell you that." a Ile has a tolerable share of everything "' What do you say, Nickleljy?" in. t it you lay claim to, my lord," said quired the young man; "am I to be B ilph with a sneer. good customer?" (lad, so he has," replied the young "It depends entirely on circumstances, intn; "devyle take me if I know which my lord," replied Ralph. is master in my house, he or I." "On your lordship's circumstances, my' I know," muttered Ralph. lord," interposed Colonel Chowser of the "I think I shall cut him off with a shil- Militia-and the race-courses. li ig," said the young nobleman, jocosely. The gallant Colonel glanced at Messrs. " No, no, curse it," said Sir Mulberry. Pyke and Pluck as if he thought they " When you come to the shilling-the last ought to laugh at his joke, but those gens1Alling I'll cut you fast enough; but till tlemen, being only engaged to laugh for tbhen, I'll never leave you-you may take Sir Mulberry Hawk, were, to his signal your oath of it." discomfiture, as grave as a pair of underThis sally (which was strictly founded takers. To add to his defeat, Sir Mulbercn fact,) was received with a general roar, ry, considering any such efforts an invasion -above which, was plainly distinguishable of his peculiar privilege, eyed the offender the laughter of Mr. Pyke and Mr. Pluck, steadily through his glass as if astounded who were evidently Sir Mulberry's toads at his presumption, and audibly stated his In ordinary. Indeed, it wvas not difficult to impression that it was an " infernal liber. see, that the majority of the company prey- ty," which being a hint to Lord Frederick, ed upon the unfortunate young lord, who, he put up his glass, and surveyed the ohweak and silly as he was, appeared by far ject of censure as if he were some extrathe least vicious of the party. Sir Mul- ordinary wild animal then exhibiting fur berry Hawk was remarkable for his tact the first time. As a matter of course, in ruining, by himself and his creatures, Messrs. Pyke and Pluck stared at the in. young gentlemen of fortune-a genteel dividual whom Sir Mulberry IHawk stared and elegant profession, of which he had at; so the poor Colonel, to hide his confuando ibtedly gained the head. With all sion, was reduced to the necessity ofholdthe boldness of an original genius, he had ing his port before his right eye, and afstruck out an entirely new course of treat- fecting to scrutinise its colour with the ment, quite opposed to the usual method, most lively interest. his custom being,'w-en he had gained the All1 this while Kate had sat as silently 124 NIOHOLAS NICKLEB!. as she could, scarcely daring to raise her taste. You haven't a chan'.e, old follow. eyes, lest they should encounter the admir- Time now, Snobb?" ing gaze of Lord Frederick Verisopht, or, " Eight minutes gone." what was still more embarrassing, the bold " Get the money ready," said Sir Mul looks of his friend Sir Mulberry. The berry; "you'll soon hand over." latter gentleman was obliging enough to "Iia, ha, ha!" laughed Mr. Pyke. direct general attention towards her. Mr. Pluck, who always came second, " Itere is Miss Nickleby," observed Sir and topped his companion if he could Mulberry, "wondering why the deuce screamed outright. somebody doesn't make love to her." The poor girl, who was so overwhelmed "No, indeed," said Kate, looking hasti- with confusion that she scarcely knew ly up, "I' "and then she stopped, feel- what she did, had determined to remain ing it would have been better to have said perfectly quiet; but fearing that by so donothing at all. ing she might seem to countenance Sir " I'll hold any man fifty pounds," said Mulberry's boast, which had been uttered Sir Mulberry, "that Miss Nickleby can't with great coarseness and vulgarity of look in my face, and tell me she wasn't manner, raised her eyes, and looked him thinking so." in the face. There was something so odi"Done!" cried the noble gull. "With- ous, so insolent, so repulsive in the look in ten minutes." which met her, that, without the potwer to "Done!" responded Sir Mulberry. The stammer forth a syllable, she rose and hurmoney was produced on both sides, and ried from the room. She restrained her the HIonourable Mr. Snobb was elected to tears by a great effort until she was alone the double office of stake-holder and time- up stairs, and then gave them vent. keeper. "Capital!" said Sir Mulberry ITawk, " Pray," said Kate, in great confusion, putting the stakes in his pocket. "That's while these preliminaries were in course a girl of spirit, and we'll drink her health.' of completion. "Pray do not make me It is needless to say that Pyke and Co. the subject of any bets. Uncle, I cannot responded with great warmth of manner really -" to this proposal,or that the toast was drunk " Why not, my dear?" replied Ralph, with many little ins inuations from the firmn in whose grating voice, however, there was relative to the complelteness of Sir Mulan unusual huskiness, as though he spoke berry's conquest. 1]tlph, who, while the unwillingly, and would rather that the pro- attention of the other gf'ests was attracted position had not been broached. " It is to the principals in debt preceding scene, done in a moment; there is nothing in it. had eyed them like a,rolf, appeared te If the gentlemen insist on it-" breathe more freely i:,wv his niece was "Idon't insist on it," said Sir Mulberry, gone; and the decantedi passing quickly with a loud laugh. "That is, I by no round, leant back in his chair, and turned means insist upon Miss Nickleby's making his eyes from speaker t, speaker, as they the.denial, for if she does, I lose; but I warmed with wine, witb looks that seemed shall be glad to see her bright eyes, espe- to search their hearts anc lay bare for his cially as she favours the mahogany so distempered sport every iet thought withmuch." in them. "So she does, and it's too ba-a-d of you, Meantime Kate, left wl lly to herself, Miss Nickleby," said the noble youth. had in some degree recovere1 her compo" Quite cruel," said Mr. Pyke. sure. She had learnt from a firmaale atten" Horrid cruel," said Mr. Pluck. dant, that her uncle wished to ses her be"I don't care if I do lose," said Sir Mul- fore she left, and had also gleaaed the satberry, " for one tolerable look at Miss Nic- isfactory intelligence, that the gentlemen kleby's eyes is worth double the money." would take coffee at table. The prospect "More," said Mr. Pyke. of seeing them no more contributed great-'Far more," said Mr. Pluck. ly to calm her agitation, and, taking up a "flow goes the enemy, Snobb?" asked book, she composed herself to read. Wr Mulberry Hawk. She started now and then when the sud" Four minutes gone." den opening of the dining-room door let "Bravo i" loose a wild shout of noisy revelry, and "Won't you ma-ake one effort for me, more than once rose in great alarm, as a Miss Nickleby?" asked Lord Frederick, fanci3d footstep on the staircase impressed after a short interval. her with the fear that some stray member " You needn't trouble yourself to in- of the party was returning alone. Nothing quire, my buck," said Sir Mulberry; " Miss occurring, however, to realise her appreNickleby and I understand each other; hensions, she endeavoured to fix her attentie declares on my side, and shows her tion more closely on h ir book, in which by NICHOLAS NICK1;EBY. 125 degrees she became sor much interested, make you shrink tc lcck upon me. Let that she had read on through several me pass you." chapters without heed of time or place, Ralph did shrink. as the indignant girl when she was terrified by suddenly hear- fixed her kindlingr eye upon him; but he ing her name pronounced by a man's did not comply wi.th her injunction, nevervoice close at her ear. theless; for he led her to a distant seat, The book fell from her hand. Lounging and returning and approaching Sir lMulon an ottoman close beside her, was Sir berry Hawk, who had by this time risen, Mulberry Hawk, evidently the worse-if motioned towards the door. a man be a ruffian at heart, he is never " Your way lies there, Sir," said Ralph, the better-for wine. in a suppressed voice, that some devil "What a delightful studiousness i" said might have owned with pride. thisaccomplishedgentleman. "Wasitreal, "What do you mean by that?" donow, or only to display the eye-lashes?" manded his friend fiercely. Kate bit her lip, and looking anxiously The swoln veins stood out like sinews towards the door, made no reply. on Ralph's wrinkled forehead, and the " I have looked at'em for five minutes," nerves about his mouth worked as though said Sir Mulberry. "Upon my soul, they're some unendurable torture wrung them; perfect. Why did I speak, and destroy but he smiled disdainfully, and again such a pretty little picture?" pointed to the door. "Do me the favour to be silent now, "Do you know mt, you madman?" Sir," replied Kate. asked Sir Mulberry. " No, don't," said Sir Mulberry, folding " Well," said Ralph. The fashionable lhis crush hat to lay his elbow on, and vagabond for the moment quite quailed bringing himself still closer to the young under the steady look of the older sinner, lady; "upon my life you oughtn't to. and walked towards the door, muttering Such a devoted slave of yours, Miss Nic- as he went. kleby-it's an infernal thing to treat him " You wanted the lord, did you?" he so harshly, upon my soul it is." said, stopping short when he reached tho " I wish you to understand. Sir," said door, as if a new light had broken in upon Kate, trembling in spite of herself, but him, and confronting Ralph again. speaking with great indignation, "that " Damme, I was in the way, was I?" your behaviour offends and disgusts me. Ralph smiled again, butmadenoanswer. if you have one spark of gentlemanly feel " Who brought him to you first?" puringremainng,y,uwillleavemeinstantly. sued Sir Mulberry; "aad how without "Now, why," sa't Sir Mulberry, "why me could you ever have wound him in will you keep up thib appearance of exces- your net as you have?" sive rigour, my sweet creature'? Now, be "*The net is a large one, and rather more natural-my dear Miss Nickleby, be full," said Ralph. "Take care that it more natural-do." chokes nobody in the meshes." Kate hastily rose; but as she rose, Sir " You would sell your flesh and blood Mulberry caught her dress, and forcibly for money; yourself, if you ha;we not aldetained her. ready made a bargain with the devil," re" Let me go, Sir," she cried, her heart torted the other. "Do you mean to tell swelling with anger. "Do you hear? In- me that your pretty niece was not brought stantly-this moment." here as a decoy for the drunken boy down " Sit down, sit down," said Sir Mul- stairs?" berry. " I want to talk to you." Although this hurried dialogue was "Unhandme,Sir,thisinstant,"criedKate. carried on in a suppressed tone on both " Not for the world," rejoined Sir Mul- sides, Ralph looked involuntarily round to berry. Thus speaking, he leant over, as ascertain that Kate had not moved her if to replace her in her chair; but the position so as to be within hearing. His young lady making a violent effort to dis- adversary saw the advantage he had engotge herself, he lost his balance, and gained, and followed it up. measured his length upon the ground. As "Do you mean to tell me," he asked Ka;te sprung forward to leave the room, again, " that it is not so? Do you mean Ralph Nickleby appeared in the door-way, to say that if he had found his way up here and confronted her. instead of me, you wouldn't have been q "What is this?" said Ralph. little more blind, and a little more deaf, " It is this, Sir," replied Kate, violently and a little less flourishing than you hrve agitated: " that beneath the roof where been? Come, Nickleby, answer me that.' I, a helpless girl, your dead brother's " I tell you this," replied Ralph, "r hal child, should most have found protection, if I brought her here, as a matter of buas I have been exposed to insult which should ness -" 126 N1CIC OLAS NICKLEB.Y. "Ay, that's the word," interposed Sir "Yes, yes," said Ralph. "You shall. Mulberry, with a laugh. "You're coming But you must dry your eyes first, and cointo yourself again now." pose yourself. Let me raise your head. "- As a nmatter of business," pursued There-there." Ralph, speaking slowly and firmly, as a " Oh, uncle!" exclaimed Kate, clasping man who has made up his mind to say no her hands. " What have I done —what more, " because I thought she might make have I done-that you should subject me to some, impression on the silly youth you this! If I had wronged you in thought, or have taken in hand and are lending good word, or deed, it would have been mos, cruel help to ruin. I knew-knowing him-that to me, and the memory of one you must it would be long before he outraged her have loved in some old time; but-" girl's feelings, and that unless he offended "Only listen to me for a moment," inbymere puppyismandemptiness, hewould, terrupted Ralph, seriously alarmed by the with a little management, respect the sex violence of her emotions. " I didn't know and conduct even of his usurer's niece. it would be so; it was impossible f(,r pne to But if I thought to draw him on more gen- foresee it. 1 did all I could. Come, let us fly by this device, I did not think of sub- walk about. You are faint with the closejecting the girl to the licentiousness and ness of the room, and the heat of these brutality of so old a hand as you. And lamps. You will be better now, if you now we understan each other." make the slightest effort." " Especially as t]ere was ncothing to be "I will do anything," replied Kate, " if got by it-eh?" sneered Sir Mulberry. you will only send me home." "Exactly so," said Ralph. He had " Well, well, I will," said Ralph; "but turned away, and looked over his shoulder you must get back your own looks, for to make this last reply. The eyes of the those you have will frighten them, and nrotwo worthies met with an expression as if body must know of this but you and I. each rascal felt that there was no disguis- Now let us walk the other way. There. ing himself from the other; and Sir Mul- You look better even now." beity Hawk shrugged his shoulders and With such encouragements as these, walked slowly out. Ralph Nickleby walked to and' fro, withi His friend closed the door, and looked his niece leaning on his arm; quelled by restlessly towards the spot where his her eye, and actually trembling beneath niece still remained in the attitude in her touch. which he had left her. She had flung In the same manner, when he judged it herself heavily upon the couch, and with prudent to allow her to depart, he supporther head drooping over the cushion, and ed her down stairs, after adjusting her her face hidden in her hands, seemed to be shawl and perforiming such little offices, stillweepinginanagonyofshameandgrief. most probably for the first time in his life. Ralph would have walked into any po- Across the hall, and down the steps Ralph verty-stricken debtor's house, and pointed led her too; nor did he withdraw his hall, him out to a bailiff; though in attendance until she was seated in the coach. upon a yohng child's deathbed, without the As the door of the vehicle was roughly smallest concern, because it would have closed, a comb fell from Kate's hair, close been a matter quite in the ordinary course at her uncle's feet; and as he picked it up of business, and the man would have been and returned it into her hand, the light an offender against his only code of mo- fiom a neighbouring lamp shone upon her rality. But here was a young girl, who face. The lock of hair that had escaped had done no wrong but that of coming into and curled loosely over her brow, the traces the world alive; who had patiently yielded of tears yet scarcely dry, the flushed check, to all his wishes; who had tried so hard to the look of sorrow, all fired some dormantr please him —above all, who didn't owe him train of recollection in the old mian: money-and he felt awkward and nervous. breast; and the face of his dead brother Ralph took a chair at some distance, seemed present before him, with the very then another chair a little nearer, then look it wore on some occasion of boyish moved a little nearer still, then nearer grief, of whichevery minutest circumstance again, and finally sat himself on the same flashed upon his mind, with the distinct. sofa, and laid his hand on Kate's arm. ness of a scene of yesterday. " Hush, my dear!" he said, as she drew "Ralph Nickleby, who was proof against it back, and her sobs buret out afresh. all appeals of blood and kindred —who was " IHush, hush! Don't mind it now; don't steeled against every tale of sorrow and think of it." distress —stamgered while he looked, and "Oh, for p)ity's'sake let me go home," reeled back into his house, as a man who cried Kate. "L' me leave this house had seen a spirit from some world beyond amd go home" the grave. NICHOLA S NICKLEBY. 12? CHAPTER XX. WHIEREIN NICHOT AS AT LENGTH ENCOUNTERS IIS UNCLE, TO W-HOMI HE EXPRIESSES HIS SENTIMENTS WITH MUCH CANDOUR. HIS RESOLUTION. LIrTLE Miss La Creevy trotted briskly "Then good morning, ma'am," said through divers streets at the west end of Miss Knag. the town early on Monday morning-the " Good morning to you, ma'am; and day after the dinner-charged with the many obligations for your extreme politeimpJurtant commission of acquainting Ma- ness and good-breeding," rejoined Miss dame Mantalini that Miss Nickleby was La Creevy. too unwell to attend that day, but hoped to Thus terminating the interview, during be enabled to resume her duties on the which both ladies had trembled very much, morrow. And as Miss La Creevy walked and been marvellously polite-certain inalong, revolving in her mind various gen- dications that they were within an inch of teel iornis and elegant turns of expression, a very desperate quarrel-Miss La Creevy wital a view to the selection of the very bounced outof the room,and into the street. best in which to couch her communicca- " I wonder who that is," said the queer tion, she cogitated a good deal upon the little soul. "A nice person to know, I pr0obable causes of her young friend's in- should think! I wish I had the painting of iisposition. her: I'd do herjustice." So, feeling quite " I don't know what to make of it," said satisfied that she had said a very cutting Miss La Creevy. " Ier eyes were decid- thing at Miss Knags expense, Miss La edly red last night. She said she had a Creevy had a hearty laugh, and went head-ache; head-aches don't occasion red home to breakfast. in great good humour. eyes. She must have been crying." Hiere was one of the advantages of hayArriving at this conclusion, which, in- ing lived alone so long. The little bustdeed, she had established to her perfect ling, active, cheerful creature, existed ensatisfaction on the previous evening, Miss tirely within herself, talked to herself, La Creevy went on to consider-as she made a confidant of herself, was as sarcashad done nearly all night-what new tic as she could be, on people who offended cause of unhappiness her young friend her, by herself; pleased herself, and did no could possibly have had. harm. If she indulged in scandal, nobody's "I can't think of any thing," said the reputation suffered; and if she enjoyed a little portrait-painter. " Nothing at a.ll, little bit of revenge, no living soul was one unless it was the behaviour of that old atom the worse. One of the many to bear. Cross to her, I suppose? Unplea- whom, from straitened circumstances, a sant brute!" consequent inability to form the associaRelieved by this expression of opinion, tions they would wish, and a disinclination albeit it was vented upon empty air, Miss to mix with the society they could obtain, La Creevy hurried on to Madame Manti- London is as complete a solitude as the lini's; and being informed that the govern- plains of Syria, the humble artist had poring power was not yet out of bed, request- sued her lonely but contented way for many ed an interview with the second in cow- years; and, until the peculiar misfortunes mand, whereupon Miss Knag appeared. of the Nickleby family attracted her atten" So far as I am concerned," said Miss tion, had made no friends, though brimful Knag, when the message had been deliv- of the fiiendliest feelings to all mankind. ered, with many ornaments of speech; " I There are many warm hearts in the same could spare Miss Nickleby for evermore." solitary guise as poor Miss La Creevy's. " Oh, indeed, mna'am!" rejoined Miss La However, that's neither here nor there Creevy, highly offended. "But you see just now. She went home to br-akfast, you are not mistress of the business, and and had scarcely caught the full fia our of therefore it's of no great consequence." her first sip of tea, when the servant an" Very good, ma'am," said Miss Knag. nounced a gentleman, whereat Miss La " Iave you any further commands for Creevy, at once imagining a new sitter, me?" transfixed by admiration at the street-door " No, I have not, ma'am," rejoined case, was in unspeakable consternation at Miss a Creevy. the presence of the tea-things. 128 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY " IIcre, take'em away; run with'em interposed Miss La Creevy, " that I don't into the bed-room; anywhere," said Miss envy you your taste; and tiat sitting in La Creevy. "I)ear, dear; to think that I the same room with his very boots, would should be late on this particular morning, put me out of humlour for a fortnight." of all others, after being ready for three " In the main," said Nicholas, "there weeks by half-past eight o'clock, and not may be no great difference of opinion bea soul coming near the place!" tween you and me, so.far; but you will " Don't let me put you out of the way," understand, that I desire to confront him; said a voice Miss La Cr-eevy knew. " I to justify myself, and- to cast his duplicity told the servant not to mention my name, and malice in his throat." because I wished to surprise you.".. " That's quite another matter," rejoined " Mlr. Nicholas I" cried Miss La Creevy, Miss La Creevy. " God forgive me; but btarting in great astonishment. I shouldn't cry my eyes quite out of my "You have not forgotten me, I see " re- head, if they choked him. Well." plied Nicholas, extending his hand. "To this end I called upon him this "' Why I think I should even have known morning," said Nicholas. "lIe only reyou if I had met you in the street," said turned to town on Saturday, and I knew Miss La Creevy, with a snmile. " HIIannah, nothing of his arrival until late last night." another cup and saucer. Now I'll tell you " And did you see him?" asked Miss'what, young man; I'll trouble you not to La Creevy. repeat the impertinence you were guilty " No," replied Nicholas. " ie had of on the morning you went away." gone out." "You would not be very angry, would " IIah!" said Miss La Creevy; " on you?" asked Nicholas. some kind,charitable business, I dare say." "Wouldn't I?" said Miss La Creevy. "I have reason to believe," pursued Ni. "You had better try; that's all." cholas, "from what has been told me by a Nicholas, with becoming gallantry, im- friend of mine, who is acquainted with his mediately took Miss La Creevy at her movements, that he intends seeing my word, who uttered a faint scream and slap- mother and sister to-day, and giving them ped his face; but it was not a very hard his version of the occurrences that have slap, and that's the truth. befallen me. I will meet him there." " I never saw such a rude creature!" " That's right,"'said Miss La Creevy, exclaimed Miss La Creevy. rubbing her hands. " And yet, I don't "You told me to try," said Nicholas. know-" she added, " there is much to be "Well; but I was speaking ironically," thought of-others to be considered." rejoined Miss La Creevy. " I have considered others," rejoined "Oh! that's another thing," said Nicho- Nicholas; " but as honesty and honour are las; "you should have told me that, too." both at an issue, nothing shall deter me." "I dare say you didn't know, indeed!" " You should know best," said Miss La retorted Miss La Creevy. "But now I Creevy. look at you again, you seem thinner than "In this case I hope so," answered Niwhen I saw you last, and your face is hag- cholas. " And all I want you to do for gard and pale. And how come you tohave me, is, to prepare them for my coming. left Yorkshire?" They think me a long way off, and if I She stopped here; for there was so went wholly unexpected, I should firighten much heart in her altered tone and man- them. If you can spare time to tell them ner, that Nicholas was quite moved. you have seen me, and that I shall be with " I need look somewhat changed," he them a quarter of an hour afterwards, you said, after a short silence; "for I have will do me a great service." undergone somne suffering, both of mind " I wish I could do you, or any of you, and body, since I left London. I have been a greater," said Miss La Creevy; " Ibut very poor, too, and have even suffered the power to serve is as seldom joined froim want." with the will, as the will with the power."'" Good HIeaven, Mr. Nicholas!" ex- Talking on very fast and very much, c!aimed Miss La Creevy, "what are you Miss La Creevy finished her breakfast tellingo me 1" with great expedition; put away the tea"N othing which need distress you quite caddy and hid the key under the fender. so nmuch," answered Nicholas, with a more resumed her bonnet, and, taking Nichol sprightly air;'neither did I come here to as's arm, sallied forth at once to the city bewail my lot, but on matter more to the Nicholas left her near the door of hiv purpose. I wish to meet my Uncle face to mether's house, and promised to return tace. I should tell you that first." within a quarter of an hour at furthest. " Then all I have to say about that is," It so chanced that Ralph Nickleby, 9A NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 129 lengthll seeing fit, for his own purposes, to held outas an additioral indlu ement t( her, communicate the atrocities of which Nicho- to preserve the strictest silence regarding las had been guilty, had (instead of first the events of the preceding night. She proceeding to another quarter of the town looked involuntarily towards Ralph as he (,n business, as Newman Noggs supposed ceased to speak, but he had turned his he would,) gone straight to his sister-in- eyes another way, and seemed for the melaw. Hence when Miss La Creevy, ad- ment quite unconscious of her presence. wmitted by a girl who was cleaning the "Everything," said Ralph, after a long house, made her way to the sitting-room, silence, broken only by Mrs. Nickleby's she found Mrs. Nickleby and Kate in tears, sobs, "everything combines to prove the and Ralph just concluding his statement truth of this letter, if indeed there were of his nephew's misdemeanours. Kate any possibility of disputing it. Do innobeckoned her not to retire, and Miss La cent men steal away from the sight of Creevy took a seat in silence. honest folks, and skulk in hiding-places "You are here already, are you, my like outlaws? Do innocent men inveigle gentleman?" thought the little woman. nameless vagabonds, and prowl with them "Then he shall announce himself, and about the country as idle robbers do?. Assee what effect that has on you." sault, riot, theft, what do you call these?" "This is pretty," said Ralph, folding "A lie!" cried a furious voice. as the up Miss Squeers's note; "very.pretty. I door was dashed open, and Nicholas burst recommended him-against all my pre- into the centre of the room. vious conviction, for I knew he would In the first moment of surprise, and pos. never do any good-to a man with whom, sibly of alarm, Ralph rose from his seat, behaving himself properly, he might have and fell back a few paces, quite taken off remained in comfort for years. What is the his guard by this unexpected apparition. result? Conduct, for which he might hold In another moment, he stood fixed and iamup his hand at the Old Bailey." moveable with folded arms, regarding his " I never will believe it," said Kate, in- nephew with a scowl of deadly hatred, dignantly; "'never. It is some base con- while Kate and Miss La Creevy threw spiracy, which carries its own falsehood themselves between the two to prevent the with it." personal violence which the fierce excite" MIy dear," said Ralph, "you wrong the ment of Nicholas appeared to threaten. worthy man. These are not inventions. "Dear.Nicholas," cried his sister, cling The man is assaulted, your brother is not ing to him. " Be calm, consider-" to be found; this boy of whom they speak, "Consider, Kate!" cried Nicholas, goes with him —remember, remember." clasping her hand so tight in the tumult " It is impossible," said Kate. " Nicho- of his anger, that she could scarcely bear las! —and a thief, too! Mamma, how can the pain. "When I consider all, and you sit and hear such statements?" think of what has passed, I need be made Poor Mrs. Nickleby, who had at no time of iron to stand before him." been remarkable for the possession of a "Orbronze," said Ralph quietly; "there very clear understanding,and who had been is not hardihood enough in flesh and blood reduced by the late changes in her affairs to face it out." to a most complicated state of perplexity, "Oh dear, dear!" cried Mrs. Nickleby, made no other reply to this earnest remon- "that things should have come to such a strance than exclaiming from behind a pass as this!" mass of pocket-handkerchief, that she " Who speaks in a tone, as if I had never could have believed it-thereby most done wrong, and brought disgrace on ingeniously leaving her hearers to suppose them?" said Nicholas, looking around. that she did believe it. "Your mother, Sir," replied Ralph, "It would be my duty, if he came in my motioning towards her. way, to deliver him up to justice," said "Whose ears have been poisoned by Ralph, " my bounden duty; I should have you," said Nicholas; "by you-you, who no other course, as a man of the world under pretence of deseyving the thanks sh6 and a man of business, to pursue. And poured upon you, heaped every insult, yet, said Ralph, speaking in a very wrong, and indignity, upon my head. You, marked manner, and looking furtively, who sent me to a den where sordid cruelty, but fixedly, at Kate, "'and yet Iwould not, worthy of yourself, runs wanton, and I would spore the feelings of his —of his youthful misery stalks precocious; where sister. And his mother of course," added the lightness of childhood shrinks into the Ralph, as though by an afterthought, and heaviness of age, and its every promise $with far less emphasis. blights, and withers as it grows. I cal) Kate very well understood that this was Heaven to witness," sa;d Nicholas, lookin 130 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. eagerly rount, " that I have seen all this, birth; I might wring something from ].is and that that mHnn knows it." sense of shame, if he were dead to every "Refute thehe calumnies," said Kate, tie of nature." " and be more patient, so that you may "Indeed!" said Ralph. "Now, Sir, give them no advantage. Tell us what will you hear a word or'two from me?" you really did, and show that they are un- "You can speak when and what y.-u true." please," replied Nicholas, embracing his " Of what do they-or of what does he sister. " I take little heed of what you accuse me?" said Nicholas. say or threaten." "First, of attacking your master, and "Mighty well, Sir," retorted Ralph; being within an ace of qualifying yourself " but perhaps it may concern others, who to be tried for murder," interposed Ralph. may think it worth their while to listen " I speak plainly, young man, bluster as and consider what I tell them. I will you will." address your mother, Sir, who knows the " I interfered," said Nicholas, " to save world." a miserable, wretched creature from the "Ah! and I only too dearly wish I vilest and most degrading cruelty. In so didn't," sobbed Mrs. Nickleby. doing, I inflicted such punishment upon a There really was no necessity for the wretch as he will not readily forget, though good lady to be much distressed upon this far less than he deserved firom me. If the particular head, the extent of her worldly same scene were renewed before me now, knowledge being, to say the least, very I would take the same part; but I would questionable; and so Ralph seemed to strike harder and heavier, and brand him think, for he smiled as he spoke. He with such marks as he should carry to his then glanced steadily at her and Nicholas grave, go to it when he would." by turns, as he delivered himself in these "You hear?" said Ralph, turning to words:Mrs. Nickleby. " Penitence this!" " Of what I have done, or what I meant "Oh dear me I" cried Mrs. Nickleby, to do, for you, ma'am, and my niece, I say "I don't know what to think, I really not one syllable. I held out no promise, don't!" and leave you to judge for yourself. I hold "Do not speak just now, mamma, I en- out no threat now, but I say that this boy, treat you," said Kate. " Dear Nicholas, I headstrong, wilful, and disorderly as he is, only tell you, that you may know what should not have one penny of my money, wickedness can prompt, but they accuse or one crust of my bread, or one grasp of you of-a ring is missing, and they dare my hand, to save him from the loftiest galto say that-" lows in all Europe. I will not meet him, "The woman," said Nicholas, haughti- come where he comes, or hear his name. ly, " the wife of the fellow from whom these I will not help him, or those who help him. charges came, dropped-as I suppose —a With a full knowledge of what he brought worthless ring among some clothes of upon you by so doing, he has come back mine, early in the morning on which I left in his selfish sloth, to be an aggrayvation the house. At least, I know that she was of your wants, and a burden upon his sisin the bed-room where they lay, struggling ter's scanty wages. I regret to leave you, with an unhappy child, and that I found it and more to leave her, now, but I will not when I opened my bundle on the road. I encourage this compound of meanness and returned it at once by coach, and they cruelty, and as I will not ask you to rehave it now." nounce him, I see you no more." "I knew, I knew," said Kate, looking If Ralph had not known and felt his t;)wards her uncle. "About this boy, power in wounding those he hated, his rove, in whose company they say you glances at Nicholas would have shown it left?" him in all its force, as he proceeded in the " That boy, a silly, helpless creature, above address. Innocent as the young man from brutality and hard usage, is with me was of all wrong, every artful insinuation aow," rejoined Nicholas. stung, every well-considered sarcasm cut "You hear?" said Ralph, appealing to him to the quick, and when Ralph noted the mother again, " everything proved, his pale face and quivering lip, he hugged even upon his own confession. Do you himself to mark how well he had chosen choose to restore that boy, Sir?" the taunts best calculated to strike deep N' o, I do not," replied Nicholas. into a young and ardent spirit. "You do not?" sneered Rall,h. " I can't help it," cried Mrs. Nickleby, "No," repeated Nicholas, " not to the " I know you have been very good to us, man with whom I found hi-n. I would and meant to do a good deal for my dear that I knew on whom lhe has she claim of laughter. I am quite sure of that; I know NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. $11 you did, ani it was very kind of you, hav- favours, and you cannot leave us to bear ing hei at your house and all-and of them alone, without one hand t. help us." course it would have been a great thing "You will be helped when I am away," for her and for me too. But I can't, you replied Nicholas, hurriedly; "I am no help know, brother-in law, I can't renounce my to you, no protector; I should bring you own scn, even if he has done all you say nothing but sorrow, and want, and sufferhe has-it's not possible, I couldn't do it; ing. My own mother sees it, and her fondso we mulst go to rack and ruin, Kate, my ness and fears for you point to the course dear. I can bear it, I dare say." Pour- that I should take. And so all good angels ing forth these, and a perfectly wonder- bless you, Kate, till I can carry you to some fill train of other disjointed expressions of home of mine, where we may revive the regret, which no mortal power but Mrs. happiness denied to us now, and talk of Nickleby's could ever have strung togeth- these trials as of things gone by. Do not er, that lady wrung her hands, and her keep me here, but let me go at once. tears fell faster. There. Dear girl-dear girl." " Why do you say, if Nicholas has done The grasp which had detained him, rewhat they say he has, mamma?" asked laxed, and Kate fainted in his arms. NiKate, with honest anger. *' You know he cholas stooped over her for a few seconds, has not." and placing her gently in a chair, confi. I don't know what to think one way ded her to their honest friend. or other, my dear," said Mrs. Nickleby; "I need not entreat your sympathy," he " 6Nicholas is so violent, and your uncle said, wringing her hand, " for I know your has so much honest composure, that I can nature. You will never forget them." only hear what he says, and not what Ni- He stepped up to Ralph, who remained cholas does. Never-,mind, don't let us in the same attitude which he had pre. talk any more about it. We can go to the served throughout the interview, and Workhouse, or the Refuge for the Desti- moved not a finger. tute, or the Magdalen I-ospital, I dare "Whatever step you take, Sir," he said, say; and the sooner we go the better." in a voice inaudible beyond themselves, With this extraordinary jumble of charit- "I will keep a strict account of. I leave able institutions, Mrs. Nickleby again them to you, at your desire. There will gave way to her tears. be a day of reckoning sooner or later, anal " Stay," said Nicholas, as Ralph'turned it will be a heavy one for you if they are to go. "You need not leave this place, wronged." Sir, fir it will be relieved of my presence Ralph did not allow a muscle of his face in one minute: and it will be long, very to indicate that he heard one word of this long, before I darken these doors again." parting address. IIe hardly knew that it "' Nicholas," cried Kate, throwing her- was concluded, and Mrs. Nickleby had self on her trother's shoulder, and clasp- scarcely made up her mind to detain her ing him in her arms, "' do not say so. My son by force if necessary, when Nicholas dear brother, you will break my heart. was gone. Mamma, speak to him. Do not mind her, As he hurried through the streets to his Nicholas, she does not mean it, you should obscure lodging, seeking to keep pace, as know her better. Uncle, somebody, for it were, with the rapidity of the thoughts God's sake, speak to him." which crowded upon-him, many doubts and " I never meant, Kate," said Nicholas, hesitations arose in his mind and almost tenderly, " I never meant to stay among tempted him to return. But what would you; think better of me than to suppose. they gain by this? Supposing lie were to it. possible. I may turn my back on this put Ralph Nickleby at defiance, and welre town a few hours sooner than I intended, even fortunate enough to obtain some small but what of that? We shall not forget. employment, his being with them could each other apart, and better days will come only render their present condition worse,,when we shall part no more. Be awoman, and migh greatly impairtheir future pros. Kate," he whispered, proudly, " and do pects, for his mother had spoken of some not make me one while he looks on." new kindnesses towardsKatewhich shehadl "No, no, I will not," said Kate, eagerly, not denied. " No," thought Nicholas, " I "but you will not leave us. Oh i think of have acted for the best." all the happy days we have had together, But before he had gone five hundred before these terrible misfortunescame upon yards, some other and different feeling'us; of all the comfort and happiness of would come upon him, and then he would home, and the trials we have to bear now: lag again, and pulling hishat over his eyes, of our having no protector under all the gave way to the melancholy reflections slights and wrongs that poverty so much which pressed thickly upon him. To have 1012 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. committed no fault, and yet to he so en- "No," said Smnike, shaking his head tirely alone in the world; to be separated mournfully; "I must talk of something from the only persons he loved, and to be else to-day." proscribed like a criminal,when six months " Of whatyou like," replied Nicholas, ago he had been surrounded by every com- good-humoqredly. fort, and looked up to as the chief hope of "Of this," said Smike. "I know you his family-this was hard to bear. He had are unhappy, and have got into great trounot deserved it either. Well, there was ble by bringing me away, I ought to have comfort in that; and poor Nicholas would known that, and stopped behind —I would, orighten up again, to be again depressed, indeed, if I had thought it then. You1s his quickly-shifting thoughts presented you-are not rich; you have not enough every variety of light and shade before him. for yourself, and I should not be here. You Undergoing these alternations of hope grow," said the lad, laying his hand timidand misgiving, which fio one, placed in a ly on that of Nicholas, " you grow thinner situation of even ordinary trial, can fail every day; your cheek is paler, and your uo have experienced, Nicholas at length eye more sunk. Indeed I cannot bear to reached his poor room, where, no longer see you so, and think how I am burdening borne up by the excitement which had you. I tried to go away to-day, but the hitherto sustained him, but depressed by thought of your kind face drew me back. the revulsion of feeling it left behind, he I could not leave you without a word." threw himself on the bed, and turning his The poor fellow could get no further, for face to the wall, gave free vent to the emo- his eyes filled with tears, and his voice tions he had so long stifled. was gone. EIe had not heard any body enter, and "The word which separates us," said was unconscious of the presence of Smike, Nicholas, grasping him heartily by the until, happening to raise his head, he saw shoulder, " shall never be said by me, for him standing at the upper end of the room, you are my only comfort and stay. I would looking wistfully towards him. He with- not lose you now, for all the world could drew his eyes when he saw that he was give. The thought of you has upheld me observed, and affected to be busied with through all I have endured to-day, and some scanty preparations for dinner. shall, through fifty times such trouble. " Well, Smike," said Nicholas, as cheer- Give me your hand. My heart is linked fully as he could speak, " let me hear what to yours. We will journey from this place new acquaintances you have made this together, before the week is out. What, morning, or what new wonder you have if I am steeped in poverty? You lighten found out in the compass of this street it, and we will be poor together." and thil next one." NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. i3 CHAPTER XXI. MADAM.E A ANTATINI FINDS HERSELF IN A SITUATION OF SOME 1 IFFICULTY AND MISS NICKLEBY FINDS HERSELF IN NO SITUATION AT ALL.'rTxn agitation she had undergone ren- " Not exactly ill, but worried, child.dored Kate Nickleby unable to resume her worried," rejoined Madame. duties at the dress-maker's for three days, "I am still more sorry to hear that,' at the expiration of which interval she be- said Kate, gently. " Bodily illness is took herself at the accustomed hour, and more easy to hear than mental." with languid steps, to the temple of fashion "iAh i and it's much easier to talk than where Madame Maantalini reigned para- to bear either," said Madame rubbing her mount and supreme. nose with much irritability of manier. The ill-will of Miss Knag had lost noth- " There, get to your work, child, and plt ing of its virulence in the interval, for the things in order, do." the young ladies still scrupulously shrank While Kate was wondering witnin herfrom all companionship with their de- self what these symptoms of unusual vexnounced associate; and when that exem- ation portended, Mr. Mantalini put the plary female arrived a few minutes after- tips of his whiskers, and by degreqs his wards, she was at no pains to conceal the head, through the half-open door, and cried displeasure with which she regarded Kate's in a soft voicereturn. "Is my life and soul there?" " Upon my word!" said Miss Knag, as " No," replied his wife. the satellites flocked round to relieve her " How can it say so, when it is bloomof her bonnet and shawl; " I should have ing in the front room like a little rose, in thought some people would have had spir- a demnition flower-pot?" urged Mantaliit enough to stop away altogether, when ni. "May its poppet come in and talk I" they know what an incumbrance their "Certainly not," replied Madame; "you presence is to right-minded persons. But know I never allow you here. Go along." it's a queer world; oh! it's a queer world i" The poppet, however, encouraged perMiss Knag having passed this comment haps by the relenting tone of this reply, on the world, in the tone in which most ventured to rebel, and, stealing into the pe Iple do pass comments on the world room, made towards Madame Mantalini when they are out of temper, that is to on tiptoe, blowing her a kiss as he came say, as if they by no means belonged to it, along. concluded by heaving a sigh, wherewith "Why will it vex itself, and twist its she seemed meekly to compassionate the little face into bewitching nutcrackers?" wickedness of mankind. said Mantalini, putting his left arm round The attendants were not slow to echo the waist of his life and soul, and drawthe sigh, and Miss Knag was apparently ing her towards him with his right. on the eve of favouring them with some "Oh! I can't bear you," replied his wife. further moral reflections, when the voice "Not —eh, not bear me!" exclaimed of Madame Mantalini, conveyed through Mantalini. "Fibs, fibs. It couldn't be. the speaking-tube, ordered Miss Nickleby There's not a woman alive that could tell up stairs to assist in the arrangement of me such a thing to my face-to my own the show-room; a distinction which caused face." Mr. Mantalini stroked his chin as Miss Knag to toss her head so much, and he said this, and glanced complacently at bite her lips so hard, that her powers of an opposite mirror. -nversation were for the time annihilated. "Such destructive extravagance," rea. "Well Miss Nickleby, child," said Ma- soned his wife, in a low tone. dame Mantalini, when Kate presented "All in its joy at having gained such a herself; " are you quite well again?" lo-ely creature, such a little Venus, such a "A great deal better, thank you," re- demd enchanting, bewitching, engrossing, plied (ate. captivating little Venus," said Mantalini. I" I wish I could say the-samne," remarked " See what f situation you have placed Madame Mantalini, seating herself with me in!" urged Madame. an. air of weariness. "No harm will come, no harm shall "Are you ill?" asked RKte. "I am cometo itsowndarling," rejoinedMr. Maniorry for that." talini. " It is all oven, there will be no. 8.4 NICIIOLAS NICKLEIBY. thing the matter; money shall be got in, I " Wait a minnit," said the man in the and if it don't come in fast enough, old green coat, closing it softly, and st'e(lilog Nickleby shall stump up again, or have with his back against it. " This is an ntnhis jugu lar separated if he -dares to vex pleasant business. Vere'syourgovvernil?" and hurt the little-" " My what-did you say?" asked Kate, "u;shi " interposed Madame. "Don't trembling; for she thought " gove-fLlor" you see?" might be slang for watch or money. Mr. Mantalini, who, in his eagerness to " Mister Muntlehiney," said the man. make up matters with his wife, had over- " Wot's come of him? Is he at honle?" looked, or feigrned to overlook Miss Nick- " Ie is above stairs, I believe," re plied leby hitherto, took the hint, and laying his Kate, a little reassured by this inquiry. finger on his lip, sunk his voice still lower. ".Do you want him?" There was then a great deal of whispering, No," replied the visitor. " I don't ezdurinlfg which Madame Mantalini appoared actly want him, if it's made a favour on. to make reference more than once to cer- You can't jist give him that'ere card, and tain debts incurred by -Mr. Manttlini pre-! tell him if he wants to speak to me, and vious to her coverture, and also to an un- save trouble, here I am, that's all." expected outlay of money in payment of With these words the stranger r:nt a the af!oresaid debts; and furthermore, to thick square card into Kate's han-', and certain tagreeable weaknesses on that gen- turning to his friend remarked, witil an tlemlan's part, such as gaming, wasting, easy air, " that the rooms was a good high idling, andl a tendency to horseflesh; each pitch;" to which the friend assented, adof which matters of accusation Mr. ian- ding, by way of illustration, " that there talini disposed of by one kiss or more, as was lots of room for a little boy to grow its relative importance demanded, and the up a man in either on'em, vithout much upshot of it all was,.that Madame Man- fear of his ever bringing his head into talini was in raptures with him, and that contact with the ceiling." they went up stairs to breakfast. After ringing the bell which would sumKate busied herself in what she had to mon Madame Mantalini, Kate glanced at do, and was silently arranging the various the card, and saw that it displayed the articles of decoration in the best taste she name of " Scaley," together with some could display, when she started to hear a other information to which she had not had strange man's voice in the room; and start- time to refer, when her attention wasait ed again to observe, on looking round, that tracted by Mr. Scaley himself, who, walk a white hat, and a red neckerchief, and a ing up to one of the cheval glasses, gave broad round face, and a large head, and it a hard poke in the centre with his stick, a part of a green coat, were ill the room too. as coollyas if ithad been made of cast iron. iDon't alarm yourself, Miss," said the " Good plate this here, Tix," said Mr. proprietor of these appearances. " I say; Scaley, to his friend. this here's the mantie-making con-samn, " Ah!" rejoined Mr. Tix, placing the an't it?" marks of his four fingers, and a duplicate Y es," rejoined Kate, greatly aston- impression of his thumb on a piece of ished. "What did you want?"' sky-blue silk; "and this here article The stranger answered not; but first warn't made for nothing, mind you." looking, back, as though to beckon to some From the silk Mr. Tix transferred his unseen person outside, came very delibe- admiration to some elegant articles of rately int the roomiand was followed by a wearing apparel, while Mr. Scaley adjusted little tman in brown, very much the worse his neckclotUi at leisure before the glass, for welar, who brought with him a mingled and afterwards, aided by its reflection, fumigation of stale tobacco and fresh oni- proceeded to the minute consideration of ons. The clothes of this gentleman were a pimple on his chin: in which absorbing much bespeckled with flue; and his shoes, occupation he was yet engaged wheil stockings, and nether garments, from his Madame Mantalini entering the room, heels to the waist-buttons of his coat inclu- uttered an exclamation of surprise which sive, were profusely embroidered with spla- roused him. shes of mud, caught a fortnight previous- "Oh Il is this the missis?" inquired before the setting in of the fine weather. Scaley. Kate's very natural impression. s, that " It is Madame Mantalini," said Kate. these engaging individuals had called with " Then," said Mr. Scaley, producing a the view of possessing themselves unlaw- small document from his pocket and unfully of any portable articles that chanced folding it very slowly, " this is a writ of to strike their fanpy. She did not attempt execution, and if it's not eonwenient to to disguise her apprehensions, and made settle, we'll go over the house at wunst, a move towards the door. please, and take the inwentorl." NICHOLAS NiCKLEBY li Poor Madame Mantalini wrungher hands talke the inventory, in which delicate task for grief, and rung the bell for her husband; he was materially assisted by the,incom. which done, she fell into a chair and a mon tact and experience of Mr. Tix, thile fainting fit simultaneously. The profes- broker. sional gentlemen, however, were not at all " My cup of happiness's sweetener," said discomposed by this event, for Mr. Scaley, Mantalini, approaching his wife, with a leaning upon a stand on which a handsome pertinent air; "will you listen to me for dress was displayed, (so that his shoulders two minutes?" appeared above it in nearly the same man-;'Oh! don't speak to me," replied the ner as the shoulders of the lady for whom wife, sobbing. " You have ruined sme, all's it was designed would have done if she that's enough." had it on) pushed his hat on one side and Mr. Mantalini, who had doubtless weil scratched his head with perfect unconcern, considered his part, no sooner heard these while his friend Mr. Tix, taking that op- words pronounced in a tone of grief and se. portunity for a general survey of the apart- verity, than he recoiled several paces, asment preparatory to entering upon busi- sumed an expression of consuming mental ness, stood with his inventory-book under agony, rushed headlong from the room, and his arm and his hat in his hand, mentally was soon afterwards heard to slam. the door occu'pied in putting a price upon every ob- of an up stairs dressing-room, with great ject within his range of vision. violence. Such was the posture of affairs when "Miss Nickleby," said Madame MantaMr. Mantalini hurried in, and as that dis- lini, when this sound met her ear, "make tinguished specimen had had a pretty ex- haste for Heaven's sake, he will destroy tensive intercourse with Mr. Scaley's fra- himself! I spoke unkindly to him, and he ternity in his bachelor days, and was, cannot bear it from me. Alfred, my darbesides, very far from being taken by sur- ling Alfred." prise on the present agitating occasion, he With such exclamations she hurried up merely shrugged his shoulders, thrust his stairs, followed by Kate; who, although she han-ds down to the bottom of his pockets, did not quite participate in the fond wife's elevated. his eyebrows, whistled a bar or apprehensions, was a little flurried nevertw.3, swore an oath or two, and, sitting theless. The dressing-room door being sst:ide upon a chair, put the best face upon hastily flung open, Mr. Mantalini was dithe matter with great composure and de- closed to view with his shirt-collar symm-e cenly. trically thrown back, putting a fine edge "What's the demd total!" was the first to a breakfast-knife by means cf his razor question he asked. strop. "Fifteen hundred and twenty-seven "Ah!" cried Mr. Mlantalini, "interrupt, pound, four and ninepence ha'penny," re- ed!" and whisk went the breakfast-knife. plied Mr. Scaley, without moving a limb. into Mr. Mantalini's dressing-gown pocket, "The halfpenny be demd," said Mr. while Mr. Mantalini's eyes rolled wildly, Mantalini, impatiently. and his hair floating in wild disorder, lain"Bv all means if you vish it," retorted gled with his whiskers. Mr. Scaley; "and the ninepence too." "Alfred," cried his wife, flinging her "It don't matter to us if the fifteen hun- arms about him, "I didn't mean to say it, I dred and twenty-seven pound went along didn't mean to say it." with it, that I know on," observed Mr. Tix. "Ruined!" cried Mr Mantalini. " Have "Not a button," said Scaley. I brought ruin upon the best and purest " Well;" said the same gentleman, after creature that ever blessed a demnition vagaa pause, " Wot's to be done-anythinkl bond! Demmit, let me go." At this cri Is it only a small crack, or a out-and-out sis of his ravings Mr. Mantalini made a snm-ash? A break-up of the constitootion is pluck at the breakfast-knife, and being reit-wverry good. Then Mr. Tom Tix, esk- strained by his wife's grasp, attempted to sire, you must inform your angel wife and dash his head against the wall-taking very lovely family as you won't sleep at home good care to be at least six feet from it, for three nights to come, along of being in however. possession here. Wot's the good of the " Compose yourself, my own angel," said lady' a fretting herself?" continued Mr. Madame. "It was nobody's fault; it wa Scaley, as Madame Mantalini sobbed. "A mine as much as yours, we shall do very good half of wot's here isn't paid for I des- well yet. Come, Alfred, come." say, an'd wot a consolation oughtn't that to Mr. Mantalini did not think proper to be to her feelings!" come to all at once; but after calling seveWithl these remarks, combining great ral times for poison, and requesting some pleasantry with sound moral ercouragement lady or gentleman to blow his brains out, under difficulties, Mr. Scaley proceeded to gentler feelings same upon him. and ne 9 ;36 N1ChIOLAS NICKLEBY. wept pathetically. In this softened frname and at last ventured to inquire what dlicoof mind ihe did not oppose the capture of very had been made. The truth then came rhe knif —which, to tell the truth, he was I out. Mrs. Nickleby had that morning hars rather glad to be rid of, as an inconvenient a yesterday newspaper of the very first reand dangerous article for a skirt pocket- spectability, fiorn the public-house where and finally he suffered i}Vlf to be led the porter came from, and in this yester away by hi-s affectionate ptnrler. day's newspaper was an advertisement. After a delay of two or three hours, the couched in the purest and most granmmati young ladies were informed that their ser- cal Enolish, announcingr that a married ladIy vices would be dispensed with until further was in want of a genteel youlng per:son ra notice, and at the expiration of two days a companion, and that the married ladv'y' the name of Mantalini appeared in the list name and address was to be known on apt of bankrupts; Miss Nickleby receiving an plication at a certain library at the west intimation per post on the same morning, end of the town, therein mentioned. th.at the business would be in future carried "And I say," exclaimed Mrs. Nickleby, on under the name of Miss Knag, and that laying the paper down in triumph, "that her assistance would no longer be required if your uncle don't object, it's well worth -a piece of intelligence with which Mrs. the trial." Nickleby was no sooner made acquainted, Kate was too sick at heart, after the tilan that good lady declared she had ex- rough jostling she had already had with the pected it all along, and cited divers un- worlid, and really cared too little at the moknown occasions on which she had prophe- ment what fate was reserved for her, to ~ied to that precise effect. make any objection.' Mr. Ralph Nickleby " And I say again," remarked Mrs. Nic- offered none, but on the contrary highly kleby (who, it is scarcely necessary to ob- approved of the suggestion; neither did he serve, had never said so before), "I say express any great surprise at Madame Managain, that a milliner's and dress.maker's talini's sudden failure, indeed it would have is the very last description ofbusiness, Kate. been strange if he had, inasmuch as it had that you should have thought of attaching been procured and brought about chiefly by yourself to. I don't make it a reproach to himself. So the name and address were you, my love; but still I will say, that if obtained without loss of time, and Miss you had consulted your own mother-" Nickleby and her mamma went in quest of " Well, well, mamma," said Kate, mildly; Mrs. Wititterly, of Cadogan Place, Sloane "what would you recommend now " Street, that same forenoon. "Recommend!" cried Mrs. Nickleby, Cadogan Place is the one slight bone that " isn't it obvious, my dear, that of all occu.. joins two g-reat extremes; it is the connations in this workl for a young lady situ- necting link between the aristocratic pave. a ted as you are, that of companion to some ments of Belgrave Square and the barbaamiable young lady is the very thing for rismn of Chelsea. It is in Sloane Street, which your education, and manners, and but not of it. The people in Cadogan Place personal appearance, and everything else, look down upon Sloane Street, and think exactly qualify you 3 Did you never hear ] Brompton low. They affect fashion too, your dear papa speak of the young laiy and wonder where the New Road is. Not who was the daughter of the old lady who that they claimn to be on precisely the sarne boarded in the same house that he boarded fiotinf as the lligh folks of Belgrave Square in once, when he 4was a bachelor-what and Grosvenor Place, but that they stand was her name again? I know it began with reference to them rather in the light with'a B, and ended with a g, but whether of those illegitimate children of the great it was Waters or-no it couldn't have been who are content to boast of their connexthat either; but whatever her name was, ions, although their connexions disavow don't you know that that young lady went them. Wearing as much as they can of the as companion to a married lady who died airs and semblances of loftiest rank, the pesoon afterwards, and that sihe married the ple of Cadogan Place have the realities of husband, and had one of the finest little middle station. It is the conductor which boys that the medical man ha.d ever seen — communica.tes to the inhabitants of regiol, all within eighteen months?" beyond its limnt, the shock of pride of birth Kate knew perfectly well that this tor- and rank, which it has not within itself, butl sent of favourable recollection was occa- derives from a fountain-head beyond; or, dioned by some opening, real or imaginary, like the ligament which unites the Siameee which her mother had discovered in the twins, it contains something of the life and companionship walk of life. She therefore essence of two distinct bodies, and yet bewaited very patiently until all reminis- longs to neither. cences and anecdotes, bearing or not bear- Upon this dc'ibtful ground lived Mrs. ng upon the su )ject, had been exhausted, Wititterly, and at Mrs. Wititterlv's dloo NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 137 nate Nickleby knocked with trembling. know what to say. You have never been iand. The door was opened by a big foot- a companion before, have you!" nrmn, with his head floured, or chalked, or I Mrs. Nickleby, who had been eagerly painted in some way (it didn't looir genuine watching her opportunity, came dexterousp,;wder), and the big footman, receiving the ly in before Kate could reply. "Not to'a rd of introduction, gave it to a little page; any stranger, ma'am," said the good lady; A! little indeed that his body would not hold, 6" but she has been a companion -to me for i1, ordinary array, the number of small but- some years. 1 am her mother, ma'am."'tA s which are indispensable to a page's "Oh!" said Mrs. Wititterly, "I apprecst.ume, and they were consequently hend you." o;:liged to be stuck on four abreast. This "I assure you. ma'am," said Mrs. NickloR:ung gentleman took the card up-stairs on by, "that I very little thought at one time s9 alver, and pending his return, Kate and that it would be necessary for my daughter her mother were shown into a dining-room to go out into the world at all, for her poor;d rather dirty and shabby aspect, and so dear papa was an independent gentleman, comfortably arranged as to be adapted to and would have been at this moment if he almost any purpose except eating and drink- had but listened in time to my constant enUag. treaties and " Now, in the ordinary course of things "D)ear mamma," said Kate, in a low and according to all authentic descriptions voice. of high life, as set forth in books, Mrs. Wit- "My dear Kate, if you will allow me to itterly ought to have been in her boudoir; speak," said Mrs. Nickleby, "I shall take -but whether it was that Mr. Wititterly the liberty of explaining to this lady - was at that moment shaving himself in the "I think it is almost unnecessary, mamboudoir or what not, certain it is that Mrs. ma." Wititterly gave audience in the drawing- And notwithstanding all the frowns and room, where was everything proper and ne- winks with which Mrs. Nickleby intimated cessary, including curtains and furniture that she was going to say something which coverings of a roseate hue, to shed a deli- would clench the business at once, Kate cate bloom on Mrs. Wititterly's complex- maintained her point by an expressive look, ion, and a little dog to snap at strangers' and for once Mrs. Nickleby was stopped legs for Mrs. Wititterly's amusement, and upon the very brink of an oration. the afore-mentioned page, to hand chocolate " What are your accomplishments?" for Mrs. Wititterly's refreshment. asked Mrs. Wititterly, with her eyes shut The lady had an air of sweet insipidity, Kate blushed as she mentioned her prin. and a face of engaging paleness; there was cipal acquirements, and Mrs. Nickleby a faded look about her, and about the fur- checked them all off, one by one, on her nature, and about the house altogether. fingers, having calculated the number beShe was reclining on a sofa in such a very fore she came out. Luckily the two calunstudied attitude, that she might have culations agreed, so Mrs. Nickleby had no been taken for an actress all ready for the excuse for talking. tirst scene in a ballet, and only waiting for "You are a good temper " asked Mrs. the drop-curtain to go up. Wititterly, opening her eyes for an instant, "Place chairs." and shutting them again. The page placed them. "I hope so," rejoined Kate. " Leave the room, Alphonse." "And have a highly respectable referThe pge left it; but if there were an ence for everything, have you?" Alphonse who carried plain Bill in his face Kate replied that she had, and laid her and figure, that page was the boy. uncle's card upon the table. " I have ventured to call, ma'am," said " Have the goodness to draw your chair Kate, after a few seconds of awkward si- a little nearer, and let me look at you," lence, " from having seen your advertise- said Mrs. Wititterly; " I am so very nearment." sighted that I can't quite discern your fea"Yes," replied Mrs. Wititterly, "one of tures." my people put it in the paper. —Yes." Kate complied, though not without some'I thought, perhaps," said Kate, modest- embarrassment, with this request, and Mrs. ly, "that if you had not already made a Wititterly took a languid survey of her final choice, you would forgive my trou- countenance, which lasted some two o: bling you with an application." three minutes. " Yes," drawled Mrs. Wititterly again. "I like your appearance" said that lady, "If you have already made a selec- ringing a little bell. "Alpionse, request tior —-" your master to come here." "Oh dear, no," interrupted the lady, " I The page disappeared on this eranu, am fit sc easily swited. 1 really don't and after a short interva.. during. whicl noW 1:38 ~ I ~ NICHO LAS NICKLEBY. a word was spoken on either side, opened their two hearers, with an, xpression ot thle door for an important gentleman of countenance which seemed to say, ",' at about eight-and-thirty, of rather plebeian lJo you think of all that?" countenance and with a very light head of "Mrs. Wititterly," said her hulsbar c, adhair, who leant over Mrs. Wititterly for a Iressing himself to Mrs. Niceleby "is little time, and conversed with her in whis- sought after and courted by glittering pers. crowds and brilliant circles. She is exci" Oh!" he said, turning round, " Yes. I ted by the opera, the drama, the fine arts, This is a most important matter. Mrs. the-the-the —" Wititferly is of a very excitable nature, " The nobility, my love," interposed Mrs. very delicate, very fragile; a hot-house Wititterly. plant, an exotic." " The nobility, of course," said Mr. Wit" Oh! Henry, my dear," interposed Mrs. itterly. "And the military. She forms Wititterly. and expresses an immense variety of opi.'You are my love, you know you are; nions, on an immense variety of subjects. one breath-" said Mr. W., blowing an If some people in public life were acquaintimaginary feather away. "Pho! you're ed with Mrs. WVititterly's real opinion of gone." them, they would not hold their heads per. The lady sighed. haps quite as high as they do." 1" Your sotl is too large for your body," " Hush, Henry," said the lady; " this is said Mr. Wititterly. " Your intellect wears scarcely fair." you out; all the medical men say so; you "I mention no names, Julia," replied know that there is not a physician who is Mr. Wititterly; "and nobody is injured. I not proud of being called in to you. What merely mention the circumstance to show is their unanimous declaration 1' My dear that you are not an ordinary person; that doctor,' said I to Sir Tumley Snuffim, in there is a constant friction perpetually gothis very room, the very last time he came. ing on between your mind and your body;' My dear doctor, what is my wife's corn- and that you must be soothed and tended. plaint? Tell me all. I can bear it. Is it Now let me hear dispassionately and calm. nerves''My dear fellow,' he said,'be ly, what are this young lady's qualifications proud of that woman; make much of her; for the office." she is an ornament to the fashionable world, In obedience to this request, the qualifi. and to you. Her complaint is soul. It cations were all gone through again, with swells, expands, dilates-the blood fires, the addition of many interruptions and cross the pulse quickens, the excitement in- questionings from'Mr. Wititterly. It was creases-Whew!"' Here Mr. Wititterly, finally arranged that inquiries should be who, in the ardour of his description, had made, and a decisive answer addressed to flourished his right hand to within some- Miss Nickleby, under cover to her uncle, thing less than an inch of Mrs. Nickleby's within two days. These conditions agreed bonnet, drew it hastily back again, and upon, the page showed them down as far -blew his nose as fiercely as if it had been as the staircase window, and the big footdone by some violent machinery. man relieving guard at that point'piloted "You make me out worse than I am, them in perfect safety to the street-door. Henry," said Mrs. Wititterly, with a faint "They are very distinguished people, smile. evidently," said Mrs. Nickleby, as she took "I do not, Julia, I do not," said Mr. W. her daughter's arm. "What a superior *"The society in which you move-neces- person Mrs. Wititterly is!" sarily move, from your station, connexion, "Do you think so, mamma?l" was all and endowments-is one vortex and whirl- Kate's reply. pool of the most frightful excitement. Bless " Why who can help thinking so, Kate, my heart and body, can I ever forget the my love." rejoined her mother. " She is night you danced with the' baronet's ne- pale, though, and looks much exhausted. I phew, at the election ball, at Exeter? It hope she may not be wearing herself out, was tremendous." but I am very much afraid." " I always suffer for these triumphs after- These considerations led the deep-signted wards," said Mrs. Wititterly. lady into a calculation of the probable dura& "And for that very reason," rejoined her tion of Mrs. Wititterly's life, and the husband, "you must have a companion, in chances of the disconsolate widower bewhom there is great gentleness, great stowing his hand on her daughter. Before sweetness, excessive sympathy, and perfect reaching home, she had freed Mrs. Witrepose." itterly's soul from all bodily restraint, marHere both Mr. and Mrs. Wititterly, who ried Kabe with great splendour at Saint had talked rather at the Nicklebys than'to George's, Hanover Square; and only left each other, left off speaking, and looked at undecided the minor question whether a NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 13X9 bplendid nimhogany bedstead should be The inquiries were made. The answererected for herself in the two-pair back of not to Kate's very great joy-was favoura the house in Cadogan Place, or in the ble; and at the expiration of a week she three-pair front, between whl -h apartments betook herself, with all her moveables she could not quite balance the advantages, and valuables, to Mrs. Wititterly's man. and therefore adjusted the question at last, sion, where for the present we will leave by determining to leave it to the decision her. of her son-in-law. CHAPTER XXII. NICHOLAS, ACCOMPANIED BY SMIKE, SALLIES FORTH TO SEEK HIS FORTUrE. HE ENCOUNTERS MR. VINCENT CRUM*ES; AND WHO HE WAS IS HEREIN MADE MANIFEST. THE whole capital which Nicholas found city, and stood beneath the windows of his himself entitled to, either in possession, re- mother's house. It was dull and bare tc version, remainder, or expectancy, after see, but it had light and life for him; for paying his rent and settling-with the broker there was at least one heart within its old from whom he had hired his poor furniture, walls to which insult or dishonour would did not exceed by more than a few half- bring the same blood rushing that flowed pence the sum of twenty shillings. And in his own veins. yet he hailed the morning on which he had He crossed the road, and raised his eyes resolved to quit London with a light heart, to the window of the room where he knew and sprang from his bed with an elasticity his sister slept. It was closed and dark. of spirit which is happily the lot of young " Poor girl," thought Nicholas, "she little persons, or the world would never be thinks who lingers here!" stocked with old ones. He looked again, and felt for the moment It was a cold, dry, foggy morning in early almost vexed that Kate was not there tc spring; a few meagre shadows flitted to exchange one word at parting. "Good and fro in the misty streets, and occasion- God!" he thought, suddenly correcting aly there loomed through the dull vapour himself, "what a boy I am!" the heavy outline of some hackney-coach " It is better as it is," said Nicholas, after wending homewards, which drawing slowly he had lounged on a few paces and return. nearer, rolled jangling by, scattering the ed to the same spot. "C When I left them thin crust of frost fromn its whitened roof, before, and could have said good bye a and soon was lost again in the cloud. At thousand times if I had chosen, I spared intervals were heard the tread of slipshod them the pain of leave-taking, and why feet, and the chilly cry of the poor sweep not now?" As he spoke, some fancied as he crept shivering to his early toil; the motion of the curtain almost persuaded heavy footfall of the official watcher of the him, for the instant, that Kate was at the night pacing slowly up and down and curs- window, and by one of those strange coning the tardy hours that still intervened be- tradictions of feeling which are common tween him and sleep: the rumbling of to us all, he shrunk involuntarily into a ponderous carts and wagons, the roil of door-way, that she might not see him. He the lighter vehicles which carried buyers smiled at his own weakness; said "God and sellers to the different markets: the bless them!" and walked away with a sound of ineffectual knocking at the doors lighter step. of heavy sleepers-all these noises fell Smike was anxiously expecting him upon the ear from time to time, but all when he reached his old lodgings, and so seemed muffled by the fog, and to be ren- was Newman, who had expended a day's dered almost as indistinct to the ear as was income in a can of rum and milk to preevery object to the sight. The sluggish pare them for the journey. They had tied larkness thickened as the day came on: up the luggage, Smike shouldered it, and and those who had the courage to rise and away they went, with Newman Noggs in peep at the gloomy street from their cur- company, for he had insisted on walking a* tained windows, crept back to bed again, far as he could with them, over-night. and coiled themselves up to s'eep. "Which way." asked Newmmal, wistfully. Before even these indications of approach- "To Kingston first," replied Nicholas. tng morning were rife in busy London, "And where afterwards?" asked New; Nicdhlas had made his way alone to the man. "Why won't you tell me!" 140 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. "Because I sca'cely know myself, good "God knows you are.'.".;joirftt Noiclo. friend," rejoined Nicholas, laying his hand "as; " and if you fail, it shall go hard but upon his shoulder; "and if I did, I have'11 do enough for us both." neither plan nor prospect yet, and might "Do we go all the way to-day?" asked shift my quarters a hundred times before Smike, after a short silence. you could possibly communicate with me." "That would be too severe a trial, even " 1 am afraid you have some deep scheme for your willing legs," said Nicholas, with in your head," said Newman, doubtfully. a good-humoured smile. " No. Godalming " So deep," replied his young friend, is some thirty and odd miles fiom London"that even I can't fathom it. Whatever I as I found fromi a map I borrowed-and I resolve upon, depend upon it I will write purpose to rest there. We must push on you soon." again to-morrow, for we are not rich enugb "You won't forget?" said Newman. to loiter. Let me relieve you of that bundle,'I am not very likely to," rejoined come." Nicholas. "I have not so many friends "No, no," rejoined Smike, falling back that 1 shall grow confused among the num, a few steps. " Don't ask me to give it up ber, and forget my best one." to you." Occupied in such discourse as this they "Why not," asked Nicholas. walked on for a couple of hours, as they "Let me do something for you, at least," might have done for a couple of days if said Smike. " You will never let me serve Nicholas had not sat himself down on a you as I ought. You will never know how stone by the way-side, and resolutely de- I think, day and night, of ways to please dared his intention of not moving another you." step until Newman Noggs turned back. "You are a foolish fellow to say it, for I Having pleaded inffectually, first for another know it well, and see it, or I should be a half-mile, and afterwards for another quarter, blind and senseless beast," rejoined N;choNewman was fain tocomply, and to shape his las. " Let me ask you a question while I course towards Golden Square, after inter- think of it, and there is no one by," he changing many hearty and affectionate fare- added, looking him steadily in the face. wells, and many times turning back to wave " Have you a good memory?" his hat to the two wayfarers when they " I don't know," said Smike, shaking his had become mere specks in the distance. head sorrowfully. " I think I had once; "Now listen to me, Smike," said Nicho- but it's all gone now-all gone." las, as they trudged with stout hearts on- " Why do you think you had once?" wards. "' We are bound for Portsmouth." asked Nicholas, turning quickly upon him Smike nodded his head and smiled, but as though the answer in some way helped expressed no other emotion; for whether out the purport of his question. they had been bound for Portsmouth or "Because I could rememberw'hen I was Port Royal would have been alike to him, a child," said Smike, " but that is very, so they had'been bound together. very long ago, or at least it seems so. i "I don't know much of these matters," was always confused and giddy at that resumed Nicholas; "but Portsmouth is a place you took me from; and could never sea-port town, and if no other employment remember, and sometimes couldn't even is to be obtained, I should think we might understand what they said to me. I-let get an board of some ship. I am young me see-let me see." and active, and could be useful in many " You are wandering now," said Nichowavs. So could you." las, touching him on the arm. "I hope so," replied Smike. "When I "No," replied his companion, with a was at that-you know where I mean 3" vacant look. " I was only thinking how "Yes, I know," said Nicholas. "You." He shivered involuntarily as he needn't name the place." spoke. "Well, when I was there," resumed "Think no more of that place, for it it'Smike; his eyes sparkling at the prospect all over," retorted Nicholas, fixing his eye of displaying his abilities; " I could milk full upon that of his companion, which was a cow, and groom a horse, with anybody.". fast settling into an unmeaning stupified "Ha!" said Nicholas, gravely. "I am gaze, once habitual to him, and Colmllllumo afraid they don't usually keep many ani- even then. "What of the first day you reals of either kind on board ship, and even went to Yorkshire 3" when they have horses, that they are not "Eh!" cried the lad. very particular about rubbing them down; "That was before you began to losw still you can learn to do something else, you your recollection, you knr.v," said Nichoknow. Where there's a will, there'saway." las, quietly. "Was the veather hot oi'"And I am very willing," said Smike, cold?" brightening up again. Wet," re-lied the rboy'1 try wet NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 141 I have always said when it rainedl hard, eavrletl, ti i l c:tv t lXe hnpd lf,!s If':hr L;at it was like the ni;'hlt; I c;-Ime anrd V ery- b'ie:t o th Of't.' ) 1)'i oP 1.lln? Ict'ov they tso to c'r'd round arnd lauzh to eea tl-r 1 r c c:-es.r, ad ri:ti, ta to fbneod!,e cry when tihe rlin fell heavil ry. It xJ-s lr:-tter;ti' 1tiCLi tl tT!'ii i ithe qti,-J ciie a chilld, t!ev said, and that m lne imr r il habove; in l.e open coullntry it xs- think of it Irtore. I turned cold all Ovxer ce-' ndl fair.,'caoIi(-l1 in v',:-lne /,.;w -i 1ciiiraes, for I co!hd see myself's I wTa- -r eots t-wey carne ipon patchel:,; of mist whihv- i ti-en, co:ninr n'lt the very s;nle dioor." the soun htad not yet driven i irn h deir k' you were then," replied Niclho'as, stron'hoIlds; but these were soo"n PS:SveS with astsumed carelessness; "IiHow was and as they laboured up the hiiils beyocnd, thdr,,t?' it wtas pleasant to look ldonn and see how " Sich a little creature," said Smike, the sluoggish mass rolled heavTily offI bhoore "that they mig'ht have had pity and mercy the cheerinr influence of day. A broald i.n upon re? only to remember it." honest sun I clihed upi the green p stt,'res "Yol li rlnt inud your way there alone!" and dlimrpled water with the senbrtl:Cee of remarked Niclholas. stLu mer, xhile it left the travellers all the " No," rejoined Sinike, " oh, no." in torating freshness of th3t early time of "i \ho was with you?" year. Tihe oround seerled elstic r!under "A man-a dark withered man; I have t elir feet tahe sheep-bells were mniu4c tc heardi them say so at the school, and I re- their ears; and exhilarated bv exercise,;neronered that before. I xvas glad to leave and stimtnl: ted by hope, thev pushed onhill. I was afrrid of him; but thevy racde WNrdl v itc the sten"pdl oF lie es. me more afraid of them, and used me Tle day wore on, and all these br.ght hardler, too." crlours seulsi'ed, and assumred a quiieter " Lok at me," said Nicholas, wishini tint, like yourir' hopes softened doviwn bv to attract his fill attention. "' There; don't time, or ycuLthfufl featurns by deorees re. turn away. Do you renmeinber no woinan, solvinr into the calm and serenity of ae. no kind gentle woman, who hring over you But they were scarcely less beautiful in once, and kissed your lips, and called you their slow decline than they had been in her childl " their prime; for nature eives to every time " No," said the poor creature, shaking anl season somrne beauties of its oxn, and his head, "no, never." firom rorning to night, as from the cradle "Nor any house but that house in York- to the grave, is but a succession of charnges shire 3" so cfentle and easy, that we can scarcely "No," rejoined the youth, with a melan- mark their prooress. iholy look: "a room-I remember I slept To Godalriminc they came at last, and in a room, a large lonesome room at the here they baroaiiied hfr two hurble be(s, top of a house, where there was a trap- and( slept soundly. In the morning they door in the ceiling. I have covered my werie astir, thouhi not quite so early as the nead with the clothes often, not to see it, sun, tind again afoot; if not xwith.ll'he for it frioghtened me, a young child, xwith frersness of yesterday, still wvith enouoh no one near at night, and I used to wonder of hope and spirit to bear them ciheerily on. what was on the other side. There was a It was a harIder dav's eiolrnev than lihat clock, too, an old clock, in one cornier. I they hadi already perf ormed, fbr there xwere remember that. I have never forgotten long- and weary hills to clilnb; and in jourthat roomin, fr when I have terrible dre!ains, nevs, as in life, it is a great deal easier tc it comes back Just as it was. I see things go down hill than up.'-However, thley kept and people in it that I had never seen then, on xwith unabated perseverance, and the but there is the room just as it used to be; hill has not yet lifted its face to heaven that never chanres." that perseverance will not gain the suinmit "Will you let me take the bunrile, of at last. noew 1" asked Nicholas, abruptly changing They; wxalked upon the rim of the Devil's the themre. Punch Bowl, and Sniike listened with i No," said Stnike, "no. Come, let us greedy interest as Nicir! as read the inwalk on." scription upon the stone xwhich, reared upeo lie quickened his pace as he said this, that wild spot, tells of a f11l and treacheapparently under the impression that they rous murder committed there by nio'ht. had been standing still durin. the wlhole The grass on which they stood had once of the previous dialoogue. Nicholas marked been dyed wvith gore, and the blotc1 of the, him closely, andt every word of this con- niurdered man lhad run (downl, cdrop by, d,, versation remained indelibly fastened in his into the holloxw which arives the place its memory. name. "' The Devil's Bowl," tfhouEht "'T, It was by this time within an hour of cholas, as he lookeFd into the v(id,'no' noon, and although a dense vapour still held fitter liquor than that!" i42 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY Onward then kept wl ith steady purpose, that it was very cold. If there had hlap and entered at length upon a wide and pened to be a bad one he would have ob> spacious tract o'f downs, with every variety served that it was very warm. of little hill and plain to changle their ver- "What can you give us for supper.' deant surface. Here, there shot up almost was Nicholas's natural question. perpendicularly into the sky a height so "XWhy-what would you like?" was the steep, as to be hardly accessible to any but landlord's no less natural answer. the sheep and goats that fed upon its sides, Nicholas suggested cold meat, but there and there stood a huge mound of green, was no cold meat-poached eggs! but there sloping and tapering off so delicately. and were no eggs-mutton chops, but there mnergirno so gently into the level mm(mdlljd, wasn't a mutton chop within three miles, that you could scarce define;1t Illtl,ib. though there had been more last week than Hills swelling above each o t miot,, io undIlt,- they knew what to do with, and would be lations shapely and uncouti,. s.;tbltt:alti an extraordinary supply the day after to. rugged, graceful and groteqmle, thrown morrow. negligently side by side, bound-.i'.Hi vi\eN' Then," said Nicholas, " I mus: leave in each direction; while frequlo v. Mth i e- tirely to you, as I would have dono at unexpected noise, there uprose r.lom the irsmi mfyou had allowed me." ground a flight of crows, who, caq;ng and i' \\ hy, then I'll tell you what," rejoined vwheeling round the nearest hills, ab it e\1n the,andlord. " There's a gentleman in certain of their course, suddenly poiiedt' the pa"r',or that's ordered a hot beef-steak themselves upon the wing and skimllnoll puldding and potatoes at nine. There's down the long vista of some opening val,.V muore of it than he can manage, and I have wvith th6 speed of very light itself. verv little Lt] ubt that if I ask leave, you By degrees the prospect receded mort can sill wliti him. I'll do that in a minand more on either hand, and as they had:rs.'" been shut out from rich and extensive: No, lo," sa it Nicholas," detaining him. scenery, so they emerged once again upon' \,oult ratllle t ait. I-at least-pshaw! the open country. The knowledge that wli~ au.tmnot I sp k;i out. HIere; you see they were drawing near their place of that t ilt, travectllllr in a very humble man. destination, gave them fresh courage to ner, audi haUe lade my way hither on foot. proceed; but the way had been difficult, It is nl.r, i ilan probable, I think, that the and they had loitered on the road, and gentleman may not relish my company; Smike was tired. Thus twilight had al- and although I am the dusty figure you ready closed in, when they turned off the see, I am too proud to thrust myself int path to the door of a road-side inn, yet his." twelve miles short of' Portsmouth. " Lord love you," said the landlord, " it' "Twelve miles, said Nicholas, leaning only ATr. Crummles; he isn't particular." with both hands on his stick, and looking " Is he not?" asked Niclholas, on whose doubtfully at Smike. mind, to tell the truth, the prospect of the " Twelve long miles," repeated the land- savoury pudding was making some impres. lord. sion. " Is it a good road 3" inquired Nicholas. " Not he," replied the landlord. " He'll "Very bad," said the landlord. As of like your way of talking, I know. Bltt course, being a landlord, he would sav. we'll soon see all about that. Just wait a "I want to get on," observed Nicholas, minute." hesitating. "I scarcely know what todo." The landlord hurried into the parlorm "I)on't let me influence you," rejoined without staying for further permission, nor the landlord. "I wouldn't go on if it was did Nicholas strive to prevent him: ~wVisely me." considering that supper under the circurn" Wouldn't you?" asked Nicholas, with stances was too serious a matter to trife the same uncertainty.. with. It was not long before the host re"Not if I knew when I was well off," turned in a condition of much excite. said the landlord. And havingcr said it he ment. pulled up his apror, put his hands into his "All ri'ht," he said in a low voicet pockets, and taking a step or two outside " I knew he would. You'll see something he door, looked down the (lark road with rather worth seeing in there. Ecod, how an assumption of great indifflerence. they ae a oin of it!" A glance at the toil-worn face of Smike'There was no time to in(]iine to aUt" uetermlined Nicholas, so without any fir- this exclanmation, which was del-vered iin a tner consideration he made up his mind to Ivery rapttmrous tone, refeureod, for le laed stayv where he was. alreadxy thrown open thile door of' the- riml,:; lThe landlord led thtrn into the kitchen, into which Nicholas, followed hb SInikei" Mal as there was a good fire lie remarked with the bundle on his shoulcer,ilhe carriel NICHOLAS N ICKLEBY. 1413 It about hinl as vlgilantly as if it had been hand and under the leg and over th(e rigut a purse of'gold,) straightltway repaired, shoulder and over the left, and xx hen the Nicholas was prepared for something short sailor made a. vigorous cut at the tab odd, but not for something-quite so odd as sailor's legs, which would have shaved the sight ho encountered. At the upper them clean off if it had taken effect, the end of the room were a couple of boys, one tall sailor jumped over the short sailor's of them very tall and the other very short, sword; wherefore to balance the matter and both dressed as sailors-or at least as thea- make it all fair, thle tall sailor administereo trical sailors, with belts, buckles, pigtails, the same cut and the short sailor jumpoea It.ld pistols complete-fighting what is over his sword. After this there was a,tiled in play-bills a terrific combat with good deal of lodging about and hitchilg two of those short broad-swords with bas- up of the inexpressibles in the absence of ket hilts which are commonly used at our braces, and then the short sailor (who was rri or theatres. The short boy had gained the moral character evidently,'lfr he always a great advantage over the tall boy, who had the best of it) made a violent demonwas reduced to mortal strait, and both were stration and closed with the tall sailor, who, overlooked by a large heavy man, perched after a few unavailing strut'gles, went against the corner of a table, who empha- down and expired in great torture as the tically adjured them to strike a little more short sailor put his foot upon his breast and fire out of the swords, and they couldn't bored a hole in him through and through. fail to bring the house down the very first "That'll be a double encore if you take night. care, boys," said Mr. Crullmles. " You " Mr. Vincent Crumtiodes," said the land- had better get your wind now, and change lord with an air of great deference. "This your clothes." is the young gentleman." Having addressed these words to the Mr. Vincent Crummles received Nicho- combatants, he saluted Nicholas, who then las with an inclination of the head, some- observed that the face of Mr. Crulnmles thing between the courtesy of a Roman was quite proportionate in size to his body; enperor and the nod of a pot companion; that he had a very full under-lip, a hoarse and bade the landlord shut the door and voice, as though he were in the habit of begone. shouting very much, and very short black " There's a picture," said Mr. Crumrmles, hair, shaved off nearly to the crown of his motioning Nicholas not to advance and head-to admit (as he afterwards learnt) spoil it. "The little'un has him; if the of his more easily wearing character wiga big'un doesn't knock under in three se- of any shape or pattern. conds he's a dead man. Do that again, "What did you think of that, sir." inboys." quired Mr. Crummles. The two combatants went to work afresh, " Very good, indeed-capital," answered and chopped away until the swords emitted Nicholas. a shower of sparks, to the great satisfaction "You won't see such boys as those very of Mr. Crummiles, who appeared to consi- often, I think," said Mr. Crummles. der this a very great point indeed. The Nicholas assented-observing, that if engagement commenced with about two they were a little better matchhundred chops administered by the short "Match!'.' cried Mr. Crummies. sailer and the tall sailor alternately, with- "I mean if they were a little more of a out pIoducing any particular result until size," said Nicholas, explaining himseif. the short sailor was chopped down on one "Size!" repeated Mr. Crummles; "why, knee, but this was nothing to him, for he it's the very essence of the combat thal worked himself about on the one knee with there should be a foot or two betwten them. the assistance of his left hand, and fought Ilow are you to get up the sympathies cf most desperately until the tall sailor chop- the audience in a legitimate manner, i. ped his sword out of his grasp. Now the there isn't a little man contendin'r against inferencc vas, that the short sailor, reduced a great one-unless there's at least five to to this extremity, would give in at once one, and we haven't hands erougrh for that and cry quarter, but instead of that he all I business in our company." of a sudden drew a large pistol from his "I see," replied Nicholas "I beg' yolur belt and presented it at the face of the tall pardon. That didn't occur to me, I consailor, who was so overcorne at this (not fess." expecting it) that he let the short sailor picks "It's the main point," sai(d Mr. Crum. up his sword and begin again. Then the mles. "I open at Portsmouth the day after chopping recommenc d, and a variety of to-morrow. If you're going there, loo1 frncy chops were aiministered on both into the theatre, and see how that'll tell," sides, such as chops dealt with the left 1 Nicholas promised to do so if he couka 144 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. tnd drawing a chair near the fire, fell intc the moment he put i s head out f'he conversation with the manager at once. practicable door in tile front grooves, tie was very talkative and communicative, 0. P." stimulated perlhltps not only by his natural "You view irnm with a professional eye," disposition, but by the spirits and water he said Nicholas, laughiing. sipped very plentifully, or the snuff which "And well I may," rejoined the mariahe took in large quantities from a piece of ger. "I never saw a young fellow so regu. whitey-brown paper in his waistcoat pocket. larly cut out for that line since I've been fie laid open his afliirs without the small- in the profession, and I played the heavy est reserve, and descanted at some length children when I was eighteen months old." upon the merits of his company, and the The appearance of the beef-steak pudacquirements of his family, of both of which ding, which came in simultaneously with the two broad-sword boys formed an ho- the junior Vincent Crurnmleses, turned the nourable portion. There was to be a gath- conversation to other matters, and indeed ering it seemed of the different ladies and for a time stopped it altogether. These gentlemen at Portsmouth on the morrow, two young gentlemen wielded their knives whither the father and sons were proceed- and foriks with scarcely less address than ing (not for the regular season, but in the their broad-swords, and as the whole party course of a wandering speculation,) after were quite as sharp set as eidt>r class of fulfilling an engagement at Guilford with weapons, there was no time for tlking the greatest applause." until the supper had been disposes of "You are going that way." asked the The master Crumlmleses had no kooner manager. swallowed the last procurable morrel of "Ye-yes," said Nicholas. "Yes, I am." food than they evinced, by various ha!f "Do you know the town at all?" inquir- suppressed yawns and stretchings of their ed the manager, who seemed to consider limbs, an obvious inclination to reti:e for himself entitled to the same confidence as the night, which Smike had betrayed still he had himself exhibited. more strongly: he having, in the tourse "No," replied Nicholas. of the meal, fallen asleep several times' Never there?" while in the very act of eating. Ni-holas "Never." therefore proposed that they should break Mr. Vincent Crummles gave a short dry up at once, but the manager would by no cough, as much as to say, " If you won't be 1 means hear of it, vowing that he haLd rro. communicative, you won't;" and took so mised himself the pleasure of inviting his many pinches of snuff from the piece of new acquaintance to share a bowl of punch, paper, one after another, that Nicholas and thlat if he declined, he should deem it quite wondered where it all went to. very unhandsome behaviour. While he was thus engaged, Mr. Crum- "Let them go," said Mr. Vincent rmles looked from time to time with great Crummles, " and we'll have it snugly &sd interest at Smike, with whom he had ap- cosily together by the fire." peared considerably struck from the first. Nicholas was not much disposed to sleep Ile had now fallen asleep, and was nodding being in truth too anxious; so, after a little in his chair. demur he accepted the offer, and hbating " Excuse my saying so," said the mana- exchanged a shake of the hand witl, the ger, leaning over to Nicholas, and sinking young Crummleses, and the manager havy his voice, "but-what a capital counte- ing on his part bestowed a most affectionnance your friend has got!" ate benediction on Smike, he sat himself "Poor fellow!" said Nicholas, with a down opposite to that gentleman by the thalf smile, "I wish it were a little more fire-side to assist in emptying the bowl, olump and less haggard." which soon afterwards appeared, steaming "Plump!" exclaimed the manager, quite in a manner which was quite exhilarating at rrified, " you'd spoil it for ever." to behold, and sending forth a moit grate "DI)o you think so " ful and inviting fragrance. "Think so, sir! Why, as he is now," But, despite the punch and the n anager.;raid the ma.nager, striking his knee em- who told a variety of stories, and smockie.i phatically; "without a pad upon his body, tobacco from a pipe, and inhaled it. in the and hardly a touch of paint upon his face, shape of snuff, with a most astoMnitirln: he'd make such an actor for the starved power, Nicholas was absent and dispirited business as was never seen in this country. His thoughts were in his old home, mae Only let him be tolerably well up in the when they reverted to his present con Apothecary in Romeo and Juliet, with the dition, the uncertainty of the mornt,, slightes ssible dab of' red on the tip of cast a gloom upon him, which his tItnisnose d he'd be certain of three rounds most efforts were unable to dispel. I isi NICHOLAS NICKLEBY 14t5 attention wandered, although hc neard "They must; but not at your age, or from the nmllagerr's voice he was deaf to what young gentlemen like you." he sald, ad.d when Mr. Vincent Crumrmles There was a pause. The countenance concladed the history of some long adven- of Nicholas fell, and he gazed ruefully:t ture with a loud lauogh, and an inquiry what the fire. Nicholas would have done under the same "Does no other profession occur to ye i, circumstances, he was obliged to make the which a young man of your figure and adbest apology in his power, and to confess dress could take up easily, and sere the his entire ignorance of all he had been world to advantage in.?" asked the man. talking about. ager. " Why so I saw," observed Mr. Crum- "No," said Nicholas, shaking his head. rules. " You're uneasy in your mind. "Why, then, I'll tell you one," said Mr. What's the matter" Crummles, throwing his pipe into the fire, Nicholas could not refrain from smiling and raising his voice. "The stage." at the abruptness of the question, but think- "The stage!" cried Nicholas, in a voice ing it scarcely worth while to parry it, almost as loud. owned that he was under some apprehen- "The theatrical profession," said Mr. sions lest he might not succeed in the ob- Vincent Crummles. "I am in the theatriject which had brought him to that part of cal profession myself, my wife is in the the country. theatrical profession. I had a dog tlhat "And what's that?" asked the manager. lived and died in it from a puppy; and my ", Getting something to do which will chaise-pony goes on in Timour the Tartar. keep me and my poor fellow-traveller in I'll bring you out, and your friend too, Say the common necessaries of life," said Nicho- the word. I want a novelty." las. "That's the truth, you guessed it "I don't know anything about it," re long ago, I dare say, so I may as well have joined Nicholas, whose breath had beer tle credit of telling it you with a good almost taken away by this sudden proposal. grace." "I never acted a part in my life, except at W'hat's to be got to do at Portsmouth school." more than anywhere else?" asked Mr. "There's genteel comedy in your *alk Vincent Crumr nles, melting the sealing- and manner, juvenile tragedy in your eye, wax on the stem of his pipe in the candle, and touch-and-go farce in your launh," aaid and rolling it out afresh with his little Mr. Vincent Crurnmles. "You'll ), am finger. well as if you had thought of nothb Cg else "There are many vessels leaving the but the lamps, from your birt- downport, I suppose," replied Nicholas. "I wards." shall try for a berth in some ship or other. Nicholas thought of the small amount There is meat and drink there, at all of small change there would rein it. in his events." pocket after paying the tavern bide and he "Salt meat and new rum; pease-pud- hesitated. ding and claff-biscuits," said the manager, " You can be useful to us in t, hundred taking a whiff at his pipe to keep it alight, ways," said Mr. Crummles. "'T'iink what and returning to his work of embellish- capital bills a man of your edia ion could ment. write for the shop-windows." "One may do worse than that," said 1"Well, I think I could mr s ge that do Nicholas. "I can rough it, I believe, as partment," said Nicholas. well as most men of my age and previous "To be sure you could,' replied Mr. habits." Crummles. "'For furtherr y,ticulars see " You need be able to," said the mana- small hand-bills'-we might have half a ger, "if you go on board ship; but you volume in every one of them. Pieces too; won't." why, you could write us a piece to bring "Why not?" out the whole strength. of the company, "Because there's not a skipper or mate whenever we wanted one." that would think you worth your salt, when "I am not quite so confident about that," he could get a practised hand." replied the replied Nicholas. "But I dare say I could manager; "and they as plentiful there as scribble something now and then that the oysters in the streets." would suit you." 1" What do you mean?" asked Nicholas,'"WVe'll have a new show-piece out (5) alarmed by this prediction, and the confi- rectly," said the manager. " Iet me see — dent tone in which it had been uttered. peculiar resources of this establishment"Men are not born able seamen. They new and splendid scenery-you must inar must be reared, I suppose'!" age to introduce a real pumlp r, al't Mr. Vincent Crumurles nodded his head. washing-tubs." 'k 46 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. "Into tl.e piece?" said Nicholas. quired Nicholas, after a few moments "Yes," replied the manager. I bought reflection. "Could I live by it " em cheap at a sale the other day;! and "Live by it, " said the manager. " Like they'll come in admirably. That's the a prince. WEith your own salary, and your London plan; They look up some dresses, friend's, and your writings, you'd makeand properties, and have a piece written to ah! you'd make a pound a week!" fit them. Most of the theatres keep an "You don't say so!" author on purpose." "I do indeed; and if we had a run of,indeed!" cried Nicholas. good houses nearly double the money."'COh yes," said t.ie manager; a common Nicholas shrugged his shoulders, but thing. It'll look very well in the bills in sheer destitution was before him; and if he separate lines - Real ptump!-Splendid could summon fortitude to undergo the ex tubs! - Great attraction! You don't tremes of want and hardship, for what had happen to be anything of an artist, do he rescued his helpless charge if it were you 3" only to bear as hard a fate as that from " That is not one of my accompTish- which he had wrested him? It was easy ments," rejoined Nicholas. to think of seventy miles as nothing, when "Ah! Then it can't be helped," said he was in the same town with the man the manager. " If you had been, we might who had treated him so ill and roused his have had a large wood-cut of the last scene bitterest thoughts; but now it seemed fax for the posters, showing the whole depth enough. What if he went abroad, and his of the stage, with the pump and tubs in mother or Kate were to die the while? the middle; but, however, if you're not, it Without more deliberation, he hastily can't be helped." declared that it was a bargain, and gave "Whalt should I get for all this?" in- Mr. Vincent Crummles his hand upon it., CHAPTER XXIIL TREATS OF THE COMPANY OF MR VINCENT CRUMMLES, AND OF HIS AFFAIRS, DOMESTIC AND THEATRICAL. As Mr. Crummiles had a strange four- the whip; and when these nieans failed, legged animal in the inn stables, which he and the animal came to a stand, the elder called a pony, and a vehicle of unknown Master Crummles got out and kicked him. design, on which he bestowed the appella- By dint of these encouragements, he was Lion of a four-wheeled phaeton, Nicholas persuaded to move from time to tine, and proceeded on his journey next morning they jogged on (as Mr. Crummies truly with greater ease than he had expected: observed) very- comfortably for all parties. the manager and himself occupying the "He's a good pony at bottom," said Mr. front seat, and the Master Crummleses and Crummles, turning to Nicholas. Smike being packed together behind, in He might have been at bottom, but he company with a wicker basket defended certainly was not at top, seeing that his from wet by a stout oilskin, in which were coat was of the roughest and most 1lthe broad-swords, pistols, pigtails, nautical favoured kind. So, Nicholas merely obcostumes, and other professional necessaries served, that he shouldn't wonder if he was. of tue aforesaid young gentlemen. "Many ant, many is the circuit this ~ The pony took his time upon the road, pony has- gone," said Mr. Crummles, flickand-possibly in consequence of his thea- ing him skilfully on the eyelid for old ac. trical education —evinced every now and quaintance sake. " He is quite one of us. then a strong inclination to lie down. How- His mother was on the stage." ever, AMr. Vincent Crummles kept him up "W as she, indeed 3" rejoined Nicholas. wett' ve.!, by jerkin1 the rein, and p ying "' She ate apple-pie at a circus for. up N1ChIOLAS NICK I EB1Y. 47 wards of fourteen years," said the manager; draperies, and dirty ioois. lie lot ged fired pistols, and went to bed in a night- about him; ceiling,?it,'boxes, gallery, cap; and, in short, took the low comedy orchestra, fittings, and decorations of every entirely. His father was a dancer." kind,-all looked coarse, cold, gloomy, and "W Was he at all distinguished l" wretched. " Not very," said the manager. " e " Is this a theatre?" whispered Smike was rather a low sort of pony. The fact in amazement;', I thought it was a blaze is, that he had been originally jobbed out of light and finery." by the day, and he never quite got over his " Why, so it is," replied Nicholas, hardly old habits. He was clever in the melo- less surprised; "but not by day, Smliksdrama, too, but too broad-too broad. When not by day." the mother died, he took the port-wine The manager's voice recalled him from business." a more careful inspection of the building, "'The port-wine business!" cried Nich- to the opposite side of the proscenium, ulas. where, at a small mahogany table with "Drinking port-wine with the clown," rickety legs, and of an oblong shape, sat a said the manager; "but he was greedy, stout, portly female, apparently between and one night bit off the bowl of the glass, forty and fifty, in a tarnished silk cloak, and choked himself, so that his vulgarity with her bonnet dangling by the strings in was the death of him at last." her hand, and her hair (of which she had The descendant of this ill-starred animal a great quantity) braided in a large festoon requiring increased attention from Mr. over each temple. Crurnrnles as he progressed in his day's "Mr. Johnson," said the manager, (for work, that gentleman had very little time Nicholas had given the name which New. for- conversation, and Nicholas was thus man Noggs had bestowed upon him in his left at leisure to entertain himself with his conversation with Mrs. Kenwigs,) " let me own thorughts until they arrived at the introduce Airs. Vincent Crummles." drawbridge at Portsmouth, when Mr. Crum- "I am glad to see you, sir," said Mrs. rmles pulled up. Vincent Crummles, in a sepulchral voice. I "We'll set down here," said the man- " I am very glad to see you, and still more rger, " and the boys will take him round happy to hail you as a promising member to the stable, and call at my lodgings with of our corps." the luggage. You had better let yours be The lady shook Nicholas by the band as taken there for the present." she addressed him in these terms; he saw Thanking Mr. Vincent Crummles for his it was a large one, but had not expected obliging offer, Nicholas jumped out, and, quite such an iron grip as that with which giving Smike his arm, accompanied the she honoured him. manager up High street on their way to " And this," said the lady, crorssinfr to the theatre, feeling nervous and uncom- Smike, as tragic actresses cross when they fortaible enough at the prospect of an im- obey a stage direction, "and this is the mediate introduction to a scene so new to other. You, too, are welcome, sir." him. " He'll do, I think, my dear," said the They passed a great many bills pasted manager, taking a pinch of snuff: against the walls and displayed in win- "He is admirable," replied the lady. dows, wherein the names of Mr. Vincent'"An acquisition, indeed." Crumrmles, Mrs. Vincent Crummles, Master As Mrs. Vincent Crummles re-crossed Crummles, Master P. Crumrnles, and iMiss back to the table, there bounded on to the Crumnmles, were printed in very large let- stage from some mysterious inlet, a little ters, and every thing else in very small girl in a dirty white frock with tucks lip tu ones; and turning at length into an entry, the knees, short trousers, sandaled shoes, in which was a strong smell of oranoe-peel white spencer, pink gauze bonnet, green and lamp-oil, with an under current of saw- veil and curl-papers, who turned a pirou. dust, groped their way through a dark ette, cut twice in the air, turned another passage, and, descending a step or two, pirouette, then looking off at the opposites threaded a little maze of' canvas-screens wing, shrieked, bounded forward to within and paint-pots, and emerged upon the stage six inches of the footlights, and fell into a of the Portsmouth Theatre. beautiful attitude of terror, as a shabby " HIere we are," said Mr. Crummles. gentleman in an old pair of buff slippers It was not very light, but Nicholas found came in at one powertif slide, and chatterhimself close to the first entrance on the ing h;s teeth, fiercely brandished a walkprompter's side, among bare walls, dusty ing-stick. icenes, mildewed clouds, heavily daubed "They are goirg through the Indial l4.8 N I 0 NICHIOLAS NI CKLEB!Y Sav.ige and the Maiden," said Mrs. "Your daughter?" inquired Nicholas. Criumrnles. " My daughter-my' daughter," replice "Oh'!" said hie manager, "the little Mr. Vincent Crummles;'" the idol of every ballet interlude. Very good, go on. A place we go into, Sir. We have had corn little this way, if you please, Mr. Johnson. plimentary letters about this girl, Sir, from That'll do. Now." the nobility and gentry of almost every The manager clapped his hands as a sig- town in England." nal to proceed, and the Savage, becoming "I am not surprised at that," said Nichoferocious, made a slide towards the maiden, las; "she must lbe quite a natural genius." but the maiden avoided him in six twirls, "Quite a -.." Mr. Crumrmles stopped; alid came down at the end of the last one language was riot powerful enough to deupon the very points of her toes. This scribe the infant phenomenon. "I'll tcl] seemed to make some impression upon the you what, Sir," he said; 6" the talent of savage, for, after a little more ferocity and this child is not to be imagined. She must chasing of the maiden into corners, he be seen, Sir-seen —to be ever so faintly began to relent, and stroked his face seve- appreciated. There; go to your mother, ral times with his right thumb and four my dear." fingers, thereby intimating that he was "May I ask how old she is?" inquired struck with admiration of the maiden's Nicholas. beauty. Acting upon the impulse of this " You may, Sir," replied Mr. Crummles, passion, he (the savage) began to hit him- looking steadily in his questioner's face, as self severe thumps in the chest, and to ex- some men do when they have doubts about hibit other indications of being desperately being implicitly believed in what they are in love, which being rather a prosy pro- going to say. " She is ten years of age, ceeding, was very likely the cause of the Sir." m.aiden's falling asleep; whether it was or "Not more." not, asleep she did fall, sound as a church, "Not a day." on a sloping bank, and the savage perceiv- "Dear me!" said Nicholas, " It's extra. ing it, leant his left ear on his left hand, ordinary." and n:dded sideways, to intimate to all It was; for the infant phenomenon, whom it might concern, that she was though of short stature, had a comparaasleep, and no shamming. Being left to tively aged countenance, and had moreover aimself, the savage had a dance, all alone, been precisely the same age-not perhaps and just as he left off the maiden woke to the full extent of the memory of the ap, rubbed her eyes, got off the bank, and oldest inhabitant, but certainly for five had a dance all alone too-such a dance good years. But she had been kept up that the savage looked on in ecstasy all late every night, and kept upon an unlimthe while, and when it was done, plucked ited allowance of gin and water from in from a neighbouring tree some botanical fancy, to prevent her growing tall; and curiosity, resembling a small pickled cab- perhaps this system of training had pro. bage, and offered it to the maiden, who at duced in the infant phenomenon these adfirst wouldn't have it, but on the savage ditional phenomena. shedding tears, relented. Then the savage While this short dialogue was going on, jumped for joy; then the maiden jumped the gentleman who had enacted the savage for rapture at the sweet smell of the came up, with his walking-shoes on his pickled cabbage. Then the savage and feet, and his slippers in his hand, to within the maiden danced violently together, and, a few paces, as if desirous to join in the finally, the savage dropped down on one conversation, and deeming this a good opknee, and the maiden stood on one leg portunity to put in his word. upon his other knee; thus concluding the "Talent there, Sir," said the savage, ballet, and leaving the spectators in a state nodding towards Miss Crummles. of pleasing uncertainty, whether she would Nicholas assented. ultimately marry the savage, or return to "Ah!" said the actor, setting his teeth ier friends. together, and drawing in his breath with a " Very well, indeed," said Mr. Crummles; hissing sound, " she oughtn't to be in the "bravo!" provinces, she oughtn't." ~' Bravo!" cried Nicholas, resolved to "What do you mean? " asked the makn miake the best of everything. "Beautiful!" ager. -' This, Sir," said Mr. Vincent Crummles, "I mean to say," replied the other, bringing the maiden forward, "this is warmly, "that she is too good for country thL infant phenomenm n- Miss Ninetta boards, and that she ought to be in one of iY antmle.s.":he large houses in London, or nowhere NICHIOLAS NICKLEBY. 14,9 And 1I tell you mnlore, without mincingr tdhe elining indeed to sallow, with long thick matter, that if it wasn't fior envy and black hair, and very evident indications ealouyv in some quarter that you know (althougrh lie was close shavede of a stiff of; she would be. Perhaps you'll introduce beard, and whiskers of the samle deel) shade. [Sat here, Mr. Crummlles." His age did not appear to exceed thirty, "lMr. Folair," said the manager, pre- although many at first sight would have seuti!o: hiln to Nicholas..considered him much older, as his thce was "Ha:ippy to know you, Sir." Mr. Folair longo and very pale, firom the constant aptouched the brim of his hat with his fore- plication of stage paint. HIe wore a fng'er, and then shook hands. "'A recruit, checked shirt, an old green coat with new Sir, I understand l" gilt buttons, a neckerchief of broad red aild "An unworthy one," replied Nicholas. green stripes, and full blue trousers; he "Did you ever see such a set-out as carried too a common ash walking-stick, liat I" whispered the actor; drawing him apparently more for show than uste, as he away, as Crunroles left them to speak to flourished it about with the hook end downhisi wife. wards, except when lie raised it for a few "As what?" seconds, and throwing himself into a fencMr. Folair made a funny face from his ing attitude, made a pass or two at the pantomirne collection, and pointed over his side-scenes, or at any other object, animate shoulder. or inanimate, that chanced to afford him a " You don't mean the infant phenome- pretty good mark at the moment. non "'" \Vell, Tommy," said this gentleman, "Infant humbug, sir," replied Mr. Fo- making a thrust at his friend, who parried lair. " There isn't a female child of com- it dexterously with his slipper, " what's the mozAsharpness in a charity school that news." couldn't do better than that. She may "A new appearance, that's all," replied thank her stars she was born a manager's Mr. Folair, looking at Nicholas. daughter." "Do the honours, Tommy, do the ho"You seem to take it to heart," observed nours," said the other gentleman, tapping Nicholas, with a smile. him reproachfilly on the crown of the hat "Yes, by Jove, and well I may," said with his stick. M1r. Folair, drawing his arm through his, "This is Mr. Lenville, who does our and walking him up and down the stage. first tragedy, Mr. Johnson," said the panto" Isn't it enough to make a man crusty to mirnist. see that little sprawler put up in the best "Except when ol(l bricks and mortar ousiness every nilght, and actually keeping takes it into his head to do it himself, you pmoney out of the house, by being forced should add, Tommy," remarked Mr. Lendown the people's throats, while other peo- ville. "You know who bricks and mortar ple are passed over 3 Isn't it extraordinary is, I suppose, sir?" to see a man's confounded family conceit "I do not, indeed," replied Nicholas. blinding him even to his own interestS "We call Crummles that, because his Why I know of fifteen and sixpence that style of acting is rather in the heavy and came to Southampton one night last month ponderous way," said Mr. Leuville. "1 fo see me dance the Highland Fling, and mustn't be cracking jokes though, for I've what's the consequence? I've never been got a part of twelve lengths here which I put up in it since-never once-while the must be up in to-morrow night, and I' infant phenomenon' has been -grinning haven't had time to look at it yet; I'm a through artificial flowers at five people and I confounded quick study, that's one colna baby in the pit, and two boys in the gal- fort." lery, every night." Consoling himself with this reflection} "If I may judge from what I have seen Mr. Lenville drew from his coat-pocket a of you," said Nicholas, "you must be a va- grea-sy and crumpled manuscript, and havluable member of the company." ing made another pass at his friend pro"Oh1!" replied Mr. Folair, beating his ceeded to walk to and fro, conning it to slippers toegether, to knock the dust out; himself, and indulging occasionally in such "I can come it pretty well-nobody better appropriate action as his imagination anti perhaps in my own line-but having such | the text sugoested. business as one gots here, is like putting A pretty general muster of the company read on one's feet instead of chalk, and had by this time taken place; for besides ~lancing in fetters without tile credit of it. Mr. Lenville and his friend Tommy, there [Iolloa, old fellow, how are you!" was present a slim young gentleman with The genilenman addressed in these latter,:peak eyes, who played the low-spirited sords was a l-ark-cmplexiored m1l,, in- lovers, and sang tenor songs, and who hadtu NICHOLAS NICKLI BY. come arm in arm with the comic country- Mr. Crumniles, junior with both endi i. man-a man with a turned-up nose, laroe fun. Lastly, there was Mrs. Gruddr, 11in mouth, broad face, and staring eyes. a brown cloth pelisse and a beaver bonnet, Makin)'g himself very amiable to the infant who assisted Mrs. Crummles in hbr do. phenomeinon, was an inebriated elderly mestic afikirs, and took money at the doors. gentleimiman in the last depths of shabbiness, and dressed the ladies, and swept the who played the calm and virtuous old men; house, and held the prompt book whben and pavyitng especial court to AMrs. Crum- everybody else was on for the last scene, nmles was another elderly gentleman, a and acted any kind of part onl any emer. shade more respectable, who played the gency without ever learning it, and was irascille old men-those funny fellows who put down in the bills under any narie oir have iecphews in the army, and perpetually names whatever that occurred to Mr. run about with thick sticks to compel them Crummles as looking well in print. to marry lheiresses. Besides these, there Mr. Folair having obligingly confided was a roving-looking person in a rough these particulars to Nicholas, left hilm to great coat, who strode up and down in mingle with his fellows; the work of' perfiront of tie lamps, flourishing a dress cane, sonal introduction was completed by.1r. and rattling away in an under-tone with Vincent Crumrnmles, who publicly heralded great vivacity for the amusement of an the new actor as a prodigy of genius and ideal audience. He was not quite so young learning. as lie had been, and his figure was rather "I beg your pardon," said Miss Snevel. running to seed; but there was an air of licci, sidling towards Nicholas, " but did exaggerated gentility about him, which you ever play at Canterbury?" bespo!;e the hero of swagoering comedy. " I never did," replied Nicholas. There was also a little group of three or "I recollect meeting a gentleman at four young men, with lantern jaws and Canterbury," said Miss Snevellicci, "only thick eyebrows, who were conversing in for'a few moments, for I was leaving' the one corner; but they seemed to be of se- company as he joined it, so like you that I condary importance, and laughed and talked felt almost certain that it was the same." together without attracting any very " Isee you now for the first time," remarked attention. joined Nicholas with all due gallantry. The ladies were gathered in a little knot "I am sure I never saw you befbre; I by themselves round the rickety table be- couldn't have forgotten it." fore mnentioned. There was Miss Snevel- " Oh, I'm sure-it's very flattering ot licci, who could do anything from a medley you to say so," retorted Miss Snevellicci, dance to Lady Macbeth, and always played with a graceful bend. "Now I look at some part in blue silk knee-smalls at her you again, I see that the gentleman at benefit, glancing from the depths of her Canterbury hadn't the same eyes as you — coal-scuttle'straw bonnet at Nicholas, and you'll think ime very foolish for taking no. affecting to.be absorbed in the recital of a tich of such things, won't you?" diverting story to her friend Miss Ledrook, "Not at all," said Nicholas. "How can who had brought her work, and was mak- I feel otherwise than flattered by your noing up a ruff in the most natural manner tice in any way?" possible. There was Aliss Belvawney, "6 Oh! you men, you are such vain crea. who seldom aspired to speaking parts, and tures!" cried 1Miss Snevellicci. WThereupon usually went on as a page in white silk she became charmingly confused, and, hose, to stand with one leg bent and con- pullingr out her pocket handkerchief from template the audience, or to go in and out a faded pink silk reticule with a gilt clasp, after Mr. Crummles in stateliy tragedy, called to Miss Ledrooktwisting up the ringlets of the beautifil " Led, my dear," said Miss Sneveiiicci. Miss l3ravassa, who had once had her like- " Well, what is the matter " said iAisN ness taken " in character" by an engraver's Ledrook. apprentice, whereof impressions were hung " It's not the same." lip fbr sale in the pastry-cook's window, " Not the same what " and thegreen-grocer's, and atthe circulating "Canterbury-you know what I mean. ribrary, and the box-office, whenever the Come here, I want to speak to you." announce bills came out for her annual But Miss Ledrook wouldn't cone to Miss night. There was Mrs. Lenville in a very Snevellicci, so Miss Snevellicci was oblimp bonnet and veil, decidedly in that way liged to go to Miss Ledrook, which she (lid in which she would wish to be if she truly in a skipping manner that was quite fasci-:oved Mr. Lenville; there was Miss Ga- natingr, and Miss Ledrook evidently joked zmgi, with an imitation ermine boa tied Miss Snevellicci about being struck with;u a loose knot round her neck, flogging Nicholas, for, after some playful whispr NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 151 ing, Miss Snevellicci hit Miss Ledrook you after dinner, and show you the most very hard on the backs of her hands, and likely place." retired up, in a state of pleasing confusion. The offer was not to be refused: Niche "Ladies and gentlemen," said Mr.-:Vin- las and Mr. Crummiles gave Mrs. Crum. rent Crumrnles, who had been writing on rmles an arm each, and walked up the a- piece of paper,," we'll call the Mortal street in stately array. Smike, the boys, Struggle to-morrow at ten; everybody for and the phenomenon, went home by a the procession.!:Intrigue, and Ways and shorter cut, and Mrs. Grudden remained Means, you're all up in, so we shall only behind to take some cold Irish stew and a want one rehearsal. Everybody at ten, if pint of porter in the box-office. you please." *Mrs. Crummles trod the pavement as if "Everybody at ten," repeated Mrs. she were going to immediate execution Grudden, looking about her. with an animating consciousness of inno"On Monday morning we shall read a cence and that heroic fortitude which virnew piece," said Mr. Crummles; "the tue alone inspires. Mr. Crummiles, on the -name's not known yet, but everybody will other hand, assumed the look and gait of a have a good part. Mr. Johnson will take hardened despot; but they both attracted care of that." some notice from many of the passers-by, "Hallo!" said Nicholas, starting, "I —" and when they heard a whisper of " Mr. "On Monday morning," repeated Mr. and Mrs. Crummiles," or saw a little boy Crummiles, raising his voice, to drown the run back to stare them in the face, the se unfbrtunate Mr. Johnson's remonstrance; vere expression of their countenances re. " that'll do, ladies and gentlemen." laxed, for they felt it was popularity. The ladies and gentlemen required no Mr. Crummles lived in Saint Thomas's second notice to quit, and in a few minutes Street, at the house of one Bulph, a pilot, thetheatre was deserted, save by the who sported a boat-green door, with winCrummles' family, Nicholas, and Smike. dow-frames of the same colour, and had I"Upon my word," said Nicholas, taking the little finger of a drowned man on his the manager aside, " I don't think I can be parlour mantel-shelf, with other maritime ready by Monday." and natural curiosities. He displayed also " Pooh, pooh," replied Mr. Crummles. a brass knocker, a brass plate,' and a brass " But really I can't," returned Nicholas; bell-handle, all very bright and shining, " my invention is not accustomed to these and had a mast, with a vane on the top ot demands, or possibly I might produce-" it, in his back yard. " Invention! what the devil's that got to " You are welcome," said Mrs. Crum do with it!" cried the manager, hastily. mles, turning round to Nicholas when they " Everything, my Gear sir." reached the bow-windowed front room on "Nothing, my dear sir," retorted the the first floor. manager, with evident impatience. "Do Nicholas bowed his acknowledgments, you understand French! " and was unfeignedly glad to see the cloth " Perfectly well." laid. "Very good," said the manager, opening "We have but a shoulder of mutton the table-drawer, and giving a roll of paper with onion sauce," said Mrs. Crummles, in from it to Nicholas. " There, just turn that the same charnel-house voice;" but such into English, and put your name on the as our dinner is, we beg you to partake title-page. Damn me," said Mr. Crum- of it." mles, angrily, " if I havn't often said that I " You are very good," replied Nicholas. wouldn't have a man or woman in my " 1 shall do it ample justice." company that wasn't master of the lan- "Vincent," said'Airs. Crummles, "wlhat guage, so that they might learn it from the is the hour 3" original, and play it in English, and save "Five minutes past dinner-time," said all this trouble and expense." Mr. Crummles. Ni:holas smiled, and pocketed the play. Mrs. Crummles rang the bell. "Let the," What are you going to do about your mutton and onion sauce appear." idg*ings? " said Mr. Crummles. The slave who attended upon Mr. Bulph a Nicholas could not help thinking that, lodgers disappeared, and after a short infor the first week, it would be an uncom- terval re-appeared with the festive banquet. mon convenience to have a turn-up bed- Nicholas and the infant phenomenon op. stead in the pit, but he merely remarked posed each other at the pembroke-tablQ, that he had not turned his thoughts that and Smike and the master Crummleses way dined on the sofa bedstead. "Come home with me, then," said Mr. " Are they very theatrical people here V"'rummles, " and my boys shall go with asked Nicholas. 10 1b52 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 4 No," rep.ied Mr. Crummiles, shaking "Certainly," replied Nichoas: devoutly nis head. " far from it-far from it." hoping that it would be a very.ong txne " I pity them," observed Mrs. Crummiles. before he was honoured with this distlnc"So do I," said Nicholas; " if they have tion. -no relish for theatrical entertainments, pro- " Then I'll tell you what we'll do," said perly conducted." Mr. Crummles. "; You shall study Romeo "Then they have none, Sir," rejoined when you've done that piece- don't forget Mr. Crummles. "To the infant's benefit, to throw the pump and tubs in by-the-byelast year, on which occasion she repeated Juliet Miss Snevellicci, old Grudden the three of her most popular characters, and nurse.-Yes, that'll do very well. Rover also appeared in the Fairy Porcupine, as too; -you might get up Rover while you originally performed by her, there was a were about it, and Cassio, and Jeremy Didhouse of no more than four pound twelve." dler. You can easily knock them off; one "Is it possible?" cried Nicholas. part helps the other so much. Here they "And two pound of that was trust, pa," are, cues and all." said the phenomenon. With these hasty general directions Mr. "And two pound of that was trust," re- Crummles thrust a number of little books peated Mr. Crummles. "Mrs. Crummles into the faltering hands of Nicholas, and herself has played to mere handfuls." bidding his eldest son go with him and " But they are always a taking audience, show him where lodgings were to be had, Vincent," said the manager's wife. shook him by the hand and wished him' Most audiences are, when they haye good night. gooa acting —real good acting-the real There is no lack of comfortable furnishthing," replied Mr. Crumrnles, forcibly. ed apartments in Portsmouth, and no diffi. " Do you give lessons, ma'am." inquired culty in finding some that are proportionate Nicholas. to very slender finances; but the former " I do," said Mrs. Crummles. were too good, and the latter too bad, and " There is no teaching here, I suppose?" they went into so many houses, and came "There has been," said Mrs. Crummles. out unsuited, that.Nicholas seriously began "I have received pupils here. I imparted to think he should be obliged to ask per. tuition to the daughter of a dealer in ships' mission to spend the night in the theatre, provision; bnt it afterwards appeared that after all. she was insane when she first came to me. Eventually, however, they stumbled upon It was very extraordinary that she should two small rooms up three pair of stairs, or come, under such circumstances." rather two pair and a ladder, at a tobaccoNot feeling quite so sure of that, Nicho- nist's shop, on the Common Hard, a dirty las thought it best to hold his peace. street leading down to the dockyard. These " Let me see," said the manager cogi- Nicholas engaged, only too happy to have tating after dinner. " Would vou like escaped any request for payment of a week's:some nice little part with the infant?" rent beforehand. "' You are very good," replied Nicholas," There, lay down our personal property, hastily; " but I think perhaps it would be Smike," he said, after showing Crummles better if I had somebody of my own size at down stairs.," We have fallen upon strange first, in case I should turn out awkward. times, and God only knows the end of I should feel more at home perhaps." them; but I am tired with the events o "True," said the manager. " Perhaps'these three days. arld will postpone:refie you would, and you could play up to the dIon ilil to-morrow-if I can." iniart'n time, you know." NI)CHOLIAS NICKLEBY 153 CHAPTER XXIV. OF TIlE GREAT Bi SPEAK FOR MISS SNEVELLICCI, AND THE FIRST APPEA'. ANCE OF NICHOLAS UPON ANY STAGE. NICHOLAS was up betimes in the morn- and jealousy stab your eldest son in the irg; but he had scarcely begun to dress, library." nctwithstanding, when he heard footsteps "' Do I though!" exclaimed Mr. Lenville. ascending the stairs, and was presently i"That's very good business." saluted by the voices of Mr. Folair the "After which," said Nicholas, "ycsi are pantomimist, and Mr. Lenville, the trage- troubled with remorse till the last act, and dian. then you make up your mind to destroy "House, house, house!" cried Mr. Fo- yourself But just as you are raising the!air. pistol to your head, a clock strikes-ten." "What, ho! within there!" said Mr. *"I see," cried Mr. Lenville. "Very Lenville, in a deep voice. good." Confbund these fellows! thought Nich- "You pause," said Nicholas; " you reolas; they have come to breakfast, I sup- collect to have heard a clock strike ten in nose. "I'll open the door directly, if you'll your infancy. The pistol falls from your wait an instant." hand-you are overcome-you burst into The gentlemen entreated him not to tears, and become a virtuous and exemplary hurry himself; and to beguile the interval, character for ever afterwards." had a fencing bout with their walking-sticks "Capital!" said Mr. Lenville: " that's a on the very small landing-place, to the sure card, a sure card. Get the curtain unspeakable discomposure of all the other down with a touch of nature like that, and lodgers down stairs. it'll be a triumphant success." "' Here, come in," said Nicholas, when " Is there anything good for me t" inquire had completed his toilet. " In the name red Mr. Folair, anxiously. of ail that's horrible, don't make that noise "Let me see," said Nicholas. "You Out3alek." play the faithful and attached servont; you "uhi uncommon snug little box this," are turned out of doors with the wife and said Mr. Lenville, stepping into the front child." room, and taking his hat off before he could "Always coupled with that infernal phe. get in at all. "Pernicious snug." nomenon," sighed Mr. Folair: " and we go "For a man at all particular in such matr into poor lodgings, where I won't take any ters it might be a trifle too snug," said wages, and talk sentiment, I suppose?" Nicholas; "for, although it is undoubtedly "Why-yes," replied Nicholas; "that a great convenience to be able to reach any is the course of the piece." thing you want from the ceiling or the floor, "I must have a dance of some kind, you or either side of the room, without having know," said Mr. Folair. "' You'll have to to move from your chair, still these advan- introduce one for the phenomenon, so you'd tages can only be had in an apartment of better make it a pas de deux, and save the most limited size." time.""It isn't a bit too confined for a single "There's nothing easier than that," said man," returned Mr. Lenville.'"That re- Mr. Lenville, observing the disturbed looks minds me,-my wife, Mr. Johnson-I hope of the young dramatist. she'll have some good part in this piece of " Upon my word I don't see how it's to yours." be done," rejoined Nicholas. " I glanced at the French copy last "XVhy, is n't it obvious'!" reasoned Mr. light," said Nicnolas. " It looks very good, Lenville. "Gadzooks, who can help seeing I think." the way to do it? —you astonish me! You What do you mean to do for me, old fel- get the distressed lady, and the little child, low," asked Mr. Lenville, poking the strug- and the attached servant, into the poor gling fire with his walking-stick, and after- lodgings, don't you — Well, look here.wards wiping it on the skirt of his coat.- The distressed lady sinks into a chair, and Anything in the gruff and grumble way t" buries her face in her pocket-handkerchiet "You turn your owife and child out of -' What makes you weep, mammal' sajs A4crs," said Nicholas "and in a fit of rage the child.' Don't weep, mainma, or you II 154 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. make me weep too!-' And me!' says the couple of people who were cra:klrg Leats faithfil servant, rubbing his eyes with his in the gallery, wondering whethue they arm.' What can we do to raise your made the whole audience, when the manaspirits, dear mamma.' says the little child. ger himself walked famiiiarly up and ac-'Ay, what can we do.' says the faithful costed him. servant.' Oh, Pierre!' says the distressed "Been in front to-night?" said Mr. lady;' Would that I could shake off these Crummles. painful thoughts.'-' Try, ma'am, try,' says "' No," replied Nicholas, "not yet. I the faithful servant;' rouse yourself, ma'am; am going to see the play." be amused.'-' I will,' says the lady,'i " We've had a pretty good Let," said will learn to suffer with fortitude. Do yod Mr. Crumrnles. " Four front places in remember that dance, my honest friend, the centre, and the whole of the stage-box." which, in happier days, you practised with "1Oh, indeed!" said Nicholas; " a family, this sweet angel? It never failed to calm I suppose?" my spirits then. Oh! let me see it once "Yes," replied Mr. Crummles, "yes, again before I die!'-There it is-cue for It's an affectingr thing. There are six chil/ the band, before I die,-and off they go. dren, and they never come unless the phe That's the regular thing; is n't it, Toln- nomenon plays." my.v' It would have been difficult for any party, " That's it," replied Mr. Folair. " The family or otherwise, to have visited the distressed lady, overpowered by old recol- theatre on a night when the phenomenon lections, faints at the end of the dance, and did not play, inasmuch as she always susyou close in with a picture." tained one, and not uncommonly two or Profiting by these and other lessons, three, characters every night; but Nicho. which were the result of the personal ex- las, sympathising with the feelings of a erience of the two actors, Nicholas wil- father, refrained from hinting at this trilingly gave them the best breakfast he fling circumstance, and Mr. Crummles concould, and when he at length got rid of tinued to talk uninterrupted by him. them applied himself to his task, by no "Sir," said the gentleman; " Pa and means displeased to find that it was so much Ma eight, aunt nine, governess ten, grand. easier than he had at first supposed. He father and grandmother twelve. Then worked very hard all day, and did not leave there's* the. footman, who stands outside, his room until the evening, when he went with a bag of oranges and a jug of toast. down to the theatre, whither Smike had and-water, and sees the play for nothing repaired before him to go on with another through the little pane of glass in the boxgentiem)n as a general rebellion. door-it's cheap at a guinea; they gain by Here all the people were so much chang- taking a box." ed that he scarcely knew them. False "I wonder you allow so many," observ hair, false colour, false calves, false mus- ed Nicholas. cles-they had become different beings.- "There's no help for it," replied Mr. Mr. Lenville was a blooming warrior of Crummiles; " it's always expected in the most exquisite proportions; Mr. Crummles, country. If there are six children, six peohis large face shaded by a profusion of black ple come to hold them in their laps. A hair, a Highland outlaw of most majestic family-box carries double always. Ring in bearing; one of the old gentlemen a gaol- the orchestra, Grudden." or, and the other a venerable patriarch; That useful lady did as she was requestthe comic countryman, a fighting-man of ed, and shortly afterwards the tuning of great valour, relieved by a touch of humour; three fiddles was heard. Which process each of the master Crummleses, a prince having been protracted as long as it was in his own right; and the low-spirited lover supposed that the patience of the audience a desponding captive. There was a gorge- could possibly bear it, was put a stop to by ous banquet ready spread for the third act, another jerk of the bell, which being the consisting of two pasteboard vases, one signal to begin in earnest, set the orchesplate of biscuits, a black bottle, and a vine- tra playing a variety of popular airs, with gar cruet; and, in short, everything was on involuntary variations. a scale of the utmost splendour and prepar- If Nicholas had been astonished at the ation. alteration for the better which the gentleNicholas was standing with his back to men displayed, the transformation of the the curtain,- now contemplating the first ladies was still more extraordinary. Whel, scene, which was a Gothic archway, about from a snug corner of the manager's box, two feet shorter than Mr. Crummles, he beheld Miss Snevellicci in all the glories through which that gentleman was to make of white muslin with a gold hem, and Mrs his first entrance, and now listening to a Crummles in all the dignity of the out NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 15b,aw's wife, and Miss Bravassa in ali the some pistolling, loss of life, and.orchlight; sweetness of Miss Sne vellicci's confidential after which the patriarch came forward, friend, and Miss Belvawney in the white and observing, with a knowing look, that silks of a page doing duty everywhere and he knew all about his children now, and swearing to live and die in the service of would tell them when they got inside, said everybody, he could scarcely contain his that there could not be a more appropriate admiration, which testified itself in great occasion for marrying the young people applause, and the closest possible attention than that, and therefore he joined their to the business of the scene. The plot was hands, with the full consent of the indefa. most interesting. It belonged to no parti- tigable page, who (being the only other cular age, people, or country, and was per- person surviving) pointed with his cap into haps the more delightful on that account, the clouds, and his right hand to the ground; as nobody's previous information could af- thereby invoking a blessing and giving the ford the remotest glimmering of what cue for the curtain to come down, which it would ever come of it. An outlaw had did, amidst general applause. been very successful in doing. something "What did you think of that " asked somewhere, and came home in triupph, to Mr. Crummles, when Nicholas went round the sound of shouts and fiddles, to greet his to the stage again. Mr. Crummles was very wife-a lady of masculine mind, who talk- red and hot, for your outlaws are. desperate ed a good deal about her father's bones, fellows to shout. which it seemed were unburied, though "I think it was very capital, indeed," rewhether from a peculiar taste on the part plied Nicholas; "'Miss Snevellicci in parof the old gentleman himself, or the repre- ticular was uncommonly good." hensible neglect of his relations, did not "She's a genius;" said Mr. Crummles; appear. This outlaw's wife was somehow "quite a genius, that girl. By-the-bye, I've or other mixed up with a patriarch, living been thinking of bringing out that piece of in a castle a long way off, and this patriarch yours on her bespeak night." was the father of several of the characters, "When?" asked Nicholas. but he didn't exactly know which, and was " The night of her bespeak. Her bene. uncertain whether he had brought up the fit night, when her friends and patrons be. right ones in his castle, or the wrong ones, speak the play," said Mr. Crummles. but rather inclined to the latter opinion, "Oh! I understand," replied Nicholas. and, being uneasy, relieved his mind with a "You see," said Mr. Crummles, " it's:anquet, during which solemnity somebody sure to go on such an occasion, and even in a cloak said "Beware!" which some- if it should not work up quite as well as nody was known by nobody (except the we expect, why it: will be her risk, you audience) to be the outlaw himself, who know, and not ours." had come there for reasons unexplained, "Yours, you mean," said Nicholas. but possibly with an eye to the spoons.- "I said. mine, didn't I?" returned Mr. There was an agreeable little surprise in Crummles. "Next Monday week. What the way of certain love passages between do you say now? You'll have done it, and the desponding captive and Miss Snevel- are sure to be up in the lover's part long licci, and the comic fighting-man and Miss before that time." Bravassa; besides which, Mr. Lenville had "I don't know about' long before,' " reseveral very tragic scenes in the dark, plied Nicholas; "but by that time 1 think while on throat-cutting expeditions, which I can undertake to be ready." were all baffled by the:skill and bravery of "Very good," pursued Mr. Crummles, the comic fighting-man (who overheard "then we'll call that settled. Now, I whatever was said all through the piece) want to ask you something else. There's and the intrepidity of Miss Snevellicci, a little-what shall I call it-alittle canwho adopted tights, and therein repaired to vassing takes place on these occasions." the prison of her captive lover, with a small "Among the patrons, I suppose?" saAi basket of refreshments and a dark lantern. Nicholas. At last it came out that the patriarch was "Among the patrons; and the fact is, the man who had treated the bones of the that Snevellicci has had so many bespeaks outlaw's father-in-law with so much dis- in this place, that she wants an attraction. respect, for which cause and reason the She had a bespeak when her mother-in-law outlaw's wife repaired to his castle to kill died, and a bespeak when her uncle died, him, and so got into a dark room, where, and Mrs. Crummles and myself have had after a great deal of groping in the dark, bespeaks on the anniversary of the pheeverybody got hold of everybody else, and nomenon's birth-day and our wedding-day. took them for somebody besides, which oc- and occasions of that description, so that. iasioned a.ast quantity of confusion, with. in fact, there's some difficulty in getting s. 156: NIFCHOLAS NICKLEBI gool one. Now won't: you help this poor tude, of which _atter comrnodity neither girl, Mr. Johnson." saidl Crummles,! sitting Mr. nor Mrs. Crummles was by any means himself down oni a drum, and taking a great sparing, It was arranged that Nicholas pinch. of snuff as he looked him isteadily in should call upon her at her lodgings at the face. eleven next morning, and soon afterwards " How do you mean?" rejoined Nicholas. they parted: he to return home tu his aun"Don't you think you could spare half- I thorship; Miss Snevellicci to dress for the a'n-hmur to-morrow morniing to call with after-piece; and the disinterested manager her at the houses of one or two of the and his wife to discuss the probable gains principal pe)ple?" murmured the manager of the forthcoming bespeak, of which they an a persuasive tone. were to have two-thirds of the profits by "Oh dear me," said Nichlolas, with an solemn treaty of agreement. air of very strong objection, "I shouldn't At the stipulated hour next morning, like to do that." Nicholas repaired to the lodgings of Miss "' The infant will accompany her,-" said: Snevellicci, which were in a place called MIr. Crummles. "'The moment it was sug- Lombard street, at the house of a tailor. Yested to me, I gave permission for:the in- A strong smell of ironing pervaded the rant to go. There will not be the sfmallest little passage, and the tailor's daughter, impropriety-Miss Snevellicci, Sir, is the who opened the door, appeared in that very soul of honour. It would be of ma- flutter of spirits which is so often attendant terial service-the gentleman' from London upon the periodical getting up of a family's -author of the new piece-actor in the linen. new piece-first appearance on any boards "Miss Snevellicci lives here, I believe?" — it will lead to a great'bespeak, Mr. John- said Nicholas, when the door was opened. son.' The tailor's daughter replied in the affir"I am very sorry to throw a damp upon mative. the prospects of anybody, and more espe- "Will you have the goodness to let her *ially a lady," replied Nichoias; " but really know that Mr. Johnson is here." said I must decidedly object to making one of Nicholas. the canvassing party." "Oh, if you please, you're to come up "What does Mr. Johnson say, Vincent?" stairs," replied the tailor's daughter, with inquired a voice close to his ear; and, look- a smile.; irg round, lie found Mrs. CrunwTmles and Nicholas followed the young lady, and Miss Snevellicci herself standing behind was shown into a small apartment on the him.'first floor, communicating with a back "He has some objection, my dear," re- room; in which, as he judged from a cerplied Mr. Crummles, looking at Nicholas. tain half-subdued clinking sound as of cups "Objection!" exclaimed Mrs. Crummles. and saucers, Miss Snevellicci was then Can it be possible " taking her breakfast in bed. "Oh, I hope not!" cried Miss Snevellicci. "You're to wait, if you please," said the''You surely are not so cruel-oh, dear me! tailor's daughter, after a short period of -Well, 1 —to think of that now, after all absence, during which the clinking in the one's looking forward to it." back room had ceased, and been succeeded "Mr. Johnson will not persist, my dear," by whispering-" She won't be long." said Mrs. Crummles. " Think better of him As she spoke she pulled up the windowthan to suppose it. Gallantry, humanity, all' blind, and having by this means (as she the best feelings of his nature, must be en- thought) diverted Mr. Johnson's attention listed in this interesting cause." from the room to the street, caught up some "Which moves even a manager," said articles which were airing on the fender, Mr. Crumlnles, smiling. and had very much the appearance of stock" And a manager's wife," added Mrs.' ings, and darted off. Crummles, in her accustomed tragedy As there were not many objects of intetones. "Come, come, you will relent, I rest outside the window, Nicholas looked Iknow you will." about the room with more curiosity than he "It is not in my nature," said Nicholas, might otherwise have bestowed upon it. moved by these appeals, "to resist any en- On the sofa lay an old guitar, several treaty, unless it is to do something positively thumbed pieces of music, and a scattered wrong, and, beyond a feeling of pride, I litter of curl-papers: together with a con. know nothing which should prevent my fused heap of play-bills, and a pair of soiled doing this. I know nobody here either, and white satin shoes with large blue rosettes. nobody knows me. So be it then. I yield." Hanging over the back of a chair was a Miss Snevelllcci was at once overwhelm: half-finished muslin apron with little pocked with blushes and expressions of grati- ets ornamented with red riblxns, such as N.ICHOLAS t1 itiKLEBY. 157 wliting-women wear on the stage,: and- by form, (so the paper said,) upon 1 he stage at consequence are never seen with anywhere Winchester,-when that young lady her. else. In one corner stood the diminutive self, attired in the coal-scuttle bonnet and pair of top-boots in which Miss Snevellicci walking-dress complete, tripped into the was accustomed to enact the little jockey, room, with a thousand apologies for having and, folded on a chair hard by, was a small detained him so long after the appointed arcel, which bore a very suspicions resem- time. blance to the companion smalls. "But really," said Miss Snevellicci, But the most interesting object of all, was " my darling Led, who lives with me here, perhaps the open scrap-book, displayed in was taken so very ill in the night that 1 the nmidst of some theatrical duodecimos thought she would have expired in my tnat were strewn upon the table, and pasted arms." into which scrap-book were various critical "Such a fate is almost to be envied," notices of Miss Snevellicci's acting, ex- returned Nicholas, "but I am very sorry to tracted fi;om different provincial journals, hear it nevertheless." together with one poetic address in her "What a creature you are to flatter!" honour, commencing- said Miss Snevellicci, buttoning her glove in much confusion. Sing,. God of Love, and tell me in what dearth "If it be flattery to. admire your charmsThrice-gifted SNEVELLICCI came on earth, and accomplisLments," rejoined Nicholas, To thrill us with her smile, her tear, her eye, Sing, God of Love, and tell me quickly why. laying his hand upon the scrap-book, "you have better specimens of it here." Besides this effusion, there were innumera- "Oh you cruel creature, to read such ble complimentary allusions, also extracted things as those. I'm almost ashamed to from newspapers, such as — " We observe look you in the face afterwards, positively from an advertisement in another part of I anm," said Miss Snevellicci, seizing the our paper of to-day, that the charming and book and putting it away in a closet. highly-talented Miss Snevellicci takes her "How careless of Led! How could she be benefit on Wednesday, for which occasion sonaughty!" she has put forth a bill of fare that might "I thought you had kindly left it here, kindle exhilaration in the breast of a mis- on purpose for me to read," said Nicholas. anthrope. In the confidence that our fel- And really it did seem possible. low-townsmen have not lost that high ap-' I wouldn't have had you see it for the preiation of public ability and private world!" rejoined Miss' Snevellicci. 0' I worth, for which they have long been so never was so vexed-never. But she is pre-eminently d;s'.nguished, we predict that such a careless thing, there's no trusting this charming actress will be greeted with her." a bumer." "To Correspondents: —J. S. The conversation was here interrupted is misinformed when he supposes that the by the entrance of the phenomenon, who highly-gifted and beautiful Miss Snevel- had discreetly remained iln the bedroom up licci, nightly captivating all hearts at our to this moment, and now presented herself pretty and commodious little theatre, is not with much grace and lightness, bearing in the same lady to whom the young gentle- her hand a very little green parasol with man of immense fortune, residing with- a broad fringe border, and no handle. After in a hundred miles of the good city of a few words of course, they sallied into the York, lately made honourable proposals. street. We have reason to know that Miss Snevelb The phenomenon was rather a troubleAcci is the lady who was implicated in that some companion, for first the right sandal mysterious and romantic affair, and whose came down, and then the left, and these conduct on that occasion did no less honour mischances being repaired, one leg of the to her head and heart, than do her histri- little white trowsers was discovered to be cnic triumphs to her brilliant genius." A longer than the other; besides these acci most ccpious assortment of such paragraphs dents, the green parasol was dropped down as these, with long bills of benefits all end- an iron grating, and only fished up again ing with "Come Early," in large capitals, with great difficulty and by dint of much formed the principal contents of Miss Sne- exertion. However it was impossible to vellicci s scrapbook. scold her, as she was the manager's daughNicholas had read a great many of these ter, so Nicholas took it all in perfect good sraps, and was absorbed in a circumstan- humour, and walked on with Miss Sneveltial and melancholyaccount of the train of licci, arm in arm on one side, and the events which had led to Miss Snevellicci's offending infant on the other. spraining her ancle by slipping on a piece The first house to which they oent thew o' orange-peel flung by a monster in human steps, was situated in a terrace zf' respect 14 ;58 T ICHOLAS NICKLEBY.aole appearance. Mbiss Snevellicei's mo i present before us all those changing and dest double-knock was answered- by a foot- prismatic colours with which the aharacter boy, who, in reply to her inquiry whether of IHamlet is invested!" exclaimed Mrs Mrs. Curdle was at home, opened: his eyes Curdle. very wide, grinned very much, and said he "What man indeed-upon the stage;" didn't know, but he'd inquire. With this, said Mr. Curdle, with a small reservation he showed them into a parlour where he in favour of himself. "Hamlet! Pooh! kept them waiting, until the two women- ridiculous! Hamlet is gone, perfectly gone." servants had repaired- thither, under' false Quite overcome by these dismal reflec. pretences, to see the play-actors, and havy tions, Mr. and Mrs. Curdle sighed, and sat ing compared notes' with them in the pas- for some short time without speaking. At sage, and joined in a vast quantity of whis- length the lady, turning to Miss Snevellicci, pering and giggling, he at length went up inquired what play she proposed to have. stairs with Miss Snevellicci's name. "Quite a new one," said Miss Snevel* Now, Mrs. Curdle was supposed, by those licci, "of which this gentleman is the who were best informed on such points, to author, and in which he plays; being his possess quite the London taste in matters first appearance on any stage. Mr. John. relating to literature and.the drama;'and son is the gentleman's name." as to Mr. Curdle, he had written a pamphlet "I hope you have preserved the unities, of sixty-four pages, post octavo, on the Sir 1" said Mr. Curdle. character of the Nurse's deceased husband "The original piece is a French one," in Romeo and Juliet, with an'inquiry said Nicholas. " There is abundance of inwhether he really had been a " merry man" cident, sprightly dialogues strongly-marked in his lifetime, or whether it was merely characters-" his widow's affectionate partiality that in-." — All unavailing withouta strict obser. duced her so to report him. He had like- vance of the unities, Sir," returned Mr. wise proved, that by altering the received Curdle. "The unities of the drama before mode of punctuation, any one of Shaks- everything." peare's plays could be itaue quite:diffbrent, "Might I ask you," said Nicholas, hesiand the sense completely changed; it is tating between the respect he ought to needless to say, therefore, that he was a assume, and his love of the whimsical, great critic, and a very profound andt-most "might I ask you what the unities are 3" original thinker. Mr. Curdle coughed and considered.Well, Miss Snevellicci," said Mrs.' "The unities, Sir," he said, "are a coraCurdle, entering the parlour, "and how do pleteness -a kind of a universal doveyou do?" tailedness with regard to place and timeMiss Snevellicci made a graceful obei- a sort of a general oneness, if I may be sance, and hoped Mrs. Curdle was well, as allowed to use so strong an expression. I also Mr. Curdle, who at the same time ap- take those to be the dramatic unities, so far peared. Mrs. Curdle was dressed in a as I have been enabled to bestow attention morning wrapper, with a little cap stuck upon them, and I have read much upon the upon the top of her head; Mr. Curdle wore subject, and thought much. I find, runa loose robe on his back, and his right fore- ning through the performances of this finger on his forehead after the portraits of child," said Mr. Curdle, turning to the pheSterne, to whom somebody or other had nomenon, "a unity of feeling, a breadth, a oce said he bore a striking resemblance. light and shade, a warmth of colouring, a "I ventured to call for the purpose of tone, a harmony, a glow, an artistical deasking whether you would put your name velopment of original conceptions, which I to my bespeak, ma'am," said Miss Snevel- look for in vain among older performerslicci, producing documents. I don't know whether I make myself under. "Oh! I really don't know what to say," stood 3" replied Mrs. Curdle. " It's not as if the "Perfectly," replied Nicholas. theatre was in its high and palmy days- "Just'so," said Mr. Curdle, pulling up you' needn't stand, Miss Snevellicci-the his neckelock. "That is my defi-ition of drama is gone, perfectly gone." the unities of the drama." * "As an exquisite embodiment of the Mrs. Curdle had sat listening to this poet's visions, and a realisation of human lucid explanation with great complacency, intellectuality, gilding with refulgent light and it being finished, inquired what Mr. our dreamy moments, and laying open a Curdle thought about putting down their new and magic world before the mental names. eye, the drama is gone, perfectly gone," "' I don't know, my dear; upon my word said Mr. -Curdle I don't know." said Mr. Curdle. " If we h' Whe t man is there now living who can do. it must be distinctly understood that we -NIC' [I1 LA 3 NICKL E BY. 159 do not pledge ourse!'es to the quality of This was addressed to a young go.ntlemax the performances.'Let it go forth to thL who was pinching the phenomenon behind, wxorld, that we do not give them thesarinc apparently with the view of ascertaining tion of our names, but that we confer tnh whether she was real. distinction merely upon Miss Snevellicci. "I am sure you must be very tired," said That being clearly stated, I take it to be, the mammna, turning to Miss tievellicci. " I as it were, a duty, that we should extend cannot think of allowing you to go without our patronage to a degraded stage even for first taking a glass of wine. Fie, Charlotte, the sake of the associations with which it I am ashatned of you. Miss Lane, my dear, is entwined. Have you got two-and-six- pray see to the children." pence for half-a-crown, Miss Snevellicci 1" Miss Lane was the governess, and this said Mr. Curdle, turning over four of those entreaty was rendered necessary by the pieces of money. abrupt behaviour of the youngest. Miss Miss Snevellicci felt in all the corners of Borum, who, having filched the phenomethe pink reticule, but there was nothing in non's little green parasol, was frow carrying any of them. Nicholas murmured a jest it bodily off, while the distracted infant about his being an author, and thought it looked helplessly on. best not to go through the form of feeling "I am sure, where you ever learnt to act in his own pockets at all. as you do," said good-natured Mrs. Borum, "Let me see," said Mr. Curdle; "twice turning again to Miss Snevellicci, " I canfour's eight-fbur shillings a-piece to the not understand (Emma, don't stare so); noxes, Miss Snevellicci, is exceedingly dear laughing in one piece, and crying in the in the present state of the drama-three next, and so natural in all-oh, dear!" half-crowns is seven-and-six; we shall not "I am very happy to hear you express differ about sixpence, i suppose. Sixpence so favourable an opinion," said Miss Snewfill not part us, Miss Snevellicci?" vellicci. "It's quite delightful to think you Poor Miss Snevellicci took the three half- like it." crowns with many smiles and bends, and "Like it!" cried Mrs. borum. "Who Mrs. Curdle, adding several supplementary can help liking it! I would go to the play Directions relative to keeping the, places for twice a week if I could: I dote upon itthem, and dusting the seat, and sending only you're too affecting sometimes. You two clean bills as soon as they came out, do put me in such a state —into such fits of rang the bell as a signal for breaking up crying! Goodness gracious me, Miss Lane, the conference. how can you let them torment that poor " Odd people those," said Nicholas, when child so!" they got clear of the house. The phenomenon was really in a fair "I assure you," said Miss Snevellicci, way of being torn limb from limb, for twotaking his arm, "that I think myself very strong little boys, one holding on by each lucky they did not owe all the money in- of her hands, were dragging her in different stead of being sixpence short. Now, if you directions as a trial of strength. However, were to succeed, they would give people to Miss L,ane (who had herself been too much understand that they had always patronised occupied in contemplating the grown-up you; and if you were to fail, they would actors, to pay the necessary attention to have been quite certain of that from the these proceedings) rescued the unhappy very beginning." infant at this juncture, who, being recruited The next house they visited they were with a glass of wine, was shortly afterwards &n great glory, for there resided the six taken away by her friends, after sustaining children who were so enraptured with the no more serious dlnmage than a flattening public actions of the phenomenon, and who, of the pink gauze bonnet, and a rather exbeing called down from the nursery to be tensive creasing of the white frock and treated with a private view of that young trowsers. lady, proceeded to poke their fingers into It was a trying morning, for there were ner eyes, and tread upon her toes, and show a great many calls to make, and everybody her many other little attentions peculiar to wanted a different thing; some wanted their time of life. tragedies, and others comedies; some oh"I shall certainly persuade Mr. Borum jected to dancing, some wanted scarcely to take a private box," said the lady of the anything else. Some thought the comic house, after a most gracious reception. " I singer decidedly low, and others hoped he shall only take two of the children, and would have more to do than he usually will make up the rest of the party, of gen- had. Some people wouldn't promise to go, tlemen-your admirers, Miss Snevellicci. because other people wouldn't promise tu Augustus, you naughty boy, leave the little go; and other people wouldn't go at aL, girW alou n." because other people went. At length, and 160 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. by little and little, omitting something in fat gentleman in the pit, who, kloo ing eagerhis place, and adding something in that, ly towards the scene, remained unconscious Miss Snevcllicci pledged herself to a bill of the honour; the tailor and his family of fhre which was comprehensive enough, kicked at the panels of the upper boxes if it had nc other merit (it included among till they threatened to come out altogether; other trifles, four pieces, divers songs, a few the very,ginger-beer boy remained trans. combats, and several dances); and they re. fixed in the centre of the house; a young turned home pretty well exhausted with officer, supposed to entertain a passion for the business of the day. Miss Snevellicci, stuck his glass in his eye Nicholas worked away at the piece, as though to hide a tear. Again and again which was speedily put into rehearsal, and Miss Snevellicci curtseyed lower and lower, then.worked away at his own part, which and again and again the applause came he studied with great perseverance and down louder and louder. At length when acted-as the whole company said-to per- the phenomenon picked up one of the fection. And at length the great day ar- smoking wreaths and put it on sideways rived. The crier was sent round in the over Miss Snevellicci's eye, it reached its morning to proclaim the entertainments climax, and the play proceeded. with sound of bell in all the thoroughfares; But when Nicholas came on for his track extra bills of three feet long by nine inches scene with Mrs. Crummles, what a clap. wide, were dispersed in all directions; flung ping of hands there was! When Mrs. down all the areas, thrust' under all the Crunmmles (who was his unworthy mother), knockers, and developed in all the shops; sneered, and called him "presumptuous they were placarded on all the walls too, boy," and he defied her, what a tumult of though not with complete success, for an applause came on! When he quarrelled illiterate person having undertaken this of- with the other gentleman about the young fice during the indisposition of the regular lady, and producing a case of pistols, said, bill-sticker, a part were posted. sideways that if he was a gentleman, he would fight and the remainder upside down. him in that drawing-room, till the furniture was sprinkled with the blood of one, if not At half-past five there was a rush of four of two —-how boxes, pit, and gallery joined people to the gallery-door; at a quarter be- if two ot yigorous cheer When hefore six there were at least a dozen; at six fore six there were at least a dozen; at six called his mother names, because she would o'clock the kicks were terrific; and when not l the not gzve up: the young lady's property, and the elder master Crummles opened the door, she relentingu caused him to relent like. he was obliged to run behind it for his life. wise, a nd fall down on one knee and ask -^. 51-.. >. wise, and fall down on one knee and ask Fifteen shillings were taken by Mrs. Grud- her blessing, how the ladies in the audience sobbed! When he was hid behind the cur. Behind the scenes the same unwonted tain in the dark, and the wicked relation excitement prevailed. Miss Snevellicci was poked a sharp sword in every direction. in such a perspiration that the paint would save where his legs were plainly visible, scarcely stay on her face. Mrs. Crummles what a thrill of anxious fear ran through was so nervous that she could hardly re- the house! His air, his figure, his walk, member her part. Miss Bravassa's ringlets his look, everything he said or did, was the came out of curl with the heat of anxiety; subject of commendation. There was a even Mr. Crummles himself kept peeping round of applause every time he spoke.through the hole in the curtain, and running And when at last, in the pump-and-tub back every now and tlwn to announce that scene, Mrs. Grudden lighted the blue fire, another man had come into the pit. and all the unemployed members of the At last the orchestra left off, and the cur- company came in, and tumbled down in tain rose upon the new piece. The first various directions-not because that had scene, in' which there was nobody particu- anything to do with the plot, but in order lar, passed off calmly enough, but when to finish off with a tableau-the audience Miss Snevellicci went on in the second, (who had by this time increased consideraaccompanied by the phenomenon as child, bly) gave vent to such a shout of enthurwhat a roar of applause broke out! The siasm, as had not been'heard in those walls people in the Borum box rose as one man, for many and many a day. waving their hats and handkerchiefs, and In short, the success both of new pleze uttering shouts of "bravo!" Mrs. Borum and new actor was complete, and when Miss and the governess cast wreaths upon the Snevellicci was called fbr at the end (f stage, of which some fluttered into the the play, Nicholas led her on and divma*-,arlps, and onle crowned the temples of a the applause. NI-CHOLAS NICKLEBY. *1 CHAPTER XXV. CONCERNING A YOUNG LADY FROM LONDON, WHO JOINS THE COMPANY AND AN ELDERLY ADMIRPER WHO FOLLOWS IN HIER TRAIN; WITH AN AFFECT ING CEREMONY, CONSEQUENT ON THEIR -ARRIVAL. THE new piece being a decided hit, was in enormous characters-" First appear. announced for every evening of performance ance of the unrivalled Miss Petowker, of antil further notice, and the evenings when the Theatre Royal Drury Lane!" the ti-.atre was closed, were reduced from " Dear me!" said Nicholas, " I know three in the week to two Nor were these that lady." the only tokens of extraordinary success; "1 Then you are acquainted with as much for on the succeeding Saturday Nicholas talent as was ever compressed into one received, by favour of the indefatigable young person's body," retorted Mr. CrumMrs. Grudden, no less a sam: than thirty mles, rolling up the bills again; "that is, shillings; besides which substantial reward, talent of a certain sort-of a certain sort. he enjoyed considerable fame and honour,' The" Blood Drinker,"' aided Mr. Crumhaving a presentation copy of Mr. Curdle's mles with a prophetic:sigh, "' The Blood pamphlet forwarded to the theatre, with Drinker' will die with that girl; and she's that gentleman's own autograph (in itself the only sylph 1 ever saw who could stand an inestimable treasure) on the fly-leaf, upon one leg, and play the tambourine on accompanied with a note, containing many her other knee, like a sylph." expressions of approval, and an unsicited "When does she come down?" askedassurance that Mr. Curdle would be very Nicholas. happy to read Shakspeare to him for three "We expect her to-day," replied Mr. hours every morning before breakfast dur. Crummles. " She is an old friend of Mrs. ing his stay in the town. Crummles's. Mrs. Crummles saw whlat' i've got another novelty, Johnson," she could do-always knew it from the said Mr. Crummles one morning in great first. She taught her, indeed, nearly all glee. she knows. Mrs. Crummles was the ori"What's that? " rejoined Nicholas.- ginal Blood Drinker." "The pony! " "Was she, indeed?"'No, no, we never come to the pony till "Yes. She was obliged to give it up everything else has failed," said Mr. though." Crummles. 1" I don't think we shall come "Did it disagree with her?" asked Nich. to the pony at all this season. No, no, not olas, smiling. the pony." "Not so much with her, as with her " A boy phenomenon, perhaps 1" suggest- audiences," replied Mr. Crummrles. " No. ed Nicholas. body could stand it. It was too tremen. "There is only one phenomenon, Sir," dous. You don't quite know what Mrs. replied Mr. Crummles impressively, "and Crummles is, yet." that's a girl." Nicholas ventured to insinuate that he' Very true," said Nicholas. " I beg thought he did. your pardon. Then I don't: know what it " No, no, you don't," said Mr. Crummles, is, I am sure." " you don't, indeed. I don't, and that's a ". What should you say to a young lady fact; I don't think her country will till she from London?" inquired Mr. Crummles, is dead. Some new proof of talent bursts " Miss So-and-so, of the Theatre Royal, from that astonishing- woman every year of Drury Lane?" her life. Look at her-mother of six chit "I should say she would look very well dren —three of'em alive, and all upon the m the bills," said Nicholas. stage!" "You're about right there," said Mr. "Extraordinary!" cried Nicholas. Crumm-es; " and if you had said she would "Ah! extraordinary indeed," *reloined look very well upon the stage too, you Mr. Crummles, taking a complacent pinch wouldn't have been far out. Look here; of snuff, and shaking his head gravely. what do you think of that?" "I pledge you my professional word I didn't With this inquiry Mr. Crummles sever- even know she could dance till her last ally unfolded a red poster, and a blue pos- benefit, and then she played: Juliet and e-r and a yellow poster, at the top of each Helen Macgregor, and did the skipping.rop6 i which public nntifiction was inscribed hornpipe between the pieces. The verr, Itf2 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. tirst time I saw that admirable woman, Nicholas had the honour of playing m a Johnson," said Mr. Crummles, drawing a slight piece with Miss Petowker that night, little nearer, and speaking in the tone of and could not but observe that the warmth cnnfidential friendship, "she stood - upon of her reception was mainly attributable to her head on the butt-end of a spear, sur- a most persevering umbrella in the upper rounded with blazing fire-works."' boxes; ne saw, too, that the enchanting "You astonish me!" said Nicholas. actress cast many sweet looks towards the " She astonished me!" returned Mr. quarter whence these sounds proceeded, and Crummles, with a very serious countenance. that every time she did so the umbrella "Such grace, coupled with such dignity! broke out afresh. Once he thought that a I adored her from that moment." peculiarly shaped hat in the same corner The arrival of the gifted subject of these was not wholly unknown to him, but being remarks put an abrupt termination to Mr. occupied with his share of the stage busiCrummles's eulogium, and almost imme- ness he bestowed no great attention upon diately afterwards, Master Percy Crummles this circumstance, and it had quite vanished entered with a letter, which had arrived by from his memory by the time he reached the General Post, and was directed to his home. gracious mother; at sight of the super- He had just sat down to supper with scription whereof, Mrs. Crumrnles exclaim- Smike, when one of the people of the house ed, " From Henrietta Petowker, I do came outside the door, and announced that leclare!" and instantly became absorbed in a gentleman below stairs wished to speak she contents. to Mr. Johnson. " Is it-." inquired Mr. Crummles, " Well, if he does, you must tell him to hesitating. come up, that's all I know," replied Nich"Oh yes, it's all right," replied Mrs. olas. "One of our hungry brethren, I supCrummles, anticipating the question.- pose, Smike." "What an excellent thing for her, to be His fellow-lodger looked at the cold meat, sure'" in silent calculation of the quantity that " It's the best thing altogether that I ever would be left for dinner next day, and put heard of, I think," said Mr. Crummles; and back a slice he had cut for himself, in order then Mr. Crummles, Mrs. Crummles, and that the visiter's encroachments might be Master Percy Crummles all fell to laughing less formidable in their effects. violently. Nicholas left them to enjoy "It is not anybody who has been her their mirth together, and walked to his before," said Nicholas, "for he is tumblin, lodgings, wondering very much what rmys- up every stair. Come in, come in. In the tery connected with Miss Petowker could name of wonder-Mr. Lillyvick!" provoke such merriment, and pondering It was, indeed, the collector of water still more on the extreme surprise with rates, who, regarding Nicholas with a fixed wNlhich that lady would regard his sudden look and immoveable countenance, shook enlistment in a profession of which she hands with most portentous solemnity, and was suctr a distinguished and brilliant orna- sat himself down in a seat by the chimneyment.: corner. But in this latter respect he was mista-' "Why, when did you come here 1" asked ken; for-whether Mr. Vincent Crummles Nicholas. had paved the way, or Miss Petowker had " This morning, Sir," replied Mr. Lilly some special reason for treating him with vick. even more than her usual amiability-their "' Oh! I see; then you were at the thea. meeting at the theatre next day was more tre to-night, and it was your umb " like that of two dear friends who had been " This umbrella," said Mr. Lillyvick, inseparable from infancy, than arecognition nroducing a fat green cotton one with a passing between a lady and gentleman who twb"ered ferrule: "what did you think of had only met some half-dozen times, and trn- performance." then by mere chance. Nay, Miss Petow- *"So far as I could judge, being on the ker even whispered that she had wholly stage," replied Nichoias,'I thought it dropped the Kenwigses in her conversa- very agreeable.". tions with the manager's family, and had "Agreeable!" cried the collector. "I represented herself as having encountered mean to say, Sir, that it was delicious." AMr. Jollnsbn in the very first and most Mr. Lillyvick bent forward topronounce fttshionable circles; and on Nicholas receiv- the last word with greater emphasis; and ring this intelligence with unfeigned sur- having done so, drew himself up, and prise, she added with a sweet glance that frowned and nodded a great many times. she had a claim on his good-nature now, "I say, delicious," repeated Mr. Lily tld might tax it before long. vick. "Absorbing, fairy-like, toomultst NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 163 pus.' And again Mr. Lillyvick drew him- "Why, then, he us a lu i&y follow," roself up, and again he frowned and nodded. plied Nicholas. "Ah!" said Nicholas, a little surprised "That's what I say,"' retorted the col at these symptoms of ecstatic approbation. lector, patting him benignantly on the side Yes-she is a clever girl." of the head with his umbrella " just what She is a divinity," returned Mr.: illy-I say: Henrietta Petowker, the talented Henrietta Petowker, has a fortune in hervick, giving a collector's double knock on Henrietta Petowker, has a fortune in he the ground with his umbrella before-men- self, and I am going to — u" tioned. "I have known divine actresses o make her Mrs. llyvick" su before now, Sir; I used to collect- at geste Nicholas. least I used to call for-and very often call "No, Sir, not to make her Mrs. Lillyfor-the water-rate at the house of a divine vick," replied the collector. "Actresses, actress, who lived in my beat for upwards Sir, always keep their maiden names, that of four year, but never-no, never, Sir- is the regular thing-but I'm going to of all divine creatures, actresses or no ac- marry her; and the day after to-mrrow tresses, did I see a diviner one than is too. Henrietta Petowker." "I congratulate you, Sir," said Nicholas. "i Thank you, Sir," replied the collector, Nicholas had much ado to preventhim- buttoning his waistcoat. "I shall draw self from laughing; not trusting himself her salary, of course, and I hope after all to speak, he merely nodded in accordance that it's nearly as cheap to keep two as it with Mr. Lillyvick's nods, and remained is to keep one.; that's a consolation." silent. "Surely you don't want any consola. - "Let me speak a word with you In pr- ion at such a moment " observed Nicho vate," said Mr. Lillyvick. las Nicholas looked good-humouredly at "No," replied Mr. Lillyvlck, shakin Smike, who, taking the hint, disappeared. his head nervously: "no-of course not. "A bachelor is a miserable wretch, Sir," "But how come you both here, if you're said Mr. Lillyvick. going to be married, Mr. Lillyvick." asked "Is he?" asked Nicholas. Nicholas. "He is," rejoined the collector. "I 1" Why, that's what I came to explain to have lived in the world for nigh sixty year, you," replied the collector of water-rate.and I ought to. know what it is." "The fact is, we have thought it best to " You ought to know certainly," thought keep it secret from the family." Nicholas; "but whether you do or not, is "Family!" said Nicholas. "'What faanother question." mily 3" " If a bachelor happens to have saved a "The Kenwigses of course," rejoined little matter of money," said Mr. Lillyvick, Mr. Lillyvick. 4"If my niece and the chil" his sisters and brothers, and nephews and dren had known a word about it before 1 nieces, look to that money, and not to him; came away, they'd have gone into fits at even if by being a public character he is my feet, and never have come out of'em the head of the flimily, or as it may be till I took an oath not to marry anybodythe main from which all the other little or they'd have got out a commission of branches are turned on, they still wish him lunacy, or some dreadful thing," said the dead all the while, and get low-spirited collector, quite trembling as he spoke. every time they see him looking in good "To be sure," said Nicholas. "Yes; health, because they want to come into his they would have been jealous, no doubt." little property. You see that 3" To prevent which," said Mr. Lillvvick, "0, yes," replied Nicholas: "it's very 1" Henrietta Petowker (it was settled betrue, no doubt." tween us) should come down here to her "4The great reason for not being mar- friends, the Crummleses, under pretence ried," resumed Mr. Lillyvick, "is the ex- of this engagement, and I should go down pens; that's what's kept me off, or else- to Guildford the day before, and join her on oir;:.!" said Mr. Lillyvick, snapping his the coach there, which I did, and we came fingsrs, " I might have had fifty women." down from Guildford yesterday together."Fine women?" asked Nicholas. Now, for fear you should be writing to Mr.'Fine women, Sir!" replied the collec- Noggs, and might say anything about:us, tor; " ay! not so fine as Henrietta Petow- we have thought it best to let you into thl ker, for she is an uncommon specimen, but secret. We shall be married from the such women as don't fall into every man's Crummleses' lodgings, and shall be deligh' way, I can tell you that. Now suppose a ed to see yol —either before church or at man can get a fortune in his wife instead breakfast-time, which you like. It won't of with her -elh!. be expensive, y mu know " said the collectcr 164 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. kighly anxious to prevent any misunder- the forthcoming ceremony, it pacsed with standing on this point; "just muffins and great rapidity, insomuch that when Miss eoffee, with perhaps a shrimp or something Petowker awoke on the succeeding mornof that sort for a relish, you know." ing in the chamber of Miss Snevellicci, she "Yes, yes, I understand," replied Ni- declared that nothing should ever persuade cholas. "' Oh, I shall be most happy to her that that really was the day which was come; it will give me the greatest plea- to behold a change in her condition. sure. Where's the lady stopping-with "I never will believe it," said Miss PeMrs. Crummles?" towker; "I cannot really. It's of no use " Why, no," said the collector; "they talking, I never can make up my mind to couldn't very well dispose of her at night, go through with such a trial!" and so she is staying with an acquaintance On hearing this, Miss Snevellicci and of hers, and another young lady; they Miss Ledrook, who knew perfectly well both. belong to the theatre." that their fair friend's mind had been made "I Miss Snevellicci, I suppose?" said Ni- up for three or four years, at any period of cholas. which time she would have cheerfully un" Yes, that's tne name." dergone the desperate trial now approach. s"And they'll bebridesmaids, Ipresume'" ing if she could have found any eligible said Nicholas. gentleman disposed for the venture, began " Why," said the collector, with a rueful to preach comfort and firmness, and to say face, "they will have four bridesmaids; how very proud she ought to feel that it I'm afraid they'll make it rather theatri- was in her power to confer lasting bliss on cal." a deserving object, and how necessary it Oh Io, not at all," replied Nicholas, was for the happiness of mankind in genewith an awkward attempt to convert a ral that women should possess fortitude and laugh into a cough. " Who may the four resignation on such occasions; and that ae Miss Snevellicci of course — Miss although for thelr parts they held true hap. Ledrook-" piness to consist in a single life, which ";The —the phenomenon," groaned the they would not willingly exchange-no,,aollector. not for any worldly consideration —still " Ha, ha!" cried Nicholas.'4I begn your (thank God), if ever the time should come, pardon, I don't know what I'm laughing they hoped they knew their duty too well:at —yes, that'll be very pretty-the phe- to repine, but would the rather submit with nomenon —who else?" meekness and humility of spirit to a fate "Some young woman or other," replied for which Providence had clearly designed the collector, rising; "some other friend of them with a view to the contentment and Henrietta Petowker's. Well, you'll be reward of their fellow-creatures. careful not to say anything. about it, will I might feel it was a great blow," said you?'" v 11 You ma sfey epn uonme" r-Miss Snevellicci, " to break up old associat p"You may safely depend upon me," re- tions and what-do-you-callems of that kind, plied Nicholas. "Won't you take anything but I would submit my dear, I would into eat or drink y"d " No," said the collector; "I haven't any So would I," said Miss Ledrook; appetite. I should think it was a very would rather court the yoke tan shun it. pleasant life, the married one —eh?" pleasant life, the married one-eh?" would rather court the yoke than shun it. "I have not the least doubt of it," re-'I have broken hearts before now, and I'm joined Nicholas. very sorry for it: for it's a terrible thing to "Yes," said the collector;,' certainly. reflect upon!" Oh yes. No doubt. Good night." It is indeed," said Miss Snevellicci.With these words, Mr. Lillyvick, whose "Now Led, my dear, we must positively manner had exhibited through the whole get her ready, or we shall be too late, we of this interview a most extraordinary com- shall indeed." pound of precipitation, hesitation, confi- This pious reasoning, and perhaps the dence and doubt; fondness, misgiving, fear of being too late, supported the bride meanness, and self-importance, turned his through the ceremony of robing, after back upon the room, and left Nicholas to which, strong' tea and brandy were admienjoy a laugh by himself if he felt so dis- nistered in alternate doses as a means of posed. strengthening her feeble limbs and causing Without stopping to inquire whether the her to walk steadier. intervening day appeared to Nicholas to " How do you feel now, my love 1" en consist of the usual number of hours of the quired Miss Snevellicci. or linary length, it may be remarked that, "Oh Lillyviek!" cried the bride —" If to the parties more directly interested in you knew what I am undergoing for Vo!n!" NICHO LAS NICKLEBY. ]65 "Of course ne knows it, love, and will as his second on the occasion in the other never foroet it," said Miss Iedrook. wvere the bride, Mr. Crurnmles, Miss Sne"I)o you think he won't?" cried Miss vellicci, Miss Ledrook, and the phenomenon. Petowker, really showing great capability The costumes were beautiful. The bridesfor the stage.'"Oh, doyou think he won'tl maids were quite covered with artificial Do you think Lillyvick will always renem- flowers, and the phenomenon, in particular, ber it —always, always, always " was rendered almost invisiLt 3 by the portable There is no knowing in what this burst arbour in which she was enshrined. Miss of feeling might have ended, if Miss Sne- Ledrook, who was of a romantic turn, wore velli.ci had not at that moment proclaimed in her breast the miniature of some field. the arrival of the fly, which so astounded officer unknown, which she had purchased a the bride that she shook off divers alarming great bargain, not very long before; the symptoms which were coming on very other ladies displayed several dazzling ai tistrong, and running to the glass adjusted cles of imitative jewellery, almost equal her dress, and calmly declared that she was to real; and Mrs. Crummles came out in ready for the sacrifice. a stern and gloomy majesty, which attractShe was accordingly supported into the ed the admiration of all beholders. coach, and there " kept up" (as Miss Sne- But, perhaps the appearance of Mr. vellicci said) with perpetual sniffs of sal Crummles was more striking and appro. volatile and sips of brandy and other gentle priate than that of any member of the stimulants, until they reached the mana- party. This gentleman, who personated gers door, which was already opened by the bride's father, had, in pursuance of a the two master Crummleses, who wore happy and original conception, "made up" white cockades, and were decorated with for the part by arraying himself in a thethe choicest and most resplendent waist- atrical wig, of a style and pattern comcoats in the theatrical wardrobe. By the monly known as a brown George, and more. combined exertions of these young gentle- over assuming a snuff-coloured suit, of the men and the bridesmaids, assisted by the previous century, with grey silk stockings, coachman, Miss Petowker was at length and buckles to his shoes. The better to supported in a condition of much exhaus- support his assumed. character he had de. tion to the first floor, where she no sooner termined to be greatly overcome, and, conencountered the youthful bridegroom than sequently, when they entered the church, she fainted with great decorum. the sobs of the affectionate parent were se "Henrietta Petowker!" said the collec- heart-rending that the pew-opener suggesttor; "cheer up, my lovely one." ed the propriety of his retiring to the vestry, Miss Petowker grasped the collector's and comforting himself with a glass of water hand, but emotion choked her utterance. before the ceremony began. "Is the sight of me so dreadful, Henri- The procession up the aisle was beau. etta Petowker 3" said the collector. tiful. The bride, with the four bridesmaids, "Oh, no, no, no," rejoined the bride; forming a group previously arranged and "but all the friends-the darling friends- rehearsed; the collector, followed by his of my youthful days-to leave them all — second, imitating his walk and gestulres, to it is such a shock!" the indescribable amusement of some theWith such expressions of sorrow, Miss atrical friends in the gallery; Mr. Crum. Petowker went on to enumerate the dear mles, with an infirm and feeble gait; Mrs. friends of her youthful days one by one, Crummles advancing with that stage walk, and to call upon such of them as were pre- which consists of a stride and a stop altersent to come and embrace her. This done, nately-it was the completest thing ever she remembered that Mrs. Crummles had witnessed. The ceremony was very quickly been more than a mother to her, and after disposed of, and all parties present having that, that Mr. Crummles had been more signed the register (for which purple, than a father to her, and after that, thft the when it came to his turn, Mr. Crumrnles Master Crummleses and Miss Ninetta Crum- carefully wiped and put on an immense. mles had been.more than brothers and sis- pair of spectacles), they went. back to ters to her. These various remembrances breakfast in high -spirits. And here they being each accompanied with a series of found Nicholas awaiting their arrival. lhugs, occupied a long time, and they were "Now then," said Crummles, who had obliged to drive to church very fast, for been assisting Mrs. Grudden in the prepafear they should be too late. rations, which were: on a more extensive The procession consisted of two flys; in scale than was quite agreeable to the colthe first of which were Miss Bravassa (the lector. ",Breakfast, breakfast." fourth bridesmaid), Mrs. Crummles, the co- No second invitation was required. Thie lector, and Mr Folair, who had been chosen company crowded and soueered themselve, 166 NICI-IOLAS NICKLEBY. at the table as well as they could, and fell going into it of one's own accord and gloryb to. immediately: Miss Petowker blushing ing in the act!" very much when anybody was looking, and "I didn't mean to make it out, that you eating very much when anybody was not were caught and trapped, and pinned by Iookino'; and Mr. Lillyvick going to work the leg," replied the actor. "I'm sorry for as though with the cool resolve, that since it; I can't say any more." the good things must be paid for by him,' So you ought to be, Sir," returned Mr. he would leave as little as possible for the Lillywick; "and I am glad to hear that Crummleses to eat up afterwards. you have enough of feelinfg left to be so." "It's very soon done, Sir, isn't it?" in- The quarrel appearing to terminate with quired Mr. Folair of the collector, leaning this reply, Mrs. Lillyvick considered that over the table to address him. the fittest occasion (the attention of the "What is soon done, Sir t" returned Mr. company being no longer distracted) to burst Lillyvick. into tears, and require the assistance of all "The tying up-the fixing oneself with four bridesmaids, which was immediately a wife," replied Mr. Folair. " It don't take rendered, though not without some confut lung, does it?" sion, for the roomn being small and the," No, Sir," replied Mr. Lillyvick, colour- table-cloth long, a whole detachment of iag. "It does not take long. And what plates were swept off the board at the very then, Sir T" first move. Regardless of this circurn" Oh! nothing," said the actor. "It don't stance, however, MrS. Lillyvick refused to take a man long to hang himself, either, be comforted until the belligerents had eh? ha, ha!" passed their words that the dispute should Mr. Liliyvick laid down his knife and be carried no further, which, after a suffork, and looked round the table with indig- ficient show of reluctance, they did, and nant astonishment. from that time Mr. Folair sat in moody " To hang himself!" repeated Mr. Lilly- silence, contenting thipnself with pinching vick. Nicholas's leg when anything was said, and A profound silence came upon all, for Mr. so expressing his contempt both for the Lilyvick was dignified beyond expression. speaker and the sentiments to which h}o " To hang himself!" cried Mr. Lillyvick gave utterance..gain. "Is any parallel attempted to be There were a great number of speeches drawn in this company between matrimony made, some by Nicholas, and some by and hanging " Crummles, and some by the collector; two "The noose, you know," said Mr. Folair, by the master Crummleses in returning a little crest-fallen. thanks for themselves, and one by the phe. "The noose, Sir?" retorted Mr. Lilly- nomenon on behalf of the bridesmaids, at vick. " Does any man dare to speak to me which Mrs. Crummles shed tears. There of a noose, and Henrietta Pe-" was some singing, too, from Miss Ledrook "Lillyvick," suggested Mr. Crummles. and Miss Bravassa, and very likely there -'"and Henrietta Liilyvick in thle same might have been more, if the fly-driver, breath?" said the collector. " In this house, who stopped to drive the happy pair to the in the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Crummles, spot where they proposed to take steamwho have brought up a talented and vir- boat to Ryde, had not sent in a peremptory tuous family, to be blessings and pheno- message intimating, that if they didn't menons, and what not, are we here to talk come directly he should infallibly demand of nooses?" eghteen-pence over and above his agree"Folair," said Mr. Crummniles, deeming it ment. a matter of decency to be affected by this This desperate threat effectually brohk sa usion to himself and partner, "I'm as- upthe party. After a most pathetic leavetonished at you." talking, Mr. Lillyvick and his bride depart. " What are you going on in this way at ed for Ryde, where they were to spend the me for " urged the unfortunate actor. next two days in profound retirement, and "What have I done?" whither they were accompanied by the " Done, Sir!" cried Mr. Lillyvicl:, "aim- infant, who had been appointed travelling ed a blow at the whole frame-work of so- bridesmaid on Mr. Lillyvick's express stip. ciety-" ulation, as the steam-boat people, deceived "And the best and tenderest feelings," by her size, would (he had previously asadded Crummles, relapsing into the old man. certained) transport her at half-price. "And the highest and most estimable of As there was no performance that night, wocial ties," said the collector. "Noose! Mr. Crummles declared his intention o. As if one was caught, trapped into the mar- keeping it up till everything to drink was tied Btate, pinned b- the leg, instead of disposed of; but Nicholas having to Dlay NiCHOLAS NICKL EBY. 161 Romeo for the first time on the ensuing Thus they continued to ask each cthler tvening, contrived to slip away in the midst who called so loud, over and over agin of a teml)orary confusion, occasioned by the and when Smike had that by heart, N ichunexpected development of strong symp- olas went to another sentence, and then to toms of inebriety in the conduct of Mrs. two at a time, and then to three, and so oni Grudden. until at midnight poor Smike found to his To this act of desertion he was led, not unspeakable joy that he really began to only by his own inclinations, but by his remember something about the text. anxiety on account of Smike, who, having Early in the morning they went to it to sustain the character of the Apothecary, again, and Smike, rendered more confided; had been as yet wholly unable to get any by the progress he had already made, get more of the part into his head than the on faster and with better heart. As.ia general idea that he was very hungry, as he began to acquire the words pretty which —perhaps from old recollections-he freely, Nicholas showed him how he must had acquired with great aptitude. come in with both hands spread out upor " I don't know what's to be done, Smike," his stomach, and how he must occasionally said Nicholas, laying down the book. " I rub it, in compliance with the established am afraid you can't learn it, my poor fel- form by which people on the stage always low." denote that they want something to eat."I am afraid not," said Smike, shaking After the morning's rehearsal they went to his head. " I think if you-but that would work again, nor did they stop, except for a give you so much trouble." hasty dinner, until it was time to repair to "What " inquired Nicholas. "Never the theatre at night. mind me." Never had master a more anxious, hum. "I think," said Smike, "if you were to ble, docile pupil. Never had pupil a more keep saying it to me in little bits, over and patient, unwearying, considerate, kind. over again, I should be able to recollect it hearted master. from hearing you." As soon as they were dressed, and at " Do you think so!" exclaimed Nicholas. every interval when he was not upon the "Well said. Let us see who tires first.- stage, Nicholas renewed his instructions. Not I, Smike, trust me. Now then.'Who They prospered well. The Romeo wascalls so loud 3"' received with hearty plaudits and un. "'Who calls so loud.' " said Smike. bounded favour, and Smike was pronounced "' Who calls so loud'" repeated Nich- unanimously, alike by audience and actorq olas. the very prince and prodigy of Apotheca "' Who calls so loud? " cried Smike. ries. CHAPTER XXVI. IS FRAUGHT WITH SOME DANGER TO MISS NICKLEBY'S PEACE OF MIN-D. TnV place was a handsome suite of pri- I being called into request, for not a wore,ate apartments in Regent.street; the time was exchanged between the twc,. ncr was was three o'clock in the afternoon to the I any sound uttered, save when one, in toss. dull and plodding, and the first hour of ing about to find an easier resting-plate morning to the gay and spirited; the per- for his aching head, uttered an exclamatin sons were Lord Frederick Verisopht, and of impatience, and seemed for the moment his friend Sir Mulberry Hawk. to communicate a new restlessness to hia These distinguished gentlemen were re- companion. edini.lg listlessly on a couple of sofas, with These appearances would in themselves a table between them, on which were scat- have furnished a pretty strong clue to the tered in rich confusion the materials of an extent of the debauch of the previous night, untasted breakfast. Newspapers lay strewn even if there had not been other indications about the room, but these, like the meal, of the amusements in which it had beea were neglected and unnoticed; not, how- passed.. A couple of billiard balls, all mud ever, because any flow of conversation pre- and dirt, two battered hats, a champagne vrented the attractions of the journals from bottle with a soiled glove twisted round the Ul 1d08 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY.:ieck, to allow of its being grasped more then. You distrust mne in the businesa-. surely in its capacity of an offensive weapon; you shall find her out yourself:" a broken cane; a card-case without the top; 1" Na-ay," remonstrated Lord Verisolant an empty purse; a watch-guard snapped "But I say yes," returned his friend. asunder; a nandful of silver, mingled with "You shall find her out yourself. Don't fragments of half-smoked cigars, and their think that I mean, when you can-I know stale and crumbled ashes;-these, and many as well as you that if I did, you could never other tokens of riot and disorder, hinted very get sight of her without me. No. I say intelligibly at the nature of last night's gen- you shall find her out-shall-and I'll pu tlemanly frolics; you in the way." Lord Frederick Verisopht was the first "Now, curse me, if you ain't a real, deyto speak. Dropping his slippered foot on vlish, downright, thorough-paced friend,' the ground, and yawning heavily, he strug- said the young Lord, on vhom this speech gled into a sitting posture, and turned his had produced a most reviving effect. dull languid eyes towards his friend, to "I'il tell you how," said Sir Mulberry. whom he called in a drowsy voice. "She was at that dinner as a bait for you." "Hallo!" replied Sir Mulberry, turning "No!" cried the young Lord. "What round. the dey-" "Are we going to lie here all da-a-y." "As a bait for you," repeated his friend; said the Lord. "old Nickleby told me so himself." "I don't know that we're fit for anything "What a fine old cock it is!" exclaimed else," replied Sir Mulberry; " yet awhile, Lord Verisopht; "a noble rascal!" at least. I haven't a grain of life in me this I" Yes," said Sir Mulberry, " he knew she morning.", was a smart little creature —","Life!" cried Lord Verisopht. "I feel "Smart!" interposed the young lord. as if there would be nothing so snug and "Upon my soul, Hawk, she's a perfect comfortable as to die at once." beauty —a —a picture, a statue, a-a-upon "Then why don't you die!" said Sir my soul she is!" Mulberry. "Well," replied Sir Mulberry, shrugging With which inquiry he turned his face his shoulders and manifesting an indiffer away, and seemed to occupy himself in an ence, whether he felt it or not; "that's a attempt to fall asleep. matter of taste; if mine doesn't agree with His hopeful friend and pupil drew a chair yours, so much the better." to the breakfast-table, and essayed to eat; "Confound it!" reasoned the lord, "yot but, finding that impossible, lounged to the were thick enough with her that day, any window, then loitered up and down the how. I could hardly get in a word." room with his hand to his fevered head,'" Well enough for once, well enough foand finally threw himself again on his sofa, once," replied Sir Mulberry; "but no, and roused his friend once more. worth the trouble of being agreeable to'What the devil's the matter!" groaned'again. If you seriously want to follow up Sir Mulberry, sitting upright on the couch. the niece, tell the uncle that you must Although Sir Mulberry said this with suf- know where she lives, and how she lives, ficient ill-humour, he did not seem to feel and with whom, or you are no longer a cushimself quite at liberty to remain silent; tomer of his. He'll tell you fast enough." for, after stretching himself very often, and "Why didn't you say this before?" askled declaring with a shiver that it was " infer- Lord Verisopht, "instead of letting me go nal cold," he made an experiment at the on burning, consuming, dragging out a breakfast-table, and proving more success- miserable existence for an a-age?" fu1 in it than his less-seasoned friend, re- "I didn't know it, in the first place," an. mained there. swered Sir Mulberry carelessly; "and in "Suppose," said Sir Mulberry, pausing the second, I didn't believe you were se with a morsel on the point of his fork, very much in earnest." " Suppose we go back to the subject of little Now, the truth was that in the interva, Nickleby, eh'" which had elapsed since the dinner at Ralph "Which little Nickleby; the money- Nickleby's, Sir Mulberry Hawk had beep lender or the ga- al " asked Lord Verisopht. furtively trying by every means in hm "You take me, I see," replied Sir Mu]- power to discover whence Kate had so sudterry. "The girl, of course." denly appeared, and whither she had dis6 You promised me you'd find her out," appeared. Unassisted by Ralph, however, alid Lord Verisopht. with whom he had held no communication " So 1 did," rejoined his friend; "but I since their angry Darting on that occasion, srve thought further of the matter since all his efforts were wholly unavailing, and NICHIOLAS NICKLEBY. 169,e had theref6re arrived at the determina- "You know she's a deyv'lish fine'girl," tio i of(ommunicating to the young lord the said the client. "You must know.that. substallce of the a(ltrdission he had gleaned Nickleby. Come, don't deny that." from that worthy. To this he was impelled "Yes, I believe she is considered so," by various considerations; among which replied Ralph. "Indeed, I know she is. the certainty of knowing whatever the If I did not, you are an authority on such weak young man knew was decidedly not points, and your taste, my lord-on all the least, as the desire of encountering the points, indeed-is undeniable." usurer's niece again, and using his utmost Nobody but the young man to whom arts tc reduce her pride, and revenge him- these words were addressed could have eelf for her contempt, was uppermost in his been deaf to the sneering tone in which thoughts. It was a politic course of pro- they were spoken, or blind to the look of e3eding, and one which could not fail to re- contempt by which they were accompanied. dound to his advantage in every point of But Lord Frederick Verisopht was both, view, since the very circumstance of his and took them to be con;plimentary. having extorted from Ralph Nickleby his "Well," he said, " p'raps ycu're a little real design in introducing his niece to such right, and p'raps you're a little wrong-a society, coupled with his extreme disinter. little of both, Nick.ebyv. Iwant to know estedness in communicating it so freely to where this beauty lives, that I may have his friend, could not but advance his inter- another peep at her, Nickleby." ests in that quarter, and greatly facilitate "Really —' Ralph began in his usual the passage of coin (pretty frequent and tones. speedy already) from the pockets of Lord "Don't talk so loud," cried the other, Frederick Verisopht to those of Sir Mul- achieving the great point of his lesson to a berry Hawk. miracle. "'I don't want Hawk to hear." Thus reasoned Sir Mu!berry, and in pur- "You know he is your rival, do you 1" suance of this reasoning he and his friend said Ralph, looking sharply at him. soon afterwards repaired to Ralph Nick- 4 He always is, d-a-amn him," replied the leby's, there to execute a plan of operations client; " and I want to steal a march upon concerted by Sir Mulberry himself, avow- him. Ha, ha, ha! He'll cut up so rough, edly to promote his friend's object, and Nickleby, at our talking together without really to attain his own. him. Where does she live, Nickleby, that's They found Ralph at home, and alone. all. Onily tell me where she lives, NickleAs he led them into the drawing-room, the by." recollection of the scene which had taken " He bites," thought Ralph. " He bites.' place there seemed to occur to him, for he " Eh, Nickleby, eh 3" pursued the client. cast a curious look at Sir Mulberry, who s "Where does she live." bestowed upon it no other acknowledgment "Really, my lord," said Ralph, rubbing than a careless smile. his hands slowly: over- each other, "I must They had a short conference upon some think before I tell you." money matters then in progress, which "No, not a bit of it, Nickleby; you were scarcely disposed of when the lordly mustn't think at all," replied Verisopht. dupe (in pursuance of his friend's instruc- "Where is it 3" tions) requested with some embarrassment "No good can come of your knowing," to speak to Ralph alone. replied Ralph. " She has been virtuously "Alone, eh." cried Sir Mulberry, affect- and well brought up; to be sure she is ing surprise. "Oh, very good. I'll walk handsome, poor, unprotected- poor girl into the next room here. Don't keep me poor girl." long, that's all." Ralph ran over this brief summary of So saying, Sir Mulberry took up his hat, Kate's condition as if it were merely pass. and humming a fragment of a song disap- ing through his own mind, and he had no peared through the door of communication intention to speak aloud; but the shrewd between the two drawing-rooms, and closed sly look which he directed at his companion it after him. as he'delivered it, gave this poor assump. "Now, my lord," said Ralph, "what is it!" tion the lie. N' ickleby," said his client, throwing him- "I tell you I only want to see her," cried self along the sofa on which he had been his client. "A ma-an may look at a pretty previously seated, so as to bring his lips woman without harm, mayn't he 3 Now, nearer to the old man's ear, "what a pretty where does she live 3 You know you're creature your niece is!" making a fortune out of me, Nickleby, and X Is she, my lord?" replied Ralph. "May- upon my soul nobody shall ever take me to e-m-naybe-I dan't trouble my head with anybody else, if you caly tell me this." such matters." %"A vou promise',at, my e-,",aiul Vevt~ 170 NICHOLAS N1CKLEBY. Ralph, with feignen reluctance, "and as I Hawk, as his friend looked ba ik, and starer, am most anxious to oblige you, and as there hiln in the face. is no harm in it-no harm-I'11 tell you.- It was, indeed, that well-intentioned lady, Blut you had better keep it to yourself, my who, having received an offer for the empty Lord; strictly-to yourself." Ralph pointed house in the city directed to the landlord, to the adjoining room as he spoke, and nod- had brought it post-haste to Mr. Nickleby ded expressively. without delay. The young lord feigning to be equally "Nobody you know," said Ralph. "Step impressed with the necessity of this pre- into the office, my —my-dear. I'll be with caution, Raqlph disclosed the present address you directly." and occupation of his niece, observing that "Nobody I know!" cried Sir Mulberry from what he heard of the family they Hawk, advancing to the astonished lady.appeared very ambitious to have distin- "Is this Mrs. Nickleby-the mother of guished acquaintances, and that a lord Mliss Nickleby-the delightful creature that could, doubtless, introduce himself with I had the happiness of meeting in this house great ease, if he felt disposed. the very last time I dined here! But no;" "Your object being only to see her said- Sir Mulberry, stopping short. " No, again," said Ralph, "you could effect it at it can't be. There is the same cast of fea-. any time yole chose by that means." tures, the same indescribable air of-But Lord Verisopht acknowledged the hint no; no. This lady is too young for that." with a great many squeezes of Ralph's'I think you can tell the gentleman, hard, horny hand; and, whispering that brother-in-law, if it concerns him to know,' they would now do well to close the con- said Mrs. Nickleby, acknowledging the versation, called to Sir Mulberry Hawk compliment with a graceful bend, " that that he might come back. Kate Nickleby is my daughter." "I thought you had gone to sleep," said "tIer daughter, my Lord!" cried Sir Sir Mulberry, re-appearing with an ill- Mulberry, turning to his friend. "This tempered air. lady's daughter, my lord." "Sorry to detain you," replied the gull; "My lord!" thought Mrs. Nickleby. — "but Nickleby has been so ama-azingly " Well, I never did-!" funny that I couldn't tear myself away." "This, then, my lord," said Sir Mul. "No, no," said Ralph; "it was all his berry, "is the lady to whose obliging mar lordship. You know what a witty, humor- riage we owe so much happiness. This ous, elegant, accomplished man Lord Fre- lady is the mother of sweet Miss Nickleby. derick is. Mind the step, my lord-Sir Do you observe the extraordinary likeness Mulberry, pray give way.' my Lord. Nickleby-introduce us." With such courtesies as these, and many Ralph did so, in a kind of desperation. low bows, and the same cold sneer upon " Upon my soul, it's a most delightful his face all the while, Ralph busied him- thing," said Lord Frederick, pressing for. self in showing his visiters down stairs, ward: "How de do!." and otherwise than by the slightest possible Mrs. Nickleby was too much flurried by motion about the corners of his mouth, re- these uncommonly kind salutations, and het turned no show of answer to the look of regrets at not having on her other bonnet admiration with which Sir Mulberry Hawk to make any immediate reply, so she merely Seemed to compliment him on being such continued to bend and smile, and betray an accomplished and most consummate great agitation. scoundrel A-and how is Miss Nickleby." said There had been a ring at the bell a few Lord Frederick. " Well, I hope?" moments before, which was answered by " She is quite well, I'm obliged to you Newman Noggs just as they reached the my lord," returned Mrs. Nickleby, recover. hall. In the ordinary course of business ing. "Quite well. She wasn't well fbl Newman would have either admitted the some days after that day she dined here, new-comer in silence, or have requested and I can't help thinling, that she caught haim or her to stand aside while the gentle- cold in that hackney-coach coming home. men passed out. But he no sooner saw Hackney-coaches, my lord, are such nasty who it was, than as if for some private rea- things that it's almost better to walk at any son of his own, he boldly departed from time, for although I believe a hackneythe established custom of Ralph's mansion coachman can be transported for life, if he n business hours, and looking towards the has a broken window, still they are so reck..espectable trio who were approaching, less, that they nearly all have broken wincried in a loud and sonorous voice, " Mrs. dows, I once had a swelled face for six Nickleby!" weeks, my lord, from riding in a hackney "Mrs. Nickleby'!" cried Sir M' carry coach- I think it was a hackny- ccach," NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 17] saill Mrs. Nickleby reflecting, "though I'm vel about in omnibuses, when my pool dear 4not quite certain, whether it wasn't a cha- Nicholas was alive, brother-in-law. But riot; at all events I know it was a dark as it is, you know-" green, with a very long number, beginning "Yes, yes," replied Ralph, impatiently, with a nought and ending with a nine-no, " and you had better get back before darlk." beginning with a nine, and ending with a "Thank you, brother-in-law,' so I had," nought, that was it, and of course the stamp returned Mrs. Nickleby. "I think I had office people would know at. once whether better say good bye, at once." it was a coach or a chariot if any inquiries "Not stop and-rests"' said Ralph, who were made there-however that was,:there seldom offered refreshments unless some. it was with a broken window, and there thing was to be got by it. was I for six weeks with a swelled face — Oh dear me, no," returned Mrs. Nickle. I think that was the very same hackney- by, glancing at the dial. coach, that we found out afterwards, had "Lord rlrederick," said Sir Mulberry, the top open all the time, and we should "we are going Mrs. Nickleby's way. never even have known it, if they hadn't We'll see her safe to the omnibus " charged us a shilling an hour extra for "By all means. Ye-es." having it open, which- it seems is the law, "Oh! I really couldn't think of it," said or was then, and a most: shameful law it Mrs. Nickleby. appears to be-I don't understand the sub- But Sir Mulberry Hawk and Lord Veri. ject, but I should say the Corn Laws could sopht were peremptory in their politeness, be nothing to that act of Parliament." and leaving'Ralph, who seemed to think, Having pretty well run herself out by not unwisely, that he looked less ridiculous his time, Mrs. Nickleby stopped as sud- as a mere spectator, than he would have 4enly as she had started off, and repeated done if he had taken any part in these pro that Kate was quite well. "Indeed," said ceedings, they quitted the house with Mrs. 1lrs. Ni~-kleby, "[ don't think she ever Nickleby between them; that good lady ii was better, since she had the hooping- a perfect ecstasy of satisfaction, no, less cough, scarlet-fever and measles, all at the with the attentions shown her by twd titled same time, and that's the fact." gentlemen, than with the conviction, that "; Is that letter for me I" growled Ralph, Kate might now pick and choose, at least pointing to the little packet Mrs. Nickleby between two large fortunes, and most unheld in her hand. exceptionable husbands. " For you, brother-in-law." replied Mrs. As she was carried away for the moment Nickleby, "and I walked all the way up by an irresistible train of thought, all conhere on purpose to give it you." neeted with her daughter's future greatness, "Ail the way up here!" cried Sir Mul- Sir Mulberry Hawk and his friend exoerry, seizing upon the chance of discover. changed glances over the top of the bonnet ing where Mrs.'Nickleby had come from.' which the poor lady so much regretted not "What a confounded distance! How far having left at home, and proceeded td dilate, do you call it now' " with great rapture, but much respect, on "How far do I call it!" said Mrs. Nick- the manifold perfctions of Miss Nickleby. leby. " Let me see. It's just a mile, from' "What a delight, what a comfort, what our door to the Old Bailey." a happiness, this amiable creature must be "No, no. Not so much as that," urged to you," said Sir Mulberry, throwing into Sir Mulberry. his voice an indication of the warmest " Oh! It is indeed," said Mrs. Nickleby. feeling. I' I appeal to his lordship." -" She is indeed, Sir," replied Mrs. Nick. " I should decidedly say it was a mile," leby; " she is the sweetest-tempered, kind remarked. Lord Frederick, with a solemn est-hearted creature-and so clever!" aspect. " She looks clayver," said Lord Veri "It must be; it can't be a yard less," sopht, with the air of a judge of cleverness..aid Mrs. Nickleby. " All down Newgate "I assure you she is, my lord," returhfe Street, all down Cheapside, all up Lombard Mrs. Nickleby. " When she was at school Street, down 0Gracechurch Street, and along in Devonshire, she was universally allowed Thames Street, as far as Spigwiffin's wharf. to be beyond all exception the very clever. Oh! It's a mile." est girl there, and there were a great many 1" Yes, oi second thoughts I should say it very clever ones too, and that's the truthwas," replied Sir Mulberry. " But you twenty-five young ladies, fifty guineas adon't surely mean' walk all the way Iyear without the et-ceteras,. both the Miss back 3" lowdles, the most accomplished, elegant, " Oh no," rejoined SIrs. Nickleby. "i I fascinating creatures-Oh dear me " said shall go back in v Jv ~ias. I didn't tra- Mrs. Nickleby, "I never shall forget what 172. NICHLOLAa; NICKLEBY. pleasure she used to give me and her poor -I think it must be Sir M ilberr.!'i And dear, papa, when she was at that school,- then her thoughts flew back to her old preiever-such a delighttfll letter every half- dictions, and the number of times she had year, telling us that sile was the first pupil said, that Kate with no fortune would marr, in-tile whole establishment, and had made better than other people's daughters mitt mope progress than, anybody else!. I can thousands; and, as she pictured with the scarcely bear to think of it even now. The brightness of a mother's fancy all the beauty girls wrote all the letters'themselves," and grace of the poor girl who had strug. added Mrs., Nickleby,;' and the writing- gled so cheerfully with her new life of imaster touched them up afterwards with a hardship and trial, her heart grew too full, magnifying glass and a silver pen; at least and the tears trickled down her face. 1 think they wvrote them, though Kate was Meanwhile, Ralph walked to and fio in never quite certain about that, because she his little back office, troubled in mind by didn't know the handwriting of hers again; what had just occurred. To say that Ralph but any way, I know it was a circular loved or cared for-in the most ordinary which they. all copied, and of, course it acceptation of those terms-any one, of was a very gratifying thing-very gratify- God's creatures, would be the wi]aest ficing." tion. Still, there had somehow stwien upon With similar recollections Mrs. Nickleby him from time.to time a thought of his beguiled the tjediousnes sof the way, until niece which was tinged with cimpassion they reached tile om1nibus, which the ex- and pity; breaking through the dull cloud treme politeness of her new friends would of dislike or indifference which darkened not allow them to leave until. it actually men and women in his eyes, there was, in started, when they took their hats, as Mrs. her case, the faintest gleam of light-a most Nickleby solemn!y; assured her hearers on feeble and sickly ray at the best of timesmany subsequent occasions, "completely but there it was, and it showed the poor off,", and kissed their straw-coloured kid, girl in a better and purer aspect than any gloves till they were no longer. visible. in which he had looked on human nature Mrs. Nickleby leant back in the' furthest yet. corner of the conveyance, and, closing her "I wish," thought Ralph, "I hadnever eyes, resigned herself to a host of, most done this. And yet it.will keep this boy pleasing meditations.,Kate had never said to me, while there is money to be made. a word about having met either of these Selling a girl-throwing her in the way of gentlemen; " that," she thought,', argues temptation, and insult, and coarse speech. that she is strongly prepossseed in favour Nearly two thousand pounds profit from of one of them." Then the question arose, him already though. Pshaw! match-making w hicli one could it be. The Lord- was the mothers do the same thing every day." youngest, and his title was certainly the He sat down, and, told the chances, -for grandest; still Kate was not the girl to be and against, on his fingers. swayed by such considerations as these. "If I had not put them in the right track " I will never put any constraint upon her to-day," thought Ralph, " this foolish woman inclinations," said Mrs. Nickleby to her- would have done so. Well If her daughself; "but upon my word I think there's ter is as true to herself as. she should be no comparison between his lordship and Sir from what I have seen, what harm ensues I Mulberry-Sir Mulberry is such an atten- A little' tez;ing, a little trumbling, a few tive, gentlemanly creature, so muci man- tears. Ye:s," said Ralph, aloud, as he ner: such a fine man, and has so much tc locktid his irao, safe. "She must take her say for himself. I hope it's Sir Mulberry- cha;;a. She nust take heI chawe." NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 173 CHAPTER XXVI1 MRS. NT'RLEBY BECOMES ACQUAINTED WITH MESSRS. PYKE ANI PUI CK WHOSE AFFECTION AND INTEREST ARE BEYOND ALL BOUNDS MRas. NICKLEBY nad not felt so proud and evening after her accidental introduct'ma mportant for many a day, as when, on to Ralph's titled friends; and dreams, M eaching home, she gave herself wholly up less prophetic and equally promising ro the pleasant visions which had accom- haunted her sleep that night. She was panied her on her way thither. Lady preparing for her frugal dinner next day, Mulberry Hawk —that was the prevalent still occupied with the same ideas-a little idea. Lady Mulberry Hawk!-On Tues- softened down perhaps by sleep and day. day last, at St. George's, Hanover. Square, light —when the girl who attended her, by the Right Reverend the Bishop of Llan- partly for company, and partly to assist in daff, Sir Mulberry Hawk, of Mulberry the household affairs, rushed into the room Castle, North Wales, to Catherine, only in unwonted agitation, and announced that daughter. of the late Nicholas Nickleby, two gentlemen were waiting in the passage Esquire, of Devonshire. 1" Upon my word!" for permission to walk up stairs. cried Mrs. Nicholas Nickleby, "it sounds "Bless my heart!" cried Mrs. Nickleby,. very well." hastily arranging her cap and front, i" if it Having despatched the ceremony, with should be-dear me, standing in the pas.'ts attendant festivities, to the perfect sa- sage all this time-why don't you go and isfaction of her own mind, the sanguine ask them to walk up, you stupid thing " mother pictured to her imagination a long While the girl was gone on this errand. train of honours and distinctions which Mrs. Nickieoy nastily swept into a cupboard could not fail to accompany Kate in her new all vestiges of eating and drinking; which and brilliant sphere. She would be pre- she had scarcely done, and seated herself sented at court, of course. On the anni- with looks as collected as she could assume, versary of her birth-day, which was upon when two gentlemen, both perfect strain the nineteenth of July (" at ten minutes gers, presented themselves. past three o'clock in the morning," thought "How do you do?" said one gentleman, bMrs. Nickleby in a parenthesis, " for I re- laying great stress on the last word of the eilect asking what o'clock it was ") Sir inquiry Mulberry would give a great feast to all " How do you do 1" said the other genr his tenants, and would return them. three tleman, altering the emphasis, as if to give and a half per cent. on the amount of their variety to the salutation. last half-year's rent, as would be fully de- Mrs. Nickleby curtseyed and smiled, and scribed and recorded in the fashionable in- curtseyed again, and remarked, rubbing telligence, to the immeasurable delight and her hands as she did. so, that she hadn't admiration of aL tne readers thereof. the —really-the honour toKate's picture, too, would be in at least "To know us," said the first gentleman, halta-dozen of the annuals, and on the op- ",The loss has been ours, Mrs. Nickleby. posite page would appear, in delicate type, Has the loss been our:, Pyke 1" "Lines on contemplating the Portrait of "It has, Pluck,"'nswered the other Lady Mulberry Hawk. By Sir Dingleby gentleman. Dabber." Perhaps some one annual, of "We have regretted it very oftern I be more comprehensive design than its fel- lieve, Pyke?" said the first gentleman. lows, might even contain a portrait of the "Very often, Pluck," answered the s. mother of the Lady Mulberry Hawk, with cond. lines by t'ne father of Sir Dingleby Dabber. "But now," said the first geiltleman, More unlikely things had come to pass. "now we have the happiness we have pined Less interesting portraits had appeared. and languished for. Have we pined and As this thought occurred to the good lady, languished fbr this happiness, Pyke, 3r her countenance unconsciously assumed have we not " that compound expression of simpering and "You know we have Pluck,'" said Pyke sleepiness which, being common to all such reproachfully. portraits, is perhaps one reason why they "You hear him, ma'am I" said Mr, are always so charming and agreeable. Pluck,. looking round; "you hear the un With such triumphs of aerial architec- impeachable testimony of my friend Pyketure did Mrs. Nickleby occupy the whole t'hat reminds me, —formalities, formalities, 174 NI'CHOLAS N CKLEBY. must nut, neglected in civilized society. "But when," said Mr. Pluck, " when 1 Pyke-U-rs. Nickleby." see so much sweetness and beauty on the Mr. Pyke laid his hand upon his heart, one hand, and so much ardour and devotion and bowed low. on the other, I-pardon me, Pyke, I didn't "' Whether I shall introduce myself with intend to resume that theme. Change the the same formality," said Mr. Pluck, — subject, Pyke." "whether I shall say myself that my name "We promised Sir Mulberry and Lor is Pluck, or whether I shall ask my friend Frederick," said Pyke, " that we'd call this Pyke (who being now regularly introduced, morning and inquire whether you took any is competent to the office) to state for me, cold last night." ~Mrs. Nickleby, that my name is Pluck; "Not the least in the world last night, whether I shall claim your acquaintance Sir;" replied Mrs. Nickleby, "with many on the plain ground of the strong interest thanks to his Lordship and Sir Mulberry I take in your welfare, or whether I shall for doing me the honour to inquire; not the mnake myself known to yot as the friend least-which is the more singular, as I redf Sir Mulberry Hawk -these, Mrs. Nic- ally am very subject to colds, indeed-very klcby, are considerations which I leave to subject. I had a cold once," said Mrs. Nicyou to determine." kleby, " I think it was in the year eighteen " Any friend of Sir Mulberry Hawk's hundred and seventeen; let me see, four requires no better introduction to me," ob- and five are nine, and-yes, eighteen hun. served Mrs. Nickleby, graciously. dred and seventeen, that I thought I never "It is delightful to hear you say so," should get rid of; actually and seriously, said Mr. Pluck, drawing a chair close to that I thought I never should get rid of. I was Mrs. Nickleby, and sitting himself-down. only cured at last by a remedy that I don't " It is refreshing to know that you hold my know whether you ever happened to hear excellent friend, Sir Mulberry, in such high of, Mr. Pluck. You have a gallon of water esteem. A word in your ear, Mrs. Nic- as hot as you can possibly bear it, with a kleby. When Sir Mulberry knows it, he pound of salt and sixpen'orth of the finest will be a happy man-I say, Mrs. Nickleby, bran, and sit with your head in it for twenty a happy man.. Pyke, be seated." minutes every night just before going to " -My good opinion," said Mrs. Nickleby, bed; at least, I don't mean your headand -the poor lady exulted in the idea that your feet. It's a most extraordinary cure 9he was marvellously sly,-" my good opi- — a most extraordinary cure. I used it for sion can be of very little consequence to a the first time, I recollect, the day after gentleman like Sir Mulberry." Christmas Day, and by the middle of April "' Of little consequence!" exclaimed Mr. following the cold was gone. It seems Pluck. "'Pyke, of what consequence to quite a miracle when you come to think of our friend, Sir Mulberry, is the good opin- it, for I had it ever since the beginning of ion of Mrs. Nickleby'" September." " Of what consequence 3" echoed Pyke. " What an afflicting calamity i" said Mr. "Ay," repeated Pluck; "is it of the Pyke. greatest consequence 3" "Perfectly horrid!" exclaimed Mr. "Of the very greatest consequence," re- Pluck. plied Pyke. " But: it's worth the pain of hearing, only "Mrs. Nickleby cannot be ignorant," to know that Mrs. Nickleby recovered it, sid Mr. Pluck, "of the immense impres- isn't it, Pluck?" cried Mr. Pvke. sion which that sweet girl has —' "That is the circumstance which gives "Pluck!" said his friend, "beware!" it such a thrilling interest," replied Mr. "lpke is right," muttered Mr. Pluck, Pluck. after a short pause; " I was not to mention "But come," said Pyke, as if suddenly it. Pyke is very right. Thank you, Pyke." recollecting himself; "we must not forget "Well now, really," thought Mrs. Nic- our mission in the pleasure of this interkleby within herself.'Such delicacy as view.- We come on a mission, Mrs. Nio that, I never saw!" kleby." Mr. Pluck, after feigning to be in a con- "On a mission," exclaimed this good dition of great embarrassment for some lady, to whose mind a definitive proposal of /Minutes, resumed the conversation by en- marriage for Kate at once presented itself treating Mrs. Nickleby to take no heed of in lively colours. what he had inadvertently said-to consi- "From Sir Mulberry," replied Pyke. der him imprudent, rash, injudicious. The " You must be very dull here." mll' stipulation he would make in his own "Rather dull, I confess," said Mrs. Nio fiavour was, that she sho ld give him credit kleby. Xf tiln oes' intentioni. - "We bring the compliments of Sir M ul NICHOLAS NICKLEB Y. A75 etry Hawk, and a thousand entreaties that Mr. Pyke no sooner ascertained that he you'11 take a seat in a private box at the was quite right in his conjecture, than he play to-nigght,' said Mr. Piuck. launched into the most extravagant enco. "Oh dear'" said Mrs. Nickleby, "I never miums of the divine original; and in the go out at all, never." warmth of his enthusiasm kissed the pic"A(d that is the very reason, my dear ture a thousand times, while Mr. Pluck Mrs. Nickleby, why you should go out to- pressed Mrs. Nickleby's hand to his heart, night," retorted Mr. Pluck. "Pyke, en- and congratulated her on the possession of treat Mrs. Nickleby." such a daughter, with so much earnestness "Oh, pray do," said Pyke. and affiection, that the tears stood, or seemed "You positively must," urged Pluck. to stand, in his eyes. Poor Mrs. Nickleby,' are verv kind," said Mrs. Nickle- who hadlistened in a state of enviable corm b, hesitating; "but- " placency at first, became at length quite "There's not a but in the case, my dear overpowered by these tokens of regard for, Mrs. Nickleby," remonstrated Mr. Pluck; and attachment to, the faiuily; and even "' not such a word in the vocabulary. Your the servant girl, who had peeped in at the brother-in-law joins us, Lord Frederick joins door, remained rooted to the spot in astonus, Sir Mulberry joins us, Pyke joins us- ishment at the ecstasies of the two friendly a refusal is out of the question. Sir Mul- visiters. berry sends a carriage for you-twenty By degrees these raptures subsided, and minutes before seven to the moment- Mrs. Nickleby went on to entertain her you'll not be so cruel as to disappoint the guests with a lament over her fallen forwhole party, Mrs. Nickleby?" tunes, and a picturesque account of her old " You are so very pressing, that I scarce- house in the country: comprising a full dely know what to say," replied the worthy scription of the different apartments, not lady. forgetting the little store-room, and a lively "Say nothing; not a word, not a word, recollection of how many steps you went my dearest madam," urged Mr. Pluck. down to get into the garden, and which " Mrs. Nickleby," said that excellent gen- way you turned when you came out at the tleman, lowering his voice, " there is the parlour-door, and what capital fixtures there most trifling, the most excusable breach of were in the kitchen. This last reflectior confidence in what I am about to say; and naturally conducted her into the wash-house yet if my friend Pyke there overheard it- where she stumbled upon the brewing uten such is that man's delicate sense of honour, sils, among which she might have wandered Mrs. Nickleby-he'd have me out before for an hour, if the mere mention of those dinner-time." implements had not, by an association of Mrs. Nickleby cast an apprehensive ideas, instantly reminded Mr. Pyke that ha glance at the warlike Pyke, who had walk- was " amazing thirsty." ed to the window; and Mr. Pluck, squeez- "And I'11 tell you what," said Mr. Pyke; ing her hand, went on- "if you'11 send round to the public-house " Your daughter has made a conquest- for a pot of mild half-and-half, positively a conquest on which I may congratulate and actually I'11 drink it." ou. Sir Mulberry, my dear ma'am, Sir And positively and actually Mr. Pyke Mulberry is her devoted slave. Hem!" did drink it, and Mr. Pluck helped him, "Hah!" cried Mr. Pyke at this juncture, while Mrs. Nickleby looked on in divided snatching something from the chimney. admiration of the condescension of the two, piece with a theatrical air. "What is and the aptitude with which they accomrn this! what do I behold!" modated themselves to the pewter-pot; in " What do you behold, my dear fellow " explanation of which seeming marvel it asked Mr. Pluck. may be here observed, that gentlemen who, " It is the face, the countenance, the ex- like Messrs. Pyke and Pluck, live upon piression," cried Mr. Pyke, falling into his their wits (or not so much, perhaps, upon chair, with a miniature in his hand; " fee- the presence of their own wits as upon tlh bly portrayed, imperfectly caught, but still absence of wits in other people) are'mcathe face, the countenance, the expression." sionally reduced to very narrow shifts and "I recognise it at this distance!" ex- I straits, and are at such periods accustomed claimed Mr. Pluck in a fit of enthusiasm. to regale themselves in a very simple a'nd "Is it not, my dear madam, the faint simili- primitive manner..ide of —— " "At twenty minutes before seven, then," 4 It is my daughter's portrait," said Mrs. said Mr. Pyke, rising, "the coach will be Nickleby, with great pride. And so it was. here. One more look-one little look-at And little Miss La Creevy had brought it that sweet face. Ah! here it is. Unmoved, homw for inspection only two night before | unchanged!" This by the way was a very 176 ~NI:CHOLAS NIL KLEBY. remarkable circumslance, miniatures being also Messrs. Pyke and, ck,,iting to liable to so many charges of expression- escort her to her box; and so polite were 6" Oh, Piuck! Fiuck!" they, that Air. Pyke threatened with many Mr. Pluck made no other reply than kiss- oaths to " smifligate" a very olk man with Ing, Mrs. Nickleby's hand with a great a lantern who accidentally stumbled in ner show of feeling and attachment; Mr. Pyke way-to the great terror of Mrs. Nickleby, having done the same, both gentlemen has- who, conjecturing more from Mr. Pyke's tily wi;:hdrew. excitement than any previous acquaintance Mrs. Nickleby was commonly in the ha- with the etymology of the word, that smiflfi bit of giving herself credit fobr a pretty gation and bloodshed must be in the main tolerable share of penetration and acute- one and the same thing, was alarmed be ness, but she had never felt so satisfied with yond expression, lest something should ocher own sharp-sightedness as she did that cur. Fortunately, however, Mr. Pyke con day. She had found it all out the night be- fined himself to mere verbal smifligation, fore. She had never seen Sir Mulberry and they reached their box with no more and Kate together-never even heard Sir serious interruption by the way, than a deMulberry's name-and yet hadn't she said sire on the part of the same pugnacious to herself from the very first, that she saw gentleman to "smash" the assistant boxhow the case stood 3 and what a triumph it keeper for happening to mistake the numr was, for there was now no doubt about it. ber. If these flattering attentions to herself were Mrs. Nickleby had scarcely been put not sufficient proof, Sir Mulberry's confi- away behind the curtain of the box in an dential friend had suffered the secret to arm chair, when Sir Mulbierry and Lord escape him in so many words. " I am quite Verisopht arrived, arrayed from the crowns in love with that dear Mr. Pluck, I declare of their heads to the tips of their gloves, I am," said Mrs. Nickleby. and from the tips of their gloves to the toes There was one great source of uneasi- of their. boots, in the most elegant and costly ness in the midst -of this good'fortune, and manner.. Sir Mulberry was a little hoarser that was the having nobody by, to whom than on:the previous day, and Lord Veri she could confide it. Once or twice she sopht looked rather sleepy and queer; from almost resolved to walk straight to Miss La which tokens, as well as from the circumCreevy's and tell it all to her. "But I stance of their both being to a trifling exdon't know," thought Mrs. Nickleby; "she tent unsteady upon:their legs, Mrs. Nickleis a very worthy person, but I am afraid by justly concluded that they had taken too muchi beneath Sir Mulberry's station dinner. for us to make a companion of. Poor thing!" "We have been-we have been-toast. Acting upon this grave consideration she ing your lovely daughter, Mrs. Nickleby," rejected the idea of taking the little por- whispered Sir Mulberry, sitting down be. trait-painter into her confidence, and con- hind her. tented herself with holding out sundry " Oh, ho!" thought that knowing lady; vague and mysterious hopes of preferment wine in; truth out. You are very kind, to the servan' girl, who received these oh- Sir Mulberry." scure hints of dawning greatness with,No, no upon my soul!" replied Sir much veneration and respect. Mulberry Hawk. "It's you that's kind, Punctual to its time came the promised upon my soul it is. It was so kind of you vehicle, which was no hackney-coach, but to me to-night." a private chariot, having behind it a fbotman, whose legs, although somewhat large " So very kind of you to invite me, yob for his body, might, as mere abstract legs, mean, Sir Mulberry," replied Mrs. Nick have set themselves up for models at the leby, tossing her ead, and looking prodi Royal Academy. It was quite exhilarating giously sly. to hear the clash and bustle with which he, "I am so anxious to know you, so ants banged the door and jumped up behind after ious to cultivate your good opinion, so desl Mrs. Nickleby was in; and as that good rous that there should be a delicious kina rad; was perfectly unconscious that he ap- of harmonious family understanding bplied the gold-headed end of' his long stick tween us," said Sir Mulberry, "' that you to his nose, and so telegraphed most disre- mustn't think I'm disinterested in what I specttully to the coachman over ner very do. I'm infernal selfish; I am-upon my.head, she sat in a state of much stiffness soul I am." and dignity, not a little proud of her posi- "I am sure you can't be selfish, Sir Multion.. berry!" replied Mrs. Nickleby.' You At the theatre entrance there was-more have much too open and generous a cour eanging and more bustle, and there were tenance for that" NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 171 "' What an extraordinary observer you Now, Kate thought thrs s:- t riedly, are!" said Sir Mulberry Hawk. and the surprise was so great, a t. moreover " 1Oh no, indeed, I don't see very far into brought back so forcibly the recollection o, things, Sir Mulberry," replied Mrs. Nick- what had passed at Ralph's delectable din-,eby, in a tone of voice which left the bar- ner, that she turned extr emely pale anJ onet to infer that she saw very far indeed. appeared greatly agitated, which symptoms "I am quite afraid of you," said the being observed by Mrs. Nickleby, were at baronet. "Upon my soul," repeated Sir once set down by that acute lady as being Mulberrv. looking round to his companions; caused and occasioned by vielent love. —'I am afraid of Mrs. Nickleby. She is so But, althouglh she was in no small degree rimensely sharp." delighted by this discovery which reflected Messrs. Pyke and Pluck shook their so much credit on her own qui kness of heads mysteriously, and observed together perception, it did not lessen her Tnmotherly that they had found that out long ago; anxiety in Kate's behalf; and accordingly, upon which Mrs. Nickleby tittered, and Sir with a vast quantity of trepidation, she Mulberry laughed, and Pyke and Pluck quitted her own box to hasten into thtt of roared. Mrs. Wititterly. Mrs. WXVtitterly, keenly "But where's my brother-in-law, Sir alive to the glory of having a lord and a Mulberry?" inquired Mrs. Nickleby. "I baronet among her vir!iting acquaintance, shouldn't be here without him. I hope he's lost no time in. signing to Mr. Wititterly to coniing." open the door, and thus it was that in less "Pyke," said Sir Mulberry, taking out than thirty seconds Mrs. Nickleby's party.os tooth-pick and lolling back in his chair, had made an irruption into Mrs. Wititterly's as if he were too lazy to invent a reply to box, which it filled to the very door, there this question. " Where's Ralph Nickleby." being in fact only room for Messrs. Pyke "Pluck," said Pyke, imitating the baro- and Pluck to get in their heads and waistnet's action, and turning the lie over to his coats. friend, " where's Ralph Nickleby." "My dear Kate," saii Mrs. Nickleby, Mr. Pluck was about to return some kissing her daughter affect'onately. "How evasive reply, when the bustle caused by a ill you looked a moment ago! You quite party entering the next box seemed to frightened me, I declare!" attract the attention of all four gentlemen, "It was mere fancy, marma,-the-the who exchanged glances of much meaning. -who exchanged glances of much mening. reflection of the lights perhaps," replied The new party beginning to converse to- Kate, glccinr fnervously roundand finding gether, Sir Mulberry suddenly assumed the it po esirleto whiper anyaution or character of a most attentive listener, and mpossle to whpe any caution o imp ared his friends not to breathe-not to e n o tbreathe. "L Don't you see Sir Mulberry Hawk, my " Why not " said Mrs. Nickleby.- dear- " " What is the matter 2" Kate bowed slightly, and biting her lip "Hush!" replied Sir Mulberry, laying turned her head towards the stage. his hand on her arm. "Lord Frederick, But Sir Mulberry Hawk was not to be s do you recognize the tones of that voice'" easily repulsed, for he advanced with ex. "Deyvle take me if I didn't thtnk it was tended hand; and Mrs. Nickleby officiously the voice of Miss Nickleby." informing Kate of this circumstance, she "Lor, my Lord!" cried Miss Nickleby's was obliged to' extend her own. Sir Mulmamma, thrusting her head round the cur- berry detained it while lie murmured a tain. "Why, actually-Kate, my dear, profusion of comnpliments, which Kate, re. Kate." membering what had passed between thenm "You here, mamma! Is it possible!" rightly considered as so many aggravations "Possible, ray dear? Yes." of the insult he had already put upon her. "VWhy who-who on earth is that you Then followed the recognition of Lord have Nith you, mamma?" said Kate, shrink- Verisopht, and then the greeting of Mr. ing back as she caught sight of a man smi- Pyke, and then that of Mr. Pluck, andl ling and kissing his hand. finally, to complete the young lazdys mor-. "Who do you suppose, my dear?" re- tification, she was compelled at Mrs. Witplied Mrs. Nickleby, bending towards Mrs. itterly's request to perform the ceremony Wititterly, and speaking a little louder for of introducing the odious persons, whom that lady's edification. "There's Mr. she regarded with the utmost indignation Pyke, Mr. Pluck, Sir Mulberry Hawk, and and abhorrence. Lord Frederick Verisopht." "Mrs. Wititterly is delighted," said AMr, "Gracious Heaven!" thought Kate hur- Wititterly, rubbing his hands; " deiigh'ed, nedly "How comes she in such society!" my Lord, I am sure. with this ODpo: tumnit t.7 8 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. of contracting an acquaintance which, I driver had a green shade overnis eft ey>. trust, my Lord, we shall improve. Julia, -in a post-chaise from Birmingham, and Ir ydear, you must not allow yourself to be after we had seen Shakqseare's tomb and too much excited, you must not. Indeed birth place, we went back to the inn there,?you must not. Mrs. Wititterly is of a where we slept that night, and I recollect most excitable nature, Sir Mulberry. The that all night long I dreamt of nothing but snuff of a candle, the wick of a lamp, the a black gentleman, at full length, in plasters bloom on a peach, the down on a butterfly. of-Paris, with a lay-down collar tied with Yiou might blow her away, my Lord; you two tassels, leaning against a post and light blow her away." thinking; and when I woke in the morn Sir Mulberry seemed to think that it ing and described him to Mr. Nickleby,'he would be a great convenience if the lady said it was Shakspeare just as he had been could be blown away. He said, however, when he was alive, which was very curious that the delight was mutual, and Lord Veri- indeed. Stratford - Stratford," continued sopat added that it was mutual, whereupon Mrs. Nickleby, considering. "Yes, I am Messrs. Pyke and Pluck were heard to positive about that, because I recollect I was murmur from the distance that it was very in the family way with my son Nicholas at mutual indeed. the time, and I had been very much fright. "I take an interest, my Lord," said Mrs. ened by an Italian image that very mornWititterly, with a faint smile, "'such an in- ing. In fact it was quite a mercy, ma'am," terest in the drama." added Mrs. Nickleby, in a whisper to Mrs. " Ye-es. It's very interasting," replied Wititterly, "that my son didn't turn out to Lord Verisopht. be a Shakspeare, and what a dreadful thing "I'm always ill after Shakspeare," said that would have been!" Mrs. Wititterly. "I scarcely exist the When Mrs. Nickleby had brought this next day; I find the reaction so very great interesting anecdote to a close, Pyke and after a tragedy, my Lord, and Shakspeare Pluck, ever zealous in their patron's cause, Is such a delicious creature." proposed the adjournment of a detachment "Ye-es!" replied Lord Verisopht. of the party into the next box; and with "He was a clayver man." so much skill were the preliminaries ad "Do you know, my Lord," said Mrs. justed, that Kate, despite all she could say Wititterly, after a long silence, "I find I or do to the contrary, had no alternative take so much more interest in' his plays, but to suffer herself to be led away by Sir after having been to that dear little, dull Mulberry Hawk. Her mother and Mr. house he was born in! Were you ever Pluck accompanied them, but the worthy there, my Lord?" lady, pluming herself upon her discretion, "No, nayver," replied Verisopht. took particular care not so much as to-look "' Then really you ought to go, my Lord," at her daughter during the whole evening returned Mrs. Wititterlv, in very languid and to seem wholly absorbed in the jokes and drawling accents. " I don't know how and conversation of Mr. Pluck, who, having it is, but after you've seen the place and been appointed sentry over Mrs. Nickleby written your name in the little book, some- for that especial purpose, neglected, on his now or other you seem to be inspired; it side, no possible opportunity of engrossing aindles up quite a fire within one." her attention. "Ye-es!" replied Lord Verisopht. "I Lord Frederick Verisopht remained in shall certainly go there.", the next box to be talked to by Mrs. Wit"Julia, my life," interposed Mr. Witit-"' itterly, and Mr. Pyke was in attendance terly, "you are deceiving his lordship- to throw in a word or two when necessary. unintentionally, my Lord, she is deceiving As to Mr. Wititterly, he was sufficiently you. It is your poetical temperament, my busy in the body of the house, informing Jear —your ethereal soul-your fervid ima- such of his friends and acquaintance as gination, which throws you into a glow of happened to be there, that those two gengenius and excitement. There is nothing tlemen up stairs, whom they had seen in.ia the place, my dear-nothing, nothing." conversation with Mrs. W., were the dig "'I think there must be something in the tinguished Lord Frederick Verisopht and lace," said Mrs. Nickleby, who had been his most intimate friend, the gay Sir Mul-.istening in silence; "for, soon after I was berry Hawk-a communication which inharried, I went to Stratford with poor dear flamed several respectable housekeepers Mr Nickleby, in a post-chaise from Bir- with the utmost jealousy and rage, and rningham-was it a post-chaise though!" reduced sixteen unmarried dau'ghters to the L:id Mrs. Nickleby, considering; "yes, it very brink of despair. must have been a post-chaise because I The evening came to an end at last, but Da'lect remarking at the ti::-.e that the Kate had yet to be handed dowrin stairs by NICOi O LAS NICKLBY. 179 the detested Sir Mulberry; and so skilfully Nickleby in ner chariot, and having got were the manceuvles of Messrs. Pyke and her safely off, turned their thoughts to Pluck conducted, that she and the baronet Mrs. Wititterly, whose attention also they were the last of the party, and were even had now effectually distracted from the — without an appearance of effort or design young lady, by throwing her into a state of — left at some little distance behind. the utmost bewilderment and consternation. "Don't hurry, don't hurry," said Sir At length, the conveyance in which she Mulberry, as Kate hastened on, and at- had come rolled off too with its load, and tempted to release her arm. the four worthies, being left aloi e under She made no reply, but still pressed the portico, enjoyed a hearty laugh to. forward. gether. "Nay, then —" coolly observed Sir Mul. "There," said Sir Mulberry, turning to berry, stopping her outright. his noble friend. "Didn't I tell you last "You had best not seek to detain me, night that if we could find where they were sir!" said Kate, ar arily. going by bribing a servant through my:" And why not i retorted Sir Mulberry. fellow, and then established ourselves close "My dear creatures, now why do you keep by with the mother, these people's honour up this show of di&,pleasure?" would be our own 1 Why here it is, done " Show!" reus,.Lted Kate, indignantly. in fbur-and-twenty hours." "How dare you presume to speak to me, "Ye-es," replied the dupe. "But I have sir - to addrep me — to come into my been tied to the old woman all ni-night." xresence 3" " Hear him," said Sir Mulberry, turning "You ]ook,p ettier in a passion, Miss to his two friends.:' Hear this discontent. Nickleby," satid Sir Mulberry Hawk, stoop- ed grumbler. Isn't it enough to make a ing down, the better to see her face. man swear never'o help him in his plots " I hold you in the bitterest detestation and cheines again. Isn't it an infernal and contempt, sir," said Kate. "If you shame?" find any attraction in looks of disgust and Pyke asked Pluck whether it was not an aversion, you-let me rejoin my friends, infernal shame, and Pluck asked Pyke; sir, instantly. Whatever considerations but neither answered. m;ay have withheld me thus far, I will dis- "Isn't it the truth 3" demanded Veriregard them all, and take a course that even sopht. 1" Wasn't it so?" you might feel, if you do not immediately "Wasn't it so!" repeated Sir Mulberry suffer nme to proceed." "How would you have had it 3 How could Sir Mulberry smiled, and still looking in we have got a general invitation at first her face and retaining her ar., walked sight-come when you like, go when you towards the door. like, stop as long as you like, do what you "If no regard for my sex or helpless like-if you, the lord, had not made yoursituation will induce you to desist from this self agreeable to the'foolish mistress of the coarse and unmanly persecution," said Kate, house? Do I care for this girl, except as scarcely knowing, in the tumult of her your friend 3 Haven't I been sounding passions, what she said,-" I have a brother your praises in her ears, and bearing hewho will resent it dearly, one day." pretty sulks and peevishness all night for "Upon my soul!" exclaimed Sir Mul- you 1 What sort of stuff do you think I'm berry, as though quietly communing with made of? Would I do this for every man himself; passing his arm round her waist -Don't I deserve even gratitude in re as he spoke, "she looks more beautiful, turn l" and I like her better in this mood, than "You're a deyvlish good fellow," said when her eyes are cast down, and she is in the poor young lord, taking his friend's perfect repose!" arm. " Upon my life, you're a deyvlish How Kate reached the lobby where her good fellow, Hawk." friends were waiting she never knew, but " And I have done right, have I?" de she hurried across it without at all regard- manded Sir Mulberry. ing them, and disengaged herself suddenly "Quite ri-ght." from her companion, sprang into the coach, "And like a poor, silly, good-natured and throwing herself into its darkest cor- friendly dog as I am, eh?" rer, burst into tears. "Ye-es, ve-E F-like a friend," repliec Messrs. Pyke and Pluck, knowing their the other cue, at. once threw the party into great "Well then, replied Sir Mulberry," I'rn commotion by shouting for the carriages, satisfied. And now let's go and have oilu Ad getting up a violent quarrel with sun- revenge on the German baron and ti.j dry inoffensive bystanders; in the midst of Frenchman, who cleaned you out so hang which tamult they put the affrighted Mrs. somely last night." PMP%0 ~NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. With these wolds the friendly creature ming their handkerchiefs into their nlouthd look his companion's arm and led him to denote their silent enjoyment of the tway, turning half round as he did so, and whole proceedings, followed their patron bestowing a wink and a contemptuous smile -and his victim at a little distance. oi; Messrs. Pyke and Pluck, who, cramCHAPTER XXVIII. MISS NICKLEBY, RENDERED DESPERATE BY THE PERSECUTION OF SIR MIU1 BERRY HAWK, AND THE COMPLICATED DIFFICULTIES AND DISTRESSES WHICH SURROUND HER, APPEALS, AS A LAST RESOURCE, TO HER UNCLE FOR PRO. TECTION. THE ensuing morning brought reflection of the proudest and most complacent kind' with it, as morning usually does; but and under the influence of her very agreewidely different was the train of thought able delusion she straightway sat down and t awakened in the different persons who indited a long letter to Kate, in which she had been so unexpectedly brought together expressed her entire approval of the admicn the preceding evening, by the active rable choice she had made, and extolled Sir agency of Messrs. Pyke and Pluck. Mulberry to the skies; asserting, for the The reflections of Sir Mulberry Hawk more complete satisfaction of her daughter's -if such a term can be applied to. the feelings, that he was precisely the indivi. thoughts of the systematic and calculating dual whom she (Mrs. Nickleby) would have man of dissipation, whose joys, regrets, chosen for her son-in-law, if she had had pains, and pleasures, are all of self, and the picking and choosing from all mankind. who would seem to retain nothing of the The good lady then, with the preliminary intellectual faculty but the power to debase observation that she might be fairly suphimself, and to degrade the very nature posed not to have lived in the world solong whose outward semblance he wears-the without knowing its ways, communicated a reflections of Sir Mulberry Hawk turned great many subtle precepts applicable to upon Kate Nickleby, and were, in brief, the state of courtship, and confirmed in their that she was undoubtedly handsome; that wisdom by her own personal experience. her coyness must be easily conquerable by Above all things she commended a strict a man of his address and experience, and maidenly reserve, as being not only a very that the pursuit was one which could not laudable thing in itself, but as tending mafail to redound to his credit, and greatly to terially to strengthen and increase a lover's enhance his reputation with the world.- ardour. "And I never," added Mrs. NicAnd lest this last consideration-no mean kleby, " was more delighted in my life than or secondary one with Sir Mulberry- to observe last night, my dear, that your should sound strangely in the ears of some, good sense had already told you this." With let it be remembered that most men live in which sentiment, and various hints of the a world of their own, and in that limited pleasure she derived from the kne~wledge circle alone are they ambitious for distinc- that her daughter inherited so large an intion and applause. Sir Mulberry's world stalment of her own excellent sense ana was peopled with profligates, and he acted discretion (to nearly the full measure cd I cordingly. which she might hope, with care, to suec Thus, cases of injustice, and oppression, ceed in time,) Mrs. Nickleby conc uded a xnd tyranny, and the most extravagant very long and rather illegible letter. aigotry, are in constant occurrence among Poor Kate was well niflgh distracted om as every day. It is the custom to trumpet the receipt of four closely-written and forth much wonder and astonishment at the qlosely-crossed sides of congratulation on -chief actors therein setting at defiance so the very subject which had prevented her completely the opinion of the world; but closing her eyes all night, and kept her there is no greater fallacy; it is precisely weeping and watching in her chamber; uecause &,iey do consult the opinion of their still worse and more trying was the necesown little world that such things take place sity of rendering herself agreeable to Mrs. at all, and strike the great world dumb with Wititterly, who, being in low spirits after amazement. the fatigue of the preceding night, of course The reflections of Mrs. Nickleby were expected her companion (else wherefore N1CHOIAS NICKLEBY. 181 had she board and salary?) to lP in the best envelope and broke the scented seal. It spirits possible. As to Mr. Wititterly, he was from Befillaire-the young, the slim, went about all day in a tremor of delight the low-voiced-her own Befillaire.'" at having shaken hands with a lord, and "Oh, charming!" interrupted Kate's having actualiy asked him to come and see patroness, who was sometimes taken literhim in his own house. The lord himself, ary; "Poetic, really. Read thatldescrip. not being troubled to any inconvenient ex- tion again, Miss Nickleby." tent with the power of thinking, regaled Kate complied. himself with the conversation of Messrs. " Sweet, indeed!" said Mrs. Wititterly, Pyke and Pluck, who sharpened their wit with a sigh. "So voluptuous, is it not- -so by a plentiful indulgence in various costly soft?" stimulants at his expense. "Yes, I think it is," replied Kate, genIt was four in the afternoon-that is, the tly; "very soft." vralgar afternoon of the sun and clock-and "Close the book, Miss Nickleby," said Mrs. Wititterly reclined, according to cus- Mrs. Wititterly. "I can hear nothing tom, on the drawing-room sofa, while Kate more to-day; I should be sorry to disturb read aloud a new novel in three volumes, the impression of that sweet description. entitled "The Lady Flabella," which Al- Close the book." phonse the doubtful had procured from the Kate complied, not unwillingly; and, as library that very morning. And it was a she did so, Mrs. Wititterly raising her glass production admirably suited to a lady la- with a languid hand, remarked, that she bouring under Mrs. Wititterly's complaint, looked pale. seeing that there was not a line in it, from "It was the fright of that-that noise beginning to end, which could, by the most and confusion last night," said Kate. remote contingency, awaken the smallest "How very odd!" exclaimed Mrs. Witexcitement in any person breathing. itterly, with a look of surprise. And c( rKate read on. tainly, when one comes to think of it, it' Cherizette,' said the lady Flabella, in- was very odd that any thing should have serting her mouse-like feet in the blue satin disturbed a companion. A steam engine, slippers, which had unwittingly occasioned or other ingenious piece of mechanism out the half-playful half-angry altercation be- of order, would have been nothing to it. tween herself and the youthful Colonel Be- "How did you come to know Lord Frefillaire, i-a the Duke of Mincefenille's salon derick, and those other delightful creatures, de danse on the previous night.' Chiri- child?" asked Mrs. Wititterly, still eyeing zette, ma cheire, donnez-mci de l'eau.de-.Co. Kate through her glass. 1ogne, s'il vous plait, mon enfant. "I met them at my uncle's," said Kate, "' Mercie-thank you,' said the Lady vexed to feel that she was colouring deeply, Flabella, as the lively but devoted Cheri- but unable to keep down the blood which zette plentifully besprinkled with the fra- rushed to her face whenever she thot ght grant compound the Lady Flabella's mou- of that man. choiT of finest cambric, edged with richest " Have you known them long?" lace, and emblazoned at the four corners "No," rejoined Kate. " Not long.' with the Flabella crest, and gorgeous her- "I was very glad of the opportunity aldic bearings of that noble family;' Mer- which that respectable person, your mother, cte —that will do.' gave us of being known to them," said "' At this instant, while the Lady Fla- Mrs. Wititterly, in a lofty manner.' Some oelia yet inhaled that delicious fragrance friends of ours were on the very point ot -by holding the mouchoir to her exquisite, introducing us, which makes it quite rebut thoughtfully-chiselled nose, the door markable." of the boudoir (artfully concealed by rich This was said lest Miss Nickleby should hangings of silken damask, the hue of Ita- grow conceited on the honour and dignity ly's firmament) was thrown open, and with of having known fbur great people (for noiseless tread two valets-.de-chambre, clad Pyke and Pluck were included amonog the in sumptuous liveries of peach-blossom and delightful creatures), whom Mrs. Wititterly gold, advanced into the room followed by did not know. But as the circumstance a page in bas de soie-silk stockings-who, had made no impression one way or other while they remained at some distance mak- upon Kate's mind, the force of the observa. ing the most graceful obeisances, advanced tion was quite lost upon her. to the feet of his lovely mistress, and drop- "They asked permission to call," sari ping on one knee presented, on a golden Mrs. Wititterly. "I gave it them of savcer gorgeously chased, a scented billet. course." "'The Lady Flabella, with an agitation " Do y iU expect them to-day 1" Kate vee she could not repress, hastily'ore off the tured to inquire. 182 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. Mrs. Wititterly's answer was lost in the "Neither does Miss Nlckleby.&ik the noise of a tremendous rapping at the street- worse," said Sir Mulberry, bending nis bold door, and, before it had ceased to vibrate, gaze upon her. "She was always hand there drove up a handsome cabriolet, out some, but, upon my soul, ma'am, you seem of which leaped Sir Mulberry Hawk and to have imparted sonme of your own good his friend Lord Verisopht. looks to her besides." "They are here now," said Kate, rising To judge from the glow which suffused and hurrying away. the poor girl's countenance after this speech,'Miss Nickleby!" cried Mrs. Wititterly, Mrs. Wititterly might, with some show of perfectly aghast at a companion's attempt- reason, have been supposed to have iming to quit the room, without her permis- parted to it some of that artificial bloom soon first had and obtained. " Pray don't which decorated her own.. Mrs. Wititterly tnink of going." admitted, though not with the best grace in "' You are very good!" replied Kate. the world, that Kate did look pretty. She But —— " began to think too, that Sir Mulberry was "For goodness' sake, don't agitate me not quite so agreeable a creature as she had by making me speak so much," said Mrs. at first supposed him; for, although a skil. Wititterly, with great sharpness. " Dear ful flatterer is a most delightful companion me, Miss Nickleby, I beg- " if you can keep him all to yourself, his taste It was in vain for Kate to protest that becomes very doubtful when he takes to she was unwell, for the footsteps of the complimenting other people. knockers, whoever they were, were already "Pyke," said the watchful Mr. Pluck, on the stairs. She resumed her seat, and observing the effect which the praise of had scarcely done so, when the doubtful Miss Nickleby had produced. page darted into the room and announced, " Well, Pluck," said Pyke. Mr. Pyke, and Mr. l'luck, and Lord Veri- "Is there anybody," demanded Mr. Pluck, sopht, and Sir Mullerry HIawk, all at one mysteriously, "anybody you know, that burst. Mrs. Wititterly's profile reminds you of?" "The most extraordinary thing in the "Reminds me of!" answered Pyke. " Or world," said Mr. P!uck saluting both ladies course there is."' with the utmost cordiality; "the most ex- "Who do you mean?" said Pluck, in the traordinary thing. As Lord Frederick and same mysterious manner. " The D. of B.'T2 Sir Mulberry drove up to the door, Pyke " The C. of B.," replied Pyke, with the and I had that instant knocked." faintest trace of a grin lingering in his i" That instant knocked," said Pyke. countenance. "The beautiful sister is the " No matter how you came, so that you countess; not the duchess." are here," said Mrs. Wititterly, who, by'"True," said Pluck, "the C. of B. The dint of lying on the same sofa for three resemblance is wonderful!" years and a hall, had got up quite a little "Perfectly startling," said Mr. Pyke. pantomime of graceful attitudes, and now Here was a state of things! Mrs. Wit. threw herself into the most striking of the itterly was declared, upon the testimony whole series, to astonish the visiters. "I of two veracious and competent witnesses, am delighted, I am sure." to be the very picture of a countess! This "And how is Miss Nickleby." said Sir was one of the consequences of getting into Mulberry Hawk, accosting Kate, in a low good society. Why, she might have moved voice-not so low, however, out that it among grovelling people for twenty-years reached the ears of Mrs. Wititterly. and never heard of it. How could she, in "Why, she complains of suffering from deed? what did they know about countthe fright of last night," said the lady. "I esses! am sure 1 aon't wonder at it, for my nerves The two gentlemen having by the greeare quite torn to pieces." diness with which this little bait was swal " And yet you look," observed Sir Mul- lowed, tested the extent of Mrs. Wititterly' berry, turning round; "and yet you look-" appetite for adulation, proceeded to admi "Beyond everything," said Mr. Pyke, nister that commodity in very large doses, coming to his patron's assistance. Of course thus affording to Sir Mulberry Hawk an Mr. Pluck said the same. opportunity of pestering Miss Nickleby "I am afraid Sir Mulberry is a flatterer, with questions and remarks to which she my Lord," said Mrs. Wititterly, turning to was absolutely obliged to make some reply. *lJat young gentleman, who had been suck- Meanwhile, Lord Verisopht enjoyed un. mng the head of his cane in silence, and molested the full flavour of the gold knob Rtaring at Kate. at the top of his cane, as he would have "Oh, deyvlish!" replied Verisopht. HaY done to the end of the interview if Mr. Witmag given utterance to which remarkable itterly had not come home, and caused tnrs sentiment, ho occupied himself as before I conversation to turn to his favourite topiat NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. l83 "My Lord," said Mr. Wititterly, " I am " I think you are, my dear 3 tria," repliei delighted —honoured - proud. Be seated her husband, in a tone which seemed to say again, my Lord, I pray. I am proud, in- that he was not vain, but still must insist deed —most proud." upon their privileges. "If anybody, my It was to the secret annoyance of his Lord," added Mr. Wititterly, wheeling wife that Mr. Wititterly said all this, for, round to the nobleman, " will produce to although she was bursting with pride and me a greater martyr than Mrs. Wititterly* Lrrogance, she would have had the illus- all I can say is, that I shall be glad to see trious guests believe that their visit was that martyr, whether male or female-that'. quite a common occurrence, and that they all, my lord." had lords and baronets to see them every Pyke and Pluck promptly remarked that day in the week. But Mr. Wititterly's certainly nothing could be fairer than that; feelings were beyond the power of suppres- and the call having been by this time pro. sion. tracted to a very great length, they obeyed " It is an honour, indeed!" said Mr. Sir Mulberry's look, and rose to go. This Wititterly. "Julia, my soul, you will suf- brought Sir Mulberry himself and Lord fer for this to-morrow." Verisopht on their legs also. Many pro " Suffer!" cried Lord Verisopht. testations of friendship and expressions an. "The reaction, my Lord, the reaction," ticipative of the pleasure which must inevi. said Mr. Wititterly. 1 "This violent strain tably flow from so happy an acquaintance, upon the nervous system over, my Lord, were exchanged, and the visiters departed, what ensues 3 A sinking, a depression, a with renewed assurances that at all times lowness, a lassitude, a debility. My Lord, if and seasons the mansion of the Wititterlys Sir Tumley Snuffim was to see that delicate would be honoured by receiving them be. creature at this moment, he would not give neath its roof. a-a-this for her life." In illustration of That they came at all times and seasons which remark, Mr. Wititterly took a pinch -that they dined there one day, supped~ of snuff from his box and jerked it lightly the next, dined again on the next, and were into the air as an emblem of instability. constantly to and fro on all-that they made " Not that," said Mr. Wititterly, looking parties to visit public places, and met by tout him with a serious countenance. accident at lounges-that upon all these " Sir Tumley Snuffim would not give that occasions Miss Nickleby was exposed to for Mirs. Wititterly's existence." the constant and unremitting persecut!r, Mr. Wititterly told this with a kind of of Sir Mulberry Hawk, who now began to k0ber exultation, as if it were no trifling feel his character, even in the estimation distinction for a man to have a wife in such of his two dependants, involved in the suc. a desperate state; and Mrs. Wititterly cessful reduction of her pride-that she had sighed and looked on, as if she felt the ho- no intervals of peace or rest, except at nour, but had determined to bear it as those hours when she could sit in her soli meekly ts might be. tary room and weep over the trials of the "Mrs. Wititterly," said her husband, day-all these were consequences naturally "is Sir Tumley Snuffim's favourite patient. flowing from the well-laid plans of Sis f believe I may venture to say, that Mrs. Mulberry, and their able execution by the Wititterly is the, first person who took the auxiliaries, Pyke and Pluck. new medicine which is supposed to have And thus for a fortnight matters went destroyed a family at Kensington Gravel on. That any but the weakest and silliest Pits. I believe she was. If I am wrong, of people could have seen in one interview Julia, my dear, you will correct me." that Lord trisopht, though he was a lord, " 1 believe I was," said Mrs. Wititterly, and Sir Mulberry Hawk, though he was a in a faint Voice. baronet, were not persons accustomed te As there appeared to be some doubt in be the best possible companions, and were, the mind of his patron how he could best certainly not calculated by habits, maillmon8 join in this conversation, the indefatigable tastes, or conversation, to shine with anr -r. Pyke threw himself into the breach, very great lustre in the society of ladies haid, by way of saying something to the need scarcely be remarked. But with Mrs point, inquired - with reference to the Wititterly the two titles were all-sufficient aforesaid medicine-whether it was nice. coarseness became hurnour, vulgarity soft"No, sir, it was not. It had not even ened itself down into the most charming that recommendation," said Mr. W. eccentricity; insolence took the guise of "Mrs. Wititterly is quite a martyr," ob- an easy absenee of reserve, attainable only srved Mr. Pyke with a complimentary bow. by those who had had the good fortunme t "I think I am" said Mrs. Wititterly,'mix with high folks. irialiIg if the mistress put such a constnlliren 12~~~~~~~~~~~~ 054 OIN CH.OLAS NICKLE BY.,tpon tue behaviour of her new friends, upon it, Miss Nickleby, you will not, if you what could the companion urge against go on as you do." them. If- they accustomed themselves to " Ma'am!" exclaimed Kate, proudly. very little restraint before the lady of the "Don't agitate me by speaking in thal house, with how much more freedom could way, Miss Nickleby, don't," said Mrs. they address her paid dependant! Nor Wititterly, with some violence, "or you'': was even this the-worst. As the odious Sir compel me to ring the bell." Mulberry Hawk attached himself to Kate Kate looked at her, but said nothing. with less and less of disguise, Mrs. Wit- "You needn't suppose," resumed AMr. itterly began to grow jealous of the superior Wititterly,,"that your looking at me it attractions of Miss Nickleby. If this feel- that way, Miss Nickleby, will prevent m) ing had led to her banishment from the saying what I am going to say, whichn 1 drawing-room when such company was feel to be a religious duty. You needn't there, Kate would have been only too happy direct your glances towards me," said Mrs. and willing that it should have existed, but Wititterly, with a sudden burst of spite; unfortunately for her she possessed that "I am not Sir Mulberry, no nor Lord native grace and true gentility of manner, Frederick Verisopht, Miss Nickleby; nor; and those thousand nameless accomplish- am I Mr. Pyke, nor Mr. Pluck either." ments which give to female society its Kate looked at her again, but less stea. greatest charm; if these be valuable any- dily than before; and resting her elbow on where, they were especially so where the the, table, covered her eyes with her hand. lady of the house was a mere animated "If such things had been done when 1 doll. The consequence was, that Kate had was a young. girl," said Mrs. Wititterly; the double mortification of being an indis- (this, by the way, must have been some pensable part of the circle when Sir Mul- little time before), "I don't suppose any. berry and his friends were there, and of body would have believed it." being exposed, on that very account, to all "I don't think they would," murmured Mrs. Wititterly's ill-humours and caprices Kate. " I do not think anybody would bewhen they were gone. She became ut- lieve, without actually knowing it, what I terly and completely miserable. seem doomed to undergo!" Mrs. Wititterly had never thrown off the " Don't talk to me of being doomed to mask with regard to Sir Mulberry, but undergo, Miss Nickleby,. if you please," when she was more than usually out of said Mrs. Wititterly, with a shrillness of temper, attributed the circumstances as la. tone quite- surprising: in so great- an invalid dies sometimes do, to nervous indisposition. " I will not be answered, Miss Nickleby However, as the dreadful idea that Lord I am not accustomed to, be. answered, noa Verisopht also' was somewhat taken with will I permit it for an instant. Do yo~u Kate, and that she, Mrs. Wititterly, was hear." she added, waiting with some appa quite a secondary person, dawned upon that rent inconsistency for an answer. lady's mind and gradually developed itself, "I do hear you, ma'am," replied Kate, she became possessed with a large quantity " with- surprise-with greater surprise than of highly proper and most virtuous indig- I can express." nation, and felt it her duty, as a married "I have always:considered you; a -patti lady and a moral member of society, to cularly well-behaved- young-personfor your,ention the circumstance to "the young station in life," said Mrs. Wititterly; "andperson" without delay. as you are a person of healthy appears nce,Accordingly, Mrs. Wititterly broke and neat in your dress and so forth, I have groundnext morning, during a pause in the taken an interest in you, as I do still,- con novel-reading. sidering that I owe a sort of duty to that "Miss Nickleby," said Mrs. Wititterly, respectable old female, your mother. For "I wish to speak to you very gravely. I these reasons, Miss Nickleby, I must tell am sorry to have to do it, upon my word I you once for all, and begging you to mind am very sorry, but you leave me no alter- what I say, that I must insist upon your native, Miss Nickleby." Here Mrs. Wit- immediately altering your very forward itterly tossed her head-not passionately, behaviour to the gentlemen who visit at this only virtuously-and remarked, with some house. It really is not becoming," said appearance of excitement, that she feared Mrs. Wititterly, closing her chaste eyes -a that palpitation of heart was coming on she spoke; "it is improper - quite(s isnagai,?roper.1" " Your behaviour, Miss Nickleby," re,] "Oh!" cried Kate, looking upwards and sumed the lady, " is very far from pleasing- clasping her hands, " is not this, is not this ue-very far. I am very anxious indeed too cruel, too hard: to bear! Is. it not that yo' srnuld dowel,4 but you may depend enough that 1 should have suffered -as' NICHOLAS NICKLEBKY. 185 ave, night ar.d day; that I should almost "Run for Sir Tumley,' cried Mr. Wit. have sunk in my own estimation from very itterly, menacing the page with both fists. shame of having been brought into contact "I knew it, Miss Nickleby," he said, look. with such people; but must I also be ex- ing round with an air of melancholy tli.,,sed to this unjust and most unfounded umph, " that society has been too much fbr charge "' her.'This is all soul, you know, every bit... " You will have the goodness to recollect, of it." With this assurance Mr. Wititterly Miss Nickleby,"9 said Mrs. Wititterly, took up the prostrate form of Mrs. Witit, "that when you use such terms as' unjust,' terly, and carried her bodily off to bed. aid' unfounded,' you charge me, in effect, Kate waited until Sir Tumley Snuffim with stating that which is untrue." had paid his visit and looked in with a re. i I do," said Kate, with honest indigna- port, that through the special interposition. tion. " Whether you make this accusation of a merciful Providence (thus spake' Sir of yourself, or at the prompting of others, Tumleyt) Mrs. Wititterly had gone to sleep is alike to me. I. say it is vilely, grossly, She then hastily attired herself for walk. wilfully untrue. Is it possible!" cried Kate, ing, and leavirg word that she should re. "'that any one of my own sex can have'sat turn within a couple of hours, hurried away. by, and not have seen the misery these towards her uncle's house. men have caused me! Is it possible that It had been a good day with Ralph Nit. you, ma'am, can have been present, and kleby,-quite a lucky day; and as he walk. failed to mark the insulting freedom that ed to and fro in his little back room with. their every look bespoke? Is it possible his hands clasped behind him, adding up in that you can have avoided seeing, that his own mind all the sums that htad been; these libertines, in their utter disrespect or would be, netted froln the business done for you, and utter disregard of all, gentle- since morning, his mouth was drawn into manly' behaviour, and almost of decency, a hard, stern smile; while the firmness of save had but one object in introducing the lines and curves that made it up, as themselves here, and that the furtherance well as the cunning glance of his cold, of their designs upon a friendless, helpless bright eye, seemed to tell, that if any reso. girl, who, without this humiliating confes- lution or cunning would increase the pro-. sion, might have hoped to receive from one fits, they would not fail to be exerted for so much her senior something like woman- the purpose. ly aid and sympathy? I do not —I cannot "Very good!" said Ralph, in allusion, believe it!" no doubt, to some proceeding of the day If poor Kate had possessed the slightest "' He defies the usurer, does -he? Wel, knowledge of tile world, she certainly we shall see.'Honesty is the best policy,' would not have ventuzed, even in the ex- is it? We'll try that, too." citement into which she had been lashed, He stopped, and then walked on again. upon such an injudicious speech as this. "He is content," said Ralph, relaxing Its effect was precisely what a more expe- into a smile,." to set his known character rienced observer would have foreseen. and conduct against the power of moneyMrs.- Wititterly received the attack upon, dross, as he calls it. Why, what a dull her veracity with exemplary calmness, and blockhead this fellow must be! Dross:too listened with the most heroic fortitude to -dross!-Who's that." Kate's' account of her own sufferings. But " Me," said Newman Noggs, looking in.' allusion being made to her being held in "Your niece." disregard by the gentlemen, she evinced "What of her?" asked Ralph sharply. violent emotion, and this blow was no "She's here." sooner followed up by the remark concern- "Here!" ing her seniority, than she fell back upon Newman jerked his head towards his the sofa, uttering dismal screams. little room, to signify that she was waiting "What is the matter!" cried Mr. Witit- there. teirly, bouncing into the room. "Heavens, "What does she want t' asked Ralph. what do I see! Julia! Julia! look up, my. "I don't know," rejoined Newman. life, look up!" "Shall I ask?" he added quickly. But Julia looked down most persevering- "No," replied Ralph. "d Show her inly, and screamed still louder! so Mr. Wit- stay." He hastily put away a padlocked, itterly rang the bell, and danced in a fren- cash-box that was on the table, and substi. zied manner round the sofa on which Mrs. tutl in its stead an empty purse. " There,' WVititterly lay; uttering perpetual cries for said Ralph. "Now she may come in." Sir Tumley Snuffim, and never once leav- Newman, with a grim smile' at this rna,ing off to ask for any explanation of the neuvre, beckoned the young iady to ad scene before him. vance, and having placed a chair for he IR6 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. retired; looking stealthily )ver his shoul- have been roused to-day beyond al endn. der at Ralph as he limped slowly out. rance, and, come what may, I will tot, as " "Well," said Ralph, roughly enough; I am your brother's child, bear these insults but still with something more of kindnes longer." in his mnanner than he would have exhibit- "What insults, girl?" demanded Ralph, ed towards any body else. " Well, my — sharply. dear. What now?" "RIemember what took place here, and Kate raised her eyes, which were filled ask yourself," replied Kate, colouring deep. with tears; and with an effort to matter ly. Uncle, you must-I am sure you will her emotion strove to speak, but in vain. -release me from such vile and degrading So drooping her head again, she remained companionship as I am exposed to now. I silent. Her face was hidden from his view, do not mean," said Kate, hurrying to the but Ralph could see that she-was weeping. old man, and laying her arm upon his shoul. " I can guess the cause of this!" thought der; " I do not mean to be angry and vioRalph, after looking at her for sonme time lent-I beg your pardon if I have seemed in silence. "I can-I can guess the cause. so, dear uncle,-but you do not know what Well! Well!"-thought Ralph-for the I have suffered, you do not indeed. You moment quite disconcerted, as he watched cannot tell what the heart of a young girl the anguish of his beautiful niece. " Where is-I have no right to expect you should; is the harm only a few tears; and it's an but when I tell you that I am wretched, excellent lesson for her-an excellent les- and that my heart is breaking, I am sure son." you will help me. I am sure, I am sure "What is the matter " asked Ralph, you will!" drawing a chair opposite, and sitting down. Ralph looked at her for an instant; then He was rather taken aback by the sud- turned away his liead, and beat his fool:den firmness with which Kate looked up nervously upon the ground. and answered him. " I have gone on day after day," said "The matter which brings me to you, Kate, bending over him, and timidly plac sir," she said, "' is one which should call ing her little hand in his, " in the hope that the blood up into your cheeks, and make this persecution would cease; I have gone 7ou burn to hear, as it does me to tell. I on day after day, compelled to assume the lave been wronged; my feelings have been appearance of cheerfulness, when I was,utraged, insulted, wounded past all heal- most unhappy. I have had no counsellor,.ng, and by your friends." no adviser, no one to protect me. Mainme "Friends!" cried Ralph, sternly. "I supposes that these are honourable men, nave no friends, girl." rich and distinguished, and how can I"' By the men I saw here, then," return- how can I undeceive her —when she is so ed Kate, quickly. " If they were no friends happy in these little delusions, which are of yours, and you knew what they were,- the only happiness she has? The lady oh, the more shame on you, uncle, for with whom you placed me, is not the perbringing me among them. To have sub- son to whom I could confide matters of so jected me to what I was exposed to here, much delicacy, and I have come at last to through any misplaced confidence or imper-. you, the only friend I have at hand-almost fect knowledge of your guests, would have the only friend I have at all-to entreat and required some strong excuse; but if you implore you to assist me." did it-as I now believe you did-knowing "How can I assist you, child " said them well, it was most dastardly and cruel." Ralph, rising from his chair, and pacing up Ralph drew back in utter amazement at and down the room in his old attitude. this plaiil speaking, and regarded Kate with "You have influence with one of these the sternest look. But she met his gaze men, I know," rejoined Kate, emphatically proudly and firmly, and although her face " Would not a word from you induce the.m was very pale, it looked more noble and to desist from this unmanly course?" aandsome, lighted up as it was, than it had "No," said Ralph, suddenly turning, ever appeared before. "at least-that-I can't say it, if it would.' "There is some of that boy's blood in i" Can't say it!" yor' I see," said Ralph, speaking in his "No," said Ralph, coming to a dead stop tharshest tones, as something in the flash- and clasping his hands more tightly behind ing eye reminded him of Nicholas at their him. " I can't say it." last meeting. Kate fell back a step or two, and looken r"I hope there is!" replied Kate.'- I at him, as if in doubt whether she had should be proud to know it. I am young, heard aright. utmcie, and al) the difficulties and miserias " We are connected in business," said of my situation havs keptX it 63sUA, but 1 Ralph, poising himself alternately on hli I C H OLAS NIC K iEBY. 187 u;i and heels, and looking coolly in his With these disjointed exclamations, Newnihee's face, " in business, and I can't afford man wiped his own eyes with the afore to offend them. What is it, after all? We mentioned duster, and, limping to the street. have all our trials, and this is one of yours. door, opened it to let her out. Some girls would be proud to have such "Don't cry any more," whispered New. gallants at their fee.." man. "I shall see you soon. Ha! ha! ha! "Proud!" cried Kate. And so shall somebody else too. Yes, yes. "I don't say," rejoined Ralph, raising his Ho! ho!" lore-finger, " but that you do right to des-' God bless you," answered Kate, hurry. pise them; no, you show your good sense ing out, " God bless you." mn that, as indeed I knew from the first you "Same to you," rejoined Newman, openwould. Well. In all other respects you ing the door again a little way, to say so f.re comfortably bestowed. It's not much " Ha, ha, ha! Ho! ho! ho!" to bear. If this young lord does dog your And Newman Noggs opened the door footsteps, and whisper his drivelling inani- once again to nod cheerfully, and laughties in your ears, what of it It's a dis- and shut it, to shake his head mournfully, honourable passion. So be it; it won't last and cry. tong. Some other novelty will spring up Ralph remained in the same attitude till one day, and you will be released. In the he heard the noise of the closing door, mean time —" when he shrugged his shoulders, and after "In the mean time," interrupted Kate, a few turns about the room-hasty at first, with becoming pride and indignation, "I but gradually becoming slower, as he re, am to be the scorn of my own sex, and the lapsed into himself-sat down before his toy of the other; justly condemned by all desk. women of right feeling, and despised by a.l It is one of those problems of human naO honest and honourable men; sunken in my ture, which may be noted down, but not own esteem, and degraded in every eye solved; —although Ralph felt no remorse at that looks upon me. No, not if I work my that moment for his conduct towards the fingers to the bone, not if I am driven to innocent, true-hearted girl; although his the roughest and hardest labour. Do not libertine clients had done precisely what he mistake me. I will not disgrace your re- had expected, precisely what he most wish' commendation. I will remain in the house ed, and precisely what would tend most to in which it placed me, until I am entitled his advantage, still he hated them for doing to leave:t by the terms of my engagement; it, from the very bottom of his soul. — though, mind, I see these men no more. "Ugh!" said Ralph, scowling round, ana When I quit it, I will hide myself from shaking his clenched hand as the faces of.hem and you, and, striving to support my the two profligates rose up before his mind; mother by hard service, I will live at least "you shall pay for this. Oh! you shall in peace, and trust in God to help me." pay for this!" With these words, she waved her hand, As the usurer turned for consolation to and quitted the room, leaving Ralph Nic. his books and papers, a performance was kleby motionless as a statue. going on outside his office door, which The surprise with which Kate, as she would have occasioned him no snmall surclosed the room-door, beheld, close beside prise, if he could by any means have beit, Newman Noggs standing bolt upright in come acquainted with it. a little niche in the wall like some scare- Newman Noggs was the sole actor. Ile crow or Guy Faux laid up in winter quar. stood at a little distance from the door, with ters, almost occasioned her to call aloud. his face towards it; and with the sleeves But, Newman laying his finger upon his of his coat turned back at the wrists, was lips, she had the presence of mind to refrain,. occupied in bestowing the most vigorous, "Don't," said Newman, gliding out of scientific, and straightforward blows upon his rezess, and accompanying her across'the empty air. the hall. "Don't cry, don't cry." Two At first sight, this would have appeared very large tears, by-the-bye, were running merely a wise precaution in a man of down Newman's face as he spoke. sedentary habits, with a view of opening "I see how it is" said poor Noggs, draw- the chest and strengthening the muscles of ing from his pocket what seemed to be a the arms. But the intense eagerness and very old duster, and wiping Kate's eyes joy depicted in the face of' Newman Noggs, with it, as gently as if she were an infant. which. was suffiused with perspiration; the U Youl're giving way now. Yes, yes, very surprising energy with which he directed good; that's riglt, like that. It was right a constant succession of blows towards a not to give way before him. Yes yes! Ia, particular panel about five feet eight tioro Wa ha! Olh. ves. Poor thing I" the ground, and still w rked away in tle 188 NICHQLAS NICKLEBY. seast untiring and persevering manner, threshing, to within an nch!I his life, hu wiould hiea:e sufficiently explained'to the body's most active employer, AMr Raiip attebtive observer, that his imagination was Nickleby. CHAPTER XXIX. WF THE PROCEEDINGS OF NICHOLAS, AND CEUITAIN INTERNAL DIVISION5 IN TfHECOMPANY OF MR. VINCENT CRUMMLES. THE unexpected success and favour with Smike, after thinking a little while with ~hich his experiment't'Portsinonth' had his hands folded together, and his eyes bent;een received; inluced: Mr.'Crtinmi'les to upon his friend. prolong his stay ih'that town for i fortnight "Anybody who didn't know you as well beyond the period he had originally as- as I do,;iy dear fellow, would say vou higned for the duration of his visit, during were an accomplished courtier," said Nichwhiich time Nicholas persohnated a vast blas. variety of characters with'indiminished "I don't even know what that is," re. success, and attracted'so many people to plied Smike, shaking his head. "Shall I the theatre who had never bleen se'e n-'there ever see your sister 3" before, that a benefit was considered by the "' To be sure," cried Nicholas; "we shall manager a very promising speculation.- all be together one of these days-when Nicholas assenting to'the terms proposed, we are rich, Smike." the benefit was had, and by:it he realized "How is it that you, who are so kind ao less a sum thanr'twenty pounds.- and good to me, have nobody to be kind tc Possessed of -this unexpected wealth, his you?." asked Smike. "I cannot make that first act was to'inclose to hoonest John 6ut." Browdie the amount. of his friendly loan, "Why, it is a long story," replied Nich which he accompanied with many expres- olas,' and one you would' have some dif aions of gratitude'and esteem, andc many ficilty in comprehending, I rear. I have cordial wishes f6r hi~ matrimonial happi- an enemy-you understand what that is'. ness. To Newriabn'NNo'gs he;forwaided O' Oh, yes, I understand that," said Smike. one haif of the sum he had realized, en- ",Well, it is owing to him," returned treating him to tlake; an opportunity of Nicholas. "He is rich, and not so easily handing it to Kate in secret, and coieying punished as your ol enmy, Mr. Squeers. to her the warmest assurances of his love He is my tincle, but he is a Villain, and has ad affection. He made no mention of the done me wrong." way m which he had employed himself; "Has he though I" asked Smike, bendmerely informing Newman that a letter ing eagerly forward. " What is his name' addressed to him under his assumed name Tell me his name." at the Post Office, Portsmouth, would "Ralph-Ralph Nickleby." readily find him, and entreating that wor- "Ralph Nickleby," repeated Smike.thy friend to write full particulars of the " Ralph. I'll get that name by heart." situation of his mother and sister, and an He had muttered it over to himself some account of all the grand things that Ralph twenty' times, when a loud knock at the Nickleby had done for them since his de- door disturbed him from his occupation.parture from London. Before he coulld open it, Mr. Folair, the " You are out of spirits," said Smike, on pantomimist, thrust in his head. the night after the letter had been des. Mr. Folair's head was usually dccoratee patched. with a verv round hat, unusually high in "Not I!" rejoined Nicholas, with as- the crown, and curled up quite tight in the nmed gaiety, for the confession would have brims. On the present occasion he wore made the boy miserable all night; "I was it very much on one side, with the back thinking about my sister, Smike." part forward in consequence of its being "Sister!" the least rusty; round his neck he wore a "' Ay." flaming red worsted comforter, whereof "Is she like you?"- inquired Smike. the straggling ends peeped out beneath his "Why, so they say," replied Nicholas, threadbare Newmarket coat, which was'aughiog, "' only a great deal handsomer." very tight and buttoned all the way up.-,-hes must be very, beautiful," said He c trried in his hand one very airt6 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. I89 glove, and a cheap dress-cane -vith a glass "Yes," rejoined Mi Folair, looking handle; in short, his whole appearance round for an instant, find immediately car-,was unusually dashing, and demonstrated rying his eyes back again to the ceiling. a far more scrupulous attention to his toi- "And how dare you bring it here, sir." let, than he was in the habit of bestowing asked Nicholas, tearing it into very little upon it. pieces, and jerking it in a shower towards;"Good eveiing, sir," said Mr. Folair, the messenger. "Had you no fear of being taking off the tall hat, and running his fin- kicked down stairs, sir 1" gers through his hair. " I bring a commu- Mr. Folair turned his head-now ornanication. Hem!" mented with several fragments of the note "From whom, and what about." in- -towards Nicholas, and with the same im. quired Nicholas. "You are unusually perturbable dignity briefly replied 1"No." mysterious to-night." "Then," said Nicholas, taking up the "Cold, perhaps," returned Mr. Folair; tall hat and tossing it towards the door, " cold, perhaps. That is the fault of my " you had better follow that article of yout position —not of myself, Mr. Johnson. My dress, sir, or you may find yourself very position as a mutual friend requires it, sir." disagreeably deceived, and that within a Mr. Folair paused with a most impressive dozen seconds." look, and diving into the hat before noticed, " I say, Johnson," renjoii'trated Mr. Fol. drew from thence a small piece of whity- air, suddenly losing all his dignity, "none brown paper curiously folded, whence he of that, you know. No tricks with a gen. brought forth a note which it had served to tleman's wardrobe." keep clean, and handing it over to Nicho- "Leave the room," returned Nicholas. [as, said- " How could you presume to come here on " Have the goodness to read that, sir." such an errand, you scoundrel?" Nicholas, in a state of much amazement,. "Pooh! pooh!" said Mr. Folair, untook the note and broke the seal, glancing winding his comforter, and gradually get. at Mr. Folair as he did so, who, knitting ting himself out of it. "There —that'i his brow and pursing up his mouth with enough." great dignity, was sitting with his eyes "Enough!" cried Nicholas, adv'ancing steadily fixed upon the ceiling. towards him. Take yourself off, sir." It was directed to blank Johnson Esq., " Pooh! pooh! I tell you," returned Mr. by favour of Augustus Folair Esq.; and the Folair, waving his hand in deprecation of astonishment of Nicholas was in no degree any further Wrath; -" 1 wasn't in earnest essenied, when he found it to be couched I only brought it in joke.' in the following laconic terms: " You had better be careful how you in. dulge in such jokes again," said Nicholas, " Mr. Lenville presents his kind regards "or you may find an allusion to pulling to Mr. Johnson, and will feel obliged if he noses rather a dangerous reminder for the will inform him at what hour to-morrow subject of your facetiousness. Was it morning it will be most convenient to him written in joke too, pray 1" to meet Mr. L. at the Theatre, for the pur- "No no, that's the best of it," returned pose of having his nose pulled in the pre- the actor; "right down earnest - honour sence of the company. bright." " Mr Lenville requests Mr. Johnson not Nicholas could not repress a smile at the to neglect making an appointment, as he odd figure before him, which, at all times has invited two or three professional friends more calculated to provoke mirth than to witness the ceremony, and cannot disap- anger, was especially so at that -moment, point them upon any account whatever. when with one knee upon the ground Mr. "Portsmouth, Tuesday night." Folair twirled his old hat round upon his hand, and affected the extremest afony lest Indignant as he was at this impertinence, any of the nap should have been knocked there was something so exquisitely absurd off —an ornament which, it is almost sbn. in such a cartel of defiance, that Nicholas perfluous to say, t had not boasted for was obliged to bite his lip and read the note many months. over tv o or three times before he could "Come, sir," sama Nicholas, laughing in muster sufficient gravity and sternness to spite of himself. "Have the goodness to address the hostile messenger, who had not explain." taken his eyes from the ceiling, nor altered'Why, I'll tell you how it is," said Mr. %he expression of his face in the slightest Folair, sitting himself down in a chair with degree. great coolness. "'Since you came here, "Do you know the contents of this note, Lenville has done nothing but second busi sit v" he asked, at length. ness, and, instead of having a receptior 190 NICHOLAS NICkLEB.Y.. every night. as he used to have, tnev have scrupulous, Nicholas had not nmuch doubt let him come on as if he was nobody." but that he had secret Iy prompted the,, What do you mean by a reception?" tragedian in the course he had taken, and, aked Nicholas. moreover, that he would have carried his "Jupiterr!" exclaimed Mr. Folair, "'what mission with a very high hand if he had an unsophisticated shepherd you are, John- not been disconcerted by the very unexpec& son! Why, applause from the house when ed demonstrations with which it had been you first come on. So he has gone on received. It was not worth his while to be night after night, never getting a hand and serious with him, however, so he dismissed you getting a couple of rounds at least, and the pantomimist, with a gentle hint that if sometimes three, till at length he got quite he offended again it would be under the desperate, and had half a mind last night penalty of a broken head; and Mr. Folair, to play Tybalt with a real sword, and pink taking the caution in exceedingly good you-not dangerously, but just enough to part, walked away to confer with his prinJay you up for a month or two." cipal, and give such an account of his pro " Very considerate," remarked Nicholas. ceedings as he might think best calculated "Yes, I think it was under the circum- to carry on the joke. agtances; his professional reputation being He had no doubt reported that Nicholas at stake," said Mr. Folair, quite seriously. was in a state of extreme bodily fear; for,But his heart failed him, and he cast when that young gentleman walked with about for some other way of annoying you, much deliberation down to the theatre next and making himself popular at' the same morning at the usual hour, he found all the time-for that's the point. Notoriety, no- company assembled in evident expectation, toriety, is the thing. Bless you, if he had and Mr. Lenville, with his severest stage pinked you," said Mr. Folair, stopping to face, sitting majestically on a table, whistmake a calculation in his mind, " it would ling defiance. have been worth-ah, it would have been Now the ladies were on the side of Nichworth eight or ten shillings a week to him. olas, and the gentlemen (being jealous) All the town would have come to see the were on the side of the disappointed trageactor who nearly killed a man by mistake; dian; so that the latter formed a little I shouldn't wonder if it had got him an en- group about the redoubtable Mr. Lenville, gagement in London. However, he was and the former looked on at a little distance obliged to try some other mode of getting in some trepidation and anxiety. On Nichpopular, and this one occurred to him. It's olas stopping to salute them, Mr. Lenville a clever idea, really. If you had shown laughed a scornful laugh, and made some the white feather, and let him pull your, general remark touching the natural hisaose, he'd have got it into the paper; if tory of puppies. you had sworn the peace against him, it "Oh!" said Nicholas, looking quietly would have been in the paper too, and he'd round, "are you there'!" have been just as much talked about as "Slave!" returned Mr. Lenville, flour. you —don't you see?" ishiing his right arm, and approaching N iih"Oh certainly," rejoined Nicholas; "but olas with a theatrical stride. But somehow suppose I were to turn the tables, and pull he appeared just at that moment a little his nose, what then? Would that make startled, as if Nicholas did not look quite his f)rtune?" so frightened as he had expected, and came " Why, I don't think it would," replied all at once to an awkward halt, at which Mr. Folair, scratching his head, " because the assembled ladies burst into a shrill there would'nt be any romance about it, laugh. and he would'nt be favourably known.- "Object of my scorn and hatred!" said To tell you the truth though, he did'nt cal- Mr. Lenville, "I hold ye in contempt." culate much upon that, for you're always Nicholas laughed in very unexpected so mild-spoken, and are so popular among enjoyment of this performance; and tire fhe women, that we didn't suspect you of ladies, by way of encouragement, laughed showing fight. If you did, however, he louder than'before; whereat Mr. Lenville has a way of getting out of it easily, de- assumed his bitterest smile, and expressed pend upon that." his opinion that they were " nlinions." "Has h.?" rejoined Nicholas. "'We "But they shall not protect ye!" said will try, to-morrow morning. In the mean- the tragedian, taking an upward look at tinle, you can give whatever account of Nicholas, beginning at his boots and ending our interview you like best. Good night." at the crown of his head, and then a downAs Mr. Folair was pretty well known ward one, beginning at the crown of his Imong his fellow-actors for a man who de. head, and ending at his boots-which two Jipgated in mischief and was by no means looks, as everybody knows, express defiance NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 9] on the stagre. "They shall not piotect ye Mrs. Lenville may have a good one; and -boy!" when it does come, and you are a father, Thus speaking, Mr. Lenville folded his you shall retract it if you have the courage. arms, and treated Nicholas to that expres- There. Be careful, sir, to what lengths sion of face with which, in melo-dramatic your jealousy carries you another time; Derformaluces, he was in the habit of re- and be careful, also, before you venture too garding the tyrannical kings when they far, toascertain your rival's temper." With said,' AwPaT with him to the deepest dun- this parting advice Nicholas picked up Mr. geon beneath the castle moat;' and wnicll, Lenville's ash stick which had flown olt accompanied with a little jingling of fet- of his hand, and breaking it in half; threw ters, had been known to produce great him the pieces and withdlrew, bowing slight effects in its time. ly to. the spectators as he walked out. Whether it was the absence of the The profoundest deference was paid to fetters or not, it made no very deep im- Nicholas that night, and the people who pression on Mr. Lenville's adversary, how- had been most anxious to have his nose ever, but rather seemed to increase the pulled in the morning, embraced occasions good humour expressed in his countenance; of taking him aside, and telling him with In which stage of the contest, one or two great feeling, how very friendly they took gentlemen, who had come out expressly to it that he should have treated that Lenville witness the pulling of Nicholas's nose, so properly, who was a most unbearable grew impatient, murmu:ing that if it were fellow, and on whom they had all, by a reto be done at all it had better be'done at markable coincidence, at one time or other once, and that if Mr. Lenville didn't mean contemplated the infliction of condign pun, to do it he had better say so, and not keep ishment, which they had only been restrain. them waiting there. Thus urged, the ed from administering by considerations of tragedian adjusted the cuff of his right mercy; indeed, to judge from the invariacoat sleeve for the performance of the ble termination of all these stories, there operation, and walked in a very stately never was such a charitable and kind-heartmanner up to Nicholas, who suffered him ed set of people as the male members of to approach to within the requisite distance, Mr. Crummles's company. and then, without the smallest discom- Nicholas bore his triumph, as he had his posure, knocked him down. success in the little world of the theatre, Before the discomfited tragedian could with the utmost moderation and good huraise his head from the boards, Mrs. Len- imrur. The crest-fallen Mr. Lenville made ville (who. as has been before hinted, was an expiring effort to obtain revenge by send. i at interesting state) rushed from the ing a boy in the gallery to hiss; but he fell rear sank of ladies, and uttering a piercing a sacrifice to popular indignation, and was ream threw herself upon the body. promptly turned out without having his " Do you see this, monster 1 Do you see money back. his?" cried Mr. Lenville, sitting up, and 1 "Well, Smike," said Nicholas when the Hointing to his prostrate lady, who was first piece was over, and he had armost finolding hin very tight round the waist. ished dressing to go home, " is there any "Come," said Nicholas, nodding his letter yet?" lead, ", apologize for the insolent note you "Yes," replied Smike, "I got this; one'wrote to me last night, and waste no more from the post-office." Ltme in talkinrg. " From Newman Noggs," said Nicholas, "Never!"' cried Mr. Lenville. casting his eye upon the cramped direction; "Yes-yes-yes-" screamed his wife. "it's no easy matter to make his writing' For my sake-for mine, Lenville-forego out. Let me see-let me see." atl idle forms, unless you would see me a By dint of poring over the letter for half blighted corse at your feet." an hour, he contrived to make himself mas. "This is affecting!" said Mr. Lenville, ter of the contents, which were certainly looking round him, and' drawing the back not of a nature to set his mind at ease. ot his hand acress his eyes. "The ties of Newman took upon himsof to send back nature are strong. The weak husband and the ten pounds, observing that he had as the father-the father that is yet to be- certained that neither Mrs. Nickleby nor;elents. I apologize." Kate was in actual want of money at the "Humbly and submissively?" said Ni- moment, and that a tilme might shortly cholas. come when Nicholas might want it more. " Humbly and submissively," returned He entreated him not to be alarmed at what?Ie tragedian, scowling upwards. "But he was about to say; —there was no bad only to save her,-for a time will come —" news-they were in good health. -but he'Very good," said Nicholas; I hope thought circumstances might occur, or were 192 N-ICHOLAS N ICK LEBY occurlng, which wouid render it absolutely " WVhy, he.don't mean to say lie s ipecessary that Kate should have her bro- ing!" exclaimed Mrs. Grudden, niek ne ther's protection, and if so, Newman said, her way towards Mrs. Crummiles. "Ho, ty, he would write to him to that effect, either toity! nonsense." by the next post, or the next but one. The phenomenon, being of an affect!;o. Nicholas read this passage very often, ate nature and moreover excitable, ra sed and the more he thought of it the more he a loud cry, and Miss Belvawney and Dliss. began to fearsome treachery upon the part Bravassa actually shed tears. Even the of Ralph. Once or twice he fblt tempted male performers stopped in their convevsa. to -repair to London at all hazards without tion, and echoed the word " Going!" abl an hour's delay, but a jittle reflection as- though some among them (and they.ad sured hiln that if such a step were neces- been the loudest in their congratulathons sary, Newman would have spoken out and that day) winked at each other as tho-h told him so at once. they would not be sorry to lose such a "At all events I should prepare them voured rival; an opinion, indeed, whiclh tl here for the possibility of -my going away honest Mr. Folair, who was ready dresed4 Suddenly," said Nicholas; " I should lose for the savage, openly stated in so me.iy no time in doing that." As the thought words to a demon with whom he was shlr. occurrud to him, he took up his hat and ing a pot of porter. hurried to the green-room. Nicholas briefly said that he. feared t' Well, Mr. Johnson," said Mrs. Crum- would be so, although he could not -t rples, who was seated there in full regal speak with any degree of certainty; asd costume, with the phenomenon as the maid- getting away as soon as he could, we*t en in her maternal arms, "next week for home to con Newman's letter once mo, 3, Ryde, then for Wincester, then for " and speculate upon it afresh. " have some reason to fear," interrupt- How trifling all that had been occupy; g ed Nicholas, "'that before you leave here his time and thoughts for many wee a my career with you will have closed." seemed to him during that sleepless nip t, " Closed!" cried Mrs. Crummles, raising and how constantly and incessantly pres. it ner hands in astonishment. to his imagination was the one idea i t 6 "Closed!" cried Miss Snevellicci, trem- Kate in the midst of some great tro' a wting so much in her tights that she actu- and distress might even then be ltxokib aily laid her hand upon the shoalder of th and vainly too-for him! s3nagerews foi stpport. NICHOLAS NICKLB BY.; CHAPTER XXX. FESTIVITIES ARE' HELD IN HONOUR OF NICHOLAS, WHO SUIDJDENLY WIT'H DRAWS HIMSELF FROM THE SOCIETY OF MR. VINCENT CRUMMLES AND HIS THEATRICAL COMPANIONS. MR. VINCEN"rT CRUMMLES was no sooner Mr. Crummiles, with a look of disappoint. acquainted -ith tlYe public announcement ment. " What do you think of a brilliant which Nicholas had made relative to the display of fireworks!" probability of his' shrtly ceasing to be a'That it would be rather expensive," member of the company, tha.n he evinced Replied Nicholas, drily. many tokens: of gref! and consternation;'Eighteenpence would de it," said Mr. and, in the extremity of his despair,'even Crummles. "You on the top; of a pair of held out certain vague promises of a speetdy steps with the phenomenon in an attitude; unprovement not ynljr in the amount of his'Farewell' on a transparency behind; and renular salary,'bitalso ih the contingent nine people at the wings with a squib in:emoluments appertaining'to his authorship. each hand-all the dozen aind a half going "ihnding. Nicholap bent upon quitting' the off at once-it would bevery grald-awfl 0ociety-for he had now' determined that, from the front, quite awful." even if no further tidings came from New- As Nicholas appeared by no means imnan, he would, atf all ha. zards, ease his mind pressed with the solemnity of the propoe. byrepairing'to London and' asceitaining the ed effect, but en the contrary, received the xact position of his sister-Mr. Crummnles proposition in a most irreverent man. Was fain to content himself'by'calculating ner and laughed at it very heartily, Mr:the chances of his coming back again and Crummles abandoned the project in it! lking prompt and energetic measures to birth, and gloomily observed that they'make the most of him before he went away. must make up the best bill they could with " L et me see," said Mr. Crummles, combats and hornpipes, and so stick to the taking off his outlaw's wig, the better to legitimate drama. arrive at a cool-headed view of the whole For the purpose of carrying this object case. "Let me see. This is Wednesday into instant execution, the managrer at night. We'll have posters out the first once repaired to a small dressing-room ad. thing in the morning, announcing positive' jacent, where Mrs. Crummles was then y your last appearance for tomorrow." occupied in exchanging the habiliments But perhaps it may not be my last of a melo-dramatic empress for the ordiappearance, you know," said Nicholas.- nary attire of matrons in' the nineteenth'Unless I am summoned away, I should century. And with the assistance of this xe sorry to inconvenience you by lea;ing lady, and the accomplished Mrs Grudden,hefore the end of the week." (who had quite a genius for making o0t " So much the better," returned Mr. bills, being a great hand at throwing in Crummles. " We can have positively the notes of admiration, and knowing fiom your last appearance, on Thursday-se- long experience exactly where the largest engagement for one night more, on Friday capitals ought to go), he seriously applied -and, yielding to the wishes of numerous himself to the composition of, the poster. influential patrons, who were disappointed "Heigho!" sighed Nicholas, as lie threw in obtaining seats, on Saturday. That himself back in the prompter's chair, aftei aught to bring" three very'decert houses." telegraphing the needful directions to Then I am to make three last appear-' Smike, who had been playing a meagre ances, am I!' inquired Nicholas, smiling. tailor in the interlude,'with one skirt to "Yes,"' rejoined the manager, scratch. his coat, and a little pocket handkerchief ing his head with an air of some vexa- with "a large hole in it, and a woollen tion; " three is not enough, and it's very nightcap, and a red nose, and other distinebiungling and irregular not to have more, tive marks peculiar to tailors on the stage. but if we can't help it we can't, so there's " Heigho! I wish all this were over." no use in tarking. A novelty would be Over, Mr. Johnson!" repeated a female Very desirable. You couldn't sing a comic voice behind him, in a kind of plaintive sur'tng on the pony's back, could you'" prise. No," replied Nicholas, "'I couldn't "It was an ungallant speech, certainly, indeed."' said Nicholas, looking up to set whc the'' It has drawn money before now,' maid speaker was, and recognising Mixs Sne. ID't ~} I (:r'UCH OLA NIC C I LEBY.~ velllcci.' 1 wvoulh not have made it if I ing something disagreeable. That's m had known you had been within hearing." everybody's mouth." " What a dear that Mr. Digby is!" said "The'everybody' of the theatre, I supMiss Snevellicci, as the tailor went off on pose?" said Nicholas, contemptuously. the opposite side, at the end of the piece, "In it and out of it too," replied the actor. with great applause., (Smike's theatrical "Why, you know, Lenville says-" came was Digby.) "I thought I had silenced him effectu. "I'll tell him presently, for his gratifi- ally," interrupted Nicholas, reddening. cation, that you said so," returned Nicholas. "Perhaps you have," rejoined the in-. "Oh you naughty thing!" rejoined Miss movable Mr. Folair; "if you have, he said Snevellicci. " I don't know, though, that this before he was silenced: Lenville says I should much mind his knowing my opi- that you're a regular stick of an actor, and nion of him; with some other people, in- that it's only the mystery about you that deed, it might be-" Here Miss Snevel- has caused you to go down with the people licei stopped, as though waiting to be here, and that Crumroles keeps it up for his questioned; but no questioning came, for own sake; though Lenville says he don't Nicholas was thinking about more serious believe there's anything at all in it, except matters. your having got into a scrape and run away,, How kind it is of you," resumed Miss from somewhere, for doing something or S3nevellicci, after a short silence, "to sit other." waiting here for him night after night, "Oh!" said Nicholas, forcing a smile. night after night, no matter how tired you "That's a part of what he says," added are; and taking so much pains with him, Mr. Folair. "I mention it as the friend and doing it all with as much delight and of both parties, and in strict confidence. I readiness as if you were coining gold by don't agree with him, you know. He says it!" he takes Digby to be more knave than fool; " He well deserves all the kindness I and old Fluggers, who does the heavy bu. can show him, and a great deal more," siness you know, he says that when he desaid Nicholas. " He is the most grateful, livered messages at Covent Garden the sea. single-hearted, affectionate creature, that son before last, there used to be a pick. ever breathed." pocket hovering about the coach-stand who "So odd, too," remarked Miss Snevel- had exactly the face of Digby; though, as licci, "isn't he?3" he very properly says, Digby may not be 1" God help him, and those who have made the same, but only his brother, or some him so, he is indeed," rejoined Nicholas, near relation." Shaking his head. "Oh!" cried Nicholas again. " He is such a devilish close chap," said "Yes," said Mr. Folair, with undisturbbd Mr. Folair, who had come up a little be- calmness, "that's what they say. Ithought fore, and now joined in the conversation. I'd tell you, because really you ought to "Nobody can ever get anything out of know. Oh! here's this blessed phenomebim." non at last. Ugh, you little imposition, I "What should they get out of him!" should like to-quite ready, my darling,asked Nicholas, turning round with some humbug-Ring up Mrs. G., and let the faabruptness. vourite wake'em." "Zooks! what a fire-eater you are, John-'Uttering in a loud voice such of the latter son!" returned Mr. Folair, pulling up the allusions as were complimentary to the un. heel of his dancing-shoe. " I'm only talk- conscious phenomenon, and giving the rest ing of the natural curiosity of the people in a confidential "aside" to Nicholas, Mr. here, to know what he has been about all Folair followed the ascent of the curtain his life." with his eyes, regarded with a sneer the " Poor fellow! it is pretty plain, I should reception of Miss Crummles as the Maiden, think, that he has not the intellect to have and, falling back a step or two to advance been about anything of much importance with the better effect, uttered a preliminary to them or anybody else," said Nicholas. howl, and "v went on" chattering his teeth "Ay," rejoined the actor, contemplating and brandishing his tin tomahawk as the the effect of his face in a lamp reflector, Indian Savage. "but that involves the whole question, you "So, these are some of the stories they know." invent about us, and handy from mouth to "What question?" asked Nicholas. mouth!" thought Nicholas. "If a man "Why, the who he is and what he is, and would commit an inexpiable offence against how you two, who are so different, came to any society, large or small, let him be suche such close compagions," replied Mr. Fbl- cessful. They will forgive him any crime.i. delighted with the;2portunity of say- but that." NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 19b "'You surely don't mind what that ma- gave rise to a struggle, in ahich Nicholas ticlous creature says, AMr. Johnson " ob- captured the basket and the band-box like. served Miss Snevellicci in her most win- wise. Then Nicholas said, that he wonning tones. dered what could possibly be inside the bas. "Not I,", replied Nicholas. "If I were ket, and attempted to peep in, whereat Miss going to remain here, I night think it worth Snevellicci screamed, and declared that if mny while to embroil myself. As it is, let she thought he had seen, she was sure she them talk till they are hoarse. But here," should faint away. -This declaration was added Nicholas, as Smnike approached, followed by a similar attempt on the band, "here comes the subject of a portion of box, and similar demonstrations on the part their good-nature, so let he and I say good of Miss Ledrook, and then both ladies night together." vowed that they wouldn't move a step fur. " No, I will not let either ofyou say any- ther until Nicholas had promised that he thing of the kind;" returned Miss Snevel- wouldn't offer to peep again. At last Ni. licci. " You must come and see mamma, cholas pledged himself'to betray no further who only came to Portsmouth to-day, and curiosity, and they walked on: both ladiet is dying to behold you. Led, my'dear, per- giggling very much, and declaring thai suade Mr. Johnson." they never had seen such a wicked crea. "Oh, I'm sure," returned Miss'Ledrook, ture in,all their born days,-never. with considerable vivacity, "if you can't Lightening the way with such pleasantry persuade him -" Miss Ledrook said no as this, they arrived at the tailor's house more, but intimated, by a dexterous play- in no time; and here they made quite s filness, that if Miss Snevellicci couldn't little party, there being present, besides persuade him, nobody could. Mr. Lillyvick and Mrs. Lillyvick, not only " Mr. and Mrs. Lillyvick have taken lodg- Miss Snevellicci's mamma, butherpapaalso ings in our house, and share our sitting- And an uncommonly fine man.Miss Snevel. room for the present," said Miss Snevellicci. licci's papa was, with a hook nose, and a UWon't that induce you'" white forehead, and curly black hair, and " Surely," returned Nicholas, "I can re- high cheek bones, and altogether quite a quire no possible inducement beyond your handsome face, only a little pimply as invitation." though with drinking. And. a very broad " Oh no! I dare say," rejoined Miss Sne- chest had Miss Snevellicci's papa, and he vellicci. And Miss Ledrook said, "Upon wore a threadbare blue dress coat buttoned my word!" Upon which Miss Snevellicci with gilt buttons tight across it; and he said that Miss Ledrook was a giddy thing; no sooner saw Nicholas come into the room, and Miss Ledrook said that Miss Snevel- than he whipped his two fore-fingers of his lieci needn't colour up quite so much; and right hand in between the two centre butMiss Snevellicci beat Miss Ledrook, and tons, and sticking his other arm gracefully Miss Ledrook beat Miss Snevellicci. a-kimbo seemed to say, "Now, here I am, " Come," said Miss Ledrook, "it's high my buck, and what have you got to say to time we were there, or we shall have poor me?" Mrs. Snevellicci thinking that you have Such.Was, and in' such an attitude sat, run away with her daughter, Mr. John- Miss Snevellicci's papa, who had been in son; and then we should have a pretty to the profession ever since he had first played do." the ten-year old imps in the Christmas "My dear Led," remonstrated Miss Sne- pantomimes; who could sing a little, dance vellicci, "how you do talk!" a little, fence a little, act a little, ana do Miss Ledrook made no answer, but taking everything a little, but not much; who had Smike's arm in hers, left her friend and been sometimes in the ballet, and someNicholas to follow at their pleasure; which times in the chorus, at every theatre in it pleased them, or rather pleased Nicholas, London; who was always selected in viiwho had no great fancy for a tte-d-tkte un-. tue of his figure to play the military visitors ter the circumstances, to do at once. and the speechless noblemen; who always There were not wanting matters of con- wore a smart dress, and came cn arim-itversation when they reached the street, for arm with a smart lady in short petticoats,it turned out that Miss Snevellicci had a and a.ways did it too with such an air that small basket to carry home, and Miss Led- people in the pit had been several tilns rook a small band-box, both containing such known to cry out " Bravo!" under the ira. minor articles of theatrical costume as the pression that he was somebody. Suclh was lady performers usually carried to and fro Miss Snevellicci's papa, upon whom some every evening. Nicholas would insist upon envious persons cast the imputation that. carryinmg the basket, and Miss Snevellicci occasionally beat MissSnvellicci's an)nia. would insist upon carrying it herself, which who was still a dancer, with a neat litl!e 196 NICHO-LAS NICKLEBY. figure and some remains of good looks; purple in the attempt to keep down hit and who now sat, as she danced,-being satisfaction. rather too old fbr the full glare of the foot- By this time the cloth had been laid un. lights,-in the back ground. der the joint superintendence of all the la. To these good people Nicholas was pre- dies, upon two tables put togetlier, one being sented with much formality. The intro- high and narrow, and the other low ana duction being completed, Miss Snevellicci's broad. There were oysters at the top. papa (who was scented with rum and water) sausages at the bottom, a pair of snuffers in said that he was delighted- to make the ac- the centre, and baked potatoes wherever it quaintance of a gentleman so highly talent- was most convenient to put them. Two ed; and furthermore remarked, that there additional chairs were brought in from the hadn't been such a:it made-no, not since bed-room; Miss Snevellicci sat at the head the first appearance of his friend Mr. Gla- of the table, and Mr. Lillyvick at the foot; vbrmelly, at the Coburg. and Nicholas had not only the honour of'"You have seen him, Sir!" said Miss sitting next Miss Snevellicci, but of having Snevellicci's papa. Miss Snevellicci's mamma on his right hand, " No, really I never did," replied Nich- and Miss Snevellicci's papa over the way. alas. In short, he was the hero of the feast; and "You never saw my friend qClavormelly, when the table was cleared and something. Sir!" said Miss Snevellicci's papa. 1" Then warm introduced, Miss Snevellicci's papa you have never seen acting yet. If he got up and proposed his health in a speech had lived- " containing such affecting allusions to his "Oh, he is dead, is he." interrupted coming departure, that Miss Snevellicci Nicholas. wept, and was compelled to retire into thle ": He is," said Mr. Snevellicci, "but he bed-room. isn't in Westminster Abbey, more's the "Ihush! Don't take any notice of it," shame. He was a- W'ell, no matter. said Miss Ledrook, peeping in from the He is gone to that bourne from whence bed-room. "Say, when she comes back no traveller returns. I hope he is appreci- that she exerts herself too much." ated there." Miss Ledrook eked out this speech with* So saying, Miss Snevellicci's papa rubbed so many mysterious nods and frowns beore' the tip of his nose with a very yellow silk she shut the door again, that a profound si. handkerchief, and gave the company to lence came upon all the company, during' understand that these recollections over- which Miss Snevellicci's papa looked very came him. big indeed-several sizes larger than life"Well, Mr. Lillyvick," said Nicholas, at everybody in turn, but particularly at "'and how are you?" Nicholas, and kept on perpetually emptying' Quite well, Sir," replied the collector. his tumbler and filling it, again, until the "There is nothing like the married state, ladies returned in a cluster, with Miss Sir, depend upon it." Snevellicci among them. "Indeed!" said Nicholas, laughing. " You needn't alarin yourself a bit, Mr "Ah! nothing like it, Sir," replied' Mr. Snevellicci," said' Mrs. Lillyvick. " She Lillyvick solemnly. "Iow do you think," is only a little weak and nervous; she ha whispered the collector, drawing him aside, been so ever since the; morninig." " How do you think she looks to-night?" "Oh," said Mr. Snevellicci, "that's all, "As handsome as ever, replied Nicho- is it las, glancing at the late Miss Petowker. "Oh yes, that's ail. Don't make a fuh "'Why, there's a air about her, Sir," about it," cried all the ladies together. whispered the collector, "'that I never saw Now this was not exactly the: kind of in anybody. Look: at her now:she moves reply suited to Mr. Snevellicci's import. to put the kettle on. There i Isn't it fas-' ance as a man and a father, so' he picked cination, Sir'" out the unfortunate Mrs. Snevellicci, and "You're a lucky man," said Nicholas. asked her what the devil she meant bly "Ha, ha, ha!" rejoined the collector. talking to him in that way.'No. Do you think I am, though, eh. "Dear me, my dear-'" said Mrs. Perhaps I may be, perhaps I may be. I Snevellicci. say, I couldn't have done much better if I " Don't call me your dear, ma'am," said had been a young man, could I? You Mr. Snevellicci, " if you please." couldn't have done much better yourself, "Pray, pa, don't," interposed Miss Snecould you-eh-could you " With such vellicci. inquiries, and many more such, Mr. Lilly- " Don't what, my child." vick jerked his elbow into Nicholas's side, "Talk in that way." mud chuck.ed till his face became quite Why not?" said Mr. SnevellitccJ 1 qNICHOLA'S NICKLEBY. 197 bope you dcn't suppose there's anybody "One good turn deserves another," said here who is to prevent my talking as I Mr. Snevellicei. I love them and they like?'1'' love me." And as if this avowal were not "Nobody wants to, pa," rejoined his made in sufficient disregard and defiance daughter. of all moral obligations, what did Mr. Slle", Nobody would if they did want to," vellicci do? He winked-winked, openly said Mr. Snevellicci. "I am not ashamed and undisguisedly; winked with his right! of myself. Snevellicci is my name; I'm eye-upon Henrietta Lillyvick! to be found in Broad Court, Bow Street, The collector fell ha.k in his chair in when I'm in town. If I'm not athome, let the intensity of his astonishment. If any. any man ask for me at the stage door. body had winked at her as Henrietta Pe. Damme, they know me at the stage door I towker, it would have been indecorous in suppose. Most men have seen my portrait the last degree; but as Mrs. Lillyvick! at the cigar shop round the corner. I've While he thought of it in a cold perspira. been mentioned in the newspapers before tion, and wondered whether it was possible now, haven't I? Talk! I'll tell you what; that he could be dreaming, Mr. Snevellicci If I found out that any man had been tam- repeated the wink, and drinking to Mrs. pering with the affections of my daughter, Lillyvick in dumb show, actually blew her I wouldn't talk. I'd astonish him without a kiss! Mr. Lillyvick left his chair, walked talking; —that's my way." straight up to the other end of the table, So saying, Mr. Snevellicci struck the and fell upon him-literally fell upon him — palm of his left hand three smart blows instantaneously. Mr. Lillyvick was no with his clenched fist: pulled a phantom light weight, and consequently when he nose with'his right thumb and fore finger, fell upon Mr. Snevellicci, Mr. Snevellicci and swallowed another glassful at adraught. fell under the table. Mr. Lillyvick fol"-That's my way," repeated Mr. Snevel- lowed him, and the ladies screamed. licci. " What is the matter with'the men,Most public characters have their fail- are they mad!" cried Nicholas, diving un ings; and the truth is that Mr. Snevellicci der the table, dragging up the collector by was a little addicted to drinking; or, if the main force, and thrusting him, all doubled whole truth must be told, that he was up, into a chair, as if he had been a stuffed scarcely ever sober. He knew in his cups figure. "'What do you mean to do? what three distinct stages of intoxication,-the do you want to do what is the matter dignified-the quarrelsome-the amorous. with you?" When professionally engaged he never got While Nicholas raised up the collector, beyond the dignified; in private circles he Smike had performed the same office for went through; all three, passing from one Mr. Snevellicci, who now regarded his late to another with a rapidity of transition adversary in tipsy amazement. often:rather perplexing to those who had " Look here, Sir," replied Mr. Lillyvick, not the honourof his acquaintance. pointing to his astonished wife, " here is Thus Mr. Snevellicci had no sooner purity and elegance combined, whose feel. swallowed another glassful than he smiled ings have been outraged-violated, Sir!" upon all present in happy forgetfulness of "'Lor, what nonsense he talks!" ex having exhibited symptoms of pugnacity, claimed Mrs. Lillvvick in answer to tlhe and proposed "The ladies —bless their inquiring look of Nicholas. "Nobody haw hearts!" in a most vivacious manner. said anything to me." "I love'em," said Mr. Snevellicci, look- " Said, Henrietta!" cried the collectol. ing round the table, " I love'em, every "Didn't I see him-" Mr. Lillyvick' one." couldn't bring himself to utter the whrti " Not every one,'" reasoned Mr. Lilly- but he counterfeited the motion of the eye. vick, mildly. " Well!" cried Mrs. Lillyvick.: "Do " Yes, every one," repeated Mr. Snevel- you suppose nobody is ev er to look at me I licci. A pretty thing to be married indeed, if that, " That would include the married ladies, was law!" you know," said Mr. Lillyvick. "You didn't mind it?" cried the col "I love them too, Sir," said Mr. Snevel- lector. licci. - "Mind it!" repeated Mrs. Lillyvick The collector looked into the surround- contemptuously. " You ought to go down ing faces with an aspect of grave astonish- on your knees and beg everybody's' pa't. ment, seeming to say, " This is a nice don, that you ought." man!" and appeared a little surprised that " Pardon, my dear 1" said the- dislzayed Mrs. Lillyvick's manner'yielded no evi- collector. iences'e horror and indignation. "Yes, and mine first," replied 3 rar i98 NICHOLAS NICK LEBY. Lillyvick. "L Do you suppose I ain't the would have the honcur of making his ta~ best judge of what's proper and what's im- appearance that evening, and how that an proper?" early application for places was requested, I" To be sure," cried all the ladies.- in consequence of the extraordinary over. " Do you suppose we shouldn't be the first flow attendant on his perfiormances,-it be to speak, if there was anything that ought ing a remarkable fact in the theatrical his.to be taken notice of?" tory, but one long since established beyond "Do you suppose they don't know, Sir?" dispute, that it is a hopeless endeavour to said Miss Snevellicci's papa, pulling up his attract people to a theatre unless they can collar, and muttering something about a be first brought to believe that they will punching of heads, and being only with- never get into it. held by considerations of age. With which Nicholas was somewhat at a loss, on en. Miss Snevellicci's papa looked steadily and tering the theatre at night, to account foi sternly at Mr. Lillyvick for some seconds, the unusual perturbation and excitement and then rising deliberately from his chair, visible in the countenances of all the comr kissed the ladies all round, beginning with pany, but he was not long in doubt as tu IMrs. Lillyvick. the cause, for before he could make any in Theunhappy collector looked' piteously quiry respecting it Mr. Crumnles approach. at his wife, as if to see whether there was ed, and in an agitated tone of voice, inform. any trait of Miss Petowker left in Mrs. ed him that there was a London manages Lillyvick, and finding, too surely that there in the brxes. was not, begged pardon of all the company "It s the phenomenon, depend upon i, with great humility, and sat down such a Sir," said Crummles, dragging Nicholas w crest-fallen, dispirited, disenchanted man, the little hole in the curtain that he might that despite all his selfishness and dotage, look through at the London manager. "1 he was quite an object of compassion. have not the smallest doubt it's the fanme of Miss Sne;ellicci's papa being greatly the phenomenon-that's the man; him in exalted by this triumph, and incontestible the great-coat and no shirt-collar. She proof of his popularity with the fair sex, shall have ten pound a-week, Johnson; she quickly grew convivial, not to say uproari- shall not appear on the London boards fbi ous; volunteering more than one song of a farthing less. They shan't engage hei na inconsiderable length, and regaling the either, unless they engage Mrs. Crummles &ucial circle between-whiles with recollec- too-twenty pound a-week for the pair; or tions of divers splendid women who had I'll tell you what, I'll throw in myself and been supposed to entertain a' passion Tor the two boys, and they shall have the family aimself, several of whom he tn.sted by for thirty. I can't say fairer than that.name, taking occasion to re,.jark at the They must take us all, if none of us will same time that if he had been a little more go without the others. That's the way alive to his own' tr.,,rest, he might have some of the London people do, and it al. been rolling At that moment in his chariot- ways answers. Thirty pound a-week-it's asd-four. Thesi, reminiscences appeared too cheap, Johnson. It's dirt cheap." to awaken no very torturing pangs in the Nicholas replied, that it certainly was, breast of Mrs. Snevellicci, who was suffi- and Mr. Vincent Crummles taking several siently occupied in descanting to Nicholas huge pinches of snuff to compose his feelupon mne manifold accomplishments and ings, hurried away to tell Mrs. CrummIle merlts of her daughter. Nor was the young that he had quite settled the only terme lady herself at all behind-hand in display- that could be accepted, and had resolved not mg her choicest allurements; but these, to abate one single farthing. heightened as they were by the artifices of When everybody was dressed and the Miss Ledrook, had no effect whatever in curtain went up, the excitement occasioned increasing the attentions of Nicholas, who, by the presence of the London managez with the precedent of Miss Squeers still increased a thousandfold. Everybody hap fresh in his memory steadily resisted every pened to know that the London manager fascination, and placed so strict a guard had come down specially to witness his or upon his behaviour that when he had taken her own performance, and all were in a his leave the ladies were unanimous in pro- flutter of anxiety and expectation. Some nouncing him quite a monster of insensi- of those who were not in the first scerw, bility. hurried to the wings, and there stretche, Next'day the posters appeared in due their necks to have a peep at him; others uourse, and the public were informed, in stole up into the two little private boxes all the colours of the rainbow, and in letters over the stage-doors, and from that position afflicted with every possible variation of reconnoitred the London manager. Once spinal deformity, how that Mr. Johnson the London manager was seen to smila NICHOLAS NICKLEB. 19a he smiled at the comic countryman's pre- we are going, and will return to you imme tending to catch a blue-bottle, while Mrs. diately." Cruinrnles was making her greatest effort. So saying, he took his hat, and hurrying "Very good, my fine fellow," said Mr. away to the lodgings of Mr. Crummles, ap Crummles, shaking his fist at the comic plied his hand to the knocker with such countryman when he came off, " you leave hearty good-will, that he awakened that this company next Saturday night." gentleman, who was still in bed, and caused: In the same way, everybody who was on iMr. Bulph the pilot to take his morning's the stage beheld no audience but one indi-pipe very nearly out of his mouth in th vidual; everybody played to the London extremity of his surprise. manager. When Mr. Lenville in a sud- The door being opened, Nicholas ran up den burst of passion called the emperor a stairs without any ceremony, and bursting miscreant, and then biting his glove, said, into the darkened sitting-room on the one "But I must dissemble," instea.d of look- pair front, found that the two Master Cruming gloomily at the boards and so waiting mleses had sprung out of the sofa-bedstead for his cue, as is proper in such cases, he and were putting on their clothes with great kept his eye fixed upbn the London mana- rapidity, under the impression that it was thpe ger. When Miss Bravassa sang her song middle of the night, and the next house was at her lover, who according to custom stood on fire. ready to shake hands with her between the Before he could undeceive them, Mr. verses, they looked, not at each other but Crummles came down in a flannel-gown at the London manager. Mr. Crummles and nightcap; and to him Nicholas briefly died point blank at him;* and when the two explained that circumstances had occurred guards came in to take the body off after a which rendered it necessary for him to re very hard death, it was seen to open its pair to London immediately. "1 So good bye," said Nicholas; "good eyes and glance at the London manager. So good bye," said icholas; At length the London manager was disco- bye, good bye." wered to be asleep, and shortly after that he He was half-way down stairs before Mr. woke up and went away, whereupon all the Crummles had sufficiently recovered his company fell foul of the unhappy comic surprise to gasp out something about the countryman, declaring that his buffoonery posters. was the sole cause; and Mr. Crummles - "I can't help it," replied Nicholas. "Set said, that he had put up with it a long time, whatever I may have earned this week but that he really couldn't stand it any against them, or if that will not repay yoN longer, and therefore would feel obliged by say at once what will. Quick, ck." his looking out for another engagement. We'11 cry quits about that," returned Crummles. "But can't we have one last All this was the occasion of much amusenigbht more.?" ment to Nicholas, whose only feeling upon "Not an hour-not a minute," replied the subject was one of sincere satisfaction Nicholas, impatiently. that the great man went away before he Won't you stop to say someting to appeared. He went through his part in Mrs. Crummles?" asked the manager, folthe two last pieces as briskly as he could, lowing him down to the door. and having been received with unbounded " I couldn't stop if it were to prolong my feavour and unprecedented applayse-so said life a score of years," rejoined Nicholas. the bills for next day, which had been print- "li Here, take my hand, and with it my hear ed an hour or two before- he took Smike's ty thanks.-Oh!' that I should have beei arm and walked home to bed. fooling here!" With the post next morning came a let- Accompanying these words with an imter from Newman Noggs, very inky, very patient stamp apon the ground, he' tore short, very dirty, very small, and very mys- himself from the manager's detaining grasp, terious, urging Nicholas to return to Lon- and darting rapidly down the street was out don instantly; not to lose an instant; to be of sight in an instant. there that night if possible. "Dear me, dear me," said Mr.'Crunn"I will," said Nicholas. "Heaven mles, looking wistfully towards the point knows I have remained here for the best, at which he had just disappeared; "if he alid sorely against my own will; but even only acted like that, what a deal of' money now I may have dallied too long. What he'd draw! lie should have kept upon can have happened? Smike, my good fel- this circuit; he'd have been very useful to low, here-take my purse. Put our things me. But he don't know what's gocn d fr together, and pay what little debts we owe him. He is an impetuous youth. Young -quick, and we shall be in time for the men are rash, very rash." _oruling coach. I will only tell them that Mr. Crummles being' in i moralizing 13 L200 N1:CH;OLAS- NICKLEBY. mood. might possibly have moralized for gling in the manager's arms, "what arl some minutes longer i;he had not mechani- you about?" ' not happy-that they fell into complicated After two or three tarns across the room distresses and difficulties —that she came, ne resumed his seat, and drawing his chair twelve months before her death, to appeal nearer to that on which Nicholas was to my old friendship; sadly changed, sadly seated, said - altered, broken-spirited from suffering and " I am about to employ you, my dear sir, ill-usage, and almost broken-hearted. He on a confidential and delicate mission." readily availed himself of the money which You might employ many a more able to give her but one hour's peace of mind, I messenger, sir," said Nicholas, " but a more would have poured out as freely as watertrustworthy or zealous one, I may be bold nay, he often sent her back for more-ant to say, you could not find." yet even while he squandered it, he made " Of that I am well assured," returned the very success of these, her applications brother Charles, " well assured You will to me, the ground-work of cruel taunts and give me credit for thinking so, when I tell jeers, protesting that he knew she thought you, that the object of this mission is a with bitter remorse of the choice she had young lady." made, that she had married him from m"A young lady, sir!" cried Nicholas, tives of interest and vanity, (he was a gay quite trembling for the moment with his young man with great friends about him eagerness to hear more. when she chose him for her husband,) and " A very beautiful young lady," said Mr. venting in short upon her, by every unjust Cheeryble, gravely. and unkind means, the bitterness of that "Pray go on, sir," returned Nicholas. ruin and disappointment which had been "I am thinking how to do so," said brought about by his profligacy alone. In brother Charles-sadly, as it seemed to his those times this young lady was a mere young friend, and with an expression allied child. I never saw her again until thai to pain. "You accidentally saw a young morning when you saw her also, but my lady in this room one morning, my dear nephew, Frank -.." sir, in a fainting fit. Do you remember? Nicholas started. and indistinctly apoloPerhaps you have forgotten —" gizing for the interruption, begged his pa"Oh no," replied Nicholas, hurriedly. tron to proceed. "1 —I-remember it very well indeed." "'My nephew, Frank, 1 say," resumed " She is the lady I speak of," said brother Mr. Cheeryble, " encountered her by acci Charles. Like the famous parrot, Nicholas dent, and lost sight of her almost in a thought a great deal, but was unable to minute afterwards, within two days aftei utter a word.. he returned to England. Her father lay in'' She is the daughter,' said Mr. Cheery- some secret place to avoid his creditcrs, NICHOLAS ANICKLEBY. 295 shduced, between sickness and poverty, to labouring in all these capacities and weary. the verge of death, and she, a child,-we ing in none, she had not succeeded in tlhe might almost think, if we did not know sole aim and object of ker i0fer bit tenat the wisdom of all Heaven's decrees-who overwhelmed by acc-uliulated difficultiee should have blessed a better' man, was and disappointments, she had been corm steadily braving privation, degradation, and pelled to seek out her mother's old friend, every thing most terrible to such a young and, with a bursting heart, to confide in and delicate creature's heart, for the pur- him at last. pose of supporting him. She was attended, "If I had been poor," said brothse sir," said brother Charles, "in these re- Charles, with sparkling eyes; "If I had verses, by one faithfill creature, who had been poor, Mr. Nickleby, my dear sir, i. hich been, in old times, a poor kitchen wench thank God I am not, I would have denied in the family, who was then their solitary myself- of course anybody would under servant, but who might have been, for the such circumstances —the commonest necestruth and fidelity of her heart-who might saries of life, th help her. As it is, the have been-ah! the wife of Tim Linkin- task is a difficult one. If her father were water himself, sir!" dead, nothing could be easier, for then she Pursuing this encomium upon the poor should share and cheer the happiest home follower with such energy and relish as no that brother Ned and I could have, as if words can describe, brother Charles leant she were our child or sister. But he is oack in his chair, and delivered the re- still alive. Nobody can help him —that mainder of his relation with greater com- has been tried a thousand times; he was posure. not abandoned by all without good cause, It was in substance this:-That proudly I know." resisting all offers of permanent aid and "Cannot she be persuaded to —" Ni. support from her late mother's friends, be- cholas hesitated when he had got thus far. cause they were made conditional upon her " To leave him?" said brothe-r Charles. quitting the wretched man, her father, who " Who could entreat a child to desert her had no friends left, and shrinking with in- parent? Such entreaties, limited to her stinctive delicacy from appealing in their seeing him occasionally, have been urged behalf to that true and noble heart which upon her - not by me —but always wita L.e hated, and had, through its greatest and the same result." purest goodness, deeply wronged by miscon. "Is he kind to her?" said Nichkols, struction and ill report, this young girl had "Does he requite her affection 3" struggled alone and unassisted to maintain " True kindness, considerate self-denyhim by the labour of her hands. That ing kindness, is not in his nature," return. through the utmost depths of poverty and ed Mr. Cheeryble. " Such kindiness as he affliction she had toiled, never turning aside knows, he regards her with, I believe. for an instant from her task, never wearied The mother was a gentle, loving, confiding by the petulant gloom of a sick man sus- creature, and although he wounded her Lained by no consoling recollections of the from their marriage till her death as cruel. past or hopes of the future; never repining ly and wantonly as ever man did, she never for the comforts she had rejected, or be- ceased to love him. She commended him wailing the hard lot she had voluntarily on her death-bed to her child's care. Her incurred. That every little accomplish- child has never forgotten it, and nevel ment she had acquired in happier days had will." been put into requisition for this purpose, "Have you no influence over him?' and directed to this one end. That for two asked Nicholas. long years, toiling by day and often too by "I, my dear sir! The last man in the night, working at the needle, the pencil, world. Such is his jealousy and hatred and the pen, and submitting, as a daily go- of me, that if he knew his dallghter had verness, to such caprices and indignities as opened her heart to me, he would rendtL women (with daughters too) too often love her life miserable with his reproaches; to inflict upon their own sex when they although- this is the inconsistency and serve in such capacities, as though in jea- selfishness of his character —although if lousy of their superior intelligence which he knew that every penny she had came they are necessitated to employ,-indigni- from me, he would not relinquish one perties, in ninety-nine cases out of every hun- sonal desire that the most reckless expendred, heaped upon persons immeasurably diture of her scanty st)ck could gratify." and incalculably their betters, but out- "An unnatural -co- adrel!" said NTicloweighing in comparison any that the most las, indignantly. neartless blackleg would put upon his "We will use rr. harsh terms." said gwrcm-that for two long years by dint of brother Charles, i- t gentle voice; " but 19 '36 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. accomr lodate ourselves to the circum- You do n't know what Tim is, Sir, when stances in which this young lady is placed. he is roused by anything that appeals to Suclh assistance as I have prevailed upon his feelings very strongly-then he is ter. her to accept, I have been obliged, at her'ific, Sir, is Tim Linkinwater-absolutely own earnest request, to dole out in the terrific. Now, in you we can repose tlWe smallest portions, lest he, finding how strictest confidence; in you we have seen easily money was procured, should squan- - or at least I have seen, and that's the der it even more lightly than he is accus- same thing, for there's no difference bt tomed to do. She has come to and fro, to tween me and my brother Ned, except that and fro, secretly and by night, to take even he is the finest creature that ever lived, this; and I cannot bear that things should and that there is not, and never will be, go on in this way, Mr. Nickleby-I really anybody like him in all the world-in you cannot bear it." we have seea domestic virtues and affec.Then it came out by little and little, tions, and delicacy of feeling, which exact. how that the twins had been revolving in ly qualify you for such an office. And you their good old heads manifold plans and are the man, Sir." schemes for helping this young lady in the "The young lady, Sir," said Nicholas, most delicate and considerate way, and so who felt so embarrassed that he had no that her father should not suspect the small difficulty in'saying anything at allsource whence the aid was derived; and "Does-is —is she a party to this innocent now they had at last come to the conclu- deceit?" sion, that the best course would be to make "Yes, yes," returned Mr. Cheervble; a feint of purchasing her little drawings "at least she knows you come from us; and ornamental work at a high price, and she does not know, however, but that we keeping up a constant demand for the shall dispose of these little productions that same. For the furtherance of which end you'11 purchase from time to time; and, and object it was necessary that somebody perhaps, if you did it very well (that is, should represent the dealer in such com- very well indeed,) perhaps she might be modities, and after great deliberation they brought to believe that we-that we made had pitched upon Nicholas to support this a profit of them. Eh'?-Eh?" character. In this guileless and most kind smi "He knows me," said brother Charles, plicity, brother Charles was so happy, and " and lie knows my brother Ned. Neither in this possibility of the young lady being of us would do. Frank is a very good fel- led to think that she was under no obliga low —a vmey fine fellow-but we are afraid tion to him, he evidently felt so sanguine that he might be a little flighty and and had so much delight, that Nicholas thoughtless in such a delicate matter, and would not breathe a doubt upon the sub. that he might, perhaps-that he might, in ject. short, be too susceptible (for she is a All this time, however, there hovered beautifdl creature, Sir; just what her poor upon the tip of his tongue a confession that mother was,) and falling in love with her the very same objections which Mr. Cheebefore he well knew his own mind, carry ryble had stated to the employment of his pain and sorrow into that innocent breast, nephew in this commission applied with at which we would be the humble instru- least equal force and validity to himself, ments of gradually making happy. He and a hundred times had he been upon the took an extraordinary interest in her for- point of avowing the real state of his feel. tunes when he first happened to encounter ings, and entreating to be released from it. her; and we gather frotn the inquiries we But as often, treading upon the heels of nave made of him, that it was she in whose this impulse, came another which urged Behalf he made that turmoil which led to him to refrain, and to keep his secret to four first acquaintance." his own breast. " Why should I," thought Nicholas stammered out that he had be- Nicholas, " why should I throw difficulties gore suspected the possibility of such a in the way of this benevolent and highthing; and in explanation of its having minded design? What if I do love and occurred to him, described when and where reverence this good and lovely creaturehe had seen the young lady himself. should I not appear a most arrogant and "Well; then you see," continued bro. shallow coxcomb if I gravely represented ther Charles, " that he would n't do. Tim that there was any danger of her falling in Linkinwater is out of the question; for love with me! Besides, have I no confiTim, Sir, is such a tremendous fellow, that dence in myself? Am I not now bound in ne could never contain himself, but would honour to repress these thoughts. Has go to loggerheads with the father before not this excellent man a right to my best had been in the place five minutes. and heartiest services, and should any con NICHOLAS NICKLEB~, 2.17 sderations uf self deter me from rendering i and blew it down the road. Opening the theln 3" i rickety gate which, dangling on its broken Asking himself such questions as these, I hinges before one of these, half admitted Nicholas mentally answered with great and half repulsed the visiter, Nicholas emphasis "No!" and persuading himself knocked at the street-door with a faltering that he was a most conscientious and glo- hand. rious martyr, nobly resolved to do what, if It was in truth a shabby house outside, he had examined his own heart a little with very dim parlour windows and very more carefully, he would have found, he small show of blinds, and very dirty muslin could not resist. Such is the sleight of curtains dangling across the lower panes hand by which we juggle with ourselves, on very loose and limp strings. Neither, and change our very weaknesses into when the door was opened, did the inside staunch and most magnanimous virtues! appear to belie the outward promise, as Mr. Cheeryble, being of course wholly there was faded carpeting on the stairs and unsuspicious that such reflections were pre- faded oil-cloth in the passage; in addition senting themselves to his young friend, to which discomforts a gentleman Ruler proceeded to give him the needful creden- was smoking hard in the front parlour tials and directions for his first visit, which (though it was not yet noon,) while the was to be made next morning; and all pre- lady of the house was busily engaged in liminaries being arranged, and the strictest turpentining the disjointed fragments of a secrecy enjoined, Nicholas walked home tent-bedstead at the door of the back-parfor the night very thoughtfully indeed. lour, as if in preparation for the reception The place to which Mr. Cheeryble had of some new lodger who had been fortunate,directed him was a row of mean and not enough to engage it. over-cleanly houses, situated within " the Nicholas had ample time to make these rules" of the King's Bench Prison, and not observations while the little boy, who went many hundred paces distant from the ob;e. on errands for the lodgers, clattered down lisk in Saint George's Fields. The Rules the kitchen stairs and was heard to scream, are a certain liberty adjoining the prison, as in some remote cellar, for Miss Bray's and comprising some dozen streets in which servant, who, presently appearing and redebtors who can raise money to pay large questing him to follow her, caused him to fees, from which their creditors do not de- evince greater symptoms of nervousness rive any benefit, are permitted to reside and disorder than so natural a consequence ny the wise provisions of the same enlight- of his having inquired for that young lady ened laws which leave the debtor who can would seem calculated to occasion. raise no money to starve in jail, without the Up-stairs he went, however, and into a food, clothing, lodging, or warmth, which front room he was shown, and there, seated are provided for felons convicted of the at a little table by the window, on which most atrocious crimes that can disgrace were drawing materials with which she humanity. There are many pleasant fic- was occupied, sat the beautiful girl who tions of the law in constant operation, but had so engrossed his thoughts, and who, there is not one so pleasant or practically surrounded by all the new and strong inhumorous as that which supposes every terest which Nicholas attached to her story, man to be of equal value in its impartial seemed now, in his eyes, a thousand times eye, and the benefits of all laws to be more beautiful than he had ever yet supequally attainable by all men, without the posed her..smallest reference to the furniture of their But how the graces and elegancies which poc-kets. she had dispersed about the poorly-furnished'To the row of houses indicated to him room, went to the heart of Nicholas! Flowby Mr. Charles Cheeryble, Nicholas di- ers, plants, birds, the harp, the old piano rected his steps, without much troubling whose notes had sounded so much sx#eeter his head with such matters as these; and in bygone times-how many struggles had at this row of houses-after traversing a it cost her to keep these two links of that very dirty and dusty suburb, of which mi- broken chain which bound her yet to home! nor theatricals, shell-fish, ginger-beer, With every slender ornament, the occupaspring vans, green-grocery, and brokers' tion of her leisure hours, replete with that shops, appeared to compQse the main and graceful charm which lingers in every little most prominent featuresl he at length ar- tasteful work of woman's hands, how mru;lih rived with a palpitating heart. There patient endurance and how many gentle were small gardens in front which, being affections were entwined! He felt as wholly neglected in all other respects, though the smile of Heaven were on the served as little pens for the dust to collect little chamber; as though the beautifal it, unti. the wind came round the corner devotion of so ye ung and weak a creature 298 NICHU LAS NICKLEBY. had shed a ray of its own on the inanimate "Here!" said Mr. Bray, putting ouL nms things around and made them beautiful as hand, and opening and shutting his bony itself; as though the halo with which old fingers with irritable impatience. "Let painters surround the bright angels of a mne see. What are you talking about, Mad sinless world played about a being akin in eline —you're sure-how can you be sure spirit to them, and its light were visibly of any such thing-five pounds-well, is before him. that right!" And yet Nicholas was in the rules of the "Quite," said Madeline, bending over King's Bench Prison! If he had been in him. She was so busily employed in ar Italy indeed, and the time had been sun- ranging the pillows that Nicholas could not set, and the scene a stately terrace;-but, see her face, but as she stooped he thought there is one broad sky over all the world, he saw a tear fall. and whether it be blue or cloudy, the same " Ring the bell, ring the bell," said the heaven beyond it, so, perhaps he had no sick man, with the same nervous eagerneed of compunction for thinking as he did. ness, and motioning towards it with such It is not to be supposed that he took in a quivering hand that the bank-note rustled everything at one glance, for he had as yet in the air. I' Tell her to get it changedbeen unconscious of the presence of a sick to get me a newspaper-to buy me some man propped up with pillows in an easy- grapes —another bottle of the wine that 1 chair, who, moving restlessly and impatient- had last week —and-and —I forget half 1 ly in his seat, attracted his attention, want just now, but she can go out again. He was scarce fifty, perhaps, but so ema- Let her get those first-those first. Now, eiated as to appear much older. His fea- Madeline my love, quick, quick! G-ood lures presented the remains of a handsome God, how slow you are!" countenance, but one in which the embers "He remembers nothing that she wants!" of strong and impetuous passions were thought Nicholas. Perhaps something of easier to.be traced than any expression what he thoulht was expressed in his counwhich would have rendered a far plainer tenance, for the sick man turning towards face much more prepossessing. His looks him with great asperity, demanded to know were very haggard, and his limbs and body if he waited for a receipt. literally worn to the bone, but there was "It is no matter at all," said Nicholas. something of the old fire in the large sunk- "No matter! what.do you mean, sir." en eye notwithstanding, and it seemed to was the tart'rejoinder. "'No matter! Do kindle afresh as he struck a thick stick, you think you bring your paltry money here with which he seemed to have supported as a favour or a gift; or as a matter of buhimself in his seat, impatiently on the floor siness, and in return for value received? twice or thrice, and called his daughter by D-n you, sir, because you can't appreci. her name. ate the time and taste which are bestowed "Madeline, who is this-what does any upon the goods you deal in, do you think body want here-who told a stranger we you give your money away? Do you know could be seen 3 What is it " that you are talking to a gentleman, sir, "I believe-." the young lady began, who at one time could have bought up fifty as she inclined her head with an air of such men as you and all you have. What some confusion, in reply to the salutation do you mean 3" of Nicholas. "I merely mean that as I shall have 4 You always believe," returned her fa- many dealings with this lady, if she will.her petulantly. "What is it 3" kindly allow me, I will not trouble her with By this time Nicholas had recovered suf- such forms," said Nicholas. fieient Presence of mind to speak for him- " Then I mean, if' you please, that we'11 self, so he said (as it had been agreed he have as many forms as we can," returned shoult say, that hi had called about a pair the father. ". My daughter, sir, requires of hand-screens, and some painted velvet no kindness from you or anybody else. Have for an ottoman, both of which were required the goodness to confine your dealings strict. to be of the most elegant design possible, ly to trade and business, and not to travel neither time nor expense being of the beyond'it. Every petty tradesmen is tobe. smallest consideration. He had also to pay gin to pity her now, is he? Upon my sou. for the two drawings, with many thanks, Very pretty. Mideline, my dear, give hinand, advancing to the little table, he laid 1 receipt; and hind you always do so." upon it a bank-note, folded in an envelope While she was feigning to write it, and and sealed. Nicholas was ruminating upon the extraor" See that the money is right, Madeline," dinary, but by no means uncommon characruld the father, " open the paper, my dear." ter thus presented to his observation, the " It's quite right, Dapa, I am sure." invalid, who appeared at times to suifel NICHOLAS NICKLEBI 299 great bodily pain, sank back in his chair him back or no. The best way of sett. ilg and moaned out a feeble complaint that the the question was to turn back at once, girl had been gone an hour, and that every- which Nicholas did. body conspired to goad him. " I don't know whether I do right in ask"When," said Nicholas, as he took the ing you, sir," said Madeline, hurriedly, piece of paper, " when shall I-call again?" "but pray-pray-do not mention to my This was addressed to the daughter, but poor mother's dear friends what has passed the father answered immediately- here to-day. He has suffered much, and "When you're requested to call, sir, and is worse this morning. I beg you, sir, as not before. Don't worry and persecute. a boon, a favour to myself." Madeline, my dear, when is this person to 1" You have but to hint a wish," returned call again?" Nicholas fervently, "and I would hazard " Oh, not for a long time-not for three my life to gratify it." or four weeks-it is not necessary, indeed " You speak hastily, sir." -I can do without," said the young lady, "Truly and sincerely," rejoined Nichowith great eagerness. las, his lips trembling as he formed the "Why, how are we to do without?" words, " if ever man spoke truly yet. 1 urged her father, not speaking above his am not skilled in disguising my feelings, breath. " Three or four weeks, Madeline! and if I were, I could not hide my heart Three or four weeks!" from you. Dear madam, as I know your " Then sooner-sooner, if you please," ~history, and feel as men and angeis must said the young lady, turning to Nicholas. who hear and see such things, I do entreat "' Three or four weeks!" muttered the you to believe that I would die to serve father. "Madeline, what on earth-do you." nothing for three or four weeks!" The young lady turned away her head, "It is a long time, ma'am," said Nicholas. and was plainly weeping. " You think so, do you." retorted the "Forgive me," said Nicholas, with re. father, angrily. "If I chose to beg, sir, spectful earnestness, " if I seem to say too and stoop to ask assistance from people I much, or to presume upon the confidence despise, three or four months would not be which has been intrusted to me. But I a long time-three or four years would not could not leave you as if my interest and be a long time. Understand, sir, that is if sympathy expired with the commission of I chose to be dependent; but as I don't, the day. I am your faithful servant, humyou may call in a week." bly devoted to you front this hour-devoted Nicholas bowed low to the young lady in strict truth and honour to him who sent and retired, pondering upon Mr. Bray's me here, and in pure integrity of heart, ideas of independence, and devoutly hoping and distant respect for you. If I meant that there might be few such independent more or less than this, I should be unworspirits as he mingling with the baser clay thy, his regard, and false to the very nature of humanity. that prompts the honest words I utter." Ile heard a light footstep above him as She waved her hand, entreating him to he descended the stairs, and looking round be gone, but answered not a word. Nichosaw that the young lady was standing las could say no more, and silently withthere, and glancing timidly towards him, drew. And thus ended his first interview seemed to hesitate whether she should call with Madeline Bray. CHAPTER XLVII. MfR. RALPH NICKLEBY HAS SOME CONFIDENTIAL INTERCOURSE WITH ANI OTHER OLD FRIEND. THEY CONCERT BETWEEN THEM A PROJECT, WHICH PROMISES WELL FOR BOTH. "THERE go the three quarters past!" I referred, as Newman's grumbling soliio. muttered Newman Noggs, listening to the quies usually did, to Ralph Nickleby. chimes of some neighbouring church, " and " I don't believe he ever had an appetite," my dinner time's two. He does it on pur- said Newman, "except for pounds, shilpose. lie makes a point of it. It's just lings, and pence, and with them he's as fike him." greedy as a wolf. I should like to tave It was in his own little den of an office him cohmpelled to swallow one of every and on the top of his official stool that New- English coin. The penny would be an an tllhus soliloquised; and the soliloquy awkward morsel —but the crown-ha iha'" 300 NICHOLAS NICKLEB1. His good humour being in some degree All places are alike to me, sir All. verj restored by the vision of Ralph Nickleby nice indeed. Oh! very nice " swallowing, perfwoce, a five-shilling-piece, The person who made this reply was a Newman slowly brought forth from his little old man, of about seventy or seventy desk one of those portable bottles, currently five years of age, of a very lean figure, known as pocket-pistols, and shakiing the much bent, and slightly twisted. He wore same close to his ear so as to produce a a great-coat with a very narrow collar, an rippling sound very cool and pleasant to old-fashioned waistcoat of ribbed black silk, listen to, suffered his features to relax, and and such scanty trowsers as displaved his took a gurgling drink, which relaxed them shrunken spindle-shanks in their full uglistill more. Replacing the cork he smacked ness. The only articles of display or ornahis lips twice or thrice with an air of great ment in his dress, were a steel watchrelish, and, the taste of the liquor having chain to which were attached sonim large by this time evaporated, recurred to his gold seals; and a black ribbon into which, grievances again. in compliance with an old fashion scarcely "Five minutes to three," growled New- ever observed in these days, his grey hair man, "it can't want more by this time; was gathered behind. His nose and chin and I had my breakfast at eight o'clock, were sharp and prominent, his jaws had and such a breakfast! and my right dinner fallen inwards from loss of teeth, his face time two! And I might have a nice little was shrivelled and yellow, save where the bit of hot roast meat spoiling at home all cheeks were streaked with the colour of a this time-how does he know I haven't! dry winter apple; and where his beard had' Don't go till I come back,'' Don't go till been, there lingered yet a few grey tufte I come back,' day after day. What do you which seemed, like the ragged eyebrows, always go out at my dinner time for then to denote the badness of the soil from which — eh? Don't you know it's nothing but they sprung. The whole air and attitude aggravation-eh." of the form, was onie of stealthy cat-like These words, though uttered in a very obsequiousness; the whole expression of.oud key, were addressed to nothing but the face was concentrated into a wrinkled empty air. The recital of his wrongs, leer, compounded of cunning, lecherousness, however, seemed to have the effect of ma. slyness, and avarice. king Newman Noggs desperate; for he Such was old Arthur Gride, in whose gfttened his old hat upon his head, and face there was not a wrinkle, in whose drawing on the everlasting gloves, declared dress there was not one spare fold or plait. with great vehemence, that come what but expressed the most covetous and gri..might, he would go to dinner that very ping penury, and sufficiently indicated his m'inute. belonging to that class of which Ralph Carrying this resolution into instant ef- Nickleby was a member. Sucl was old fect, he had advanced as far as the passage, Arthur Gride, as he sat in a low chair when the sound of the latch-key in the looking up into the face of Ralph Nickleby, street door caused him to make a precipi- who, lounging upon the tall office stool, tate retreat into his own office again. with his arms upon his knees, looked down "Here be is," growled Newman, " and into his, —a match for him on whatever somebody with him. Now it'll be'Stop errand he had come. till this gentleman's gone.' But I wont- "And how have you been?" said Gride, that's flat." feigning great interest in Ralph's state of So saying, Newman slipped into a tall health. "I haven't seen you for-oh! not empty closet which opened with two half for-" doors, and shut himself upi intending to "Not for a long time," said Ralph, with slip out directly after Ralph was safe inside a peculiar smile, importing that he very of his own room. well knew it was not on a mere visit of "Noggs,' cried Ralph, "where is that compliment that his friend had come. " It fellow —Noggs." was a narrow chance that you saw me But not a word said Newman. now, for I had only just come up to the "The dog has gone to his dinner, though door as you turned the corner." I told him not," muttered Ralph, looking "I am very lucky," observed Gride. into the office and pulling out his watch. "So men say," replied Ralph, drily. " Humph! You had better come in here, The older money-lender wagged his chin Gride. My man's out, and the sun is hot and smiled, but he originated no new re rpon my room. This is cool and' in the mark, and they sat for some little time shade, if you don't mind roughing it." without speaking. Each was looking out'Not at all, Mr. Nickleby, oh not at all. to take the other at a disadvantage. NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 301 "s Come, Grile," said Ralph, at length;' again raised his hands, again ( at ckled, and what's in the wind to-day." again ejaculated, " What a man it is!" "Aha! you're a bold man, Mr. Nickleby," which done, he dragged the low chair a cried the other, apparently very much re- little nearer to Ralph's high stool, and lieved by Ralph's leading the way to busi- looking upwards into his immovable face, ness. "1 Oh dear, dear, what a bold man said, you are." "What would you say to me,;f I was to s "Why, you have a sleek and slinking tell you that I was-that I was- -going to way with you that makes me seem so by be married?" contrast," returned Ralph. " I don't know " I should tell you," replied Ralph, look. but that -"ours may answer better, but I ing coldly down upon him, " that for some want the patience for it." purpose of your own you told a lie, and that "You were born a genius, Mr. Nickle- it wasn't the first time, and wouldn't be the by," 3aid old Arthur. "Deep, deep, deep. last; that I wasn't surprised, and wasn't to Al r' be taken in." "Deep enough," retorted Ralph, "to "Then I tell you seriously that I am," know that I shall need all the depth I have, said old Arthur. when men like you begin to compliment. "And I tell you seriously," rejoined You know I have stood by when you fawned Ralph, " what I told you this minute. Stay. and flattered other people, and I remember Let me look at you. There's a liquorish pretty well what that always led to." devilry in your face? what is this 3" "Ha, ha, ha," rejoined Arthur, rubbing "I wouldn't deceive you, you know," his hands. "So you do, so you do, no whined Arthur Gride; "I couldn't do it, i doubt. Not a man knows it better. Well, should be mad to try. I —I-to deceive it's a pleasant thing now to think that you Mr. Nickleby! The pigmy to impose upon remember old times. Oh dear!" the giant. I ask again - he, he, he!"Now then," said Ralph, composedly; what should you say to me if I was to tell "what's in the wind, I ask again-what is you that I was going to be married 3" it?". "To some old hag?" said Ralph. "See that now!" cried the other. "He "No, no," cried Arthur, interrupting can't even keep from business while we're him, and rubbing his hands in an ecstasy. chatting over bygones! Oh dear, dear, "Wrong, wrong again. Mr. Nickleby for *hat a man it is!" once at fault-out, quite out! To a young "Which of the byegones do you want to and beautiful girl; fresh, lovely, bewitchrevive t" said Ralph. h"One of them, I ing, and not nineteen. Dark eyes-long inow, or you wouldn't talk about them." eyelashes-ripe and ruddy lips that to look,"He suspects even me!" cried old at isto long to kiss-beautiful clustering Arthur, holding up his hands. "Even me hair that one's fingers itch to play with-oh dear, eves me What a man it is! such a waist as might make a man clasp Ha, ha, ha; What a man it is! Mr. toe air involuntarily, thinking of twining Nickleby against all the world-there's his arm about it-little feet that tread so nobody like him. A giant among pigmies lightly they hardly seem to walk upon the -a giant-a giant!" ground-to marry all this, sir,-this-hey, Ralph looked at the old dog with a hey!" quiet smile as he chuckled on in this strain, " This is something more than common and Newman Noggs in the closet felt his drivelling," said Ralph, after listening with heart sink within him as the prospect of a curled lip to the old sinner's raptures. dinner grew fainter and fainter. "The girl's name?" "I must humour him though," cried old "Oh, deep, deep! See now how deep Arthur; "he must have his way-a wilful, that is!" exclaimed old Arthur. "He man, as the Scotch say-well, well, they're knows I want his help, he knows he can a wise people, the Scotch-he will talk give it me, he knows it must all turn to his about business, and won't give away his advantage, he sees the thing already. HIer time for nothin'g. He's very right. Time name-is there nobody within hearing'." is money-time is money." "Why, who the devil should there be!" "4 He was one of us who made that say- retorted Ralph, testily. ing, I should think," said Ralph. " Time is " I didn't know but that perhaps some. money, and very good.money too, to those body might be passing up or down the who reckon interest by it. Timeis money! stairs," said Arthur Gride, after looking Yes, and time costs money-it's rather an out at the door and carefully re-closing it; expensive article to some people we could "or but that your man might have come name, or I forget my trade." back and might have been listening outside In rejcinder to this sally, old Arthur -clerks and servants have a trick of listen. ,o,02 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. ing, and I should have been very uncom- and clustering hair that: he wants to p,ay fortable if Mr. Noggs-" with, and waists that he wants to span, and " Curse Mr. Noggs," said Ralph, sharply, little feet that don't tread upon anything" and go on with what you have to say." old Arthur Gride and such things as these "Curse Mr. Noggs, by all means," re- is more monstrous still; but old Arthur joined old Arthur; " I am sure I have not Gride marrying the daughter of a ruined the least objection to that. Her name is-"' dashing man' in the rules of the Bench,' Well," said Ralph, rendered very irri- is the most monstrous and incredible of all. table by old Arthur's pausing again, " what Plainly, friend Arthur Gride, if you want is it." any help from me in this business (which " Madeline Bray." of course you do, or you would not be here,) Whatever reasons there might have been speak out, and to the purpose. And, above — _nd ArthurGride appeared to have anti- all, don't talk to me of its turning, to my cipated some-for the mention of this name advantage, for I know it must turn to yours producing an effect upon Ralph, or what- also, and to a good round tune too, or you ever effect it really did produce upon him, would have no finger in such a pie as he permitted none to manifest itself, but this." calmly repeated the name several times, There was enough acerbity and sarcasm as if reflecting when and where he had not only in the -matter of Ralph's speech. heard it before. but in the tone of voice in which he uttered "Bray," said Ralph. "Bray - there it, and the looks with which he eked it out, was young Bray of-no, he never had a to have fired even the ancient usurer's cold daughter." blood and flushed even his withered cheek., "You remember Bray!" rejoined Arthur But he gave vent to no demonstration of Gride. anger, contenting himself with exclaiming " No," said Ralph, looking vacantly at as before, "What a man it is!" and rolling him. his head from side to side, as if in unreNot Walter Bray! The dashing man, strained enjoyment of his freedom and who used his handsome wife so ill 3" drollery. Clearly observing, however, frtom "If you seek to recal any particular the expression in Ralph's features, that he dashing man to my recollection by such a had best come to the point as speedily as trait as that," said Ralph, shrugging his might be, he composed himself for more shoulders, " I shall confound him with nine- serious business, and entered upon the pith tenths of the dashing men I have ever and marrow of his negotiation. known." First. he dwelt upon the fact that Made. "Tut, tut. That Bray who is now ir line Bray was devoted to the support and the rules of the Bench," said old Arthur. maintenance, and was a slave to every 1" You can't have forgotten Bray. Both of wish, of her only parent, who had no other us did business with him. Why, he owes friend on earth; to which Ralph rejoined you money-" that he had heard something of the kind " Oh, him!" rejoined Ralph. " Ay, ay. before, and that if she had known a little Now you speak. Oh! It's his daughter, more of the world, she would n't have been is it!" such a fool. Naturally as this was said, it was not Secondly, he enlarged upon the characsaid so naturally but that a kindred spirit ter of her father, arguing, that even taking like old Arthur Gride might have discerned it for granted that he loved her in return a design upon the part of Ralph to lead him with the utmost affection of which he was on to much more explicit statements and capable, yet he loved himself a great deal explanations than he would have volun- better; which Ralph said it was quite unteered, or than Ralph could in all likeli- necessary to say anything more about, as hood have obtained by any other means. that was very natural, and probable enough. Old Arthur, however, was so intent upon And, thirdly, old Arthur premised that his own designs, that he suffered himself the girl was a delicate and beautiful crea. to be over-reached, and had no suspicion ture, and that he had really a hankering to but that his good friend was in earnest. have her for his wife. To this Ralph " I knew you couldn't forget him, when deigned no other rejoinder than a harsh you came to think for a moment," he 1 smile, and a glance at the shrivelled old said. creature before him, which were, hcwever, "'You were right," answered Ralph. sufficiently expressive. "But old Arthur Gride and matrimony is a s "Now," said Gride, " for the little plan most anomalous conjunction of words; old I have in my mind to bring this about Artlhur tIride and dark eyes and eyelashes, because, I have n't offered myself even to ~nd lips that to look at is to long to kiss, the father yet, I should have told you. But NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 3(13 that you have gat.hered already Ah! oh I Arthur Gride in a week, a month, a day-. dear, oh dear, what an e-ged-tool you any time I chose to name 3" are!" " Go on," said Ralph, nodding his head "Do n't play with me then," said Ralph, deliberately, and speaking in a tone whose impatiently. "' You know the proverb." studied coldness presented a strange:on"A reply always, on the tip of' his trast to the rapturous squeak to which his torigue!" cried old Arthur, raising his friend had gradually mounted. "Go on hands and eyes in admiration. " He is al- You did n't come here to ask me that." ways prepared! Oh dear, what a blessing "Oh dear, how you talk!" cried old to have such a ready wit, and so much Arthur, edging himself closer still to ready money to back it!" Then, sudden- Ralph. "Of course, I did n't-I don't ly changing his tone, he went on: -"I I pretend I did! I came to ask what you i:ave been backwards and forwards to would take from me, if I prospered with Bray's lodgings several times within the the father, for this debt of yours - five last six months. It is just half a year shillings in the pound -six and eightpence since I first saw this delicate morsel, and, -ten shillings 3 I would go as far as ten oh dear, what a delicate morsel it is! But for such a friend as you, we have always that is neither here nor there. I am his been on such good terms, but you won't be detaining creditor for seventeen hundred so hard upon me as that, I know. Now, pounds." will you?" "You talk as if you were the only de- 6" There's something more to be told," taining creditor," said Ralph, pulling out said Ralph, as stony and immovable as ever. his pocket-book. "I am another for nine. "Yes, yes, there is, but you won't give hundred and seventy-five pounds, four and me time," returned Arthur Gride. "I threepence." want a backer in this matter-one who can "The only other, Mr. Nickleby," said talk, and urge, and press a point, which old Arthur, eagerly. "The only other. you can do as no man can. I can't do that, Nobody else went to the expense of lodg- for I am a poor, timid, nervous creature. ing a detainer, trusting to our holding him Now, if you get a good composition for this fast enough, 1 warrant you. We both fell debt, which you long ago gave up fbr lost, into the same snare —oh, dear, what a pit- you'll stand my friend, and help me. fall it was; it almost ruined me! And Won't you!" lent him our money upon bills, with only " There's something more," said Ralph. one name besides his own, which to be "No, no, indeed," cried Arthur Gride. sure everybody supposed to be a good one, " Yes, yes, indeed. I tell you yes," said and was as negotiable as money, but which Ralph. turned out —you know how. Just as we "Oh!" returned old Arthur, feigning to should have come upon him, he died insol- be suddenly enlightened. "You mean vent. Ah! it went very nigh to ruin me, something more, as concerns myself and that loss did!" thy intention. Ay, surely, surely. Shall " Go on with your scheme," said Ralph. I mention that?"'It's of no use raising the cry of our trade "I think you had better," rejoined Ralph, lust now; there's nobody to hear us." drily. "It's always as well to talk that way," "I did n't like to trouble you with that, returned old Arthur, with a chuckle, because I supposed your interest would " whether there's anybody to hear us or cease with your own concern in the affair," not. Practice makes perfect, you know. said Arthur Gride. "That's kind of you Now, if I offer myself to Bray as his son- to ask. Oh dear, how very kind of you! in-law, upon one simple condition that the Why, supposing I had a knowledge of sonle moment I am fast married he shall be property-some little property-very little quietly released, and have an allowance to -to which this pretty chick was entitled; live just t'other side the water like a gen- which nobody does or can know of at this tleman (he can't live long, for I have ask- time, but which her husband could sweep ed his doctor, and he declares that his into his pouch, if he knew as much as I do, complaint is one of the heart and it is irm- would that account for-" possible,) and if all the advantages of this "For the whole proceeding," rejoined condition are properly stated and dwelt Ralph, abruptly. "Now, let me turn this upon to him, do you think he could resist matter over, and consider what I ought to met And if he could not resist me, do have if I should help you to success." )u think his daughter could resist him? "But don't be hard," cried old Arthur, bhouldn't I have her Mrs. Arthur Gride- raising his hands with an imploring ges pretty Mrs. Arthur Gride — a tit-bit —a ture, and speaking in a tremulous voice. dainty chick —shouldn't I have her Mrs. " Don't be too hard upon me. It;s a very 301 NICIIOLAS NICKLEB'. small property, it is indeed. Say the ten In pursuance of this last understanding shillings, and we'll close the bargain. the worthy gentlemen went out together It s more than I ought to give, but you're shortly afterwards, and Newman Nogga so kind - shall we say the ten 1 Do now, emerged, bottle in hand, firom the cupboard, do." out of the upper door of which, at the inmRalph took no notice of these supplica- minent risk of detection, he had more than tions, but sat for three or four minutes in a once thrust his red nose when such parts brown study, looking thoughtfully at the of the subject were under discussion as person firom whom they proceeded. After i interested him most. sufficient cogitation he broke silence, and "I have no appetite now," said Newit certainly could not be objected that he man, putting the flask in his pocket. "I'ye used any needless circumlocution, or failed had my dinner." to speak directly to the purpose. Having delivered this observation in a' "If you married this girl without me," very grievous and doleful tone, Newman said Ralph, "you must pay my debt in full, reached the door in one long limp, and because you could n't set her father free came back again in another. otherwise. It's plain, then, that I must "I don't know who she may )e, or what have the whole amount, clear of all deduc- she may be," he said; " but I pity her with tion or incumbrance, or I should lose from all my heart and soul; and I can't help being honoured with your confidence, in- her, nor can I any of the people against stead of gaining by it. That's the first whom a hundred tricks-but none so vile article of the treaty. For the second, I as this-are plotted every day! Well, that shall stipulate that for my trouble in nego- adds to my pain, but not to theirs. The tiation and persuasion, and helping you to thing is no worse because I know it, and it this fortune, I have five hundred pounds- tortures me as well as them. Gride and that's very little, because you have the Nickleby! Good pair for a curricle-ob ripe lips, and the clustering hair, and what roguery! roguery! roguery!" not, all to yourself. For the third and last With these reflections, and a very hard article, I require that you execute a bond knock on the crown of his unfortunate hat, to me, this day, binding' yourself in the at each repetition of the last word, New. payment of these two sums, before noon man Noggsiwhose brain was a little mudof the day of your marriage with Made- died by so much of the contents of the line Bray. You have told me I can urge pocket-pistol as had found their way there and press a point. I press this one, and during his recent concealment, went forth will take nothing less than these terms. to seek such consolation as might be deAccept them if you like. If not, marry rivable from the beef and greens of some her without me if you can. I shall still cheap eating-house. get my debt." Meanwhile the two plotters had betaken To all entreaties, protestations, and of- themselves to the same house whither Ni. fers of compromise between his own pro- cholas had repaired for the first time but a posals and those which Arthur Gride had few mornings before, and having obtained first suggested, Ralph was deaf as an ad- access to Mr. Bray, and found his daughter der. He would enter into no further dis- from home, had, by a train of the most cussion of the subject, and while old Arthur masterly approaches that Ralph's utmost dilated'upon the enormity of his demands skill could frame, at length laid open the and proposed modifications of them, ap- real object of their visit. proaching by degrees nearer and nearer to " There he sits, AMr. Bray," said Ralph, the terms he resisted, sat perfectly mute, as the invalid, not yet recovered from his looking with an air of quiet abstraction surprise, reclined in his chair, looking alover the entries and papers in his pocket- ternately at him and Arthur Gride. "What book. Finding that it was impossible to if he has had the ill fortune to be one cause make any impression upon his stanch friend, of your detention in this place-I have Arthur Gride, who had prepared himself been another; men must live; you are too for some such result before he' came, con- much a man of the world not to see that in sented with a heavy heart to the proposed its true light. We offer the best reparatreaty, and upon the spot filled up the bond tion in our power. Reparatin! Here is required (Ralph kept such instruments an offer of marriage, that many a titled fahandy), after exacting the condition that ther would leap at for his child. AMr. ArMr. Nickleby should accompany him to thur Gride, with the fortt.le of a prince. Bray's lodgings that very hour, and open Think what a haul it is!" the negotiation at once, should circum- "My daughter, sir," returned Bray, stances appear auspicious and favourable haughtily, " as I have brought her up, so their designs would be a rich recompense for the largest NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 305 fortune that a man could bestow in ex- when I carried every point in triumph change for her hand." against her mothur's whole family, al"Precisely what I told you," said the'hough they had power and wealth on their artful Ralph, turning to his friend, old Ar- side-by my will alone." thur. " Precisely what made me consider " Still," rejoined Ralph, as mildly-as his the thing so fair and easy. There is no nature would allow him, "you have not obligation on either side. You have money, heard me out. You are a man yet qualified and Miss Madeline has beauty and worth. to shine in society, with many years of life She has youth, you have money. She has before you-that is, if you lived in freer not money, you have not youth. Tit for air, and under brighter skies, and chose tat —quits-a match of Heaven's own ma- your own companions. Gaiety is your king! - element, you have shone in it before. "Matches are made in Heaven, they Fashion and freedom for you. France, and say," added Arthur Gride, leering hide- an annuity that would support you there ously at the father-in-law he wanted. " If in luxury, would give you a new lease of we are married, it will be destiny, accord- life-transfer to you a new existence. The ing to that." town rang with your expensive pleasures "Then think, Mr. Bray," said Ralph, once, and you could blaze upon a new hastily substituting for this argument con- scene again, profiting by experience, and siderations more nearly allied to earth, living a little at other's cost, instead of let"Think what a stake is involved in the ting others live at yours. What is there on acceptance or rejection of these proposals the reverse side of the picture? What of my friend —" is there? I don't know which is the near"IHow can I accept or reject?" inter- est church-yard, but a gravestone there, rupted Mr. Bray, with an irritable con- wherever it is, and a date-perhaps twc sciousness that it really rested with him to years hence, perhaps twenty. That's all." decide. " It is for my'daughter to accept Mr. Bray rested his elbow on the arm or reject; it is for my daughter. You of his chair, and shaded his face with his know that." hand. "True," said Ralph, emphatically; "but "I speak plainly," said Ralph, sitting you have still the power to advise; to state down beside him, " because I feel strongly. the reasons for and against; to hint a wish." It's my interest that you should marry "To hint a wish, sir!" returned the your daughter to my friend Gride, because debtor, proud and mean by turns, and self- then he sees me paid-in part, that is. i ish at all times. "I am her father, am I don't disguise it. I acknowledge it openly. not? Why should I hint, and beat about But what interest have you in recommend. tile bush? Do you suppose, like her mo- ing her to such a step? Keep that in view. ther's friends and my enemies-a curse She might object, remonstrate, shed tears, upon them all-that there is anything in talk of his being too old, and plead that what she has done for me but duty, sir, but | her life would be rendered miserable. Bdt duty? Or do you think that my having what is it now?" been unfortunate is a sufficient reason why Several slight gestures on the part of our relative positions should be changed, the invalid, showed that these arguments and that she should command and I should were no more lost upon him, than the obey? Hint a wish, too! Perhaps you smallest iota of his demeanour was upon think because you see me in this place and Ralph. scarcely able to leave this chair without "What is it now, I say," pursued the assistance, that I am some broken-spirited wily usurer, "or what has it a chance of dependent. creature, without the courage being? If you died, indeed, the people or power to do what I may think best for you hate would make her happy. But can my own child. Still the power to hint a you bear the thought of that? wish! I hope so!" "No!" returned Bray, urged by a vin. " Pardon me," -returned Ralph, who dictive impulse he could not repress. thoroughly knew his man, and had taken "I should imagine not, indeed -!" said his ground accordingly; "you do not hear Ralph, quietly. "If she profits by any. me out. I was about to say, that your body's death," this was said in a lower hinting a wish-even hinting a wish- tone, "let it be by her husband's-don't would surely be equivalent to command- let her have to look back to yours, as the ing." event from which to date a happier life. "Why, of course it would," retorted Where is the objection? Let me hear it Mr. Bray, in an exasperated tone. "If stated. What is it? That her suitor is you don't happen to have heard of'the an old man. Why, how often do men of Aine, sir, I tell you that there was a time, fahaily and fortune, who haven't your ex t306 NICHOLAS NICK LEBY. cuse, but hlave all the mean:s and superflu- "I am not, indeed." ities of life within their reach-how often "Indeed you are. You do too Inuch." nl they marry their daughters to old men, "I wish I could do more." or (worse stil) to young men without "I know you do, but you over-task youw heads or hearts, to tickle some idle vanity, strength. This wretched life, my love, of strengthen some family interest, or secure daily labour and fatigue, is more than you some seat in parliament! Judge for her, can bear, I am sure. it is. Poor Madeline!" sir, judge for her. You must know best, With these and many more kind wort.s and she will live to thank you." Mr. Bray drew his daughter to him and " Hush! hush!" cried Mr. Bray, sudden- kissed her cheek affectionately. Ralph, ly starting up, and covering Ralph's mouth watching him sharply and closely in the with his trembling hand. "I hear her mean time, made his way towards the door, at the door!" and signed to Gride to follow him. There was a gleam of conscience in the "You will communicate with us again "' shame and terror of this hasty action, said Ralph. which, in one short moment, tore the thin "Yes, yes," returned Mr. Bray, hastily covering of sophistry from the cruel de- thrusting his daughter aside. " In a week. sign, and laid it bare in all its meanness Give me a week." and heartless deformity. The father fell "One week," said Ralph, turning to his into his chair pale and trembling; Arthur companion, "from to-day. Good morning. Gride plucked and fumbled at his hat, and Miss Madeline, I kiss your hand." durst not raise his eyes from the floor; "We will shake hands, Gride," said Mr. even Ralph crouched for the moment like Bray, extending his, as old Arthur bowed. a beaten hound, cowed by the presence of "You mean well; no doubt. I am bound one young innocent girl! to say so now. If I owed you money, that The effect was almost as brief as sudden. was not your fault. Madeline, my loveRalph was the first to recover himself, and your hand here." observing Madeline's looks of alarm, en- "Oh dear! If the young lady would treated the.poor girl to be composed, as- condescend-only the tips of her fingers" suring her that there was no cause for fear. — said Arthur, hesitating and half retreat"A sudden spasm," said Ralph, glancing ing. at Mr. Bray. "He is quite well now." Madeline shrunk involuntarily from the It might have moved a very hard and goblin figure, but she placed the tips of her worldly heart to see the young and beauti- fingers in his hand and instantly withdrew fil creature, whose certain misery they them. After an ineffectual clutch, intenahad been contriving, but a minute before, ed to detain and carry them to his lips, old throw her arms about her father's neck, Arthur gave his own fingers a mumbling and pour forth words of tender sympathy kiss, and with many amorous distortions of and love, the sweetest a father's ear can visage went in pursuit of his friend, who know, or child's lips form. But Ralph was by this time in the street. looked coldly on; and Arthur Gride, whose " What does he say, what does he saybleared eyes gloated only over the outward what does the giant say to the pigmy 1" inbeauties, and were blind to the spirit which quired Arthur Gride, hobbling up to Ralph. reigned within, evinced-a fantastic kind " What does the pigmy say to the giant?" of warmth certainly, but not exactly that rejoined Ralph, elevating his eyebrows and kind of warmth of feeling which the con- looking down upon his questioner. templation of virtue usually inspires. "He doesn't know what to say," replied " Madeline," said her father, gently dis- Arthur Gride. "lie hopes and fears. But engaging himself, "it was nothing." is she not a dainty morsel?" "But you had that spasm yesterday, and "I have no great taste for beauty," growl. it is terrible to see you in such pain. Can ed Ralph. I do nothing for you." "But I have," rejoined Arthur, rubbing "Nothing just now. Here are two gen- his hands. 1" Oh dear! How handsome her tlemen, Madeline, one of whom you have! eyes looked when she was stooping over seen before. She used to say," added Mr. him - such long lashes - such delicate Brayv, addressing Arthur Gride, " that the fringe! She — she - looked at me so sight of you always made me worse. That f soft." was natural, knowing what she did, and "Not over-lovingly, I think?" said Ralph. only what she did, of our connexion and "Did she 3" its results. Well, well. Perhaps she may " No you think not?" replied old Arthur. change ker mind on that point; girls have "But don't you think it can be brought leave to change their minds, you know. about-don't you think it can 3" You are very tired., my dear" Ralph looked at him w ith a contemptu. NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. -oUJ ous frown, and replied with a sneer, and "I am sure it's df ae," said Ralplt. " He between his teeth — is trying to deceive himself, even before "Did you mark his telling her she was our eyes, already-making believe that he tired and did too much, and over-tasked her thinks of her good and not his own-acting strength 1" a virtuous part, and so considerate and af" Ay, ay. What of it s" fectionate, sir, that the daughter scarcely "- Whlen do you think he ever told her knew him. I saw a tear of surprise in her that before. The life is more than she eye. There'll be a few more tears of surprise canbear. Yes,yes. He'llchange itforher." there before long, though of a different "D'ye think it's done?" inquired old -kind. Oh! we may wait with confidence Arthur, peering into his companion's face for this day week." with half-closed eyes. CHAPTER XLVIII. BEING FOR THE BENEFIT OF MR. VINCENT CRUMMLES, AND POSITIVELY H[S LAST APPEARANCE ON THIS STAGE. IT was with a very sad and heavy heart, Still, there were the secret feelings in exoppressed by many painful ideas, that Ni- istence just the same, and in secret Nicho.:holas retraced his steps eastward and be- las rather encouraged them than otherwise: took himself to the counting-house of Chee- reasoning (if he reasoned at all) that there ryble Brothers. Whatever the idle hopes they could do no harm to anybody but himsel; he had suffered himself to entertain, what- and that if he kept them to himself from a ever the pleasant visions which had sprung sense of duty, he had an additional right to up in his mind and grouped themselves entertain himself with them as a reward round the fair image of Madeline Bray, for his heroism. they were now dispelled, and not a vestige All these thoughts, coupled with what of their gaiety and brightness remained. he had seen that morning and the anlicipaIt would be a poor compliment to Nicho- tion of his next visit, rendered him a very 1las's better nature, and one which he was dull and abstracted companion; so much very far from deserving, to insinuate that so, indeed, that Tim Linkinwater suspected the solution, and such a solution, of the he must have made the mistake of a figure mystery which had seemed to surround somewhere, which was preying upon his Madeline Bray, when he was ignorant even mind, and seriously conjured him, if such of her name, had damped his ardour or were the case, to make a clean breast and cooled the fervour of his admiration. If he scratch it out, rather than have his whole had regarded her before, with such a pas- life embittered by the tortures of remorse. sion as young men attracted by mere beau- But in reply to these considerate repre. ty and elegance may entertain, he was now sentations, and many others both from Tim conscious of much deeper and stronger feel- and Mr. Frank, Nicholas could only be ings. But, reverence for the truth and pu- brought to state that he was never merrier rity of her heart, respect for the helpless- in his life; and so went on all day, and so ness and loneliness of her situation, sympa- went towards home at night, still turning thy with the trials of one so young and fair, over and over again the same subjects, and admiration of her great and noble spirit, thinking over and over again the same all seemed to raise her far above his reach, | things, and arriving over and over again at and, while they imparted new depth and the same conclusions. dignity to his love, to whisper that it was In this pensive, wayward, and uncertain hopeless. state, people are apt to lounge and ]loiteT "I will keep my word, as I have pled ged without knowing why, to read placards o01 it to her," said Nicholas, manfully. 1" This i the walls with a great attention and withis no common trust that I have to-discharge, out the smallest idea of one word of their and I will perform the double duty that is contents, and to stare most earnestly through imposed upon me most scrupulously and shop-windows at things which they don't strictly. My secret feelings deserve no see. It was thus that Nicholas found hilr consideration in such a case as this, and: self porinff with the utmost interest over a hey shall have none." | large play-bill hranzin? outside a Mineo 308. NICHOLAS NICKLEB Y. Theatre which he had to pass on his wavy would do Mrs. Crummles's heart goo te home, and reading a list of the actors and bid him good-bye before they went. actresses who had promised to do honour to "You were always a favourite of hers, some approaching benefit, with as much Johnson," said Crummles, "always were gravity as if it had been a catalogue of the from the first. I was quite easy in my names of those ladies and gentlemen who mind about you from that first day you dined stood highest upon the Book of Fate, and he with us. One that Mrs. Crummles took s had been looking anxiously for his own. fancy to, was sure to turn out rioht. Ah!l He glanced at the top of the bill with a Johnson, what a woman that is!" smile at his own dulness, as he prepared to "I am sincerely obliged to her for hel resume his walk, and there saw announced, kindness in this and all other respects," in large letters with a large space between said Nicholas. "But where are you going, each of them, " Positively the last appear- that you talk about bidding good-bye 3" ance of Mr. Vincent Crummles of Provin- "HIaven't you seen it in the papers?"' cial Celebrity!!" said Crummles with some dignity. "Nonsense!" said Nichlas, turning back "' No," replied Nicholas. again. "It can't be." "I wonder at that," said the manager. But there it was. In one line by itself "It was among the varieties. I had the was an announcement of the first night of paragraph here somewhere-but I don't a new melo-drama; in another line by itself know-oh, yes, here it is." was an announcement of the last six nights So saying, Mr. Crummles, after pretend. of an old one; a third line was devoted tc ing that he thought he must have lost it, the re-engagement of the unrivalled African produced a square inch of newspaper from Knife-swallower, who had kindly suffered the pocket of the pantaloons he wore in himself to be prevailed upon to forego his private life (which, together with the plain countryengagements for one week longer; clothes of several other gentlemen, lay a fourth line announced that Mr. Snittle scattered about on a kind of dresser in the Timberry, having recovered from his late room,) and gave it to Nicholas to read:severe indisposition, would have the honour "The talented Vincent Crunmmles, lonp of appearing that evening; a fifth line said favourably known to fame as a countr) that there were "Cheers, Tears, and manager and actor of no ordinary preten Laughter!" every night; a sixth, that that sions, is about to cross the Atlantic on X was positively the last appearance of Mr. histrionic expedition. Crummles is to be Vincent Crummles of Provincial Celebrity. accompanied, we hear, by his lady and " Surely it must be the same man," gifted family. We know no man superior thought Nicholas. " There can't be two to Crummles in his particular line of cha Vincent Crummleses." racter, or one who, whether as a public or The better to settle this question he re- private individual, could carry with him the ferred to the bill again, and finding that best wishes of a larger circle of friends there was a Baron in the first piece, and Crummles is certain to succeed." that Roberto (his son) was enacted by one "Here's another bit," said Mr. CrumMaster Crummles, and Spaletro (his ne- mles, handing over a still smaller scrap. phew) by one Master Percy Crummles —- "This is from the notices to correspond. their last appearances —and that, inciden- ents, this one." tal to the piece, was a characteristic dance Nicholas read it aloud. "' Philo Draby the characters, and a castinet pas seul maticus. —Crummles, the country manager by the Infant Phenomenon-her last ap- and actor, cannot be more than forty-three, pearance —he no longer entertained any or forty-four years of age. Crummles is doubt; and presenting himself at the stage NOT a Prussian, having been born at Cheldoor, and sending in a scrap of paper with sea.' Humph!" said Nicholas, "that'- an'Mr. Johnson" written thereon in pencil, odd paragraph." rwas presently conducted by a Robber, with "Very," returned Crummles, scratching a very large belt and buckle round his waist, the side of his nose, and looking at Nlcho. tnd very large leather gauntlets on his las with an assumption of great unconcern. hands, into the presence of his former ma- " I can't think who puts these things in. I eager. did'nt."' Mr. Crummles was unfeignedly glad to Still keeping his eye on Nicholas, Mr. wee him, and starting up from before a small Crummles shook his head twice or thrice dressing-glass, with one very bushy eye- with profound gravity, and remarking, that brow stuck on crooked over his left eye, and he could not for the life of him imagine the fellow eyebrow and the calf of one of how the newspapers founid out the things his legs in his hand, embraced him cor- they did folded up the extracts and put dia',v; at tne aan s time observing, that it them in his pocket again. NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 309 "I am astonished to hear this news," said plied the theatre with candles, anl that Nicholas. "Going to America! You had Mr. Lillyvick didn't dare to say his soul no such thing in contemplation when I was was his own, such was the tyrannical sway with you l" of Mrs. Lillyvick, who reigned paramount "' No," replied Crunimles, "I hadn't then. and supreme. The fact is, that Mrs. Crummles-most ex- Nicholas responded to this confidence on traordinary woman, Johnson" - here he the part of Mr. Crummies, by confiding to broke off and whispered something in his him his own name, situation; and prospects, ear. and informing him in as few general words p"Ohe!" said Nicholas, smiling. l"The as he could, of the circumstances which prospect of an addition to your family 1" had led to their first acquaintance. After "The seventh addition, Johnson," re- congratulating him with great heartiness tarned Mr. Crummnles, solemnly. "I thought on the improved state of his fortunes, Mr. such a child as the Plenomenon must have Crummles gave him to understand that been a closer; but it seems we are to nexl morning he and his were to start for have another. She is a very remarkable Liverpool, where the vessellay which was woman." to carry them from the shores of England, " I congratulate you," said Nicholas, and that if Nicholas wished to take a last "and I hope this may prove a phenomenon adieu of Mrs. Crummles, he must repair too." with him that night to a farewell-supper, " Why, it's pretty sure to be some- given in honour of the family at a neigh-. thing uncommon, I suppose," rejoined Mr. bouring tavern; at which Mr. Snittle TimCrummles. " The talent of the other three berry would preside, while the honours of is principally in combat and serious panto- the vice chair would be sustained by the mime. I should like this one to -have a African Swallower. turn for juvenile tragedy; I understand by this time very war they want something of that sort in Ame- The roomewhat crowded, in consequence of rica very much. However, we must take atd iomewu at crowded, in consequence h f it as it comes. Perhaps it may have a ge. influx of four gentlemen, who had nius for the tight-rope. It may have any killed each other in the piece under repre. sentation, Nicholas accepted the invitation, sort of genius, in short, if it takes after its sentation, Nicholas at the conclusion mother, Johnson, for she is an universal and promised to return at the conclusion genius; but, whatever its genius is, that of the performances; preferring the cool genius shall be developed." air and twilight out of doors to the mingled Expressing himself after these terms, perfume of gas, orange-peel, and gunpowMr. Crummles put on his other eyebrow, der, which pervaded the hot and glaring and the calves of his legs, and then put on his legs, which were of a yellowish flesh- He availed himself of this interval to colour, and rather soiled about the knees, buy a silver snuff-box-the best his funds from frequent going down upon those joints, would afford-as a token of remembrance in curses, prayers, last struggles, and other for Mr. Crummiles, and having purchased be. strong passages. sides a pair of ear-rings for Mrs. Crummle, While the ex-manager completed his toi- a necklace for the Phenomenon, and let, he informed Nicholas that as he should flaming shirt-pin for each of the young have a fair start in America, from the pro- gentlemen, he refreshed himnself with a ceeds of a tolerably good engagement walk, and returning a little after the apwhich he had been fortunate enough to ob- pointed time, found the lights out, the theatain, and as he and Mrs. Crummles could tre empty, the curtain raised for the night, scarcely hope-to act for ever-not beinog and Mr. Crummles walking up and down immortal, except in the breath of Fame the stage expecting his arrival. and in a figurative sense-he had made up " Timberry won't be long," said lMr his mind to settle there permanently, in the Crummles. " He played The audience out hope of acquiring some land of his own to-nigrht. HIe does a faitifful black in the which would support them in their old age, last piece, and it takes him a little longei and which they could afterwards bequeath to wash himself." to their children. Nicholas having highly " A very unpleasant line of character, i commended this resolution, Mr. Crummiles should think?" said Nicholas. went on to impart such further intelligence "No, I don't know," replied Mr. Crum. relative, to their mutual friends as he mles; "it comes off easily enough, and thought might prove interesting; inform- there's only the face and neck. We had ing Nicholas, among other things, that a first-tragedy man in out company once Miss Snevellicci was happily married to an who, when he played Othello, used to affluent young wax-chandler u ho had sup. black himself all over. But that's feeling 310 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. a part and goin P into it as if you meant it; "Hnw!" exclaimed Mrs. Crummrie it isn't usoal-more's the pity." with a tragic recoil. Mr. Snittle Timberry now appeared, arm "I fear," said Nicholas, shaking his head, in arm with the African Swallower, and, and making, an attempt to smile, "that being introduced to Nicholas, raised his hat your better-half would be more struck with half-a-foot, and said he was proud to know him now, than ever." him. The Swallower said the same, and "What mean you?" rejoined Mrs. looked and spoke remarkably like an Irish- Crunlmles, in her most popular manner mlan.; "Whence comes this altered tone?" "I see by the bills that you have been " I mean that a dastardly enemy of mine ill, sir," said Nicholas to Mr. Timberry. has struck at me through him, and that I' 1 hope you are none,he worse for your while he thinks to torture me, he inflicts exertions to-night." on him such agonies of terror and suspense Mr. Timberry it. reply, shook his head as — You will excuse me, I am sure." with a gloomy air, tapped his chest several said Nicholas, checking himself. "' I should times with great significancy, and drawing never speak of this, and never do, except his cloak more closely about him, said, to those who know the facts, but for a mo"But no matter —no matter. Come!" ment I forgot myself." It is observable that when people upon With this hasty apology, Nicholas stooped the stage are in any strait involving the down to salute the phenomenon, and very last extremity of weakness. and ex- changed the subject; inwardly cursing his. haustion, they invariably perform feats of precipitation, and very much wondering strength requiring great ingenuity and what Mrs. Crurnmles must think of so sucmuscular power. Thus, a wounded prince den an explosion. or bandit-chief, who is bleeding to death That lady seemed to think very lictke and too faint to move, except to the softest about it, for the supper being by this time music (and then only upon his hands and on table, she gave her hand to Nicholas and knees), shall be seen to approach a cottage repaired with a stately step to the left hanld door for aid, in such a series of writhings of Mr. Snittle Timberry. Nicholas had and twistings, and with such curlings up the honoir to support her, and Mr. Crumof tkha legs, and such rollings over and mles was placed upon the chairrman's right; over., and such gettings up and tumblings the Phenomenon and the Masters Crum. down again, as could never be achieved mleses sustained the vice. save by a very strong man skilled in pos- The company amounted in number te ture-making. And so natural did this sort some twenty-five or thirty, being composea of performance come to Mr. Snittle Tim- of such members of the theatrical profesberry, that on their way out of the theatre sion, then engageid or disengaged in Lonand towards the tavern where the supper don, as were numbered among the most was to be holden, he testified the severity intimate friends of Mr. and Mrs. Crummles. of his recent indisposition and its wasting The ladies and gentlemen were pretty effects upon the nervous system, by a series equally balanced; the expenses of the en*f gymnastic performances, which were the tertainment being defrayed by the latter, Admiration of all witnesses. each of whom had the privilege of inviting "Why this is indeed a joy I had not one of the former as his guest. looked for!" said Mrs. Crummles, when It was upon the whole a very distin. Nicholas was presented. guished party, for independently of the "' Nor I," replied Nicholas. "It is by a lesser theatrical lights who clustered on mere chance that I have this opportunity this occasion round Mr. Snittle Timberry, af seeing you, although I would have made there was a literary gentleman present who a great exertion to have availed myself of had dramatised in his time two hundred it." and forty-seven novels as fast as they had "Here is one whom you know," said come out-some of them faster than they Mrs Crummles, thrusting forward the had come out-and was a literary gentle. Phelnomenon in a blue gauze frock, exten- man in consequence. wively flounced, and trousers of the same; This gentleman sat on the left hand of "and here another-and another," present- Nicholas, to whom he was introduced by ing the Masters Crummleses. "1 And how his friend the African Swallower, from the is your friend, the faithful Digbvy " bottom of the table, with a high eulogium "Digby!" said Nicholas, forgetting at upon his fame and reputation. the instant that this had been Smike's the- "I am happy to know a gentleman of atrical name. "Oh yes. He's quite — such great distinction," said Nicholas, po wha' am I saying — he is very far from litely. well" "Sir" renlied the wit, "' yo re very NICHOLAS NICKLEBY 311 welcome, I'm sure. The honour is recip- pamphlet, an unmeaning farrago of garbler rocal, sir, as I usually say when I drama- extrcts from his work, to which you put tise a book. Did you ever hear a definition your naine as author, with the honourable of fame, sir." distinction annexed, of having perpetrated "I have heard several," replied Nicho- a hundred otWer outrages of the same delas, with a smile. " What is yours?" scription. Now, show me the distinction "When I dramatise a book, sir," said between such pilfering as this, and picking the literary gentleman, "that's fame-for a man's pocket In the street: unless, inits author." deed, it be, that the legislature has a re. "Oh, indeed!" rejoined Nicholas. gard for pocket-handkerchiefs, and leaves r That's fame, sir," said the literary gen- men's brains, except when they are knock. Vteman. ed out by violence, to take care of themi' So Richard Turpin, Tom King, and selves." Jerry Abershaw, have handed down to fame "Men must live. sir'" said the literary the names of those on whom they had com- gentleman, shrugging his shoulders. mitted their most impudent robberies 3" "That would be an equally fair pl~~ in said Nicholas. )'oth cases," replied Nicholas; " but if you "I don't know anything about that, sir," out it upon that ground, I have nothing answered the literary gentleman. more to say, than, that if I were a writer "Shakspeare dramatised stories whicn of books, and you a thirsty dramatist, I had previously appeared in print, it is true," would rather pay your tavern score for six observed Nicholas. months-large as it might be-than have a "' Meaning Bill, sir!" said the literary niche in the Temple of Fame with you for gentleman. "So he did. Bill was an the humblest corner of my pedestal, through adapter, certainly, so he was-and very six hundred generations." well he adapted too- considering." The conversation threatened to take a " I was about to say," rejoined Nicholas, somewhat angry tone when it had arrived " that Shakspeare derived some of his plots thus far, but Mrs. Crummles opportunely from old tales and legends in' general cir- interposed to prevent its leading to any vioculation; but it seems to me, that some of lent outbreak, by making some inquiries of the gentlemen of your craft at the present the literary gentleman relative to the plots day, have shot very far beyond him-" of the six new pieces which he haJ wvrttea "'You're quite right, sir," interrupted by contract to introduce the African Knife. the literary gentleman, leaning back in his swallower in his various unrivalled per chair and exercising his toothpick. " Mu- formances. This speedily engaged him in man intellect, sir, has progressed since his an animated conversation with that lady, time-is progressing-will progress-" in the interest of which, all recollection of "Shot beyond him, I mean," resumed his recent discussion with Nicholas very Nicholas, "in quite another respect, for, quickly evaporated. whereas he brought within the magic cir- The board being now clear of the more cle of his genius, traditions peculiarly substantial articles of food, and punch, wine, adapted for his purpose, and turned farni- and spirits being placed upon it and handed liar things into constellations which should about, the guests, who had been previously enlighten the world for ages, you drag conversing in little groups of three or four, within the magic circle of your dulness, gradually fell off into a dead silence, while subjects not at all adapted to the purposes the majority of those present, glanced from of the stage, and debase as he exalted. time to time at Mr. Snittle Timberry, and For instance, you take the uncompleted the bolder spirits did not even hesitate tc books of living authors, fresh from their strike the table with their knuckles, and hands, wet from the press, cut, hack, and plainly intimate their expectations, by uttercarve them to the powers and capacities ing such enconragements as " Now, Tizm" of your actors, and the capability of your "Wake up, Mr. Chairman," "All chargel, theatres, finish unfinished works, hastily sir, and waiting for a toast," and so forth. and crudely vamp up ideas not yet worked To these remonstrances, Mr. Timberry out by their originl projector, but which deigned no other rejoinder than striking his have doubtless cost him many thoughtful chest and gasping for breath, and giving days and sleepless nights; by a comparison many other indications of being still the of incidents and dialogue, down to the very victim of indisposition-for a nlan must not last word he may have written a fortnight make himself too cheap either on the stage before, do your utmost to anticipate his or off —while Mr. Crummles, who knew plot-all this without his permission, and full well that he would be the subject of aggainst his will; and'dimn, to crown the the forthcoming toast, sat gracefillly in his whole proceeding, nu6ist. m some mean chair with his arm thrown carelessly over 2e 312 AlCHOLAS NICKLEBY the back, and now and hen lifted his glass tation of the term, and was then aslee] o to his mouth and drank t little punch, with the stairs, the intention was abandoned, an the same air with which he was accustomed the honour transferred to the ladies. F to take long draughts of nothing, out of the nally, after a very long sitting, Mr. Sn3ttli pasteboard goblets in banquet scenes. Timberry vacated the chair, and the com At length Mr. Snittle Timberry rose in pany with many adieus and embraces dis the most approved attitude, with one hand persed. in the breast of his waistcoat and the other Nicholas waited to the last to give Hiu on the nearest snuff-box, and having been little presents. When he had said gtood received with great enthusiasm, proposed, bye all round and came to Mr. Crumnmle with abundance of quotations, his friend he could not but mark the difference [Lo Mr. Vincent Crumnmles: ending a pretty tween their present separation and feied long speech by extending his rigrht hand parting at Portsmouth. Not a jot of his on one side and his left on the other, and theatrical manner remained; he put ca t severally calling upon Mr. and Mrs. Crum- his hand with an air which, if he cor.d inles to grasp the same. This done, Mr. have summoned it at will, would have made Vincent Crummles returned thanks, and him the best actor of his day in homely that done, the African Swallower proposed parts, and when Nicholas shook it with the Mrs. Vincent Crummles, in affecting terms. warmth he honestly felt, appeared thorough. Then were heard loud moans and sobs from ly melted. Mrs. Crummles and the ladies, despite of " We were a very happy little company, which that heroic woman insisted upon re. Johnson," said poor Crummles. " You and turning thanks herself, which she did, in a I never had a word. I shall be very glad manner and in a speech which has never to-morrow morning to think that I saw you been surpassed and seldom equalled. It again, but now I almost wish you hadn't then became the duty of Mr. Snittle Tim- come." nerry to give the young Crummleses, which Nicholas was about to return a cheerfiul ne did; after which Mr. Vincent Crum- reply, when he was greatly disconcerted mles, as their father, addressed the compa- by the sudden apparition of Mrs. Grudder;, ny in a supplementary speech, enlarging on who it seemed had declined to attend the tleir virtues, amiabilities, and excellences, supper in order that she might rise tarlier and wishing that they were the sons and in the morning, and who now bui t out ot daughter of every lady and gentleman pre- an adjoining bed-room, habited in very exsent. These solemnities having been suc- traordinary white:obes: t~.'a, and gently pressing Kate's arm to portunity now that a constant round of plea- re-i: lure her, stood erect and undaunted sure and enjoyment opens upon you) and front to front with his unworthy relative. occupying yourself a little more by day, As the brother and sister stood side by have no time to think of what you dream side with a gallant bearing which became by night." them well, a close likeness between them Ralph followed him with a steady look was apparent, which many, had they only to the door, and turning to the bridegroom, seen them apart, might have failed to rewhen they were again alone, said, mark. The air, carriage, and very look " Mark my words, Gride, you won't have and expression of the brother were all reto pay his annuity very long. You have fleeted in the sister, but softened and rethe devil's luck in bargains always. If he fined to the nicest limit of feminine delicacy is not booked to make the long voyage be- and attraction. More striking still was fore many months are past and gone, I wear some indefinable resemblance in the face an orange for a head." of Ralph to both. While they had neveTo this prophecy, so agreeable to his ears, looked more handsome nor he more ugly, Arthur returned no answer than a cackle while they had never held themselves more of great delight, and Ralph throwing him- proudly, nor he shrunk half so low, there self into a chair, they both sat waiting in never had been a time when this resemprofound silence. Ralph was thinking with blance was so perceptible, or when all the a sneer upon his lips on the altered manner worst characteristics of a face rendered of Bray that day, and how soon their fellow- coarse and harsh by evil thoughts were ship in a bad design had lowered his pride half so manifest as now. and established a familiarity between them, "Away!" was the first word he could when his attentive'ear caught the rustling utter as he literally gnashed his teeth.:f a female dress upon the stairs, and the "Away! What brings you here-liar — roots'op of a man. scoundrel-dastard-thiefi" "Wake up," he said, stamping his foot "I comehere," said Nicholas in a low impatiently upon the ground, " and be some- deep voice, "to save your victim if I can. thing like life, man, will you? They are Liar and scoundrel you are in every action here. Urge those dry old bones of' yours of your life, theft is your trade, and double this way —quick, man, quick." dastard you must be or you were not here Gride shambled forward, and stood leer- to-day. Hard words will not move me, ing and bowing close by Ralph's side, when nor would hard blows. Here I stand, and the door opened and there entered in haste will till I have done my errand." -not Bray and his daughter, but Nicholas " Girl!" said Ralph, "retire. " We can and his sister Kate. use force to him, but I would not hurt you If some tremendous apparition from the if I could help it. Retire, you weak and world of shadows had suddenly presented silly wench, and leave this dog to be dealt itself before him, Ralph Nickleby could not with as he deserves." have been more thunder-stricken than he "I will not retire," cried Kate, with was by this surprise. His hands fell pow- flashing eyes and the red blood mantling erless by his side, he staggered back, and in her cheeks. " You will do him no hurt with open mouth, and a face of ashy pale- that he will not repay. You may use force ness, stood gazing at them in speechless with me; I think you will, for I am a girl: rage; his eyes so piomninent, and his face and that would well become you. But if so convulsed and changed by the passions I have a girl's weakness, I have a woman's which raged within hinm, that it would have heart, and it is not you who in a cause like been difficult to recogniso in him the same this can turn that from its purpose." stern, composed, hard-featured man he had "And what may your purpose be, most been not a minut( ago. lofty lady?" said Ralph. "The man that ame to rme last night," To offer to the unhappy subject of your whispered Grid., plucking at his elbow. treachery at this last moment," replied " fhe marln that came to me last night." Nicholas, "a refuge and a home. If the. "I see," muttered Ralph, "I know. I near prospect of such a husband as you might have guessed as much before. Across have provided will not prevail upon her, I mv every path, at every turn, go where I hope she may be moved by the pray( rs and' will, do what I may, he comes." entreaties of one of her own sex. At ali N ICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 351 cents they shall be tried, and I myself "Mind yourself rather than either of us, uvowino to her father from whom I come and and stay where you are,' said Nicholas. by whom I am commissioned, will render it " Will you call down Bray "' cried an act of greater baseness, meanness, and Ralph passionately. cruelty in him if he still dares to force "Remember that you come near me at this marriage on. Here I wait to see him your peril," said Nicholas. and his daughter. For this I came and Gride hesitated: Ralph being by this brought my sister even into your vile pre- time as furious as a baffled tiger made for sence. Our purpose is not to see or speak the door, and attempting' to pass Kate with you; therefore to you, we stoop to say clasped her arm roughly with his hand. no more." Nicholas with his eyes darting fire seized "I Inweed!" said Ralph. "You persist him by the collar. At that momnent a in remaining here, Ma'am, do you?" heavy body fell with great violence on the His niece's bosom heaved with the in- floor above, and an instant afterwartds was dignant excitement into which he had heard a most appalling and terrific scream. iashed her, but she gave him no reply. They all stood stili, and gazed upon "Now, Gride, see here," said Ralph. each other. Scream succee(let d scream " This fellow-I grieve to say my brother's a heavy pattering of feet succeedeld; and son; a reprobate and profligate, stained many shrill voices clamouring t) ether with every mean and selfish crime-this were heard to cry, "H Ie is dead!" fellow coming here to-day to disturb a "Stand off!" cried Nicholas, letting solemn ceremony, and knowing that the loose all the violent passion he had reconsequence of his presenting himself in strained till now, " If this is what I scarce another man's house at such a time, and ly dare to hope it is, you are caught, persisting in remainingo there, must be his villains, in your own toils." eling kicked into the streets and dragged He burst from the room, and darting up through them like the vagabond he is- stairs to the quarter from whence the noise this fellow, mark you, brings with him his proceeded, forced his way through a crowd sister as a protection, thinking we would of persons who quite filled a small bed. not expose a silly girl to the degradation chamber, and found Bray lying on the floor and indignity which is no novelty to him; quite dead, and his daughter clinging to and even after I have warned her of what the body. must ensue, he still keeps her by him as 1" How did this happen?" he cried, look you see, and clings to her apron strings ing wildly about him. 1ike a cowardly boy to his mother's. Is Several voices answered together that this a pretty fellow to talk as big as you he had been observed through the half; have heard him now!" opened door reclining in a strange and un "And as I heard him last night," said easy position upon a chair; that he had Arthur Gride, " as I heard him last night been spoken to several times, and not anwhen he sneaked into my house, and-he! swering, was supposed to be aslsep, until ne! he!-very soon sneaked out again, some person going in and shaking him by when I nearly frightened him to death. the arm, lie fell heavily to the ground and And he wanting to marry Miss Madeline was discovered to be dead. too! Oh, dear! Is there anything else W"' ho is the owner of this house?" said he'd like-anything else we can do for Nicholas, hastily. him, besides giving her up! Would he An elderly woman was pointed,ilt to like his debts paid and his house furnished, him; and to her he said, as he knelt down and a few bank notes for shaving paper if and gently unwound Madeline's arms from he shaves at all! e! lie! he he!" the lifeless mass round which they were "You will remain, girl, will you." said entwined: "I represent this lady's nearest Ralph, turning upon Kate again, "to be I fi'iends as her servant here knows, and must hawled down stairs like a drunken drab- remove her from this dreadful scene. This as I swear you shall if you stop here! No is my sister to whose charge you confide answer! Thank your brother fbr what fol- her. My name and address are upon that lows. Gride, call down Bray -and not card, and you shall receive from me all neo his daughter. Let them keep her above." cessary directions for the arrangements " If you value your head," said Nicho- that must be made. Stand aside, -very one las, taking up a position before the door, of you, and give me room and air for God's and speaking in the same low voice in sake." which he had spoken before, and with no The people fell back, scarce wondering more outward passion than he had before more at what had just occurred, than at the displayed; "stay where you are." excitement and impetuosity of him who " Mind me and not him, and call down spoke, and Nicholas, taking the insensible Bray' said Ralph. girl in his arms, bore her froul the chamlber 852 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. and down stairs into the room he had just do, you dare not tempt ine further," saia quitted, followed by his sister and the faith- Nicholas, " and by this better right, that ful servant, whom he charged to procure a those I serve, and with whom you would coach directly, while he and Kate bent over have done me base wrong and injury, are their beautiful zharge and endeavoured, but her nearest and her dearest friends. In in vain, to restore her to animation. The their name I bear her hence. Give way!" girl performed her office with such expedi- " One word," cried Ralph, foaming a4 tion, that in a very few minutes the coach the mouth. was ready. "Not one," replied Nicholas, " I will not Ralph Nickleby and Gride, stunned and hear of one-save this. Look to yourself, paralysed by the awful event which had so and heed this warning that I give you. suddenly overthrown their schemes tit Your day is past, and night is coming on-" would not otherwise, perhaps, have made "My curse, my bitter, deadly curse, much impression on them,) and carried upon you, boy!" away by the extraordinary energy and pre- "Whence will curses come at your comrncipitation of Nichlas, which bore down all mand or what avails a' curse or blessing before them, looked on at these proceed- from a man like you I warn you, that ings like men in a dream or trance. It was misfortune and discovery are thickening not until every preparation was made for about your head; that the structures you Madeline's immediate removal, that Ralph have raised through all your ill-spent life broke silence by declaring she should not are crumbling into dust; that your path is be taken away. beset with spies; that this very day, ten;' Who says that?" cried Nicholas, start- thousand pounds of your hoarded wealth ing from his knee and confronting them, have gone in one great crash!" but still retaining Madeline's lifeless hand "'T is false!" cried Ralph, shrinking m his. back. "!" answered Ralph, hoarsely.'"'Tis true, and you shall find it so. 1 "Hush, hush!" cried the terrified Gride, have no more words to waste. Stand from catching him by the arm again. "Hear the door. Kate, do you go first. Lay not what he says." a hand on her, or on that woman, or on me, " Ay!" said Nicholas, extending his or so much as brush their garments as they disengaged hand in the air, " hear what he pass you by - You let them pass and he says. That both your debts are paid in the blocks the door again!" one great debt of nature-that the bond Arthur Gride happened to be in the doordue to-day at twelve is now waste paper- way, but' whether intentionally or from that your contemplated fraud shall be dis- confusion was not quite apparent. Nichocovered yet-that your schemes are known las swung him away with such violence as to man, and overthrown by Heaven — to cause him to spin round the room until wretches, that he defies you both to do your he was caught by a sharp angle of the wall worst." and there knocked down; and then taking "' This man," said Ralph, in a voice his beautiful burden in his arms rushed viscarcely intelligible, " this man claims his olcntly out. No one cared to stop him, if wife, and he shall have her." any were so disposed. Making his way' That man claims what is not his; and through a mob of' people, whom a report ae should not have her if he were fifty men, of the circumstances had attracted round with fifty more to back him," said Ni- the house, and carrying Madeline in his cholas. great excitement as easily as if she were "Who shall prevent him." an infant, he reached the coach in which "I will." Kate and the girl were already waiting, By what right I should like to know," and confiding his charge to th:rn. imrnI maid Ralph. "By what right I ask " up beside the coachman, ana bade hi i' Be this right —that, knowing what I drive away. NICHOLAS NICK1LEBY. 353 CHAPTER LV. OF FAMILY MATTERS CARES, HOPES, DISAPPOINTMENTS, AND SORROWS ALTHOUGH Mrs. Nickleby had been made dalen is going to many somebody who!i acquainted by her son and daughter with older than herself? lour poor papa was every circumstance of Madeline Bray's his- older than I was -four years and a half tory which was known to them; although older. Jane Dibabs — the Dibabses lived the responsible situation in which Nicholas in the beautiful little thatched white house stood had been carefully explained to her, one story high, covered all over with ivy and sL9. had been prepared even for the and creeping plants, with an exquisite little possible contingency of having to receive porch with twining honeysuckles and all the young lady in her own house - impro- sorts of things, where the earwigs used to bable as such a result had appeared only a fall into one's tea on a summer evening, few minutes before it came about - still, and always fell upon their backs and kickMrs. Nickleby, from the moment when this ed dreadfully, and where the frogs used to confidence was first reposed in her late on get into the rushlight shades when one the previous evening, had remained in an stopped all night, and sit up and look unsatisfactory and profoundly mystified through the little holes like Christiansstate, from which no explanations or argu- Jane Dibabs, she married a man who was ments could relieve her, and which every a great deal older than herself, and would fresh soliloquy and reflection only aggra- marry him notwithstanding all that could vated more and more. be said to the contrary, and she was so fona "Bless my heart, Kate," so the good of him that nothing was ever equal to it. lady argued, " if the Mr. Cheerybles don't There was no fuss made about Jane Dibabs, want this young lady to be married, why and her husband was a most honourable don't they file a bill against the Lord Chan- and excellent man, and everybo,.y spoke cellor, make her a chancery ward, and shutI well of him. Then why should there he her up in the Fleet prison for safety - I any fuss about this Magdalen 3" have read of such things in the newspapers "Her husband is much older; he is not a hundred times; or, if they are so very her own choice, his character is the very fond of her as Nicholas says they are, why reverse of that which you have just de. don't they marry her themselves —one of scribed. Don't you see a broad distinction them'I mean. And even supposing they between the two cases?" said Kate. don't want her to be married, and don't To this Mrs. Nickleby only replied that want to marry her themselves, why in the she durst say she was very stupid, indeed name of wonder should Nicholas go about she had no doubt she was, for her own chil. the world forbidding people's banns?" dren almost as much as told her so every " I' don't think you quite understand," day of her life; to be sure she was a little said Kate, gently. older than they, and perhaps some foolish "Well I am sure, Kate, my dear, you're people might think she ought reasonably very polite," replied Mrs. Nickleby. "I to know best. However, no doubt she was have been married myself I hope, and I wrong, of course she was-she always was nave seen other people married. Not un- -she couldn't be right, indeed -couldn't derstand, indeed!" be expected to be -so she had better not " I know you have had great experience, expose herself any more; and to all Kate's dear mamma," said Kate; "I mean that conciliations and concessions fbr an hour perhaps you don't quite understand all the ensuing, the good lady gave no other re. circumstances in this instance. We have plies than —Oh, certainly' -why did they stated them awkwardly, I dare say." ask her-her opinion was of no consequence "That I dare say you have," retorted - it didn't matter what she said —with her mother, briskly. " That's very likely. many other rejoinders of the same class. I am not to be held accountable for that; In this frame of mind (expressed when Though at the same time, as the circum- she had become too resigned for speech, by stances speak for themselves, I shall take nods of the head, upliftings of the eyes, Lne liberty, my love, of saying that I do and little beginnings of groans, convert. understand them, and perfectly well too, ed as they attracted attention into short whatever you and Nicholas may choose to coughs), Mrs. Nickleby remained until think to the contrary. WlyW is such a Nicholas and Kate returned with the obh great fuss mitde because this Miss Mag- ject of their solicitude; when, navyig by 3541 NICH}OLAS NICKLkSB. this time asserted her own importance, and whom could the sweet soft voice, the hlgnt becoming besides interested in the trials i step, the delicate hand, the quiet, cheerful, of one so young and beautiful, she not only noiseless discharge of those thousand little displayed the utmost zeal and solicitude, offices of kindness and relief which we feel but took great credit to herself for recom- so deeply when we are ill, and forget so mending the course of procedure which lightly when we are well-on whom could her son had adopted; frequently declaring they make so deep an impression as on a with an expressive look, that it was very young heart stored with every pure and fortunate things were as they were, and true affection that women cherish; almost hinting, that but for great encouragement a stranger to the endearments and devotion and wisdom on her own part, they never of its own sex, save as it learnt them from could have been brought to that pass. itself; and rendered by caJamity and sufNot to strain the question whether Mrs. fering keenly susceptible of the sympathy Nickleby had or had not any great hand in so long unknown and so long sought in bringing matters about, it is unquestion- vain. What wonder that days became as able that she had strong ground for exulta- years in knitting them together? What tion. The brothers, upon their return, wonder, if with every hour of returning bestowed such commendations upon Nicho- health, there came some stronger and las for the part he had taken, and evinced sweeter recognition of the praises which so much joy at the altered state of events Kate, when they recalled old scenes-they and tne,tuVuqy of their young friend seemed old now, and to have been acted from trials so great and dangers so threat- years ago —would lavish on her brother; ening, that, as she more than once inform- where would have been the wonder even ed her daughter, she now considered the if those praises had found a quick response fortunes of the family "as good as" made. in the breast of Madeline, and if, with the Mr. Charles Cheeryble, indeed, Mrs. Nic- image of Nicholas so constantly recurring kleby positively asserted had, in the first in the features of his sister that she could transports of his surprise and delight, "as scarcely separate the two, she had some. good as" said so, and without precisely times found it equally difficult to assign to explaining what this qualification meant, each the feelings they had first inspired, ahe subsided, whenever she mentioned the and had imperceptibly mingled with hei subject, into such a mysterious and im- gratitude to Nicholas, some of that warmei portant state, and had such visions o( feeling which she had assigned to Kate! wealth and dignity in perspective, that "My dear," Mrs. Nickleby would say (vague and clouded though they were) she coming into the room with an elaborate was at such times almost as happy as if she caution, calculated to discompose the nerves had really been permanently provided for of an invalid rather more than the entry on a scale of great splendour, and all her of a horse-soldier at full gallop; " how do cares were over. you find yourself to-night. I hope you are The sudden and terrible shock she had better." received, combined with the great affliction "Almost well,, mamma," Kate would and anxiety of mind which she had for a reply, laying down her work, and taking long time endured, proved too much for Madeline's hand in hers. Madeline's strength. Recovering from the " IKate!" Mrs. Nickleby would say, restate of stupefaction into which the sudden provingly, i" don't talk so loud" (the wortny death of her father happily plunged her, lady herself talking in a whisper that would she only exchanged that condition for one have made the blood of the stoutest mun of dange,-ous and active illness. When the run cold in his veins.) delicate physical powers which have been Kate would take this reproof very quietly, sustained by an unnatural strain upon the and Mrs. Nickleby, making every board mental energies, and a resolute determina- creak, an] every thread rustle as she moved tion not to yield, at last give way, their stealthily about, would adddegree of prostration is usually proportion- "My son Nicholas has just come home, ate to the strength of the effort which has and I have come, according to custom, my previously upheld them. Thus it was that dear, to know from your own lips exactly the illness which fell on Madeline was of how you are, for he won't take my account, no slight or temporary nature, but one and never will." wnich for a time threatened her reason, "He is later than usual to-night," per. anrd-scarcely worse-her life itself. haps Madeline would reply. L' Nearly half Who, slowly recovering from a disorder an hour." so severe and oangerous, could be insensi- "Well, I never saw such people in all ble to the unremitting attentions of such a my life as you are for time up here!" Mrs. nurse as gentle, tender, earnest Kate. On Nickleby would exclaim in great astonishl N 1CH(LAX NICKLEB Y 35. mernt; "I declare I never did! I had not wondering how, if anything were to happen the least idea that Nicholas was after his to herself, the family would ever get on timne —not the smallest. Mr. Nickleby without her. used to say-your poor papa I am speaking At other times when Nicholas came of, Kate my dear-us6d to say that appetite home at night, he would be accompanied was the best clock in the world, but you by Mr. Frank Cheeryble, who was commishave no appetite, my dear Miss Bray, I sioned by the brothers to inquire how Mawish you had, and upon my word I really deline was that evening. On such otcathink you ought to take something that sions (and they were of very frequent oc. would give you one; I am sure I don't currence,) Mrs. Nickleby deemed it of know, but I have heard that two or three particular importance that she should have dozen *ative lobsters give an appetite, her wits about her; for from certain signs though that comes to the same thing after and tokens which had attracted her attenr. all, for I suppose you must have an appetite tion, she shrewdly suspected that Mr. before you can take'em. If I said lobsters, Frank, interested as his uncles were in I meant oysters, but of course it's all the Madeline, came quite as much to see Kate same, though really how you came to know as to inqiire after her; the more especially about Nicholas " as the brothers were in constant communi" We happened to be just talking about cation with the medical man, came backhim, mamma; that was it." wards and forwards very frequently them. " You never seem to me to be talking selves, and received a full report from about anything else, Kate, and upon my Nicholas eve:ry morning. These were word I am quite surprised at your being so proud times ftr Mrs. Nickleby, and never very thoughtless. You can find subjects was anybody halff so discreet and sage as enough to talk about sometimes, and when she, or half so m) sterious withal; and never you know how important it is to keep up was there such cunning generalship, or Miss Bray's spirits, and interest her and all such unfathomable designs, as she brought that, it really is quite extraordinary to me to bear upon Mr. i'ank, with the view of what can induce you to keep on prose, ascertaining whether her suspicions were prose, prose, din, din, din, everlastingly well founded, and if s., of tantalising him upon the same theme. You are a very into taking her into tis confidence and kind nurse, Kate, and a very good one, apd throwing himself upon her merciful con. I know you mean very well; but I will say sideration. Extensive was the artillery, this-that if it wasn't for me, I really don't heavy and light, which M-rs. Nickleby know what would become of Miss Bray's brought into play for the furtherance of spirits, and so I tell the doctor every day. these great schemes, and various and op. He says he wonders how I sustain my own, posite the means which she employed to and I am sure I very often wonder myself bring about the end she had in view. At how I can-'ontrive to keep up as I do. Of one time she was all cordiality and ease, course it's an exertion, but still, when I at another, allstiffhess and frigidity. Now know how much depends upon mg in this she would seem to open her whole heart house, I am obliged to make it. There's to her unhappy victim, and the next time nothing praiseworthy in that, but it's ne- they met, receive him with the most dis. cessary, and I do it." tant and studious reserve, as if a new light With that, Mrs. Nickleby would draw had broken in upon her, and guessing his up a chair, and for some three quarters of intentions, she had resolved to check them an hour run through a great variety of dis- in the bud; as if she felt it her bounden tracting topics in the most distracting man- duty to act with Spartan firmness, and at ner possible: tearing herself away at length once and for ever to discourage hopes which on the plea that she must now go and never could be realized. At othtrtimes, amuse Nicholas while he took his supper. when Nicholas was not there to overhear, After a preliminary raising of his spirits and Kate was up-stairs busily tending her with the information that she considered sick friend, the worthy lady would throw the patient decidedly worse, she would fur- out dark hints of an intention to send her ther cheer him up by relating how dull, to France for three or four years, or to listless, and low-spirited Miss Bray was, Scotland for the improvement of her health, because Kate foolishly talked about nothing impaired by her late fatigues, or to America else but him and family matters. When on a visit, or anywhere that threatened a she had made Nicholas thoroughly com- long and tedious separation. Nay, she even fortable with these and other inspiriting went so far as to hint obscurely at an atremarks, she would discourse at length on tachment entertained for her daughter by the arduous duties she had performed that the son of an old neighbour of theirs. one day, and sometimes be moved to tears in Horatio Peltirogus (a young gentlellan 356 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. who might have been at that time four "I am sure, my dear 1F.holas, how yoQ years old, or thereabouts,) and to represent can have failed to notice it is to me quite it indeed as almost a settled thing between extraordinary; though I don't know why I the families- only waiting for her daugh- should say that either, because of'course as ter's final decision to come off with the far as it goes, and to a certain extent, there sanction of the church, and to the unspeak- is a great deal in this sort of thing, espe. able happiness and content of all parties. cially in this early stage, which, however It was in the full pride and glory of hav- clear it may be to females, can scarcely be ing sprung this last mine one night with expected to be so evident to men. I don't extraordinary success, that Mrs. Nickleby say that I have any particular penetration took the opportunity of being left alone with in such matters. I may have; those about her son before retiring to rest, to sound him me should know best about that, hand perupon the subject which so occupied her haps do know. Upon that pointI shall exthoughts: not doubting that they could press no opinion-it wouldn't become me have but one opinion respecting it. To to do so'; it's quite out of the questionthis end, she approached the question with quite." divers laudatory and appropriate remarks Nicholas snuffed the candles, put his touching the general amiability of Mr. hands into his pockets, and leaning back in Frank Cheeryble. his chair, assumed a look of patient suffer"You are quite right, mother," said Ni- ing and melancholy resignation. cholas, " quite right. He is a fine fellow." "I think it's my duty, Nioholas, my "Good-looking, too," said Mrs. Nickieby. dear," resumed his mother, "to tell you "Decidedly good-looking," answered Ni- what I know, not only because you have a cholas. right to know it too, and to know every 1" What may you call his nose, now, my thing that happens in this family, but be. dear?" pursued Mrs Nickleby, wishing to cause you have it in your power to promote interest Nicholas in the subject to the ut- and assist the thing very much; and there most. is no doubt that the sooner one can come "Call it I" repeated Nicholas. to a clear understanding upon such subjects. " Ah!" retur.red his mother, "what style it is always better every way. There are of nose-what order of architecture, if one a great many things you might do, such as may say so. I am not very learned in noses. taking a walk in the garden sometimes, or Do you call it a Roman or a Grecian 3" sitting up stairs in your own room for a lit"Upon my word, mother," said Nicho- tle while, or making believe to fall asleep las, laughing, "as well as I remember, I occasionally, or pretending that you recolshould call it a kind of Composite, or mixed lected some business, and going out for an nose. But I have no very strong recollec- hour or so, and taking Mr. Smike with you. tion upon the subject, and if it will afford These seem very slight things, and I dare you any gratification, I'1l observe it more say you will be amused at my making them closely, and let you know." of so much importance; at the same time, "I wish you would, my dear," said Mrs. my dear, I can assure you (and you'll find Nickleby, with an earnest look. this out, Nicholas, for yourself one of these "Very well," returned Nicholas. "I days, if you ever fall in love with anybody, will." as I trust and hope you will, provided she Nicholas returned to the perusal of the is respectable and well-conducted, and of book he had been reading, when the dia- course you'd never dream of falling in love logue had gone thus far. Mrs. Nickleby, with anybody who was not,) I say, I can after stopping a little for consideration, re- assure you that a great deal more depends sumed. upon these little things than you would sup. " He is very much attached to you, Ni- pose possible. If your poor papa was alive, tholas, my dear." he would tell you how much depended upon Nicholas laughingly said, as he closed the parties being left alone. Of course you his book, that he was glad to hear it, and are not to go out of the room as if you observed that his mother seemed deep in meant it and did it on purpose, but as if it their new friend's confidence already. was quite an accident, and to come back "Hem!" said Mrs. Nickleby. "I don't again in the same way. If you cough in know about that, my dear, but I think it is the passage before you open the door, or very necessary that somebody should be in whistle carelessly, or hum a tune, or somehis confidence-highly necessary." thing of that sort, to let them know you're Elated by a look of curiosity from her son, coming, it's always better; because of and the consciousness of possessing a great course, though it's not only natural, but secret all to herself, Mrs. Yickleby went on perfectly correct and proper under the cir. with great aaimation: cumstances, still it is very confusing if you NICHOI.AS NICKLEBY. 357 interrupt young people when they are — "What of Kate?" inquired Nkiholas. when thev are silting on the sofa, and-and "Why that, my dear," returned Mis. all that sort of thing, which is very nonsen- Nickleby, " is just the point upon which 1 sical perhaps, but still they will do it." am not yet satisfied. During this sickness, The profound astonishment with which she has been constantly at Madeline's bedher son regarded her during this long ad- side —never were two people so fond of dress, gradually increasing as it approached each other as they have grown -and to its climax, in no. way discomposed.Mrs. tell you the truth, Nicholas, I have rather Nickleby, but rather exalted her opinion of kept her away now and then, because I ier own cleverness; therefore, merely stop- think it's a good plan, and urges a young sing to remark, with much complacency, man oil. He doesn't get too sure, you that she had fully expected him to be sur- know." prised, she entered upon a vast quantity of She said this with such a mingling of circumstantial evidence of a particularly high delight and self-congratulation, that incoherent and perplexing kind, the upshot it was inexpressibly painful to Nicholas to of which was to establish, beyond the pos- dash her hopes; but he felt that there was sibility of doubt, that Mr. Frank Cheeryble only one honourable course before him, and nad fallen desperately in love with Kate. that he was bound to take it. "With whom." cried Nicholas. "Dear mother," he said kindly, "don't Mrs. Nickleby repeated, with Kate. you see that if there really were any seri. "What! our Kate-my sister!" ous inclination on the part of Mr. Frank "Lord, Nicholas!" returned Mrs. Nic- towards Kate, and we suffered ourselves kleby, " whose Kate should it be, if not for one moment to encourage it, we should ours; or what should I care about it, or take be acting a most dishonourable and unany interest in it for, if it was anybody but grateful part? I ask you if you don't see your sister3" it, but I need not say that, I know you "Dear mother," said Nicholas, "' surely don't, or you would have been more strictly it can't be." upon your guard. Let me explain my r"Very good, my dear," replied Mrs. meaning to you-remember how poor we Nickleby, with great confidence. "Wait, are." and see." Mrs. Nickleby shook her head, and said Nicholas had never, until that moment, through her tears that poverty wasi not a oestowed one thought upon the remote pos- crime. sibility of such an occurrence as that which "No," said Nicholas, " and for that very was now communicated to him; for, be- reason poverty should engender an honest sides that he had been much from home of pride, that it may not lead and tempt us to late and closely occupied with other mat- unworthy actions, and that we may preserve ters, his own jealous fears had prompted the self-respect which a hewer of wood the suspicion that some secret interest in and drawer of water may maintain — and Madeline, akin to that which he felt him- does better in maintaining than a monarch self, occasioned those visits of Frank Chee- his. Think what we owe to these two ryble which had recently become so fre- brothers; remember what they have done quent. Even now, although he knew that and do every day for us with a generosity the observation of an anxious mother was and delicacy for which the devotion of our mauch more likely to be correct in such a whole lives would be a most imperfect and case than his own, and although she re- inadequate return. What kind of return minded him of many little circumstances would that be which would be comprised in which, taken together, were certainly sus- our permitting their nephew, their only ceptible of the construction she trium- relative, whom they regard as a son, and phantly put upon them, he was not quite for whom it would be mere childishness to convinced but that they arose from mere suppose they have not formed plans suitably good-natured thoughtless gallantry, which adapted to the education lie has had, and would have dictated the same conduct the fortune he will inherit-in our permit towards any other girl who was young and ting him to marry a portionless girl so Dleasing —at all events, he hoped so, and closely connected with us, that the irrt.therefore tried tb believe it. sistible inference must be that he was en" I am very much disturbed by what you trapped by a plot; that it was a deliberate tell me," said Nicholas, after a little reflec- scheme and a speculation amongst us three tion, "thrugh I yet hope you. nlay be mis- Bring the matter clearly before yourself, ta ken." mother. Now, how would you feel if they "'I don't understand why you should were married, and the brothers coming hope sy'" said Mrs. Nickleby, "I confess; here on one of those kind errands which belt you may depend upor it I am not." bring them here so often, you had to break R359 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. out Lo them the truth! Would you be at "My dear sir, no time must be Jo tp ease, and feel that you had played an This lad shall not die if such human mean& honest, open part?" as we can use can save his life; neither Poor Mrs. Nickleby, crying more and shall he die alone, and in a strange place. more, murmured that of course Mr. Frank Remove him to-morrow morning, see that would ask the consent of his uncles first. he has every comfort that his situation re-', Why, to be sure, that would place him quires, and don't leave him - don't leave in a better situation with them," said him, my dear sir, until you know that Nicholas, "but we should still be open to there is no longer any immediate danger. the same suspicions, the distance between It would be hard indeed to part you nowus would still be as great, the advantages no, no, no. Tim -shall wait upon you toto be gained would still be as manifest as night, sir; Tim shall wait upon you to. now. We may be reckoning without our night with a parting word or two. Brother host in all this," he added more cheerfully, Ned, my dear fellow, Mr. Nickleby waits "and I trust, and almost believe we are. to shake hands and say good bye; Mr. If it be otherwise, I have that confidence Nickleby won't be long gone; this poor in Kate that I know she will feel as I do, chap will soon get better —very soon get and in you, dear mother, to be assured better-and then he'll find out some nice that after a little consideration you will do homely country people to leave him wit h, the same.". and go backwards and forwards sometimes After many more representations and -backwards and forwards you know, Ned entreaties, Nicholas obtained a promise -and there's no cause to be down-hearted, from Mrs. Nickleby that she would try all for he'11 very soon get better, very soonl, she could to think as he did, and that if won't he-won't he, Ned?" Mr. Frank persevered in his attentions she What Tim Linkinwater said, or whal awould endeavour to discourage them, or, he brought with him that night, needs not at the least, would render him no counte- to be told. Next morning Nicholas and nance or assistance. He determined to his feeble companion began their journey. forbear mentioning the subject to Kate until he was quite convinced there exist- but for those who crowded round him them, ed a real necessity for his doing so, and had never met a look of kindness, or known r solved to assure himself, as well as he a word of pity-could tell what agony of cou'd by close personal observation, of the a word of pity-c d tell what agony on dyact position of affairs. This was a very vaiing sorrow, wblight ed thoughts, what sad wise resolution, but he was prevented from partin i putting it into practice by a new source of cried Nicolas eagerly, as anxiety and uneasiness. Smike became alarmingly ill; so re- looked from the coach window, "they are duced and exhausted that he could scarcely at the corner of the lane still! And now meove from room to room without assistance, there's Kate-poor Kate, whom you said and so worn and emaciated that it was you couldn't bear to say good bye topainful to look upon him. Nicholas was waving her handkerchief. Don't go with warned by the same medical authority to out one gesture of farewell to Kate!" whom he had at first appealed, that the " I cannot make it!" cried his trembling last chance and hope of his life depended companion, falling back in his seat and on his being instantly removed from Lon- covering his eyes. " Do you see her now 1 don. That part of Devonshire in which Is she there still 1" Nicholas had been himself bred when a "Yes, yes!" said Nicholas earnestly. boy, was named as the most favourable "There, she waves her hand again. I havt spot,'but this advice was cautiously coupled answered it for you- and now they are with the information, that whoever accom- out of sight. Do not give way so bitterly, panied him thither must be prepared for dear friend, do not. You will meet them the worst, for every token of rapid con- all again." sumption had appeared, and he might never He whom he thus encouraged, raised his return alive. withered hands and clasped them fervently The kind brothers, who were acquainted togethere with the poor creature's sad history, despacched old Tim to be present at this con- In heaven-I humbly pray to God-in sultation. That same morning, Nicholas heaven!" was summoned by brother Charles into his It sounded like thle prayer of a broweo private room, and thus addressed.,\ heart. NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 36G CHAPTER LVI. IAIPH NICKLEBY, BAFFLED BY HIS NEPHEW IN HEIS LATE DESIGN, fIATCI''Es A SCHEME OF RETALIATION WHICH ACCIDENT SUGGESTS TO HIM, AND TAKES INTO HIS COUNSELS A TRIED AUXILIARY. THE course which these adventures livid face, the horrible expression of the shape out for themselves and imperatively features to which every nerve and muscle, call upon the historian to observe, now de- as it twitched and throbbed with a spasm meatnds that they should revert to the point whose worknigs no effort could conceal, they attained previous to the commence- gave every instant some new and frightful ment of the last chapter, when Ralph aspect-there was something so unnatural Nickleby and Arthur Gride were left to- and ghastly in the contrast between his gether in the house where death had so harsh, slow, steady voice (only altered by a suddenly reared his dark and heavy banner. certain halting of the breath, which made With clenched hands, and teeth ground him pause between almost every word like together so firm and tight that no locking a drunken man bent upon speaking plainly), of the jaws could for the time have fixed and these evidences of the most intense and and riveted them more securely, Ralph violent passions, and the struggle he made.tood for some minutes in the same attitude to keep them under, that if the dead body in which he had last addressed his nephew: which lay above had stood instead of him breathing heavily, but as rigid and motion- before the cowering Gride, it could scarcely less in other respects as if he had been a have presented a spectacle which would brazen statue. After a time, he began by have terrified him more. slow degrees, as a man rousing himself "' The coach," said Ralph after a time, fioin heavy slumber, to reiax. For a mo- during which he had struggled like some nlent he shook his clasped fist stealthily strong man against a fit. " We came in a and savagely towards the door by which coach. Is it —waiting?" Nicholas had disappeared, and then thrust- Gride gladly availed himself of the preing it into his breast as if to repress by text for going to the window to see, ana force even this show of passion, turned Ralph, keeping his face steadily the other round and confronted the less hardy usurer, way, tore at his shirt with the hand which who had not yet risen from the ground. he had thrust into his breast, and'muttered The cowering wretch, who still shook in a hoarse whisperin every limb, and whose few grey hairs "Ten thousand pounds! He said ten trembled and quivered on his head with thousand! The precise sum paid in but abject dismay, tottered to his feet as he met yesterday for the two mortgages, and which Ralph's eye, and shielding his face with would have gone out again at heavy inteo both hands, protested while he crept to- rest to-morrow. If that house has failed, wards the door that it was no fault of his. and he the first to bring the news!-Is the "Who said it was, manE' returned coach there?" Ralph, in a suppressed voice. " Who said "Yes, yes," said Gride, startled by the it was!" fierce tone of the inquiry. "It's here "You looked as if you thought I was to Dear, dear, what a fiery man you are!" blame," said Gride, timidly. " Come here," said Ralph, beckoning to "Pshaw!" Ralph muttered, forcing a him. " We mustn't make a show of being laugh. " I blame him for not living an disturbed. We'll go arm in arm." hour longer-one hour longer would have "But you pinch me black and blue," been long enough —I blame no one else." urged Gride, writhing with pain. "N —n-no one else! " said Gride. Ralph threw him off impatiently, and "Not for this mischance," replied Ralph. descending the stairs with his usual firm a I have an old score to clear with that — and heavy tread, got into the coach. Artbul it~at young fellow who his carried off your Gride followed. After looking doubtfully mrAtress, but that has nothing to do with at Ralph when the man asked where he his blustering just now, for we should soon was to drive, and finding that he'remained have been quit of him, but for this cursed silent, and expressed no wish upon the snlb wccident." ject, Arthur mentioned his own house, and There was something so unnatural in the thither they proceeded. constrained calmness with which Ralph On their way, Ralph sat in the furthes Nickleby spoke, when coupled with the corner with folded arms, and uttered net a 23 360 N:ICHOLAS NICKLEB1. word. With his chin sunk upon his breast, were alone. " Suppose she should be tar and his downcast eyes quite hidden by the i dered-lying with her brains knocked out contraction of his knotted brows, he might by a poker-eh l" have been asleep for any sign of conscious- 1" Suppose she were," said Ralph hoarsely, ness he gave, until the coach stopped, when " I tell you I -wish such things were more he raised his head, and glancing through:common than they are, and more easily the window, inquired what place that was. done. You may stare and shiver-I do.:" " My. house," answered the disconsolate Gride, affected perhaps by its loneliness. He applied himself to a pump in the "Oh dear' my house." yard, and having ltaken a deep draught of'"True," said Ralph. "I have not ob- water and flung a quantity on his head arn "True," said Ralph. "I have not ob' served~ the way we came. I should like a face, regained his accustomed manner and glass ofth wayter. -You have that in thke led the way into the house, Gride following glass of water. You have that in the close at his heels. house, I suppose1" Itwclose at his heels. "You shall have a glass of —of anything It was the same dark place as ever: yolu likef" answered Gride, with a groan. every room dismal and silent as it was wort' It's no use knocking, coachman. Ring to be, and every ghostly article of furniture lhke bell." in its customary place. The iron heart of The man rang, and rang, and rang again; the old dim clock, undisturbed by all the then knocked until the streets re-echoednoise without, still beat heavily within its with the sounds; then listened at the key dusty case, the tottering presses slunk from hole of the door. Nobody came, and the the sight as usual in their melancholy corhouse was silent as the d grave. ners, the echoes of footsteps returned the "How's this?" said Ralph impatiently. same dreary sounds; the long-legged spider "Peg is so very deaf," answered Gride, paused in his nimble run, and scared by the with a look of anxiety and alarm. " Oh sight of men in that his dull domain, hung dear! Ring again, coachman. She sees motionless upon the wall counterfeiting tHe bell." -death ufitil they should have passed him by Again the man rang and knocked, and From cellar to garret went the two usuknocked and rang again. Some of the rers opening every creaking door and lookneighbours threw up their windows and ing into every deserted room. But no Peg called across the street to each other that was there. At.ast they sat them down in old Gride's housekeeper must have dropped the apartment which Arthur Gride usually down dead. Others collected round the inhabited, to rest after their search. coach and gave vent to various surmises; "The hag is out on some preparation some held that she had fallen asleep, some for your wedding festivities, I suppose," that she had burnt herself to death, some said Ralph preparing to depart. 1" See that she had got drunk; and one very fat here. I destroy the bond; we shall never man that she gadd seen something to eat need it now." which had frightened her so much (not being Gride who had been peering narrowly used to it) that she had fallen into a fit. about the room fell at that moment upon This last suggestion particularly delighted his knees before a large chest, and uttered the bystanders, who cheered it rather up- a territleyell. roariously, and were with some difficulty "How now " said Ralph looking sternly deterred from dropping down the area and: round. breaking open the kitchen door to ascertain "Robbed! robbed!" screamed Arth* the fact. Nor was this all, for rumours Gride. having gone abroad that Arthur was to be "Robbed! of money?" married that morning, very particular in- "No, no, no. Worse, far worse." quiries were made after the bride, who was "Of what then?" demanded Ralph. held by the majority to be disguised in the "Worse than money, worse than mo person of Mr. Ralph Nickleby, which gave ney!" cried the old man, casting the papers rise to much jocose indignationi at the pub- out of the chest, like some beast tearing lic appearance of a bride in boots and pan- up the earth. " She had better have sto. taleons, and called forth a great many hoots len money — all my money —I haven't ad groans. At length the two money- much. She had better have made me a lenders obtained shelter in a house next beggar, than have done this!".door, and being accommodated with a lad- "Done what " said Ralph. "Done der, clambered over the wall of the back what, you devil's dotard.":yard, which was not a high one, and de- Still Gride madb no answer, but tore scended in safety on the other side. and scratched among the papers, and yelled "I arm almost afraid to go in, I declare," and screeched like a fiend in torment s.id Arthur, turning to Ralph when they "There is something missing, you say,"' NICHOLAS NICKLEBi. 361 said Ralph, shaking him furiously by the into the coach and was driven to his own collar. " What is it." home. " Papers, deeds. I am a ruined man- A letter lay on his table. He let it lie lost-lost! I am robbed, I am ruined. She there for some time as if he had not the saw me reading it-reading it of late.-I courage to open it, but at length did so and did very often. - She watched me — saw turned deadly pale. me put it in the box that fitted into this — "The worst has happened," he said, the box is gone-she has stolen it.-Dam- "the house has failed. I see-the rumour nation seize her, she has robbed me!" was abroad in the City last night, ana "Of what!" cried Ralph, on whom a reached the ears of those merchants. Well sudden light appeared to break, for his eyes — well!" flashed and his frame trembled with agita- He strode violently up and down the tion as he clutched Gride by his bony arm. room and stopped again. " Of what?" "Ten thousand pounds! And only lying' She don't know what it is; she can't there for a day-for one day! How many read!" shrieked Gride, not heeding the in- anxious years, how many pinching days quiry. "There's only one way in which and sleepless nights, before I scraped tomoney can be made of it, and that is by gether that ten thousand pounds!- Ten taking it to her. Somebody will read it thousand pounds! How manyproudpainted for her and tell her what to do. She and dames would have fawned and smiled, and her accomplice will get money for it and how many spendthrift blockheads done me'be let off besides; they'll make a merit of lip-service to my face and cursed me in it —say they found it — knew it —and be their hearts, while I turned that ten thouevidence against me. The only person it sand pounds into twenty! While I ground, will fall upon is me-me-me!" and pinched, and used these needy borrow"Patience!" said Ralph, clutching him ers for my pleasure and profit, what smoothstill tighter and eyeing him with a sidelong tongued speeches, and courteous looks, and look, so fixed and eager as sufficiently to civil letters they would have given me'! denote that he had some hidden purpose in The cant of the lying world is, that men what he was about to say. " Hear reason. like me compass our riches by dissimulation She can't have been gone long. I'll call and treachery, by fawning, cringing, and the police. Give you but information of stooping. Why, how many lies, what what she has stolen, and they'll lay hands mean and abject evasions, what humbled upon her, trust me.-Here-help!" behaviour from upstarts who, but for my "No-no-no," screamed the old man money, would spurn me aside as they do putting his hand upon Ralph's mouth. " I their betters every day, would that ten can't, I daren't." thousand pounds have brought me in! "Help! help!" cried Ralph. Grant that I had doubled it - made cent. "No, no, no," shrieked the other, stamp- per cent.-for every sovereign told another ing upon the ground with the energy of a -there would not be one piece of money madman. "I tell you no. I daren't — I in all that heap of coin which wouldn't daren't!" represent ten thousand mean and paltry " Daren't make this robbgry public." lies, told-not by the money-lender, oh no! said Ralph eagerly.' but by the money-borrowers-your liberal,''No " rejoined Gride, wringing his thoughtless, generous dashing folks, who hands. "Hush! Hush! Not a word of would'nt be so mean as save a sixpence for this; not a word must be said. I am un- the world." done. Whichever way I turn, I am undone. Striving as it would seem to lose partof I am betrayed. I shall be given up. I the bitterness of his regrets in the bitter. shall die in Newgate!" ness of these other thoughts, Ralph con. With frantic exclamations such as these, tinued to pace the room. There was less and with many others in which fear, grief, and less of resolution in his manner as his and rage, were strangely blended, the mind gradually reverted to his loss; and at anic-stricken wretch gradually subdued length, dropping into his elbow-chair, and is first loud outcry until it had softened grasping its sides so firmly that they creak. down into a low despairing moan chequered ed again, he said, between his set teeth: now and then by a howl as, going over "The time has been when nothing could such papers as were left in the chest, he have moved me like the loss of this great discovered some new loss. With very sum-nothing, for births, deaths, marriages, little ex ise for departing so abruptly, and every event which is of interest to Ralph left him, and greatly disappointing most men, had (unless it is connected with the loiterers outside the nouse by telling gain or loss of money) no interest for nm. them there was iothing the matter, got But now I swear, I mix up with the Let, -a-W 362 NICHOLAS A ICKLEBY. nis triumph in telling it. If he had brought "You alter it every day," sax. Newman it about-I almost feel as if he had-I "It isn't fair." couldn't hate him more. Let me but reta- "You do n't keep many cooks, and can liate upon him, by degrees however slow; easily apologize to tnem for the trouble," let me but begin to get the better of him, retorted Ralph. "Begone, sir!" let me but turn the scale, and I can bearit." Ralph not only issued this order in his His meditations- were long and deep. most peremptory manner, but, under pre. They terminated in his despatching a letter tence of fetching some papers from the by Newman, addressed to Mr. Squeers at little office, saw it obeyed, and when New. the Saracen's Head, with instructions to man had left the house, chained the door inquire whether he had arrived in town, to prevent the possibility of his returning and if so, to wait an answer. Newman secretly by means of his latch-key. brought back the information that Mr. "I have reason to suspect that fellow," Squeers had come by mail that morning, said Ralph, when he returned to his own and had received thte letter in bed; but that office. "Therefore, until I have thought he sent his duty, and word that he would of the shortest and least troublesome way get up and wait upon Mir. Nickleby directly. of ruining him, I hold it best to keep him The interval between the delivery of this at a distance." message and the arrival of Mr. Squeers "It would n't take much to ruin him,! was very short; but before he came, Ralph should think," said Squeers, with a grin. had suppressed every sign of emotion, and "Perhaps not," answered Ralph. "Not once more regained the hard, immoveable, to ruin a great many people whom I know. inflexible mannler which was habitual to You were going to say- " him, and to which, perhaps, was ascriba- Ralph's summary and matter-of-course ble no small part of the influence which, way of holding up this example and throw. over many men of no very strong prejudices inf out the hint that followed it, had evi. on the score of morality, he could exert dently an effect (as doubtless it was de. almost at will. signed to: have) bpon Mr. Squeers, who " Well, Mr. Squeers," he said, welcoming said, after a little hesitation, and in a much that worthy with his accustomed smile, of more subdued tonewhich a sharp look and a thoughtful frown " Why, what I was a going to say, sir, were part and parcel,-"' how do you do?" is, that this here business regarding of that "Why, sir," said Mr. Squeers, "I'm ungrateful and hard-hearted chap Snawley pretty well. So's the family, and so's the senior, puts me out of my way, and occaboys, except for a sort of rash as is a run- sions a inconveniency quite unparalleled, ning through the school, and rather puts besides, as I may say, making, for whole'ern off their feed. But it's a ill wind as weeks together, Mrs. Squeers a perfect blows no good to nobody; that's what I al- widder. It's a pleasure to me to act with ways say when them lads has a wisitation. you, of course." A wisitation, sir, is the lot of mortality. 1" Of course," said Ralph, drily. Mortality itself, sir, is a wisitation. The'" Yes, I say of course," resumed Mr. world is chock full of wisitations; and if a Squeers, rubbing his knees; "but at the boy repines at a wisitation, and makes you same time, wien one comes, as I do now, uncomfortable with his noise, he must have better than two hundred and fifty mile to his head punched. That's going according take a afferdavid, it does put a man out a to the scripter, that is." good deal, letting alone the risk." "Mr. Squeers," said Ralph, drily. "And where may the risk be, Mr "Sir." Squeers?" said Ralph. ~' We'll avoid these precious morsels of'" I said, letting alone the risk," repIied morality, if you please, and talk of busi- Squeers, evasively. ness." " And I said, where was the risk?" "With all my heart, sir," rejoined "I was n't complaining, you know, Mr. tlueers;;and first let me say " Nickleby," pleaded Squeers. "Upon my "First let me say, if you please - word I never see such a -" Noggs!" "I ask you where is the risk." repeated Newman presented himself when the Ralph, emphatically. summons had been twice or thrice repeated, "Where the risk?" returned Squeers and asked if his master called. rubbing his knees still harder. "s Why, it "I did. Go to your dinner. And go at an't necessary to mention-certain subjects once Do you hear." is best awoided. Oh, you know what risk I "It an't time," said Newman, doggedly. mean." "My time is yours, and I say it is," re- "How often have I told you," said Ralph, mmed Ralpa. "and how ofter, am I to tell you, that you NICHLOLAS3 NICKLEBY 363 tun no risk. What have you sworn, or "Why, in a measure, means," returned what are you asked to swear, but that at Squeers, "as it may be so; that it wasn't suoh and such a time a boy was left with all on my account, because you had sornme you in the name of Smike; that he was old grudge to satisfy, too." at your school for a given number of years,, If I had not had," said Ralph, in lo was lost under such and suchcircumstances, way abashed by' the reminder, "do you is now found, and has been identified by think I should have hyed you?" you in such and such keeping. This is all "Why, no, I don't suppose you would," true-is it not 1" Squeers replied. -"I only wanted that "Yes," replied Squeers, " that's all true." point to be all square and straight between'Well, then," said Ralph,'" what risk us." do you run! Who swears to a lie but "How can it ever be otherwise." retortSnawley-a man whom I have paid much ed Ralph. " Except that account is against Less than I have you!" me, for I spend money to gratify my hatred, "' lie certainly did it cheap, did Snawley," and you pocket it, and gratify yours at the observed Squeers. same time. You are at least as avaricious " He did it cheap!" retorted Ralph, as you are revengeful-so am I. Which testily, "yes, and he did it well, and car- is best off? You, who win money and re. ries it off with a hypocritical face and a venge at the same time and by the same sanctified air, but you - risk! What do process, and who are at all events sure of you mean by risk? The certificates are money, if not of revenge'; or I, who am all genuine, Snawley had another son, he only sure of spending money in any case, has been married twice, his first wife is and can but win bare revenge at last 1" dead, none but her ghost could tell that she As Mr. Squeers could only answer this didh't write that letter, none but Snawley proposition by shrugs and smiles, Rallph himself can tell that this is not his son and sternly bade him be silent, and thankful that his son is food for worms. The only that he was so well off, and then fixing his perjury is Snawley's, and I fancy he is eyes steadily upon him, proceeded to saypretty well used to it. Where's your First, that Nicholas had thwarted him in risk." a plan he had formed for the disposal in i" Why, you know," said Squeers, fidget- marriage of a certain young lady, and had, ing in his chair, " If you come to that, I in the confusion attendant upon her father's might say where's yours." sudden death, secured that lady himself "You might say where's mine!" return- and borne her off in triumph. ed Ralph; " you may say where's mine. I Secondly, that by some will or settle don't appear in the business — neither do ment —certainly by some instrument in you. All Snawley's interest is to stick writing, which must contain the young well to the story he has told, and all his lady's name, and could be therefore easily risk is to depart from it in the least. Talk selected from others, if access to the place if your risk in the conspiracy!" where it was deposited were once secured " I say," remonstrated Squeers, looking -she was entitled to property which, if the uneasily round; " don't call it that-just as existence of this deed ever became known a favour, don't." to her, would make her husband (and " Call it what you like," said Ralph, ir- Ralph represented that Nicholas was cerritably, "but attend to me. This tale was tain to marry her) a rich and prosperous originally fabricated as a means of deep man, and most formidable enemy. annoyance against one who hurt your trade Thirdly, that this deed had been, with' and half cudgelled you to death, and to others, stolen from one who had himself enable you to obtain repossession of a half- obtained or concealed it fraudulently, and dead drudge, whom you wished to regain, who feared to take any steps for itg reiecause while you wreaked your vengeance covery; and that he (Ralph) knew the on him for his share in the business, you thief. knew that the knowledge that he was again To all this, Mr. Squeers listened with in yclr power would be the best punish- greedy ears that devoured every syl able, meln' you could inflict upon your enemy. and with his one eye and his mouth wide Is tEnat so, Mr. Squeers?" open: marvelling for what special reason "Why, sir," returned Squeers, almost he was honoured with so much of Ralph's overpowered by the determination which confidence, and to what it all tended. Ralph displayed to make everything tell "Now," said Ralph, leaning forward, against him, and by his stern unyielding and placing his hand on Squeers's armn, manner, "in a measure it was." "hear the design which I have conceivea, "What does that mean I" said Ralph, and which I' must — I say, must, if I can aiUtlv ripen it-have carried into execution. No 364 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. advantage can be reaped from this deed, rience of Mr. Squeers, wl. ich woutl make whatever it is, save by the girl herself, or his overreaching one old woman a mere her husband, and the possession of this matter of child's play and amusement. In deed by one or other of them is indis- addition to these influences and persuasions, pensable to any advantage being,, gaihed. Ralph drew with his utmost skill and pow. That I have discovered beyond the possi- er, a vivid picture of the defeat which Mi bility of doubt. I want that deed rought cholas would sustain should they succeed, here, that I may githe, mnan who brings in linking. himself to a beggar where he it fifts pounds in gold, and burn it to ashes expected to wed an heiress-glanced at before his face." the immeasurable importance it must be to Mr. Squeers after fll'owing with his a man situated as Squeers, to preserve such eye the action of Ralph's hand towards a friend as himself-dwelt on a long train the fire-place as if he were at that moment of benefits conferred since, their first accensuming the paper, drew a long breath, quaintance, when he had reported favouraOidsaid — bly of his treatment of a sickly boy who "Ye~; but who's to bring it " had died under his hands (and whose death "Nobody, perhaps, for much is to be was very convenient to Ralph and his clidone before it can be got at," said Ralph. ents, but this he did not say,) and finally But if anybody-you." hinted that the fifty pounds might be in. Mr. Squeers's first tokens of consterna- creased to seventy-five, or in the event of tion, and his flat relinquishment of the very great success, even to a hundred. task, would have staggered most men, if These arguments at length concluded they had not occasioned an utter abandon- Mr. Squeers crossed his legs and uncrossed ment of the proposition. On Ralph they them, and scratched his head, and rubbed produced not the slightest effect. Resum- his eye, and examined the palms of his ing when the schoolmaster had quite talk- hands, and bit his nails, and after exhibiting ed himself out of breath, as coolly as if he many other signs of restlessness and inde. had never been interrupted, Ralph proceed- cision, asked " Whether one hundred pound ed to expatiate on such features of the was the highest that Mr. Nickleby could case as he deemed it most advisable to lay go." Being answered in the affirmative, the greatest stress upon. he became restless again, aund after some These were, the age, decrepitude, and thought, and an unsuccessful inquiry " wheo. weakness of Mrs. SlI.derskew, the great im- ther he couldn't go another fifty," said he probability of her having any accomplice supposed he must try and do the most he or even acquaintance, taking into account could for a friend, which was always his her sec.uded habits, and her long residence maxim, and therefore he undertook the job. in such a house as Gride's; the strong "But how are you to get at the woman'" reason there was to suppose that the rob- he said; " that what it is as puzzles me." bery was not the result of a concerted plan, may not get at her at all," replie otherwise she would have watched an op. Ralph, "but I'11 try. 1 have hunted down portunity of carrying off a sum of money, or people in this city before now who have even of her being in want (to which the been better hid than she, and I know quar. same argument applied); the difficulty she ters in which a guinea or two carefully would be placed in when she began to think spent will often solve darker riddles than on what she had done, and found herself this-ay, and keep them close too, if need ineumbered with documents of whose na- this-ay, and keep them close too, if needt ncumbered waith documents of whose na- be. I hear my man ringing at the door. ture she was utterly ignorant; and the com- We may as well part. You had better not parative ease with which somebody, with come to and fro, but ou hear fom come to and fro, but wait till you hear from a fu.1 knowledge of her position, obtain- me." ing access to her and working upon her fears, if necessary, might worm himself into "Good!" returned Squeers. "I say, if her confidence, and obtain, under one pre- you shouldn't find her out, you'll pay ex tence or another, free possession of the deed. penses at the Saracen, and something for To these were added such considerations as loss of'time." the constant residence of Mr. Squeers at a " Well," said Ralph, testily; "yes. Yoi long distance from London, which rendered have nothing more to say?" his association with Mrs. Sliderskew a mere Squeers, shaking his head, Ralph accom. masquerading frolic, in which nobody was panied him to the street-door, and audibly likely to recognise him either at the time wondering, for the edification of Newman. or afterwards; the:'mpossibility of Ralph's why it was fastened as if it were night, let undertakinIg the task himself, being already him in and Squeers out, and returned to his known to her by sight, and variotis com- iwn room. meatts upon the uncommon tact and expe- "Now!' hfe muttered, doggedly "Cona NICHOLAS NICKiEBY. 365 wvhat tome may, for the present I am firm dear to his heart as I know it must be. Lets and unshaken. Let me but retrieve this me but do this, and it shall be the first link one small portion of my loss and disgrace. in such a chain, which I will wind about Let me but defeat him in this one hope, him, as never man forged yet." CHAPTER LVII. HOW RALPH NICKLEBY'S AUXILIARY WENT ABOUT HIS WORI AND HOW HE( PROSPERED WITH IT. IT was a dark, wet, gloomy night in au- Mr. Squeers continued to look disconet. tumn, when in an upper room of a mean lately about him, and to listen to these house, situated in an obscure street or ra- noises in profound silence, broken only by ther court near Lambeth, there sat all alone, the rustling of his large coat, as he now a one-eyed man grotesquely habited, either and then moved his arm to raise his glass for lack of better garments or for purposes to his lips - Mr. Squeers continued to do of disguise, in a loose great-coat, with arms this for some time, until the increasing half as long again as his own, and a capa- gloom warned him to snuff the candle. city of breadth and length which would Seeming to be slightly roused by this exerhave admitted of his winding himself in it, tion, he raised his eyes to the ceiling, and head anrd all, with the utmost ease, and fixing them upon some uncouth and fan without any risk of straining the old and tastic figures, traced upon it by the wet greasy material of which it was composed. and damp which had penetrated through the So attired, and in a place so far removed roof, broke out into the following soliloquy: from his usual haunts and occupations, and "Well, this is a pretty go, is this here! so very poor and wretched in its character, -an uncommon pretty go! Here have I perhaps Mrs. Squeers, herself, would have been a matter of how maany weeks -hard had some difficulty in recognising her lord, upon six a-follering up this here blesed quickened though her natural sagacity old dowager, petty larcenerer," — Mr. doubtless u A id have been by the affection- Squeers delivered himself of this epithet ate yearnings and impulses of a tender wife. with great difficulty and effort-" and But Mrs. Squeers's lord it was; and in a Dotheboys Hall a-running itself regularly tolerably disconsolate mood Mrs. Squeers's to seed the while! That's the worst of lord appeared to be, as, helping himself ever being in with a ow-dacious chap like from a black bottle which stood on the ta- that old Nickleby; you never know when ble beside him, he cast round the chamber he's done with you, and if you're in for a a look, in which very slight regard for the penny, you're in for a pound." objects within view was plainly mingled Tnis remark perhaps reminded Mr. with some regretful and impatient recollec- Squeers that he was in for a hundred tion of distant scenes and persons. pound; at any rate, his countenance reThere were certainly no particular at- laxed, and he raised his glass to his mouth tractions, either in the room over which with an air of greater enjovment of its the glance of Mr. Squeers so discontentedly contents than he had before evinced. wandered, or tn the narrow street into "I never see," soliloquised Mr. Squeers which it might have penetrated, if he had in continuation, "'I never see nor come thought fit to r pploach the window. The across such a file as that old Nicklebyattic-chamber in which he sat was bare and never. He's out of everybody's depth, ihe mean; the bedstead and such few other ar- is. He's what you may a-call a rasper, is ticles of necessary furniture as it contained, Nickleby. To see how sly and cunning of the commonest description, in a most he grubbed on, day after day, a-worming mrazy state, and of a most uninviting ap- and plodding and tracing and turning an;. pearance. The street was muddy, dirty, twining of hisself about, till he found out and deserted. Ha-,ing but one outlet, it where this precious Mrs. Peg was hid, and was traversed by few but the inhabitants cleared the ground for me to work upon — at any time, and the night being one of creeping and crawling and gliding, like a those on which most people are glad to be ugly old, bright-eyed, stagnation-blooded within doors, it now presented no other adder! Ah! He'd have made a good un signs of life than the dull glimmering of in our line, but it would have been too poor. candles from the dirty windows, and | limited for him; his genius would have few sounds but the pattering of the rain, busted all bounds, and coming over every aid occasionally tile heavy closing of smre obstacle, broke- down all before it.'till ix creaking door. i erected itself into a monneyment of -V ell 366 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY ['II think of the rest, and say it when con-, self in spirits. Mrs. Squeers, my dear wenient." your health." Making a halt in his reflections at this Leering with his one eye as if the lady place, Mr. Squeers again put his glass to to whom he drank had been actually prehis lips, and drawing a dirty letter from sent, Mr. Squeers- in his enthusiasm, no his pocket, proceeded to con over its con- doubt-poured out a full glass, and emptied tents with the airef a man who had read it; and as the liquor was raw spirits, and it very often, and wrow refreshed his me- he had applied himself to the samle bottle mnry rather in the absence of better amuse- more than once already, it is not surprising ment than for any specific information. that he found himself by this time in an "The pigs is well," said Mr. Squeers, extremely cheerful state, and quite enough'the cows is well, and the boys is bobbish. excited for his purpose. Young Sprouter has been a-winking, has What his purpose was, soon appeared, he. I'll wink him when I get back.'Cob- for, after a few turns about the room to bey would persist in sniffinog while he was steady himself, he took the bottle under his a-eating his dinner, and said that the beef arm and the glass in his hand, and blowing was so strong it made him.' —Very good, out the candle as if he purposed being gone Cobbey, we'l. see if we can't make you some time, stole out upon the staircase, and sniff a little without beef.' Pitcher was creeping softly to a door opposite his own,.took with another fever,' —of course he tapped gently at it. was-' and being fetched by his friends, "But what's the use of tapping?" he died the day after he got home,'-of course said, "she'11 never hear. I suppose she he did, and out of aggravation; it's part is n't doing anything very particular, and of a deep-laid system. There an't another if she is, it do n't much matter that I see." chap in the school but that boy as would With this brief preface, Mr. Squeers ap. have died exactly at the end of the quar- plied his hand to the latch of the door, and ter, taking it out of me to the very last, thrusting his head into a garret far mcre ar.d then carrying his spite to the utmost deplorable than that he had just left, anci extremity.'The juniorest Palmer said he seeing that there was nobody there but an wished he was in Heaven,' —I really do n't old woman, who was bending over a wretch know, I do not know what's to be done ed fire (for although the weather was stilh with that young fellow; he's always a- warm, the evening was chilly), walked in. wishing something horrid. He said once and tapped her on the shoulder. he wished he was a donkey, because then " Well, my Slider," said Mir. Squeera, he would n't have a father as did n't love jocularly. him!- pretty wicious that, for a child of "Is that you 1" inquired Peg. six!" "Ah! it's me, and me's the first person Mr. Squeers was so much moved by the singular, nominative case, agreeing with contemplation of this hardened nature in the verb'it's,' and governed by Squeers one so young, that he angrily put up the understood, as a acorn, a hour; but when letter, and sought, in a new train of ideas, the h is sounded, the a only is to be used, a subject of consolation. as a hand, a heart, a highway," replied "'lt's a long time to have been a-linger- Mr. Squeers, quoting at rand(lo from the Img in London," he said, "and this is a grammar, "fat least if it isn't, you don't precious hole to come and live in, even if know any better, and if it is, I've done it it has been only for a week or so. Still, accidentally." one hundred pound is five boys, and five Delivering this reply in his accustomed boys takes a whole year to pay one hun- tone of voice, in which of course it was indred pound, and there's their keep to be audible to Peg, Mr. Squeers drew a stal substracted, besides. There's nothinglost, up to the fire. and placing himself over neither, by one's being here; because the against her, and the bottle and glass an the boys' money comes in just the same as if I floor between them, roared out again verv was at home, and Mrs. Squeers she keeps loud, them in order. There'll be some lost time "Well, my Slider." to make up, of course —there'll be an "I hear you," said Peg, receiving him arrear of flogging as'11 have to be gone very graciously. through; still, a couple of days makes that "I've come according to promise," roared all right, and one don't mind a little extra Squeers. Work for one hundred pound. It's pretty "So they used to say ir. that part of the'ligh the time to wait upon the old woman. i country I come from," observed Peg. con. From what she said last night, I suspect placently, "but I think oil's better." that if'm to succeed at all, I shall suc- "Better than what?" shouted Squeers need to-night, so I'11 Lave half a glass adding some rather strong language in aD more to wish myself success, and put my-, under-tone. NICHOLAS NICICLEBY 36 "~No," smid Pep,, "cf course not." Mr. Squeers concluded by helping himself "I never saw such a monster as you and passing the bottle, to which Peg did are!" muttered Squeers, looking as amiable becoming reverence. as he possibly could the while; for Peg's "That's the time of day!" said Mr. eye was upon him, and she was chuckling Squeers. "You look twenty pound ten fearfully, as though in delight at having better than you did." made a choice repartee. "Do you see Again Mrs. Sliderskew chuckled, but this. this is a bottle." modesty forbade her assenting verbally. o "I see it," answered Peg. the compliment. "Well, and do you see this?" bawled,"Twenty pound ten better," repeated Squeers. "This is a glass!" Peg saw Mr. Squeers, " than you did that day when that too. I first introduced myself-don't you know "' "See here, then," said Squeers, accom- "Ah!" said Peg, shaking her head, panying his remarks with appropriate ac- "but you frightened me that day. tion, "I fill the glass from the bottle. and "Did It" said Squeers, " well. was I say,'your health, Slider,' and empty it; rather a startling thing for a stranger to then I rinse it genteelly with a little drop, come and recommend himself by saying which I'm forced to throw into the fire- that he knew all about you, and what your Hallo! we shall have the chimbley alight name was, and why you were living so next —fill it again, and hand it over to you." quiet here, and what you had boned, and " Your health," said Peg. who you boned it from, wasn't it?" " She understands that, anyways," mut- Peg nodded her head in strong assent tered Squeers, watching Mrs. Sliderskew " But I know everything tliat happens as she despatched her portion, and choked in that way, you see," continued Squeers. and gasped in a most awful manner after " Nothing takes place of that kind that I so doing; "now then, let's have a talk. an't up to entirely. I'm a sortof a lawyer, How's tie rheumatics 1"' Slider, of first-rate standing, and under. Mrs. Sliderskew, with much blinking standing too; I'm the intimate friend and and chuckling, and with looks expressive confidential adwiser of pretty nigh every of her strong admiration of Mr. Squeers, man, woman, and child, that gets them. his person, manners, and conversation, re- selves into difficulties by being too nimble plied that the rheumatics were better. with their fingers, I'm " "' What's the reason," said Mr. Squeers, Mr. Squeers's catalogue of his own deriving fresh facetiousness from the bot- merits and accomplishments, which was tle; " what's the reason of rheumatics, partly the result of a concerted plan bewhat do they mean, what do people have tween himself and Ralph Nickleby, and'em for-eh." flowed, in part, from the black bottle, was Mrs. Sliderskew didn't know, but sug- here interrupted by Mrs. Sliderskew. gested that it was possibly because they "Ha, ha, ha!" she cried, folding her couldn't help it. arms and wagging her head; "and so he "'Measles, rheumatics, hooping-cough, wasn't married after all, wasn't he - not fevers, agues, and lumbagers," said Mr. married after al?" Squeers, " is all philosophy together, that's "No," replied Squeers, " that he wasn't!" what it is. The heavenly bodies is philo- " And a young lover come and carried sophy, and the'earthly bodies is philosophy. off the bride, eh!" said Peg. If there's a screw loose in a heavenly "From under his very nose," replied body, that's philosophy, and if there's a Squeers; 1" and Ir'm told tne young chap screw loose in'a earthly body, that's philo- cut up rough besides, and broke the win. sophy too; or it may be that sometimes ders, and forced him to swaller his wedding.here's a little metaphysics in it, but that's favour, which nearly choked him." not often. Philosophy's the chap for me. "Tell me all about it again," cried Peg If a parent asks a question in the classical, with a malicious relish of her old master's eommercial, or mathematical line, says I, defeat, -which made her natural hideousness gravely,' Why, sir, in the first place, are something quite fearful; " let's hear it all you a philosopher'- -'No, Mr. Squeers,' again, beginning at the beginning now as he says,'I an't.''Then, sir,' says 1,'I if you'd never told me. Let's have it am sorry for you, for I shan't be able to every word-now-now-beginning at the explain it.' Naturally the parent goes very first, you know, when he went to the. away and wishes he was a philosopher, and house that morning." equally naturally, thinks I'm one." Mr. Squeers, plying Mrs. Sliderskew Saying this and a great deal more with freely with the liquor, and sustaining'him. tipsy profundity and a serin-comic air, and self under the exertion of speaking so loud keeping his eye all the time on Mrs. Sli- by frequent applications to it himself, con}Aerske w. who was unabl, to hear one word, plied with this request by describing ten 368 NI C HOLAS- NICK LEBY. discomfiturc of Arthur Gride, with such i had only been joking, and in proot of Lis improvements on the truth as happened to unimpaired good humour, that he was,eadv occur to him, and the ingenious invention to examine the deeds at once, if, by so dot and application of which had been very in- ing, he could afford any satisfaction or restrumental in recommending him to her lief of mind to his fair friend. notice in the beginning of her acquaintance. "And now you're up, my Slider," bawled Mrs. Sliderskew was in Ian ecstasy of de- Squeers, as she rose to fetch them, "bo0t light, rolling her head about, drawing up the door." her skinny shoulders, and wrinkling her Peg trotted to the door, and after fumn cadaverous shoulders into so many and such bling at the bolt, crept to the other end of complicated forms of ugliness, as awakened the room, and from beneath the coals which the unbounded astonishment and disgust filled the bottom of the cupboard, drew even of Mr. Squeers. forth a small deal box. Having placed this "lie's a treacherous old goat," said Peg, on the floor at Squeers's feet, she brought ".and cozened me with cunning, tricks and from under the pillow of her bed, a small lying promises, but never mind-I'm even key, with which she signed to that gentlewith him-I'm even with him." man to open it. Mr. Squeers, who had "More than even, Slider," returned eagerly followed her every motion, lost no Squeers; "you'd have been even with him time in obeying this hint, and throwing if he'd got married, but with the disap- backl the lid, gazed with rapture on the pointment besides, you're a long waya-head documents which lay within. — out of sight, Slider, quite out of sight. "Now you see," said Peg, kneeling down And that reminds me," he added, handing on the floor beside him, and staying his her the glass, " if you want me to give you impatient hand, " what's of no use we'll,my opinion of them deeds, and tell you burn, what we can get any money by we'll what you'd better keep and what you'd keep, and if there's any we could get him better burn, why, now's your time, Slider." into trouble by, and fret and waste away "There an't no hurry for that," said his heart to shreds, those we'll take par. Peg, with several knowing looks and, winks. ticular care of, for that's what I want to do "Oh! very well!" observed Squeers, and hoped to do, when I left him." u it don't matter to me; you asked me, you "I thought," said Squeers, "that you know. I shouldn't charge you nothing, didn't bear him any particular good-will. being a friend. You're the best judge of But I say, why didn't you take some money course, but you're a bold woman, Slider- besides Y" that's all."'Some what?" asked Peg. "How do you mean-bold?" said Peg. "Some money," roared Squeers.'I do "Why, I only mean that if it was me, I believe the woman hears me, and wants to wouldn't keep papers as might hang me, make me break a wessel, so that she may littering about when they might be turned have the pleasure of nursing me. Some into money; them as wasn't useful made money, Slider-money." away with, and them as was, laid by some- "Why, what a man you are to ask!" wheres safe, that's all," returned Squeers; cried Peg, with some contempt. " If I had "but everybody's the best judge of their taken money from Arthur Gride, he'd have awn affairs. All as I say is, Slider, I scoured the whole earth to. find me-ay, wouldn't do it." and he'd have smelt it out, and raked it up "Come," said Peg, "then you shall see somehow if I had buried it at the bottom'em." of the deepest well in England. No, no! "' don't want to see'em," replied I knew better than that. I took what I Nqueers, affecting to be out of humour, thought his secrets were hid in, and them "don't talk as if it was a treat. Show'em he couldn't afford to make public, let'era to somebody else and take their advice." be worth ever so much money. He's an Mr. Squeers would very likely have car- old dog, a sly, old, cunning, thankless dog. ried on the farce of being offended a little He first starved and then tricked me, and longer, if Mrs. Sliderskew, in her anxiety if I could, I'd kill him." *t restore herself to her former high po- "All right, and very laudable," said s!tion in his good graces, had not become Squeers. "But first and foremost, Slider, so extremely affectionate that he stood at burn the box. You should never keep some risk of being smothered by her ca- things as may lead to discovery - always resses. Repressing, with as good a grace mind that. So while you pull it to pieces as possible, these little familiarities —for (which you can easily do, for it's very old which there is reason to believe that the and rickety) and burn it in little bits, I'll black bottle was at least as much to blame look over the papers and tell you what *a any constitutional infirmity on the part they are." i. Mrs. Sliderskew-he protested that he Peg, expressing her acquiescence in txia NIC HOLAS - NICKLEiBl 369 arrangement, Mr. Squeers turned the box master that, by leaning suightly ferward, bottom upwards, and tumbling the contents he could plainly distinguish the writing upon the floor, handed it to her; the de- which he held up to his eye. Atruction of the box being an extemporary Mr. Squeers not being remarkably eru. device for engaging her attention, in -case dite, appeared to be considerably puzzled it should prove desirable to distract it from by. this first prize, which was in an engross. his own proceedings. ing hand, and not very legible except to a "There," said Squeers, " you poke the practised eye. Having tried it by reading pieces between the bars, and make up a from left to right and from right to left, and good fire, and I'll read the while-let me finding it equally clear both ways, he turn. see-let me see." And taking the candle ed it upside down with no better success. down beside him, Mr. Squeers, with great "Ha, ha, ha!" chuckled Peg, who, on eagerness and a cunning grin overspreading her knees before the fire, was feeding it his face, entered upon his task of exami- with fragments of the box, and grinning in nation. most devilish exultation. "What's that If the old woman had not been very deaf, writing about, eh?" she must have heard, when she last went "Nothing particular," replied Squeers, to the door, the breathing of two persons tossing it towards her.: "It's only an old close behind it, and if those two persons lease, as well as I can make out. Throw had been unacquainted with her infirmity it in the fire." they must probably have chosen that mo- Mrs. Sliderskew complied, and inquired ment either for presenting themselves or what the next one was. taking to flight. But, knowing with whom " This," said Squeers, " is a bundle of they had to deal, they remained quite still, over-due acceptances and renewed bills of and now, not only appeared unobserved at six or eight young gentlemen, but they're the door — which was not bolted, for the all M.P's., so it's of no use to anybody. Dolt had no hasp —but warily, and with Throw it in the fire." noiseless footsteps, advanced into the room. Peg did as she was bidden, and waited As they stole further and further in by for the next. slight and scarcely perceptible degrees, and "I This," said Squeers, " seems to be some with such caution that they scarcely seemed deed of sale of the rigcht of presentation to breathe, the old hag and Squeers little to the rectory of Purechurch, in the valley dreaming of any such invasion, and utterly of Cashup. Take care of that, Slider — unconscious of there being any soul near literally for God's sake. It'll fetch its but themselves, were busily occupied with price at the Auction Mart." their tasks. The old woman with her "What's the next " inquired Peg. wrinkled face close to the bars of the stove, "Why, this," said Squeers, "seems, from puffing at the dull embers which had not the two letters that's with it, to be a bond yet caught the wood —Squeers stooping from a curate down in the country to pay down to the candle, which brought out the half-a-year's wages of forty pound for bor full uglinesS'of his face, as the light of the rowing twenty. Take care of that, for if fire did that of his companion-both intently he don't pay it, his bishop will very soot engaged, and wearing faces of exultation be down upon him. We know what the which contrasted strongly with the anxious camel and the needle's eye means-no man ooks of those behind, who took advantage as can't live upon his income, whatever it of the slightest sound to cover their advance, is, must expect to go to heaven at any price and almost before they had moved an inch, -it's very odd. I don't see anything like and all was silent, stopped again —this, it yet." with the large bare room, damp walls, and "What's the matter!" said Peg. flickering doubtful light, combined to form "Nothing," replied Saueers, " only I'a a scene which the most careless and indif- looking for-" ferent spectator-could any have been pre- Newman raised the bellows again, and sent-could scarcely have failed to derive once more Frank, by a rapid motion of his some interest from, and would not readily arm, unaccompanied by any noise, checked have forgotten. him in his purpose. Of the stealthy comers Frank Cheeryble "Here you are," said Squeers, " bondswas one, Newman Noggs the other. New- take care of them. Warrant of attorney man had caught up by the rusty nozzle an -take care of that. Two cognovits-take old pair of bellows, which were just under- care of them. Lease and release-burnthat. going a flourish in the air preparatory to a Ah! Madeline Bray-come of age or marry descent upon the head of Mr. Squeers, -the said Matteline -Here, burn that." when Frank, with an earnest gesture, stay- Eagerly throwing towards the old womab ed his arm, and taking another step in ad- a parchment that he caught up fol the purvance, came so close behind the school- pose, Squeere, as she turned ]her heads 37)0 NICHOLAS NiCKLEBY. thrust into the breast of his large coat, the Peg demanded what 1st laughed at, but deed in which these words had caught his no answer was returned, for Newman's eye, and burst into a shout of triumph. arm couild no longer be restrained; the "I've got it!" said Squeers. "I've got bellows descending heavily and with unit. Hurrah! The plan was a good one, erring aim on the very centre of Mr. though the chance was desperate, and the Squeers's head, felled him to the floor, am day's our own at last!" stretched him on it flat and senseless. CHAPTER LVIII. IN WHICH ONE SCENE OF THIS HISTORY IS CLCSED. DiVIDING the distance into two days' conversation afterwards, Nicholas made lourney, in order that his charge might such spots the scenes of their daily ram. sustain the less exhaustion and fatigue from bles: driving him from place to place in & travelling so far, Nicholas, at the end of the little pony-chair, and supporting him on his second day from their leaving home, found arm while they walked slowly among these himself within a very few miles of the spot old haunts, or lingered in the sunlight to where the happiest years of his life had take long parting looks of those which been passed, and which, while it filled his were most quiet and beautiful. mind with pleasant and peaceful thoughts, It was on such occasions as these, that brought back many painful and vivid recol- Nicholas, yielding almost unconsciously to lections of the circumstances in which he the interest of old associations, would point and his had wandered forth from their old out some tree that he had climbed a hun. home, cast upon the rough world and the dred times to peep at the young birds in mercy of strangers. their nest, and the branch from which he It needed no such reflections as those used to shout to little Kate, who stood be. which the memory of old days, and wan- low terrified at the height he had gained, derings among scenes where our childhood and yet urging him higher still by the has been passed, usually awaken in the intensity of her admiration. There was most insensible minds, to soften the heart the old house too, which they would pass of Nicholas, and render him more than every day, looking up at the tiny window usually mindful of his drooping friend. By through which the sun used to stream in night and day, at all times and seasons, al- and wake him on the summer morningsways watchful, attentive, and solicitous, they were all summer mornings then-and and never varying in the discharge of his climbing up the garden-wall and looking self-imposed duty to one so friendless and over, Nicholas could see the very rose-bush helpless as he whose sands of life were now which had come a present to Kate from fast running out and dwindling rapidly some little lover and she had planted with away, he was ever at his side. He never her own hands. There were the hedge. left nim; to encourage and animate him, rows where the brother and sister had so administer to his wants, support and cheer j often gathered wild flowers together, and him to the utmost of his power, was now the green fields and shady paths where nis constant and unceasing occupation. they had so often strayed. There was not They procured a humble lodging in a a lane, or brook, or copse, or cottage near, sma'. farm-house, surrounded by meadows, with which some childish event was not where Nicholas had often revelled when a entwined, and back it came upon the mind child with a troop of merry schoolfellows; as events of childhood do — nothing in and here they took up their rest. I itself: perhaps a word, a laugh, a look, At first, Smike was strong enough to' some slight distress, a passing thought or walk about for short dWstances at a time, fear —and yet more strongly and distinctly with no other suppor' or aid than that marked, and better far remembered, than which: Nicholas could afford him. At this the hardest trials or severest sorrows of time, nothing appeared to interest him so but a year ago. much as visiting those places which had One of these expeditions led them through been nlost familiar to his friend in bygone the churchyard where was his father's days. Yielding to this fancy, and pleased grave. 1" Even here," said Nicholas, softly, to find that its indulgence beguiled the sick " we used to. loiter before we knew what bav of many tedi-us hours, and never fail- death was, and wlien we little thought i. to afford him matter for thought and who'e ashes would rest beneath. on NICHOLAS NI CKLEBY, 371 dering at the silence, sit down to rest and scream, and star:ing up in that kind of speak oelow our breath. Once Kate was terror which affects a peison suddenly lost, and after an hour of fruitless search, roused, saw to his great astonishment that they found her fast asleep under that tree his charge had struggled into a sitting pos. which shades my father's grave. He was ture, and with eyes almost starting from very fond of her, and said when he took their sockets, the cold dew standing on her up in his arms, still sleeping, that his forehead, and in a fit of trembling whenever he died he would wish to be which quite convulsed his frame, was buried where his dear little child had laid shrieking to him for help. her head. You see his wish was not for- "Good Heaven, what is this!" cried gotten." Nicholas, bending over him. "Be calm Nothing more passed at the time, but you have been dreaming." that night, as Nicholas sat beside his bed, "No, no, no!" cried Smike, clinging tc.Smike started up from what had seemed him. "Hold me tight. Don't let me go. to be a slumber, and laying his hand in his, There-there-behind the tree!" prayed, as the tears coursed down his face, Nicholas followed his eyes, which were that he would make him one solemn pro- directed to some distance behind the chair niise. from which he himself had just risen. " What is that?" said Nicholas, kindly. But there was nothing there. " If I can redeem it, or hope to do so, you "This is nothing but your fancy," he know I will." said, as he strove to compose him; "no"I am sure you will," was the reply. thing else indeed." "Promise me that when I die, I shall be "I know better. I saw as plain as I buried near-as near as they can make my see now," was the answer. "Oh! say grave-to the tree we saw to-day." you'll keep me with you-swear you won't Nicholas gave the promise; he had few leave me for an instant!" words to give it in, but they were solemn s "Do I ever leave you?" returned Nich. and earnest. His poor friend kept his hand olas. " Lie down again now —there. You in his, and turned as if to sleep. But there see I'm here. Now tell me — what was were stifled sobs; and the hand was press- it?" ed more than once, or twice, or thrice, " Do you remember," said Smike, in a before he sank to rest, and slowly loosed low voice, and glancing fearfully round, his hold. "do you remember my telling you of the In a fortnight's time, he became too ill man who first took me to the school." to move about Once or twice Nicholas "Yes, surely." drove him out, propped up with pillows, "I raised my eyes just now towards that but the motion of the chaise was painful tree —that one with the thick trunk — to him, and brought on fits of fainting, and there, with his eyes fixed on me, he which, in his weakened state, were dan- stood." gerous. There was an old couch in the " Only reflect for one moment," said Ni, house which was his favourite resting-place cholas; "granting for an instant that it's by day; when the sun shone, and the likely he is alive and wandering about a weather was warm, Nicholas had this lonely place like this, so far removed from wheeled into a little orchard which was the public road, do you think that at this close at hand, and his charge being well distance of time you could possibly know wrapt up and carried out to it, they used that man again " to sit there sometimes for hours together. " Anywhere - in any dress," returned It was on one of these occasions that a Smike; "but just now, he stood leaning circumstance took place, which Nicholas upon his stick and looking at me, exactly at the time thoroughly believed to be the as I told you I remembered him. He was mere delusion of an imagination affected dusty with walking, and poorly dressed-Iby disease, but which he had afterwards think his clothes were ragged-but directtoo good reason to know was of real and ly I saw him, the wet night, his face when actual occurrence. he left me, the parlour I was left in, and He had brought Smike out in his arms the people that were there, all seemed tu -poor fellow! a child might have carried come back together. When he knew I him then- to see the sunset, and, having saw him, he looked frightened, for he start arranged his couch, had taken his seat be- ed and shrurnk away. I have thought of side it. He had been watching the whole him by day, and dreamt of him by night of the night before, and being greatly He looked in my sleep when I was quite a fatigued both in mind and body, gradually little child, and has looked in my sleep evei el! asleep. since, as he did just now." He could not have closed his eyes five Nicholas endeavoured, by every persua minutes, w hen he'was awakened oy a sion and argument he could think of. to c06 372 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. vince the terrified'reature that his imagina- told me we shall meet again —so very often tion had deceived him, and that this close lately, and now I feel the truth of that so resemblance between the creation of his strongly-that I can even bear to part from dreams and the man he supposed he had you." seen was but a proof of it.: but all in vain. The trembling voice and tearful eye, an] When he could persuade him to remain for the closer grasp of the arm which accom. a few moments in the care of the people panied these latter words, showed how they to whom the house belonged, he instituted filled the speaker's heart; nor were there a quick inquiry whether any stranger had wanting indications of how deeply they had been seen, and searched himself behind the touched the heart of him to whom they tree, and through the orchard, and upon the were addressed. land immediately adjoining, and in every 1" You say well," returned Nicholas at place near, where it was possible for a man length, "and comfort me very much, dear to lie concealed, but all in vain. Satisfied fellow. Let'me hear you say you are hapthat he was right in his original conjecture, py, if you can." he ultimately applied himself to calming "I must tell you something first. I.the fears of Smike, which after some time should not have a secret from you. You he partially succeeded in doing, though not would not blame me at a time like this, I in removing the impression upon his mind, know." for he still-declared again and again in the "I blame you!" exclaimed Nicholas. most solemn and fervid manner, that he had " I am sure you would not. You asked positively seen what he described, and that me why I was so changed, and-and sat so nothing could ever remove his firm convic- much alone. Shall I tell you why?" tion of its reality. 4" Not if it pains you," said Nicholas. And now Nicholas began to see that only asked that I might make you happier hope was gone, and that upon the partner if I could." of his poverty, and the sharer of his better "I know-I felt that at the time." He fortune, the world was closing fast. There drew his friend closer to him. "You will was little pain, little uneasiness, but there forgive me; I could not help it, but though was no rallying, no effobrt, no struggle for I would have died to make her happy, it life. He was worn and wasted to the last broke my heart to see - broke my heart to see —I know he loves degree; his voice had sunk:so low, that he her dearly - Oh who could find that out could scarce be heard to speak. Nature so soon as I!" was thoroughly exhausted, and he had lain him down to die. Tlie words which followed were feebly On a fine, mild autumn day, when all and faintly uttered, and broken by long wnas tranquil and at peace. when the soft pauses; but from them Nicholas learnt, for sweet air crept in at the open window of the first time, that the dying boy, with aft the quiet room, and not a sound was heard the ardour of a nature concentrated on one but the gentle rustling of the leaves, Nich- absorbing, hopeless, secret passion, loved olas sat in his old place by the bedside, and his sister Kate. knew that the time was nearly come. So He had procured a lock of her hair, very still it was, that every now and then which hung at his breast, folded' in one o, he bent down his ear to listen for the two slight ribands she had worn. ""He breathing of him who lay asleep, as if to prayed that when he was dead, Nicholas assure himself that life was still there, and would take it off, so that no eyes but his that he had not fallen into that deep slum- might see it, and that when he was laid in ber from which on earth there is no waking. his coffin and about to be placed in the While he was thus employed, the closed earth, he would hang it round his neck eyes opened, and on the pale face there again, that it might rest with him in the came a placid smile. grave. ",That's well," said Nicholas. " The Upon his knees Nicholas gave him this dleep has done you good." pledge, and p-omised again that he should "I have had such pleasant dreams," was rest in th(c spot he had pointed out. They the answer. "Such pleasant, happy dreams!" einnracd, ard kissed each other on che "Of what?" said Nicholas. cheek. The dying boy turned towards him, and "N1ow," he mnurmured, "I am happy " putting his arm about his ndck, made an- He fell into a. slight slumber, and waitswer, "I sha.1 soon be there!" ing, smiled as before; then spoke of beauAfter a short silence, he spoke again. tiful gardens, which he said stretched out "I am not afraid to die," he said, " I am before him, and were filled with figures of quite contented. I almost think that if I men, women, and many children, all with could rise from this bed quite well, I would light upon thei.r faces; then whispered that tot wish to do, so now. You have so often I it was Eden-and P'died. NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 373 CHAPTER LIX. THE PLOTS BEGIN TO FAIL,. AND DOUBTS AND DANGERS TO DISTURB TfIE PLOTTER RALPH sat alone in the solitary room him away! I would give something now, where he was accustomed to take his meals, something in money even after that dreadand to sit )f nights when no profitable oc- ful loss, if he had stabbed a man in a cupation called him abroad; before hinm tavern scuffle, or broken into a house, oT was an untasted breakfast, and near to picked a pocket, or done anything that where his fingers beat restlessly upon the would send him abroad with. an iron ring table, lay his watch. It was long past the upon his leg, and rid me of him. Better time at which, for many years, he had put still if I could throw temptation in his way, it in his pocket and gone with measured and lure him on to rob me. He should be steps down stairs to the business of the day, welcome to what he took, so I brought the but he took as little heed of its monotonous law upon him, for he is a traitor, I swear' warning, as of the meat and drink before how or when or where I don't know, though him, and remained with his head resting on I suspect." one hand, and his eyes fixed moodily on the After waiting for another half-hour, he ground. despatched the woman who kept his house This departure from his regular and con- to Newman's lodging, to inquire if he were stant habit in one soregular and unvarying ill, and why he had not come or sent. She in all that appertained to the daily pursuit brought back answer that he had not been of riches, would almost of itself have told home all night, and that no one could tell that the usurer was not well. That he her anything about him. laboured under some mental or bodily indis- "But there is a gentleman, Sir," she position, and that it was one of no slight said, " below, who was standing at the door kind so to affect a man like him, was when I came in, and he says -" sufficiently shown by his haggard face, "What says he!" demanded Ralph, jaded air, and hollow languid eyes, which turning angrily upon her. "I told you I he raised at last with a start and a hasty would see nobody." glance around him, as one who suddenly "He says," replied the womann, abashed awakes from sleep, and cannot immediately by his harshness, "' that he comes on very recognise the place in which he finds him- particular business which admits of no ex. self. cuse, and I thought perhaps it might be "What is this," he said, "that hangs about —— " over me, and I cannot shake off? I have "About what, in the devil's name?" said never pampered myself, and- should not be Ralph hastily. " You spy and speculate ill. I have never moped, and pined, and on people's business with me, do you, yielded to fancies; but what can a man do woman 1" without rest?" "Dear, no, Sir! I saw you were anxious. He pressed his hand upon his forehead. and thought it might be about Mr. Nogg*n "Night after night comes and goes, and that's all." have no rest. If I sleep, what -rest is "Saw I was anxious!" muttered Ralph rhat which is disturbed by constant dreams " they all watch me now. Where is this vf the same detested faces crowding round person! You did not say I was not do ra ne —of the same detested people in every yet, I hope!" variety of action, mingling with -all I say The woman replied that he was in the and do, and always to my defeat? Waking, little office, and that she had said her mina wnat rest have I, constantly haunted by ter was engaged, but she would take the this heavy shadow of-I know not what, message. which is its worst character. I must have "Well," said Ralph, " I'll see him. Go rest. One night's unbroken rest, and I you to your kitchen, and keep there,-do should be a man again." you mind me?" Pushing the table from him while he Glad to be released, the woman quickly spoke, as though he loathed the sight of disappeared. Collecting himself, and as food, he encountered the watch; the hands suming as much of his accustomed mannez af whi ch were almost upon noon. as his utmost resolution could summon,'"This isstrang!" hesaid, "noon, and Ralph descended the stairs, and after No'us not here! w hat drunken brawlkeeps pausing fir a few moments with his band 374 NICHOLAS NICKLEB Y. upon the lock, entered Newman's room, "Shall I go on? " said Mr. Cheerybie. and confionted Mr. Charles Cheeryble. "Oh, by all means, if you please,' rm Of all men alive, this was one of the turned Ralph, drily. " Here are walls to last he would have wished to meet at any speak to, Sir, a desk, and two stools —moil time; but now that he'tecognised in him attentive auditors, and certain not to intelr uoiy the patron and protector of Nicholas, rupt you. Go on, I beg; make my house he would rather have seen a spectre. One yours, and perhaps by the time I return beneficial efibct, however, the encounter from my walk, you will have finished what had upon him. It instantly roused all his you have to say, and will yield me up pos. dormant energies, rekindled in his breast session again." the passions that for many years had found So saying, he buttoned his coat, and an improving home there, called up all his turning into the passage, took down his wrath, hatred, and malice; restored the hat. The old gentleman followed, and sneer to his lip, and the scowl to his brow, was about to speak, when Ralph waved and made him again in all outward ap- him off impatiently, and said: pearance the same Ralph Nickleby that so "Not a word. I tell you, Sir, not a many had bitter cause to remember. word. Virtuous as you are, you are not "Humph," said Ralph, pausing at the an angel yet, to appear in men's houses door. " This is an unexpected favour. Sir." whether they will or no, and pour your "And an unwelcome one," said brother speech into unwilling ears. Preach to the Charles; "an unwelcome one, I know." walls, I tell you-not to me." "Men say you are truth itself, Sir," "I am no angel, Heaven knows," resneered Ralph. "You speak truth now at turned brother Charles, shaking his head, all events, and I'll not contradict you. The " but an erring and imperfect Inan; neverfavour is at least as unwelcome as it is theless, there is one quality which all men unexpected. I can scarcely say more!" have in common with the angels, blessed,"Plainly, Sir -".began brother opportunities of exercising if they willCharles. mercy. It is an errand of mercy that,'Plainly, Sir," interrupted Ralph, "I brings me here. Pray, let me discharge wish this conference to be a short one, and it." to end where it begins. I guess the sub- "I show no mercy," retorted Ralph with ject upon which you are about to speak, a triumphant smile,. "and I ask none. and I'll not hear you. You like plainness, Seek no mercy from me, Sir, in behalf of I believe,-there it is. Here is the door the fellow who has imposed upon yow as you see. Our way lies in very different childish credulity, but let him expect the directions. Take yours I beg of you. and worst that I can do." leave me to pursue mine in quiet." "He ask mercy at your hands!" ex "In quiet!" repeated brother Charles claimed the old merchant, warmly,-" ask mildly, and looking at him with more of it at his, Sir, ask it at his. If you will not pity than reproach. " To pursue his way hear me now when you may, hear me in quiet!" when you must, or anticipate what I would " You will scarcely remain In my house, say, and take measures to prevent our evei I presume, Sir, against my will," said meeting again. Your nephew is a noble Ralph; "or you can scarcely hope to make lad, Sir, an honest, noble lad. What you an impression upon a man who closes his are, Mr. Nickleby, I will not say; buI ears to all that you can say, and is firmly what you have done, I know. Now, Sir, and resolutely determined not to hear when you go about the business in which you." you have been recently engaged, and find "Mr. Nickleby, Sir," returned brother it difficult of pursuing come to me and Charles, no less mildly than before, but my brother Ned, and Tim Linkinwater, tirmly too, " I come here against my will- Sir, and we'll explain it for you —and come sorely and grievously against my will. I soon, or it may be too late, and you may have never been in this house before; and have it explained with a little more roughto speak my mind, Sir, I don't feel at home ness, and a little less delicacy-and never or easy in it, and have no wish ever to be forget, Sir, that I came here this morning here again. You do not guess the subject in mercy to you, and am still ready to tall on which I come to speak to you, you do to you in the same spiritL" not indeed. I am sure of that, or your With these words, uttered with great manner would be a.very different one." emphasis and emotion, brother Charles Ralph glanced keenly at him, but the put on his broad-brimmed hat, and passing ciear eye and open countenance of the Ralph Nickleby without any further re. honest old merchant underwent no change mark, trotted nimbly into the street. Ralph of expression, and met his look witnout re- looked after him, but neither moved nor anve I spoke for some time, whet he broke wiat N ICHOLAS NICK LEBY. 3 0 atmost seemed the silence of stupefaction, "You jade," said Ralph, grinning with by a scornful laugh. rage; " if your husband has been idiot "'TJis," he said, "from its wildness, enough to trust you with his secrets, keel should be another of those dreams that them-keep them, she-devil that ylm are. have so broken my rest of late. In mercy " Not so much his secrets as other to me!-Pho! The old simpleton has people's secrets, perhaps," retorted the gone mad." woman; " not so much his secrets as yours. Although he expressed himself in this -None of your black looks at me. You',d derisive and contemptuous manner, it was want'em all perhaps for another tinW. plain that the more Ralph pondered, the You had better keep'em." more ill at ease he became, and the more "Will you," said Ralph, suppressing him he laboured under some vague anxiety and passion as well as he could, and clutching tlarm, which increased as the time passed her tightly by the wrist: "will you go to on and no tidings of Newman Noggs ap- your husband and tell him that I know he peared. After waiting until late in the is at home, and that I must see him 1 And afternoon, tortured by various apprehen- will you tell me what it is that you and he sions and misgivings, and the recollection mean by this new style of behaviour?" of the warning which his nephew had "No," replied the woman, violently dia given him when they last met, the further engaging herself, " I'I1 do neither." confirmation of which now presented itself "You set me at defiance, do you?" saic in one shape of probabililty now in another, Ralph. and haunted him perpetually, he left home, "Yes," was the answer. " I do." and scarcely knowing why, save that he For an instant Ralph had his hand raised was in a suspicious and agitated mood, Sie- as though he were about to strike her, but took himself to Snawley's house. His checking himself, and nodding his head, and wife presented herself, and of her Ralph muttering as though to assure her he would inquired whether herhusband was at home. not forget this, walked away. "N' o," she said, sharply, "he is not in- Thence, he went straight to the inm bed, and I don't think he will be at home which Mr. Squeers frequented, and inquired fr a very long time, that's more." when he had been there last; in the vague "Do you know who I am?" asked Ralph. hope that whether successful or unsuccess. "Oh yes, I know you very well - too fulf, he might by this time have returred well perhaps, and perhaps he does too, and from his mission and be able to assure iLim sorry am 1 that I should have to say it." that all was safe. But Mr. Squeers hai "Tell him that I saw him through the not been there for ten days, and all that the window-blind above, as I crossed the road people could tell about him was, that he lust now, and that I would speak to him on had left his luggage and his bill. business," said Ralph, sarcastically. " Do Disturbed by a thousand fears and sur you hear 3" inises, and bent upon ascertaining whether: I hear," rejoined Mrs. Snawley; taking Squeers had any suspicion of Snawley, of no further notice of the request. was in any way a party to this altered be. " I knew this woman was a hypocrite in haviour, Ralph determined to hazard the the way of psalms and Scripture phrases," extreme step of inquiring for him at the said Ralph, passing quietly by, "but I Lambeth lodging, arid having an interview never knew she drank before." with him even there. Bent upon this pur. " Stop! You don't come in here," said pose, and in that mood in which delay is Mr. Snawley's better-half, interposing her insupportable, lie repaired at once to the person, which was a robust one, in the place, and being by description perfectly door-way. "You have said more than acquainted with the situation of his room, enough to hint on. business before now. I crept up stairs and knocked gently at the always told him what dealing with you and door. working out your schemes would come to. Not one, nor two, nor three, nor yet s It was either you or the schoolmaster- dozen knocks served to convince Ralph =sle of you, or the two between you-that against his wish that there was nobody ingot the forged letter done, remember that. side. He reasoned that he might be asleep; That wasn't his doing, so don't lay it at his and, listening, almost Dersuaded himself door." that he could hear him breathe. Even'"Hold your tongue, you Jezebel," sail when he was satisfied that he could not be Ralph, looking fearfully round. there, he sat patiently down upon a broken "A_`, 1 know when to hold my tongue, stair and waited; arguing that he had gone and when to speak, Mr. Nickleby," retort- out upon some slight errand and must swoo, ed the dame. "Take care that other return. pople know when to hold theirs" Many feet came upon the cresaking stairs 24 376 NICHOLAS NICKLEB~. snd the step of some seemed to his listen- his head in a sort of ecstasy of impatience mig ear so like that of the man for whom iDon't speak to nie, don't knock, don't he waited. that Ralph often stood up to be call attention to the house, but go away." ready to address him when ne reached the "I'll knock I swear till I have your top; but one by one each person turned off neighbours up in arms," said Ralph, "if into some ioom short of the place where he you don't tell me what you mean by lurk. was stationed, and at every such disappoint- ing there, you whining cur." ment he felt quite chilled and lonely. " 1 can't hear what you say-don't talk At length he felt it was hopeless to re- to me, it isn't safe —go away-go away." main, and going down stairs again, inquired returned Gride. of one of the lodgers if he knew anything "Come down, I say. Will you corn of Mr. Squeers's movements —mentioningr down!" said Ralph fiercely. that worthy by an assumed name which had "No-o-o-o," snarled Gride. I-le been agreed upon between them. By this drew in his head; and Ralph, left standing lodger he was referred to another, and by in the street, could hear the sash closed as him to some one else, from whom he learnt gently and carefully as it had been opened. that late on the previous night he had gone "How is this," said he, "that they all out hastily with two men, who had shortly fall from me and shun me like the plague afterwards returned for the old woman who these men who have licked the dust from lived on the same floor; and that although my feet! Is my day past, and is this indeed the circumstance had attracted the atten- the coming on of night? I'll know what tion of the informant, he had not spoken to it means, I will, at my cost. I am firmer them at the time, nor made any inquiry and more myself just now than I have been afterwards. these many days." This possessed him with the idea that Turning from the door, which in the first perhaps Peg Sliderskew had been appre- transport of his rage he had meditated bathended for the robbery, and that Mr. tering upon until Gride's very fears impelSqueers being with her at the time, had led him to open it, he turned his face tobeen apprehended also on suspicion of be- wards the city, and working his way steaing a confederate. If this were so, the fact dily through the crowd which was pouring must be known to Gride; and to Gride's from it (it was by this time between five house he directed his steps; now thoroughly and six o'clock in the afternoon) went alarmed, and fearful that there were indeed straight to the house of business of the Broplots afoot tending to his discomfiture and thers Cheeryble, and putting his head into ruin. the glass case, found Tim Linkinwater Arrived at the usurer's nouse, he found alone. the windows close shut, the dingy blinds "My name's Nickleby," said Ralph. drawn down: all silent, melancholy, and'I know it," replied Tim, surveying him deserted. But this was its usual aspect. through his spectacles. He knocked —gently at first, then loud and 6 "Which of your firm was it who called vigorously, but nobody came. He wrote a on me this morning?" demanded Ralph. few words in pencil on a card, and having "Mr. Charles." thrust it under the door was going away, "Then tell Mr. Charles I want to see when a noise ablxve, as though a window- him." sash were stealthily raised, caught his ear, "You shall see," said Tim, getting off and looking up he could just discern the his stool with great agility. " You shaT face of Gride himself cautiously peering see not only Mr. Charles, but Mr. Ned like over the house parapet from the window wise." of the garret. Seeing who was below, he Tim stopped, looked steadily and seJere Irew it in again; not so quickly, however, ly at Ralph, nodded his head once in a curt but that Ralph let him know he was ob- manner, which seemed to say there was a served, and called to him to come down. little more behind, and vanished. After a The call being repeated, (4-ide looked short interval he returned, and ushering out again so cautiously that no part of the Ra'.h into the presence of the two brothere, old man's body was visible, and the sharp remained in the room himself: tfeatures and white hair appearing alone' I want to speak to you, who spoke te above the parapet looked liked a severed me this morning," said Ralph, pointing out Head garnishing the wall. with his finger the man whom he ad"Hush!" he cried. "Go away -go dressed. awa7y,' " I have no secrets from my brother Ned, "Come down," said Ralph, beckoning or from Tim Linkinwater," observed bro aie) i ther Charles quietly. "Go % —w-a!!" squeaked Gride," said Ralph. NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 771 "Mr. Nickleby, sir," said brother Ned, "Very well. Brother Ned, will you ring, the matter upon which my brother Charles the bell?" called upon you this morning is one which "Charles, my dear fellow! stop one in is already perfectly well known to us three stant," returned the other. "It will be and to others besides, and must unhappily better for Mr. Nickleby and for our object soon become known to a great m.any more. that he should remain silent if he can, till He waited upon you, sir, this mrrning alone, we have said what we have to say. I wish as a matter of delicacy and consideration. him to understand that." We feel now that further delicacy and con- "Quite right, quite right," said brother sideration would be mispltoced, and if we Charles. confer together it must be as we are or not Ralph smiled, but made no reply. The at all." bell was rung, the room-door opened; a " Well, gentlemen,"' mid Ralph with a man came in with a halting walk; and, curl of the lip,' talk;,ig in riddles would looking round, Ralph's eyes met those of seem to be the pec'liiat forte of you two, Newman Noggs. From that moment his and I suppose your clerk, like a prudent heart began to fail him. man, has studied tae art also, with a view "This is a good beginning," he said bitto your good gaoes. Talk in company, terly. "Oh! this is a good beginning. gentlemen, in!;od's name. I'll humour You are candid, honest, open-hearted, fairyou." dealing men! I always knew the real "Humo:r "' cried Tim Linkinwater, worth of such characters as yours! To suddenly gwcwing very red in the face, tamper with a fellow like this, who would'4 he'11 humour us! He'll humour Cheery- sell his soul (if he had one) for drink, and ble Brothers! Do you hear that? Do you whose every word is a lie,-what men are hear that? Do you hear him say he'll safe it this is done? Oh, it's a good behamour Cheeryble Brothers " ginning!" " Tim," said Charles and Ned together, " I will speak," cried Newman, standing i" pray Tim, pray now don't." on tiptoe to look over Tim's head, who had Tim, taking the hint, stifled his indigna- interposed to prevent him. "' Hallo, you Lion as well as he could, and suffered it to sir — old Nickleby - what do you mean escape through his spectacles, with the ad- when you talk of a fellow like this?' Who tional safety-valve of a short hysterical made me'a fellow like this?' If I would laugh now and then, which seemed to re- sell my soul for drink, why wasn't I a thief, lieve him mightily. swindler, housebreaker, area sneak, robber "A4s nobody bids me to a seat," said Ralph of pence ou't of the trays of blind ment' looking round, "I'll take one, for I am fa- dogs, rather than your drudge and pack tigned with walking. And nqw if you horse? If my every word was a lie, why please, gentlemen, I wish to know-I de- wasn't I a pet and favourite of yours? Lie! mand to know-I have the right-what you When did I ever cringe and fawn to youhave to say to me which justifies such a eh? Tell me that. I served you faithtone as you have assumed, and that under- fully. I did more work because I was poor, hand interference in my affairs which I and took more hard words from you because have reason to suppose you have been prac- I despised you and them, than any man you ~ising. I tell you plainly, gentlemen, that could have got from the parish workhouse. little as I care for the opinion of the world I did. I served you because I was proud; (as the slang goes) I don't choose to submit because I was a lonely man with you, and quietly to slander and malice. Whether there were no other drudges to see my deyou suffer yourselves to be imposed upon gradation, and because nobody knew better too easily, or wilfully make yourselves par- than you that I was a ruined man, that I ties to it, the result to me is the same, and hadn't always been what I am, and that I in either case you can't expect from a plain might have been better off if I hadn't been man like myself much consideration or for- a fool and fallen into the hands of you and bearance." others who were knaves. Do you deny So coolly and deliberately was this said, that —eh " that nine men out of ten, ignorant of the " Gently," reasoned Tim, " you said you circumstances, would have supposed Ralph wouldn't." to be really an injured man. There he sat " I said I wouldn't!" cried Newman with folded arms; paler than usual cer- thrusting him aside, and moving his hand tainly and sufficiently ill-favoured, but quite as Tim moved, so as to keep him at arm'scollected-far more so than the brothers or length, "dont tell me. Here, youa Nickle tile exasperated Tim, and ready to face out by, don't pretend not to mind me; it won't tae very worst. do, I know better. You were talking ot "Very well, sir." said brother Charles. tampering just now. Who tampered with %* 4 378 NICHOULA N[CKLEBY Yorkshire schoolmasters, and, while they C harles, "quite ready to o'jr hands..rhe sent the drudge out that he shouldn't over- man Snawley last night made a confeo. hear. forgot that such great caution might sion." render him suspicious, and that he might "Who may' the man Snawley' 1w," re. watch his master out at nights, and might turned Ralph, "and what may his' confebs set other eyes to watch the schoolmaster sion' have to do with my affairs?" besidesl Who tampered with a selfish To this inquiry, put with a dogged infather, urging him to sell his daughter to flexibility of manner which language canold Arthur Gride, and tampered with Gride not express, the old gentleman returned no too, and did so in the little office with a answer, but went on to say that to show closet in the room?'' him how much they were in earnest, it Ralph had put a great command upon would be necessary to tell him not only himself, but he could not have suppressed what accusations were made against him, a slight start, if he had been certain to be but what proof of them they had, and how beheaded for it next moment. that proof had been acquired. This laying "Aha!" cried Newman, "you mind me open the whole question, brought up Bronow, do you? What first set this fag to ther Ned, Tim Linkinwater, and Newman be jealous of his master's actions, and to Noggs, all three at once, who, after a vast feel that'if he hadn't crossed him when he deal of talking together, and a scene of might, he would have been as bad as he, or great confusion, laid before Ralph in distinct worse? That master's cruel treatment of terms the following statement. his own flesh and blood, and vile designs That Newman, having been solemnly upon a young girl who interested even his assured by one not then producible that broken-down, drunken, miserable hack, and Smike was not the son of Snawley, and made him linger in his service, in the hope this person having offered to make oath to of doing her some good (as, thank God, he that effect if necessary, they had by this had done others once or twice before), when communication been first led to doubt the he would otherwise have relieved his feel- claim set up, which they would otherwise ings by pummelling his master soundly, have seen no reason to dispute. supported and then going to the Devil. He would- as it was by evidence which they had no mark that; and mark this-that 1'm here power of disproving. That once suspectnow because these gentlemen thought it ing the existence of a conspiracy, they had nest. When I sought them out (as I did- no difficulty in tracing back its origin to there was no tampering with me) I told the malice of Ralph and the vindictiveness them I wanted help to find you out, to and avarice of Squeers. That suspicion and trace you down, to go through with what I proof being two very different things, they had begun, to help the right; and that had been advised by a lawyer, eminent for when I had done it, I'd burst into your his sagacity and acuteness in such practice, room and tell you all, face to face, mlan to to resist the proceedings taken on the other man, and like a man. Now I've said my side for the recovery of the youth as slowly say, and let any body else say theirs, and and artfully as possible, and meanwhile to fire away." beset Snawley (with whom it was clear the With this concluding sentiment, New- main falsehood must rest), to lead him, if man Noggs, who had been perpetually sit- possible, into contradictory and conflicting ting down and getting up again all through statements, to harass him by all available his speech which he had delivered in a means, and so to practise on his fears and series of jerks, and who was, from the vio- regard for his own safety as to induce him lent exercise and the excitement combined, to divulge the whole scheme, and to give in a state of most intense and fiery heat, up his employer and whomsoever else he became, without passing through any inter- could implicate. That all this had been mediate stage, stiff, upright, and motionless, skilfully done; but that Snawley, who was ane so remained, staring at Ralph Nickleby well practised in the arts of low cunning with all his might and main. and intrigue, had successfully baffled all Ralph looked at him tor an instant, and their attempts, until an unexpected circumtbr an instant only; then waved his hand, stance had brought him last night upon his and, beating the ground with his foot, said knees. in a choking voice, It thus arose. When Newman Noggs "Go on, gentlemen, go on. i'm patient reported that Squeers was again in town, yfr. see. There's law to be had, there's and that an interview of such secrecy had law. I shall call you to an account for taken place between him and Railps that this Take care what you say; I shall he had been sent out of the house, plainly miiake you prove it." lest he should overhear a word, a watch "'Tne proof is readvy," returned Brother was set upon the schoolmaster, in the hotpe NICHIOLAS NICKLEBY. 3719 that something mighti be discovered which up stairs to listen to their discourse, and to would throw some light upon the suspected give the signal to the office' at the most plot It being found, however, that he held favourable time. At what an opportune no fhirther communication with Ralph nor moment they arrived, how they listened, any with Snawley, and lived quite alone, and what they heard, is already known to Whey were completely at fault; the watch the reader. Mr. Squeers, still half stunned, was withdrawn, and they would have ob- was hurried off with a stolen deed in his served his motions no longer, if it had not possession, and Mrs. Sliderskew was appre. happened that one night Newman stumbled hended likewise. The information being unobserved upon him and Ralph in the promptly carried to Snawley that Squeers street together. Following them, he dis- was in custody-he was not told for what covered to his great surprise, that they -that worthy, first extorting a promise repaired to various low lodging-houses, and that he should be kept harmless, declared taverns kept by broken gamblers, to more the whole tale concerning Smike to be a than one of whom Ralph was known, and fiction and forgery, and implicated Ralph were in pursuit-so he found by inquiries Nickleby to the fullest extent. As to Mr. when they had left-of an old woman, Squeers, he had that morning undergone a whose description exactly tallied with that private examination before a magistrate, of deaf Mrs. Sliderskew. Affairs now ap- and being unable to account satisfactorily pearing to assume a more serious corn- for his possession of the deed or his complexion, the watch was renewed.with in- panionship with Mrs. Sliderskew, had been, creased vigilance; an officer was procured with her, remanded for a week. who took up his abode in the same tavern All these discoveries were now related with Squeers; and by him and Frank to Ralph circumstantially and in detail. Cheeryble the footsteps of the unconscious Whatever impression they secretly proschoolmaster were dogged, until he was duced, he suffered no sign of emotion to safely housed in the lodging at Lambeth. escape him, but sat perfectly still, not raisMr. Squeers having shifted his lodging, the ing his frowning eyes from the ground, and Dfficer shifted his, and, lying concealed in covering his mouth with his hand. When the same street, and, indeed, in the oppo- the narrative was concluded, he raised his site house, soon found that Mr.- Squeers and head hastily, as if about to speak, but on Mrs. Sliderskew were in constant commua- brother Charles resuming, fell into his old hication. attitude again. In this state of things Arthur Gride was "I told you this morning," said the old appealeL to. The robbery, partly owing gentleman, laying his hand upon his broto the inquisitiveness of the neighbours, and ther's shoulder, "that I came to you in partly to his own grief and rage, had long mercy. How far you may be implicated ago become known; but he positively re- in this last transaction, or how far the perfilsed to give -his sanction or yield any son who is now in custody may crimirite assistance to the old woman's capture, and you, you best know. But jqstice must was seized with such a panic at the idea of take its course against the parties implicatbeing called upon. to give evidence against ed in the plot against this poor, unoffend. her, that he shut himself up close in his ing, injured lad. It is not in my power, houise, and refused to hold communication or in the power of my brother Ned, to save with any body. Upon this, the pursuers you from the consequences. The utmost took counsel together, and, coming so near we can do is to warn you in time, and to the truth as to arrive at the conclusion that give you an opportunity of escaping them. Gride and Ralph, with Squeers for their We would not have an old man like you instrument, were negotiating for the reco- disgraced and punished by your near relavery of some of the stolen papers which tion, nor would we have him forget, like would not bear the light, and might pos- you, all ties of blood and nature. We en. sibly explain the hints relative to Madeline treat you —brother Ned, you join me, 1 which Newman had overheard, resolved know, in this entreaty, and so Tim Linki-. that Mrs. Sliderskew should be taken into water do you, although you pretend to be custody before she had parted with them, and an obstinate dog, Sir, and sit there frown. Squeers too, if any thing suspicious could ing as if you didn't- we entreat you to be attached to him. Accordingly, a search- retire from London, to take shelter in some warrant being procured, and all prepared, place where you will be safe from the con Mr. Squeers's window was watched, until sequences of these wicked designs, and his light was put out, and the time arrived where you may haventime, Sir, to atone for when, as had been previously ascertained, them, and to become a better man." We usually visited Mrs. Sliderskew. This "And do you think," returned Ralph, done, Frank Cheeryble and Newman stole rising, with the sneer of a devil," " ad do 880 NI %CHOLAS NICKLEBY you think you will so easily crush me? Do for. You have not the nlan tk deal with you think that a hundred well-arranged that you think; try me, and remember that plans, or a hundred suborned witnesses, or I spit upon your fair words and false deal. a hundred false curs at my heels, or a ings, and dare you-provoke you- taunt hundred canting speeches full of oily words, you-to do to me the very worst you can." will move me? I thank you for disclosing Thus they parted for that time; but t14 your schemes, which I am now prepared worst had not come yet. CHAPTER LX. THE DANGERS THICKEN, AND THE WORST IS TOLD. INSTEAD of going home, Ralph threw napping man, has been and broke it," re. himself into the first street cabriolet he joined Squeers sulkily, " that's what's the could find, and directing the driver towards matter with it. You've come at last, have the police-office of the district in which you I" Mr. Squeers's misfortunes had occurred, "Why have you not sent to me." said alighted at a short distance fromt it, and, Ralph. " How could I come till I knew discharging the man, went the rest of his what had befallen you l" way thither on foot. Inquiring for the ob- "My family!" hiccupped Mr. Squeers, ject of his solicitude, he learnt that he had raising his eye to the ceiling; "' my daughtimed his visit well, for Mr. Squeers was ter as is at that age when all the sensibili in fact at that moment waiting for a hack- ties is a coming out strong in blow- my ney-coach he had ordered, and in which he son as is the young Norval of private life, purposed proceeding to his week's retire- and the pride and ornament of a doting nent, like a gentleman. willage —here's a shock for the family! Demanding speech with the prisoner, he The coat of arms of the Squeerses is tare, was ushered into a kind of waiting-room and their sun is gone down into the ocean in which, by reason of his scholastic pro- wave!" fession and superior respectability, Mr. "You have been drinking," said Ralph, Squeers had been permitted to pass the "and have not yet slept yourself sober." day. IIere, by the light of a guttering "I haven't been drinking your health, and blackened candle, he could barely my codger," replied Mr. Squeers, "soyou dicern the schoolmaster fast asleep on a have nothing to do with that." bench in a remote corner. An empty glass Ralph suppressed the indignation which stood on a table before him, and this, with the schoolmaster's altered and insolent his somnolent condition and a very strong manner awakened, and asked again why smell of brandy and water, forewarned the he had not sent to him. visiter that Mr. Squeers had been seeking " What should I get by sending to you." in creature comforts a temporary forgetful- returned Squeers. "To be known to be ness of his unpleasant situation. in with you, wouldn't do me a great deal It was not a very easy matter to rouse of good, and they won't take bail till they him: so lethargic and heavy were his know something more of the case, so here slumbers. Regaining his faculties by slow am I hard and fast, and there are you loose and faint glimmerings, he at length sat up- and comfortable." right, and displaying a very yellow face, a " And so must you be in a few days," rery red nose, and a very bristly beard, the retorted Ralph, with affected good-humour. joint effect of which was considerably "They can't hurt you, man." heightened by a dirty white handkerchief, " Why, I suppose they can't do much spotted with blood, drawn over the crown to me if I explain how it was that I got of his head and tied under his chin, stared into the company of that there ca-daverous ruefilly at Ralph in silence, until his feel- old Slider," replied Squeers viciously ings found a vent in this pithy sentence: "who I wish was dead and buried, and "I say, young fellow, you've been and resurrected and dissected, and hung upon done it now, you have!" wires in a anatomical museum, before evex "What's the matter with your head." I'd had anything to do with her. This is aused Ralph. what him with the Powdered head savs "VWhy, Your man, your informing kid- this morning, in so many words.-' Pria NICHOLAS NICKLEBY'. 381 roner, as you have been found in company: presence of mind, which a, once suggested with this woman; as you were detected to him the necessity of removing as far as in possession of this document; and as possible the schoolmaster's misgivings, you were engaged with her in fraudulently and leading him to believe that his safety destroying others, and scan give no satis- and best policy lay in the preservation ofi factory account of yourself, 1 shall remand a rigid silence. you for a week, in order that inquiries may "-I tell you once again," he said, "they be made, and evidence got —and mean- can't hurt you. You shall have an action while I can't take any bail -for your ap- for false imprisonment, and make a profit pearance.' Well then, what I say now is, of this yet. We will devise a story for that I can give a satisfactory account of you that should carry you throufh twenty myself; I can hand in the card of my es- times such a trivial scrape as this; and if tablishment and say,'I am the Wackford they want security in a. thousand pounds Squeers as is therein named, Sir. I am for your reappearance in case you should the man as is guaranteed by unimpeach- be called upon, you shall have it. All able references to be a out-and-outer in you have to do is to keep back the truth. -morals and uprightness of principle. What- You're a little fuddled to-night, and may ever is wrong in this business is no fault not be able to see this as clearly as-you of mine. I had no evil design in it, Sir. would at another time, but this is what I was not aware that anything was wrong. you must do, and you'll need all your I was merely employed by a friend-my senses about you, for a slip might be awkfriend Mr. Ralph Nickleby, of Golden ward." Square-send for hirn,'Sir, and ask him "O h!" said Squeers, wih-y had looked what he has to say —he's the man; not cunningly at him, with his head stuck on me.'" one side like an old raven.''"That's what " What document was it that you had 3" I'm to do, is it l Now then, jist hear a asked Ralph, evading for the moment the word or two from me. I an't a going to point just raised. have any stories made for me, and I an't a "What dodument Why, the docu- going to stick to any. If I find matters ment," replied Squeers. "The Madeline going against me, I shall expect you to what's-her-name one. It was a will, that's take your share, and I'll take carn you do. what it was." You never said anything about danger. I "Of what nature, whose will, when never bargained for being brought into dated, how benefiting her, to what ex- such a plight as this, and I don't mean to tentl." asked Ralph, hurriedly. take it as quiet as you think. I let you "A will in her favour, that's all I know," lead me or from one thing to another, berejoined Squeers; "' and that's more tnan cause we had been mixed up together in a you'd have known'f you'd had them bel- certain sort of a way, and if you had liked lows on jy-ur head. It's all owing to your to be ill-natured you might, perhaps, have precious caution that they got hold of it. hurt the business, and if ye i ihked to be If you had let me burn it, and taker. my good-natured- you might thro V a good deal word that it was gone, it would have been in my way. Well; if all g, es right now, a heap of ashes behind the fire, instead of that's quite correct, and I d n't mind it; being whole and sound inside of my great- but if anything goes wrong, then times are coat." altered, and I shall just say snd do what" Beaten at every point!" muttered ever I think may serve me must; and take Ralph, gnawing his fingers. advice from nobody. My moral influence " Ah!" sighed Squeers, who, between with them lads," added Mr. Squeers, with the brandy and water and his broken head, deeper gravity, " is a tottering to its basis. wandered strangely, " at the delightful vil- The images of Mrs. Squeers, my daughter, iate of Dotheboys near Greta Bridge in and my son Wackford, all short of vittles, Y'orkshire, youth are boarded, clothed, is perpetually before me; every other conbooked, washed, furnished with pocket sideration melts away and vanishes is money, provided with all necessaries, in- front of these, and the only number in all structed in all languages living and dead, arithmetic that I know of as a husband and mE thematics, orthography, geometry, as- a father is number one, under this here most tronomy, trigonometry —this is a altered fatal go!"' state of trigonomics, this is-a double 1- How long Mr. Squeers might have deall, everything-a cobler's weapon. U-p- claimed, or how stormy a discussion his up, adjective, not down. S-q-u-double declamation might have led to, nobody e-r-s-Squeers, noun substantive, a educator knows. Being interrupted at this point of youtrh: Total, all ulp with Squeers!" by the arrival of the coach and an attea.dHis running on in this way had afforded ant whle was to bear him company, he Ralph an opportunity of recovering his perched his hat with great dignit'y arn ia 382 N CHOLAS NICKLEBY top of the handkerchief that bound his Mr. Nickleby, which concerns you nearly. aesad, and thrusting one hand in his pocket, Do you think I would tell you so, or come and taking the attendant's arm with the to you like this, if it were not the case!" other, suffered himself to be led forth. Ralph looked at him more closely, and " As I supposed, from his not sending!" seeing that he was indeed greatly excited,'hought Ralph. "This fellow, I plainly faltered, and could not tell what to say oi see through all his tipsy fooling, has made think. up his mind to turn upon me. I am so be- " You had better hear this now than as set and hemmed in that they-are not only any other time," said Tim, "it may have all struck with fear, but, like the beasts in some influence with you. For Iteaven's the fable, have their fling at me now, sake come!" though time was, and no longer ago than Perhaps at another time Ralph's obsti. yesterday too, vhen they were all civility nacy and dislike would have been Iroof and compliance. But they shall not move against any appeal from such a quarter, me. I'll not give way. I will not budge however emphatically urged; but now, one inch!" after a moment's hesitation, he went into IHe went home, and was glad to find the the hall for his hat, and returning got into housekeeper complaining of illness that he the coach without speaking a word. might have an excuse for being alone and Tim well remembered afterwards, ant sending her away to where she lived, often said, that as Ralph Nickleby wen. which was hard by. Then he sat down into the house for this purpose, he saw him by the light of a single candle, and began by the light of the candle which he had set to think, for the first time, on all that had down upon a chair, reel and stagger like a taken place that day. drunken man. He well remembered too He had neither eaten nor drunk since that when he had placed his foot upon the last night, and in addition to the anxiety coach steps, he turned round and looked of mind he had undergone, had been tra- upon him with a face so ashy pale and so velling about from place to place almost very wild and vacant that it made him incessantly for many hours. He felt sick shudder, and for the moment almost afraid and exhausted, but could taste nothing save to follow. People were fond of saying a glass of water, and continued to sit with that he had some dark presentiment upon his head upon his hand-not resting or him then; but his emotion might pelhaps, thinking, but laboriously trying to do both, with greater show of reason, be referred tc and feeling that every sense, but one of what he had undergone that day. weariness and desolation, was for the time A profound silence was observed during benumbed. the ride. Arrived at their place of desti It was nearly ten o'clock when he heard nation, Ralph followed his conductor into a knocking at the door, and still sat quiet the house, and into a room where the twc as before, as if he could not even bring his brothers were. Here he was so astounded thougbts to bear upon that. It had been not to say awed, by something of a mute often repeated, and he had several times compassion for himself, which was visible heard a voice outside, saying there was a in their manner and in that of the old clerk, light in the window (meaning, as he knew, that he could scarcely speak. his own candle), before he could rouse Having taken a seat, however, he conhimself and go down stairs. trived to say, though in broken words, "Mr. Nickleby, there is terrible news I "What —what have you to say to mefor you, and I am sent to beg you will more than has been said already." come with me directly," said a voice he The room was old and large, very irnseemed to recognise. He held his hand perfectly lighted, and terminated in a bay above his eyes, and looking out, saw Tim window, about which hung some heavy Linkinwater on the steps. drapery. Casting his eyes in this direc"Come where?" demanded Ralph. tion as he spoke, he thought he made out "To our house-where you came this the dusky figure of'a man, and was con aorning. I have a coach here." firmed in this impression by seeing that " Why should I go there." said Ralph. the object moved as if uneasy under his "Don't ask me why, but pray come with scrutiny. me."' "Who's that yonder?" he said. "Another edition of to-day!" returned "One who has conveyed to us within Ralph, making as though he would shut these two hours the intelligence which aie door caused our sending to you," replied brotlhi " No, no!" cried Tim, catching him by Charles. " Let him be, Sir, let him be foi the arm and speaking most earnestly; "it the present."!s only that you may hear something that "More riddles!" said Ralph, faintlx sb ouired —-somethling:etry dreadful, | "Well, Sirl" NICHIO AS NICKLEBY O,:k3 in turning his face towards the brothers I would have travelle(c a nundred rmiles he was obliged to avert it from the window, a-foot, through mud, mire, and darkness, to nut before either of them could speak, he hear this news just at this time." nad looked round again. It was evident Even then, moved as he was by this saythai. hlie was rendered restless and uncom- age joy, Ralph could see in the faces of the fortable by the presence of the unseen per- two brothers, mingling with their look of son, for he repeated this action several disgust and horror, something of that indetimes, and at length, as if in a nervous finable compassion for himself which be state which rendered him positively unable had noticed before. to tern away from the place, sat so as to "And he brought you the intelligence, have it cpposite him, and muttered as an did he I" said Ralph, pointing with his excuse that he could not bear the light. finger towards the recess already mentionThe brothers conferred apart for a short ed; "and sat there, no doubt, to see me time: their manner showing that they prostrated and overwhelmed by it! Ha, were agitated. Ralph glanced at them ha, ha! But I tell him that I'll be a sharp twice or thrice, and ultimately said, with thorn in his side for many a long day to a great effort to recover his self-possession, come, and I tell you two again that you " Now, what is this? If I am brought don't know him yet, and that you'll rue from home at this time of night, let it be the day you took compassion on the vagafor something. What have you got to tell bond." me 13" After a short pause, he added, "' You take me for your nephew," said a "Is my niece dead?" hollow, dejected voice; " it would be better He had struck upon a key which ren- for you and for me too if I were he indeed." dered the task of commencement an easier The figure that he had seen so dimly, one. Brother Charles turned, and said rose, and came slowly down. He started that it was a death of which they had to back, for he found that he had confronted tell him, but that his niece was well. -not Nicholas, as he had supposed, but "You don't mean to tell me," said Brooker. Ralph, as his eyes brightened, "that her Ralph had no reason that he knew, to brother's dead. No, that's too good. I'd fear this man; he had never feared him not believe it if you told me so. It would before; but the pallor which had been obbe too welcome news to be true." served in his face when he issued forth " Shame on you, you hardened and un- that night, came upon him again; he -was natural man," cried the other brother, seen to tremble, and his voice changed as warlnly;'prepare yourself for intelli- he said, keeping his eyes upon him, gence, which if you have any human feel- " What does this fellow here. Do you ling in your breast, will make even you know he is a convict-a felon-a common shrink and tremble. What if we tell you thief!" that a poor unfortunate boy, a child in "'Hear what he has to tell you-oh, Mr. every thing but never having known one Nickleby, hear what he has to tell you, be of those tender endearments, or one of he what he may," cried the brothers, with those lightsome hours which make our such emphatic earnestness, that Ralph childhood a time to be remembered like a turned to them in wonder. They pointed happy dream through all our after life —a to Brooker, and Ralph again gazed at him; warm-hearted, harmless, affectionate crea- as it seemed mechanically. ture, who never offended you or did you "That boy," said the man, "that these wrong, blut on'whom you have vented the gentlemen have been talking of'-" malice and hatred you have conceived for "That boy," repeated Ralph, looking your nephew, and whom you have made vacantly at him. an- instrument for wreaking your bad pas- " Whom I saw stretched dead and cold sirns upon him-what if we tell you that, upon his bed, and who is now in his sinking under your persecution, Sir, and grave " the misery and ill-usage of a life short in'"Who is now in his grave," echoed years, but long in suffering, this poor crea- Ralph, like one who talks in his sleep. ture has gone to tell his sad tale where, for The man raised his eyes, and clasped your part in it, you must surely answer?" his hands solemnly together: " If you tell me," said Ralph, eagerly; -Was your only son, so help me " if you tell me that he is dead, I forgive God in heaven!" you all else. If you tell me that he is dead, In the midst of a dead silence, Ralph I am in your debt and bound to you for life. sat down, pressing his two hands upon his He is! I see it in your faces. Who tri- temples. He removed them after a minute, umphs now' Is this your dreadful news, and never was there seen part of a living this your terrible intelligence 3 You see man, undisfigured by any wound, su.:h a now lt moves me Y. a did well to send. ghastly face as he ther, isclosed. lEe ;84 NICHOLAS NI(.KLEBY. looked fixedly at Brooker, who was by peremptorily refused. Sl.e retnalned alont this time standing at a short distance from in a dull country house, seeing little or no him, but did not say one word or make the company but riotous, drunken sportsmen. slightest sound or gesture. He lived in London and clung to his busia" Gentlemen," said the nan, " I offer no ness. Angry quarrels and recriminations excuses for myself. I am long past that. took place, and when they had been mar If in telling you how this has happened, ried nearly seven years, and were within a I tell you that I was harshly used and per- few weeks of the time when the brother's haps driven out of my real nature, I do it death would have adjusted all, she eloped only as a necessary part of my story, and with a younger man and left him." Iot to shield myself; I am a guilty man." Here he paused, but Ralph did not stir, He stopped as if to recollect, and look- and the brothers signed to him to proceed. ing away from Ralph and addressing him- "It was then that I became acquainted self to the brothers, proceeded in a sub- with these circumstances from his own dued and humble tone: lips. They were no secrets then, for the "Among tb.he who once had dealings brother and others knew them, but they wltn tnrs man, gentlemen-that's from were communicated to me not on this actwenty to five-and-twenty years ago-there count, but because I was wanted. He folwas one, a rough fox-hunting, hard-drink- lowed the fugitives-some said to make ing gentleman, who had run through his money of his wife's shame, ubit I believe own fortune, and wanted to squander away to take some violent revenge, for that was that of his sister; they were both orphans, as much his character as the other-perand she lived with him and managed his haps more. He didn't find them, and she house. I don't know whether it was ori- died not long after. I don't know whether ginally to back his influence and try to he began to think he might like the child. over-persuade the young woman or not, or whether he wished to make sure that it but he," pointing to Ralph, "used to go should never fall into its mother's hands, down to the house in Leicestershire pretty but before he went, he entrusted rme with often, and stop there many days at a time. the charge of bringing it home. And I They had had a great many dealings toge- did so." ther, and he may have gone on some of He went on from this point in a still those, or to patch up his client's affairs, more humble tone, and spoke in a very low which were in a ruinous state-of course voice, pointing to Ralph as he resumed. lie went for profit. The gentlewoman was "He had used me ill - cruelly —I re. not a girl, but she was, I have heard say, minded him in what, not long ago when I handsome, and entitled to a pretty large met him in the street —and I hated hin. property. In course of time he married I brought the child home to his own house her. The same love of gain which led and lodged him in the front garriet. Nehim to contract this marriage, led to its glect had made him very sickly, and I was being kept strictly private, for a clause in obliged to call in a doctor, who said ble her fattier's will declared that if she mar- must be removed for change of air, or lhe ried without her brother's consent, the pro- would die. I think that first put it in my perty, in which she had only some life in- head. I did it then. He was gfne six terest while she remained single, should weeks, and when he came back, I told him pass away altogether to another branch of — with every circumstance well planned the family. The brother would give no and proved; nobody could have suspected consent that the sister did'nt buy and pay me - that the child was dead and buried. foi handsomely; Mr. Nickleby would con- He might have been disappointed in some sent to no such sacrifice, and so they went intention he had formed, or he might have )on keeping their marriage secret, and had some natural affection, but he was waitino for him to break his neck or die grieved at that, and I was confirmed in my of a fever. Ile did neither, and mean- design of opening up the secret one day, while the result of this private marriage and making it a means of getting money was a son. The child was put out to nurse from him. I had heard, like most other a long way off, his mother never saw him men, of Yorkshire schools. I tookl thl iut once or twice, and then by stealth, and child to one kept by a man named Squeers, his father-so eagerly did he thirst after and left it there. I gave him the nilme of the money which seemed to come almost Smike. I paid twenty pounds a-year fo; within his grasp now, for his brother-in- him for six years, never breathing the seiaw was very ill, and breaking more and cret all the time, for I had left his father's naore every day-never went near him, to service after more hard uspge, and quiravoid raising any suspicion. The brother relled with him again. I was sent awav hrgered on, Mr. Nicklebv's wife constant- ) from this country. 1 have been away nearly y urged him to avow their marriage, he eight years. Directly I came home rauin NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 385 i travelled down into Yorkshire, and skulk- "What reparation can ye a make Itr ing in the village of an evening time, made this." inquiries about the boys at the school, and "None, gentlemen, none! I have none found that this one, whom I had placed to make, and nothing to hope now. I am there, had run away;with a young man old in years, and older still in misery and nearing the name of his own father. I care. This confession can bring nothing bought his father out in London, and hint- upon me but new suffering and punishing at what I could tell him, tried for a lit- ment; but I make it, and will abide by it tle money to support life, but he repulsed whatever comes. I have been made the me with threats. I then found out hisclerk, instrument of working out this dreadful and going on from little to little, and show- retribution upon the head of a man who, in ing him that there were good reasons for the hot pursuit of his bad ends, has porsecommunicatiog with me, learnt what was cuted and hunted down his own child to going on; and it was I who told him that death. It must descend upon me, too — the boy was no son of the man who claimed know it must fall - my reparation comes to be his father. All this time I had never too late, and neither in this world nor in seen the boy. At length I heard from this the next can I have hope again!" same source that he was very ill, and where He had hardly spoken, when the lamp, he was. I travelled down there that I which stood upon the table close to where might reveal myself, if possible, to his re- Ralph was seated, and which was the only collection, and confirm my story. I came one in the room, was thrown to the ground upon him unexpectedly; but before Icould and left them in utter darkness. There speak he knew me —he had good cause to was some trifling confusion in obtaining remember me, poor lad-and I would have another light; the interval was a mere no. sworn to him if I had met him in the In- thing; but-when it appeared, Ralph Nicdies; I knew the piteous face I had seen kleby was gone. in the little child. After a few days' inde- The good brothers and Tim Linkinwater cision, I applied to the young gentleman occupied some time in discussing the proIn whose care he was, and I found that lie.bability of his return, and when it became was dead. He knows how quickly he re- apparent that he would not come back, they cognised me again, how often he had de- hesitated whether or no to send after hilm scribed me and my leaving him at the At length, remembering how strangely and school, and how he told him of a garret he silently he had sat in one immoveable porecollected, which is the one I have spoken sition during the interview, and thinking of, and in his father's house to this day. he might possibly be ill, they determined, This is my story; I demand to be brought although it was now very late, to send to face to face with the schoolmaster, and put his house on some pretence, and fnding an to any possible proof of any part of it, and excuse in the presence of Brooker, wholm I will show that it's too true, and that I they knew not how to dispose of without have this guilt upon my soul." consulting his wishes, they concluded to'Unhappy man!" said the brothers. act upon this resolution before going to bed CHAPTER LXI. WHEREIN NICHOLAS AND HIS SISTER FORFEIT THE GOOD OPINION OF ALL WORLDLY AND PRUDENT PEOPLE. ON the next morning after Brooker's and grateful earnest nature had every day disclosure had been made, Nicholas re- endeared him to them more and more. turned home. The meeting between him "I atn sure," said Mrs. Nickleby, wlpi and those whom lhe had left there, was not ing her eyes, and sobbing bitterly, " I have without stong emotion on both sides, for lost the best, the most zealous, and nmost they had been informed by his letters of attentive creature that has ever been a coin what had occurred; and besides that, his panion to me in my life-putting you, my griefs were theirs, they mourned with him dear Nicholas, and Kalte, and your poor the death of one whose forlorn and helpless papa, and that well-behaved nurse who ran state had first established a claim upon away with the linen and the twelve small their compassion, and whose truth of heart forks, out of the question of course. Of 5S3G NICHOLAS NICKLEB Y all the tractabie, equal-tempered, attached, "it's very true, and I'm an ungrateful, and faithful beings that ever lived, I be- impious, wicked little fool, I know." lieve he was the most so. To look round'With that, the good soul fell to crying upon the garden now, that he took so much afresh, and, endeavouring to recover her. pride in, or to go into his room and see it self, tried to laugh. The laugh and the filled with so many of those little contri- cry meeting each other thus abruptly, had vances for our comfort that he was so fond a struggle for the mastery, and the res ft of making, and made so well, and so little was that it was a drawn battle, and Miss thought he would leave unfinished-I can't La Creevy went into hysterics. bear it, I cannot really. Ah! This is a Waiting until they were all tolerahbly great trial to me, a great trial. It will be quiet and composed again, Nicholas, icho a comfort to you, my dear Nicholas, to the stood in need of some rest after his long end of your life, to recollect how kind and journey, retired to his own room., and good you always were to him-so it will throwing himself, dressed as he was, upon be to me to think what excellent terms we the bed, fell into a sound sleep. WVher were always upon, and how fond he always he awoke he found Kate sitting by his was of me, poor fellow! It was very natu- bed-side, who, seeing that he had opened ral you should have been attached to him, his eyes, stooped down to kiss him. my dear-very-and of course you were, " I came to tell you how glad I am to and are very much cut up by this; I am see you home again." sure it's only necessary to look at you and' But I can't tell you how glad I am see how changed you are, to see that; but to see you, Kate." nobody knows what my feelings are-no- " We have been wearying so for your body can-it's quite impossible!" return," said Kate, " mamma and I, andWhile Mrs. Nickleby, with the utmost and Madeline." sincerity, gave vent to her sorrows after " You said in your last letter that she her own peculiar fashion of considering was quite well," said Nicholas, rather herself foremost, she was not the only one hastily, and colouring as he spoke. " Has who indulged such feelings. Kate, al- nothing been said since I have been away though well accustomed to forget herself about any future arrangements that the when others were to be considered, could -brothers have in contemplation for her?" not repress her grief; Madeline was scarce- " Oh, not a word," replied Kate, " I can't ly less moved than she; and poor, hearty, think of parting from her without sorrow; honest, little Miss La Creevy, who had and surely, Nicholas, you don't wish it." come upon one of her visits while Nicholas Nicholas coloured again, and, sitting was away, and had done nothing since the down beside his sister on a little couch sad news arrived but console and cheer near the window, said, them all, no sooner beheld him coming in "No, Kate, no, I do not. I might at the door, than she sat herself down upon strive to disguise my real feelings from thb stairs, and bursting into a flood of tears, anybody but you; but I will tell you that refused for a long time to be comforted. -briefly and plainly, Kate —that I love " It hurts me so," cried the poor body, her." to see him come back alone. I can't help Kate's eyes brightened, and she was thinking what he must have suffered him- going to make some reply, when Nicholas self. I wouldn't mind so much if he gave laid his hand upon her arm, and went on: way a little more, but he bears it so man- " Nobody must know this but you. She fully." last of all." "W hy, so I should," said Nicholas, "Dear Nicholas!" "should I not I" "Last of all-never, though ner: is a "Yes, yes," replied the little woman, long day. Sometimes I try to think that "and bless you for a good creature; but the time may come when I may honestly this does seem at first to a simple soul tell her this; but it is so far off, in such like me —I know it's wrong to say so, distant prospective, so many years must and I shall be sorry for it presently-this elapse before it comes (if ever), I shall be does seem such a poor reward fo? all you so unlike what I am now, and shall have have done." so outlived my days of youth and romance "Nay," said Nicholas gently, " what -though not, I am sure, of love for herbetter reward could I have than the know- that even I feel how visionary all such ledge that his last days were peaceful and hopes must be, and try to crush them happy, and the recollection that I was his I rudely myself and have the pain over constant companion, and was not prevent- rather than suffer time to wither them ed, as I might have been by a hundred and keep the disappointment in store. No, alcumstances, from being beside himn?" Kate; since I have been absent, I have " T- be sure,' sobbed Miss La Creevy, had, in that poor fellow who is goue, perF NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. im petually before miy eyes another instance to them by ties as c ear and 1 M as first enof the munifi(ent liberality of these noble trusted with her history specially because brothers. As far as in me lies I will de- they resposed unbounded confidence in me, serve it, and if I have wavered in my and believed that I was true as steel. How bounden duty to them before, I am now base would it be of me to take advantage of determined to discharge it rigidly, and to the circumstances which placed her here, put further delays and temptations beyond or of the slight service I was happily able my reach." to render her, and to seek to engage her i" Before you say another word, dear affections when the result must be. if [ suoNicholas," said Kate, turning pale, " you ceeded, that the brothers would be disap. must hear what I have to tell you. I came pointed in their darling wish of establishing on purpose, but I had not the courage. her as their own child, and that I must What you say now gives me new heart." seem to hope to build my fortunes on their She fafitered, and burst into tears. compassion for the young creature whom I There was that in her manner which had so meanly and unworthily entrapped, prepared Nicholas for what was coming. turning her very gratitude and warmth of Kate tried to speak, but her tears prevented heart to my own purpose and account, and her. trading in her misfortunes! I, too, whose " Come, you foolish girl," said Nicho- duty and pride and pleasure, Kate, it is, to las; " why Kate, Kate, be a woman. I have other claims upon me which I will thir'k I know what you would tell me. It never forget, and who have the means of a concerns Mr. Frank, does it not?" comfortable and happy life already, and Kate sunk her head upon his shoulder, have no right to look beyond it! I have and sobbed out " Yes." determined to remove this weight froum my "' And he has offered you his hand, per- mind; I doubt whether I have not done baps, since I have been away," said wrong even now; and to.day I will with Nicholas; "is that it! Yes. Well, well; out reserve or equivocation disclose my real it's not ~o difficult, you see, to tell me, reasons to Mr. Cheeryble, and implore him after dll. Ile offered you his hand." to take immediate measures for removing "' Which I refused," said Kate. this young lady to the shelter of some other "Yes; and why 3" roof." "I told him," she said, in a' trembling "To-day 1 so very soon!" voice, I all that I have since found you told " I have thought of this for weeks, and marnma, and while I could not conceal from why should I postpone it 1 If the scene him, and cannot from you that -that it through which I have just passed has was a pang and a great trial, I did so taught me to reflect and awakened'me to firmly, and begged him not to see me any a more anxious and careful sense of duty, more." why should I wait until the impression has "iThat's my own brave Kate!" said cocAed 3 You would not dissuade me, Kate; Nicholas, pressing her to his breast. " I now would you 3" knew you would." "You may grow rich you know," said "l le tried to alter my resolution," said Kate. Kate, " and declared that be my decision "I may grow rich!" repeated Nicholas, what it might, he would not only inform with a mournful;nile, "ay, and I may his uncles of the step he had taken, but grow old. But rich or poor, or old or young, would communicate it to you also, directly we shall ever be the same to each other you returned. I am afraid," she added, and in that our comfort lies. What if we her momentary composure forsaking her, have but one hoine 3 It can never t: a "I am afraid I mnay not have said strongly solitary one to you and me. XWhat if we enough how highly I felt such disinterested were to remain so true to these first im. love should be regarded, and how earnestly pressions as to form no ~others? It is but I priayed for his future happiness. If you one more link to the strong chain that do talk together, I should-I should like binds us together. It seems but yesterday him to know that." that we were playfellows, Kate, and it " And did you suppose, Kate, when you will seem but to-morrow that we are staid had made this sacrifice to what you knew old people, looking back then to these cares,was right and honourable, that I should as we look back now to those of our childshrilk from mine! " said Nicholas, ten- ish days, and recollecting with a mrnelan. derly. choly pleasure that the time was when they "Oh, no! not;f your position had been could move us. Perhaps then, when we the same, but-" are quaint old folks and talk of the times "But it is the same," interrupted Ni when our step was lighter and our hair not eholas; "Madeline is not the near relation grey, we may be even thankful for tne of our benefactors, but she is closely bound trials that so endeared us to each cther, and i1385 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. turned our lives into that current down you're quite -well and ne'rer better -do which we shall have glided so peacefully now." and calmly. And having caught some ink- "Quite," said Nicholas, shaking him by ling of our story, the youfng people about both hands. us-as young as you and I are now, Kate "Ah!" said Tim, " you look tired though, — shall come to us for sympathy, and pour now I come to look at you. Hark! there distresses which, hope and inexperience he is, d'ye hear him. That was Dick the could scarcely feel enough for, into the black-bird. He hasn't been himself since compasbionate ears of the old bachelor you've been gone. He'd never get on brothel anrd.i. maiden sister." without you now; he takes as naturally to Kate smiled tnrough her tears as Ni- you, as he does to me." cholas diew this picture, but they were not " Dick is a far less sagacious fellow than tears of sorov:, although they continued to I supposed him, if he thinks 1 am half so ill when he ha, c-eased to speak. well worthy of his notice as you," replied." Am I not rnhi. Kate I" he said, after Nicholas. a short silencee "Why I'll tell you what, Sir," said Tim, "Quite, quite, dcar hlther; and I can- standing in his favourite attitude and pointnot tell you how hiapv T amn that I have ing up to the cage with the feather of his acted as you would have ha,' wile." pen, " it's a very extraordinary thing about " You don't regret?" that bird, that the only. people he ever takes "N-n- no," said Kate tirl:id17, tracing the smallest notice of are Mr. Charles and seine pattern upon the grouind,:tni her Mr. Ned and you and me." little foot. "I don't regret haviing lone Here Tim stopped and'glan- ed anxiously -what was honourable and right, oft'c;,rse, at Nicholas; then unexpect dly catching but I do regret that this'should have e~e i his eye repeated, "and you and me, Sir, happened-at least sometimes I regret it, and you and me." And then he glanced at and sometimes I —I don't know what I say; - Nicholas again, and, squeezing his hand, I am but a weak girl Nicholas, and it has caid, 1" I am a bad one at putting off any. agitated me very much." thing I am interested in. I didn't mean to It is no vaunt to affirm that if Nicholas ask you, but I should like to hear a few aad had ten thousand pounds at the minute, particulars about that poor boy. Did he he would, in his generous affection for the mention Cheeryble Brothers at all?" owner of that blushing cheek and downcast "Yes," said Nicholas, " many and many eye, have bestowed its utmost farthing, in a time." perfect forgetfulness of himself, to secure " That was right of him," returned Tim, her happiness. But all he could do was to wiping his eyes, " that was very right of comfort and console her by kind words; him." and words they were of such love and "And he mentioned your name a score kindness and cheerful encouragement, that of times," said Nicholas, " and often bade poor Kate threw her arms about his neck me carry back his love to Mr. Linkinand declared she would weep no more. water." "What man," thought Nicholas proudly, "No, no, did he though?" rejoined Tim, while on his way soon afterwards to the sobbing outright. "Poorfellow! Iwish we Brothers' house, " would not be sufficiently could have had him buried in town. There'ewarded for any sacrifice of fortune, by the isn't such a burying-ground in all London possession of such a heart as that, which, as that little one on the other side of the Iut that hearts weigh light and gold and square-there are counting-houses all round silv.r heavy, is beyond all praise. Frank it, and if you go in there on a fine day you has money and wants no more. Where can see the books and safes through the would it buy him such a treasure as Kate! open windows. And he sent his love to Ard yet in unequal marriages, the rich me, did he? I didn't expect he would pa~ ty is always supposed to make a great have thought of me. Poor fellow, poor fel sacrifice, and the other to get a good bar- low! His love, too!" gan! But I am thinking like a lover, or Tim was so completely overcome by this fik,. an ass, which I suppose is pretty nearly little mark of recollection, that he was the same." quite unequal to any further conversation C hecking thoughts so little adapted to at the moment. Nicholas therefore slipped., tne business on which he was bound by, quietly out, and went to Brother Charles's fucsh self-reproofs' as this and many others room. Ilo less sturdy, he proceeded on his way and If he had previously sustained his firm. presented himself before Tim Linkinwater. ness and fortitude, it had been by an effort " Ah! Mr. Nickleby," cried Tim, "God which had cost him no little pain; but the Bike you i how d've do! Well? Say warm welcome, the hearty manner, the NICHOLAS NICKLEBY 389 ormne y unuffected commiseration of the endeavoured to trace her and become ac. goodl ol man went to his heart, and no in- quainted with her history. I did not tell ward struggle could prevent his showing it. you so, because I vainly thought I could; Come, come, my dear sir," said the conquer my weaker feelings, and render benevolent merchant; " we must not be every consideration subservient to my duty crast down, no, no. We must learn to bear to you." misfortune, and we must remember that " Mr. Nickleby," said brother Charles, there are many sources of-consolation even " you did not violate the confidence I placed in leath. Every day that this poor lad had in you, or take unworthy advantage of it. lined, he must have been less and less qua- I am sure you did not." lified for the world, and more unhappy in "' I did not," said Nicholas, firmly.. his own deficiencies. It is better as it is, "Although I found that the necessity for my dear sir. Yes, yes, yes, it's better as self command and restraint became every it is." day more imperious and the difficulty " I have thought of all that, sir," replied greater, I never for one instant spoke or Nicholas, clearing his throat. "I feel it, I looked but as I would have done had you assure you." been by. I never for one moment deserted "' Yes, that's well," replied Mr. Cheery- my trust, nor have I to this instant. But ble, who, in the midst of all his comforting, I find that constant association and comwas quite as much taken aback as honest panionship with this sweet girl is fatal to old Tim; "that's well. Where is my my peace of mind, and may prove destrucbrother Ned? Tim Linkinwater, sir, where tive to the resolutions I made in the beginis my brother Ned?" ning and up to this time have faithfully "(Gone out with Mr. Trimmers, about kept. In short, sir, I cannot trust myself, getting that unfortunate man into the hos- and I implore and beseech you to remove pital, and sending a nurse to his children," this young lady from under the charge of said Tim. my mother and sister without delay. I " My brother Ned is a fine fellow -a know that to any one but myself-to you great fellow!" exclaimed brother Charles who consider the immeasurable distance as he shut the door and returned to Nicho- between me and this young lady, who is las. "He will be overjoyed to see you, my now your ward' and the object of your pedear sir; we have been speaking of you culiar care-my loving her even in thought every day." must appear the height of rashness and. " To tell you the truth, sir, I am glad to presumption. I know it is so. But who find you alone," said Nicholas, with some can see her as I have seen her,-who can natural hesitation, "- for I am anxious to say know what her life has been, and not love something to you. Can you spare me a her! I have no excuse but that, and as I very few minutes 1" cannot fly from this temptation, and cannot "Surely, surely," returned brother repress this passion with its object conCnarles, looking at him with an anxious stantly before me, what can I do but pray countenance. " Say on, my dear sir, say on." and beseech you to remove it, and to leave "' I scarcely know how or where to be- me to forget her!" gin," said Nicholas. " If ever one mortal " Mr. Nickleby," said the old man, after had reason to be penetrated with love and a short pause, " you can do no more. I was reverence for another, with such attach- wrong to expose a' young man like you to nent as would make the hardest service in this trial. I might have foreseen what his behalf a pleasure and delight, with such would happen. Thank you, sir, thank yen. grateful recollections as must rouse the ut- Madeline shall be removed." most zeal and fidelity of his nature, those " If you would grant metone favour, {'ear are the feelings which I should entertain sir, and suffer her to remember me with for you, and do, from my heart and soul, esteem by never revealing to her this conbelieve me." fession-" "I do believe you," replied the old gen- "I will take care,"-said Mr. Cheeryble. tleman, " and I am happy in the belief. I " And now, is this all you have to tell me?" have never doubted it; I never shall. I "No!" returned Nicholas, meeting his am sure I never shall." eye, "it is not."'Your telling me that so kindly," said "I know the rest," said Mr. Cheeryioe, Nicholas, "emboldens me to proceed. apparently very much relieved by this When you first took me into your confi- prompt reply. " When did it come to your deuce and despatched me on those missions knowledge 1" to Miss Bray, I should have told you that I "When I reached home this morning." had se6i her long before, that her beauty "You felt it your duty immediately to had made an impression upon me which 1 colme to me, and tell me what your"Diset could not efface, and that I had fruitlessly no doubt acquainted vyou with 2" .~JO NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. "I did," said Nicholas, "though I could turned from Nicholas that his face couIWe nave wished to have spoken to Mr. Frank not be seen. He had not spoken either In first." his accustomed manner, but with a certrain "Frank was with me last night," replied stiffhess and embarrassment very fore;ign to the old gentleman. " You have done well, it. Nicholas feared he had ofi-nd-ed ihim. Mr. Nickleby-very well, sir-and I thank He said, "No — no- he had done quite you again." right," but that was all. Upon this head Nicholas requested per- 1" Frank is a heedless, foolish fellow," he mission to add a few words. He ventured said, after Nicholas had paused for s;one to hope that nothing he had said would lead time, "a very heedless, foolish fellow. 1 to the estrangement of Kate and Madeline, will take care that this is brought to a close who had formed an attachment for each without delav. Let us say no more upon other, any interruption of which would, he the subject; it's a very painful one to nle. knew, be attended with great pain to them, Come to me in half an hour, 1 have slrnlige and, most of all, with remorse and pain to things to tell you, my dear Sir, and your him, as its unhappy cause. vVnen these uncle has appointed this afternoon for your things were all forgotten he hoped that waiting upon him with me." Frank and he might still be warm friends, and that no word or thought of his humblei' Waiting upon him! With you, Sir!" home, or of her who was well contented to remain there and share his quiet fortunes, " Ay, with me," replied the old gentle. would ever again disturb the harmony be- man. " Return to me in half an hour, and tween them. He recounted, as nearly as I'll tell you more." he could, what had passed-between him Nicholas waited upon him at the time and Kate that morning; speaking of her mentioned, and then learnt all that had with such warmth of pride and affection, taken place on the previous day, and all and dwelling so cheerfully upon the confi- that was known of the appointment Ralph dence they had of overcoming any selfish had made with the brothers which was for.egrets and living contented and happy in that night, and for the better understalnding each other's love, that few could have of which it will be requisite to return and heard him unmoved. More moved himself follow his own footsteps from the house of than ne had been yet, he expressed in a the twin brothers. Therefore we leave few hurried words-as expressive perhaps Nicholas somewhat reassured by the rp. as the most eloquent phrases-his devotion stored kindness of their manner towards to the brothers, and his hope that he might him. and yet sensible that it we.s diffbrent live and die in their service. from what it had been (though lhe scarcels To all this, brother Charles listened in knew in what respect), and full of uneasiprofound silence, and with his chair so ness, uncertainty, and disquiet. CHAPTER LXII. RALPH MAKES ONE LAST APPOINTMENT -AND KE2EPS IT. CREEPING from the house and slinking coming mournfully and slowly up like a off like a thief, groping with his hands shadowy funeral train. when first he got into the street as if he lie had to pass a poor, nm,an burial. were a blind m*h, and looking often over ground-a dismal place raised a few feet his shoulder while he hurried away, as above the level of the street, and parted though he were followed in imagination or from it by a low parapet wall aild an iron reality by some one anxious to question or railing; a rank, unwholesome, rotten six., detain him, Ralph Nickleby left tile city where the very grass and weeds seemen, behind him ana took the road to his own in their frowsy growth, to tell that they home. had sprung from paupers' bodies, and struck The night was dark, and a cold wind their roots in the graves of men, sodden in blew, drivina the clouds furiously and fast steaming courts and drunken hungry dens. before it. There was one black, glooily And here in truth they lay, parted fromn vass that seemed to follow him; not hur- the living by a little earth and a board or tying in the wild chase with the others, two - lay thick and close - corrupting is but lingering sullenly behind, and gliding' body as they had in mind; a dense and darkly and stealthily on. He often looked squalid crowd. Here they lay cheek by back at this, and more than once stopped jowl with life' no deeper down than the to let it pass over, but somehow, when he feet of the throng that passed there every, eat fbrward again it was still behind himr day, and piled high as their throats. IHere NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 391 they lay, a grisly family, all those dear His own child-his own cnild! tile ni departed brothers and sisters of the ruddy ver doubted the tale; he felt it was true clergyman who did his task so speedily knew it as well now as if he had ibeu ri.t when they were hidden in the ground! vy to it all along. His own child! Ann As he passed here, Ralph called to mind dead too. Dying beside Nicholas-loving that he had been one of a jury long before, him, and looking upon him as something on the body of a man who had cut his like an angel! That was the worst. throat; and that he was buried in this They had all turned from him and do. place. He 6ould not tell how he came to serted him in his very first need, even morecollect it now, when he had so often ney could not buy them now; everything passed and never thought about him, or must cbme out, and everybody must know how it was that he felt an interest in the all. Here was the young lord dead, his circumstance, but he did both, and stopping, companion abroad and beyond his reach, and clasping the iron railings with his ten thousand pounds gone at one blow, his hands, looked eagerly in, wondering which plot with Gride overset at the very moment might be his grave. of triumph, his after schemes discovered, While he was thus engaged, there came himself in danger, the object of his perse. towards him, with noise of shouts and cution and Nicholas's love, his own wretchsinging, some fellows full of drink, followed ed boy; everything crumbled and fallen by others who were remonstrating with upon him, and he beaten down beneath the them and urging them to go home in quiet. ruins and grovelling in the dust. They were in high good-humour, and one If he had known his child to be alive, if of them, a little, weazen, hump-backed n deceit had been ever practised, and he had man, began to dance. He was a grotesque, grown up beneath his eye, he might have fantastic figure, and the' few by-standers been a careless, indifferent, rough, harsh laughed. Ralph himself was moved to father-like enough-he felt that; but the mirth, and echoed the laugh of one who thought would come that he might have stood near and who looked round in his been otherwise, and that his son might have face. When they had passed on and he been a comfort to him and they two happy was left alone again, he resumed his specu- together. He began to think now, that this.ation with a new kind of interest, for he supposed death and his wife's flight had had recollected that the last person who had some share in making him the morose, hard seen the suicide alive had left him very man he was. He seemed to remember 8 merry, and he remembered how strange he'time when he was not quite so rough and and the other jurors'.,i thought that at obdurate, and almost thought that he had the time. first hated Nicholas because he was young He could not fix upon the spot among and gallant, and perhaps like the stripling such a heap of graves, but he conjured up who had brought dishonour and loss of for. a strong and vivid idea of the man himself, tune on his head. and how he looked, and what had led him But one tender thought, or one of natuto do it, all'of which he recalled with ease. ral regret in that whirlwind of passion and By dint of dwelling upt- this theme, he remorse, was as a drop of calm water in a carried the impression wit,. im when he stormy maddened sea. His hatred of Niwent away, as he remembered when a cholas had been fed upon his own defeat, child to have had frequently before tim the nourished on his interference with his figure of some goblin he had onc,, een schemes, fattened upon his old defiance and chalked upon a door. But as he drew success. There were reasons for its innearer and nearer home he forgot it again, crease; it had grown and strengthened and began to think how very dull and soli- gradually. Now it attained a height which tary the house would be inside. was sheer wild lunacy. That his of all This feeling became so strong at last, others should been the hands to rescue his that when he reached his own door, he miserable child, that he should have been could hardly make up his mind to turn the his protector and faithful friend. that he key ant open it-when he had done that should have shown him that love and te-tand gone into the passage, he felt as though derness which from the wretched moment to shut it again would be to shut out the of his birth he had never known, that he world. But he let it go, and it closed with should have taught him to hate his own pa. a loud noise. There was no light. How rent and execrate his very name, that he Yery dreary, cold, and still it was! should now, know and feel all this and tr. Shivering from head to foot he made his umph in the recollection, was gall and madway up stairs into the room where he had ness to the usurer's heart. The dead boy'v been last disturbed. He had mace a kind love for' Nicholas, and the attachment Cof of compact with himself that he would not Nicholas to him, was insupportable agony. think of what had happened until he got The picture of his death-bed, with Nicho> hbime. He was at home now, and suffered las at his side tending and supoorting him, hinhself fdr the first time to consider it. and he breathing out his thanks, and en pir. #392 N IC HOLAS NICKLEB I. Mng in his arms, when he w uld have had tained, and that although it was now mid. them inor;al enemies and hating each other night they had sent in their anxiety to do to the last, drove him frantic. He gnashed right. his teeth and smote the air, and looking "' Yes," cried Ralph, "detain him till to. wildly round, with eyes which gleamed morrow; then let them bring him herethrough the darkness, cried aloud: him and my nephew-and come themselve, "I am trampled down and ruined. The and be sure that I will be ready to receive wretch told me true. Tile night has come. them." Is there no way to rob them of further tri- "At what hour 3" asked the voice. umph, and spurn their mercy and compas- "At any hour," replied Ralph fiercely. sion I Is there no devil to help me?" "In the afternoon, tell them. At any hoan iswiftly there glided again'nto his brain — at any minute-all times will be Oalie the figure he had raised that night. It to me." seemed to lie before him. The head was He listened to the man's retreating foot. covered now. So it was when he first saw steps until the sound had passed, and then it. The rigid, upturned, marble feet too, gazing up into the sky saw, or thought he he remembered well. Then came before saw, the same black cloud that had seemed him the pale and trembling relatives who to follow him home, and which now appear. had told their tale upon the inquest-the ed to hover directly above the house. shrieks of women-the silent dread of men "I know its meaning now," he muttered. -the consternation and disquiet-the vic- "and the restless nights, the dreams, and tory achieved by that heap of clay which why I have quailed of late; —all pointed with one motion of its hand had let out the to this. Oh! if men by selling their own life and made this stir among them- souls could ride rampant for a term, for He spoke no more, but after a pause soft- how short a term would I barter mine to. ly groped his way out of the room, and up night!" the echoing stairs-up to the top-to the - he sound of a deep bell came along the front garret-where he closed the door be- wind. One. hind him, and remained- " Lie on!" cried the usurer, "with your It was a mere lumber-room now, but it iron tongue; ring merrily for births that yet contained an old dismantled bedstead: make expectants writhe, and marriages that the one on which his son had slept, for no are made in hell, and toll ruefully for the other had ever been there. He avoided it dead whose shoes are worn already. Call hastily, and sat down as far from it as he men to prayers who are godly because not could. found out, and ring chimes for the coming The weakened glare of the lights in the in of every year that brings this cursed streets below, shining through the window world nearer to its end. No bell or book,which had no blind or curtain to intercept for me; throw me on a dunghill, and let it, was enough to show the character of the me rot there to infect the air!" room, though not sufficient fully to reveal With a wild look around, in which the various articles of lumber, old corded frenzy, hatred, and despair, were horribly trunks and broken furniture, which were mingled, he shook his clenched hand at scattered about. It had a shelving roof; the sky above hinm, dwhich was still dark high in one part, and at another descend- and threatening, and closed the window. ing almost to the floor. It was towards the The rain and hail pattered against the highest part that Ralph directed his eyes, glass, the zhimneys quaked and rocked; and upon it he kept them fixed steadily for the crazy casement rattled with the wind some minutes, when he rose, and dragging as though an impatient hand inside were thither an old chest upon which he had striving to burst it open. But no hand was been seated, mounted upon it, and felt along there, and it opened no more. the wall above his head with both hands. * * * * * At length they touched a large iron hook " How's this?" cried one, "the gentle. firmly driven into one of the beams. men say they can't make anybody hear, At that moment he was interrupted by a and have been trying these two hours l" toud knocking at the door below. After a -" And yet he cane home last night," little hes tation he onened the window, and said another, "for he spoke to somebody demanded who It was. out of that window up stairs." " I want Mr. Nickleby,' rep'ied a voice. They were a little knot of men, and, the "What with him?" window being mentioned, went out in the "That's not Mr. Nickleby's voice sure- i road to look up at it. This occasioned theil tye was the rejoinder. observing that the house was still close It was not like it; but it was Ralpll who shut, as the housekeeper had said she had spoke, and so he said., left it on the previous n;ight, an, led to a The voice made answer that the twin great many suggestions, which terminated amthers wished to know whether the man in two or three of the boldest getting round s:L. De nad seen that night was to be de- to the back ag" e entering o vu e wid;o NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 393 whf'e the others remained outside in im- it open looked through the chink, and fell patie It expectation. back directly. They looked into all the rooms below, "It's very odd," he whispered, "he's opening the shutters as they went to admit hiding behind the door! Look i"! the fading light; and still finding nobody, and everything quiet and in its place, They pressed forward to see, but one doubted whether they should go farther. amongthemthrustingtheothersasidewith One man, however, remarking that they aloud exclamation, drew a clasp knife from had not yet been into the garret, and that his pocket and dashing into the room cut it was there he had been last seen, they down the body. tg3 eed to look there too, and wer. up soft- He rad torn a rope from nne of tne old ly, for the mystery and silence made them trunks and hung himself on an iron hook timnid. immediately below the trap-door in the After they had stood for an instant on ceiling-in the very place to which the eyes the landing eyeing each other, he who had of his son, a lonely, desolate, little creature, proposed their carrying the search so far had so often been directed in childish terror, turned the handle of the door, and pushing fourteen years before. CHAPTER LXIIL THE BROTHERS CHEERYBLE MAKE VARIOUS DECLARATIONS FOR THEM SELVES AND OTHERS; AND TIM LINKINWATER MAKES A DECLARATION FdR H-IMSELF. SoME weeks had passed, and the first "I wouldn't be absurd, my dear, if I shock of these events had subsided. Made- were you," replied Mrs. Nickleby, in a line had been removed; Frank had been lofty manner, "because it's not by any absent; and Nicholas and Kate had begun means becoming, and doesn't suit you At to try in good earnest to stifle their own all. What I mean to say is, that the MT. regrets, and to live for each other and for Cheerybles don't ask us to dinner with all their mother, who, poor lady, could in no this ceremony for nothing. Never mind, wise be reconciled to this dull and altered wait and see. You won't believe anystate of affairs, when there came one eve- thing I say, of course. It's much better ning, per favour of Mr. Linkinwater, an to wait, a great deal bettem, it's satisfactory invitation from the Brothers to dinner on to all parties, and there can be no dispute the next day but one, comprehending not ing. All I say is, remember what I say only Mrs. Nickleby, Kate, and Nicholas, now, and when I say I said so, don't iay but, little Miss La Creevy, who was most I didn't." particularly mentioned. With this stipulation, Mrs. Nickleby, "Now, my dears," said Mrs. Nickleby, who was troubled night and day with a vhen they had done becoming honour to vision of a hot messenger tearing up to the me bidding, and Tim had taken his depar- door to announce that Nicholas had been ture, " what does this mean " taken into partnership, quitted that branch "What do you mean, mother!" asked of the subject, and entered upon a new one. Nicholas, smiling. "It's a very extraordinary thing," she "I say, my dear," rejoined that lady, said, "'a most extraordinary thing, that with a face of unfathomable mystery, they should have invited Miss La Creevy., what does this invitation to dinner mean, It quite astonishes me, upon my word it - what is its intention and object." does. Of course it's very pleasant that 1 conclude it means, that on such a day she should he invited, very pleasant, and we are to eat and drink in their house, and I have no doubt that she'll conduct herself that its intent and object is to confer plea- extremely well; she always dqes. It's sure upon us," said Nicholas very gratifying to think that we rhould "And that's all you conclude it is, my have been the means of introducing her dear'" into such society, and I'm quite glad of it, "I have not yet arrived at anything quite rejoiced, for she r~ertainly is an exdeeper, mother."' ceedingly well-behaved and good-natured "Then 1'll just tell you one thing," said little person. I could wish that o0me Mrs. Nickleby, " you'll find yourself a little friend would mention to her how very badsurprised, that's all. You may depend ly she has her cap trimmed, and what upon it that this means something besides very preposterous bows thospf are, bbut of!inner." course that's i npossible; ajd if.he l.eu "Tea and supper, perhaps," suggested to make a fright of herself, no doubt she TNishoas,. has a perfect r gkt to d so 0. WQe 354 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. see ourselves never do and never did - Kate, gently. "I thought she would ndC and I suppose we never shall." have forgotten me quite so soon." This moral reflection reminding her of "Ah!" said the old man, patting her 3n the necessity of being peculiarly smart the head and speaking as afiectionately as upon the occasion, so as to counterbalance if she had been his favourite child. "Poor Miss La Creevy, and be herself an effbc- dear! what do you think of this, brother N ed1 tual set-off and atonement, led Mrs. Nickle- Madeline has only written toher once —orly by into a consultation with her daughter once, Ned, and she didn't think she would relative to certain ribands, gloves, and trim- have forgotten her quite so soon, Ned." mings, which, being a complicated question, "Oh! sad, sad-very sad!" said Ned. and one of paramount importance, soon rout- The brothers interchanged a g]anc6e ed the previous one, and put it to flight. and looking at Kate for a little time w ithThe great day arriving, the good lady out speaking, shook hands, and nodded as put herself under Kate's hands an hour or if they were congratulating each other so after breakfast, and, dressing by easy upoin something very delightful.,stages, completed her toilet in sufficient " Well, well," said brother Charles, 1" go time to allow of her daughter's making into that room, my dear, that door yonder, hers, which was very simple and not very and see if there's not a letter for you from long, though so satisfactory that she had her. I think there's one upon the table. never appeared more charming or looked You needn't hurry back, my love, if there more lovely. Miss La Creevy, too, arrived is, for we don't dine just yet, and there's with two bandboxes (whereof the bottoms plenty of time-plenty of time." fell out as they were handed from the Kate retired as she was directed, and coach) and something in a newspaper, brother Charles having followed her grace. which a gentleman had sat upon, coming ful figure with his eyes, turned to Mrs. down, and which was obliged to be ironed Nickleby and said - again before it was fit for service. At last "We took the liberty of naming one every body was dressed, including Nicho- hour before the real dinner-time, ma'am, las, who had come home, to fetch them, and because we had a little business to speak they went away in a coach sent by the about, which would occupy the interval. Brothers for the purpose: Mrs. Nickleby Ned, my dear fellow, will you mention w'ondering very much what they would what we agreed'upon? Mr. Nickleby, Sir, have for dinner, and cross-examining Nicho- have the goodness to follow me." las as to the extent of his discoveries in the Without any further explanation, Mrs. morning, whether he had smelt anything Nickleby, Miss La Creevy, and brothel cooking at all like turtle, and if not, what Ned, were left alone together, and Nichohe had smelt; and diversifying the con- las followed brother Charles into his priva,:!: versation with reminiscences of dinners to room, where to his great astonishment he which she had gone some twenty years encountered Frank whom he supposed to ago, concerning which she particularized be abroad. not only the dishes but the guests, in whom "Young men," said Mr. Cheeryble, her hearers did not feel a very absorbing " shake hands." interest, as not one of them had ever'"I need no bidding to do that," said chanced to hear their names before. Nicholas, extending his. The old butler received them with pro- "Nor I," rejoined Frank, as he clasped found respect and many smiles, and usher- it heartily. ed them into the.drawing-room, where The old gentleman thought that two handthey were received by the Brothers with somer or finer young fellows could scarce. so much cordiality and kindness that Mrs. ly stand side by side than those on whom Nickleby was quite in a flutter, and had he looked with so much pleasure. Sufferscarcely presence of mind enough even to ing his eyes to rest upon them for a short. patronise Miss La Creevy. Kate was still time in silence, he said, while he seated more affected by the reception, for know- himself at his desk, ing that the Brothers were acquainted "I wish to see you friends'- clcse and with all that had passed between her and firm friends-and if I thought you other. Frank, she felt her position a most delicate wise, I should hesitate in what I arm and trying one, and was trembling upon about to say. Frank, look here. Mr. Nicthe arm of Nicholas when Mr. Charles kleby, will you come on the other side I" took her in his, and led her to another part The young men stepped up on either of the room. hand of brother Charles, who produced a " Have you seen Madeline, my dear," paper from his desk and unfolded it. ti said, " since she left your house." "This," he said, " is a copy of the will "No, Sir," replied Kate. "Not once." of Madeline's maternal grandfather, -e. "And not heard from her, ehb Not queathing her the sum of twelve thousand Ward from her." pounds, payable either upon he~ coming of "I have only had one letter," rejoined l age or marrying. It would appear that NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 95 his gentleman, angry with her (his only told. She chooses you, Mr. Nickleby. She relation) because she would not put herself chooses as we, her dearest friends, would under his protection, and detach herself have her choose. Frank chooses as we from the society of her father, in compli- would have him choose. He should have,ce with his repeated overtures, made a your sister's little hand. sir, if' she had reill, lea ing this property, which was all fused it a score of times-ay, he should, le possessed, to a charitable institution. and he shall! You acted nobly not knowlIe would seem to have repented this de- ing our sentiments, but now you know ermriation, however, for three weeks af- them, sir, and must do as you are bid. erwards. and in the same month, he exe- What! You are the children of a worthy rated this. By some fraud it was abstractec gentleman! The time was, sir, when my immediately after his decease, and the dear brother Ned and I were two poor simother-the only will found-was proved and ple-hearted boys, wandering almost bareadministered. Friendly negotiations, which foot to seek our fortunes; are we changed hlave only just now terminated, have been in any thing but years and worldly circumproceeding since this instrument came irto stances since that time'! No, God forbid! our hands, and as there is no doubt of its Oh, Ned, Ned, Ned, what a happy day this authenticity, and the witnesses have been is for you and me; if our poor mother had discovered (after some trouble), the money only lived to see us now, Ned, how proud has been refunded. Madeline has, there- it would have made her dear heart at last!" fore, obtained her right, and is, or will be, Thus apostrophised, brother Ned, who when either of the contingencies which I had entered with Mrs. Nickleby, and who have mentioned has arisen, mistress of had been before unobserved by the young this fortune. You understand me'" men, darted forward, and fairly hugged Frank replied in the affirmative. Nicho- brother Charles in his arms. las, who could not trust himself to speak "Bring in my little Kate," said the latlest his voice should be heard to falter, ter, after a short silence. "Bring her in, bowed his head. Ned. Let me see Kate, let me kiss her. "Now, Frank," said the old gentleman, I have a right to do so now; I was very " you were the immediate means of reco- near it when she first came; I have often vering this deed. The fortune is but a been very near it. Ah! Did you find the small one, but we love Madeline, and such letter, my bird? Did you find Madeline as it is, we would rather see you allied to herself, waiting for you and expecting you? oer with that, than to any other girl we Did you find that she had not quite forknow who has three times the money. gotten her friend and nurse and sweet comrn. Will you become a saitor to her for her panion 1 Why, this is almost the best of hand!" all!" "No, sir; I inr rcested myself in the re- "Come, come," said Ned, " Frank will covery of that nstrument, believing that be jealous, and we shall have some cutting her hand wa: already pledged to one who of throats before dinner." has a thousand times the claims upon her "Then let him take her away, Ned, let gratitude, and, if I mistake not, upon her him take her away. Madeline's in the heart, than I or any other man can ever next room. Let all the lovers get out of,uge. In this it seems I judged hastily." the way, and talk among themselves, if'As you always do, sir," cried brother they've any thing to say. Turn'em out, Charles, utterly forgetting his assumed dig- Ned, every one." nity, "as you always do. How dare you Brother Charles began the clearance by think, Frank, that we would have you marry leading the blushing girl himself to the for money, when youth, beauty, and every door, and dismissing her with a kiss. Frank amiable virtue and excellence, were'o be was not very slow to follow, and Nicholas aad for love? How dared you, Frank, go had disappeared first of all. So there and make love to Mr. Nickleby's sister only remained Mrs. Nickleby and Miss La withkat: telling us first what you meant to Creevy, who were both sobbing heartily; co, and letting us speak for you?" the two brothers, and Tim Linkinwater, "I hardly dared to hope." who now came in to shake hands with "You hardly dared to hope! Then, so every body, his round face: all radiant and mauch the greater reason for having our beaming with smiles. tssistance. Mr. Nickleby, sir, Frank, al- "Well, Tim Linkinwater, sir," said brothough he judged hastily, judged for once ther Charles, who was always spokesman,orrectly. Madeline's heart is occupied — "now the young folks are happy, sir." give rml e your hand,,sir; it is occupiec by "You didn't keep'em in suspense as you, and worthily and naturally. This for- long as you said you would, though,' retune is destined to be yours, bult you have turned Tim, archly. ", Why, Mr. Nickleby a greater fortune in her, sir, than you and Mr, Frank were to have been m yoar would have in money were it forty times ioom or I don't know how long; aud I 1896 NICHGLAS NICKLEBY. don't tnomw what you weren't to have told i "Do laugh," said Tim, " or I'll cry."' thenl before you came out with the truth." "Why should you cry " asked Miss "Now di4l you ever know such a villain La Creevy, smiling. as this, Ned?" said tile old gentleman, "Because I'm happy too," said Tim. "did you ever know such a villain as Tim "W Ve are both happy, and I should like to Linkinwate3rl He accusing me of being do as you do." impatient, and he the very mar. who has Surely there never was a man who been wearying us morning, noon, and night, fidgeted as Tim must have done then, for and tortur ing us for leave to go and tell'em he knocked the window again - almost in what was in store, before our plans were the same place -and Miss La Creevy half complete, or we had arranged a single said she was sure he'd break it. thing —a treacherous dog!" " I knew," said Tim, " that you would be "' So he is, brother Charles," returned pleased with this scene." Ned, i" Tim is a treacherous dog. Tim is I "It was very thoughtful and kind to re. not to be trusted. Tim is a wild young member me," returned Miss La Creevy. fellow-he wants gravity and steadiness; " Nothing could have delighted me half so he must sow his wild oats, and then per- imuch." haps he'll- become in time a respectable Why on earth should Miss La Creevy member of society." and Tim Linkinwater have said all this in This being one. of the standing jokes be- a whisper? It was no secret. And why tween the old fellows and Tim, they all should Tim Linkinwater have looked so three laughed very heartily, and might hard at Miss La Creevy, and why should have laughed much longer, but that the Miss La Creevy have looked so hard at the brothers seeing that Mrs. Nickleby was la- ground? bouring to express her feelings, and was "It's a pleasant thing," said Tim, " to really overwhelmed by the happiness of people like us, who have passed all our the time, took her between them, and led lives in the world alone, to see young folks her from the room under pretence of hav- that we are fond of brought together with ing to consult her on some most important so many years of happiness before them." arrangements. "Ah!" cried the little woman with al. Now Tim and Miss La Creevy had met her heart, " that it is!" very often, and had always been very chatty "Although," pursued Tim-" although and pleasant together-had always been it makes one feel quite solitary and cast great friends —and consequently it was the away-now don't it?" most natural thing in the world that Tim, Miss La Creevy said she didn't know. finding that she still sobbed, should endea- And why should she say she didn't know? vour to console her. As Miss La Creevy Because she must have known whether it sat on a large old-fashioned window-seat, did or not. where there was ample room for two, it "It's almost enough to make us get marwas also natural that Tim should sit down tied after all, isn't it?" said Tim. beside her; and as to Tim's being unusually "Oh nonsense!" replied Miss La Crewspruce and particular in his attire that day, vy, laughino, "we are too old." why it was a high festival and a great oc- " Not a bit," said Tim, "we are too old casioni and that was the most natural thing to be single-why shouldn't we both be Of all. married instead of sitting through the long Tim sat down beside Miss La Creevy, winter evenings by our solitary firesides. and crossing one leg over the other so that Why shouldn't we make one fireside of it, his fbot —he had very comely feet, and and marry each other? " happened to be wearing the neatest shoes " Oh Mr. Linkinwater, you're joking!" and black silk stockings possible-should "No, no, I'm not. I'm not indeed," said ctene easily within the range of her eye, Tim. " I will if you will. Do, my dear." maid'in a soothing way: " It would make people laugh so." "Don't cry." "Let'emn laugh," cried Tim, stoutly, " I Inust," rejoined Miss La Creevy. "we have good tempers I know, and well "No Jdon't," said Tim. "Pleasedon't; laugh too. Why what hearty laughs we rlay don't" have had since we've known each other." 6"I am so' happy!" sobbed the little ", So we have," cried Miss La Creevv — Z, oma'. giving way a little, as Tim thought. "'fnen laigh," said Tim1 " do laugh." "It has been the happiest time in all What, the world Tim was doing with my life-at least, away from the countinghis arm it is impossible to conjecture, but house and Cheeryble Brothers," said Tin. hebnocked his elbow against that part of "Do, my dear. Now say you will." nhe window which was quite on the other "No, no, we mustn't think of it," re. Side of Mmus La Creevv; an i; is clear Iturned Miss La Creevy.,' M, hat would ihAt it it t;od have: no business thale.: the Brothers say I NICHOLAS NIC KLEBY. Bl Why, God bless your soul!" cried often have 1 inquired for you, anoa een Tim, innocently, " you don't suppose I told that I should hear before lonfr!" should think of such a thing without their "I know, I know, returned Newman knowirg it! Why they left us here on "they wanted all the happiness to come purpose." together. I've been helping,'em. I —I"I can never look'em in the face again!" look at me, Nick, look at me." exclaimed Miss La Creevy, faintly. " You would never let me do that." Come," said Tim, "let's be a cornm- said Nicholas, in a tone of gentle reproach. fortable cou jle. We shall live in the old I "I didn't mind what I was then. A house here, where I have been for four-and- shouldn't have had the heart to put on Torty year; we shall go to the old church, I gentleman's clothes. They would have; where I've been every Sunday morning all reminded me of old times and made me through that time; we shall have all my miserable; I am another man now, Nick. old friends about us-Dick, the archway, My dear boy, I can't speak-don't say any the pump, the flower-pots, and Mr. Frank's thing to me-don't think the worse of me children, and Mr. Nickleby's children, that for these tears-you don't know what' we shall seem like grandfather and grand- feel to-day; you can't and never will!" mothertoo. Let'sbeacomfortable couple, They walked in to dinner arm-in-arm, and take care of each other, and if we and sat down side by side. should get deaf, or lame, or blind, or bed- Never was such a dinner as that since ridden; how glad we shall be that we have the world began. There was the supersomebody we are fond of always to talk annuated bank clerk Tim Linkinwater's to and sit with! Let's be a comfortable frie'nd, and there was the chubby old lady couple. Now do, my dear.". Tim Linkinwater's sister, and there was Five minutes after this honest and so much attention from Tim Linkinwater's straight-forward speech, little Miss La sister to Miss La Creevy, and there were Creevy and Tim were talking as pleasantly so many jokes from the superannuated bank as if they had been married for a score clerk, and Tim Linkinwater himself -was of years, and had never once quarrelled all in such tiptop spirits, and little Miss La the time; and five minutes after that, when Creevy was in such a comical state, that Miss La Creevy had bustled out to see if of themselves they would have composed ter eyes were red and put herhair to rights, the pleasantest party conceivable. Then Tim moved with a stately step towards there was Mrs. Nickleby so grand and the drawing-room, exclaiming as he went, complacent, Madeline and Kate so blush"There an't such another woman in all ing and beautiful, Nicholas and Frank sc London-I know there an't." devoted and proud, and all four so silently By this time the apoplectic butler was and tremblingly happy-there was Newnearly in fits, in consequence of the un- man so subdued yet so overjoyed, and there neard of postponement of dinner. Nicho- were the twin Brothers se delighted and las, who had been engaged in a manner interchanging such looks) that the old serwhich every reader may imagine for him- vant stood transfixed behind his master's self or herself, was hurrying down stairs in chair and felt his eyes grow dim as they obedience to his angry summons when he wandered round the table. encountered a new surprise. When the first novelty of the meeting Upon his way down, he overtook in one had worn off, and they began truly to feel,f the passages a stranger genteelly dressed how happy they were, the conversation in black who was also moving towards the became more general and the harmony and lining-room. As he was rather lame and pleasure if possible increased. rhe Browalked slowly Nicholas lingered behind, thers were in a perfect ecstasy, and their and was following him step by step, won- insisting on saluting the ladies all round dering who he was, when he suddenly before they would permit them to retire, turned round and caught him by both gave occasion to the superannuated bank hands. clerk to say so many good things that he "Newman Noggs!" cried Nicholas joy- quite outshone himself, and was looked fally. upon as a prodigy of humor. "Ah! Newman, your own Newman, "Kate, my dear," said Mrs. Nickleby, your oan old faithful Newman. My dear taking her daughter aside directly they oy. my'dear Nick, I give you joy- got up stairs, "you don't really mean to healrn, happiness, every blessing. I can't tell me that this is actually true about Miss bear;t, it's too much, my dear boy-it. La Creevy and Mr. Linkinwater?" makes a child of me!" " Indeed it is, mamma." "Where have you been?" said Nicho- " Vhy I never heard such a thing Lm W Ias, "what have you been doingS How life!" exclaimed Mrs. Nickleby. 398 N ICHiOLAS NICKL. LB Y "Mir. Lnis)inowate is a most excellentI Shakinr her head very emphatically in creature," reasoneo Kate, "and for his deed, Mrs. Nickleby swept away; and al. agce, quite young still." the evening, in the midst of the merrimeni "For his age, my dear!" returned Mrs. and enjoyment that ensued, and in which Nickleby, "yes; nobody says anything with that exception she freely participated, against him, except that I think he is the conducted herself towards Miss La Creevy weakest and most foolish man I ever in a stately and distant manner, designed knew. It's her age 1 speak of. That he to mark her sense of the impropriety of her should have gone and offered himself to a conduct, and to signify her extreme and woman who must be-ah, half as old again cutting disapprobation of the misdens'iman as I am, and that she should have dared she had so flagiantly committtd. to accept him! It don't signify, Kate;I'm disgusted with her!" CHAPTER LXIV. AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE IS RECOGNISED UNDER MELANCHOLY CIRCUMSTANCES, AND DOTHIEBOYS HALL BREAKS UP FOR EVER. NICHOLAS was one of those whose joy They had to go westward. to procure some is incomplete unless it is shared by the little necessaries for his journey, and as it friends of adverse and less fortunate days. was a fine night, they agreed to walk there Surrounded by every fascination of love and ride home. and hope, his warm heart yearned towards The place they had just been in called plain John Browdie. He remembered their up so many recollections, and I(ate had nrst meeting with a smile, and their second so many anecdotes of Madeline, and with a tear; saw poor Smnike once again Nicholas so many anecdotes of Frank, with the bundle on his shoulder trudging and each was so interested in what the patiently by his side, and heard the honest other said, and both were so happy and Yorkshireman's rough words of encourage- confiding, and had so much to talk about,;sant as he left them on their road to Lon- that it was not until they had plunged for ion. a full half hour into that labyrinth of Madeline and he sat down very many streets which lies between Seven Dials times, jointly to produce a letter which and Soho without emnerging into any large should acquaint John at full lent.l vwth thoroughfare that Nicholas began to think his altered fortunes, and assure him of his it just possible they might have lost their friendship and gratitude. It so happened, way. nowever, that the letter could never be The possibility was soon converted into written. Although they applied them- a certainty for onlooking about, and walkselves to it with the best intentions in the ing first to one end of the street, and then world, it chanced that they always fell to to the other, he could find no land-mark talking about something else, and when he cmuld recognise, and' was faiin to turn Nicholas tried it by himself, he found it back again in quest of some place at which impossible to write one half of what he i he could seek a direction. wishe:l to say, or to pen anything, indeed, It was a by-street, and there was nobody which on re-perusal'did not appear cold about, or in the few wretched shops they and unsatisfactory comi ared with what he passed. Making towards a faint glearn ol had in his niind. At last, after going on light, which streamed across the pavement thus from day to day, and reproaching from a cellar, Nicholas was about to de. himself more and more, he resolved (the scend two or three steps so as to render more readily as Madeline strongly urged himself visible to those below and make him) to makte a hasty trip into Yorkshire, his inquiry, when he was arrested by a and present himself before Mr. and Mrs. loud noise of scolding in a woman's voice Browdie without a word of notice. "Oh come away!" said Kate, "the) Thus it was that between seven and are quarrelling. You'll be hurt." eight o'clock one evening, he and Kate " Wait one instant, Kate. Let us hea: futnnd themselves in the Saracen's Head if there's anything the matter," returned booking-office, securing a place to Greta her brother. 1"Hush!" Bridge by. tle next riornling's coach. " You nasty, idle, vicious, gooct-fo NICHOLAS NICK LEBY. 399 tthing brute," cried the woman, starmp- will never be naughty again; I beg its ing on the ground,' why don't you turn little pardon," said Mr. Mantalini, dropthe mangle 1" ping the handle of the mangle, and folding',So I amn, my life and soul!" replied a his palms together, " It is all up with its man's voice. " I am always turning, I handsome friend, he has grone to the demam perpetually turning, like a demd old nition bow-wows. It will have pity l it torse in a deminition mill. My life is one will not scratch and claw, but pet and anld horrid grind!" comfort! Oh, demmit." " Then why don't you go and list for a Very little affected, to judge from her eildier'!" retorted the woman, " you're action, by this tender appeal, the lady was we.come to." on the point of returning some angry re.'" For a soldier!" cried the man. " For ply, when Nicholas, raising, his voice, a soldier! Would his joy and gladness asked his way to Piccadilly. see hin in a coarse red coat with a little Mr. Mantalini turned round, caught tail?. Would she hear of his being slap- sight of Kate, and, without another word ped and beat by drummers dernnebly? leapt at one bound into a bed which stood Would she have him fire off real guns, behind the door, and drew the co)unterpane and have his hair cut and his whiskers over his face, kicking meanwhile convul shaved, and his eyes turned right and left, sively. and his trousers pipe-clayed 3" "Demmit," he cried, in a suffocating " Dear Nicholas," whispered Kate, voice, "it's little Nickleby! Shut' the " you don't know who that is. It's Mr. door, put out the candle, turn me up in the Mantalini, I am confident." bedstead; oh, dem, dem, dem!" "Do make sure; peep at him while I The woman looked first at Nicholas, ask the way," said Nicholas. " Come and then at Mr. Mantalini, as if uncertain down a step or two-come." on whom to visit this extraordinary behaDrawing her after him, Nicholas crept viour, but Mr. Mantalini happening by ill down the steps and looked into a small luck to thrust his nose from under the boarded cellar. There, amidst clothes- bed-clothes, in his anxiety to ascertain baskets and clothes, stripped to his shirt- whether the visitors were gone, she sudsleeves, but wearing still an old patched denly, and with a dexterity which cculd pair of pantaloons of superlative make, a only have been acquired by long practice, once brilliant waistcoat, and moustache flun a pretty heavy clothes-basket at him, and whiskers as of yore, but lacking their with so good an aim that he kicked more lustrous dye-there, endeavouring to mol- violently than before, though without venlify ^tne wrath of a buxom female, the turing to make any effort to disengage proprietress of the concern, and grinding his head, which was quite extinguished meanwhile as if for very life at the man- Thinking this a favourable opportunity for gle, whose creaking noise, mingled with departing before any of the torrent of her her shrill tones, appeared almost to deafen wrath discharged itself upon him, Nicho him-there was the graceful, elegant, fas- las hurried Kate off, and left the unfortu einating, and once dashing Mantalini. nate subject of this unexpected recogni"Oh you false traitor!" cried the lady, tion to explain his conduct as he best threatening personal violence on Mr. Man- could. talini's face. The next morning he began his jour " False! Oh, dem! Now my soul, ney. It was now cold, winter weather, my gentle, captivating, bewitching, and forcibly recalling to his mind under what most demnibly enslaving chick-a-biddy, circumstances he had first travelled that be calmn," said Mr. Mantalini, humbly. road, and how many vicissitudes and " I won't!" screimed the woman. " I'll changes he had since undergone. Ile was tear your eyes out!" alone inside- the greater part of the way,, "Oh! What a demd savage lamb/!" and sometimes, when he had fallen into a cried Mr. Mantalini. 7 doze, and rousing himself, looked out of "You're never to be trusted," screamed the window, and recognised some plaee the woman, "you were out all day yester- which he well remembered as having day, and gallivanting somewhere, 1 know passed, either on his journey down, or in -you know you were. Isn't it enoug- the long walk back with poor Smike, he that I paid two pound fourteen for you, could hardly believe but that all which and took you out of prison and let you had since happened had been a dream, live here like a gentlernan, but mumt you and that they were still plodding wearily go on like this: breaking my heart be- on towards London, with the world before sides 1" them. I will never break its heart I will be To render these recollections the more a good boy and never do so any more; I vivid, it came on to snow as night set in 30 NICHOLAS NICKLEB Y. and passing thtrough Stamford and Gran- "You know it tnhen!' said Nicholas. tham, and by the little ale-house where "They were talking aboot it doon tocn he had heard the story of the bold Baron last neeght," replied John, " but neane on of Grogswig, every thing looked as if he'emn seelned quite to un'erstan' it loike." had seen it but yesterday, and not even a "After various shiftings and delays,' flake of the white crust upon the roofs said Nicholas, "he has been sentenced to had melted away. Encouraging the train be transported for seven years, for being in of ideas which flocked upon him, he could the unlawful possession of a stolen vi!ll; almost persuade himself that he sat again and after that, he has to suffer the ccn.se outside the coach, with Squeers and the quence of a conspiracy." boys, that he heard their voices in tile air, " Whew!" cried John, "' a conspiracy! and that he felt again, but with a mingled Soomnat in the pooder plot wa'-elehl Sooam. sensation of pain and pleasure now, that a't in the Guy Faurx line?" ol(1 sinking of the heart and longring after " No, no, no, a conspiracy connected home. Wb ile he was yet yielding him- with his school; I'll explain it presently." self up to these fancies he fell asleep, and, "Thot's reeght!" said John, " explain dreaming of Madeline, forgot them. it arter breakfast, not noo, for thou bees't He slept at the inn at Greta Bridge on hoongry, and so am I; and Tilly she muin' the night of his arrival, and, rising at a be at the bottom o' a' explanations, for she very early hour next morning, walked to says thot's the mutual confidence. Ha, the market town, and inquired for John ha, ha! Ecod it's a room start is the Browdie's house. John lived in the out- mutual confidence!" skirts now he was a family man, and, as The entrance of Mrs. Browdie with a everybody knew him, Nicholas had no smart cap on and very many apologies for difficulty in finding a boy who undertook their having been detected in the act of to guide him to his residence. breakfasting in the kitchen, stopped John Dismissing his guide at the gate, and in in his discussion of this grave subject, and his impatience not evein stopping to admire hastened the breakfast, which being comthe thriving look of cottage or garden posed of vast mounds of toast, new-laid either, Nicholas made his way to the eggs, boi'd ham, Yorkshire pie, and other kitchen door, and knocked lustily with his cold subs'tntials (of which heavy relays stick. were constantly appearing from another " Ialloa!" cried a voice inside, " waat kitchen under the direction of a very plump be the matther noo ] Be the toon a-fire? servant), was admirably adapted to tlhe Ding, but thou mak'est noise eneaf!" cold bleak morning, and received the ut, With these words John Browdie opened most justice from all parties. At last it the door himself, and opening his eyes too caine to a close, and the fire which had to their utmost width, cried, as he clapped been lighted in the best parlour having by his hands together and burst into a hearty this time burnt up, they adjourned thither roar, to hear what Nicholas had to tell. Ecod, it be the godfeyther, it be the Nicholas told them all, and never was godfcyther! Tilly, here be Misther Nick- there a story which awakened so many leby. Gi' us thee hond, mun. Coom awa', emotions in the breasts of two eager listen coom awa.' In wi' un, doon beside the ers. At one time honest John groaned in fire; tak' a soop o' thot. Dinnot say a sympathy, and at another roared with joy; word till thou'st droonk it a', oop wvi' it, at one time he vowed to go up to London mun. Ding! but I'm reeght glod to see on purpose to get a sight of the Brothers thee." Cheeryble, and at another swore that'lim.dapting his action to his text, John Linkinwater should receive such a ham by:1ragged Nicholas into the kitchen, forced coach, and carriage free, as mortal knife nu(n down upon a huge settle beside a blaz- had never carved. When Nicholas beraln ing fire, poured out fromn an enormous bottle to describe Madeline, he sat with his aboct a quarter of a pint of spirits, thrust mouth wide open nudging Mrs. Browdie it into his hand, opened his mouth and from time to time, and exclairninog under threw back his head as a sign to him to his breath that she must be "raa'ther a tidy drink it instantly, and stood with a broad sort," and when he heard at last that his grin of welcome overspreading his great young friend had come down purposely tom red face, like a jolly giant. commulnicate his good fortune, aid to con' 1 mighlt ha' knowa'd," said John, vey to him all those assurances of friend"that nobody but thou would ha' coorn wi' ship which he could not state with suffisike a knock as you. Thot was the wa' cient warmth in writing-that the only thou knocked at schloolmeasther's dooreht object of his journey was to shalre his Ha, na, ha! But I sayv-waa't be a' this happiness with them, and to tell tihem thai abont schoolmneasther | when he iras married thev must come upa NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. 4itl to set him, and that Madeline insisted on school according to custom with the large it as well as he-John could hold out no bowl and spoon, followed by Miss Squeers longer, but after looking indignantly at his and the anmiable Wackford, who (uring wife and demanding to know what she his father's absence had taken upon him was wimpering for, drew his coatsleeve such minor branches of the executive as over his eyes and blubbered outright. kicking the pupils with his nailed boots, "Telle'e waa't though," said John seri- pulling the hair of some of the smaller ously, when a great deal had been said on boys, pinching the others in aggravating both sides, "to return to schoolmleasther: places, and rendering.himself in various if this news aboot'tn has reached school similar ways a great comfort and hapto-day, the old'ooman wean't have a whole piness to his mother. Their entrancee boan in her boddy, nor Fanny neither." whether by premeditation or a simultane" Oh John!" cried Mrs. Browdie. ous impulse, was the signal of revolt. " Ah! and Oh John agean," replied the While one detachment rushed to the dooi Vorkshireman. "' I dinnot know what and locked it, and another mounted upon they lads mightn't do. When it first got the desks and forms, the stoutest (and aboot that schoolmeasthet was in trouble, consequently the newest) boy seized the soom feythers and moothers sent and took cane, and confronting Mrs. Squeers with their young chaps awa'. If them as is left a stern countenance, snatched off her cap should know waa'ts coom tiv'un, there'll and beaver-bonnet, put it on his own head, be sike a revolution and rebel! -Ding! armed himself with the wooden spoon, and But I think they'll a' gang daft, and spill bade her, on pain of death, go down upon bluid like wather!" her knees, and take a dose directly. Bein fact John Browdie's apprehensions fore that estimable lady could recover herwere so strong that he determined to ride self or offer the slightest retaliation, she over to the school without delay, and in- was forced into a kneeling posture by a vited Nicholas to accompany him, which crowd of shouting tormentors, and comhowever he declined, pleading that his pelled to swallow a spoonful of the odious presence might perhaps aggravate the bit- mixture, rendered more than usually saterness of their adversity. voury by the immersion in the bowl of "Thot's true!" said John,'"I should Master Wackford's head, whose ducking ne'er ha' thought o' thot."- was entrusted to another rebel. The su:c" I must return to-morrow," said Nicho- cess of this first achievment prompted the las, "but I mean to dine with you to-day, malicious crowd, whose faces were clusand if Mrs. Browdie can give me a bed-" tered together in every variety of lank and "' Bed!" cried John, " I wish thou could'st half-starved ugliness, to further acts of sleep in fower beds at once. Ecod thou outrage. The leader was insisting upon should'st have'em a'. Bide till I coom Mrs. Squeers repeating her dose, Master back, on'y bide till I coom back, and ecod Squeers was undergoing, another dip in we'll mak' a day of it." the treacle, and a violent assault had been l.ving his wife a hearty kiss, and commenced on Miss Squeers, when John Nicholas a no less hearty shake of the Browdie, bursting open the door with one hand, John mounted his horse and rode vigorous kick, rushed to the rescue. The off: leaving Mrs. Browdie to apply herself shouts, screams, groans, hoots, and clapto hospitable preparations, and his young ping of hands, suddenly ceased, and a friend to stroll about the neighbourhood, dead silence ensued. and revisit spots which were rendered "Ye be noice chaps," said John, lookfamiliar to him by many a miserable as- ing steadily round. " What's to do here, sociation. thou yooing dogs!"' ~ John cantered away, and arriving at "Squeers is in prison, and we are going Dotheboys Hall tied his horse to a gate torunaway!" cried a score of shrill voices. and made his way to the schoolroom door, " We won't stop, we won't stop!" which he found, locked on the inside. A " Weel, then, dinnot stop," replied John, tremendous noise and riot arose from with- "who waants thee to stop? Roon awa' in, and applying his eye to a convenient loike men, but dinnot hurt the women." crevice in the wall, he did not remain long " Hurrah!" cried the shrill voices, more in ignorance of its mneaning, hrilly still. The news of Mr. Squeers downfall had "Hurran!" repeated John. i" Weel, reached Dotheboys; that was quite clear. hurrah loike men too. Noo then, look out To all appearance it had very iecently Hip-hip-hip —hurrah!" become known to the young gentlemen, "Hurrah!" cried the voices. for the rebellion had just broken out. "Hurrah agean,' said John. " Loode It was one of the brimstone-and-treacle still." mornings, and Mrs. Squeers had entered The boys obeyed. 34* 3 & 402 NICHOLAS NICKLEBY " Anoother!" said John. " Dinnot be Browdie strode heavily out, rernoL.nt4 afeard on it. Let's have a good'un." his nag, put him once more into a smart H"Hlurrah!" canter, and, carolling lustily forth some' Noo then," said John, "let's have yan fragments of an old song, to which the more to end wi', and then coot off as quick horse's hoofs rang a merry accomnpatias you loike. Tak' a good breath noo — ment, sped back to his pretty wife and to Squeers be in jail-the school's brokken Nicholas. oop-it's a' ower-past and gane-think o' For some days afterwards the neight thot, and let it be a hearty'un. Hurrah!" bouring country was overrin with boys, Such a cheer arose as the walls of Do- I who, the report went, had been secretly dieboys I-all had never echoed before, and furnished by Mr. and Mrs. B3rowdie, not were destined never to respond to again, only with a hearty meal of bread and When the sound had died away the school meat, but with sundry shillings and sixwas empty, and of the busy noisy crowd pences to help them on their way. Te which had peopled it but five minutes be- this rumour John always returned a ston fore, not one remained. denial, which he accomparied, however "Very wcll, AMr. Browdie!" said Miss with a lurking grin, that rendered the susSqueers, hot and flushed from the recent picious doubtful, and fully confirmed all encounter, but vixenish to the last; "you've previous believers in their opinion. been and excited our boys to run away. There were a few timid young children, Now see if we don't pay you out for that, who, miserable as they had been, and sir! If my pa is unfortunate and trod many as were the tears they had shed in down by henemies, we're not going to be the wretched school, still knew no other basely crowed and conquered over by you home, and had formed for it a sort of atand Tilda." tachment, which made them weep when "Noa!" replied John bluntly, "thou the bolder spirits fled, and cling to it as a bean't. Tak' thy oath o' thot. Think refuge. Of these, some were found crying betther o' us, Fanny. I tell'ee both that under hedges and in such places, frightenI'm glod the auld man has been caught ed at the solitude. One had a dead bird out at, last-dom'd glod-but ye'll sooffer in a little cage; he had wandered nearly eneaf wi'out any crowin' fra' me, and I twenty miles, and when his poor favourite be not'the mun to crow nor be Tilly the died, lost courage, and lay down beside lass, so I tell'ee flat. More than thot, I him. Another was discovered in a yard tell'ee noo, that if thou need'st friends to hard by the school, sleeping with a dog, help thee awa' from this place-dinnot who bit at those who came to remove him, turn up thy nose, Fanny, thou may'st- and licked the sleeping child's pale face. thou'lt foind Tilly and I wi' a thout o' old They were taken back, and some other times ahoot us, ready to lend thee a hond. stragglers were recovered, but by degrees And when I say thot, dinnot think I be they were claimed, or lost again; and in asheamed of waa't I've deane, for I say course of time Dotheboys Hall and its last rurrah! agean, and dom the schoolmeas- breaking up began to be forgotten by the ther-there!" neighhours, or to be only spoken of as His parting words concluded, John among the things that had been. CHAPTER LXV. CONCLUSION. WHTaN net term of mourning had ex- Cheeryble Brothers,:n which Frank had?tred, Madeline gave her hand aiid fortune become a partner. Before many years te Nick olas, and on the same day and at elapsed, the business hegan to be carried trie sanme time Kate became Mrs. Frank oninthenames of "Cheeryble and NickleCheeryhie. It was expected that Timn by," so that Mrs. Nickleby's prophetic Linkinwater and Miss La Creevy would anticipations were realised at last. have made a third couple on the occasion, The twin bbthers retired. Who needs but they declined, and two or three weeks to be told that they were happy l They afterwards went out together onle morning were surrounded by happiness of their before breakfast, and coming back with own creation, and lived but to increase it merry faces, were found to have been Tim Linkinwater condescended. af NICHOLAS NICKLLB~Y 403 of his name as a partner, and always per — at nearly the same time as Squeers, and in sisted in the punctual and regular dis- the course of nature never returned.charge of his clerkly duty. Brooker died penitent. Sir Mulberry I Iawk Ile and his wife lived in the old house, lived abroad for some years, courted arn and occupied the very bed-chamber in caressed, and in high repute as a fine dasl whichl he had slept for four-and-forty years. ing fellow; and ultimately, returning to As his wife grew older, she became even a this country, was thrown into jail for debt, more cheerful and light-hearted little crea- and there perished miserably, as such high, ture; and it was a common saying among noble spirits generally do. their friends, that it was impossible to say The first act of Nichceas, when lie bewlhich looked the happier-Tl'im as he sat came a rich and prosperous merchant, was calmly smiling in his elbow-chair on one to buy his father's old house. As time side of the fire, or his brisk little wife crept on, and there came gradually about chatting and laughing, and constantly bust- him a group of lovely children, it was allinrT in and out of hers, on the other. tered and enlarged, but none of the old Dick, the blackbird, was removed from rooms were ever pulled down, no old tree the counting-house and promoted to a warm was rooted up, nothing with wlhich there corner in the common sitting-room. Be- was any association of by-gone times was neath his cage hung two miniatures, of ever removed or changed. Mrs. Linkinwater's execution: one repre- Within a stone's-throw was another re. senting herself and the other Tim, and both treat, enlivened by children's pleasant smilingl very hard at all beholders. Tim's' voices too, and here was Kate, with many head being powdered like a twelfth cake, new cares and occupations, and many new and his spectacles copied with great nicety, faces courting her sweet smile (and one so strangers detected a close resemblance to like her own, that to her mother she seemen him at the first glance, and this leading a child again,) the same true, gentle 3reathem to suspect that the other must be his ture, the same fond sister, the same in the wife, and emboldening them to say so with- love of all about her, as in her girlish days out sruple, Mrs. Linkinwater grew very Mrs. Nickleby lived sometimes with hey proud of these achievements in time, and daughter, and sometimes with her son, acn considered them among the most success- companying one or the other of them to iul likenesses she had ever painted. Tim London at those periods when the cares c4 had the profoundest faith in them likewise, business obliged both families to reside for upon this, as upon all other subjects, there, and always preserving a great ap. they held but one opinion, and if ever there pearance of dignity, and relatingh her exwere a " comfortable couple" in the word, periences (especially on points connected it was Mr. and Mrs. Linkinwater. with the management and bringing-up ot Ralph having died intestate, and having children) with much solemnity and itnno relations but those with whom he had portance. It was a very long time befor3 lived in such enmity, they would have be- -she could be induced to receive'Mrs. Lin come in legal course his heirs. But they kinwater into favor, and it is even doubtful could not bear the thought of growing rich whether she ever thoroughly forgave her. on money so acquired, and felt as though There was one gray-haired, quiet, harm they could never hope to prosper with it. less gentlem-an, who, winter and summer, They made no claim to his wealth; and the lived in a little cottage hard by Nicholas's riches for which he had toiled all his days, house, and when he was not there, assumed and burdened his soul with so many evil the superintendence of affairs. His chief deeds, were swept at last into the coffers pleasure and delight was in the children, of the state, and no man was.the better or with whom he was a child himself, and the happier for them. master of the revels. The little people could Arthur Gride was tried for the unlawful do nothing without dear Newman Noggs. possession of the will, which he had either The grass was green above the dead procured to be stolen, or dishonestly ac- boy's grave, and trodden by feet so small luirecl and retained by other means as bad; and light, that not a daisy drooped its head By dint of an ingenious counsel, and a le- beneath their pressure. Through all the gal flaw, he escaped, but only to undergo spring and summer-time, garlands of fresh t.v -rse punishment; for some years after- flowers wreathed by infant hands rested wards his house was broken open in the upon the stone, and when the children night by robbers, tempted by the rumors of came to change them lest they should his gieat wealth, and he was found horri- wither and be pleasant to him no longer, Uty murdered in his bed. their eyes filled wiih tears, and they spoke Mrs. Sliderskew went beyond the seas low and softly of their poor dead colsin THE END. THIS CATALOGUE CONTAINS AND Deskcribes the Most Popular and Best Selling Books in the World NEW BOOKS ISSUED EVERY WEEK, DComprising the most entertaining and absorbing works published, suitable for the Parlor, Li brary, Sitting Room, Railroad, Steamboat or Soldiers' reading, by the best writers in the world PublisVhed and for Sale by T. B. 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THE ANGEL'S STORY. A CHRISTMAS CAROL. THE SQUIRE'S STORY. THE CHIMES. * UNCLE GEORGE'S STORY. CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. THE SCHOLAR'S STORY. THE BATTLE OF LIFE. THE BOARDING HOUSE. THE HAUNTED MAN. THE TWO APPRENTICES. THE GHOST'S BARGAIN. A HOUSE TO LET, ETC., ET p hilabelp lia: T. B. PETERSON AND BROTHERS, 306 CHESTNUT STREET, HOLIDIAY STORIES. A HOUSE TO LET. CHAPTER I. OVER THE WAY. I HAD been living at Tunbridge Wells and nowhere else, going on for en years, when my medical man —very clever in his profession, and the prettiest player I ever saw in my life of a hand at Long Whist, which was a noble and princely game before Short was heard of-said to me, one day, as he sat feeling my pulse, on the actual sofa which my poor dear sister Jane worked before her spine came on, and laid her on a board for fifteen months at a stretch-the most upright woman that ever livedsaid to me, "What we want, ma'am, is a fillip."'Good gracious, goodness gracious, Doctor Towers l" says I, quite startled at the man, for he was so christened himself: " don't talk as if you were alluding to people's names; but say what you mean." "I mean, my dear ma'am, that we want a little change of air and scene. " " Bless the man I" said I; " does he mean we or me?" "I mean you, ma'am." "Then Lard forgive you, Doctor Towers," I said; "why don't you get into a habit of expressing yourself in a straightforward manner, like a loyal subject of our gracious Queen Victoria, and a member of the Church of England?" Towers laughed, as he generally does when he has fidgetted me into any of my impatient ways-one of my states, as I call them-and then he began: "Tone, ma'am, Tone, is all you require 1" He appealed to Trottle, who just then came in with the coal-scuttle, looking, in his nice black suit, like an amiable man putting on coals from motives of benevolence. Trottle (whom I always call my right hand) has been in my service two and thirty years. He entered my service, far away from England. (19) 20 A HOUSE TO LET He is the best of creatures, and the most respectable of men; but opinionated. "What you want, ma'am," says Trottle, making up the fire in his quiet and skilful way, "is Tone." "Lard forgive you both 1" says I, bursting out a-laughing; "I see you are in a conspiracy against me, so I suppose you must do what you like with me, and take me to London for a change." For some weeks Towers had hinted at London, and consequently I was prepared for him. When we had got to this point, we got on so expeditiously, that Trottle was packed off to London next day but one, to find some sort of place for me to lay my troublesome old head in. Trottle came back to me at the Wells, after two days' absence, with accounts of a charming place that could be taken for six months certain, with liberty to renew on the same terms for another six, and which really did afford every accommodation that I wanted. "Could you really find no fault at all in the rooms, Trottle?" I asked him. "Not a single one, ma'am. They are exactly suitable to you. There is not a fault in them. There is but one fault outside of them." " And what is that?" "They are opposite a House to Let." "Oh I" I said, considering of it. "But is that such a very great objection?" "I think it my duty to mention it, ma'am. It is a dull object to look at. Otherwise, I was so greatly pleased with the lodging, that I should have closed with the terms at once, as I had your authority to do." Trottle, thinking so highly of the place, in my interest, I wished not to disappoint him. Consequently I said: "The empty house may let, perhaps." " O, dear no, ma'am," said Trottle, shaking his head with decision; "it won't let. It never does let, ma'am." "Mercy me! Why not?" "Nobody knows, ma'am. All I have to mention is, ma'am, that the House won't let I" "How long has this unfortunate House been to let, in the name of Fortune?" said I. "Ever so long," said Trottle. "Years." "Is it in ruins?" " It's a good deal out of repair, ma'am, but it's not in ruins." The long and short of this business was, that next day I had a pair of post-horses put to my chariot,-for, I never travel by railway: not that I have anything to say against railways, except that they came in when I was too'old to take to them; and that they made ducks and drakes of a few turnpike-bonds I had,-and so I went up myself, with Trottle in the OVER THE WAY. 21 rumble, to look at the inside of this same lodging, and at the outside of this same House. As I say, I went and saw for myself. The lodging was perfect. That I was sure it would be; because Trottle is the best judge of comfort I know. The empty house.was an eye-sore; and that I was sure it would be, too, for the same reason. However, setting the one thing against the other, the good against the bad, the lodging very soon got the victory over the House. My lawyer, Mr. Squares, of Crown Office Row, Temple, drew up an agreement; which his young man jabbered over so dreadfully whepn he read it to me, that I didn't understand one word of it except my own name, and hardly that; and I signed it, and the other party signed it, and, in three weeks' time, I moved my old bones, bag and baggage, up to London. For the first month or so, I arranged to leave Trottle at the Wells. I made this arrangement, not only because there was a good deal to take care of in the way of my school-children and pensioners, and also of a new stove in the hall to air the house in my absence, which appeared to me calculated to blow up and burst; but, likewise, because I suspect Trottle (though the steadiest of men, and a widower between sixty and seventy) to be what I call rather a Philanderer. I mean, that when any friend comes down to see me and brings a maid, Trottle is always remarkably ready to show that maid the Wells of an evening; and that I have more than once noticed the shadow of his arm outside the room door nearly opposite my chair, encircling that maid's waist on the landing, like a table-cloth brush. Therefore, I thought it just as well, before any London Philandering took place, that I should have a little time to look round me, and to see what girls were in and about the place. So, nobody stayed with me in my new lodging at first after Trottle had established me there safe and sound, but Peggy Flobbins, my maid; a most affectionate and attached woman, who never was an object of Philandering since I have known her, and is not likely to begin to become so after nine-and-twenty years next March. It was the fifth of November when I first breakfasted in my new rooms. The Guys were going about in the brown fog, like magnified monsters of insects in table-beer, and there was a Guy resting on the doorsteps of the House to Let. I put on my glasses, partly to see how the boys were pleased with what I sent them out by Peggy, and partly to make sure that she didn't approach too near the ridiculous object, which of course was full of sky-rockets, and might go off into bangs at any moment. In this way it happened that the first time I ever looked at the House to Let, after I became its opposite neighbor, I had my glasses on. And this might not have happened once in fifty times, for my sight is uncom 22 A HOUSE TO LET. monly good for my time of life; and I wear glasses as little as I can, for fear of spoiling it. I knew already that it was a ten-roomed house, very dirty and much dilapidated; that the area-rails were rusty and peeling away, and that two or three of them were wanting, or half-wanting; that there were broken panes of glass in the windows, and blotches of mud on other panes, which the boys had thrown at them; that there was quite a collection of stones in the area, also proceeding from those Young Mischiefs; that there were games chalked on the pavement before the house, and likenesses of ghosts chalked on the street-door; that the windows were all darkened by rotting old blinds, or shutters, or both; that the bills "To Let," had curled up, as if the damp air of the place had given them cramps; or had dropped down into corners, as if they were no more. I had seen all this on my first visit, and I had remarked to Trottle, that the lower part of the black-board about terms was split away; that the rest had become illegible, and that the very stone of the door-steps was broken across. Notwithstanding, I sat at my breakfast-table on that Please to Remember the fifth of November morning, staring at the House through my glasses, as if I had never looked at it before. All at once-in the first-floor window on my right-down in a low corner, at a hole in a blind or a shutter-I found that I was looking at a secret eye. The reflection of my fire may have touched it and made it shine; but, I saw it shine and vanish. The eye might have seen me, or it might not have seen me, sitting there in the glow of my fire —you can take which probability you prefer, without offence-but something struck through my frame, as if the sparkle of this eye had been electric, and had flashed straight at me. It had such an effect upon me, that I could not remain by myself, and I rang for Flobbins, and invented some little jobs for her, to keep her in the room. After my breakfast was cleared away, I sat in the same place with my glasses on, moving my head, now so, and now so, trying whether, with the shining of my fire, and the flaws in the window-glass, I could reproduce any sparkle seeming to be up there, that was like the sparkle of an eye. But no; I could make nothing like it. I could make ripples and crooked lines in the front of the House to Let, and I could even twist one window up and loop it into another; but, I could make no eye, nor any thing like an eye. So I convinced myself that I really had seen an eye. Well, to be sure I could not get rid of the impression of this eye, and it troubled me and troubled me, until it was almost a torment. I don't think I was previously inclined to concern my head much about the opposite House; but, after this eye, my head was full of the house; and I thought of little else than the house, and I watched the house, and I talked about the house, and I dreamed of the house. In all this, I OVER THE WAY. 23 fully believe now, there was a good Providence. But, you will judge for yourself about that, bye-and-bye. My landlord was a butler, who had married a cook, and set up housekeeping. They had not kept house longer than a couple of years, and they knew no more about the House to Let than I did. Neither could I find out anything concerning it among the trades-people or otherwise; further than what Trottle had told me at first. It had been empty, some said six years, some said eight, some said ten. It never did let, they all agreed, and it never would let. I soon felt convinced that I should work myself into one of my states about the House; and I soon did. I lived for a whole month in a flurry, that was always getting worse. Towers's prescriptions, which I had brought to London with me, were of no more use than nothing. In the cold winter sunlight, in the thick winter fog, in the black winter rain, in the white winter snow, the House was equally on my mind. I have heard, as everybody else has, of a spirit's haunting a house; but I have had my own personal experience of a house's haunting a spirit; for that House haunted mine. In all that month's time I never saw anyone go into the House nor come out of the House. I supposed that such a thing must take place sometimes, in the dead of the night, or the glimmer of the morning; but, I never saw it done. I got no relief from having my curtains drawn when it came on dark, and shutting out the house. The Eye then began to shine in my fire. I am a single old woman. I should say at once, without being at all afraid of the name, I am an old maid; only that I am older than the phrase would express. The time was when I had my love-trouble; but, it is long and long ago. He was killed at sea (Dear Heaven rest his blessed head I) when I was twenty-five. I have all my life, since ever I can remember, been deeply fond of children. I have always felt such a love for them, that I have had my sorrowful and sinful times when I have fancied something must have gone wrong in my life-something must have been turned aside from its original intention I mean-or I should have been the proud and happy mother of many children, and a fond old grandmother this day. I have soon known better in the cheerfulness and contentment that God has blessed me with and given me abundant reason for; and yet I have had to dry my eyes even then, when I have thought of my dear, brave, hopeful, handsome, bright-eyed Charley, and the trust he meant to cheer me with. Charley was my youngest brother, and he went to India. He married there, and sent his gentle little wife home to me to be confined, and she was to go back to him, and the baby was to be left with me, and I was to bring it up. It never belonged to this life. It took its silent place among the other incidents in my story that might have been, but never were. I had hardly time to whisper to her -24 A HOUSE TO LET. "Dead, my own I" or she to answer, "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust I 0 lay it on my breast and comfort Challey I" when she had gone to seek her baby at Our Saviour's feet. I went to Charley, and I told him there was nothing left but me, poor me; and I lived with Charley, out there, several years. He was a man of fifty, when he fell asleep in my arms. His face had changed to be almost old and a little stern; but, it softened, and softened, when I laid it down that I might cry and pray beside it; and, when I looked at it for the last time, it was my dear, untroubled, handsome, youthful Charley of long ago. -I was going on to tell that the loneliness of the House to Let brought back all these recollections, and that they had quite pierced my heart one evening, when Flobbins, opening the door, and looking very much as if she wanted to laugh, but thought better of it, said: "Mr. Jabez Jarber, ma'am I" Upon which Mr. Jarber ambled in, in his usual absurd way, saying: "Sophonisba I" Which I am obliged to confess'IS my name. A pretty one and proper one enough when it was given to me: but, a good many years out of date now, and always sounding particularly high-flown and comical from his lips. So I said, sharply: " Though it is Sophonisba, Jarber, you are not obliged to mention it, that I see." In reply to this observation, the ridiculous man put the tips of my five right-hand fingers to his lips, and said again, with an aggravating accent on the third syllable: " Sophonisba I " I don't burn lamps, because I can't abide the smell of oil, and wax candles belonged to my day. I hope the convenient situation of one of my tall old candlesticks on the table at my elbow, will be my excuse for saying, that if he did that again, I would chop his toes with it. (I am sorry to add that when I told him so, I knew his toes to be tender.) But, really, at my time of life and at Jarber's, it is'too much of a good thing. There is an orchestra still standing in the open air at the Wells, before which, in the presence of a throng of fine company, I have walked a minute with Jarber. But, there is a house still standing, in which I have worn a pinafore, and had a tooth drawn by fastening a thread to the tooth and the door-handle, and toddling away from the door. And how should I look now, at my years, in a pinafore, or having a door for my dentist? Besides, Jarber always was more or less an absurd man. He was sweetly dressed, and beautifully perfumed, and many girls of my day would have given their ears for him; though I am bound to add that he never cared a fig for them, or their advances either, and that he was very constant to me. For, he not only proposed to me before my love-happiness ended in OVER THE WAY. 25 sorrow, but afterwards too: not once, nor yet twice: nor will we say how many times. However many they were, or however few they were, the last time he paid me that compliment was immediately after he had presented me with a digestive dinner-pill stuck on the point of a pin, And I said on that occasion, laughing heartily, "Now, Jarber, if you don't know that two people whose united ages would make about a hundred.and fifty, have got to he old, I do; and I beg to swallow this nonsense in the form of this pill," (which I took on the spot), " and I request to hear no more of it." After that, he conducted himself pretty well. He was always a little squeezed man, was Jarber, in little sprigged waistcoats; and he had always little legs and a little smile, and a little voice, and a little roundabout ways. As long as I can remember him he was always going little errands for people, and carrying little gossip. At this present time when he called me " Sophonisba!" he had a little old-fashioned lodging in that new neighborhood of mine. I had not seen him for two or three years, but I had heard that he still went out with a little perspective-glass and stood on door-steps in Saint James's Street, to see the nobility go to Court; and went in his little cloak and goloshes outside Willis's rooms to see them go to Almack's; and caught the frightfullest colds, and got himself trodden upon by coachmen and linkmen, until he went home to his landlady a mass of bruises, and had to be nursed for a month. Jarber took off his little fur-collared cloak, and sat down opposite me, with his little cane and hat in his hand. " Let us have no more Sophonisbaing, if you please, Jarber," I said. " Call me Sarah. How do you do? I hope you are pretty well." "Thank you. And you?" said Jarber. "I am as well as an old woman can expect to be." Jarber was beginning: " Say, not old, Sophon — "but I looked at the candlestick, and he left off; pretending not to have said anything. "I am infirm, of course," I said, "and so are you. Let us both be thankful it's no worse." "Is it possible that you look worried?" said Jarber. "It is very possible. I have no doubt it is the fact."' And what has worried my Soph ——, soft-hearted friend," said Jarber. "Something not easy, I suppose, to comprehend. I am worried to death by a House to Let, over the way." Jarber went with his little tip-toe step to the window-curtains, peeped out, and looked round at me. "Yes," said I, in answer: "that house." After peeping put again, Jarber came back to his chair with a tender air, and asked: "How does it worry you, S-arah?" "It is a mystery to me," said I. "Of course every house is a mystery, 26 A HOUSE TO LET. more or less; but, something that I don't care to mention" (for truly the Eye was so slight a thing to mention that I was more than half ashamed of it), "has made that House so mysterious to me, and has so fixed it in my mind, that I have had no peace for a month. I foresee that I shall have no peace, either, until Trottle comes to me, next Monday." I might have mentioned before, that there is a long-standing jealousy between Trottle and Jarber; and that there is never any love lost between those two. " Trottle," petulantly repeated Jarber, with a little flourish of his cane; " how is Trottle to restore the lost peace of Sarah?" "He will exert himself to find out something about the House. I have fallen into that state about it, that I really must discover, by some means or other, good or bad, fair or foul, how and why it is that that House remains To Let." "And why Trottle? Why not," putting his little hat to his heart; "why not, Jarber?" "To tell you the truth, I have never thought of Jarber in the matter. And now I do think of Jarber, through your having the kindness to suggest him.-for which I am really and truly obliged to you-I don't think he could do it." "Sarah 1" "I think it would be too much for you, Jarber." "Sarah I" "There would be coming and going, and fatching and carrying, Jarber, and you might catch cold." " Sarah! What can be done by Trottle, can be done by me. I am on terms of acquaintance with every person of responsibility in this parish. I am intimate at the Circulating Library. I converse daily with the Assessed Taxes. I lodge with the Water Rate. I know the Medical {Man. I lounge habitually at the House Agent's. I dine with the Churchwardens. I move to the Guardians. Trottle! A person in the sphere of a domestic, and totally unknown to society!" "Don't be warm, Jarber. In mentioning Trottle, I have naturally relied on my Right-Hand, who would take any trouble to gratify even a whim of his old mistress's. But, if you can find out anything to help to unravel the mystery of this House to Let, I shall be fully as much obliged to you as if there was never a Trottle in the land." Jarber rose and put on his little cloak. A couple of fierce brass lions held it tight round his little throat; but a couple of the mildest Hares might have done that, I am sure. " Sarah," he said, "I go. Expect me on Monday evening, the Sixth, when perhaps you will give me a cup of tea; —may I ask for no Green? Adieu!" This was on a Thursday, the second of December. When I reflected that Trottle would come back on Monday, too, I had my misgivings as OVER THE WAY. I7 to the difficulty of keeping the two powers from open warfare, and indeed I was more uneasy than I quite like to confess. However, the empty House swallowed up that thought next morning, as it swallowed up most other thoughts now, and the House quite preyed upon me all that day, and all the Saturday. It was a very wet Sunday: raining and blowing from morning to light. When the bells rang for afternoon church, they seemed to ring in the commotion of the puddles as well as in the wind, and they sounded very loud and dismal indeed, and the street looked very dismal indeed, and the House looked dismallest of all. I was reading my prayers near the light, and my fire was glowing in the darkening window-glass, when, looking up, as I prayed for the fatherless children and widows and all who were desolate and oppressed, -I saw the Eye again. It passed in a moment, as it had done before; but, this time, I was inwardly more convinced that I had seen it. Well to be sure, I had a night that night! Whenever I closed my own eyes, it was to see eyes. Next morning, at an unreasonably, and I should have said (but for that railroad) an impossibly early hour, comes Trottle. As soon as he had told me all about the Wells, I told him all about the House. He listened with as great interest and attention as I could possibly wish, until I came to Jabez Jarber, when he cooled in an instant, and became opinionated. "Now, Trottle," I said, pretending not to notice, " when lMr. Jarber comes back this evening, we must all lay our heads.together." "I should hardly think that would be wanted, ma'am; Mr Jarber's head is surely equal to anything." Being determined not to notice, I said again, that we must all lay our heads together. "Whatever you order, ma'am, shall be obeyed. Still, it cannot be doubted, I should think, that Mr. Jarber's head is equal, if not superior, to any pressure that can be brought to bear upon it." This was provoking: and his way, when he came in and out all through the day, of pretending not to see the House to Let, was more provoking still. However, being quite resolved not to notice, I gave no sign whatever that I did notice. But, when evening came, and he showed in Jarber, and, when Jarber wouldn't be helped off with his cloak, and poked his cane into cane chair-backs and china ornaments and his own eye, in trying to unclasp his brazen lions of himself (which he couldn't do, after all) I could have shaken them both. As it was, I only shook the tea-pot, and made the tea. Jarber had brought from under his cloak, a roll of paper, with which he had triumphantly pointed over the way, like the Ghost of Hamlet's Father appearing to the late Mr. Kemble, and which he had laid on the table. "A discovery?" said I, pointing to it, when he was seated, and had got his tea-cup. —" Don't go, Trottle." 28 A HOUSE TO LET. "The first of a series of discoveries," answered Jarber. " Account of a former tenant, compiled from the Water-Rate, and'Medical Mian." " Don't go, Trottle," I repeated. For, I saw him making imperceptibly to the door. " Begging your pardon, ma'am, I might be in Mr. Jarber's way?" Jarber looked that he decidedly thought he might be. I relieved myself with a good angry croak, and said-always determined not to notice: "Have the goodness to sit down, if you please, Trottle. I wish you to hear this.'" Trottle bowed in the stiffest manner, and took the remotest chair he could find. Even that, he moved close to the draught from the keyhole of the door. " Firstly," Jarber began, after sipping his tea, "would my Sophon —" "Begin again, Jarber," said I. "Would you be much surprised, if this House to Let, should turn out to be the property of a relation of your own?" " I should indeed be very much surprised." " Then it belongs to your first cousin (I learn, by the way, that he is ill at this time) George Forley." "Then that is a bad beginning. I cannot deny that George Forley stands in the relation of first cousin to me; but I hold no communication with him. George Forley has been a hard, bitter, stony father to a child now dead. George Forley was most implacable and unrelenting to one of his two daughters who made a poor marriage. George Forley brought all the weight of his hand to bear as heavily against that crushed thing, as he brought it to bear lightly, favoringly, and advantageously upon her sister, who made a rich marriage. I hope that, with the measure George Forley meted, it may not be measured out to him again. I will give George Forley no worse wish." V I was strong upon the subject, and I could not keep the tears out of my eyes; for, that young girl's was a cruel story, and I had dropped many a tear over it before. "The house being George Forley's," said I, "is almost enough to account for there being a Fate upon it, if Fate there is. Is there anything about George. Forley in those sheets of paper?" "Not a word." "I am glad to hear it. Please to read on. Trottle, why don't you come nearer? Why do you sit mortifying yourself in those Arctic regions? Come nearer." " Thank you, ma'am; I am quite near enough to Mr. Jarber." Jarber rounded his chair, to get his back full to my opinionated friend and servant, and, beginning to read, tossed the words at him over his (Jabez Jarber's) own ear and shoulder. He read what follows: CHAPTER II. THE MANCHESTER MARRIAGE. MR. and Mrs. Openshaw came from Manchester to London and took the House To Let. He had been, what is called in Lancashire, a Salesman for a large manufacturing firm, who were extending their business and opening a warehouse in London; where Mr. Openshaw was now to superintend the business. He rather enjoyed the change of residence; having a kind of curiosity about London, which he had never yet been able to gratify in his brief visits to the metropolis. At the same time he had an odd, shrewd, contempt for the inhabitants; whom he had always pictured to himself as fine, lazy people; caring nothing but for fashion and aristocracy, and lounging away their days in Bond Street, and such places; ruining good English, and ready in their turn to despise him as a provincial. The hours that the men of business kept in the city scandalized him too i accustomed as he was to the early dinners of Manchester folk, and the consequently far longer evenings. Still, he was pleased to go to London; though he would not for the world have confessed it, even to himself, and always spoke of the step to his friends as one demanded of him by the interests of his employers, and sweetened to him by a considerable increase of salary. His salary indeed was so liberal that he might have been justified in taking a much larger House than this one, had he not thought himself bound to set an example to Londoners of how little a Manchester man of business cared for show. Inside, however, he furnished the House with an unusual degree of comfort, and, in the winter time, he insisted on keeping up as large fires as the grates would allow, in every room where the temperature was in the least chilly. Moreover, his northern sense of hospitality was such, that, if he were at home, he could hardly suffer a visitor to leave the house without forcing meat and drink upon him. Every servant in the house was well warmed, well fed, and kindly treated; for their master scorned all petty saving in aught that conduced to comfort; while he amused himself by following out all his accustomed habits and individual ways in defiance of what any of his new neighbors might think. His wife was a pretty, gentle woman, of suitable age and character. He was forty-two, she thirty-five. He was loud and decided; she soft and yielding. They had two children; or rather, I should say, she had two; for the elder, a girl of eleven, was Mrs. Openshaw's child by Frank Wilson her first husband. The younger was a little boy, Edwin, who could just prattle, and to whom his father delighted to speak in the broad(29) 30 A HOUSE TO LET. est and most unintelligible Lancashire dialect, in order to keep Ap what he called the true Saxon accent. Mrs. Openshaw's Christian name was Alice, and her first husband had been her own cousin. She was the orphan niece of a sea-captain in Liverpool: a quiet, grave little creature, of great personal attraction when she was fifteen or sixteen, with regular features and a blooming complexion. But she was very shy, and believed herself to be very stupid and awkward; and was frequently scolded by her aunt, her own uncle's second wife. So when her cousin, Frank Wilson, came home from a long absence at sea, and first was kind and protective to her; secondly, attentive; and thirdly, desperately in love with her, she hardly knew how to be grateful enough to him. It is true she would have preferred his remaiping in the first or second stages of behavior; for his violent love puzzled and fiightened her. Her uncle neither helped nor hindered the love affair; though it was going on under his own eyes. Frank's step-mother had such a variable temper, that there was no knowing whether what she liked one day she would like the next, or not.'At length she went to such extremes of crossness, that Alice was only too glad to shut her eyes and rush blindly at the chance of escape from domestic tyranny offered her by a marriage with her cousin; and, liking him better than any one in the world execpt her uncle (who was at this time at sea), she went off one morning and was married to him; her only bridesmaid being the housemaid at her aunt's. The consequence was, that Frank- and his wife went into lodgings, and Mrs. Wilson refused to see them, and turned away Norah, the warm-hearted housemaid; whom they accordingly took into their service. When Captain Wilson returned from his voyage, he was very cordial with the young couple, and spent many an evening at their lodgings; smoking his pipe, and sipping his grog; but he told them that, for quietness' sake, he could not ask them to his own house; for his wife was bitter against them. They were not very unhappy about this. The seed of future unhappiness lay rather in Frank's vehement, passionate disposition; which led him to resent his wife's shyness and want of demonstration as failures of conjugal duty. He was already tormenting himself, and her too, in a slighter degree, by apprehensions and imaginations of what might befal her during his approaching absence at sea. At last he went to his father, and urged him to insist upon Alice's being once more received under his roof; the more especially as erwe was now a prospect of her confinement while her husband was away on his voyage. Captain Wilson was, as he himself expressed it, "breaking up," and unwilling to undergo the excitement of a scene; yet he felt that what his son said was true. So he went to his wife. And before Frank went to sea, he had the coifort of seeing his wife installed in her old little garret in his father's house. To have placed her in the one best spare room, was a step beyond Mrs. Wilson's powers of sub THE MANCHESTER MARRIAGE. 31 mission or generosity. The worst part about it, however, veas that the faithful Norah had to be dismissed. Her place as housemaid had been filled up; and, even had it not, she had forfeited Mrs. Wilson's good opinion forever. She comforted her young master and mistress by pleasant prophecies of the time when they would have a household of their own; of which, in whatever service she might be in the meantime, she should be sure to form a part. Almost the last action Frank Wilson did, before setting sail, was going with Alice to see Norah once more at her mother's house. And then he went away. Alice's father-in-law grew more and more feeble as winter advanced. She was of great use to her step-mother in nursing and amusing him; and, although there was anxiety enough in the household, there was, perhaps, more of peace than there had been for years; for Mrs. Wilson had not a bad heart, and was softened by the visible approach of death to one whom she loved, and touched by the lonely condition of the young creature, expecting her first confinement in her husband's absence. To this relenting mood Norah owed the permission to come and nurse Alice when her baby was born, and to remain to attend on Captain Wilson. Before one letter had been received from Frank (who had sailed for the East Indies and China), his father died. Alice was always glad to remember that he had held her baby in his arms, and kissed and blessed it before his death. - After that, and the consequent examination into the state of his affairs, it was found that he had left far less property than people had been led by his style of living to imagine; and, what money there was, was all settled upon his wife, and at her disposal after her death. This did not signify much to Alice, as Frank was now first mate of his ship, and, in another voyage or two would be captain. Meanwhile he had left her some hundreds (all his savings) in the bank. It became time for Alice to hear from her husband. One letter from the Cape she had already received. The next was to announce his arrival in India. As week after week passed over, and no intelligence of the ship's arrival reached the office of the owners, and the Captain's wife was in the same state of ignorant suspense as Alice herself, her fears grew most oppressive. At length the day came when, inl reply to her inquiry at the shipping-office, they told her that the owners had given up hope of ever hearing more of the Betsy-Jane, and had sent in their claim upon the Underwriters. Now that he was gone forever, she first felt a yearning, longing love for the kind cousin, the dear friend, the sympathising protector, whom she should never see again-first felt a passionate desire to show him his child, whom she had hitherto rather craved to have all to herself-her own sole possession. Her grief was, however, noiseless, and quiet-rather to the scandal of Mrs. Wilson; who bewailed her step-son as if he and she had always lived together in perfect harmony, and who 32 A HOUSE TO LET. evidently thought it her duty to burst into fresh tears at every strange face she saw; dwelling on his poor young widow's desolate state, and the helplessness of the fatherless child, with an unction, as if she liked the excitement of the sorrowful story. So passed away the first days of Alice's widowhood. By-and-by things subsided into their natural and tranquil course. But, as if this young creature was always to be in some heavy trouble, her ewe-lamb began to be ailing, pining, and sickly. The child's mysterious illness turned out to be some affection of the spine likely to affect health; but not to shorten life-at least so the doctors said. But the long dreary suffering of one whom a mother loves as Alice loved her only child, is hard to look forward to. Only Norah guessed what Alice suffered; no one but God knew. A-nd so it fell out, that when Mrs. Wilson, the elder, came to her one day in violent distress, occasioned by a very material diminution in the value of the property her husband had left her —a diminution which made her income barely enough to support herself, much less Alice —the latter could hardly understand how anything which did not touch health or life could cause such grief; and she received the intelligence with irritating composure.- But when, that afternoon, the little sick child was brought in, and the grandmother —who after all loved it well-began a fresh moan over her losses to its unconscious ears-saying how she had planned to consult this or that doctor, and to give it this or that comfort or luxury in after years, but that now all chance of this had passed away -Alice's heart was touched, and she drew near to Mrs. Wilson with unwonted caresses, and, in a spirit not unlike to that of Ruth, entreated, that come what would, they might remain together. After much discussion in succeeding days, it was arranged that Mr. Wilson should take a house in Manchester, furnishing it partly with what furniture she had, and providing the rest with Alice's remaining two hundred pounds. Mrs. Wilson was herself a Manchester woman, and naturally longed to return to her native town. Some connexions of her own at that time required lodgings, for which they were willing to pay pretty handsomely. Alice undertook the active superintendence and superior work of~the household. Norah, willing, faithful Norah, offered to cook, scour, do anything in short so that she might remain with them. The plan succeeded. For some years their first lodgers remained with them, and all went smoothly,-with the one sad exception of the little girl's increasing deformity. How that mother loved that child, is not for words to tell I Then came a break of misfortune. Their lodgers left, and no one suc. ceeded to them. After some months they had to remove to a smaller house; and Alice's tender conscience was torn by the idea that she ought not to be a burden to her mother-in-law, but ought to go out and seek THE MANCHESTER MARRIAGE. 33 her own maintenance. And leave her child! The thought came like the sweeping boom of a funeral bell over her heart. Bye-and-bye, Mr. Openshaw came to lodge with them. He had started in life as the errand-boy and sweeper-out of a warehouse; had struggled up through all the grades of employment in the place, fighting his way through the hard-striving Manchester life with strong pushing energy of character. Every spare moment of time had been sternly given up to self-teaching. He was a capital accountant, a good French and German scholar, a keen, far-seeing tradesman; understanding markets, and the bearing of events, both near and distant, on trade: and yet, with such vivid "attention to present details, that I do not think he ever saw a group of flowers in the fields without thinking whether their colors would, or would not, form harmonious contrasts in the coming spring muslins and prints. Ile went to debating societies, and threw himself with all his heart and soul illto politics; esteeming, it must be owned, every man a fool or a knave who differed from him, and overthrowing his opponents rather by the loud strength of his language than the calm strength of his logic. There was something of the Yankee in all this. Indeed, his theory ran parallel to the famous Yankee motto-"England flogs creation, and Manchester flogs England."' Such a man, as may be fancied, had had no time for falling in love, or any such nonsense. At the age when most young men go through their courting and matrimony, he had not the means of keeping a wife, and was far-too practical to think of having one. And now that he was in easy circumstances, a rising man, he considered women almost as incumbrances to the world, with whom a man lhad better have as little to do as possible. His first impression of Alice was indistinct, and he did not care enough about her to make it distinct. "A pretty yea-nay kind of~woman," would have been his description of her, if he had been pushed into a corner. He was rather afraid, in, the beginning, that her quiet ways arose from a listlessness and laziness of character, which would have been exceedingly discordant to his active energetic nature. But, when he found out the punctuality with which his wishes were attended to, and her work was done; when he was called in the morning at the very stroke of the clock, his shaving-water scalding hot, his fire bright, his coffee make exactly as his peculiar fancy dictated (for he was a man who had his theory about everything, based upon what he knew of science, and often perfectly original),-then he began. to think: not that Alice had any peculiar merit; but that he had got into remarkably good lodgings: his restlessness wore away, and he began to consider himself as almost settled for life in them. Mr. Openshaw had been too busy, all his life, to be introspective. He did not know that he had any tenderness in his nature; and if he had become conscious of its abstract existence, he would have considered it as a manifestation of disease in some part of his nature. But he was decoyed 34 - A HOUSE TO LET. into pity unawares; and pity led on to tenderness. That little helpless child-always carried about by one of the three busy women of the house, or else patiently threading colored beads in the chair from which, by no effort of its own, could it ever move; the great grave blue eyes, full of serious, not uncheerful, expression, giving to the small delicate face a look beyond its years; the soft plaintive voice dropping out but few words, so unlike the continual prattle of a child-caught Mr. Openshaw's attention in spite of himself. One day —he half scorned himself for doing so-he cut short his dinner-hour to go in search of some toy which should take the place of those eternal beads. I forget what he bought; but, when he gave the present (which he took care to do in a short abrupt, manner, and when no one was by to see him) he was almost thrilled by the flash of delight that came over that child's face, and could not help all through that afternoon going over and over again the picture left on his memory, by the bright effect of unexpected joy on the little girl's face. When he returned home, he found his slippers placed by his sitting-room fire; and even more careful attention paid to his fancies than was habitual in those model lodgings. When Alice had taken the last of his tea-things away -she had been silent as usual till then-she stood for an instant with the door in her hand. Mr. Openshaw looked as if he were deep in his book, though in fact he did not see a line; but was heartily wishing the woman would be gone, and not make any palaver of gratitude. But she only said: "I am very much obliged to you; Sir. Thank you very much," and was gone, even before he could send her away with a "There, my good woman, that's enough!" For some time longer he took no apparent notice of the cLild. He even hardened his heart into disregarding her"sudden flush of color and little timid smile of recognition, when he saw her by chance. But, after all, this could not last for ever; and, having a second time given way to tenderness, there was no relapse. The insidious enemy having thus entered his heart, in the guise of compassion to the child, soon assumed the more dangerous form of interest in the mother. He was aware of this change of feeling, despised himself for it, struggled with it; nay, internally yielded to it and cherished it, long before he suffered the slightest expression of it, by word, action, or look, to escape him. He watched Alice's docile obedient ways to her stepmother; the love which she had inspired in the rough Norah (roughened by the wear and tear of sorrow and years); but above all, he saw the wild, deep, passionate affection existing between her and her child. They spoke little to any one else, or when any one else was by; but, when alone together, they talked, and murmured, and cooed, and chattered so continually, that Mr. Openshaw first wondered what they could find to say to each other, and next became irritated because they were always so grave and silent with him. All this THE MANCHESTER MARRIAGE. 35 time, he was perpetually devising small new pleasures for the child. His thoughts ran, in a pertinacious way, upon the desolate life before her; and often he came back from his day's work loaded with the very thing Alice had been longing for, but had not been able to procure. One time it was a little chair for drawing the little sufferer along the streets, and many an evening that ensuing summer, Mr. Openshaw drew her along himself, regardless of the remarks of his acquaintances. One day in autumn he put down his newspaper, as Alice came in with the breakfast, and said, in as indifferent a voice as he could assume:"Mrs. Frank, is there any reason why we two should not put up our horses together?" Alice stood still in perplexed wonder. What did he mean I He had resumed the reading of his newspaper, as if he did not expect any answer; so she found silence her safest course, and went on quietly arranging his breakfast without another word passing between them. Just as he was leaving the house, to go to the warehouse as usual, he turned back and put his head into the bright, neat, tidy kitchen, where all the women breakfasted in the morning: " You'll think of what I said, Mrs. Frank" (this was her name with the lodgers), "and let me have your opinion upon it to-night." Alice was thankful that her mother and Norah were tootbusy talking together to attend much to this speech. She determined not to think about it at all through the day; and, of course, the effort not to think, made her think all the more. At night she sent up Norah with his tea. But Mr. Openshaw almost knocked Norah down as she was going out at the door, by pushing past her and calling out "Mrs. Frank I" in an impatient voice, at the top of the stairs. Alice went up, rather than seem to have affixed too much meaning to his words. "Well, Mrs. Frank," he said, "what answer? Don't make it too long; for I have lots of office work to get through to-night." " I hardly know what you meant, Sir," said truthful Alice. "Well I I should have thought you might have guessed. You're not new at this sort of work, and I am. However, I'll make it plain this time. Will you have me to be thy wedded husband, and serve me, and love me, and honor me, and all that sort' of thing? Because, if you will, I will do as much by you, and be a father to your child —and that's more than is put in the prayer-book. Now, I'm a man of my word; and what I say, I feel; and what I promise, I'll do. Now, for your answer I" Alice was silent. He began to make the tea, as if her reply was a matter of perfect indifference to him; but, as soon as that was done, he became impatient. "Well?" said he. " How long, sir, may I have to think over it?" 36 A HOUSE TO LET. "Three minutes I" (looking at his watch). "You've had two already — that makes five. Be a sensible woman, say Yes, and sit down to tea with me, and we'll talk it over together; for, after tea, I shall be busy; say No" (he hesitated a moment to try and keep his voice in the same tone), " and I shan't say another word about it, but pay up a year's rent for my rooms to-morrow, and be off. Time's up I Yes or no?" "If you please, sir,-you have been so good to little Ailsie " "There, sit down comfortably by me on the sofa, and let us have our tea together. I am glad to find you are as good and sensible as I took you for." And this was Alice Wilson's second wooing. Mr. Openshaw's will was too strong, and his circumstances too good, for him not to carry all before him. He settled Mrs. Wilson in a comfortable house of her own, and made her quite independent of lodgers. The little that Alice said with regard to future plans was in Norah's behalf. "No," said Mr. Openshaw. "Norah shall take care of the old lad.as long as she lives, and, after that, she shall either come and live witl us, or, if she likes it better, she shall have a provision for life-for your sake, missus. No one who has been good to you or the child shall go unrewarded.'But even the little one will be better for some fresh stuff about her. Get her a bright, sensible girl as a nurse; one who won't go rubbing her with calf's-foot jelly as Norah does; wasting good stuff outside that ought to go in, but will follow doctor's directions; which, as you see pretty clearly by this time, Norah won't; because they give the poor little wench pain. Now, I'm not above being nesh for other folks myself. I can stand a good blow, and never change color; but, set me in the operating room in the Infirmary, and I turn as sick as a girl. Yet, if need were, I would hold the little wench on my knees while she screeched with pain, if it were to do her poor back good. Nay, nay, wench I keep your white looks for the time when it comes-I don't say it ever will. But this I know, Norah will spare the child and cheat the doctor if she can. Now, I say, give the bairn a year or two's' chance, and then, when the pack of doctors have done their best-and, maybe, the old lady has gone-we'll have Norah back, or do better for her." The pack of doctors could do no good to little Ailise. She was beyond their power. But her father (for-so he insisted on being called, and also on Alice's no longer retaining the appellation of Mama, but becoming henceforward Mother), by his healthy cheerfulness of manner, his clear decision of purpose, his odd turns and quirks of humor, added to his real strong love for the helpless little girl, infused a new element of brightness and confidence into her life; and, though her back remained the same, her general health was strengthened, and Alice-never going beyond a smile herself-had the pleasure of seeing her child taught to laugh. THE MANCHESTER MARRIAGE. 37 As for Alice's own life, it was happier than it had ever been. Mr. Openshaw required no demonstration, no expressions of affection from her. Indeed, these would rather have disgusted him. Alice could love deeply, but could not talk about it. The perpetual requirement of loving words, looks, and caresses, and misconstruing their absence into absence of love, had been the great trial of her former married life. Now, all went on clear and straight, under the guidance of her husband's strong sense, warm heart, and powerful will. Year by year their worldly prosperity increased. At Mrs. Wilson's death, Norah came back to them, as nurse to the newly-born little Edwin; into which post she was not installed without a pretty strong oration on the part of the proud and happy father; who declared that if he found out that Norah ever tried to screen the boy by a falsehood, or to make him nesh either in body or mind, she should go that very day. Norah and Mr. Openshaw were not on the most thoroughly cordial terms; neither of them fully recognizing or appreciating the other's best qualities. This was the previous history of the Lancashire family who had now removed to London, and had come to occupy the House. They had been there about a year, when Mr. Openshaw suddenly informed his wife that he had determined to heal long-standing feuds, and had asked his uncle and aunt Chadwick to come and pay them a visit and see London. Mrs. Openshaw had never seen this uncle and aunt of her limsband's. - Years before she had married him, there had been a quarrel. A17 she knew was, that Mr. Chadwick was a small manufacturer in a country town in South Lancashire. She was extremely pleased that the breach was to be healed, and began making preparations to render their visit pleasant. They arrived at last. Going to see London was such an event to them, that Mrs. Chadwick had made all new linen fresh for the occasion-from night-caps downwards; and, as for gowns, ribbons, and collars, she might have been going into the wilds of Canada where never a shop is, so large was her stock. A fortnight before the day of her departure for London she had formally called to take leave of all her acquaintance; saying she should need all the intermediate time for packing up. It was like a second wedding in her imagination; and, to complete the resemblance which an entirely new wardrobe made between the two events, her husband brought her back from Manchester, on the last market-day before they set off, a gorgeous pearl and amethyst brooch, saying, "Lunnon should see that Lancashire folks knew a handsome thing when they saw it." For some time after Mr. and Mrs. Chadwick arrived at the Openshaws, there was no opportunity for wearing this brooch; but at length they obtained an order to see Buckingham Palace, and the spirit of loyalty demanded that Mrs. Chadwick should wear her best clothes in visiting the abode of her sovereign O:u her return, she hastily changed her dress; 38 A HOUSE TO LET. for Mr. Openshaw had planned that they should go to Richmond, drink tea and return by moonlight. Accordingly, about five o'clock, Mr. and Mrs. Openshaw and Mr. and Mrs. Chadwick set off. The housemaid and cook sate below, Norah hardly knew where. She was always engrossed in the nursery, in tending her two children, and in sitting by the restless, excitable Ailsie till she fell asleep. Bye-and-bye, the housemaid Bessy tapped gently at the door. Norah went to her, and they spoke in whispers. " Nurse' there's some one down-stairs wants you.":" Wants me i Who is it?" "A gentleman —" "A gentleman? Nonsense I" " Well! a man, then, and he asks for you, and he rung at the front door bell, and has walked- into the dining-room." "You should never have let him," exclaimed Norah, "master and missus out-," "I did not want him to come in; but, when he heard you lived here, he walked past me, and sat down on the first chair, and said,'Tell her te come and speak to me.' There is no gas lighted in the room, and supper is all set out." " He'll be off with the spoons!" exclaimed Norah, putting the house maid's fear into words, and preparing to leave the room, first, however giving a look to Ailsie, sleeping soundly and calmly. Down-stairs she went, uneasy fears stirring in her bosom. Before she entered the dining-room she provided herself with a candle, and, with it in her hand, she went in, looking round her in the darkness for her visitor. He was standing up, holding by the table. Norah and he looked at each other; gradual recognition coming into their eyes. "Norah?" at length he asked. "Who are you?" asked Norah, with the sharp tones of alarm and incredulity. "I don't know you:" trying, by futile words of disbelief, to do away with the terrible fact before her. "Am I so changed?" he said, pathetically. "I daresay I am. But, Norah, tell me!" he breathed hard, "where is my wife? Is she —is she alive?" He came nearer to Norah, and would have taken her hand; but she backed away from him; looking at him all the time with staring eyes, as if he were some horrible object. Yet he was a handsome, bronzed, goodlooking fellow, with beard and moustache, giving him a foreign-looking aspect; but his eyes I there was no mistaking those eager, beautiful eyes -the very same that Norah had watched not half-an-hour ago, till sleep stole softly over them. & "Tell me, Norah-I can bear it-I have feared it so often. Is she THE MANCHESTER I1AiRRIAG(E. 39 dead?" Norah still kept silence. "She is dead!" He hung or Norah's words and looks, as if for confirmation or contradiction. "What shall I do? " groaned Norah. "0, sir I why did you come? how did you find me out? where have you been? We thought you dead, we did, indeed I " She poured out words and questions to gain time, as if time would help her. " Norah I answer me this question straight, by yes or no-Is my wife dead?" " No, she is not!" said Norah, slowly and heavily. " Oh, what a relief I Did she receive my letters? But perhaps you don't know. Why did you leave her? Where is she? O, Norah, tell me all quickly!" " Mr. Frank I" said Norah, at last, almost driven to bay by her terror lest her mistress should return at any moment, and find him there —unable to consider what was best to be done or said-rushing at something decisive, because she could not endure her present state: "Mr. Frank! we never heard a line from you, and the shipowners said you had gone down, you and every one else. We thought you were dead, if ever man was, and poor Miss Alice and her sick, helpless child I 0, sir, you must guess it,', cried the poor creature at last, bursting out into a passionate fit of crying " for indeed I cannot tell it. But it was no one's fault. God help us all this night 1" Norah had sate down. She trembled too much to stand. He took her hands in his. IHe squeezed them hard, as if by physical pressure the truth could be wrung out. IN orah!" This time, his tone was calm, stagnant as despair. "She has married again I" Norah shook her head sadly. The grasp slowly relaxed. The man had fainted. There was brandy in the room. Norah forced some drops into Mr. Frank's mouth, chafed his hands, and-when mere animal life returned, before the mind poured in its flood of memories and thoughts —she lifted him up, and rested his head against her knees. Then she put a few crumbs of bread taken from the supper-table, soaked in brandy, into his mouth Suddenly he sprang to his feet. " Where is she? Tell me this instant." He looked so wild, so mad, so desperate, that Norah felt herself to be in bodily danger; but her time of dmad had gone by. She had been afraid to tell him the truth, and then she had been a coward.' Now, her wits were sharpened by the se of his desperate state. He must leave the house. She would pity afterward; but now she must rather command and upbraid; for he leave the house before her mistress came home. That one necessity clear before her. "She is not here: that is enough for you to know. Nor can t 40 A HOUSE TO LET. actly where she is" (which was true to the letter if not to the spirit). " Go away, and tell me where to find you to-morrow, and I will tell you all. My master and mistress may come back at any mintute, and then what would become of me with a strange man in the house?" Such an argument was too petty to touch his excited mind. "I don't care for your master and mistress. If your master is a man, he must feel for me-poor, shipwrecked sailor that I am-kept for years a prisoner amongst savages, always, always, always thinking of my wife and my home-dreaming of her by night, talking to her, though she could not hear, by day. I loved her more than all heaven and earth put together. Tell me where she is, this instant, you wretched woman, who salved over wickedness to her, as you do to me." The clock struck ten. Desperate positions require desperate measures. "If you will leave the house now, I will come to you to-morrow and tell you all. What is more, you shall see your child now. She lies sleeping up-stairs. 0, sir, you have a child, you do not know that as yet-a little weakly girl-with just a heart and soul beyond her years. We have reared her up with such care. We watched her, for we thought for many a year she might die any day, and we tended her, and no hard thing has come near her, and no rough word has ever been said to her. And now you come and will take her life into your hand, and will crush it. Strangers to her have been kind to her; but her own father-Mr. Frank, I am her nurse, and I love her, and I tend her, and I would do anything for her that I could. Her mother's heart beats as hers beats, and, if she suffers a pain, her mother trembles all over. If she is happy, it is her mother that smiles and is glad. If she is growing stronger, her mother is healthy; if she dwindles, her mother languishes. If she dies-well, I don't know: it is not every one can lie down and die when they wish it. Come up-stairs, Mr. Frank, and see your child. Seeing her will do good to your poor heart. Then go away, in God's name, just this one night-to-morrow, if need be, you can do anything-kill us all if you will, or show yourself a great grand man, whom God will bless for ever and ever. Come, Mr. Frank, the look of a sleeping child is sure to give peace.7" She led him up-stairs; at first almost helping his steps, till they came near the nursery door. She had almost forgotten the existence of little Edwin. It struck upon her with affright as the shaded light fell upon the other cot; but she skilfully threw that corner of the room into dark. ness, and let the light fall on the sleeping Ailsie. The child had thrown down the coverings, and her deformity, as she lay with her back to them, was plainly visible through her slight night-gown. Her little face, deprived of the lustre of her eyes, looked wan and pinched, and had a pathetic expression in it, even as she slept. The poor father looked'and looked with hungry, wistful eyes, into which the big tears came THE MANCHESTER MARRIAGE. 41 swelling up slowly, and dropped heavily down, as he stood'trembling and shaking all over. Norah was angry with herself for growing impatient of the length of time that long lingering gaze lasted. She thought that she waited for full half-an-hour before Frank stirred. And theninstead of going away —he sank down on his knees by the bedside, and buried his face in the clothes. Little Ailsie stirred uneasily. Norah pulled him up in terror. She could afford no more time even for prayer in her extremity of fear; for surely the next moment would bring her mistress home. She took him forcibly by the arm; but, as he was going, his eye lighted on the other bed: he stopped. Intelli gence came back into his face. His hands clenched. " His child?" he asked. " Her child," replied Norah. "God watches over him," said she instinctively; for Frank's looks excited her fears, and she needed to remind herself of the Protector of the helpless. " God has not watched over me," he said, in despair; his thoughts apparently recoiling on his own desolate, deserted state. But Norah had no time for pity. To-morrow she would be as compassionate as her heart prompted. At length she guided him down stairs and shut the outer door and bolted it-as if by bolts to keep out facts. Then she went back into the dining-room and effaced all traces of his presence as far as she could. She went up stairs to the nursery and sate there, her head on her hand, thinking what was to come of all this misery. It seemed to her very long before they did return; yet it was hardly eleven o'clock. She heard the loud, hearty Lancashire voices on the stairs; and, for the first time, she understood the contrast of the desolation of the poor man who had so lately gone forth in lonely despair. It almost put her out of patience to see Mrs. Openshaw come in, calmly smiling, handsomely dressed, happy, easy, to inquire after her children. " Did Ailsie go to sleep comfortably?" she whispered to Norah. " Yes." Her mother bent over her, looking at her slumbers with the soft eyes of love. How little she dreamed who had looked on her last! Then she went to Edwin, with perhaps less wistful anxiety in her countenance, but more of pride. She took off her things, to go down to supper. Norah saw her no more that night. Beside the door into the passage, the sleeping-nursery opened out of Mr. and Mrs. Openshaw's room, in order that they might have the children nore immediately under their own eyes. Early the next summer morning Mrs. Openshaw was awakened by Ailsie's startled call of "Mother! mother!" She sprang up, put on her dressing-gown, and went to her child. Ailsie was only half awake, and in a not uncommon state of terror. "Who was he mother? Tell me?" 42 A HOUSE TO LET. "Who, my darling? No one is here. You have been dreaming love. Waken up quite. See, it is broad daylight." "Yes," said Ailsie, looking around her; then clinging to her mother, said, "but a man was here in the night, mother." "Nonsense, little goose. No man has never come near you I" "Yes, he did. He stood there. Just by Norah. A man with hair and a beard. And he knelt down and said his prayers. Norah knows he was here, mother" (half angrily, as Mrs. Openshaw shook her head in smiling incredulity). "Well, we will ask Norah when she comes," said Mrs. Openshaw, soothingly. "But we won't talk any more about hlim now. It is not five o'clock; is is too early for you to get up. Shall I fetch you a book and read to you?" "Don't leave me, mother," said the child, clinging to her. So Mrs. Openshaw sate on the bedside talking to Ailsie, and telling her of what they had done at Richmond the evening before, until the little girl's eyes slowly closed and she once more fell asleep. "What was the matter?" asked Mr. Openshaw, as his wife returned to bed. " Ailsie wakened up in a fright, with some story of a man having been in the room to say his prayers,-a dream, I suppose." And no more was said at the time. Mrs. Openshaw had almost forgotten the whole affair when she got up about seven o'clock. But, bye-and-bye, she heard a sharp altercation going on in the nursery. Norah speaking angrily to Ailsie, a most unusual thing. Both Mr. and Mrs. Openshaw listened in astonishment. " Hold your tongue, Ailsie I let me hear none of your dreams; never let me hear you tell that story again 1" Ailsie began to cry. Mr. Openshaw opened the door of communication before his wife could say a word. "Norah, come here 1" The nurse stood at the door, defiant. She perceived she had been heard, but she was desperate. "Don't let me hear you speak in that manner to Ailsie aaill," he said sternly, and shut the door. Norah was infinitely relieved; for she had dreaded some questioning; and a little blame for sharp speaking was what she could well bear, if cross-examination was let alone. Down stairs they went, Mr. Openshaw carrying Ailsie; the sturdy Edwin coming step by step, right foot foremost, always holding his mother's hand. Each child was placed in a chair by the breakfast-table, and then Mr. and Mrs. Openshaw stood together at the window, awaiting their visitor's appearance and making plans for the day. There was a pause. Suddenly Mr. Openshaw turned to Ailsie, and said: THE MANCHESTER MARRIAGE. 43 "What a little goosy somebody is with her dreams waking up poor, tired mother in the middle of the night with a story of a man being in the room." "Father I I'm sure I saw him," said Ailsie, half crying. " I don't want to make Norah angry; but I was not asleep, for all she says I was. I had been asleep-and I awakened up quite wide awake, though I was so frightened. I kept my eyes nearly shut, and I saw the man quite plain. A great brown man with a beard. He said his prayers. And then he looked at Edwin. And then Norah took him by the arm and led him away, after they had whispered a bit together." "Now, my little woman must be reasonable," said Mr. Openshaw, who was always patient with Ailsie. " There was no man in the house last night at all. No man comes into the house as you know, if you think; much less goes up into the nursery. But sometimes we dream something has happened, and the dream is so like reality, that you are not the first person, little woman, who has stood out that the thing has really happened. " " But, indeed it was not a dream!" said Ailsie, beginning to cry. Just then, Mr. and Mrs. Chadwick came down, looking grave and discomposed. All during breakfast time they were silent and uncomfortable. As soon as the breakfast things were taken away, and the children had been carried up-stairs, Mr. Chadwick began, in an evidently preconcerted manner, to inquire if his nephew was certain that all his servants were honest; for, that Mrs. Chadwick had that morning missed a very valuable brooch, which she had worn the day before. She remembered taking it off when she came home from Buckingham Palace. Mr. Openshaw's face contracted into hard lines: grew like what it was before he had known his wife and her child. He rang the bell even before his uncle had done speaking. It was answered by the housemaid. "Mary, was any one here last night while we were away?" "A man, sir, came to speak to Norah." "' To speak to Norah! Who was he? How long did he stay?" " I'm sure I can't tell, sir. He came —perhaps about nine. I went up to tell Norah in the nursery, and she came down to speak to him. She let him out, sir. She will know who he was, and how long he stayed." She waited a moment to be asked any more questions, but she was not, so she went away. A minute afterward Openshaw made as though he were going out of the room; but his wife laid her hand on his arm: "Do not speak to her before the children," she said, in her low, quiet voice. "I will go up and question her." "No! I must speak to her. You must know," said he, turning to his uncle and aunt, "my missus has an old servant, as faithful as ever woman 44 A HOUSE TO LET was, I do believe, as far as love goes-but, at the same time, who does not always speak truth, as even the missus must allow. Now, my notion is, that this Norah of ours has been come over by some good-for-nothing phap (for she's at the time o' life when they say women pray for husbands -' any, good Lord, any,') and has let him into our house, and the chap has made off with your brooch, and m'appen many another thing beside. It's only saying that Norah is soft-hearted, and does not stick at a white lie-that's all, missus.1" It was curious to notice how his tone, his eyes, his whole face changed as he spoke to his wife; but he was the resolute man through all. She knew better than to oppose him; so she went up stairs, and told Norah her master wanted to speak to her, and that she would take care of the children in the meafiwhile. Norah rose to go without a word. Her thoughts were these: "If they tear me to pieces they shall never know through me. He may come, —and then just Lord have mercy upon us all: for some of us are dead folk to a certainty. But he shall do it; not me." You may fancy, now, her look of determination as she faced her master alone in the dining-room; Mr. and Mrs. Chadwick having left the affair in their nephew's hands, seeing that he took it up with such vehemence.'" Norah I Who was that man that came to my house last night?" "Man, sir I" As if infinitely surprised; but it was only to gain time. "Yes; the man whom Mary let in; whom she went up-stairs to the nursery to tell you about; whom you came down to speak to; the same chap, I make no doubt, whom you took into the nursery to have your talk out with; whom Ailsie saw, and afterwards dreamed about; thinking, poor wench I she saw' him say his prayers, when nothing, I'll be bound, was farther from his thoughts; who took Mrs. Chadwick's brooch, value ten pounds. Now, Norah I Don't go off I I am as sure as that my name's Thomas Openshaw, that you knew nothing of this robbery. But I do think you've been imposed on, and that's the truth. Some goodfor-nothing chap has been making up to you, and you've been just like all other women, and have turned a soft place in your heart to him; and he came last night a-lovyering, and you had him up in the nursery, and he made use of his opportunities, and made off with a few things on his way down! C ome, now, Norah: it's no blame to you, only you must not be such a fool again! Tell us," he continued, " what name he gave you, Norah? I'll be bound it was -not the right one; but it will be a clue for the police." Norah drew herself up. "You may ask that question, and taunt me with my being single, and with my credulity, as you will, Master Openshaw. You'll get no answer from me. As for the brooch, and the story of theft and burglary; if any friend ever came to see me (which I defy THE MANCHESTER MARRIAGE. 45 you to prove, and deny), he'd be just as much above doing such a thing, as you yourself, Mr. Openshaw and more so, too; for I'm not at all sure as everything you have is rightly come by, or would be yours long, if every man had his own." She meant, of course, his wife; but he understood her to refer to his property in goods and chattels. " Now, my good woman," said he, " I'll just tell you truly, I never trusted you out and out; but my wife liked you, and I thought you had many a good point about you. If you once begin to sauce me, I'll have the police to you, and get out the truth in a court of justice, if you'll not tell it me quietly and civilly here. Now the best thing you can do is quietly to tell me who the fellow is. Look here I a man comes to my house; asks for you; you take him up-stairs, a valuable brooch is missing next day; we know that you, and Mary, and cook, are honest; but you refuse to tell us who the man is. Indeed you've told one lie already about him, saying no one was here last night. Now I just put it to you, what do you think a policeman would say to this, or a magistrate? A magistrate would soon make you tell the truth, my good woman." "' There's never the creature born that should get it out of me," said Norah. " Not unless I choose to tell." " I've a great mind to see," said Mr. Openshaw, growing angry at the defiance. Then, checking himself, he thought before he spoke again: " Norah, for your missus's sake I don't want to go to extremities. Be a sensible woman, if you can. It's no great disgrace, after all, to have been taken in. I ask you once more-as a friend-who was this man whom you let into my house last night?" No answer. He repeated the question in an impatient tone. Still no answer. Norah's lips were set in determination not to speak. " Then there is but one thing to be done. I shall send for a policeman." " You will not," said Norah, starting forwards. "You shall not, sir! No policeman shall touch me. I know nothing of the brooch, but I know this: ever since I was four and twenty I have thought more of your wife than of myself: ever since I saw her, a poor motherless girl put upon in her uncle's house, I have thought more of serving her than of serving myself! I have cared for her and her child, as nobody ever cared for me. I don't cast blame on you, sir, but I say it's ill giving up one's life to any one; for, at the end, they will turn round upon you, and forsake you. Why does not my missus come herself to suspect me? Maybe she is gone for the police? But I don't stay here, either for police, or magistrate, or master. You're an unlucky lot. I believe there's a curse on you. I'll leave you this very day. Yes I I'll leave that poor Ailsie, too. I will! No good will ever come to you I " Mr. Openshaw was utterly astonished at this speech; most of which was completely unintelligible to him, as may easily be supposed. Before he could make up his mind what to say orwhat to do, Norah had left the rooll 46 A HOUSE TO LET. I do not think he had ever really intended to send for the police to this old servant of his wife's; for he had never for a moment doubted her perfect honesty. But he had intended to compel her to tell him who the man was, and in this he was baffled. He was, consequently, much irritated. He returned to his uncle and aunt in a state of great annoyance and perplexity, and told them he could get nothing out of the woman; that some man hadcbeen in the house the night before; but that she refused to tell who he was. At this moment his wife came in, greatly agitated, and asked what had happened to Norah; for that she had put on her things in passionate haste, and had left the house. " This looks suspicious," said Mr. Chadwick. "It is not the way in which an honest person would have acted." Mr. Openshaw kept silence. He was sorely perplexed. But Mrs. Openshaw turned round on Mr. Chadwick with a' sudden fiercenness no one ever saw in her before. " You don't know Norah, uncle I She is gone because she is deeply hurt at being suspected. 0, I wish I had seen her —that I had spoken to her myself. She would have told me anything." Alice wrung her hands. "I must confess," continued Mr. Chadwick to his nephew, in a lower voice, "I can't make you out. You used to be a word and a blow, and oftenest the blow first; and now, when there is every cause for suspicion, you just do nought. Your missus is a very good woman, I grant; but she may have been put upon as well as other folk, I suppose. If you don't send for the police, I shall." "Very well," replied Mr. Openshaw, surlily. "I can't clear Norah. She won't clear herself, as I believe she might if she would. Only I wash my hands of it; for I am sure the woman herself is honest, and she's lived a long time with my wife, and I don't like her to come to shame." "But she will then be forced to clear herself. That, at any rate, will be a good thing." "Very well, very well! I am heart-sick of the whole business. Come, Alice, come up to the babies; they'll be in a sore way. I tell you, uncle!" he said, turning round once more to Mr. Chadwick, suddenly and sharply, after his eye had fallen on Alice's wan, tearful anxious face; " I'll have none sending for the police after all. I'll buy my aunt twice as handsome a brooch this very day; but I'll not have Norah suspected, and my missus plagued. There's for you." He and his wife left the room. Mr. Chadwick quietly waited till he was out of hearing, and then said to his wife: "For all Tom's heroics, I'm just quietly going for a detective, wench. Thou need'st know nought about it." He went to the police-station, and made a statement of the case. He was gratified by the impression which the evidence against Norah seemed THE MANCHESTER MARRIAGE. 47 to make. The men all agreed in his opinion, and steps were to be immediately taken to find out where she was. Most probably, as they suggested, she had gone at once to the man, who, to all appearance, was her lover. When Mr. Chadwick asked how they would find her out? they smiled, shook their heads, and spoke of mysterious but infallible ways and means. He returned to his nephew's house with a very comfortable opinion of his own sagacity. He was met by his wife with a penitent face: " O master, I've found my brooch! I t was just sticking by its pin in the flounce of my brown silk, that I wore yesterday. I took it off in a hurry, and it must have caught in it; and I hung up my gown in the closet. Just now, when I was going to fold it up, there was the brooch I I'm very vexed, but I never dreamt but what it was lost I " Her husband muttering something very like " Confound thee and thy brooch too! I wish I'd never given it thee," snatched up his hat, and rushed back to the station; hoping to be in time to stop the police from searching for Norah. But a detective was already gone off on the errand. Where was Norah? Half mad with the strain of the fearful secret, she had hardly slept through the night for thinking what must be done. Upon this terrible state of mind had come Ailsie's questions, showing that she had seen the Man, as the unconscious child called her father. Lastly came the suspicion of her honesty. She was little less than crazy as she ran up-stairs and dashed on her bonnet and shawl; leaving all else; even her purse, behind her. In that house she would not stay. That was all she knew or was clear about. She would not even see the children again, for fear it should weaken her. She feared above everything Mr. Frank's return to claim his wife. She could not tell what remedy there was for a sorrow so tremendous, for her to stay to witness. The desire of escaping from the coming event was a stronger motive for her departure than her soreness about the suspicious directed against her; although this last had beeni the final goad to the course she took. She walked away almost at headlong speed; sobbing as she went, as she had not dared to do during the past night for fear of exciting wonder in those who might hear her. Then she stopped. An idea came into her mind that she would leave London altogether, and betake herself to her native town of Liverpool. She felt in her pocket for her purse, as she drew near the Euston Square station with this intention. She had left it at home. Her poor head aching, her eyes swollen with crying, she had to stand still, and think, as well as she could, where next she should bend her steps. Suddenly the thought flashed into her mind that she would go and find out poor Mr. Frank. She had been hardly kind to him the night before, though her heart had bled for him ever since. She remembered his telling her, as she inquired for his address, almost as she had pushed him out of the door, of some hotel in a street not far distant 48 A HOUSE TO LET. from Euston Square. Thither she went: with what intention she hardly knew, hut to assuage her conscience by telling him how much she pitied him. In her present state she felt herself unfit to counsel, or restrain, or assist, or do aught else but sympathise and weep. The people of the inn said such a person had been there; had arrived only the day before; had gone out soon after his arrival, leaving his luggage in their care; but had never come back. Norah asked for leave to sit down, and await the gentleman's return. The landlady-pretty secure in the deposit of luggage against any probable injury-showed her into a room, and quietly locked the door on the outside. Norah was utterly worn out, and fell asleep-a shivering, starting, uneasy slumber, which lasted for hours. The detective, meanwhile, had come up with her some time before she entered the hotel, into which he followed her. Asking the landlady to detain her for an hour or so, without giving any reason beyond showing his authority (which made the landlady applaud herself a good deal for having locked her in), he went back to the police-station to report his proceedings. He could have taken her directly; but his object was, if possible, to trace out the man who was supposed to have committed the robbery. Then he heard of the discovery of the brooch; and consequently did not care to return. Norah slept till even the summer evening began to close in. Then up. Some one was at the door. It would be Mr. Frank; and she dizzily pushed back her ruffled grey hair, which had fallen over her eyes, and stood looking to see him. Instead, there came in Mr. Openshaw and a policeman. " This is Norah Kennedy," said Mr. Openshaw. "0, sir," said Norah, "I did not touch the brooch; indeed I did not. 0, sir, I cannot live to be thought so badly of;" and very sick and faint, she suddenly sank down on the ground. To her surprise, Mr. Openshaw raised her up very tenderly. Even the policeman helped to lay her on the sofa; and, at Mr. Openshaw's desire, he went for some wine and sandwiches; for the poor gaunt woman lay there almost as if dead with weariness and exhaustion. "Norah!" said Mr. Openshaw, in his kindest voice, "the brooch is found. It was hanging to Mrs. Chadwick's gown. I beg your pardon. Most truly I beg your pardon, for having troubled you about it. My wife is almost broken-hearted. Eat, Norah,-or, stay, first drink this glass of wine," said he, lifting her head, and pouring a little down her throat. As she drank, she remembered where she was, and who she was waiting for. She suddenly pushed Mr. Openshaw away, saying, "0, sir, you must go. You must not stop a minute. If he comes back, he will kill you." THE MANCHESTER IMARRIAGE. 49 "Alas, Norah I I do not know who'he' is. But some one is gone away who will never come back: some one who knew you, and whom I am afraid you cared for." " I don't understand you, sir," said Norah, —her master's kind and sorrowful manner bewildering her yet more than his words. The policeman had left the room at Mr. Openshaw's desire, and they two were alone. "You know what I mean, when I say some one is gone who will never come back. I mean that, he is dead I" " Who?" said Norah trembling all over. "A poor man has been found in the Thames this morning, drowned." "Did he drown himself?" asked Norah, solemnly. "God only knows," replied Mr. Openshaw, in the same tone. "Your name and address at our house, were found in his pocket: that, and his purse, were the only things that'were found upon him. I am sorry to say it, my poor Norah; but you are required to go and identify him." "To what?" asked Norah. "To say who it is. It is always done, in order that some reason may be discovered for the suicide,-if suicide it was. I make no doubt he was the same man who came to see you at our house last night. It is very sad, I know." He made pauses between each little clause, in order to try and bring back her senses, which he feared were wandering, —so wild and sad was her look. "Master Openshaw," said she, at last, "I've a dreadful secret to tell you,-only you must never breathe it to any one, and you and I must hide it away for ever. I thought to have done it all by,myself, but I see I cannot. Yon poor man,-yes I the dead, drowned creature is, I fear, Mr. Frank, my mistress's first husband!" Mr. Openshaw sate down, as if shot. He did not speak; but, after a while, he signed to Norah to go on. " He came to me the other night,-when —God be thanked —you were all away at Richmond. He asked me if his wife was dead or alive. I was a brute, and thought more of your all coming home than of his sore trial. I spoke out sharp, and said she was married again, and very content and happy. I all but turned him away,-and now he lies dead and cold!" "God forgive me 1" said Mr. Openshaw. "God forgive us all 1" said Norah. "Yon poor man needs forgiveness perhaps less than anyone among us. He had been among the savagesshipwrecked —I know not what-and he had written letters which had never reached my poor missus." "He saw his child!" "He saw her-yes I took him up, to give his thoughts another start; for I believed he was going mad on my hands. I came to seek 3 50 A HOUSE TO LET. him here, as I more than half-promised. My mind misgave me when I heard he had never come in. 0, sir! it must be him!" Mr. Openshaw rang the bell. Norah was almost too much stunned to wonder at what he did. He asked for writing materials, wrote a letter, and then said to Norah: "I am writing to Alice, to say I shall be unavoidably absent for a few days; that I have found you; that you are well, and send her your love, and will come home to-morrow. You must go with me to the. Police Court; you must identify the body: I will pay high to keep names and details out of the papers." "But where are you going, sir?" He did not answer her directly. Then he said: "Norah! I must go with you, and look on the face of the man whom I have so injured-unwittingly, it is true; but it seems to me as if I had killed him. I will lay his head in the grave, as if he were my only brother: and how he must have hated me I I cannot go home to my wife till all that I can do for him is done. Then I go with a dreadful secret on my mind. I shall never speak of it again, after these days are over. I know you will not, either." He shook hands with her: and they never named the subject again, the one to the other. Norah went home to Alice the next day. Not a word was said on the cause of her abrupt departure a day or two before. Alice had been charged by her husband in his letter not to allude to the supposed theft of the brooch; so she, implicitly obedient to those whom she loved both by nature and habit, was entirely silent on the subject, only treated Norah with the most tender respect, as if to make up for unjust suspicion. Nor did Alice inquire into the reason why Mr. Openshaw had been absent during his uncle and aunt's visit, after he had once said that it was unavoidable. He came back, grave and quiet; and, from that time forth, was curiously changed. More thoughtful, and perhaps less active; quite as decided in conduct, but with new rules for the guidance of that conduct. Towards Alice he could hardly be more kind than he had always been; but he now seemed to look upon her as some one sacred and to be treated with reverence, as well as tenderness. He throve in business, and made a large fortune, one half of which was settled upon her. Long years after these events, —a few months after her mother died Ailsie and her "father" (as she always called Mr. Openshawr), drove to a cemetery a little way out of town, and she was carried to a certain mound by her maid, who was then sent back to the carriage. There was a head-stone, with F. W. and a date. That was all. Sitting by the grave, Mr. Openshaw told her the story; and for the sad fate of that poor father whom she had never seen, he shed the only tears she ever saw tll from his eyes. THE MANCHESTER MARRIAGE. 51 " A most interesting story, all through," I said, as Jarber folded up the first of his series of discoveries in triumph. "A story that goes straight to the heart-especially at the eend. But"- I stopped, and looked at Trottle. Trottle entered his protest directly in the shape of a cough. "Well I" I said, beginning to lose my patience. "Don't you see that I want you to speak, and that I don't want you to cough?" "Quite so, ma'am," said Trottle, in a state of respectful obstinacy which would have upset the temper of a saint. "Relative, I presume, to this story, ma'am?" "Yes, yes I" said Jarber. "By all means let us hear what this good man has to say." "Well, sir," answered Trottle, "I want to know why the House over the way doesn't let, and I don't exactly see how your story answers the question. That's all I have to say, sir." I should have liked to contradict my opinionated servant, at that moment. But, excellent as the story was in itself, I felt that he had hit on the weak point, so far as Jarber's particular purpose in reading it was concerned. " And that is what you have to say, is it?" repeated Jarber. "L enter this room announcing that I have a series of discoveries, and you jump instantly to the conclusion that the first of the series exhausts my resources. Have I your permission, dear lady; to enlighten this obtuse person, if possible, by reading Number Two?" "My work is behindhand, ma'am," said Trottle, moving to the door, the moment I gave Jarber leave to go on. "Stop where you are," I said, in my most peremptory manner, "and give Mr. Jarber his fair opportunity of answering your objection now you have made it." Trottle sat down with the look of a martyr, and Jarber began to read with his back turned on the enemy more decidedly than ever. CEI4PTER III. GOING INTO SOCIETY. AT one period of its reverses, the House fell into the occupation of a Showman. He was found registered as its occupier, on the parish books of the time when he rented the House, and there was therefore no need of any clue to his name. But, he himself was less easy to be found; for, he had led a wandering life, and settled people had lost sight of him, and people who plumed themselves on being respectable were shy of admitting that they had ever known anything of him. At last, among the marsh lands near the river's level, that lie about Deptford and the neighboring market-gardens, a Grizzled Personage in velveteen, with a face so cut up by varieties of weather that he looked as if he had been tattoo'd, was found smoking a pipe at the door of a wooden house on wheels. The wooden house was laid up in ordinary for the winter near the mouth of a muddy creek; and everything near it, the foggy river, the misty marshes, and the steaming market-gardens, smoked in company with the grizzled man. In the midst of this smoking party, the funnelchimney of the wooden house on wheels was not remiss, but took its pipe with the rest in a companionable manner. On being asked if it were he who had once rented the House to Let, Grizzled Velveteen looked surprised, and said yes. Then his name was Mlagsman? That was it, Toby Magsrnan-which lawfully christened Robert; but called in the line, from a infant, Toby. There was nothing agin Toby Magsman, he believed? If there was suspicion of suchmention it I There was no suspicion of such, he might rest assured. But, some inquiries were making about that House, and would he object to say why he left it? Not at all; why should he? He left it, along of a Dwarf. Along of a Dwarf? Mr. Magsman repeated, deliberately and emphatically, Along of a Dwarf. Might it be compatible with Mr. Magsman's inclination and convenience, to enter, as a favor, into a few particulars? Mr. Magsman entered into the following particulars. It was a long time ago, to begin with; —afore lotteries and a deal more, was done away with. Mr. Magsman was looking about for a good pitch, and he sees that house, and he says to himself, "' I'll have you, if you're to be had. If money'll get you, I'll have you." (523 GOING INTO SOCIETY. 53 The neighbors cut up rough, and made complaints; but Mr. Magsman don't know what they would have had. It was a lovely thing. First of all, there was the canvass, representin the picter of the Giant, in Spanish trunks and a ruff, who was himself half the heighth of the house, and was run up with a line and pulley to a pole on the roof, so that his Ed was coeval with the parapet. Then, there was the canvass, representin the picter of the Albina lady, showin her white air to the Army and Navy in correct uniform. Then, there was the canvass, representin the picter of the Wild Indian a scalpin a member of some foreign nation. Then, there was the canvass, representin the picter of a child of a British Planter, seized by two Boa Constrictors-not that we never had no child, nor no Constrictors neither. Similiarly, there was the canvass, representin the picter of the Wild Ass of the Prairies-not that we never had no wild asses, nor wouldn't have had'em at a gift. Last, there was the canvass, representin the picter of the Dwarf, and like him too (considerin), with George the Fourth in such a state of astonishment at him as His Majesty couldn't with his utmost politeness and stoutness express. The front of the House was so covered with canvasses, that there wasn't a spark of daylight ever visible on that side. " MAGSMAN'S AMUSEMENTS," fifteen foot long by two foot high, ran over the front door and parlor winders. The passage was a Arbor of green baize and gardenstuff. A barrel-organ performed there unceasing. And as to respectability,-if threepence ain't respectable, what is? But, the Dwarf is the principal article at present, and he was worth the money. He was wrote up as MAJOR TPSCHOFFKT, OF THE IMPERIAL BULGRADERIAN BRIGADE. Nobody couldn't pronounce the name, and it never was intended nobody should. The public always turned it, as a regular rule, into Chopski. In the line he was called Chops; partly on that account, and partly because his real name, if he ever had any real name (which was very dubious), was Stakes. He was a un-common small man, he really was. Certainly, not so small as he was made out to be, but where is your Dwarf as is? He was a most uncommon small man with a most uncommon large Ed; and what he had inside that Ed, nobody never knowed but himself: even supposia himself to have ever took stock of it, which it would have been a stiff job for even him to do. The kindest little man as never growed! Spirited, but not proud. When he travelled with the Spotted Baby-though he knowed himself to be a nat'ral Dwarf, and knowed the Baby's spots to be put upon him artificial, he nursed that Baby like a mother. You never heard him give a ill-name to a Giant. He did allow himself to break out into strong, language respectin the Fat Lady from Norfolk; but that was an affair of the'art; and when a man's'art has been trifled with by a lady, and the preference giv to a Indian, he ain't master of his actions. 54 A HOUSE TO LET. He was always in love, of conrse; every human nat'ral phenomenon is. And he was always in love with a large woman; I never knowed the Dwarf as could be got to love a small one. Which helps to keep'em the Curiosities they are. One sing'ler idea he had in that Ed of his, which must have meant something, or it wouldn't have been there. It was always his opinion that he was entitled to property. He never would put his name to anything. He had been taught to write, by the young man without arms, who got his living with his toes, (quite a writing-master he was, and taught scores in the line), but Chops would have starved to death, afore he'd have gained a bit of bread by putting his hand to a paper. This is the more curious to bear in mind, because HE had no property, nor hope of property, except his house and a sarser. When I say his house, I mean the box, painted and got up outside like a reg'lar six-roomer, that he used to creep into, with a diamond ring (or quite as good to look at) on his forefinger, and ring a little bell out of what the Public believed to be his Drawing-room winder. And when I say a sarser, I mean a Chaney sarser in which he made a collection for himself at the end of every Entertainment. His cue for that, he took from me: "Ladies and gentlemen, the little man will now walk three times round the Cairawan, and retire behAhd the curtain." When he said anything important, in private life, he mostly wound it up with this form of words, and they were generally the last things he said to me at night afore he went to bed. He had what I consider a fine mind-a poetic mind. His ideas respecting his property, never come upon him so strong as when he sat upon a barrel-organ and had the handle turned. Arter the wibranion had run through him a little time, he would screech out, " Toby, I feel my property coming-grind away I I'm counting my guineas by thousands, Toby-grind away! Toby, I shall be a man of fortun I I feel the Mint a jingling in me, Toby, and I'm swelling out into the Bank of England I" Such is the influence of music on a poetic mind. Not that he was partial to any other music but a barrel-organ; on the contrairy, hated it. He had a kind of everlasting grudge agin the Public: which is a thing you may notice in many phenomenoms that get their living out of it. What riled him most in the nater of his occupation was, that it kept him out of Society. He was continiwally sayin, "Toby, my ambition is, to go into Society. The curse of my position before the Public, is, that it keeps me hout of Society. This don't signify to a low beast of an Indian; he an't formed for Society. This don't signify to a Spotted Baby; he an't formed for Society.-I am." Nobody never could make out what Chops done with his money. He had a good salary, down on the drum every Saturday as the day come round, besides having the run of his teeth-and he was a Woodpecker to eat-but all Dwarfs are. The sarser was a little income, bringing him in GOING INTO SOCIETY. 55 so many halfpence that he'd carry'em, for a week together, tied up in a pocket handkercher. And yet he never had money. And it couldn't be the Fat Lady from Norfolk, as was once supposed; because it stands to reason that when you have a animosity towards a Indian which makes you grind your teeth at him to his face, and which can hardly hold you from Goosing, him audible when he's going through his War-Dance-it stands to reason you wouldn't under them circumstances deprive yourself to support that Indian in the lap of luxury. Most unexpected, the mystery come out one day at Egham Races. The Public was shy of bein pulled in, and Chops was ringin his little bell out of his drawing-room winder, and was snarlin to me over his shoulder as he kneeled down with his legs out at the back-door-for he couldn't be shoved into his house without kneeling down, and the premises wouldn't accommodate his legs-was snarlin, " Here's a precious Public for you; why the Devil don't they tumble up?" when a man in the crowd holds up a carrier-pigeon, and cries out, "If there's any person here as has got a ticket, the Lottery's just drawed, and the number as has came up foi the great prize is three, seven, forty-two! Three, seven, forty-two!" 1 was givin the man to the Furies myself, for calling off the Public's attention-for the Public will turn away, at any time, to look at anything in preference to the thing showed'em; and if you doubt it, get'em together for any indiwidual purpose on the face of the earth, and send only two people in late, and see if the whole company an't far more interested in takin particular notice of them two than of you-I say, I wasn't best pleased with the man for callin out, and, wasn't blessin him in my own mind, when I see Chops's little bell fly out of winder at a old lady, and he gets up and kicks his box over, exposin the whole secret, and he catches hold of the calves of my legs and he says to me, " Carry me into the wan, Toby, and throw a pail of water over me or I'm a dead man, for I've come into my property!'" Twelve thousand odd hundred pound, was Chops's winnins. He had bought a half-ticket for the twenty-five thousand prize, and it had come up. The first use he made of his property, was, to offer to fight the Wild Indian for five hundred pound a side, him with a poisoned darnin-needle and the Indian with a club; but the Indian bein in want of backers to that amount, it went no further. Arter he had been mad for a week-in a state of mind, in short, in which, if I had let him sit on the organ for only two minutes, I believe he would have bust-but we kep the organ from him-Mr. Chops come round, and behaved liberal and beautiful to all. He then sent for a young man he knowed, as had a wery genteel appearance and was a Bonnet at a gaming-booth (most respectable brought up, father havin been imminent in the livery stable line, but unfort'nate in a commercial crisis, through paintin a old grey, ginger-bay, and sellin him with a Pedigree), i58 A HOUSE TO IET. and Mr. Chops said to this Bonnet, who said his name was Normandy, which it wasn't: "Normandy, I'm a goin' into Society. Will you go with me?" Says Normandy: " Do I understand you, Mr. Chops, to hintimnate that the'ole of the expenses of that move will be borne by yourself?" "Correct," says Mr. Chops. "And you shall have a Princely allowance, too." The Bonnet lifted Mr. Chops upon a chair, to shake hands with him, and replied in poetry, with his eyes seemingly full of tears: "My boat is on the shore, And my bark is on the sea, And I do not ask for more, But I'll Go;-along with thee." They went into Society, in a chay and four greys with silk jackets. They took lodgings in Pall Mall, London, and they blazed away. In consequence of a note that was brought to Bartlemy Fair in the autumn of next year by a servant, most wonderful got up in milk-white cords and tops, I cleaned myself and went to Pall Mall, one evenin appinted. The gentlemen was at their wine arter dinner, and Mlr. Chops's eyes was more fixed in that Ed of his than I thought good for him. There was three of'em (in company, I mean), and I knowed the third well. When last met, he had on a white Roman shirt, and a bishop's-mitre covered with Leopard-skin, and played the clario-net all wrong, in a band at a Wild Beast Show. This gent took on not to know me, and Mr. Chops said: "Gentlemen, this is a old friend of former days:" and Normandy looked at me through a eye-glass, and said, " Magsman, glad to see you I"-which I'll take my oath he wasn't. Mr. Chops, to git him convenient to the table, had his chair on a throne (much of the form of George the Fourth's in the canvass), but he hardly appeared to me to be King there in any other pint of view, for his two gentlemen ordered about like Emperors. They was all dressed like May-Day-gorgeous i —and as to Wine, they swam in all sorts. I made the round of the bottles, first separate (to say I had done it), and then mixed'em all together (to say I had done it), and then tried two of'em as half-and-half, and then t'other two. Altogether, I passed a pleasin evenin, but with a tendency to feel muddled, until I considered it good manners to get up and say, "Mr. Chops, the best of friends must part, I thank you for the wariety of foreign drains you have stood so'ansome, I looks towards you in red wine, and I takes my leave.' Mr. Chops replied, "If you'll just hitch me out of this over your right arm, Magsman, and carry me down stairs, I'll see you out." I said I couldn't think of such a thing, but he would have it, so I lifted him off his throne. GOING INTO SOCIETY. 57 Hie smelt strong of Maideary, and I couldn't help thinking as I carried him down that it was like a large bottle full of wine, with a rayther ugly stopper, a good deal out of proportion. When I set him on the door-mat in the hall, he kept me close to him by holding on to my coat-collar, and he whispers: "I an't'appy, Magsman." "What's on your mind, Mr. Chops?" "They don't use me well. They an't grateful to me. They putsme on the mantelpiece when I won't have in more Champagne-wine, and they locks me in the sideboard when I won't give up my property." "Get rid of'em, Mr. Chops." "I can't. We're in Society together, and what would Society say?" "Come out of Society," says I. "I can't. You don't know what you're talking about. When you have once gone into Society, you mustn't come out of it." "Then. if you'll excuse the freedom, Mr. Chops," were my remark, shaking my head grave, "I think it's a pity you ever went in." Mr. Chops shook that deep Ed of his, to a surprisin extent, and slapped it half a dozen times with his hand, and with more Wice than I thought were in him. Then, he says, " You're a good feller, but you don't understand. Good night,, go along. Magsman, the little man will now walk three times round the Cairawan, and retire behind the curtain." The last I see of him on that occasion was his tryin,-on the extremest werge of insensibility, to climb up the stairs, one by one, with his hands and knees. They'd have been much too steep for him, if he had been sober; but he wouldn't be helped. It warn't long after that, that I read in the newspaper of Mr. Chops's being presented at court. It was printed, "It will be recollected "-and I've noticed in my life, that it is sure to be printed that it will be recollected, whenever it won't-" that Mr. Chops is the individual of small stature, whose brilliant success in the last State Lottery attracted so much attention." Well, I says to myself, Such is life I He has been and done it in earnest at last I He has astonished George the Fourth I (On account of which, I had that canvass new-painted, him with a bag of money in his hand, a presentin it to George the Fourth, and a lady in Ostrich Feathers fallin in love with him in a bag-wig, sword, and buckles correct.) I took the House as is the subject of present inquiries - though not the honor of bein acquainted-and I run Magsman's Amusements in it thirteen months-sometimes one thing, sometimes another, sometimes nothin particular,. but always all the canvasses outside. One night, when we had played the last company out, which was a shy company through its raining Heavens hard, I was takin a pipe in the one pair back along with the young man with the toes, which I had taken on for' a month 58 A HOUSE TO LET. (though he never drawed-except on paper), and I heard a kickin at the street door. "IHalloa! " I says to the young man, "what's up!" He rubs his eyebrows with his toes, and he says, "I can't imagine, Mr. Magsman"- which he never could imagine nothin, and was monotonous company. The noise not leavin off, I laid down my pipe, and I took up a candle, and I went down and opened the door. I looked out into the street; but nothin could I see, and nothin was I aware of, until I turned round quick, because some creetur run between m)r legs into the passage. There was Mr. Chops! "Magsman," he says, "take me, on the hold terms, and you've got me; if it's done, say done I" I was all of a maze, but I said, " Done, sir." "Done to your done, and double done I " says he. " Have you got a bit of supper in the house? " Bearin in mind them sparklin warieties of foreign drains as we'd guzzled away at in Pall Mall, I was ashamed to offer him cold sassages and ginand-water; but he took'em both and took'em free; havin a chair for his table, and sittin down at it on a stool, like hold times. I, all of a maze all the while. It was arter he had made a clean sweep of the sassages (beef, and to the best of my calculations two pound and a quarter), that the wisdom as was in that little man, began to come out of him like prespiration. "Magsman," he says, "look upon me I You see afore you, One as has both gone into Society and come out." " Oh! You are out of it, Mr. Chops? How did you get out, sir?" " SOLD OUT!" says he. You never saw the like of the wisdom as his Ed expressed, when he made use of them two words. "My friend Magsman, I'll impart to you a discovery I've made. It's wallable; it's cost twelve thousand five hundred pound; it may do you good in life.-The secret of this matter is, that it ain't so much that a person goes into Society, as that Society goes into a person." Not exactly keeping up with his meanin, I shook my head, put on a deep look, and said, "You're right there, Mr. Chops " "Magsman," he says, twitchin me by the leg, " Society has gone into me, to the tune of every penny of my property." I felt that I went pale, and though nat'rally a bold speaker, I couldn't hardly say, "Where's Normandy?" "Bolted. With the plate," said Mr. Chops. "And t'other one?".-meaning him. as formerly wore the bishop's mitre. " Bolted. With the jewels," said Mr. Chops. I sat down and looked at him, and he stood up and looked at me. "Magsman," he says, and he seemed to myself to get wiser as he got GOING INTO SOCIETY. 59 hoarser; "Society, taken in the lump, is all dwarfs. At the court of Saint James's, they was all a doin my hold bisness —all a goin three times round the Cairawan, in the hold Court suits and properties. Elsewheres, they was most of'em ringin their little bells out of make-believes. Everywheres, the sarser was a goin-round, Magsman, the sarser is the uniwersal Institution I " I perceived, you understand, that he was soured by his misfortuns, and I felt for Mr. Chops. "As to the Fat Ladies," says he, giving his Ed a tremendious one agin the wall, " there's lots of them in Society, and worse than the original. Hers was a outrage upon Taste-simply a outrage upon Tasteawaknin contempt-carryin its own punishment in the form of a Indian!" Here he giv himself another tremendious one. " But theirs Magsman, theirs is mercenary outrages. Lay in Cashmeer shawls, buy bracelets, strew'em and a lot of'ansome fans and things about your rooms, let it be known that you give away like water to all as come to admire, and the Fat Ladies that don't exhibit for so much down upon the drum, will come from all the pints of the compass to flock about you, whatever you are. They'll drill holes in your'art, Magsman, like a Cullender. And when you've no more left to give, they'll laugh at you to your face, and leave you to have your bones picked dry by Wulturs, like the dead Wild Ass of the Prairies that you deserve to be I" Here he giv himself the most tremendious one of all, and dropped. I thought he was gone. His Ed was so heavy, and he knocked it so hard, and he fell so stoney, and the sassagerial disturbance in him must have been so immense, that I thought he was gone, But, he soon come round with care, and he sat up on the floor, and he said to me, with wisdom comin out of his eyes, if ever it come: " Magsman I The most material difference between the two states of existence through which your unhappy friend had passed;" he reached out his poor little hand, and his tears dropped down on the moustachio which it was a credit to him to have done his best to grow, but it is not in mortals to command success,-" the difference is this. When I was out of Society, I was paid light for being seen. When I went into Society, I paid heavy for being seen I prefer the former, even if I wasn't forced upon it. Give me out through the trumpet, in the hold way tomorrow. " Arter that, he slid into the line again as easy as if he had been iled all over. But, the organ was kep from him, and no allusions was ever made, when a company was in, to his property. He got wiser every day; his views of Society and the Public was luminous, bewilderin, awful; and his Ed got bigger and bigger as his Wisdom expanded it. He took well, and pulled'em in most excellent for nine weeks. At the expiration of that period, when his Ed was a sight, he expressed one 60 A HEOUSE TO LET. evenin, the last Company havin been turned out, and the door shut, a wish to have a little music. " Mr. Chops," I said (I never dropped the " Mr." with him; the world might do it, but not me); "Mr. Chops, are you sure as you are in a state of mind and body to sit upon the organ?" His answer was this: "Toby, when next met with on the tramp, I forgive her and the Indian. And I am." It was with fear and trembling that I began to turn the handle; but he sat like a lamb. It will be my belief to my dying day, that I see his Ed expand as he sat; you may therefore judge how great his thoughts was. He sat out all the changes, and then he come off. "Toby," he says, with a quiet smile, " the little man will now walk three times round the Cairawan, and retire behind the curtain." When we called him in the morning, we found him gone into a much better Society than mine or Pall Mall's I giv Mr. Chops as comfortable a funeral as lay in my power, followed myself as Chief, and had the George the Fourth canvass carried first, in the form of a banner. But, the House was so dismal arterwards, that I giv it up, and took to the Wan again. "I don't triumph," said Jarber, folding up the second manuscript, and looking hard at Trottle. "I don't triumph over this worthy crea. ture. I merely ask him if he is satisfied now?" "How can he be anything else?" I said, answering for Trottle, who sat obstinately silent. "This time, Jarber, you have not only read us a delightfully amusing story, but you have also answered the question about the House. Of course it stands empty now. Who would think of taking it after it had been turned into a caravan?" I looked at Trottle, as I said those last words, and Jarber waved his hand indulgently in the same direction. "Let this excellent person speak," said Jarber. "You were about to say, my good man?""I only wished to ask, sir," said Trottle, doggedly, "if you could kindly oblige me with a date or two, in connection with that last story?" "A date! " repeated Jarber. " What does the man want with dates I" "I should be glad to know, with great respect," persisted Trottlb, "if the person named Magsman was the last tenant who lived in the House. It's my opinion —if I may be excused for giving it —that he most decidedly was not." With those words, Trottle made a low bow, and quietly left the room. There is no denying that Jarber, when we were left together, looked sadly discomposed. He had evidently forgotten to inquire about dates; and, in spite of his magnificent talk about his series of discoveries, it was quite as plain that the two stories he had just read, had really and GOING INTO SOCIETY. 61 truly exhausted his present stock. I thought myself bound, in common gratitude, to help him out of his embarrassment by a timely suggestion, So I proposed that he should come to tea again, on the next Monday evening, the thirteenth, and should make such inquiries in the meantime, as might enable him to dispose triumphantly of Trottle's objection. He gallantly kissed my hand, made a neat little speech of acknowledgment, and took his leave. For the rest of the week I would not encourage Trottle by allowing him to refer to the House at all. I suspected he was making his own inquiries about dates, but I put no questions to him. On Monday evening, the thirteenth, that dear unfortunate Jarber came, punctual to the appointed time. He looked so terribly harassed, that he was really quite a spectacle of feebleness and fatigue. I saw, at a glance, that the question of dates had gone against him, that Mr. Magsman had not been the last tenant of the House, and that the reason of its emptiness was still to seek. "What I have gone through," said Jarber, "words are not eloquent enough to tell. Oh, Sophonisba, I have begun another series of discoveries I Accept the last two as stories laid on your shrine; and wait to blame me for le'aving your curiosity unappeased, until you have heard Number Three." Number Three looked like a very short manuscript, and I said as much. Jarber explained to me that we were to have some poetry this time. In the course of his investigations he had stepped into the Circulating Library, to seek for information on the one important subject. All the Library-people knew about the House was, that a female relative of the last tenant as they believed, had, just after the tenant left, sent a little manuscript poem to them which she described as referring to events that had actually passed in the House; and which she wanted the proprietor of the Library to publish. She had written no address on her letter; and the proprietor bad kept the manuscript ready to be given back to her (the publishing of poems not being in his line) when she might call for it. She had never called for it; and the poem had been lent to Jarber, at his express request, to read to me. Before he began, I rang the bell for Trottle; being determined to have him present at the new reading, as a wholesome check on his obstinacy. To my surprise, Peggy answered the bell, and told me that Trottle had stepped out, without saying where. I instantly felt the strongest possible conviction that he was at his old tricks: and that his stepping out in the evening, without leave, meant-Philandering. Controlling myself on my visitor's account, I dismissed Peggy, stifled my indignation, and prepared, as politely as might be, to listen to Jarber. CHAPTER IV. rPREE EVENINGS IN THE HOUS, NUMBER ONE. I. YES, it looked dark and dreary That long and narrow street: Only the sound of the rain, And the tramp of passing feet, The duller glow of the fire, And gathering mists of night To mark how slow and weary The long day's cheerless flight I II. Watching the sullen fire, Hearing the dreary rain, Drop after drop, run down On the darkening window-pane: Chill was the heart of Bertha, Chkill as that winter day,For the star of her life had risen Only to fade away. III. The voice that had"been so strong To bid the snare depart, The true and earnest will, And the calm and steadfast heart, Were now weigh'd down by sorrow, Were quivering now with pain; The clear path now seem'd clouded And all her grief in vain. IV. Duty, Right, Truth, who promised To help and save their own, Seem'd spreading wide their pinions To leave her there alone. So, turning from the Present To well-known days of yore, She called on them to strengthen And guard her soul once more. (62) THREE EVENINGS IN THE HOUSE. 63 V. She thought how in her girlhood Her life was given away, The solemn promise spoken She kept so well to-day; How to her brother Herbert She had been help and guide, And how his artist-nature On her calm strength relied. VI. How through life's fret and turmoil The passion and fire of art In him was soothed and quicken'd By her true sister's heart; How future hopes had always Been for his sake alone; And now, what strange new feeling' Possess'd her as its own? VII. Her home; each flower that breathed there The wind's sigh, soft and low; Each trembling spray of ivy; The river's murmuring flow; The shadow of the forest; Sunset, or twilight dim; Dear as they were, were dearer By leavilg them for him. VITI. And each year as it found her In the dull, feverish town, Saw self still more forgotten, And selfish care kept down By the calm joy of evening That brought him to her side, To warn him with wise counsel, Or praise with tender pride. IX. Her heart, her life, her future, Her genius, only meant Another thing to give him, And be therewith content. To-day, what words had stirr'd her, Her soul could not forget? What dream had fill'd her spirit With strange and wild regret? 64 A HOUSE TO LET, x. To leave him for another: Could it indeed be so? Could it have caused such anguish To bid this vision go? Was this her faith? Was Herbert The second in her heart? Did it need all this struggle To bid a dream depart? XI. And yet, within her spirit A far-off land was seen; A home, which might have held her, A love, which might have been; And Life: not the mere being Of daily ebb and flow, But Life itself had claim'd her, And she had let it go I XII. Within her heart there echo'd Again the well-known tone That promised this bright future, And ask'd her for its own: Then words of sorrow, broken By half-reproachful pain; And then a farewell, spoken In words of cold disdain. XIII. Where now was the stern purpose That nerved her soul so long? Whence came the words she utter'd, So hard, so cold, so strong? What right had she to banish A hope that God had given? Why must she choose earth's portion, And turn aside from Heaven? XIV. To-day I Was it this morning? If this long, fearful strife Was but the work of hours, What would be years of life? Why did a cruel Heaven For such great suffering call? And why-O, still more cruel IMust her own words do all? THREE EVENINGS IN THE HOUSE. xv. Did she repent? 0 Sorrow I Why do we linger still To take thy loving message, And do thy gentle will? See, her tears fall more slowly; The passionate murmurs cease, And back upon her spirit Flow strength, and love, and peace. XVI. The fire burns more brightly, The rain has passed away, Herbert will see no shadow Upon his home to-day; Only that Bertha greets him With doubly tender care, Kissing a fonder blessing Down on his golden hair. NUMBER TWO. The studio is deserted, Palette and brush laid by, The sketch rests on the easel, The paint is scarcely dry; And Silence-who seems always Within her depths to bear The next sound that will utterNow holds a dumb despair. So Bertha feels it: listening With breathless, stony fear, Waiting the dreadful summons Each minute brings more near: When the young life, now ebbing, Shall fail, and pass away Into that mighty shadow Who shrouds the house to-day. m. But why-when the sick chamber Is on the upper floorWhy dares not Bertha enter Within the close-shut door? If he-her all-her Brother Lies dying in that gloom, What strange mysterious power Has sent her from the room t se8 A HOUSE TO LET. IV. It is not one week's anguish That can have changed her so; Joy has not died here lately, Struck down by one quick blow; But cruel months have needed Their long relentless chain, To teach that shrinking manner Of helpless, hopeless pain. V. The struggle was scarce over Last Christmas Eve had brought: The fibres still were quivering Of the one wounded thought, When Herbert-who, unconscious, Had guessed no inward strifeBade her, in pride and pleasure, Welcome his fair young wife. VI. Bade her rejoice, and smiling, Although his eyes were dim, Thank'd God he thus could pay her The care she gave to him. This fresh bright life would bring her A new and joyous fateO Bertha, check the murmur That cries, Too late I too late I VII. Too late I Could she have known it A few short weeks before, That his life was completed, And needing hers no more, She might-. 0 sad repining I What "might have been," forget; "It was not," should suffice us To stifle vain regret. VIII. He needed her no longer, Each day it grew more plain; First with a startled wonder, Then with a wondering pain. Love: why, his wife best gave it; Comfort: durst Bertha speak f Counsel: when quick resentment Flush'd on the young wife's cheek. THREE EVENINGS IN THE HOUSE. IX. No more long talks by firelight Of childish times long past, And dreams of future greatness Which he must reach at last; Dreams, where her purer instinct With truth unerring told Where was the worthless gilding, And where refinbd gold. x. Slowly, but surely ever, Dora's poor jealous pride, Which she call'd love for Herbert, Drove Bertha from his side; And, spite of nervous effort To share their alter'd life, She felt a check to Herbert, A burden to his wife. XI. This was the least; for Bertha Fear'd, dreaded, knew at length, How much his nature owed her Of truth, and power, and strength; And watch'd the daily failing Of all his nobler part: Low aims, weak purpose, telling In lower, weaker art. XII. And now, when he is dying, The last words she could hear Must not be hers, but given The bride of one short year. The last care is another's; The last prayer must not be The one they learnt together Beside their mother's knee. XIII. Summon'd at last: she kisses The clay-cold stiffening hand; And, reading pleading efforts To make her understand, Answers, with solemn promise, In clear but trembling tone, To Dora's life henceforward She will devote her own. ~8 8, EA HOUSE TO LET. XI 7. Now all is over. Bertha Dares not remain to weep, But soothes the frightened Dora Into a sobbing sleep. The poor weak child will need her 0, who can dare complain, When God sends a new Duty To comfort each new Pain t NUMBER THREE. I. THna House is all deserted In the dim evening gloom, Only one figure passes Slowly from room to room; And, pausing at each doorway, Seems gathering up again Within her heart the relies Of bygone joy and pain. II. There is an earnest longing In those who onward gaze, Looking with weary patience Towards the coming days. There is a deeper longing, More sad, more strong, more keen Those know it who look backward, And yearn for what has been. III, At every hearth she pauses, Touches each well-known chair; Gazes from every window, Lingers on every stair. What have these months brought Bertha Now one more year is past? This Christmas Eve shall tell us, The third one and the last. IV. The wilful, wayward Dora, In those first weeks of grief, Could seek and find in Bertha Strength, soothing, and relief. And Bertha-last sad comfort True woman-heart can takeHad something still to suffer And do for Herbert's sake. THREE EVENINGS IN THE HOUSE. 6B V. Spring, with her western breezes, From Indian islands bore To Bertha news that Leonard Would seek his home once more. What was it-joy, or sorrow? What were they-hopes, or fears? That flushed her cheeks with crimson. And fill'd her eyes with tears? VI. He came. And who so kindly Could ask and hear her tell Herbert's last hours; for Leonard Had known and loved him well. Daily he came; and Bertha, Poor weary heart, at length, Weigh'd down by other's weakness, Could rest upon his strength. VIi. Yet not the voice of Leonard Could her true care beguile, That turn'd to watch, rejoicing, Dora's reviving smile. So, from that little household The worst gloom pass'd away, The one bright hour of evening Lit up the livelong day. VIII. Days passed. The golden summer In sudden, heat bore down In blue, bright, glowing sweetness -Upon the scorching town. And sights and sounds of country Came in the warm soft tune Sung by the honey'd breezes Borne on the wings of June. IX. One twilight hour, but earlier Than usual, Bertha thought She knew the fresh, sweet fragrance Of flowers that Leonard brought; Through open'd doors and windows It stole up through the gloom, And with appealing sweetness Drew Bertha from her room. A HOUSE TO LET. x. Yes, he was there; and pausing Just near the open'd door, To check her heart's quick beating, She heard-and paused still more — His low voice-Dora's answersHis pleading-Yes, she knew The tone-the word-the accents: She once had heard them too. XI. "Would Bertha blame her?" Leonardo' Low, tender answer came: " Bertha was far too noble To think or dream of blame." " And was he sure he loved her?" "Yes, with the one love given, Once in a lifetime only, With one soul and one heaven I" XII. Then came a plaintive murmur"Dora had once been told That he and Bertha" "Dearest. Bertha is far too cold To love; and I, my Dora, If once I fancied so, It was a brief delusion, And over,-long ago." MXII. Between the Past and Present, On that bleak moment's height, She stood. As some lost traveller By a quick flash of light Seeing a gulf before him, With dizzy, sick despair, Reels to clutch backward, but to find A deeper chasm there. XIV, The twilight grew still darker, The fragrant flowers more sweet, The stars shone out in heaven, The lamps gleam'd down the street; And hours pass'd in dreaming Over their new found fate, Ere they could think of wondering Why Bertha wfs so late. THREE EVENINGS IN THE /HOUSE. 71 XV. She came, and calmly listen'd; In vain thev strove to trace If Herbert's memory shadow'd In grief upon her face. No blame, no wonder show'd there, No feeling could be told; Her voice was not less steady, *Her manner not more cold. 2XVI~. They could not hear the anguish That broke in,words of pain Through that calm summer midnight,"' My Herbert-mine again 1" Yes, they have once been parted, But this day shall restore The long lost one: she claims him: "My Herbert-mine once more I" XVLI. Now Christmas Eve returning, Saw Bertha stand beside The altar, greeting Dora, Again a smiling bride; And now the gloomy evening Sees Bertha pale and worn, Leaving the house for ever, To wander out forlorn. xvmi. Forlorn —nay, not so. Anguish Shall do its work at length; Her soul, pass'd through the fire, Shall gain still purer strength. Somewhere there waits for Bertha An earnest noble part; And, meanwhile,tod is with her,God, and her own true heart I I could warmly and sincerely praise the little poem, when Jarber had done reading it; but I could not say that it tendpd in any degree to. wards clearing up the mystery of the empty House. Whether it was the absence of the irritating influence of Trottle, or whether it was simply fatigue, I cannot say, but Jarber did not strike me, that evening, as being in his usual spirits. And though he declared that he was not in the least daunted by his want of success thus far, and that he was resolutely determined to make more discoveries, he spoke in a languid absent manner, and shortly afterwards took his leave at rather an early hour. 72 A HOUSE TO LET. When Trottle came back, and when I indignantly taxed him with Philandering, he not only denied the imputation, but asserted that he had been employed on my service, and, in consideration of that, boldly asked for leave of absence for two days, and for a morning to himself afterwards, to complete the business, in which he solemnly declared that I was interested. In remembrance of his long and faithful servieeto me, I did violence to myself, and granted his request. And he, on.his side, engaged to explain himself to my satisfaction, in a week's time, on Monday evening, the twentieth. A day or two before, I sent to Jarber's lodgings to ask him to drop in to tea. His landlady sent back an apology for him that made my hair stand on end. His feet were in hot water; his head was in a flannel petticoat; a green shade was over his eyes; the rheumatism was in his legs; and a mustard poultice was on his chest. He was also a little feverish, and rather distracted in his mind about Manchester Marriages, a Dwarf, and Three Evenings, or Evening Parties-his landlady was not sure which -in an empty house, with the Water Rate unpaid. Under these distressing circumstances, I was necessarily left alone with Trottle. His promised explanation began, like Jarber's discoveries, with tne reading of a written paper. The only difference was that Trottle introduced his manuscript under the name of a Report. CHAPTER V. TROTTLE'S REPORT. THE curious events related in these #pages would, many of them, most likely never have happened, if a person named Trottle had not presumed, contrary to his usual custom, to think for himself. The subject on which the person in question had ventured, for the first time in his life, to form an opinion purely and entirely his own, was one which had already excited the interest of his respected mistress in a very extraordinary degree. Or, to put it in plainer terms still, the subject was no other than the mystery of the empty House. Feeling no sort of objection to set a success of his own, if possible, aside, with a failure of Mr. Jarber's, Trottle made up his mind, one Monday evening, to try what he could do, on his own account, towards clearing up the mystery of the empty House. Carefully dismissing from his mind all nonsensical notions of former tenants and their histories, and TROTTLE'S REPORT. 73 keeping the one point in view steadily before him, he started to reach it in the shortest way, by walking straight up to the House, and bringing himself face to face with the first person in it who opened the door to him. It was getting towards dark, on Monday evening, the thirteenth of the month, when Trottle first set foot on the steps of the House. When he knocked at the door, he knew nothing of the matter which he was about to investigate, except that the landlord was an elderly widower of good fortune, and that his name was Forley. A small beginning enough for a man to start from, certainly I On dropping the knocker, his first proceeding was to look down cautiously out of the corner of his right eye, for any results which might show themselves at the kitchen-window. There appeared at it immediately the figure of a woman, who looked up inquisitively at the stranger on the steps, left the window in a hurry, and came back to it with an open letter in her hand, which she held up to the fading light. After looking over the letter hastily for a moment or so, the woman disappeared once more. Trottle next heard footsteps shuffling and scraping along the bare hall of the house. On a sudden they ceased, and the sound of two voicesa shrill persuading voice and a gruff resisting voice-confusedly reached his ears. After a while the voices left off speaking-a chain was undone, a bolt drawn back-the door opened-and Trottle stood face to face with two persons, a woman in advance, and a man behind her, leaning back flat against the wall. "Wish you good evening, sir," says the woman, in such a sudden way, and in such a cracked voice, that is was quite startling to hear her. " Chilly weather, ain't it, sir? Please to walk in. You come from good Mr. Forley, don't you, sir?" " Don't you, sir?" chimes in the man hoarsely, making a sort of gruff echo of himself, and chuckling after it, as if he thought he had made a joke. If Trottle had said, "No," the door would have been probably closed in his face. Therefore, he took circumstances as he found them, and boldly ran all the risk, whatever it might be, of saying, " Yes." " Quite right, sir," says the woman. "Good Mir. Forley's letter told us his particular friend, would be here to represent him, at dusk, on Monday the thirteenth-or, if not on Monday the thirteenth, then on Monday the twentieth, at the same time without fail. And here you are on Monday the thirteenth, ain't you, sir? Mr. Forley's particular friend, and dressed all in black —quite right, sir! Please to step into the diningroom-it's always kep scoured and clean against Mr. Forley comes here -and I'll fetch a candle in half a minute. It gets so dark in the evenings, now, you hardly know where you are, do you, sir? And how is 74 A HOUSE TO LET. good Mr. Forley in his health? We trust he is better, Benjamin, don't we? We are so sorry not to see him as usual, Benjamin, ain't we? In half a minute, sir, if you don't mind waiting, I'll be back with the candle. Come along, Benjamin." "Come along, Benjamin," chimes in the echo, and chuckles again as if he thought he had made another joke. Left alone in the empty front-parlor, Trottle wondered what was coming next, as he heard the shuffling, scraping footsteps go slowly down the kitchen-stairs. The front-door had been carefully chained up and bolted behind him on his entrance; and there was not the least chance of his being able to open it to effect his escape, without betraying himself oy making a noise. Not being of the Jarber sort, luckily for himself, he took his situation quietly, as he found it, and turned his time, while alone, to account, by summing up in his own mind the few particulars which he had discovered thus far. He had found out, first, that Mr. Forley was in the habit of visiting the house regularly. Second, that Mr. Forley, being prevented by illness from seeing the people put in charge as usual, had appointed a friend to represent him; and had written to say so. Third, that the friend had a choice of two Mondays, at a particular time in the evening, for doing his errand; and that Trottle had accidentally hit on this time, and on the first of the Mondays, for beginning his own investigations. Fourth, that the similarity between Trottle's black dress, as servant out of livery, and the dress of the messenger (whoever he might be), had helped the error by which Trottle was profiting. So far, so good..But what was the messenger's errand? and what chance was there that he might not come up and knock at the door himself, from minute to minute, on that very evening? While Trottle was turning over this last consideration in his mind, he heard the shuffling footsteps come up the stairs again, with'a flash of candle-light going before them. He waited for the woman's coming in with some little anxiety; for the twilight had been too dim on his getting into the house to allow him to see either her face or the man's face at all clearly. The woman came in first, with the man she called Benjamin at her heels, and set the candle on the mantel-piece. Trottle takes leave to describe her as an offensively-cheerful old woman, awfully lean and wiry, and sharp all over, at eyes, nose, and chin-devilishly brisk, smiling, and restless, with a dirty false front and a dirty black cap, and short fidgetty arms, and long hooked finger-nails-an unnaturally lusty old woman, who walked with a spring in her wicked old feet, and spoke with a smirk on her wicked old face-the sort of old woman (as Trottle thinks) who ought to have lived in the dark ages, and been ducked in a horse-pond, instead TRIOTTLE'S REPORT. ]5 of flourishing in the nineteenth century, and taking charge of a Christian house. "You'll please to excuse my son Benjamin, won't you, sir?" says this witch without a broomstick, pointing to the man behind her, propped against the bare wall of the dining-room, exactly as he had been propped against the bare wall of the passage. "He's got his inside dreadful bad again, has my son Benjamin. And he wont go to bed, and he will follow me about the house, up-stairs and down-stairs, and in my lady's chamber, as the song says, you know. It's his indisges. tion, poor dear, that sours his temper and makes him so agravating — and indisgestion is a wearing thing to the best of us, ain't it, sir?" "Ain't it, sir?" chimes in aggravating Benjamin, winking at the candlelight like an owl at the sunshine. Trottle examined the man curiously, while his horrid old mother wrs speaking of him. He found "My son Benjamin" to be little and lean, and buttoned-up slovenly in a frowsy old great-coat that fell down to his ragged carpet-slippers. His eyes were very watery, his cheeks very palei and his lips very red. His breathing was so uncommonly loud, that it sounded almost like a snore. His head rolled helplessly in the monstrous big collar of his great-coat; and his limp, lazy hands pottered about the wall on either side of him, as if they were groping for an imaginary bottle. In plain English, the complaint of "My son Benjamin" was drunkenness of the stupid, pig-headed, sottish kind. Drawing this conclusion easily enough, after a moment's observation of the man, Trottle found himself, nevertheless, keeping his eyes fixed much longer than was necessary on the ugly drunken face rolling about in the monstrous big coat collar, and looking at it with a curiosity that he could hardly account for at first. Was there something familiar to him in the man's features? He turned away from them for an instant, and then turned back to him again. After that second look, the notion forced itself into his mind, that he had certainly seen a face somewhere, of which that sot's face appeared like a kind of slovenly copy." Where?" thinks he to himself, " where did I last see the man whom this aggravating Benjamin, here, so very strongly reminds me of?" It was no time, just then-with the cheerful old woman's eyes searching him all over, and the cheerful old woman's tongue talking to him, nineteen to the dozen-for Trottle to be ransacking his memory for small matters that had got into wrong corners of it. He put by in his mind that very curious circumstance respecting Benjamin's faGe, to be taken up again when a fit opportunity offered itself; and kept his wits about him in prime order for present necessities. "You wouldn't like to go down into the kitchen, would you?" says the witch without the broomstick, as familiar as if she had been Trottle's mother, instead of Benjamin's "' There's a bit of fire in the grate, and 16 A HOUSE TO ILET. the sink in the back kitchen don't smell to matter much to-day, and it's uncommon chilly up here when a person's flesh don't hardly cover a person's bones. But you don't look cold, sir, do you? And then, why Lord bless my soul, our little bit of business is so very, very little, it's hardly worth while to go down-stairs about it, after all. Quite a game at business, ain't it, sir? Give-and-take-that's what I call it-give-andtake!" With that, her wicked ol,' eyes settled hungrily on the region round about Trottle's waistcoat-pocket, and she began to chuckle like her son, holding out one of her skinny hands, and tapping cheerfully in the palm with the knuckles of the other. Aggravating Benjamin, seeing what she was about, roused up a little, chuckled an-d tapped in imitation of her, got an idea of his own into his muddled head all of a sudden, and bolted it out charitably for the benefit of Trottle. " I say I" says Benjamin, settling himself against the wall and nodding his head viciously at his cheerful old mother. "I say I Look out I She'll skin you!" Assisted by these signs and warnings, Trottle found no difficulty in understanding that the business referred to was the giving and taking of money, and that he was expected to be the giver. It was at this stage of the proceedings that he first felt decidedly uncomfortable, and more than half inclined to wish he was on the street-side of the house-door again. He was still cudgelling his brains for an excuse to save his pocket, when the silence was suddenly interrupted by a sound in the upper part of the house. It was not at all loud-it was a quiet, still, scraping sound-so faint that it could hardly have reached the quickest ears, except in an empty house. " Do you hear that, Benjamin?" says the old woman. "He's at it again, even in the dark, ain't he? P'raps you'd like to see him, sir?" says she, turning on Trott]e, and poking her grinning face close to him. " Only name it; only say if you'd like to see him before we do our little bit of business-and I'll show good Forlev's friend upstairs, just as if he was good Mr. Forley himself. My legs are all right, whatever Benjamin's may be. I get younger and younger, and stronger and stronger, and iollier and jollier, every day-that's what I do I Don't mind the stairs on my account, sir, if you'd like to see him." "Him?" Trottle wondered whether " him" meant a man, or a boy, or a domestic animal of the male species. Whatever it meant, here was a chance of putting off that uncomfortable give-and-take business, and, better still, a chance perhaps of tnding out one of the secrets of the mysterious House. Trottle's spirits began to rise again, and he said "Yes," directly, with the confidence of a man who knew all about it. TROTTLE'S REPORT. 77 Benjamin's mother took the candle at once, and lighted Trottle briskly,'m the stairs; and Benjamin himself tried to follow as usual. But getting up several flights of stairs, even helped by the bannisters, was more, with his particular complaint, than he seemed to feel himself inclined to venture on. He sat down obstinately on the lowest step, with his head against the wall, and the tails of his big great coat spreading out magnificently on the stairs behind and above him, like a dirty imitation of a court lady's train. "Don't sit there, dear," says his affectionate mother, stopping to snuff the candle on the first landing. "I shall sit here," says Benjamin, aggravating to the last, "till the milk comes in the morning." The cheerful old woman went on nimbly up the stairs to the first-floor, and Trottle followed, with his eyes and ears wide open. He had seen nothing out of the common in the front parlor, or up the staircase, so far. The House was dirty and dreary and close-smelling-but there was nothing about it to excite the least curiosity, except the faint scraping sound, which was now beginning to get a little clearer-though still not at all loud-as Trottle followed his leader up the stairs to the second floor. Nothing on the second-floor landing, but cobwebs above and bits of broken plaster below, cracked off from the ceiling. Benjamin's mother was not a bit out of breath, and lolled all ready to go to the top of the Monument if necessary. The faint scraping sound had got a little clearer still; but Trottle was no nearer to guessing what it might be, than when he first heard it in the parlor down stairs. On the third, and last floor, there were two doors; one, which was shut, leading into the front garret; and one, which was ajar, leading into the back garret. There was a loft in the ceiling above the landing; but the cobwebs all over it vouched sufficiently for its not having been opened for some little time. The scraping noise, plainer than ever here, sounded on the other side of the back garret door; and, to Trottle's great relief, that was precisely the door which the cheerful old woman now pushed open. Trottle followed her in; and, for once in his life, at any rate, was struck dumb with amazement, at the sight which the inside of the room revealed to him. The garret was absolutely empty of every thing in the shape of furniture. It must have been used, at one time or other, by somebody engaged in a profession or a trade which required for the practice of it a great deal of light; for the one window in the room, which looked out on a wide open space at'the back of the house, was three or four times as large, every way, as a garret-window usually is. Close under this window, kneeling on the bare boards with his face to the door, there appeared, of all the creatures in the world to see alone at such a place and at such.a 7s8 A HOUSE TO LET. time, a mere mite of a child-a little, lonely, wizen, strangely-clad boy, who could not at the most, have been more than five years old. -ie had a greasy old blue shawl crossed over his breast, and rolled up to keep the'ends from the ground, into a great big lump on his back. A strip of something which looked likee the remains of a woman's flannel petticoat, showed itself under the shawl, and below that again, a pair of rusty black stockings, worlds too large for him, covered his legs and his shoeless feet. A pair of old clumsy muffetees, which had worked themselves up on his little frail red arms to the elbows, and a big cotton nightcap that bad dropped down to his very eyebrows, finished off the strange dress which the poor little man seemed not half big enough to fill out, and not near strong enough to walk about in. But there was something to see even more extraordinary than the clothes the child was swaddled up in, and that was the game which he was playing at, all by himself; and which, moreover, explained in the most unexpected manner the faint scraping noise that had found its way down-stairs, through the half-opened door, in the silence of the empty house. It has been mentioned that the child was on his knees in the garret, when Trottle first saw him. lie was not saying his prayers, and not crouching down in terror at being alone in the dark. He was, odd and unaccountable as it may appear, doi4r nothing more or less than playing at a charwoman's or housemaid's business of scouring the floor. Both his little hands had tight hold of a mangy old blacking-brush, with hardly any bristles left in it, which he was rubbing backwards and forwards on the boards, as gravely and steadily as if he had been at scouring-work for years, and had got a large family to keep by it. The coming-in of Trottle and the old woman did not startle or disturb him in the least. He just looked up for a minute at the candle, with a pair of very bright, sharp eyes, and then went on with his work again, as if nothing had happened. On one side of him was a battered pint saucepan without a handle, which was his make-believe pail; and on the'other a morsel of slate-colored cotton rag, which stood for his flannel to wipe up with. After scrubbing bravely for a minute or two, he took the bit of rag, and mopped up, and then squeezed make-believe water out into his make-believe pail, as grave as any judge that ever sat on a Bench. By the time he thought he had got the floor pretty dry, he raised himself upright on his knees, and blew out a good long breath, and set his little red arms akimbo, and nodded at Trottle. "There!" says the child, knitting his little downy eyebrows into a frown. " Drat the dirt I I've cleaned up. Where's my beer?" Benjamin's mother chuckled till Trottle thought she would have choked herself.. "Lord ha' mercy on us I" says she, "just hear the imp. You would TROTTLE'S REPORT. 79 never think he was only five years old, would you, sir? Please to tell good Mr. Forley you saw him going on as nicely as ever, playing at being mne scouring the parlor floor, and calling for my beer afterwards That's his regular game, morning, noon, and night,-he's never tired of it. Only look how snug we've been and dressed him. That's my shawl a-keepin' his precious little body warm, and Benjamin's nightcap a-keepin' his precious little head warm, and Benjamin's stockings, drawed over his trowsers, a-keepin' his precious little legs warm. He's snug and happy, if ever a imp was yet.'Where's my beer?'-say it again, little dear, say it again!" If Trottle had seen the boy, with a light and a fire in the room, clothed like other children, and playing naturally with a top or a, box of soldiers, or a bouncing big India-rubber ball; he might have been as cheerful under the circumstances as Benjamin's mother herself. But seeing the child reduced (as he could not help suspecting) for want of proper toys and proper child's company, to take up with the mocking of an old woman at her scouring-work for something to stand in the place of a game, Trottle, though not a family man, nevertheless felt the sight before him to be, in its way, one of the saddest and most pitiable that he had ever witnessed. "Why, my man," says he, "you're the boldest little chap in all England. You don't seem a bit afraid of being up here all by yourself in the dark.I'' " The big winder," says the child, pointing up to it, "sees in the dark; and I see with the big winder." He stops a bit, and gets up on his legs, and looks hard at Benjamin's mother. " I'm a good'un," says he, " ain't I? I save candle." Trottle wondered what else the forlorn little creature had been brought up to do without, besides candlelight; and risked putting a question as to whether he ever got a run in the open air to cheer him up a bit. 0, yes, he had a run now and then, out of doors, (to say nothing of his runs about the house,) the lively little cricket, —a run according to good Mr. Forley'sistructions, which were followed out carefully, as good Mr. Forley's friend would be glad to hear, to the very letter. As Trottle could only have made one reply to this, namely, that good Mr. Forley's instructions were, in his opinion, the instructions of an infernal scamp; and as he felt that such an answer would naturally prove the death-blow to all further discoveries on his part, he gulped down his feelings before they got too many for him, and held his tongue, and looked round toward the window again to see what the forlorn little boy was going to amuse himself with next. The child had gathered up his blacking brush and bit of rag, and had put them into the old tin saucepan; and was now working his way, as well as his clothes would let him, with his make-believe pail hugged up 80 A HOUSE TO LET. in his arms, towards a door of communication which led from the back to the front garret. "I say," says he, looking round sharply over his shoulder, " what are you two stopping here for? I'm going to bed now-and so I tell you I" "With that, he opened the door, and walked into the front room. Seeing Trottle take a step or two to follow him, Benjamin's mother opened her wicked old eyes in a state of great astonishment. "Mercy on us I" says she, " haven't you seen enough of him yet?"'' No," says Trottle. "I should like to see him go to bed." Benjamin's mother burst into such a fit of chuckling that the loose extinguisher in the candlestick clattered again with the shaking of her hand. To think of good Mr. Forley's friend taking ten times more trouble about the imp than good Mr. Forley himself I Such a joke as that, Benjamin's mother had not often met with in the course of her life, and she begged to be excused if she took the liberty of having a laugh at it. Leaving her to laugh as much as she pleased, and coming to a pretty positive conclusion, after what he had just heard that Mr. Forley's interest in the child was not of the fondest possible, kind Trottle walked into the front room, and Benjamin's mother, enjoyed herself immensely, followed with the candle. There were two pieces of furniture in the front garret. One, an old stool of the sort that is used to stand a cask of beer on; and the other a great big ricketty straddling old tr ckle bedstead. In the middle of this bedstead, surrounded by a dim brown waste of sacking, was a kind of little island of poor bedding-an old bolster, with nearly all the feathers out of it, doubled in three for a pillow; a mere shred of patchwork counterpane, and a blanket; and under that, and peeping out a little on either side beyond the loose clothes, two faded chair cushions of horsehair, laid along together for a sort of makeshift mattress. When Trottle got into the room, the lonely little boy had scrambled up on the bedstead with the help of the beer-stool, and was kneeling on the outer rim of sacking with the shred of counterpane in his hands, just making ready to tuck it in for himself under the chair cushions. *t "I'll tuck you up, my man," says Trottle. "Jump into bed, and let me try." " I mean to tuck myself up," says the poor forlorn child, " and I don't mean to jump. I mean to crawl, I do-and so I tell you I" With that he set to work, tucking in the clothes tight all down the sides of the cushions, but leaving them open at the foot. Then getting up on his knees, and looking hard at Trottle, as much as to say, "What do you mean by offering to help such a handy little chap as me?" he began to untie the big shawl for himself, and did it, too, in less than half a minute. Then, doubling the shawl up loose over the foot of the bed, he says, " I say, look here," and ducks under the clothes, head first, worming TROTTLE'S REPORT. 81 his way up and up softly, under the blanket and counterpane, till Trottle saw the top of the large nightcap slowly peep out on the bolster. This over-sized head-gear of the child's had so shoved itself down in the course of his journey to the pillow, under the clothes, that when he got his face fairly out on the bolster, he was all nightcap down to his mouth. He soon freed himself, however, from this slight encumbrance by turning the ends of the cap up gravely to their old place over his eyebrowslooked at Trottle —said, "Snug, ain't it? Good-bye I"-popped his face under the clothes again-and left nothing to be seen of him, but the empty peak of the big nightcap standing up sturdily on end in the middle *of the bolster. "What a young limb it is, ain't it?" says Benjamin's mother, giving Trottle a cheerful dig with her elbow. "Come on! you won't see no more of him to-night I""And so I tell you!" sings out a shrill, little voice under the bedclothes, chiming in with a playful finish to the old woman's last words. If Trottle had not been, by this time, positively resolved to follow the wicked secret which accident had mixed him up with, through all its turnings and windings, right on to the end, he would have probably snatched the boy up then and there, and carried him off from his garret prison, bedclothes and all. As it was, he put a strong check on himself, kept his eye on future possibilities, and allowed Benjamin's mother to lead him down-stairs again. " Mind them top bannisters," says she, as Trottle laid his hand on them. "They are as rotten as medlars every one of'em." "When people come to see the premises," says Trottle, trying to feel his way a little farther into the mystery of the House, "you don't bring many of them up here, do you?" "Bless your heart alive i" says she, " nobody ever comes now. The outside of the house is quite enough to warn them off. More's the pity, as I say. It used to keep me in spirits, staggering'em all, one after another, with the frightful high rent-specially the women, drat'em.'What's the rent of this house?' —' Hundred and twenty pound a-year 1' -' Hundred and twenty? why, there ain't a house in the street as lets for more than eighty?'-' Likely enough, ma'am; other landlords may lower their rents if they please; but this here landlord sticks to his rights, and means to have as much for his house as his father had before him I'-' But the neighborhood's gone off since then!'-' Hundred and twenty pound, ma'am.'-' The landlord must be mad' —' Hundred and twenty pound, ma'am.'-' Open the door, you impertinent woman!' Lord! what a happiness it was to see'em bounce out, with that awful rent a-ringing in their ears all down the street!" She stopped on the second-floor landing to treat herself to another chuckle, while Trottle privately posted up in his memory what he had 82 A HOUSE TO LET. just heard. " Two points made out," he thought to himself: " the house is kept empty on purpose, and the way it's done is to ask a rent that nobody will pay." "Ah, deary me I" says Benjamin's mother, changing the sfibject on a sudden, and twisting back with a horrid, greedy quickness to those awkward money-matters which she had broached down in the parlor. " What we've done, one way and another for Mr. Forley, it isn't in words to tell I That nice little bit of business of ours ought to be a bigger bit of business, considering the trouble we take, Benjamin and me, to make the imp up-stairs as happy as the day is long. If good Mr. Forley would only please to think a little more of what a deal he owes to Benjamin and me- " " That's just it," says Trottle, catching her up short in desperation, and seeing his way, by the help of those last words of hers, to slipping cleverly through her fingers. " What should you say, if I told you that Mr. Forley was nothing like so far from thinking about that little matter as you fancy? You would be disappointed now, if I told you that I had come to-day without the money?"-(her lank, old jaw fell, and her villainous old eyes glared, in a perfect state of panic, at that!) )- "But what should you say, if I told you that Mr. Forley was only waiting for my report, to send me here next Monday at dusk, with a bigger bit of business for us two to do together than ever you think for? What should you say to that?" The old wretch came so near to Trottle, before she answered, and jammed him up confidentially'o close into the corner of the landing, that his throat, in a manner, rose at her. " Can you count it off, do you think, on more than that?" says she, holding up her four skinny fingers and her long crooked thumb, all of a tremble, right before his face. " What do you say to two hands, instead of one? " says he, pushing past her, and getting down-stairs as fast as he could. What she said Trottle thinks it best not to report, seeing that the old hypocrite, getting next door to light-headed at the golden prospect before her, took such liberties with unearthly names and persons which ought never to have approached her lips, and rained down such an awful shower of blessings on Trottle's head, that his hair almost stood on end to hear her. He went on down-stairs as fast as his feet would carry him, till he was brought up all standing, as the sailors say, on the last flight, by aggravating Benjamin, lying right across the stair, and fallen off, as might have been expected, into a heavy drunken sleep. The sight of him instantly reminded Trottle of the curious half likeness which he had already detected between the face of Benjamin and the face of another man, whom he had seen at a past time in very different circumstances. He determined, before leaving the House, to have one more LET AT LAST. 83 look at the wretched muddled creature; and accordingly shook him up smartly, and propped him against the staircase wall, before his mother could interfere. "Leave him to me; I'll freshen him up," says Trottle to the old woman, looking hard in Benjamin's face, while he spoke. The fright and surprise of being suddenly woke up, seemed, for about a quarter of a minute, to sober the creature. When he first opened his eyes, there was a new look in them for a moment, which struck home to Trottle's memory as quick and as clear as a flash of light. The old maudlin sleepy expression came back again in another instant, and blurred out all further signs and tokens of the past. But Trottle had seen enough in the moment before it came; and he troubled Benjamin's face with no more inquiries. "Next Monday, at dusk," says he, cutting short some more of the old woman's palaver about Benjamin's indigestion. "I've got no more time cc spare, ma'am, to-night: please to let me out." With a few last blessings, a few last dutiful messages to good Mr. Forley, and a few last friendly hints not to forget next Monday at dusk, Trottle contrived to struggle through the sickening business of leavetaking; to get the door opened; and to find himself, to his own indescribable relief, once more on the outer side of the House To Let. CHAPTER VI. LET AT LAST. "THERE, ma'am I" said Trottle, folding up the manuscript from which he had been reading, and setting it down with a smart tap of triumph on the table. "May I venture to ask what you think of that plain statement, as a guess on my part (and not on Mr. Jarber's) at the riddle of the empty House?" For a minute or two I was unable to say a word. When I recovered a little, my first question referred to the poor forlorn little lay. "To-day is Monday the twentieth," I said. "Surely you have not let a whole week go by without trying to find out something more?" "Except at bed-time and meals, ma'am," answered Trottle, "I have not let an hour go by. Please to understand that I have only come to an end of what I have written, and not to an end of what I have done. I wrote down those first particulars, ma'am, because they are of great importance, and also because I was determined to come forward with my 84 A HOUSE TO LET. written documents, seeing that Mr. Jarber chose to come forward, in the first instance, with his. I am now ready to go on with the second part of my story as shortly and plainly as possible, by word of mouth. The first thing I must clear up, if you please, is the matter of Mr. Forley's family affairs. I have heard you speak of them, ma'am, at various times; and I have understood that Mr. Forley had two children only by his deceased wife, both daughters. The eldest daughter married to her father's entire satisfaction, one Mr. Bayne, a rich man, holding a high governiment situation in Canada. She is now living there with her husband, and her only child, a little girl of eight or nine years old. Right so far, I think, ma'am?" "Quite right," I said. " The second daughter," Trottle went on, "and Mr. Forley's favorite, set her father's wishes and the opinions of the world at flat defiance, by'running away with a man of low origin-a mate of a merchant vessel, named Kirkland. Mr. Forley not only never forgave that marriage, but vowed that he would visit the scandal of it heavily in the future on hus.:band and wife. Both escaped his vengeance, whatever he meant it to be. The husband was drowned on his first voyage after his marriage, and tIr -wife:died in child-bed. Right again, I believe, ma'am?" "Again quite right." "Having got the family matter all right, we will now go back, ma'am, to me and my doings. Last Monday, I asked you for leave of absence for two days; I employed the time in clearing up the matter of Benjamin's face. Last Saturday I was out of the way when you wanted me. I played truant, ma'am, on that occasion, in company with a friend of mine, who is managing clerk in a lawyer's office; and we both spent the morning at Doctors' Commons over the last will and testament of Mr. Forley's father. Leaving the will business for a moment, please to follow me first if you have no objection, into the ugly subject of Benjamin's face. About six or seven years ago (thanks to your kindness) I had a week's holida) with some friends of mine who live in the town of Pendlebury. One of those friends (the only one now left in the place) kept a chemist's shop, and in that shop I was made acquainted with one of the two doctors in the town, named Barsham. This Barsham was a first-rate surgeon, and might have got to the top of his profession, if he had not been a first-rate blackguard. As it was, he both drank and gambled; nobody would have any thing to do with him in Pendlebury; and, at the time when I was made known to him in the chemist's shop, the other doctor, Mr. Dix, who was not to be compared with him for surgical skill, but who was a respectable man, had got all the practice; and Barsham and his old mother were living together in such a condition of utter poverty, that it was a marvel tb everybody how they kept out of the parish workhouse." "4 Benjamin and Benjamin's mother I" LET AT LAST. 85 "Exactly, ma'am. Last Thursday morning (thanks to your kindness, again) I went to Pendlebury to my friend the chemist, to ask a few questions about Barsham and his mother. I was told that they had both left the town about five years since. When I inquired into the circumstances, some strange particulars came out in the course of the chemist's answer. You know I have no doubt, ma'am, that poor Mrs. Kirkland was confined while her husband was at sea, in lodgings at a village called Flatfield, and that she died and was buried there.' But what you may not know is, that Flatfield is only three miles from Pendlebury; that the doctor who attended on Mrs. Kirkland was Barsham; that the nurse who took care of her was Barsham's mother; and that the person who called them both in, was Mr. Forley. Whether his daughter wrote to him, or whether he heard of it in some other way, I don't know; but he was with her (though he had sworn never to see her again when she married) a month or more before her confinement, and was backwards and forwards a good deal between Flatfield and Pendlebury. How he managed matters with the Barshams cannot at present be discovered; but it is a fact that he contrived to keep the drunken doctor sober, to everybody's amazement. It is a fact that Barsham went to the poor woman with all his wits about him. It is a fact that he and his mother came back from Flatfield after Mrs. Kirkland's death, packed up what few things.,they had, and left the town mysteriously by night. And, lastly, it is also a fact that the other doctor, Mr. Dix, was not called in to help, till a week after the birth and burial of the child, when the mother was sinking from exhaustion-exhaustion (to give the vagabond, Barsham, his due) not produced, in Mr. Dix's opinion, by improper medical treat. ment, but by the bodily weakness of the poor woman herself-" "Burial of the child?" I interrupted, trembling all over. "Trottle I you spoke that word' burial,' in a very strange way-you are fixing your eyes on me now with a very strange look-" Trottle learned over close to me, and pointed through the window to the empty house. "The child's death is registered, at Pendlebury," he said, "on Barsham's certificate, under the head of Male Infant, Still-Born. The child's coffin lies in the mother's grave, in Flatfield churchyard. The child himself-as surely as I live and breathe, is living and breathing nowa castaway and a prisoner in that villainous house 1" I sank back in my chair. "It's guess-work, so far, but it is borne in on my mind, for all that, as truth. Rouse yourself, ma'am, and think a little. The last I hear of Barsham, he is attending Mr. Forley's disobedient daughter. The next I see of Barsham, he is in Mr. Forley's house, trusted with a secret. He and his mother leave Pendlebury suddenly and suspiciously five years back; and he and his mother have got a child of five years old, hidden A HO1USE TO LET. away in the house. Waitl please to wait-I have not done yet. The will left by Mr. Forley's'father, strengthens the suspicion. The friend I took with me to Doctors' Commons, made himself master of the.contents of that will; and when he had done so, I put these two questions to him.'Can Mr Forley leave his money at his own discretion to anybody he pleases?''No,' my friend says,'his father has left him with only a life interest in it.''Suppose one of Mr. Forley's married daughters has a girl, and the other a boy, how would the money go?'' It would all go,' my friend says,'to the boy, and it would be charged with the payment of a certain annual income to his female cousin.. After her death it would go back to the male descendant, and to his heirs.' Consider that, ma'am I The child of the daughter whom Mr. Forley hates, whose husband has been snatched away from his vengeance by death, takes his whole property in defiance of him; and the child of the daughter whom he loves, is left a pensioner on her low-born-boy-cousin for life I There was goodtoo good reason-why that child of Mrs. Kirkland's should be registered still-born. And if, as I believe,,the register is founded on a false certificate, there is better, still better reason, why the existence of the child should be hidden, and all trace of his parentage blotted out, in the garret of that empty house." He stopped, and pointed for the second time to the dim, dust-covered garret-windows opposite. As he did so, I was startled —a very Slight matter sufficed to frighten me now-by a knock at the door'of the room in which we were sitting. My maid came in, with a letter in her hand. I took it from her. The mourning card, which was all the envelope enclosed, dropped from my hands. George Forley was no more. He had departed this life three days since, on the evening of Friday. "Did our last chance of discovering the truth," I asked, "rest with him? Has it died with his death?" "Courage, ma'am! I think not. Our chance rests on our power to make Barsham and his mother confess; and Mr. Forley's death, by leaving them helpless, seems to put that power into our hands. With your permission, I will not wait till dusk to-day, as I at first intended, but will make sure of these two people at once. With a policeman in plain clothes to watch: the house, in case they try to leave it; with this card to vouch for the fact of Mr. Forley's death; and with a bold acknowledgment on my part of having got possession of their secret, and of being ready to- use it against them in case of need, I think there is little doubt of bringing Barsham and his mother to terms. In case I find it impossible to get back here before dusk, please to sit near the window, ma'am, and watch the house, a little before they light the streetlamps. If you see the front-door open and close again, will you be good LET AT LAST. 87 enough to put on your bonnet, and come across to me immediately? Mr. Forley's death may, or may not, prevent his messenger from coming as arranged. But, if the person does come, it is of importance that you, as a relative of Mr. Forley's, should be present to see him, and to have that proper influence over him which I cannot pretend to exercise." The only words I could say to Trottle as he opened the door and left me, were words charging him to take care that no harm happened to the poor forlorn little boy. Left alone, I drew my chair to the window, and looked out with a beating heart at the guilty house. I waited and waited through what appeared to me to be an endless time, until I heard the wheels of a cab stop at the end of the street. I looked in that direction, and saw Trottle get out of the cab alone, walk up to the House, and knock at the door. He was let in by Barsham's mother. A minute or two later, a decentlydressed man sauntered past the house, looked up at it for a moment, and sauntered on to the corner of the street close by. Here he leant against the post, and lighted a cigar, and stopped there smoking in an idle way, but keeping his face always turned in the direction of the house-door. I waited and waited still. I waited and waited, with my eyes riveted to the door of the house. At last I thought I saw it open in the dusk, and then felt sure I heard it shut again softly. Though I tried hard to compose myself, I trembled so that I was obliged to call for Peggy to help me on with my bonnet and cloak, and was forced to take her arm to lean on, in crossing the street. Trottle opened the door to us, before we could knock. Peggy went back, and I went in. He had a lighted candle in his hand. "It has happened ma'am, as I thought it would," he whispered, leading me into the bare, comfortless, empty parlor. "Barsham and his mother have consulted their own interests, and have come to terms. My guesswork is guess-work no longer. It is now what I felt it was-Truth!" Something strange to' me-something which women who are mothers must often know-trembled suddenly in my heart, and brought the warm tears of my youthful days thronging back into my eyes. I took my faithful old servant by the hand, and asked him to let me see Mrs. Kirkland's child, for his mother's sake. "If you desire it, ma'am," said Trottle, with a gentleness of manner that I had never noticed in him before. "But pray don't think me wanting in duty and right feeling, if I beg you to try and wait a little. You are agitated already, and a first meeting with the child will not help tomake you so calm, as you would wish to be, if Mr. Forley's messenger comes. The little boy is safe up-stairs. Pray think first of trying to compose yourself for a meeting with a stranger; and believe me you shall not leave the house afterwards without the child." I felt that Trottle was right, and sat down as patiertly as I could in h 88 A HOUSE TO LET. chair he had thoughtfully placed ready for me. I was so horrified at the discovery of my own relation's wickedness, that when Trottle proposed to make me acquainted with the confession wrung from Barsham and his mother, I begged him to spare me all details, and only to tell me what was necessary about George Forley. "All that can be said for Mir. Forley, ma'am, is, that he was just scrupulous enough to hide the child's existence and blot out its parentage here, instead of consenting, at the first, to its death, or afterwards, when the boy grew up, to turning him adrift, absolutely helpless in the world. The fiaud has been managed, ma'am, with the cunning of Satan himself. Mr. Forley had the hold over the Barshams, that they had helped him in his villainy, and that they were dependent on him for the bread they eat. He brought them up to London to keep them securely under his own eye. He put them into this empty house (taking it out of the agent's hands previously, on pretence that he meant to manage the letting of it himself); and by keeping the house empty, made it the surest of all hiding places for the child. Here, Mr. Forley could come, whenever he pleased, to see that the poor lonely child was not absolutely starved; sure that his visits would only appear like looking after his own property. Here the child was to have been trained to believe himself Barsham's child, till he should be old enough to be provided for in some situation, as low and as poor as Mr. Forley's uneasy conscience would let him pick out. He may have thought of' atonement on his death-bed; but not before —I m onlj too certain of it-not before I " A low, double knock startled us. "The messenger " said Trottle, under his breath. He went out instantly to answer the knock; and returned, leading in a respectablelooking elderly man, dressed like Trottle, all in black, with a white cravat, but otherwise not at all resembling him. " I am afraid I hare made some mistake," said the stranger. Trottle, considerately taking the office of explanation into his own hands, assured the gentleman that there was no mistake; mentioned to him who I was; and asked him if he had not come on business connected with the late Mr. Forley. Looking greatly astonished, the gentleman answered, "Yes.'" There was an awkward moment of silence, after that. The stranger seemed to be not only startled and amazed; but rather distrustful and fearful of committing himself as well. Noticing this, I thought it best to request Trottle to put an end to further embarrassments, by stating all particulars truthfully, as he bhad stated them to me; and I begged the gentleman to listen patiently for the late Mr. Forley's sake. He bowed to me very respectfully, and said he was prepared to listen with the greatest interest. It was evident to me- and, I could see, to Trottle also-that we were not dealing, to say the least, with a dishonest man. 4 LET AT LAST. 89 "Before I o0er any opinion on what I have heard," he said, earnlestly; and anxiously, after Trottle had done, "I must be allowed, in justice to myself, to explain my own apparent connection with this very strange and very shocking business. I was the confidential legal adviser of the/ late Mr. Forley, and I am left his executor. Rather more tllh'ln a,- fortnight back, when Mr. Forley was confined to his room by illness, he sent for me, and charged me to call and pay a certain sum of money here to a man and woman whom I, should find taking charge of the hlouse. He said he had reasons for wishing the affair to be kept sec!iet. He begged me so to arrange my engagements that I could call at this place either on Monday last, or to-day, at dusk: and he mentioned that he would write to warn the people of my coming, without mentioning my name (Dalcott is my name) as he did not wish to expose me to any future importunities on the part of the man and woman. I need hardly tell you that this commission struck me as being a strange one; but, in my position with Mr. Forley, I had no resource but to accept it without asking questions, or to break off my long and friendly connection with my client. I chose the first alternative. Business prevented me from doing my errand on Monday list,-and if I am here to-day, notwithstanding Mr. Forley's unexpected death, it is emphatically because I understood nothing of the matter, on knocking at this door; and therefore felt myself bound, as executor, to clear it up. That, on my word of honor, is the whole truth, so far as I am personally concerned." "I feel quite sure of it, sir," I answered. "You mentioned Mr. Forley's death, just now, as unexpected. May I inquire if you were present, and if he has left any last instructions?" "'Three hours before Mr. Forley's death," said Mr. Dalcott, "his medical attendant left him apparently in a fair way of recovery. The change for the worst took place so suddenly, and was accompanied by such severe suffering, as entirely to prevent him from communicating his last wishes to any one. When I reached his house, he was insensible. I have since examined his papers. Not one of them refer to the present time, or to the serious matter which now occupies us. In the absence of instructions, I must act cautiously on what you have told me; but I will be rigidly fair and just at the same time. The first thing to be done," he continued, addressing himself to Trottle, "is to hear what the man and woman, down-stairs, have to say. If you can supply me with writingmaterials, I will take their declarations separately on the spot, in your presence, and in the presence of the policeman who is watching the house. To-morrow I will send copies of those declarations, acdmupanied by a full statement of the case, to Mr. and Mrs. Bayne in Canada, (both of whom know me well as the late Mr. Forley's legal adviser); and I will suspend all proceedings, on my part, until I hear from them, or from their so 90 A HOUSE TO LET. licitor in London. In the present posture of affairs this is all I can safely do.'" We could do no less than agree with him, and thank him for his frank and honest manner of meeting us. It was arranged that I should send over the writing materials from my lodgings; and, to my unutterable joy and relief, it was also readily acknowledged that the poor little orphan boy could find no fitter refuge than my old arms were longing to offer him, and no safer protection for the night than my roof could give. Trottle hastened away up-stairs, as actively as if he had been a young man, to fetch the child down. And he brought him down to me without another moment of delay, and I went on my knees before the poor little Mite, and embraced him, and asked him if he would go with me to where I lived? He held me away for a moment, and his wan, shrewd little eyes looked sharp at me. Then he clung close to me all at once, and said: " I'm a-going along with you, I am-and so I tell you I" For inspiring the poor neglected child with this trust in my old self, I thanked Heaven, then, with all my heart and soul, and I thank it now I! I bundled the poor darling up in my own cloak, and I carried him in my own arms across the road. Peggy was lost in speechless amazement to behold me trudging out of breath up-stairs, with a strange pair of poor little legs under my arms; but, she began to cry over the child the moment she saw him, like a sensible woman as she always was, and she still cried her eyes out over him in a comfortable manner, when he at last lay fast asleep, tucked up by my hands in Trottle's bed. "And Trottle, bless you, my dear man," said I, kissing his hand, as he looked on: "the forlorn baby came to this refuge through you, and he will help you on your way to Heaven." Trottle answered that I was his dear mistress, and immediately went and put his head out at an open window on the landing, and looked into the back street for a quarter of an hour. That very night, as I sat thinking of the poor child, and of another poor child who is never to be thought about enough at Christmas-time, the idea came into my mind which I have lived to execute, and in the realization of which I am the happiest of women this day. " The executor will sell that House, Trottle?" said I. "Not a doubt of it, ma'am, if he can find a purchaser." "I'll buy it." I have often seen Trottle pleased; but I never saw him so perfectly enchanted as he was when I confided to him, which I did, then and there the purpose that I had in view. To make short of a long story —and what story would not be long, coming from the lips of an old woman, unless it was made short by main force! —I bought the house. Mrs. Bayne had her father's blood in her; LET AT LAST. 91 she evaded the opportunity of forgiving and generous reparation that was offered her, and disowned the child; but I was prepared for that, and, loved him all the more for having no one in the world to look to, but me. I am getting into a flurry by being over-pleased, and I dare say I am as incoherent as need be. I bought the house, and I altered it from the basement to the roof, and I turned it into a Hospital for Sick Children. Never mind by what degrees my little adopted boy came to the knowledge of all the sights and sounds in the streets, so familiar to other children and so strange to him; never mind by what degrees he came to be pretty, and childish, and winning, and companionable, and to have pictures and toys about him, and suitable playmates. As I write, I look across the road to my Hospital, and there is the darling (who has gone over to play) nodding at me out of one of the once lonely windows, with his dear ciudoby face backed up by Trottle's waistcoat as he lifts my pet'for "Grandma" to see. Many an Eve i bo. in the House now, but it is never in solitude, never in neglect. Many an Eye I see in that House now, that is more and more radiant every day with the light of returning health. As my precious darling has changed beyond description for the brighter and the better, so do the not less precious darlings of poor women change in that House every day in the year. For which I humbly thank that Gracious Being whom the restorer of the Widow's son and of the Rulerfs daughter, instructed all mankind to call their Father. THE PIERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. CHAPTER 1 THE ISLAND OF SILVER-STORE. IT was in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and forty. four, that I, Gill Davis to command, His Mark, having then the honor to be a private in the Royal Marines, stood a-leaning over the bulwarks of the armed sloop Christopher Columbus, in the South American waters,off the Mosquito shore. My lady remarks to me, before I go any further, that there is no such Christian name as Gill, and that her confident opinion is, that the name!~given to me in the baptism wherein I was made, &c., was Gilbert. She is certain to be right, but I never heard of it. I was a foundling child, picked up,somewhere or another, and I always understood my Christian name to be Gill. It is true that I was called Gills when employed at Snorridge Bottom betwixt Chatham and Maidstone, to frighten\ birds; but that had nothing to do with the baptism wherein I was made, &c., and wherein a number of things were promised for me by somebody who let me alone ever afterward as to performing any of them, and who, I consider, must have been the Beadle. Such name of Gills was entirely owing to my cheeks, or gills, which at that time of my life were of a raspy description. My lady stops me again, before I go any further, by laughing exactly in her old way and waving the feather of her pen at me. That action on her part calls to my mind as I look at her hand with the rings on it-. Welll I won't I To be sure it will come in, in its own place. But it's always strange to me, noticing the quiet hand, and noticing it (as I have (19) 20 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. done, you know, so many times) a-fondling children and grandchildren asleep, to think that when blood and honor were up-there I I won't I not at present!-Scratch it out. She wont scratch it out, and quite honorable; because we have made an, understanding that every thing is to be taken down, and that nothing that is once taken down shall be scratched out. I have the great misfortune not to be able to read and write, and I am speaking my true and faithful account of those Adventures, and my lady is writing it word for word. I say, there I was, a-leaning over the bulwarks of the sloop Christopher Columbus, in the South American waters off the Mosquito shore; a subject of his Gracious Majesty King George of England, and a private in the Royal marines. In those climates, you don't want to do much. I was doing nothing. I was thinking of the shepherd (my father, I wonder?) on the hill-sides by Snorridge Bottom, with a long staff, and with a rough white coat in all weathers all the year round, who used to let me lie in a corner of his hut by night, and who used to let me go about with him and his sheep by day when I could get nothing else to do, and who used to give me so little of his victuals and so much of his staff, that I ran away from himwhich was what he wanted all- along, I expect-to be knocked about the world in preference to Snorridge Bottom. I had been knocked about the word for nine-and-twenty years in all, when I stood looking along those bright blue South American waters. Looking after the shepherd I may say. Watching him in a half-waking dream, with my eyes half-shut as he and his flock of sheep, and his two dogs, seemed to move away from the ship's side, far away over the blue water, and go right down into the sky. " It's rising out of the water, steady," a voice said close to me. I had been thinking on so, that it like woke me with a start, though it was no stranger voice than the voice of Harry Charker, my own comrade. " What's rising out of the water, steady?" I asked of my comrade. "What?" says he. "The Island." "Oh I The Island!" says I, turning my eyes toward it. "True. I forgot the Island." "Forgot the port you're going to? That's odd, an't it?" "It is odd," says4I. "And odd," he said, slowly considering with himself, " an't even. Is it, Gill?" He had always a remark just like that to make, and seldom another. As soon as he had brought a thing round to what it was not, he was satisfied. He was one of the best of men, and in a certain sort of a way, one with the least to say for himself. I qualify it, because, besides being able to read and write like a quarter-master, he had always one most excellent THE ISLAND OF SILVER STORE. 21 idea iu his mind. That was, Duty. Upon my soul, I don't believe, though I admire learning beyond every thing, that he could have got a better idea out of all the books in the world, if he had learnt them every word, and been the cleverest of scholars. My comrade and I had been quartered in Jamaica, and from there we had been drafted off to the British settlement of Belize, lying away West and North of the Mosquito coast. At Belize there had been great alarm of one cruel gang of pirates (there were always more pirates than enough in those Carribean Seas), and as they got the better of our English cruisers by running into out-of-the way creeks and shallows, and taking the land whenever they were hotly pressed, the governor of Belize had received orders from home to keep a sharp look-out for them along shore. Now, there was an armed sloop came once a-year from Port Royal, Jamaica, to the Island, laden with all manner of necessaries to eat and to drink and to wear, and to use in various ways; and it was aboard that sloop which had touched at Belize, that I was a-standing, leaning over the bulwarks. The Island was occupied by a very small English colony. It had been given the name of Silver-Store. The reason of its being so called, was that the English colony owned and worked a silver mine over on the main land in Honduras, and used this island as a safe and convenient place to store their silver in, until it was annually fetched away by the slo'op. It was brought down from the mine to the coast on the backs of mules attended by friendly Indians and guarded by white men; from thence it was conveyed over to Silver-Store, when the weather was fair, in the canoes of that country; from Silverl-Store it was carried to Jamaica by the armed sloop once a-year, as I have already mentioned; from Jamaica it went, of course, all over the world. How I came to be aboard the armed sloop, is easily told, Four-andtwenty marines under command of a lieutenant-that officer's name was Linderwood-had been told off at Belize, to proceed to Silver-Store, in aid of boats and seamen stationed there for the chace of the pirates. The island was considered a good post of observation against the pirates, both by land and sea; neither the pirate ship nor yet her boats had been seen by any of us, but they had been so much heard of, that the reinforcement was sent. Of that party I was one. It included a corporal and a serjeant. Charker was corporal, and the serjeant's name was Drooce. He was the most tyrannical non-commissioned officer in His Majesty's service. The night came on soon after I had had the foregoing words with Charker. All the wonderful bright colors went out of the sea and sky in a few minutes, and all the stars in the Heavens seemed to shine out together, and to look down at themsleves in the sea, over one another's shoulders, millions deep. Next morning we cast anchor off the island. There was a snug harbor within a little reef; there was a sandy beach; there were cocoa-nut trees with high, straight stems, quite bare, and ^22 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS.,foliage at the top like plumes of magnificent green feathers; there were,all the objects that are usually seen in those parts; and I am not going to describe them, having something else to tell about. Great rejoicings, to be sure, were made on our arrival. All the flags in the place were hoisted, all the guns in the place were fired, and all the people in the place came down to look at us. One of those Sambo fellows-they call those natives Sambos, when they are half negro and half Indian-had come off outside the reef to pilot us in, and remained on board after we had let go our anchor. He was called Christian George SKing, and was fonder of all hands than any body else was. Now, I con-,fess, for myself, that on that first day, if I had been captain of the Christopher Columbus, instead of private in the Royal Mariues, I should have,kicked Christian George King —who was no more a Christian than he was a king, or a George-over the side, without exactly knowing why, except that it was the right thing to do. But I must likewise confess that I was not in a particularly pleasant humor, when I stood under arms that morning aboard the Christopher Columbus, in the harbor of the Island of Silver-Store. I had had a hard,life, and the life of the English on the Island seemed too easy and too gay to please me. "Here you are," I thought to myself, "good scholars'and good livers; able to read what you like, able to write what you like, able to eat and drink what you like, and spend what you like, and do what you like; and much you care for a poor, ignorant Private in the Royal Marines I Yet it's hard, too, I think, that you should have all the'half-pence, and I all the kicks; you all the smooth, and I all the rough; you all the oil, and I all the vinegar." It was as envious a thing to think as might be, let alone its being nonsensical; but I thought it. I took it so much amiss, that, when a very beautiful young English lady came aboard, I grunted to myself, "Ah I you have got a lover, I'll be bound I" As if there were any new offence to me in that, if she had I She was sister to the captain of our sloop, who had been in a poor way for some time, and who was so ill then that he was obliged to be carried,ashore She was the child of a military officer, and had come out there with her sister, who was married to one of the owners of the silver-mine, and who had three children with her. It was easy to see that she was the light and spirit of the Island. After I had got a good look at her, I grunted to myself again, in an even worse state of mind than before. "I'll be damned, if I don't hate him whoever he is I" My officer, Lieutenant Linderwood, was as ill as the captain of the sloop, and was carried ashore too. They were both young men of about my age, who had been delicate in the West India climate. I even took that, in bad part. I thought I was much fitter for the work than they were, and that if all of us had our deserts, I should be both of them rolled into one. (It may be imagined what sort of an officer of marines I should THE ISLAND OF SILVER-STORE. 23 have made, without the power of reading a written order. And as to any knowledge how to command the sloop-Lord I I should have sunk her in a quarter of an hour I) However, such were my reflections; and when we men were ashore and dismissed, I strolled about the place along with Charker, making my observations in a similar spirit. It was a pretty place: in all its arrangements partly South American and partly English, and very agreeable to look at on that account, being like a bit of home that had got chipped off and had floated away to that spot, accommodating itself to circumstances as it drifted along. The huts of the Sambos, to the number of five-and-twenty, perhaps, were down by the beach to the left of the anchorage. On the right was a sort of barrack, with a South American Flag and the Union Jack, flying from the same staff, where the little English colony could all come together, if they saw occasion. It was a walled square of building, with a sort of pleasureground inside, and inside that again a sunken block like axpowder magazine, with a little square trench round it, and steps down to the door. Charker and I were looking in at the gate, which was not guarded; and I had said to Charker, in reference to the bit like a powder magazine, "That's where they keep the silver, you see;" and Charker had said to me, after thinking it over, " And silver an't gold —is it, Gill?" when the beautiful young English lady I had been so bilious about, looked out of a door, or a window-at all events looked out, from under a bright awning. She no sooner saw us two in uniform, than she came out so quickly that she was still putting on her broad Mexican hat of plaited straw when we saluted. "Would you like to come in," she said, "and see the place? It is rather a curious place." We thanked the young lady, and said we didn't wish to be troublesome; but, she said, it could be no trouble to an English soldier's daughter, to show English soldiers how their countrymen and countrywomen fared, so far away from England; and consequently we saluted again, and went in. Then, as we stood in the shade, she showed us (being as affable as beautiful) how the different families lived in their separate houses, and how there was a general house for stores, and a general reaing-room, and a general room for music and dancing, and a room for Cjrch; and how there were other houses on the rising-ground called the Signal Hill, where they lived in the hotter weather. "Your officer has been carried up there," she said, "and my brother, too, for the better air. At present, our few residents are dispersed over both spots: deducting, that is to say, such of our number as are always going to, or coming from, or staying at, the Mine." (" He is among one of those parties," I thought, " and I Dish somebody would knock his head off.") 24 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. "Some of our married ladies live here," she said, "during at least half the year, as lonely as widows, with their children." " Many children here, ma'am?" "Seventeen. There arethirteen married ladies, and there are eight like me." There were not eight'like her —there was not one like her —in the world. She meant, single. "Which, with about thirty Englishmen of various degrees," said the young lady, "form the little colony now on the Island. I don't count the sailors, for they don't belong to us. Nor the soldiers," she gave us a gracious smile when she spoke of the soldiers, "for the same reason." " Nor the Sambos, ma'am," said I. "No." "Under your favor, and with your leave, ma'am," said I, "are they trustworthy?" " Perfectly I We are all very kind to them, and they are very grateful to us." "Indeed, ma'am? Now-Christian George King? —" "Very much attached to us all. Would die for us." She was, as in my uneducated way I have observed very beautiful women almost always to be, so composed, that her composure gave great weight to what she said, and I believed it. Then, she pointed out to us the building like a powder magazine, and explained to us in what manner the silver was brought from the mine, and was brought over from the mainland, and was stored there. The Christopher Columbus would have a rich lading, she said, for there had been a great yield that year, a much richer yield than usual, and there was a chest of jewels besides the silver. When we had looked about us, and were getting sheepish, through fearing we were troublesome, she turned us over to a young woman, English born but West India bred, who served her as her maid. This young woman was the widow of a non-commissioned officer in a regiment of the line. She had got married and widowed at St. Vincent, with only a few months between the two events. She was a little saucy woman, with a bright pair of eyes, rather a neat little foot and figure, and rather a neat little turnvq-up nose. The sort of young woman, I considered at the time, who iappearet to invite you to give her a kiss, and Who would have slapped your face if you accepted the invitation. I couldn't make out her name at first; for, when she gave it in answer to my inquiry, it sounded like Beltot, which didn't sound right. IBut, when we became better acquainted-which was while Charker and I were drinking sugar-cane sangaree, which she made in a most excellent manner-I found that her Christian name was Isabella, which they shortened into Bell, and that the name of the deceased non-commissioned offi THE ISLAND OF SILVER-STORE. 25 eer was Tott. Being the kind of neat little woman it was natural to make a toy of-I never saw a woman so like a toy in my life she had got the plaything name of Belltott. In short, she had no other name on the island. Even Mr. Commissioner Pordage (and he was a grave one!) formally addressed her as Mrs. Belltott. But, I shall come to Mr. Commissioner Pordage presently. The name of the captain of the sloop was Captain Maryon, and therefore it was no news to hear from Mrs. Belltott, that his sister, the beautiful unmarried young English lady, was Miss Maryon. The novelty was, that her Christian name was Marion too. Marion Maryon. Many a time I have run off those two names in my thoughts, like a bit of verse 0 many, and many, and many a time I We saw out all the drink that was produced, like good men and true, and then took our leaves, and went down to the beach. The weather was beautiful; the wind steady, low, and gentle; the island, a picture; the sea, a picture; the sky, a picture. In that country there are two rainy seasons in the year. One sets in at about our English Midsummer; the other, about a fortnight after our English Michaelmas. It was the beginning of August at that time; the first of these rainy seasons was well over; and everything was in its most beautiful growth, and had its loveliest look upon it. "They enjoy themselves here," I says'to Charker, turning surly again. "' This is better than private-soldiering." We had come down to the beach, to be friendly with the boat's crew who were camped and hutted there; and we were approaching toward their quarters over the sand, when Christian George King comes up from the landing-place at a wolf's-trot, crying, " Yup, So-Jeer I" —which was that Sambo Pilot's barbarous way of saying, Hallo, Soldierl I have stated myself to be a man of no learning, and, if I entertain prejudices, I hope allowance may be made. I will now confess to one. It may be a right one or it may be a wrong one; but, I never did like Natives, except in the form of oysters. So, when Christian George King, who was individually unpleasant to me besides, comes a trotting along the sand, clucking "' Yup So-Jeer I" I had a thundering good mind to let fly at him with my right. I certainly should have done it, but that it would have exposed me to reprimand. "Yup, So-Jeer I" says he. "Bad job." "What do you mean?" says I. "Yup, So-Jeer I" says he, "Ship Leakee." "Ship leaky?" says I. "Iss," says he, with a nod that looked as if it was jerked out of him by a most violent hiccup-which is the way with those savages. I cast my eyes at Charker, and we both heard the pumps going aboard the sloop, and saw the signal run up. "Come on board; hands wanted 26 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. from the shore." In no time some of the sloop's liberty-men were already running down to the water's edge, and the party of seamen, under orders against the Pirates, were putting off to the Columbus in two boats. "Oh, Christian George King sar berry sorry I" says that Sambo vagabond, then. " Christian George King cry, English fashion I His English fashion of crying was to screw his black knuckles into his eyes, howl like a dog, and roll himself on his back on the sand. It was trying not to kick him, but I gave Charker the word, "Double-quick, Harry!" and we got down to the water's edge, and got on board the sloop. By some means or other, she had sprung such a leak, that no pumping would keep her free; and what between the two fears that she would go down in the harbor, and that, even if she did not, all the supplies she had brought for the little colony would be destroyed by the sea-water as it rose in her, there was great confusion. In the midst of it, Captain Maryon was heard hailing from the beach. He had been carried down in his hammock, and looked very bad; but, he insisted on being stood there on his feet; and I saw him, myself, come off in the boat, sitting upright in the stern-sheets, as if nothing was wrong with him. A quick sort of council was held, and Captain Maryon soon resolved that we must all fall to work to get the cargo out, and, that when that was done, the guns and heavy matters must be got out, and that the sloop must be hauled ashore, and careened, and the leak stopped. We were all mustered (the Pirate-Chase party volunteering), and told off into parties, with so many hours of spell and so many hours of relief, and we all went at it with a will. Christian George King was entered one of the party in which I worked, at his own request, and he went at it with as good a will as any of the rest. Ie went at it with so much heartiness, to say the truth, that he rose in my good opinion, almost as fast as the water rose in the ship. Which was fast enough, and faster. Mr. Commissioner Pordage kept in a red and black japanned box, like a family lump-sugar box, some document or other which some Sambo chief or other had got drunk and spilt some ink over (as well as I could understand the matter), and by that means had given up lawful possession of the Island. Through having hold of this box, Mr. Pordage got his title of Commissioner. He was styled Consul, too, and spoke of himself as "Government." He was a stiff-jointed, high-nosed old gentleman, without an ounce of fat on him, of a very angry temper and a very yellow complexion. Mrs Commissioner Pordage, making allowance for difference of sex, was much the same. Mr. Kitten, a small, youngish, bald, botanical and mineralogical gentleman, also connected with the mine-but every body there was that, more or less-was sometimes called by Mr. Commissioner Pordage, his Vice-commissioner, and sometimes his Deputy-consul. Or sometimes he spoke o' AMr. Kitten, merely as being "under Government." THE ISLAND OF SILVER-STORE. 27 The beach was beginning to be a lively scene with the preparations for careening the sloop, and, with cargo, and spars, and rigging, and watercasks, dotted about it, and with temporary quarters for the men rising up there out of such sails and odds and ends as could be best set on one side to mtake them, when Mr. Commissioner Pordage comes down in a high fluster, and asks for Captain Maryon. The Captain, ill as he was, was slung in his hammock betwixt two trees, that he might direct; and he raised his head, and answered for himself. "Captain Maryon," cries Mr. Commissioner Pordage, "this is not official. This is not regular." "Sir," says the Captain, "it hath been arranged with the clerk and supercargo, that you should be communicated with, and requested to render any little assistance that may lie in your power. I am quite certain that hath been duly done." "Captain Maryon," replies Mr. Commissioner Pordage, "there hath been no written correspondence. No documents have passed, no memoranda have been made, no minutes have been made, no entries and counter-entries appear in the official muniments. This is indecent. I call upon you, sir, to desist, until all is regular, or Government will take this up." " Sir," says Captain Maryon, chafing a little, as he looked out of his hammock; " between the chances of Government taking this up, and my ship taking herself down, I much prefer to trust myself to the former.' "You do, sir?" cries Mr. Commissioner Pordage. "I do, sir," says Captain Maryon, lying down again. " Then, Mr. Kitten," says the Commissioner, "send up instantly for my Diplomatic coat." He wa~ dressed in a linen suit at that moment; but, Mr. Kitten started off himself and brought down the Diplomatic coat, which was a blue cloth one, gold-laced, and with a crown on the button. "Now, Mr. Kitten," says Pordage, "I instruct you, as Vice-Commissioner, and Deputy-consul of this place, to demand of Captain Maryon, of the sloop Christopher Columbus, whether he drives me to the act of putting this coat on?" "Mr. Pordage," says Captain Maryon, looking out of his hammock again, " as I can hear what you say, I can answer it without troubling the gentleman. I should be sorry that you should be at the pains of putting on too hot a coat on my account; but, otherwise, you may put it on hind-side before, or inside-out, or with your legs in the sleeves, or your head in the skirts, for any objection that I have to offer to your thoroughly pleasing yourself." "Very good, Captain Maryon," says Pordage, in a tremendous passion. "Very good, sir. Be the consequences on your own head! Mr. Kitten, as it has come tc this, help me on with it." 28 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. WThen he had given that order, he walked off in the coat, and all our names were taken, and I was afterwards told that Mr. Kitten wrote from his dictation more than a bushel of large paper on the subject; which cost more before it was done with, than ever could be calculated, and which only got done with after all, by being lost. Our work went on merrily, nevertheless, and the Christopher Columbus, hauled up, lay helpless on her side like a great fish out of water. While she was in that state, there was a feast, or a ball, or an entertainment, or more properly all three together, given us in honor of the ship, and the ship's company, and the other visitors. At that assembly, I believe, I saw all.the inhabitants then upon the Island, without any exception. I took no particular notice of more than a few, but I found it very agreeable in that little corner of the world to see the children, who were of all ages, and mostly very pretty-as they mostly are. There was one handsome elderly lady, with very dark eyes and grey hair, that I inquired about. I was told that her name was Mrs. Venning; and her married daughter, a fair slight thing, was pointed out to me by the name of Fanny Fisher. Quite a child she looked, with a little copy of herself holding to her dress; and her husband, jnst come back from the mine, exceeding proud of her. They were a good-looking set of people on the whole, but I didn't like them. I was out of sorts; in conversation with Charker, I found fault with all of them. I said of Mrs. Venning, she was proud; of Mrs. Fisher, she was a delicate little baby-fool. What did I think of this one? Why, he was a fine gentleman. What did I say to that one? Why, she was a fine lady. What could you expect them to be (I asked Charker), nursed in that climate, with the tropical night shining for them, musical instruments playing to them, great trees bending over them, soft lamps lighting them, fire-flies sparkling in among them, bright flowers and birds brought into existence to please their eyes, delicious drinks to be had for the pouring out, delicious fruits to be got for the picking, and every one dancing and murmuring happily in the scented air, with the sea breaking low on the reef for a pleasant chorus. "Fine gentlemen and fine ladies, Harry?" I says to Charker. "Yes, I think so I Dolls I Dolls I Not the sort of stuff for wear, that cbmes of poor private soldiering in the Royal Marines!" However, I could not gainsay that they were very hospitable people, and that they treated us uncommonly well. Every man of us was at the entertainment, and Mrs. Belltott had more partners than she could dance with: though she danced all night, too. As to Jack (whether of the Christopher Columbus, or of the Pirate pursuit party, it made no difference), he danced with his brother Jack, danced with himself, danced with the moon, the stars, the trees, the prospect, any thing. I didn't greatly take to the chief-officer of that party, with his bright eyes, brown face, and easy figure. I didn't much like his way when he first happened to THE ISL IND OF SILVER-STORE. 25 come where we were, with Miss Maryon on his arm. "Oh, Captain Carton," she says, "here are two friends of mine!" He says, "Indeed? These two Marines?' —meaning Charker and self. "Yes," says she, " I showed these two friends of mine when they first came, all the wonders of Silver-Store." He gave us a laughing look, and says he, "You tare in luck, men. I would be disrated and go before the mast to-morrow, to be shown the way upward again by such a guide. You are in luck, men. When we had saluted, and he and the young lady had waltzed away, I said, " You are a pretty fellow, too, to talk of luck. You may go to the Devil!" Mr. Commissioner Pordage and Mrs. Commissioner, showed among the company, on that occasion, like the King and Queen of a much greater Britain than Great Britain. Only two other circumstances in that jovial night made much separate impression on me. One was this. A man in our draft of marines, named Tom Packer, a wild unsteady young fellow, but the son of a respectable shipwright in Portsmouth Yard, and a good scholar, who had been well brought up, comes to me after a spell of dancing, and takes me aside by the elbow, and says, swearing angrily: "Gill Davis, I hope I may not be the death of Serjeant Drooce one day!" Now, I knew Drooce always had borne particularly hard on this man, and I knew this man to be of a very hot temper: so, I said: "Tut, nonsense! don't talk so to me I If there's a man in the corps who scorns the name of an assassin, that man and Tom Packer are one." Tom wipes his head, being in a mortal sweat, and says he: "I hope so, but I can't answer for myself when he lords it over me, as he has just now done, before a woman. I tell you what, Gill I Mark my words! It will go hard with Serjeant Drooce, if ever we are in an engagement together, and he has to look to me to save him. Let him say a prayer then, if he knows one, for its all over with him, and he is on his Death-bed. Mark my words!" I did mark his words, and very so6n afterwards, too, as will shortly be taken down. The other circumstances that I noticed at that ball, was, the gaiety and attachment of Christian George King. The innocent spirits that Sambo Pilot was in, and the impossibility he found himself under of showing all the little colony, but especially the ladies and children, how fond he waa of them, how devoted to them, and how faithful to them for life and death, for present, future, and everlasting, made a great impression on me. If ever a man, Sambo or no Sambo, was trustful and trusted, to what may be called aouite an infantine and sweetly beautiful extent, surely, I thought that morning when I did at last lie down to rest, it was that Sambo Pilot, Christian George King. This may account for my dreaming of him. He stuck in my sleep, 30 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. cornerwise, and I couldn't get him out. He was always flitting about me, dancing round me, and peeping in over my hammlnock, though I woke and dozed off again fifty times. At last, when I opened my eyes, there he really was, looking in at the open side of the little dark hut; which was made of leaves, and had Charker's hammock slung in it as well as mine. "So-Jeer I" says he, in a sort of a low croak. "Yup I" " Hallo!" says I, starting up. "What? You are there, are you?" "Iss," says he. "Christian George King got news." "What news has he got?" "Pirates out!" I was on my feet in a second. So was Charker. We were both aware that Captain Carton, in command of the boats, constantly watched the main land for a secret signal, though, of course, it was not known te such as us what the signal was. Christian George King had vanished before we touched the ground. But the word was already passing from hut to hut to turn out quietly, and we knew that the nimble barbarian had got hold of the truth, or something near it. In a space among the trees, behind the encampment of us visitors, naval and military, was a snugly-screened spot, where we kept the stores that were in use, and did our cookery. The word was passed to assemble here. It was very quickly given, and was given (so far as we were concerned) by Serjeant Drooce, who was as good in a soldier point of view, as he was bad in a tyrannical one. We were ordered to drop into this space, quietly, behind the trees, one by one. As we assembled here the seamen assembled too. Within tenll minutes, as I should estimate, we were all here, except,the usual guard upon the beach. The beach (we could see it through the wood) looked as it always had done in the hottest time of the day. The guard were in the shadow of the sloop's hull, and nothing was moving but the sea, and that moved very faintly. Work had always been knocked off at that hour, untill the sun grew less fierce, and the sea-breeze rose; so that its being holiday with us made no difference, just then, in the look of the place. But I may mention that it was a holiday, and the first we had had since our hard work began. Last night's ball had been given, on the leaks being repaired, and the careening done. The worst of the work was over, and to-morrow we were to begin to get the sloop afloat again. We marines were now drawn up here, under arms. The chace-party were drawn up separate. The men of the Columbus were drawn up separate. The officers stepped out into the midst of the three parties, and spoke so as all might hear. Cartain Carton was the officer in command, and he had a spy-glass in his hand. His coxswain stood by him THE ISLAND OF SILVER-STORE. 31 with another spy-glass, and with a slate, on which he seemed to have been taking down signals. "Now men!" says Captain Carton, "I have to let you know, for your satisfaction: Firstly, that there are ten pirate boats, strongly manned and armed, lying hidden up a creek, yonder on the coast, under the overhanging branches of the dense trees. Secondly, that they will certainly come out this night when the moon rises, on a pillaging and murdering expedition, of which some part of the main land is the object. Thirdly -don't cheer, men! —that we will give chase, and, if we can get at them, rid the world of them, please God I" Nobody spoke that I heard, and nobody moved, that I saw. Yet there was a kind of ring, as if every man answered and approved with the best blood that was inside of him. "Sir," says Captain Maryon, "I beg to volunteer on this service with my boats. My people volunteer, to the ship's boys." " In His Majesty's name and service," the other answers, touching his hat, "I accept your avid with pleasure. Lieutenant Linderwood, how will you divide your men?" I was ashamed-I give it out to be written down as large and plain as possible-I was heart and soul ashamed of my thoughts of those two sick officers, Captain Maryon and Lieutenant Linderwood, when I saw them, then and there. The spirit in those two gentlemen beat down their illness (and very ill I knew them to be) like Saint George beating down the Dragon. Pain and weakness, want of ease and want of rest, had no more place in their minds than fear itself. Meaning now to express, for my lady to write down, exactly what I felt then and there, I felt this: "You two brave fellows that I have been so grudgeful of, I know that if you were dying you would put it off to get up and do your best, and then you would be so modest that in lying down again to die, you would hardly say,'I did it I"'" It did me good. It really did me good. But, to go back to where I broke off. Says Captain Carlton to Lieutenant Linderwood, " Sir, how will you divide your men? There is not room for all; and a few men should, in any case, be left here!" There was some debate about it. At last, it was resolved to leave eight marines and four seamen on the Island, besides the sloop's two boys. And because it was considered, that the friendly Sambos would only want to be commanded in case of any danger (though none at all was apprehended there), the officers were in favor of leaving the two non-commissioned officers, Drooce and Charker. It was a heavy disappointment to them, just as my being one of the left was a heavy disappointment to me-then, but not soon afterward. We men drew lots for it, and I drew "Island." So did Tom Packer. So, of course, did four more of our rank and file. 32 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. When this was settled, verbal instructions were given to all hands teo keep the intended expedition secret, in order that the women and children might not be alarmed, or the expedition put in difficulty by more volunteers. The assembly was to be on that same spot, at sunset. Every mall was to keep up an appearance, meanwhile, of occupying himself in his usual way. That is to say, every man except four old trusty seamen, who were appointed, with an officer, to see to the arms and ammunition, and to muffle the rullocks of the boats, and to make every thing as trim and swift and silent as it could belgade. The Sambo Pilot had been present all the while, in case 6f his being wanted, and had said to the officer in command, five hundred times over if he had said it once, that Christian George King would stay with the So-Jeers, and take care of the booffer ladies and the booffer childs-booffer being that. native's expression for beautiful. He was now asked a few questions concerning the putting off of the boats, and in particular whether there was any way of embarking at the back of the Island: which Captain Carton would have half liked to do, and then have dropped round in its shadow and slanted across to the main. But, " No," says Christian George King. "No, no, no I Told you so ten time. No, no, no! All reef, all rock, all swim, all drown I" Striking out as he said it, like a swimmer gone-mad, and turning over on his back on dry land and spluttering himself to death, in a manner that made him quite an exhibition. The sun went down, after appearing to be a long time about it, and the assembly was called. Every man answered to his name, of course, and was at his post. It was not yet black dark, and the roll was only just gone through, when up comes Mr. Commissioner Pordage with his Diplomatic coat on. " Captain Carton," says he, "Sir, what is this?" "This, Mr. Commissioner," (he was very short with him) "is an expedition against the Pirates. It is a secret expedition, so please to keep it a secret." "Sir," says Commissioner Pordage, " I trust there is going to be no unnecessary cruelty committed?" "Sir," returns the officer, " I trust not." "That is not enough, sir," cries Commissioner Pordage, getting wroth.' Captain Carton, I give you notice. Government requires you to treat the enemy with great delicacy, cousideration, clemency, and forbearance." "Sir," says Captain Carton, "I am an English Officer, commanding English men, and I hope I am not likely to disappoint the Government's just expectations. But, I presume you know that these villains under their black flag have despoiled our countrymen of their property, burnt their homes, barbarously murdered them and their little children, and worse than murdered their wives and daughters?" "Perhaps I do, Captain Carton," answers Pordage, waving his hand, THE ISLAND OF SILVER-STORE. 33 wish d1ignity; "perhaps I do not. It is not customary, sir, for Government to commit itself." " It matters very little, Mr. Pordage, whether or no. Believing that I hold nmy commission by the allowance of God, and not that I have received it direct from the Devil, I shall certainly use it, with all avoidance of unnecessaly suffering and with all merciful swiftness of execution, to exterminate these people from the face of the earth. Let me recommend you to go home, sir, and to keep out of the night-air." Never another syllable did that officer say to the Commissioner, but turned away to his men. The Commissioner buttoned up his Diplomatic coat to the chin, said, " Mr. Kitten attend me!" gasped, half-choked himself, and took himself off. It now fell very dark, indeed. I have seldom, if ever, seen it darker, nor yet so dark. The moon was aot due until one in the morning, and it was but a litLie after nine when our men lay down where they were mustered. It was pretended that they were to take a nap, but everybody knew that no nap was to be got under the circumstances. Though all were very qutet, there was a restlesness among the people; much what I have seen among the people on a race-course, when the bell has rung for;le saddling for a great race with large stakes on it. At ten, they put off; only one boat putting off at a time; another following in five minutes; both then lying on their oars until another followed. Ahead of all, paddling his own outlandish little canoe without a sound, went the Sanmlo pilot, to take them safely outside the reef. No light was shown but once, and that was in the commanding officer's own hand. I lighted the dark lantern for him, and he took it from me when he embarked. They had blue lights and such like with them, but kept themselves as dark as Murder. The expedition got away with wonderful quietness, and Christian George King soon came back, dancing with joy. "Yup, So-Jeer," says he to myself, in a very objectional kind of convulsions, " Christian George King sar berry glad. Pirates all be blown a-pieces. Yup! Yup!" My reply to that cannibal was, " However glad you may be, hold your noise, and don't dance jigs and slap your knees about it, for I can't abear to see you do it." I was on duty then; we twelve who were left being divided into four watches of three each, three hours' spell. I was relieved at twelve. A little before that time, I had challenged, and Miss Maryon and Mrs. Belltotte had come in. "Good Davis," says Miss Maryon, " what is the matter? Where is my brother?" I told her what was the matter, and where her brother was. "0 Heaven help him I" says she, clasping her hands and looking up2 34 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISHI PRISONERS. she was close in front of me, and she looked most lovely to be sure'; "he is not sufficiently recovered, not strong enough, for such strife I" "If you had seen him, miss," I told her, "as I saw him when he volunteered, you would have known that his spirit is strong enough for any strife. It will bear his body, miss, to wherever duty calls him. It will always bear him to an honorable life, or a brave death." "Heaven bless you I" says she, touching my armn. "I know it. Heaven bless you!" Mrs. Belltott surprised me by trembling and saying nothing. They were still standing looking towards the sea and listening, after the relief had come round. It continuing very dark, I asked to be allowed to take them back. Miss Maryon thanked me, and she put her arm in mine, and I did take them back. I have now got to make a confession that will appear singular. After I had left them, I laid myself down on my face on the beach, and cried, for the first time since I had friglltened birds as a boy at Snorridge Bottom, to think what a poor, ignorant, low-placed, private soldier I was. It was only for half a minute or so. A man can't at all ttmes be quite master of himself, and it was only for half a minute or so. Then I up and went to my hut, and turned into my hammock, and fell asleep with wet eyelashes, and a sore, sore heart. Just as I had often done when I was a child, and had been worse used than usual. I slept (as a child under those circumstances might) very sound, andyet very sore at heart all through my sleep. I was' awoke by the words, " He is a determined man." I had sprung out of my hammock, and had seized my firelock, and was standing on the ground, saying the words myself. " He is a determined man." But, the curiosity of my state was, that I seemed to be repeating thlem after somebody, and to have been wonderfully startled by hearing them. As soon as I came to myself, I went out of the hut, and away to where the guard was. Charker challenged: "Who goes there?" "A friend." " Not Gill?" says he, as he shouldered his piece. " Gill," says I. "Why, what the deuce do yu do out of your hammock?" says he. " Too hot for sleep," says I; "is all right?" " Right?" says Charker, "yes, yes; all's right enough here; what should be wrong kere? It's the boats that we want to know of. Except for fireflies twinkling about, and the lonesome splashes of great creatures as they drop into the water, there's nothing going on here to ease a man's mind from the boats." The moon was above the sea, and had risen, I should say, some half-anhour. As Charker spoke, with his face towards the sea, I, looking landward, suddenly laid my right hand on his breast, and said, " Don't move. Don't turn. Don't raise your voice! You never saw a Maltese face here?" " No. What do you mean?" he asks, staring at me. THE ISLAND OF SILVER-STORF. 35 "Nor yet an English face, with one eye and a patch across the nose?" "No. What ails you? What do you mean?" I had seen both, looking at us round the stem of a cocoa-nut tree, where the moon struck them. I had seen that Sambo Pilot, with one hand laid on the stem of the tree, drawing them back into the heavy shadow. I had seen their naked cutlasses twinkle and shine, like bits of the moonshine in the water that had got blown ashore among the trees by the light wind. I had seen it all, in a moment. And I saw in a moment (as any man would), that the signalled move of the pirates on the main land was a plot and a feint; that the leak had been made to disable the sloop; that the boats had been tempted away, to leave to the Island unprotected; that the pirates had landed by some secreted way at the back; and that Christian George King was a double-dyed traitor, and a most infernal villain. I considered, still all in one and the same moment, that Charker was a brave man, but not quick with his head; and that Serjeant Drooce, with a much better head, was close bv. All I said to Charker was, "I am afraid we are betrayed. Turn your back full to the moonlight on the sea, and cover the stem of the cocoa-nut tree which will then be right before you, at the height of a man's heart. Are you right?" " I am right," says Charker, turning instantly, and falling into the posi. tion with a nerve of iron; " and' right a'nt left. Is it Gill?" A few seconds brought me to Serjeant Drooce's hut. He was fast asleep, and being a heavy sleeper, I had to lay my hand upon him to rouse him. The instant I touched him he came rolling out of his hammock, and upon me like a tiger. And a tiger he was, except that he knew what he was up to, in his utmost heat, as well as any man. I had to struggle with him pretty hard' to bring him to his senses, panting all the while (for he gave me a breather). "Serjeant, I am Gill Davis I Treachery! Pirates on the Island " The last words brought him round, and he took his hands off. " I have seen two of them within this minute," said I. And so I told him what 1 had told Harry Charker. His soldierly, though tyrannical, head was clear in an instant. He didn't waste one word, even of surprise. " Order the guard," says he, " to draw off quietly into the Fort." (They called the enclosure I have before mentioned, the Fort, though it was not much of that.) " Then get you to the Fort as quick as you can, rouse up every soul there, and fasten the gate. I will bring in all those who are up at the Signal Hill. If we are surrounded before we can join you, you must make a sally and cut us out if you can. The word among our men is,' Women and children I' " He burst away, like fire going before the wind over dry reeds. He roused up the seven men who were off duty, and had them bursting away with him, before they knew they were not asleep. I reported orders tc 36 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. Charker, and ran to the Fort, as I have never run at any other time in all my life: no, not even in a dream. The gate was not fast, and had no good fastening: only a double wooden bar, a poor chain, and a bad lock. Those, I secured as well as they could be secured in a few seconds by one pair of hands, and so ran to that part of the building where Miss Maryon lived. I called to her loudly by her name until she answered. I then called loudly all the names I knew-Mrs. Macey (Miss Maryon's married sister), Mr. Macey, Mrs. Venning, Mr. and Mrs. Fisher, even Mr. and Mrs. Pordage. Then I called out, " All you gentleman here, get up and defend the place I We are caught in a trap. Pirates have landed. We are attacked I" At the terrible word "Pirates!"- for those villains had done such deeds in those seas as never can be told in writing, and can scarcely be so much as thought of —cries and screams rose up from every part of the place. Quickly, lights moved about from window to window, and the cries moved about with them, and men, women and children came flying down into the square. I remarked to myself, even then, what a number of things I seemed to see at once. I noticed Mrs. Macey coming towards me, carrying all her three children together. I noticed Mr. Pordage, in the greatest terror, in vain trying to get on his Diplomatic coat; and Mr. Kitten respectfully tying his pocket-handkerchief over Mrs. Pordage's nightcap. I noticed Mrs. Belltott run'out screaming, and shrink upon the ground near me, and cover her face in her hands, and lie, all of a bundle, shivering. But, what I noticed with the greatest pleasure was, the determined eyes with which those men of the Mine that I had thought fine gentlemen, came round me with what arms they had: to the full as cool and resolute as I could be, for my life —aye, and for my soul, too, into the bargain I The chief person being Mr. Macey, I told him how the three men of the guard would be at the gate directly, if they were not already there, and how Serjeant Drooce and the other seven were gone to bring in the outlying part of the people of Silver-store. I next urged him, for the love of all who were dear to him, to trust no Sambo, and, above all, if he could get any good chance at Christian George King, not to lose it, but to put him out of the world. " I will follow your advice to the letter, Davis," says he; " what next?" My answer was, " I think, sir, I would recommend you next, to order down such heavy furniture and lumber as,can be moved, and make a barricade within the gate." "That's good again," says he; " will you see it done?" " I'll willingly help to do it," says I, "unless or until my superior, Serjeant Drooce, gives me other orders." He shook me by the hand, and having told off some of his companions to help me, bestirred himself to look to the arms and ammunition. A proper quick, brave, steady, ready gentleman l One et their three little children was deaf and dumb. Miss Maryon THE ISLAND OF SILVER-STORE 37 had been from the first with all the children, soothing them, and dressing them (poor little things, they had been brought out'of their beds), and making them believe that it was a game of play, so that some of them were now even laughing. I had been working hard with the others at the barricade, and had got up a pretty good breastwork within the gate. Drooce and the seven had come back, bringing in the people from the Signal Hill, and had worked along with us; but, I had not so much as spoken a word to Drooce, nor had Drooce so much as spoken a word to Dme, for we were both too busy. The breastwork was now finished, and I found Miss Maryon at my side, with a child in her arms. Her dark hair was fastened round her head with a band. She had a quantity of it, and it looked even richer and more precious, put up hastily out of her way, than I had seen it look when it was carefully arranged. She was very pale, but extraordinarily quiet and still. "Dear good Davis," said she, " I have been waiting to speak one word to you." I turned to her directly. If I had received a musket-ball in the heart, and she had stood there, I almost believe I should have turned to her before I dropped. "This pretty little creature," said she, kissing the child in her arms, who was playing with her hair and trying to pull it down, " cannot hear what we say-can hear nothing. I trust you so much, and have such great confidence in you, that I want you to make me a promise." " What is it, Miss?" "That if we are defeated, andi you are absolutely sure of my being taken, you will kill me." "I shall not be alive to do it, Miss. I shall have died in your defence before it comes to that. They must step across my body, to lay a hand on you." "But, if you are alive, you brave soldier." How she looked at me I "And if you cannot save me from the Pirates, living, you will save me, dead. Tell me so." Well I I told her I would do that, at the last, if all else failed. She took my hand —my rough, coarse hand-and put it to her lips. She put it to the child's lips, and the child kissed it. I believe I had the strength of half a dozen men in me, from that moment, until the fight was over. All this time, Mr. Commissioner Pordage had been wanting to make a Proclamation to the Pirates, to lay down their arms and go away; and everybody had been hustling him about and tumbling over him, while be was calling for pen and ink to write it with.' Mrs. Pordage, too, had some curious ideas about the British respectability of her nightcap (which had as many frills to it, growing in layers one inside another, as if it was a white vegetable of the artichoke sort), and she wouldn't take the nightcap off; and would be angry when it got crushed, by the other ladies who 38 TH-IE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. were handing things about, and, in short, she gave as much trouble as hei husband did. But, as we were now forming for the defence of the place, they were both poked out of the way with no ceremony. The children and ladies were got into the little trench which surrounded the silver-house (we were afraid of leaving them in any of the light buildings, lest they should be set on fire), and we made the best disposition we could. There was a pretty good store, in point of amount, of tolerable swords and cutlasses. Those were issued. There were, also, a score or so of spare muskets. Those were brought out. To my astonishment, little Mrs. Fisher that I had taken for a doll and a baby, was not only very active in that service, but volunteered to load the spare arms. "For I understand it well," says she cheerfully, without a shake in her voice. "I am a soldier's daughter, and a sailor's sister, and I understand it too," says Miss Maryon, just in the same way. Steady and busy behind where I stood, those two beautiful and delicate young women fell to handling the guns, hammering the flints, looking to the locks, and quietly directing others to pass up powder and bullets from hand to hand, as unflinching as the best of tried soldiers. Serjeant Drooce had brought in word that the pirates were very strong in numbers-over a hundred, was his estimate-and that they were not, even then, all landed; for, he had seen them in a very good position onthe further side of the Signal Hill, evidently waiting for the rest of their mitn to come up. In the present pause, the first we had had since the alarrl, he was telling this over again to Mr.Macey, when Mr. Macey suddenly cried out: " The signal I Nobody has thought of the signal!" We knew of no signal, so we could not have thought of it. "'What signal may you mean, sir?" says Serjeant Drooce, looking sharp at him. " There is a pile of wood upon the Signal Hill. If it could be lighted -which never has been done yet-it would be a signal of distress to the mainland. " Charker cries, directly: "Serjeant Drooce, dispatch me on that duty. Give me the two men who were on guard with me to-night, and I'll light the fire, if it can be done." "And if it can't, Corporal — " Mr. Macey strikes in. "Look at these ladies and children, sir!" says Charker. "I'd sooner light myself, than not try any chance to save them." We gave him a Hurrah! —it burst from us, come of it what mightand he got his two men, and was let out at the gate, and crept away. I had no sooner come back to my place from being one of the party to handle the gate, than Miss Maryon said in a low voice behind me: "Davis, will you look at this powder. This is not right?" I turned mly head. Christian George King again, and treachery again I THE ISLAND OF SILVER-STORE. 39 Sea-water had been conveyed into the magazine, and every grain of powder was spoiled I "Stay a moment," said Serjeant Drooce, when I had told him, without causing a movement in a muscle of his face: "look to your pouch, my lad. You Tom Packer, look to your pouch, confound you I Look to your pouches,- all you Marines." The same artful savage had got at them, somehow or another, and the cartridges were all unserviceable. "Hum I" says the Serjeant, "Look to your loading, men. You are right so far?" Yes; we were right so far. "Well, my lads, and gentlemen all," says the Serjeant, "this will be a hand-to-hand affair, and so much the better." He treated himself to a pinch of snuff, and stood up, square-shouldered and broad-chested, in the light of the moon-which was now very bright -as cool as if he was waiting for a play to begin. IHe stood quiet, and we all stood quiet, for a matter of something like half-an-hour. I took notice from such whispered talk as there was, how little we that the silver did not belong to, thought about it, and how much the people that it did belong to, thought about it. At the end of the half-hour, it was reported from the gate that Charker and the two were falling back on us, pursued by about a dozen. " Sally t Gate-party, under Gill Davis," says the Serjeant, "and bring'em in I Like men, now I" We were not long about it, and we brought them in. "Don't take me," says Charker, holding me round the neck, and stumbling down at my feet when the gate was fast, "don't take me near the ladies or the children, Gill. They had better not see Death, tillJit can't be helped. They'll see it soon enough." " Harry!" I answered, holding up his head. "Comrade!" He was cut to pieces. The signal had been secured by the first pirate party that landed; his hair was all singed off, and his face was blackened with the running pitch from a torch. He made no complaint of pain, or of anything. "Good bye, old chap,'" was all he said, with a smile. "I've got my. death. And Death a'nt life. Is it Gill?" Having helped to lay his poor body on one side, I went back to my post., Serjeant Drooce Ioked at me, with his eyebrows a little lifted. I nodded. "Close up here, men, and gentlemen all!" said the Serjeant. "A place too many, in the line." The pirates were so close upon us at this time, that the foremost of them were already beore' the gate. More and more came up with a great noise, and shouting loudly. When we believed from the sound that they were all there, we gave three English cheers. The poor little chil-. dren joined, and were so fully convinced of our being at play, that they 40 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. enjoyed the noise, and were heard clapping their hands in the silence that followed. Our disposition was this, beginning with the rear. Mrs. Venning, holding her daughter's child in her arms, sat on the steps of the little square trench surrounding the silver-house, encouraging and directing those women and children as she might have done in the happiest and easiest time of her life. Then, there was an armed line, under Mr. Macey, across the width of the enclosire. facing that way and having their backs toward the gate, in order that they might watch the walls and prevent our being taken by surprise. Then, there was a space of eight or ten feet deep, in which the spare arms were, and in which Miss Maryon and Mrs. Fisher, their hands and dresses blackened with the spoilt gunpowder, worked on their knees, tying such things as knives, old bayonets, and spear-heads, to the muzzles of the useless muskets. Then, there was a second armed line, under Serjeant Drooce, also across the width of the enclosure, but facing to the gate. Then, came the breastwork we had made, with a zig-zag way through it for me and my little party to hold good in retreating, as long as we could, when we were driven from the gate. We all knew that it was impossible to hold the place long, and that our only hope was in the timely discovery of the plot by the boats, and in their coming back. I and my men were now thrown forward to the gate. From a spyhole, I could see the whole crowd of Pirates. There were Malays among them, Dutch, Maltese, Greeks, Sambos, Negroes, and Convict English. men from the West India Islands; among the last, him with the one eye and the patch across the npse. There were some Portuguese, too, and a few Spaniards. The captain was a Portuguese; a little man with very large ear-rings under a'very broad hat, and a great bright shawl twisted about his shoulders. They were all strongly armed, but like a boarding party, with pikes, swords, cutlassess, and axes. I noticed a good many pistols, but not a gun of any kind among them. This gave me to understand that they had considered that a continued roll of musketry might perhaps have been heard on the mainland; also, that for the reason that fire would be seen from the mainland they would not set the Fort in flames and roast us alive; which was one of their favorite ways of carrying on. I looked about for Christian George King, and if I had seen him I am much mistaken if he would not have received. my one round of ballcartridge in his head. But, no Christian George King was visible. A sort of a wild Portuguese demon, who seemed either fierce-mad or fierce-drunk —but, they all seemed one or the other-came forward with the black flag, and gave it a wave or two. After that, the Portuguese captain called out in shrill English. "I say you! English fools I Open the gate I Surrender I" As we kept close and quiet, he said something to his men which I didn't THE ISL AND OF SILVER-STORE. 41 understand, and when he had said it,the one-eyed English rascal with the patch (who had stepped out when he began), said it again in English. It was only this. " Boys of the black flag, this is to be quickly done. Take all the prisoners you can. If they don't yield, kill the,children to make them. Forward I" Then they all came on at the gate, and, in another half-minute were smashing and splitting it in. / We struck at them through the gaps, and shivers, and we dropped many of them, too; but, their very weight would have carried such a gate, if they had been unarmed. I soon found Serjeant Drooce at my side, forming us six remaining marines in line-Tom Packer next to me-and ordering us to fallEack three paces, and, as they broke in, to give them our one little volley %t short distance. "' Then," says he, "receive them behind your breastwork on the bayonet, and at least let every man of you pin one of the cursed cockchafers through the body." We checked them by our fire, slight as it was, and we checked them at the breastwork, However, they broke over it like swarms of devils-they were, really and truly, more devils than men-and then it was hand to hand, indeed. We clubbed our muskets and laid about us; even then, those two ladies -always behind me —were steady and ready with the arms. I had a lot of Maltese and Malays upon me, and but for a broadsword that Miss Maryon's own hand put in mine, should have got my end from them. But was that all? No. I saw a heap of banded dark hair and a white dress come thrice between me and them, under my own raised right arms which each time might have destroyed the wearer of the white dress;,and, each time one of the lot went down, struck dead. Drooce was armed with a broadsword, too, and did such things with it, that there was a cry, in half-a-dozen languages, of " Kill that serjeant I" as I knew by the cry being raised in English, and taken up in other tongues. I had received a severe cut across the left arm a few moments before, and should have known nothing of it, except supposing that somebody had struck me a smart blow, if I had nbt felt weak, and seen myself covered with spouting blood, and, at the same instant of time, seen Miss Maryon tearing her. dress, and binding it with Mrs. Fisher's help round the wound. They called to Tom Packer, who was scouring by, to stop and guard me for one minute, while I was bound, or I should bleed to death in trying to defend myself. Tom stopped directly, with a good sabre in his hand. In that same moment-all things seem to happen in that same moment, at such a time-half-a-dozen had rushed howling at Serjeant Drooce. The Serjeant, stepping back against the wall, stopped one howl for ever with such a terrible blow, and waited for the rest to come on, with such a wonderfully unmoved face, that they stopped and looked at him. 42 iTHE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. "See him now I" cried Tom Packer. "'Now, when I could cat him out I Gill I Did I tell you to mark my words?" I implored Tom Packer in the Lord's name, as well as I could in my faintness, to go to the Serjeant's aid. "I hate and detest him," says Tom, moodily wavering. "Still, he is a brave man." Then he calls out, "Serjeant Drooce, Serjeant Drooce I Tell me you have driven me too hard, and are sorry for it." The Serjeant, without turning his eyes from his assailants, which would have been instant death to him, answers: "No. I won't." "Serjeant Drooce I" cries Tom, in a kind of an agony. "-I have passed my word that I would never save you from Death, if I could, but would leave you to die. Tell me you have driven me too hard and are sorry for it, and that shall go for nothing." One of the group laid the Serjeant's bald bare head open. The Serjeant laid him dead. "I tell you," says the Serjeant, breathing a little short, and waiting for the next attack. "No. I won't. If you are not man enough to strike for a fellow-soldier because he wants help, and because of nothing else, I'll go into the other world and look for a better man." Tom swept upon them, and cut him out. Tom and he fought their way through another knot of them, and sent them flying, and came over to where I was beginning again to feel, with inexpressible joy, that I had got a sword in my hand. They had hardly come to us, when I heard, above all the other noises, a tremendous cry of women's voices. I also saw Miss Maryon, with quite a new face, suddenly clap her two hands over Mrs. Fisher's eyes. I looked towards the silver-house, and saw Mrs. Venning-standing upright on the top of the steps of the trench, with her grey hair and her dark eyes-hide her daughter's child behind her, among the folds of her dress, strike a pirate with her other hand, and fall, shot by his pistol. The cry arose again, and there was a terrible and confusing rush of the women into the midst of the struggle. In another moment, something came tumbling down upon me that I thought was the wall. It was a heap of Sambos who had come over the wall; and of four men who clung to my legs like serpents, one who clung to my right leg was Christian George King. "Yup, So-Jeer I" says he, "Christian George King sar berry glad So-Jeer a prisoner. Christian George King been waiting for So-Jeer seech long time. Yup, yup!" What could I do with five-and-twenty of them on me, but be tied hand and foot? So, I was tied hand and foot. It was -all over now-boats not come back-all lost I When I was fast bound and was put up against THE ISLAND OF SILVER-STORE. 43 the wall, the one-eyed English convict came up with the Portuguese Captain, to have a look at me. "See I" says he, "Here's the determined man I If you had slept sounder, last night, you'd have slept your soundest last night, my determined man." The Portuguese Captain laughed in a cool way, and, with the flat of his cutlass, hit me crosswise, as if I was the bough of a tree that he played with: first on the face, and then across the chest and the wounded arm. I looked him steady in the face without trembling while he looked at me, I am happy to say; but, when they went away, I fell, and lay there. The sun was up, when I was roused and told to come down to the beach and be embarked. I was full of aches and pains, and could not at first remember; but, I remembered quite soon enough. The killed were lying about all over the place, and the Pirates were burying their dead, and taking away their wounded on hastily-made litters, to the back of the Island. As for us prisoners, some of their boats had come round to the usual harbor, to carry us off. We looked a wretched few, I thought, when I got down there; still, it was another sign that we had fought well, and made the enemy stiffer. The Portuguese Captain had all the women already embarked in the boat he himself commanded, which was just putting off when I got down. Miss Maryon sat on one side of him, and gave me a moment's look, as full of quiet courage, and pity, and confidence, as if it had been an hour long. On the other side of him was poor little Mrs. Fisher, weeping for her child and her mother. I was shoved into the same boat with Drooce and Packer, and the remainder of our party of marines: of whom we had lost two privates, besides Charker, my poor, brave comrade. We all made a melancholy passage under the hot sun, over to the mainland. There, we landed on a solitary place, and were mustered on the sea sand. Mr. and Mrs. Macey and their children were amongst us, Mr. and Mrs. Pordage, Mr. Kitten, Mr. Fisher, and Mrs. Belltott. We mustered only fourteen men, fifteen women, and seven children. Those were all that remained of the English who had lain down to sleep last night, unsuspecting and happy, on the Island of Silver-Store. CHAPTER II. THE PRISON IN THE WOODS. THERE we all stood, huddled up on the beach, under the burning sun, with the pirates closing us in on every side-as forlorn a company of helpless men, women, and children as ever was gathered together out of any nation in the world. I kept my thoughts to myself; but I did not in my heart believe that any one of our lives was worth five minutes' purchase. The man on whose will our safety or destruction depended was the Pirate Captain. All our eyes, by a kind of instinct, fixed themselves on him-excepting in the case of the poor children, who, too frightened to cry, stood hiding their faces against their mothers' gowns. The ruler who held all the ruffians about us in subjection, was, judging by appearances, the very last man I should have picked out as likely to fill a place of power among any body of men, good or bad, under Heaven. By nation, he was a Portuguese; and, by name, he was generally spoken of among his men as The Don. Hld was a little, active, weazen, monkeyfaced man, dressed in the brightest colors and the finest-made clothes I ever saw. His three-cornered hat was smartly cocked on one side. His coat-skirts were stiffened and stuck out, like the skirts of the dandies in the Mall in London. When the dance was given at the Island, I saw no such lace on any lady's dress there as I saw on his cravat and ruffles. Round his neck he wore a thick gold chain, with a diamond cross hanging from it. His lean, wiry, brown fingers were covered with rings. Over his shoulders, and falling down in front to below his waist, he wore a sort of sling of broad scarlet cloth, embroidered with beads and little feathers, and holding, at the lower part, four loaded pistols, two on a side, lying ready to either hand. His face was mere skin and bone, and one of his wrinkled cheeks had a blue scar running all across it, which drew up that part of his face, and showed his white shining teeth on that side of his mouth. An uglier, meaner, weaker, man-monkey to look at, I never saw; and yet there was not one of his crew, from his mate to his cabinboy, who did not obey him as if he had been the greatest monarch in the world. As for the Sambos, including especially that evil-minded scoun: drel, Christian George King, they never went near him without seeming to want to roll before him on the ground, for the sake of winning the honor of having one of his little dancing-master's feet set on their black bullock bodies. (44) THE PRISON IN THE WOODS. 45 There this fellow stood, while we were looking at him, with his hands in his pockets, smoking a cigar. His mate (the one-eyed Englishman), stood by him; a big, hulking fellow he was, who might have eaten the Captain up, pistols and all, and looked about for more afterwards. The Don himself seemed, to an igmnrant man like me, to have a gift of speaking in any tongue he liked. I can testify that his English rattled out of his crooked lips as fast as if it was natural to them; making allowance, of course, for his foreign way of clipping his words... "Now, Captain," says the big mate, running his eye over us as if we were a herd of cattle, "here they are. What's to be done with them?" "Are they all off the Island?" says the Pirate Captain. "All of them that are alive," says the mate. "Good, and very good," says the captain. "Now, Giant-Georgy, some paper, a pen, and a horn of ink." Those things were brought immediately. " Something to write on," says the Pirate Captain. "What? HIa I why not a broad nigger back?" He pointed with the end of his cigar to one of the Sambos. The man was pulled forward, and set down on his knees with his shoulders rounded. The Pirate Captain laid the paper on them, and took a dip of ink-then suddenly turned up his snub-nose with a look of disgust, and, removing the paper again, iook from his pocket a fine cambric handkerchief edged with lace, smelt at the scent on it, and afterwards laid it delicately over the Sambo's shoulders. "A table of black man's back, with the sun on it, close under my nose -ah, Giant-Georgy, pahl pahl" says the Pirate Captain, putting the paper on the handkerchief. with another grimace expressive of great dis. gust. He began to write immediately, waiting from time to time to consider a little with himself; and once stopping, apparently, to count our numbers as we stood before him. To think of that villain knowing how to write, and of my not being able to make so much as a decent pothook, if it had been to save my life! When he had done, he signed to one of his men to take the scented handkerchief off the Sambo's back, and told the sailor he might keep it for his trouble. Then, holding the written paper open in his hand, he came forward a step or two closer to us, and said, with a grin, and a mock bow, which made my fingers itch with wanting to be at him: "I have the honor of addressing myself to the ladies. According to my reckoning there are fifteen ladies In all. Does any one of them belong to the chief officer of the sloopI?" There was a momentary silence. " You don't answer me," says the Pirate Captain. "Now, I mean t6 be answered. Look here, women." He drew one of his four pistols out .46 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. of his gay scarlet sling, and walked up to Tom Packer, who happened to be standing nearest to him of the men prisoners. "This is a pistol, and it is loaded. I put the barrel to the head of this man with my right hand, and I take out my watch with my left. I wait five minutes for an answer. If I don't get it in five minutes, I blow this man's brains out. I wait five minutes again, and if I don't get an answer, I blow the next man's brains out. And so I go on, if you are obstinate, and your nerves are strong, till not one of your soldiers or your sailors is left. On my word of honour, as a: gentleman-buccanier, I promise you that. Ask my men if I ever broke my word." He rested the barrel of the pistol against Tom Packer's head, and looked at his watch, as perfectly composed, in his cat-like cruelty, as if he was waiting for the boiling of an egg. " If you think it best not to answer him, ladies," says Tom, " never mind me. It's my trade to risk my life; and I shall lose'it in a good cause. " "A brave man," said the Pirate Captain, lightly. "Well, ladies, are you goirig to sacrifice the brave man?" "We are going to save him," said Miss Maryon, "as he has striven to save us. 1 belong to the captain of the sloop. I am his sister." She stopped, and whispered anxiously to Mrs. Macey, who was standing with her. "Don't acknowledge yourself, as I have done —you have children." "Good I" said the Pirate Captain. "The answer is given, and the brains may stop in the brave man's head." He put his watch and pistol back, and took two or three quick puffs at his cigar to keep it alightthen handed the paper he had written on, and his penfull of ink, to Miss Maryofi. "Read that over," he said, "and sign it for yourself, and the women and children with you." Saying those words, he turned round briskly on his heel, and began talking, in a whisper, to Giant Georgy, the big English mate. What he was talking about, of course, I could not hear; but I noticed fhat -le mo. tioned several times straight into the interior of the country. "Davis," said Miss Maryon, "look at this." She crossed before her sister, as she spoke, and held the paper which the Pirate Captain had given to her, under my eyes —my bound arms not allowing me to take it myself. Never to my dying day shall I forget the shame I felt, when I was obliged to acknowledge to Miss Maryon that I could not read a word of it I "There are better men than me, ma'am," I said, with a sinking heart, "who can read it, and advise you for the best." "None better," she answered, quietly. "None, whose advice I would so willingly take.; I have seen enough, to feel sure of that. Listen, Davis, while I read." THE PRISON IN THE WOODS. 4' Her pale face turned paler still, as she fixed her eyes on tile paper. Lowering her voice to a whiper, so that the women and children near might not hear she read me these lines: "To the Captains of English men-of-war, and to the commanders of vessels of other nations, cruising in the Caribbean Seas. "The precious metal and the jewels laid up in the English Island of Silver-Store, are in the possession of the Buccaniers, at sea. " The women and children of the Island of Silver-Store, to the number of Twenty-Two, are in the possession of the Buccaniers, on land. "They will be taken up the country, with fourteen men prisoners (whose lives the Buccaniers have private reasons of their own for preserving), to a place of confinement, which is unapproachable by strangers. They will be kept there until a certain day, previously agreed on between the Buccaniers at sea, and the Buccaniers on land. "If, by that time, no news from the party at sea, reaches the party on land, it will be taken for granted that the expedition which conveys away the silver and jewels has been met, engaged, and conquered by superior force; that the Treasure has been taken from its present owners; and that the Buccaniers guarding it, have been made prisoners, to be dealt with according to the law. " The absence of the expected news at the appointed time, being ina terrupted in this way, it will be the next object of the Buccaniers on land to take reprisals for the loss and the injury inflicted on their companions at sea. The lives of the women and children of the Island of SilverStore are absolutely at their mercy; and those lives will pay the forfeit,'if the Treasure is taken away, and if the men in possession of it come to harm.' This paper will be nailed to the lid of the largest chest taken from the Island.. Any officer whom the chances of war may bring within reading distance of it, is warned to pause and consider, before his conduct signs the death-warrant of the women and children of an English colony. "Signed, under the Black Flag, " PEDRO MENDEZ, "Commander of the Buccaniers, and Chief of the Guard over the English Prisoners." "The statement above written, is so far as it regards the situation we are now placed in, may be depended on as the truth. "Signed, on behalf of the imprisoned women and children of the Island of Silver-Store." "Beneath this last line," said Miss Maryon, pointing to it, "is a blank space, in which I am expected to sign my name." 48 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. " And in five minntes' time," added the Pirate Captain, who had stolen close up to us, "or the same consequences will follow which I had the pleasure of explaining to you a few minutes ago." He again drew out his watch and pistol; but, this time, it was my head that he touched with the barrel. "When Tom Packer spoke for himself, miss, a little while ago," I said, "please to consider that he spoke for me." "Another brave man I" said the Pirate Captain, with his ape's grin. "Am I to fire my pistol this time, or am I to put it back again as I did before?" Miss Maryon did not seem to hear him. Her kind eyes rested for a moment on my face, and then looked up to the bright Heaven above us. "Whether I sign, or whether I do not sign," she said, " we are still in the hands of God, and the future which His wisdom has appointed will not the less surely come."' With those words she placed the paper on my breast, signed it, and handed it back to the Pirate Captain. -" This is our secret, Davis," she whispered. " Let us keep the dreadful knowledge of it to ourselves as long as we can." I have another singular confession to make-I hardly expect any body to believe me when I mention the circumstance-but it is not the less the plain truth that, even in the midst of that frightful situation, I felt, for a few moments, a sensation of happiness while Miss Maryon's hand was holding the paper on my breast, and while her lips were telling me that there was a secret between us which we were to keep together. The Pirate Captain carried the signed paper at once to his mate. I" Go back to the Island," he says, " and nail that with your own hands on the lid of the largest chest. There is no occasion to hurry the business of shipping the Treasure, because there is nobody on the Island to make signals that may draw attention to it from the sea. I have provided for that; and I have provided for the chance of your being outmanceuvred afterwards, by English, or other cruisers. Here are your sailing orders" (he took them from his pocket while he spoke) " your di. rections for the disposal of the Treasure, and your appointment of the day and the place for communicating again with me and my prisoners. I have done my part-go you, now, and do yours." Hearing the clearness with which he gave his orders; knowing what the devilish scheme was that he had invented for preventing the recovery of the Treasure, even if our ships happened to meet and capture the pirates at sea; remembering what the look and the speech of him had been, when he put his pistol to my head and Tom Packer's; I began to understand how it was that this little, weak, weazen, wicked spider had got the first place and kept it among the villains about him. The mate moved off, with his orders, towards the sea. Before he got THE PRISON IN THE WOODS. 49 there, the Pirate Captain beckoned another of the crew to come to him; and spoke a few words in his own, or in some other foreign language. I guessed what they meant, when I saw thirty of the pirates told off together, and set in a circle all round us. The rest were marched away after the mate. In the same manner the Sambos.were divided next. Ten, including Christian George King, were left with us; and the others were sent down to the canoes. When this had been done, the Pirate Captain looked at his watch; pointed to some trees, about a mile off, which fringed the land as it rose from the beach; said to an American among the pirates round us, who seemed to hold the place of second mate, "In two hours from this time;" and then walked away briskly, with one of his men after him, to some baggage piled up on the beach. We were marched off at once to the shady place under the trees, and allowed to sit down there, in the cool, with our guard in a ring round us. Feeling certain from what 1 saw, and from what I knew to be contained in the written paper signed by Miss Maryon, that we were on the point of undertaking a long journey up the country, I anxiously examined my fellow prisoners, to see how fit they looked for encountering bodily hardship and fatigue; to say nothing of mental suspense and terror, over and above. With all possible respect for an official gentleman, I must admit that Mr. Commissioner Pordage struck me as being, beyond any comparison, the most helpless individual in our unfortunate company. What with the fright he had suffered, the danger he had gone through, and the bewilderment of finding himself torn clean away from his safe Government moorings, his poor unfortunate brains seemed to be as completely discomposed as his Diplomatic coat. He was perfectly harmless and quiet, but also perfectly light-headed —as anybody could discover who looked at his dazed eyes or listened to his maundering talk. I tried him with a word or two about our miserable situation; thinking that, if any subject would get a trifle of sense out of him, it must surely be that. "You will observe," said Mr. Pordage, looking at the torn cuffs of his Diplomatic coat instead of at me, "that I cannot take cognisance of our situation. No memorandum of it has been drawn up; no report in connexion with it has been presented to me. I cannot possibly recognise it until the necessary minutes and memorandums and reports have reached. me through the proper channels. When our miserable situation presents itself to me, on paper, I shall bring it under the notice of Government; and Government, after a proper interval, will bring it back again under my notice; and then I shall have something to say about it. Not a minute before, —lo, my man, not a minute before I" Speaking of Mr. Pordage's wanderings of mind, reminds me that it is necessary to say a word next, about the much more serious case of Serjeant Drooce. The cut on his head, acted on by the heat of the climate, 3 50 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLIStI PRISONERS. had driven him, to all appearance, stark mad. Besides the danger to himself, if he broke out before the Pirates, there was the danger to the women and children, of trusting him among them-a misfortune which, in our captive condition, it was impossible to avoid. Most providentially, however, (as I found on inquiry), Tom Packer, who had saved his life, had a power of controlling him, which none of the rest of us possessed. Some shattered recollection of the manner in which he had been preserved from death, seenmed to be still left in a corner of his memory. Whenever he showed symptoms of breaking out, Tom looked at him, and repeated with his hand and arm the action of cutting out right and left which had been the means of his saving the seljeant. On seeing that, Drooce always huddled himself up close to Tom, and fell silent. Wethat is, Packer and I —arranged it together that he was always to keep near Drooce, whatever happened, and however far we might be marched before we reached the place of our imprisonment. The rest of us inen-meaning Mr. Macey, Mr. Fisher, two of my comrades of the Marines, and five of the sloop's crew —were, making allow. ances for a little smarting in our wounds, in tolerable health, and not half so much broken in spirit by troubles, past, present, and to come, as some persons might be apt to imagine. As for the seamen, especially, no stranger who looked at their jolly brown faces, would ever have imagined that they were prisoners, and in peril of their lives. They sat together, chewing their quids, and looking out good-humoredly at the sea, like a gang of liberty men resting themselves on shore, " Take it easy, soldier," says one of them, seeing me looking at him. " And, if you can't do that, take it as easy as you can." I thought, at the time, that many a wiser man might have given me less sensible advice than this, though it was only offered by a boatswain's mate." A movement among the Pirates attracted my notice to the beach below us, and I saw their Captain approaching our halting-place, having changed his fine clothes for garments that were fit to travel in. His coming back to us had the effect of producing unmistakable signs of preparation for a long journey. Shortly after he appeared, three Indians came up, leading three loaded mules; and these were followed, in a few minutes, by two of the Sambos, carrying between them a copper full of smoking meat and broth. After having been shared among the Pirates, this mess was set down before us, with-some wooden bowls floating about in it, to dip out the food with. Seeing that we hesitated before touching it, the Pirate Captain recommended us not to be too mealy-mouthed, as that was meat from our own stores on the Island, and the last we were likely to taste for a long time to come. The sailors, without any more ado about it, professed their readiness to follow this advice, muttering among themselves that good meat was a good thing, though the devil himself had cooked it. The Pirate-Captain, then observing that we were all THE PRISON IN THE WOODS. 51 ready to accept the food, ordered the bonds that cbnfined the hands of us men to be loosened and cast off, so that we might help ourselves. After we had served the women and children, we fell to. It was a good meal —though I can't say that I myself had much appetite for it. Jack, to use his own phrase, stowed away a double allowance. The jolly faces of the seamen lengthened a good deal, however, when they found there was nothing to drink afterward but plain water. Onekof them, a fat man, named Short, went so far as to say that, in the turn' things seemed to have taken, he should like to make his will before he started, as the stoppage of his grog and the stoppage of his life, were two events that would occur uncommonly close together. When we had done, we were all ordered to stand up. The pirates approached me and the other men, to bind our arms again but, the Captain stopped them. "No," says he. "I want them to get on at a good pace; and they will do that best with their arms free. Now, prisoners," &e continued, addressing us, "I don't mean to have any lagging on the road. I have fed you up with good meat, and you have no excuse for not smepping out briskly-women, children, and all. You men are without weapons and without food, and you know nothing of the country you are going to travel through. If you are mad enough, in this helpless condition, to attempt escaping on the march, you will be shot, as sure as you all stand there, —and if the bullet misses, you will starve to death in forests that have no path and no end." Having addressed us in those words, he turned again to his men. I wondered then, as I had wondered once or twice already, what those private reasons might be, which he had mentioned in his written paper, for sparing the lives of us male prisoners. I hoped he would refer to them now-but I was disappointed. " While the country allows it," he went on, addressing his crew, "march in a square, and keep the prisoners inside. Whether it is man, woman, or child, shoot any one of them who tries to escape, on peril of being shot yourselves if you miss. Put the Indians and mules in front, and the Sambos next to them. Draw up the prisoners all together. Tell off seven men to march before them, and seven more for each side; and leave the other nine for the rear-guard. A fourth mule for me, when I get tired, and another Indian to carry my guitar." His guitar 1 To think of the murderous thief having a turn for strum. ming tunes, and wanting to cultivate it on such an expedition as ours I I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw the guitar brought forwardin a neat green case, with the piratical skull and cross-bones and the Pirate Captain's initials painted on it in white. "I can stand a good deal," whispers Tom Packer to me, looking hard r 52 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. at the guitar; "but con-found me, Davis, if it's not a trifle too much to be taken prisoner by such a fellow as that I" The Pirate Captain lights another cigar. "March I" says he, with a screech like a cat, and a flourish with his sword, of the sort that a stageplayer would give at the head of a mock army. We all moved off, leaving the clump of trees to the right, going, we knew not whither, to unknown sufferings and an unknown fate. The land that lay before us was wild and open, without fences or habitations. Here and there, cattle wandered about over it, and a few stray Indians Beyond, in the distance, as far as we could see, rose a prospect of mountains and forests. Above us, was the pitiless sun, in a sky that was too brightly blue to look at. Behind us, was the calm murmuring ocean with the dear island home which the women and children had lost, rising in the distance like a little green garden on the bosom of the sea. After halfan-hour's walking, we began to descend into the plain, and the last glimpse of the Island of Silver-Store disappeared from our view. The order of march which we prisoners now maintained among ourselves, being the order which, with certain occasional variations, we observed for the next three days, I may as well give some description of it in this place, before I get occupied with other things, and forget it. I myself, and the sailor I have mentioned under the name of Short, led the march. After us came Miss Maryon, and Mr. and Mrs. Macey. They were followed by two of my comrades of the Marines, with Mrs. Pordage, Mrs. Belltott, and two of the strongest of the ladies to look after them. Mr. Fisher, the ship's boy, and the three remaining men of the sloop's crew, with the rest of the women and children came next; Tom Packer, taking care of Serjeant Drooce, brought up the rear. So long as we got on quickly enough, the pirates showed no disposition to interfere with our order of march; but, if there were any signs of lagging -and God knows it was hard enough work for a man to walk under that burning sun I —the villains threatened the weakest of our company with the points of their swords. The younger among the children gave out, as might have been expected, poor things, very early on the march. Short and I set the example of taking two of them up, pick-a-back, which was followed directly by the rest of the men. Two of Mrs. Macey's three children' fell to our share; the eldest, travelling behind us on his father's back. Short hoisted the next in age, a girl, on his broad shoulders. I see him now as if it was yesterday, with the perspiration pouring down his fat face and bushy whiskers, rolling along as if he was on the deck of a ship, and making a sling of his neck-handkerchief, with his clever sailor's fingers to support the little girl on his back. "I expect you'll marry me, my darling, when you grow up," says he, in his oily, joking voice. Ard the poor child, in her innocence, laid her weary THE PRISON IN THHE WOODS. 53 head down on his shoulders, and gravely and faithfully promised that she would. A lighter weight fell to my share. I had the youngest of the children, the pretty little boy already mentioned, who had been deaf and dumb from his birth. His mother's voice trembled sadly, as she thanked me for taking him up, and tende'rly put his little dress right while she walked behind me. " He is very little and light of his age," says the poor lady, trying hard to speak steady. " He won't give you much tronuble, Davis, he has always been a very patient child from the first." The boy's little frail arms clasped themselves round my neck while she was speaking; and something or other seemed to stop in my throat the cheerful answer that I wanted to make. I walked on with what must have looked, I am afraid, like a gruff silence; the poor child humming softly on my back, in his unchanging, dumb way, till he hummed himself to sleep. Often and often, since that time, in dreams, I have felt those small arms round my neck again, and have heard that dumb, murmuring song in my ear, dying away fainter and fainter, tIll nothing was left but'the light breath rising and falling regularly on my cheek, telling me that my little fellowprisoner had forgotten his troubles in sleep. We marched, as well as I could guess, somewhere about seven miles that day-a short spell enough, judging by distance, but a terrible long one judging by heat. Our halting-place was by the banks of a stream, across which, at a little distance, some wild pigs were swimming as we came up. Beyond us, was the same view of forests and mountains that I have already mentioned; and all round us was a perfect wilderness of flowers. The shrubs, the bushes, the ground, all blazed again with magnificent colors, under the evening sun. When we were ordered to halt, wherever we set a child down, there that child had laps and laps full of flowers growing within reach of its hand. We sat on flowers, eat on flowers, slept at night on flowers-any chance handful of which would have been well worth a golden guinea among the gentlefolks in England. It was a sight not easily described, to see niggers, savages, and pirates, hideous, filthy, and'ferocious in the last degree to look at, squatting about grimly upon a natural carpet of beauty, of the sort that is painted in pictures with pretty fairies dancing on it. The mules were unloaded, and left to roll among the flowers to their hearts' content. A neat tent was set up for the Pirate Captain, at the door of which, after eating a good meal, he laid himself down in a languishing attitude, with a nosegay in the bosom of his waistcoat, and his guitar on his knees, and jingled away at the strings, singing foreign songs, with a shrill voice and with his nose conceitedly*%irned up in the air. I was obliged to caution S'lort and the sailors-or they would, to a dead certainty, have put all our lives in peril by openly laughing at him. We had but a poor supper that night. The Pirates now kept the pro 54 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. visions they had brought from the Island, for their own use; and we had to share the miserable starvation diet of the country, with the Indians and the Sambos. This consisted of black beans fried, and of things they call Tortillas, meaning, in plain English, flat cakes made of crushed Indian corn, and baked on a clay griddle. Not only was this food insipid, but the dirty manner in which the Indians prepared it, was disgusting. However, complaint was useless; for we could see for ourselves that jno other provision had been brought for the prisoners. I heard some grumbling among our men, and some little fretfulness among the children, which their mothers soon quieted. I myself was indifferent enough to the quality of the food; for I had noticed a circumstance, just before it was brought to us, which occupied my mind with more serious considerations. One of the mules was unloaded near us, and I observed among the baggage a large bundle of new axes, doubtless taken from some ship. After puzzling my brains for some time to know what they could be wanted for, I came to the conclusion that they were to be employed in cutting our way through, when we came to the forests. To think of the kind of traveling which these preparations promised-if the view I took of them was the right one-and then to look at the women and children, exhausted by the first day's march, was sufficient to make any man uneasy. It weighed heavily enough on my mind, I know, when I woke up among the flowers, from time to time that night. Our sleeping arrangements, though we had not a single civilized comfort, were, thanks to the flowers, simple and easy enough. For the first time in their lives, the women and children laid down together, with the sky for a roof, and the kind earth for a bed. We men shook ourselves down, as well as we could, all round them; and the Pirates relieving guard regularly, ranged themselves outside of all. In that tropical climate, and at that hot time, the night was only pleasantly cool. The bubbling of the stream, and, now and then, the course of the breeze through the flowers, was all we heard. Dnring the hours of darkness, it occurred to me —and I have no doubt the same idea struck my comrades-that a body of determined men, making a dash for it, might now have stood a fair chance of escaping. We were still near enough to the sea-shore to be certain of not losing our way; and the plairr was almost as smooth, for a good long run, as a natural race-course. However, the mere act of dwelling on such a notion, was waste of time and thought, situated as we were with regard to the women and children. They were, so to speak, the hostages who insured our submission to captivity, or to any other hardship that might be inflicted on us; a result which I have no doubt the Pirate Captain had ibreseen, when he made us all prisoners together on taking possession of the Island. We were roused up at fpur in the morning, to travel on before the heat set in; our march under yesterday's broiling sur. having been only under. TIHE PRISON IN THE WOODS. 55 taken for the purpose of getting us away from the sea-shore, and from possible help in that quarter, without loss of time. We forded the stream, wading through it waist-deep: except the children, who crossed on our shoulders. An hour before noon, we halted under two immense wild cotton trees, about half a mile from a little brook, which probably ran into the stream we had passed in the morning. Late in the afternoon we were on foot again, and encamped for the night at three deserted huts, built of mud and poles. There were the remains of an enclosure here, intended, as I thought, for cattle; and there was an old well, from which our supply of water was got. The greater part of the women were very tired and sorrowful that night; but Miss Maryon did wonders in cheering them up. On the third morning, we began to skirt the edge of a mountain, carrying our store of water with us from the well. We men prisoners had our full share of the burden. What with that, what with the way being all up-hill, and what with the necessity of helping on the weaker members of our company, that day's march was the hardest I remember to have ever got through. Towards evening, after resting again in the middle of the day, we stopped for the night on the verge of the forest. A dim, lowering, awful sight it was, to look up at the mighty wall of trees, stretching in front, and on either side of us without a limit and without a break. Through the night, though there was no wind blowing over our encampment, we heard deep, moaning, rushing sounds rolling about, at intervals, in the great inner wilderness of leaves; and, now and then, those among us who slept, were startled up by distant crashes in the depths of the forest-the death-knells of falling trees. We kept fires alight, in case of wild animals stealing out on us in the darkness; and the flaring red light, and the thick, winding smoke, alternately showed and hid the forestprospect in a strangely treacherous and ghostly way. The children shuddered with fear; even the Pirate Captain forgot, for the first time, to jingle his eternal guitar. When we were mustered in the morning for the march, I fully expected to see the axes unpacked. To my surprise they were not disturbed. The Indians drew their long chopping-knives (called machets in the language of that country); made for a place among the trees where I could see no signs of a path; and began cutting at the bushes and shrubs, and at the wild vines and creepers, twirling down together in all sorts of fantastic forms, from the lofty branches. After clearing a few dozen yards inwards they came out to us again, whooping and showing their wicked teeth, as they laid hold of the mules' halters to lead them on. The Pirate Captain, before we moved after, took out a pocket compass, set it, pondered over it for some tilme, shrugged his shoulders, and screeched out " March," as usual. We entered the forest, leaving behind us the last chance of escape, and the last hope of ever getting back to the regions of humanity 56 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. and civilization. By this time, we had walked inland, as nearly as I could estimate, about thirty miles. The order of our march was now, of necessity, somewhat changed. We all followed each other in a long line, shut in, however, as before, in front and in rear, by the Indians, the Sambos, and the pirates. Though none of us could see a vestige of any path, it was clear that our guides knew where they were going; for, we were never stopped by any obstacles, except the shrubs and wild-vines which they could cut through with their chopping-knives. Sometimes, we marched under the great branches which met like arches high over our heads. Sometimes, the boughs were so low that we had to stoop to pass under them. Sometimes, we wound in and out among'mighty trunks of trees, with their gnarled roots twisting up far above the ground, and with creepers in full flower twining down in hundreds from their lofty branches. The size of the leaves and the countless multitude of the trees shut out the sun, and made a solemn dimness which it was awful and without hope to walk through. Hours would pass without our hearing a sound but the dreary rustle of our own feet over the leafy ground. At other times, whole troops of parrots, with feathers of all the colors of the rainbow, chattered and shrieked at us; and processions of monkeys, fifty or sixty at a time, followed our progress in the boughs overhead: passing through the thick leaves with a sound like the rush of a steady wind. Every now and then, the children were startled by lizard-like creatures, three feet long, running up the trunks of the trees as we passed by them; more than once, swarms of locusts tormented us, startled out of their hiding-places by the monkeys in the boughs. For five days we marched incessantly: through this dismal forest-region, only catching a clear glimpse of the sky above us, on three occasions in all that time. The distance we walked each day seemed to be regulated by the positions of springs and streams in the forest, which the Indians knew of. Sometimes those springs and streams lay near together; and our day's work was short. Sometimesthey were far apart; and the march was long and weary. On all occasions, two of the Indians, followed by two of the Sambos, disappeared as soon as we encamped for the night; and returned, in a longer or shorter time, bringing water with them. Towards the latter part of the journey, weariness had so completely mastered the weakest among our company, that they ceased to take notice of anything. They walked without looking to the right or to the left, and they eat their wretched food and lay down to sleep with a silent despair that was shocking. Mr. Pordage left off maundering now, and Serjeant Drooce was so qhiet and biddable, that Tom Packer had an easy time of it with him at last. Those among us who still talked, began to get a habit of dropping our voices to a whisper. Short's jokes languished and dwindled; Miss Maryon's voice, still kind and tender as ever, began to lose its clearness; and the poor children, when they got THE PRISON IN THE WOODS. 53 weary and cried, shed tears silently, like old people. It seemed as if the darkness and the hush of the endless forest had cast its shadow on our spirits, and had stolen drearily into our inmost hearts. On the sixth day, we saw the blessed sunshine on the ground before us, once more. Prisoners as we were, there was a feeling of freedom on stepping into the light again, and on looking up, without interruption, into the clear blue heaven, from which nothuman creature can keep any other human creature, when the time comes for rising to it. A turn in the path brought us out suddenly at an Indian village-a wretched place, made up of two rows of huts built with poles, the crevices between them stopped with mud, and the roofs thatched in the coarsest manner with palm-leaves. The savages squatted about, jumped to their feet in terror as we came in view; but, seeing the Indians at the head of our party, took heart, and began chattering and screeching, just like the parrots we had left in the forest. Our guides answered in their gibberish; some lean, half-wild dogs yelped and howled incessantly; and the Pirates discharged their pnuskets and loaded them again, to make sure that their powder had not got damp on the march. No want of muskets among them now i The poise and the light and the confusion, after the silence, darkness, and discipline that we had been used to for the last five days, so bewildered us all, that it was quite a relief to sit down on the ground and let the guard about us shut out our view on every side. "Davis I Are we at the end of the march?" says Miss Maryon, touching my arm. The other women looked anxiously at me, as she put the question. I got on my feet, and saw the Pirate Captain communicating with the Indians of the village. His hands were making signs in the fussy foreign way, all the time he was speaking. Sometimes, they pointed away to where the forest began again beyond us; and sometimes they went up both together to his mouth, as if he was wishful of getting a fresh supply of the necessaries of life. My eyes next turned toward the mules. Nobody was employed in unpacking the baggage; nobody went near that bundle of axes which had weighed on my mind so much already, and the mystery of which still;ormented me in secret. I came to the conclusion that we were not yet fat the end of our journey; I communicated my opinion to Miss Maryon. She got up herself, with my help, and looked about her, and made the remark, very justly, that all the huts in the village would not suffice to hold us. At the same time I pointed out to her that the mule which the Pirate Captain had ridden had been relieved of his saddle, and was being led away, at that moment, to a patch of grass behind one of the huts. "That looks as if we were not going much further on," says I. "Thank heaven if it be so, for the sake of the poor children I" says Miss Maryon. "Davis, suppose something happened which gave us a 58 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. chance of escaping, Do you think we could ever find onr way back to the sea?" "' Not a hope of getting back, miss. If the pirates were to let us go this very instant, those pathless forests would keep us in prison for ever." " To true I Too true!" she said, and said no more. In another half-hour we were roused up, and marched away from the village (as I thought we should be) into the forest again. This time though there was by no means so much cutting through the underwood needed as in our previous experience, we were accompanied by at least a dozen Indians, who seemed to me to be following us out of sheer idleness and curiosity. We had walked, as well as I could calculate, more than an hour, and I was trudging along with the little deaf-and-dumb boy on my back, as usual, thinking, not very hopefully of our future prospects, when I was startled by a moan in my ear from the child. One of his arms was trembling round my neck, and the other pointed away toward my right hand. I looked in that direction-and there, as if it had started up out of the ground to dispute our passage through the forest, was a hideous monster carved in stone, twice my height at least. The thing loomed out of a ghostly white, against the dark curtain of trees all round it. Spots of rank moss stuck about over its great glaring stone face; its stumpy hands were tucked up into its breast; its legs and feet were four times the size of any human limbs; its body and the fiat space of spare stone which rose above its head, were all covered with mysterious deviceslittle grinning men's faces, heads of crocodiles and apes, twisting knots and twirling knobs, strangely shaped leaves, winding lattice-work; legs, arms, fingers, toes, skulls, bones and such like. The monstrous statue leaned over on one side, and was only kept from falling to the ground by the roots of a great tree which had wound themselves all round the lower half of it. Altogether, it was as horrible and ghastly an object to come upon suddenly, in the unknown depths of a great forest, as the mind (or at all events, my mind) can conceive. When I say that the first meeting with the statue struck me speechless, nobody can wonder that the children actually screamed with terror at the sight of it. "It's only a great big doll, my darling," says Short, at his wit's end how to quiet the little girl on his back. "We'll get a nice soft bit of wood soon, and show these nasty savages how to make a better one." While he was speaking, Miss Maryon was close behind me, soothing the deaf-and-dumb Soy by signs which I could not understand. "I have heard of these things, Davis," she says. "They are idols, made by a lost race of people, who lived no one can say how many hundred or how many thousand years ago. That hideous thing was carved and worshipped while the great tree that now supports it was yet a seed in the ground. We must get the children used to these stone monsters. I believe we are coming to many more of them. I believe we are close THE PRISON IN THE WOODS. 59 to the remains of one of those mysterious ruined cities w',ich have long been supposed to exist in this part of the world." Before I could answer, the word of command from the rear drove us on again. In passing the idol, some of the Pirates fired their muskets at it. The echos from the reports rang back on us with a sharp rattling sound. We pushed on a few paces, when the Indians a-head suddenly stopped, flourished their chopping-knives, and all screamed out together "El Palacio!" The Englishmen among the Pirates took up the cry, and, running forward through the trees on either side of us, roared out, "The Palace I" Other voices joined theirs in other tongues; and, for a minute or two, there was a general confusion of everybody,-the first that had occurred since we were marched away, prisoners, from the sea-shore. I tightened my hold of the child on my back; took Miss Maryon closer to ine, to save her from being roughly jostled by the men about us; and marched up as near to the front as the press and the trees would let me. Looking over the heads of the Indians, and between the trunks, I beheld a sight which I shall never forget: no, not to my dying day. A wilderness of ruins spread out before me, overrun by a forest of trees. In every direction, look where I would, a frightful confusion of idols, pillars, blocks of stone, heavy walls, and flights of steps, met my eye; some, whole, and upright; others, broken and scattered on the ground; and all, whatever their condition, overgrown and clasped about by roots, branches, and curling vines, that writhed round them like so many great snakes. Every here and there, strange buildings stood up, with walls on the tops of which three men might have marched abreastbuildings with their roofs burst off or tumbled in, and with the trees springing up from inside, and waving their restless shadows mournfully over the ruins. High in the midst of this desolation, towered a broad platform of rocky earth, scarped away on three sides, so as to make it unapproachable except by scaling ladders. On the fourth side, the flat of the platform was reached by a flight of ston~steps, of such mighty size and strength that they might have been made for the use of a race of giants. They led to a huge building girded all round with a row of thick pillars, long enough and broad enough to cover the whole flat space of ground; solid enough, as to the walls, to stand for ever; but broken in, at most places, as to the roof; and overshadowed by the trees that sprang up from inside, like the smaller houses already mentioned, below it. This was the dismal ruin which was called the Palace; and this was the Prison in the Woods which was to be the place of our captivity. The screeching voice of the Pirate Captain restored order in our ranks, and sent the Indians forward with their chopping-knives to the steps of the Palace. We were directed to follow them across the ruins, and in and out among the trees. Out of every ugly crevice crack in the great stairs, there sprouted up flowers, long grasses, and beautiful large-leaved 60 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. plants and bushes. When we had toiled to the the top of the flight, we could look back from the height over the dark waving top of the forest behind us. More than a glimpse of the magnificent sight, however, was not allowed: we were ordered still to follow the Indians. They had already disappeared in the inside of the Palace; and we went in after them. We found ourselves, first, under a square portico, supported upon immense flat slabs of stone, which were carved all over, at top and bottom, with death's-head set in the midst of circles of sculptured flowers. I guessed the length of the portico to be, at the very least, three hundred feet. In the inside wall of it, appeared four high gaping doorways; three of them were entirely choked up by fallen stones: so jammed together, and so girt about by roots and climbing plants, that no force short of a blast of gunpowder, could possibly have dislodged them. The fourth entrance had, at some former time, been kept just clear enough to allow of the passing of one man at once through the gap that had been made in the fallen stones. Through this, the only passage left into the Palace, or out of it, we followed the Indians into a great hall, nearly one half of which was still covered by the remains of the roof. In the unsheltered half: surrounded by broken stones and with a carved human head, five times the size of life, leaning against it; rose the straight, naked trunk of a beautiful tree, that shot up high above the ruins, and dropped its enormous branches from the very top of it, bending down toward us, in curves like plumes of immense green feathers. In this hall, which was big enough to hold double our number, we were ordered to make a halt, while the Pirate Captain, accompanied by three of his crew, followed the Indians through a doorway, leading off to the left hand, as we stood with our backs to the portico. In fiont of us, toward the right, was another doorway, through which we could see some of the Indians, cutting away with their knives, right and left, at the overspreading underwood, ]Wen the noise of the hacking, and the hum and murmur of the people outside, who were unloading the mules, seemed to be sounds too faint and trifling to break the awful stillness of the ruins. To my ears, at least, the unearthly silence was deepened rather than broken by the few feeble sounds which tried to disturb it. The wailings of the poor children were stifled within them. The whispers of the women, and the heavy breathing of the overlabored men, sank and sank gradually till they were heard no more. Looking back now, at the whole course of our troubles, I think I can safely say that nothing —not even the first discovery of the treachery on the Islandtried our courage and endurance like that interval of speechless waiting in the Palace, with the hush of the ruined city, and the dimness of the endless forest, all about us. When we next saw the Pirate Captain, he appeared at the doorway to THE PRISON IN TIHE WOODS. 61 the right, just as the Pirates began to crowd in from, the portico, with the baggage they had taken from the mules. " There is the way for the Buccaniers," squeaks the Pirate Captain, Addressing the American mate, and pointing to the doorway on the left. " Three big rooms, that will hold you all,-and that have more of the roof left on them than any of the others. The prisoners," he continues, turning to us, and pointing to the doorway behind him, " will file in that way and will find two rooms for them, with the ceilings on the floor, and the trees in their places. I myself, because my soul is big, shall live alone in this grand hall. My bed shall be there in the sheltered corner; and I shall eat and drink and smoke, and sing and enjoy myself, with one eye always on my prisoners, and the other eye always on my guard outside. Having delivered this piece of eloquence, he pointed with his sword to the prisoner's doorway. We all passed through it quickly, glad to be out of the sight and hearing of him. The two rooms set apart for us, communicated with each other. The inner one of the two had a second doorway, leading, as I supposed, further into the building, but so choked up by rubbish, as to be impassable, except by climbing, and that must have been skilful climbing too. Seeing that this accident cut off all easy means of appronch to the room from the Pirates' side, we determined, supposing nobody meddled with us, to establish the womene and children here; and to take the room nearest to the Pirate Captain and his guard for ourselves. The first thing to be done was to clear away the rubbish in the women's room. The ceiling, was, indeed, as the Pirate Captain had told us, all on the floor; and the growth of trees, shrubs, weeds, and flowers, spring ing up everywhere among the fragments of stone, was so prodigious in this part of the Palace, that, but for the walls with their barbarous sculp tures all round, we should certainly have believed ourselves to be en camped in the forest, without a building near us. All the lighter parts of the rubbish in the women's room we disposed of, cleverly, by piling it in the doorway on the Pirate's side, so as to make any approach from that direction all but impossible, even by climbing. The heavy blocks of stone-and it took two men to lift some of them that were not the heaviest — we piled up in the middle of the floor. Having by this means cleared away plenty of space around the walls, we gathered up all the litter of young branches, bushes, and leaves which the Indiains had chopped away; added to them as much as was required of the underwood still standing; and laid the whole smooth and even to make beds. I noticed, while we were at this work, that the ship's boy-whose name was Robert —was particularly helpful and considerate with the children, when it became necessary to quiet them and to get them to lie down. He was a rough boy to look at, and not very sharp; but, he managed better, and was more naturally tender-hearted with the little ones than any of the rest of 62 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. us. This may seem a small thing to mention; but Robert's attentive ways with the children, attached them to him; and that attachment, as will be hereafter shown, turned out to be of great benefit to us, at a very dangerous and very important time. Our next piece of work was to clear our own room. It was close at the side of the Palace; and a break in the outward wall looked down over the sheer precipice on which the building stood. We stopped this up, breast high, in case of accidents, with the rubbish on the floor; we then made our beds, just as we had made the women's beds already. A little later, we heard the Pirate Captain in the hall which he kept to himself for his big soul and his little body, giving orders to the American mate about the guard. On mustering the Pirates, it turned out that two of them, who had been wounded in the fight on the Island, where unfit for duty. Twenty-eight, therefore, remained. These, the Pirate Captain divided into companies of seven, who were to mount guard, in turn, for a spell of six hours each company: the relief coming round, as a matter of course, four times in the twenty-four hours. Of the guard of seven, two were stationed under the portico; one was placed as a look-out, on the top landing of the great flight of steps; and two were appointed to patrol the ground below, in front of the Palace. This left only two men to watch the three remaining sides of the building. So far as any risks of attack were concerned, the precipices at the back and sides of the Palace were a sufficient defence for it, if a good watch was kept on the weak side. But what the Pirate Captain dreaded was the chance of our escaping; and he would not trust the precipices to keep us, knowing we had sailors in our company, and suspecting that they might hit on some substitute for ropes, and lower themselves and their fellow-prisoners down from the back or the'sides of the Palace, in the dark. Accordingly, the Pirate Captain settled it that two men out of each company should do double duty, after nightfall: the choice of them to be decided by casting dice. This gave four men to patrol round the sides and the back of the building: a sufficient number to keep a bright look-out. The Pirates murmured a little at the prospect of double duty; but, there was no remedy for it. The Indians, having a superstitious horror of remaining in the ruined city after dark, had bargained to be allowed to go back to their village, every afternoon. And, as for the Sambos, the Pirate Captain knew them better than the English had known them at Silver-Store, and would have nothing to do with them in any matter of importance. The setting of the watch was completed without much delay. If any of us had felt the slightest hope of escaping, up to this time, the position of our prison and the number of sentinels appointed to guard it, would have been more than enough to extinguish that hope for ever. An hour before sunset, the Indians-whose only business at the Palace was to supply us with food from the village, and to prepare the food for THE PRISON IN THE WOODS. 63 eating-made their last batch of Tortillas, and then left the ruins in a body, at the usual trot of those savages when they are travelling in a hurry. When the sun had set, the darkness came down upon us, I might almost say, with a rush. Bats whizzed about, and the low warning hum of Mosqritos sounded close to our ears., Flying beetles, with lights in their heads, each light as bright as the light of a dozen glowworms, sparkled through the darkness, in a wonderful manner, all night long. When one of them settled on the walls, he lighted up the hideous sculptures for a yard afl round him, at the very least. Outside, in the forest, the dreadful stillness seemed to be drawing its breath, from time to time, when the nightwind swept lightly through the million-million leaves. Sometimes, the surge of monkeys travelling through the boughs, burst out with a sound like waves on a sandy shore; sometimes, the noise of falling branches and trunks rang out suddenly with a crash, as if the great ruins about us were splitting into pieces; sometimes, when the silence was at its deepest-when even the tread of the watch outside had ceased-the quick rustle of a lizard or a snake, sounded treacherously close at our ears. It was long before the children in the women's room were all quieted and hushed to sleep-longer still before we, their elders, could compose our spirits for the night. After all sounds died away among us, and when I thought that I was the only one still awake, I heard Miss Maryon's voice saying, softly, "God help and deliver us I" A man in our room, moving on his bed of leaves, repeated the words after her; and the ship's boy, Robert, half-asleep, half-awake, whispered to himself sleepily, "Amen!" After that, the silence returned upon us, and was broken no more. So the night passed-the first night in our Prison in the Woods. With the morning, came the discovery of a new project of the Pirate Captain's, for which none of us had been prepared. Soon after sunrise, the Pirate Captain looked into our room, and ordered all the men in it out into the large hall, where he lived with his big soul and his little body. After eyeing us narrowly, he directed three of the sailors, myself, and two of my comrades, to step apart from the rest. When we had obeyed, the bundle of axes which had troubled my mind so much, was brought into the hall; and four men of the guard, then on duty, armed with muskets and pistols, were marched in afterwards. Six of the axes were chosen and put into our hands, the Pirate Captain pointing warningly, as we took them, to the men with fire-arms in the front of us. He and his mate, both armed to the teeth, then led the way out to the steps; we followed; the other four Pirates came after us. Wre were formed, down the steps, in single file; the Pirate Captain at the head; I myself next to him; a Pirate next to me; and so on to the end, in such order as to keep a man with a loaded musket between 64 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. each one or two of us prisoners. I looked behind me as we started, and saw two of the Sambos —that Christian George King was one of th6efollowing us. We marched round the back of the Palace, and over the ruins beyond it, till we came to a track thronugh the forest, the first I had seen. After a quarter of an hour's walking, I saw the sunlight, bright beyond the trees in front of us. In another minute or two, we stood under the clear sky, and beheld at our feet a broad river, running with a swift silent current, and overshadowed by the forest, rising as thick as ever on the bank that was opposite to us. On the bank where we stood, the trees were young; some great tempest of past years having made havoc in this part of the forest, and torn away the old growth to make room for the new. The young trees grew up, mostly, straight and slender, —that is to say, slender for South America, the slightest of them being, certainly, as thick as my leg. After peeping and peering about at the timber, with the look of a man who owned it all, the Pirate Captain sat himself down cross-legged on the grass, and did us the honor to address us. "Aha I you English, what do you think I have kept you alive for?" says he. "Because I am fond of you? Bah I Because I don't like to kill you? Bah I What for, then? Because I want the use of your arms to work for me. See those trees!" Hle waved his hand backwards and forwards, over the whole prospect. "Cut them all down-lop off the branches-smooth them into poles-shape them into beams-chop them into planks. Camarado!" he went on, turning to the mate, "I mean to roof in the Palace again, and. to lay new floors over the rubbish of stones. I will make the big house good and dry to live in, in the rainy weather-I will barricade the steps of it for defence against an army,-I will make it my strong castle of retreat for me and my men, and our treasure, and our prisoners, and all that we have, when the English cruisers of the devil get too many for us along the coast. To work, you six I Look at those four men of mine,-their muskets are loaded. Look at these two Sambos who will stop here to fetch help if they want it. Remember the women and children you have left at the Palace-and at your peril and at their peril, turn those axes in your hands from their proper work I You understand? You English fools?" With those words he jumped to his feet, and ordered the niggers to remain and place themselves at the orders of our guard. Having given these last directions, and having taken his mate's opinion as to whether three of the Buccaniers would not be enough to watch the Palace in the day, when the six stoutest men of the prisoners were away from it, the Pirate Captain offered his little weazen arm to the American, and strutted back to his castle, on better terms with himself than ever. As soon as he and the mate were gone, Christian George King tumbled THE PRISON IN THE WOODS. 65 himself down on the grass, and kicked up his ugly heels in convulsions of delight. "Oh, golly, golly, golly I" says he. "You dam English do work, and Christian George King 16oo on. Yup, Sojeer! whack at them tree I" I paid no attention to the brute, being better occupied in noticing my next comrade, Short. I had remarked that all the while the Pirate Captain was speaking, he was looking hard at the river, as if the sight of a large sheet of water did his sailorly eyes good. When we began to use the axes, greatly to my astonishment, he bucklecd to at his work like a man who had his whole heart in it: chuckling to himself at every chop, and wagging his head as if he was in the forecastle again telling his best yarns.'" You seem to be in spirits, -Short?" I says, setting-to on a tree close by him. "The river's put a notion in my head," says he. "Chop away, Gill, as hard as you can, or they may hear us talking." "What notion has the river put in your head?" I asked that man, following his directions. " You don't know where that river runs to, I suppose?", says Short. "No more don't 1. But, did it say anything particular to you, Gill, when you first set eyes on it? It said to me, as'plain as words could speak,' I'm the road out of this. Come and try me I'-Steady! Don't stop to look at the water. Chop away, man, chop away." " The road out of this?" says I. "A road without any coaches, Short. I don't see so much as the ruins of one old canoe lying about anywhere." Short chuckles again, and buries his axe in his tree. " What are we cutting down these here trees for?" says he. "Roofs and floors for the Pirate Captain's castle," says I. "Rafts for ourselves /" says he, with another tremendous chop at the tree, which brought it to the ground —the first that had fallen. His words struck through me as if I had been shot. For the first time since our imprisonment I now saw, clear as daylight, a chance of escape. Only a chance, to be sure; but, still a chance. Although the guard stood'several paces away from us, and could by no possibility hear a word that we said, through the noise of the axes, Short was too cautious to talk any more. "Wait till night, he said," lopping the branches off the tree. "Pass the word on in a whisper to the nearest of our men to work with a will; and say, with a wink of your eye, there's a good reason for it. After we had been allowed to knock off for that day, the Pirates had no cause to complain of the work we had done; and they reported us to the Pirate Captain as obedient and industrious, so far. When we lay down at night, I took the next place on the leaves to Short. We waited till the rest were asleep, and till we heard the Pirate Captain snoring in 4 66 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. the great hall, before we began to talk again about the river and the rafts. This is the amount of what Short whispered in my ear on that occasion: He told me he had calculated that it woild take two large rafts to bear all our company, and that timber enough to make such two rafts might be cut down by six meu in ten days, or, at most, in a fortnight. As for the means of fastening the rafts-the lashings, he called themthe stout vines and creepers supplied them abundantly; and the timbers of both rafts might be connected together in this way, firmly enough for river navigation, in about five hours. That was the yery shortest time the job would take, done by the willing hands of men who knew that they were working for their lives, said Short. These were the means of escape. How to turn them to account was the next question. Short could not anlswer it; and though I tried all that night, neither could I. The difficulty was one which, I think, might have puzzled wiser heads than ours. How were six-and-thirty living souls (being the number of us prisoners, including the children) to be got out of the Palace safely, in the face of the guard that watched it? And, even if that was accomplished, when could we count on gaining five hours all to ourselves for the business of making the rafts? The compassing either of these two designs, absolutely necessary as they both were to our escape, seemed to be nothing more or less than a rank impossibility. Towards morning, I got a wild notion into my head about letting ourselves down from the back of the Palace, in the dark, and taking our chance of being able to seize the sentinels at that part of the building, unawares, and gag them before they could give the alarm to the Pirates in front. But Short, when I mentioned my plan to him, would not hear of it. He said that men by themselves-provided they had not got a madman, like Drooce, and a maundering old gentleman, like Mr. Pordage, among them —might, perhaps, run such desperate risk as I proposed; but, that letting women and children, to say nothing of Drooce and Pordage, down a precipice in the dark, with make-shift ropes, which might give way at a moment's notice, was out of the question. It was impossible, on further reflection, not to see that Short's view of the matter was the right one. I acknowledged as much, and then I put it to Short whether our wisest course would not be to let one or two of the sharpest of our fellow-prisoners into our secret, and see what they said. Short asked me which two I had in my mind when I made that proposal? " Mr. Macey," says I, "-because he is naturally quick, and has improverl his gifts by learning, and Miss Maryon —-—." " Hoi can a woman help us?" says Short, breaking in on me. " A woman with a clear head and a high courage and a patient resolution-all of which Miss Maryon has got, above all the world-may do THE PRISON IN THE WOODS. 6, more to help us in our present strait, than any man in our company," says I. " Well," says Short, " I dare say you're right. Speak to anybody you please, Gill; but, whatever you do, man, stick to it at the trees. Let's get the timber down-that's the first thing to be done, anyhow." Before we were mustered for work, I took an opportunity of privately mentioning to Miss Maryon and Mr. Macey what had passed between Short and me. They were both thunderstruck at the notion of the rafts. MA.iss Maryon, as I had expected, made lighter of the terrible difficulties in the way of carrying out our scheme than Mr. Macey did. "We are left here to watch and think all day," she whispered-and I could almost hear the quick beating of her heart. " While you are making the best of your time among the trees, we will make the best of ours in the Palace.' I can say no more, now-I can hardly speak at all for thinking of what you have told me. Bless you, bless you, for making me hope once more! Go now-we must not risk the consequences of t)eing seen talking together. When you come back at night, look at me. If I close my eyes, it is a sign that nothing has been thought of yet. If I keep them open, take the first safe opportunity of speaking secretly to me or to Mr. Macey. She turned away; and I went back to my comrades. Half an hour afterwards, we were off for our second day's work among the trees. When we came back, I looked at Miss Maryon. She closed her eyes. So, nothing had been thought of, yet. Six more days we worked at cutting down the trees, always meriting the same good character for industry from our Pirate-guard. Six more evenings I looked at Miss Maryon; and six times her closed eyes gave me the same disheartening answer. On the ninth day of our work, Short whispered to me, that if we plied our axes for three days longer, he considered we should have more than timber enough down, to make the rafts. He had thought of nothing, I had thought of nothing, Miss Maryon and Mr. Macey had thought Sothing. I was beginning to get low in spirits; but, Short, was just as cool and easy as ever. "Chop away, Davis," was all he said. "The river won't run dry yet awhile. Chop away I" We knocked off earlier than usual that day, the Pirates having a feast in prospect, off a wild hog. It was still broad daylight (out of the forest) when we came back, and when I looked once more in Miss Maryon's face. I saw a flush in her cheeks; and her eyes met mine brightly. My heart beat quicker at the glance of them; for I saw that the time had come, and that the difficulty was conquered. We waited till the light was fading, and the Pirates were in the midst THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. of their feast. Then, she beckoned me into the inner room, and I sat down by her in the dimmest corner of it. "You have thought of something at last, Miss?" "I have. But the merit of the thought is not all mine. Chanceno I Providence-suggested the design; and the instrument with which its merciful MWisdom has worked, is-a child." bhe stopped, and looked all round her anxiously, before she went on " This afternoon," she says, "I was sitting against the trunk of that tree, thinking of what has been the subject of my thoughts, ever since you spoke to me. My sister's little girl was whiling away the tedious tims, by asking Mr. Kitten to tell her the names of the different plants which are still left growing about the room. You know he is a learned man in such matters?" I knew that; and have, I believe, formerly given that out, for my Lady to take in writing.' I was too much occupied," she went on, "to pay attention to them, till they came close to the tree against which I was sitting. Under it and about it, there grew a plant with very elegantly-shaped leaves, and with a kind of berry on it. The child showed it to Mr. Kitten; and saying,'Those berries look good to eat,' stretched out her hand towards them. Mr. Kitten stopped her.'You must never touch that,' he said.'Why not?' the child asked.'Because if you eat much of it, it would poison you.''And if I only eat a little?' said the child, laughing.'If you only eat a little,' said Mr. Kitten,' it- would throw you into a deep sleep-a sleep that none of us could wake you from, when it was time for breakfast-a sleep that would make your mama think you were dead.' Those words were hardly spoken, when the thought that I have now to tell you of, flashed across my mind. But, before I say anything more, answer me one question. Am I right in supposing that our attempt at escape must be made in the night?" "At'night, certainly," says I, "because we can be most sure, then, that the Pirates off guard are all in this building, and not likely to leave it." " I understand. Now, Davis, hear what I have observed of the habits of the men who keep us imprisoned in this place. The first change of guard at night, is at nine o'clock. At that time, seven men come in from watching, and nine men (the extra night-guard) go out to replace them; each party being on duty, as you know, for six hours. I have observed, at the nine o'clock change of guard, that the seven men who come off duty and the nine who go on, have a supply of baked cakes of Indian corn, reserved expressly for their use. They divide the food between them; the Pirate Captain (who is always astir at the change of guard) generally taking a cake for himself, when the rest of the men take theirs. TIHE PRISON IN THE WOODS. 69 This makes altogether, seventeen men who partake of food especially reserved for them, at nine o'clock. So far you understand me?" " Clearly, Miss." " The next thing I have noticed, is the manner in which that food is prepared. About two hours before sunset, the Pirate Captain walks out to smoke, after he has eaten the meal which he calls his dinner. In his absence from the hall, the Indians light their fire on the unsheltered side of it, and prepare the last batch of food before they leave us for the night. They knead up two separate masses of dough. The largest is the first which isseparated into cakes and baked. That is taken for the use of us prisoners and of the men who are off duty all night. The second and smaller piece of dough is then prepared for the nine o'clock change of guard. On that food —come nearer, Davis, I must say it in a wifisper-on that food all our chances of escape now turn. If we can drug it unobserved, the Pirates who go off duty, the Pirates who go on duty, and the Captain, who is more to be feared than all the rest, will be as absolutely insensible to our leaving the Palace, as if they were every one of them dead men." I was unable to speak-I was unable even to fetch my breath at those words. "I have taken Mr. Kitten, as a matter of necessity, into our confidence," she said. "I have learnt from him a simple way of obtaining the juice of that plant which he forbade the child to eat. I have also made myself acquainted with the quantity which it is necessary to use for our purpose; and I have resolved that no hands but mine shall be charged with the work of kneading it into the dough." " Not you, Miss,-not you. Let one of us-let me-run that risk." "' ou have work enough and risk enough already," said Miss Maryon. " It is time that the women, for whom you have suffered and ventured so much, should take their share. Besides, the risk is not great, where the Indians only are concerned. They are idle and curious. I have seen, with my own eyes, that they are as easily tempted away from their occupation by any chance sight or chance noise as if they were children; and I have already arranged with Mr. Macey that he is to excite their curiosity by suddenly pulling down one of the loose stones in that doorway, when the right time comes. The Indians are certain to run in here to find out what is the matter. Mr. Macey will tell them that he has seen a snake, —they will hunt for the creature (as I have seen them hunt, over and over again, in this ruined place)-and while they are so engaged, the opportunity that I want, the two minutes to myself, which are all that I require, will be mine. Dread the Pirate Captain, Davis, for the slightest caprice of his may ruin all our hopes,-but never dread the Indians, and never doubt me." o0 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONER Nobody, who had looked in her face at that moment —or at any mot ment that ever I knew of-could have doubted her. "There is one thing more," she went on. "When is the attempt tV be made?" "In three days' time," I answered; "there will be timber enough down to make the rafts." "In three days' time, then, let us decide the question of our freedom or our death." She spoke those words with a firmness that amazed me. "Rest now," she said. " Rest and hope." The third day was the hottest we had yet experienced; we were kept longer at work than usual; and when we had done, we left on the bank enough, and more than enough, of timber and poles, to make.both the rafts. - The Indians had gone when we got back to the Palace, and the Pirate Captain was still smoking on the flight of steps. As we crossed the hall, I looked on one side and saw the Tortillas set up in a pile, waiting for the men who came in and went out at nine o'clock. At the door which opened between our room and the women's room, Miss Maryon was waiting for us. " Is it done?" I asked in a whisper. " It is done," she answered. It was, then, by Mr. Macey's watch (which he had kept hidden about him throughout our imprisonment,) seven o'clock. We had two hours to wait; hours of surpense, but hours of rest also for the overworked men who had been cutting the wood. Before I lay down, I looked into the inner room. The women were all sitting together; and I saw by the looks they cast on me that Miss Maryon had told them of what was coming with the night. The children were much as usual, playing quiet games among themselves. In the men's room, I noticed that Mr. Macey had posted himself along with Tom Packer, close to Serjeant Drooce, and that Mr. Fisher seemed to be taking great pains to make himself agreeable to Mr. Pordage. I was glad to see that the two gentlemen of the company, who were quick-witted and experienced in most things, were already taking in hand the two unreasonable men. The evening brought no coolness with it. The heat was so oppressive that we all panted under it. The stillness in the forest was awful. We could almost hear the falling of the leaves. Half-past seven, eight, half-past eight, a quarter to nine -Nine. The tramp of feet came up the steps on one side, and the tramp of feet came into the hall, on the other. There was a confusion of voices,-then, the voice of the Pirate Captain, speaking in his own language,-then, the voice of the American mate, ordering out the guard, —then silence. I crawled to the door of our room, and laid myself down behind it, where I,could see a strip of the hall, being that part of it in which the THE PRISON IN THE WOODS., } way out was situated. Here, also, the Pirate Captain's tent had been set up, about twelve or fourteen feet from the door. Two torches were burning before it. By their light, I saw the guard on duty file out, each man munching his Tortilla, and each man grumbling over it. At the same time, in the part of the hall which I could not see, I heard the men off duty grumbling also. The Pirate Captain, who had entered his tent the minute before, came out of it, and calling to the American mate, at the far end of the hall, asked sharply in English, what that murmuring meant. "The men complain of the Tortillas," the mate tells him. " They say, they are nastier than ever to-night." "Bring me one, and let me taste it," said the Captain. I had often before heard people talk of their hearts being in their mouths, but I never really knew what the sensation was, till I heard that order given. The Tortilla was brought to him. He nibbled a piece off it, spat the morsel out with disgust, and threw the rest of the cake away. "Those Indian beasts have burnt the Tortillas," he said, " and their dirty hides shall suffer for it to-morrow morning." With those words, he whisked round on his heel, and went back into his tent. Some of the men had crept up behind me, and, looking over my head, had seen what I saw. They passed the account of it in whispers to those who could not see; and they, in their turn, repeated it to the women. In five minutes everybody in the two rooms knew that the scheme had failed with the very man whose sleep it was most important to secure. I heaYd no stifled crying among the women or stifled cursing among the men. The despair of that time was too deep for tears, and too deep for words. I myself could not take my eyes off the tent. In a little while he came out of it again, puffing and panting with the heat. He lighted a cigar at one of the torches, and laid himself down on his cloak just inside the doorway leading into the portico, so that all the air from outside might blow over him. Little as he was, he was big enough to lie right across the narrow way out. He smoked and he smoked, slowly and more slowly, for, what seemed to me to be, hours, but for what, by the watch, was little more than ten minutes after all. Then the: cigar dropped out of his mouth-his hand sought for it, and sank lazily by his side-his head turned over a little towards the door-and he fell off; not into the drugged sleep that there was safety in, but into his light, natural sleep, which a touch on his body might have disturbed. "Now's the time to gag him," says Short, creeping up close to me, and taking off his jacket and shoes. " Steady," says I. " Don't let's try that till we can try nothing else. There are men asleep near us who have not eaten the drugged cakes 7'2 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. the Pirate Captain is light and active —and if the gag slips on his mouth, we are all done for. I'll go to hisihead, Short, with my jacket ready in my hands. When I'm there, do you lead the' way with your mates, and step gently into the portico, over his body. Every minute of your time is precious on account of making the rafts. Leave the rest of the men to get the women and children over; and leave me to gag him if he stirs while we are getting out." " Shake hands on it, Davis," says Short, getting to his feet. "A team of horses wouldn't have dragged me out first, if you hadn't said that about the rafts." "Wait a bit," says I, "till I speak to Mr. Kitten." I crawled back into the room, taking care to keep out of the way of the stones in the middle of it, and asked Mr. Kitten how long it would be before the drugged cakes acted on the men outside who had eaten them? He said we ought to wait another quarter of an hour, to make quite sure. At the same time, Mr. Macey whispered in my ear to let him pass over the Pirate Captain's body, alone with. the dangerous man of our company-Serjeant Drooce. " I know how to deal with'mad people," says he. "I have persuaded the Serjeant that if he is quiet, and if he steps carefully, I can help him to escape from Tom Packer, whom he is beginning to look on as his keeper. Hie has been as stealthy and quiet as a cat ever since-and I will answer for him till we get to the river side." What a relief it was to hear that I I was turning round to get back to Short, when a hand touched me lightly. "I have heard you talking," whispered Miss Maryon; "and I will prepare all in my room for the risk we must now run. Robert, the ship's boy, whom the children are so fond of, shall help us to persuade them, once more, that we are going to play a game. If you can get one of the torches from the tent, and pass it in here, it may prevent some of us from stumbling. Don't be afraid of the women and children, Davis. They shall not endanger the brave men who are saving them." I left her at once to get the torch. The Pirate Captain was still fast asleep as I stole on tiptoe, into the hall, and took it from the tent. When I returned, and gave it to Miss Maryon, her sister's little deaf and dumb boy saw me, and, shipping between us, caught tight hold of one of my hands. Having been used to riding on my shoulders for so many days, he had taken a fancy to me; and, when I tried to put him away, he only clung the tighter, and began to murmur in his helpless dumb way. Slight as the noise was which the poor little fellow could make, we all dreaded it. His mother wrung her hands in despair when she heard him; and Mr. Fisher whispered to me for Heaven's sake to quiet the child, and humor him at any cost. I immediately took him up in my arms, and went back to Short THE PRISON IN THE WOODS. 73 "Sling him on my back," says I, " as you slung the little girl on your own the fist day of the march. I want both my hands,-and the child won't be quiet away from me." Short did as I asked him in two minutes. As soon as he had fin. ished, Mr. Macey passed the word on to me, that the quarter of an hour was up; that it was time to try the experiment with Drooce; and that it was necessary for us all to humor him by feigning sleep. We obeyed. Looking out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Macey take the mad Serjeant's arm, paint round to us all, and then lead him out. Holding tight by Mr. Macey, Drooce stepped as lightly as a woman, with as bright and wicked a look of cunning as ever I saw in any human eyes. They crossed the hall —Mr. Macey pointed to the Pirate Captain, and whispered, " Hush I" —the Serjeant imitated the action and repeated the word-then the two stepped over his body (Drooce cautiously raising his feet the highest), and disappeared through the portico. We waited to hear if there was any noise or confusion. Not a sound. I got up, and Short handed me his jacket for the gag. The child, having been startled from his sleep by the light of the 1,rch, when I brought it in, had fallen off again, already, on my shoulder. "Now for it," says I, and stole out in the hall. I stopped at the tent, went in, and took the first knife I could find there. With the weapon between my teeth, with the little innocent asleep on my shoulder, with the jacket held ready in both hands, I kneeled down on one knee at the Pirate Captain's head, and fixed my eyes steadily on his ugly sleeping face. The sailors came out first, with their shoes in their hands. No sound of footsteps from any one of them. No movement in the ugly face as they passed over it. The women and children were ready next. Robert, the ship's boy, lifted the children over: most of them holding their little hands over their mouths to keep from laughing-so well had Robert persuaded them that we were only playing a game. The women passed next, all as light as air; after them, in obedience to a sign from me, my comrades of the marines, holding their shoes in their hands, as the sailors had done before them. So far, not a word had been spoken, not a mistake had been made -so far, not a change of any sort had passed over the Pirate Captain's face. There were left now in the hall, besides myself and the child on my back, only Mr. Fisher and Mr. Pordage. Mr. Pordage! Up to that moment, in the risk and excitement of the time, I had not once tohught of him. I was forced to think of him now, though; and with any thing but a friendly feeling. At the sight of the Pirate Captain, asleep across the way out, the un .74 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. fortunate, mischievous old simpleton, tossed up his head, and folded his arms, and was on the point of breaking out loud into a spok$ document of some kind, when Mr. Fisher wisely and quickly clapped a hand over his mouth. "Government dispatches outside," whispers Mr. Fisher, in an agony. "Secret-service. Forty-nine reports from head-quarters, all waiting for you half a mile off. I'll show you the way, sir. Don't wake that man there, who is asleep: he must know nothing about it-he represents the Public. " Mr. Pordage suddenly looked very knowing and hugely satisfied with himself. He followed Mr. Fisher to within a foot of the Pirate Captain's body —then stopped short. "How many reports?" he asked, very anxiously. "Forty-nine," said Mr. Fisher. " Come along, sir-and step clean over the Public, whatever you do." Mr. Pordage instantly stepped over, as jauntily as if he was going to dance. At the moment of his crossing, a hanging rag of his cursed, useless, unfortunlate limp Diplomotic coat touched the Pirate Captain's forehead, and woke him. I drew back softly, with the child still asleep on my shoulder, into the black shadow of the wall behind me. At the instant when the Pirate Captain awoke, I had been looking at Mr. Pordage, and had consequently lost the, chance of applying the gag to his mouth suddenly, at the right time. On rousing up, he turned his face inward, toward the prisoners' room. If he had turned it outward, he must to a dead certainty have seen the tail of Mr. Pordage's coat, disappearing in the portico. Though he was awake enough to move, he was not awake enough to have the full possession of his sharp senses. The drowsiness of his sleep still hung about him. He yawned, stretched himself, spat wearily, sat up, spat again, got on his legs, and stood up, within three feet of the shadow in which I was hiding behind him. I forgot the knife in my teeth —I declare solemnly, in the frightful suspense of that moment, I forgot it-and doubled my fist as if I was an unarmed man, with the purpose of stunning him by a blow on the head if he came any nearer. I suppose, I waited, with my fist clenched, for nearly a minute, while he waited, yawning and spitting. At the end of that time, he made for his tent, and I heard him (with wihat thankfulness no words can tell ) roll himself down, with another yawn, on his bed inside. I waited-in the interest of us all-to make quite sure, before I left, that he was asleep again. In what I reckoned as about five minutes' time I heard him snoring, and felt free to take myself and my little sleeping comrade out of the prison, at last. THE PRISON IN THE WOODS. 75 The drugged guards in the portico were sitting together, dead asleep, with their backs against the wall. The third man was lying flat, on the landing of the steps. Their arms and ammunition were gone: wisely taken by our men-to defend us, if we were meddled with before we escaped, antd to kill food for us when we committed ourselves to the river, At the bottom of the steps I was startled by seeing two women standing together. They were Mrs. Macey and Miss Maryon: the first, waiting to see her child safe; the second (God bless her for it!) waiting to see me safe. In a quarter of an hour we were by the river-side, and saw the work bravely begun: the sailors and the marines under their orders, laboring at the rafts in the shallow water by the bank; Mr. Macey and Mr. Fisher rolling down fresh timber as it was wanted; the women cutting the vines, creepers, and withies for the lashings. We brought with us three more pair of hands to help; and all worked with such a will, that in four hours and twenty minutes, by Mr. Macey's watch, the rafts, though not finished as they ought to have been, were still strong enough to float us away. Short, another seaman, and the ship's boy, got aboard the first raft, carrying with them poles and spare timber. Miss Maryon, Mrs. Fisher and her husband, Mrs. Macey and her husband and three children, Mr. and Mrs. Pordage, Mr. Kitten, myself, and women and children besides,,to make up eighteen, were the passengers on the leading raft. The second raft, under the guidance of the two other sailors, held Serjeant Drooce (gagged, for he now threatened to be noisy again), Tom Packer, the two marines, Mrs. Belltott, and the rest of the women and children. We all got on board silently and quickly, with a fine moonlight over our heads, and without accidents or delays of any kind. It was a good half hour before the time would come for the change of guard at the prison, when the lashings which tied us to the bank were cast off, and we floated away, a company of free people, on the current of an unknown river. CHAPTER III. THE RAFTS ON THE RIVER. WE contrived to keep afloat all that night, and, the stream running strong with us, to glide a long way down the river. But, we found the night to be aldangerous time for such navigation, on account of the eddies and rapids, and it was therefore settled next day that in future we would bring-to at sunset, and encamp on the shore. As we knew of no boats that the Pirates possessed, up at the Prison in the Woods, we settled always to encamp on the opposite side of the stream, so as to have the breadth of the river between our sleep and them. Our opinion was, that if they were acquainted with any near way by land to the mouth of this river, they would come up it in force, and retake us or kill us, according as they could; but, that if that was not the case, and if the river ran by none of their secret stations, we might escape. When I say we settled this or that, I do not mean that we planned any thing with any confidence as to what might happen an hour hence. -So much had happened in one night, and such great changes had been' violently and suddenly made in the fortunes of many among us, that we had got better used to uncertainty, in a little while, than I dare say most people do in the course of their lives. The difficulties we soon got into, through the off-settings and pointcurrents of the stream, made the likelihood of our being drowned, alone -to say nothing of our being retaken-as broad and plain as the sun at noon-day to all of us. But, we all worked hard at managing the rafts, under the direction of the seamen (of our own skill, I think we never could have prevented them from over-setting), and we also worked hard at making good the defects in their first hasty construction-which the water soon found out. While we humbly resigned ourselves to going down, if it was the will of Otur Father that was in Heaven, we humbly made up our minds, that we would all do the best that was in us. And so we held on, gliding with the stream. It drove us to this bank, and it drove us to that bank, and it turned us, and whirled us; but yet it carried us on. Sometimes much too slowly, sometimes much too fast, but yet it carried us on. My little deaf and dumb boy slumbered a good deal now, and that was the case with all the children. They caused very little trouble to any one. They seemed, in my eyes, to get more like one another, not only in quiet manner, but in the face, too. The motion of the raft was usually (16) THE RAFTS ON THE RIVER. 77 so much the same, the scene was usually so muci the same, the sound of the soft wash and ripple of the water was usually so much the same, that they were made drowsy, as they might have been by the constant playing of one tune. Even on the grown people, who worked hard and felt anxiety, the same things produced something offthe same effect.' Every day was so like the other, that I soon lost count of the days, myself, and had to ask Miss Maryon, for instance, whether this was the third or fourth? Miss Maryon had a pocket-book and pencil, and she kept the log; that is to say, she entered up a clear little journal of the time, and of the distances our seamen thought we had made, each night. So, as I say, we kept afloat and glided on. All day long, and every day, the water, and the woods, and sky; all day long, and every day, the constant watching of both sides of the river, and far a-head at every bold turn and sweep it made, for any signs of Pirate-boats, or Pirate dwellings. So, as I say, we kept afloat and glided on. The days melting themselves together to that degree, that I could hardly believe my ears when I asked " How many now, Miss?'" and she answered, " Seven." To be sure, poor Mr. Pordage had, by about now, got his Diplomatic coat into such a state as never was seen. What with the mud of the river, what with the water of the river, what with the sun, and the dews, and the tearing boughs, and the thickets, it hung about him in discolored shreds like a mop. The sun had touched him a bit. He had taken to always-polishing one particular button, which had just held on to his left wrist, and to always calling for stationery. I suppose that man called for pens, ink, and paper, tape, and sealing-wax, upwards of one thousand times in four and twenty hours. He had an idea that we. should never get out that river unless we were written out of it in a formal Memorandum; and the more we labored at navigating the rafts, the more he ordered us not to touch them at our peril, and the more he sat and roared for stationery. Mrs. Pordage, similarly, persisted in wearing her night-cap. I doubt if any one but ourselves who had seen the progress of that article of dress, could by this time have told what it was meant for. It had got so limp and ragged that she couldn't see out of her eyes for it. It was so dirty, that whether it was vegetable matter out of a swamp, or weeds out of the river, or, an old porter's-knot from England, I don't think any new spectator could have said. Yet, this unfortunate old woman had a notion that it was not only vastly genteel, but that it was the correct thing as to propriety. And she really did carry herself over the other ladies who had no night-caps, and who were forced to tie up their hair how they could, in a superior manner that was perfectly amazing. I don't know what she looked like, sitting in that blessed night-cap, on a log of wood, outside the hut or cabin upon our raft. She would have rather resembled a fortune-teller in one of the picture-books that used to: 's8 1i,-. PERILS OF CERTAIN iS GLiSH PRISONERS. I,) in Lhe =o.;o-viniow~ in my boyhood, except for her stateliness., But, Lord bless my ieart, th, aignity with which she sat and moped, with her head in that bundit 1I tatters, was like nothing else in the world! She was nlat on speaking cerm~s with more than three of the ladies. Some of them had, what she called, "taken precedence " of her-in getting into, or out ot, that miserable littlc shelter I-and others had not called to pay their respects, )Z something of that kind. So, there she sat, in her own state and ceremony, while her husband sat on the same log of wood, ordering us one and all to let the iaft go to the bottom, and to bring him stationery. What with this noise on the part of Mr. Commissioner Pordage, and what with the cries of Serjeant Drooce on the raft astern (which were sometimes more than Tom Packer could silence), we often made our slow way down the river, anything but quietly. Yet, that it was of great importance that no ears should be able to hear us from the woods on the banks, could not be doubted. We were looked for, to a certainty, and we might be retaken at any momenlt. It was an anxious time; it was, indeed, indeed, an anxious time. On the seventh night of our voyage on the rafts, we made fast as usual, on the opposite side of the river to that from which we had started, in as dark a place as we could pick out. Our little encampment was soon made, and supper was eaten, and the,nildren fell asleep. The watch was set, and everything made orderly for the night. Such a starlight night, wifh suciL lue in the sky, and such black in the places of heavy shadle or the banks of the great stream! Those two ladies, Miss Maryon and Mrs. Fisher, had always kept near me since the night of the attack. Mr. Fisher, who was untiring in the work of our raft, had said to me: "My dear little childless wife has grown so attached to you, Davis, and you are such a gentle fellow, as well as such a determined one;" our party had adopted that last expression from the one-eyed English pirate, and I repeat what Mr. Fisher said, only because he said it; "that it takes a load off my mind to leave her in your charge." I said to him: "Your lady is in far better charge than mine, sir, having Miss Maryon to take care of her; but you may rely upon it, that I will guard them both-faithful and true." Says he: "I do rely upbn it, Davis, and I heartily wis~ all the silver on our old Island was yours." That seventh starlight night, as I have said, we made our camp, and got our supper, and set our watch, and the children fell asleep. It was solemn and beautiful in those wild and solitary parts, to see them, every night before they lay down, kneeling under the bright sky, saying their little prayers at women's laps. At that time we men all uncovered, and mostly kept at a distance. When the innocent creatures rose up, we THE RAFTS ON THE RIVER. 79 murmured, "Amen!'" all together. For, though we had not heard what they said, we knew it must be good for us. At that time, too, as was only natural, those poor mothers in our com. pany whose children had been killed, shed many tears. I thought the sight seemed to console them while it made them cry; but, whether I was right or wrong in that, they wept very much. On this seventh night, Mrs. Fisher had cried for her lost darling until she cried herself asleep. She was lying on a little couch of leaves and such-like (I made the best little couch I could, for them every night), and Miss Maryon had cowered her, and sat by her, holding her hand. The stars looked down upon them. As for me, I guarded them. "Davis!" says Miss Maryon. (I am not going to say what a voice she had. I couldn't if I tried.) "I am here, Miss." "The river sounds as if it were swollen to-night." "We all think, Miss, that we are coming near the sea." " Do you believe, now, we shall escape?" " I do now, Miss, really believe it." I had always said I did; but I had in my own mind been doubtful. " How glad you will be, my good Davis, to see England again I" I have another confession to make that will appear singular. When she said these words, something rose in my throat; and the stars I looked away at, seemed to break into sparkles that fell down my face and burnt it. "England is not much to me, Miss, except as a name." "Oh I So true an Englishman should not say that I-Are you not well to-night, Davis?" Very kindly, and with a quick change. "Quite well, Miss." "Are you sure? Your voice sounds altered in my hearing." " No, Miss, I am a stronger man than ever. But England is nothing to me." Miss Maryon sat silent for so long a while, that I believed she had done speaking to me for one time. However, she had not; for by and by she said in a distinct, clear tone: "No, good friend; you must not say, that England is nothing to you. It is to be much to you, yet-everything to you. You have to take back to England the good name you have earned here, and the gratitude and attachment and respect you have won here; and you have to make some good English girl very happy and proud, by marrying her; and I shall one day see her, I hope, and make her happier and prouder still, by telling her what noble services her husband's were in South America, and what a noble friend he was to me there." Though she spoke these kind words in a cheering manner, she spoke them compassionately. I said nothing. It will appear to be another 80 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLIStI PRISONERS. strange confession, that I paced to and fro, within call, all that night, a most unhappy man, reproaching myself all the night long. "You are as ignorant as any man alive; you are as obscure as any man alive; you are as poor as any man alive; you are no better than the mud under your foot." That was the way in which I went on against myself until the morning. With the day, came the day's labor. What I should have done with. out the labor, I don't know. We were afloat again at the usual hour, and were again making our way down the river. It was broader, and clearer of obstructions than it had been, and it seemed to flow faster. This was one of Drooce's quiet days; Mr. Pordage, besides being sulky, had almost lost his voice; and we made good way, and with little noise, There was always a seaman forward.on the raft, keeping a bright lookout. Suddenly, in the full heat of the day, when the children were slumbering, and the very trees and reeds appeared to be slumbering, this man,-it was Short-holds up his hand, and cries with great caution: " Avast I Voices ahead I" We held on against the stream as soon as we could bring her up, and the other raft followed suit. At first, Mr. Macey, Mr. Fisher, and myself could hear nothing; though both the seamen aboard of us agreed that they could hear voices and oars. After a little pause, however, we united in thinking that we could hear the sound of voices and the dip of oars. But, you can hear a long way in those countries, and there was a bend of the river before us, and nothing was to be seen except such waters and such banks as we were now in the eighth day (and might. for the matter of our feelings, have been in the eightieth), of having seen with anxious eyes. It was soon decided to put a man ashore who should creep through the wood, see what was coming, and warn the rafts. The rafts in the meantime to keep the middle of the stream. The man to be put ashore, and not to swim ashore, as the first thing could be more quickly done than the second. The raft conveying him, to get back into mid-stream, and to hold on along with the other, as well as it could, until signalled by the man. In case of danger, the man to shift for himself until it should be safe to take him aboard again. I volunteered t? be the man. We knew that the voices and oars must come up slowly against the stream; and our seamen knew, by the set of the stream, under which bank they would come. I was put ashore accordingly. The raft. got off well, and I broke into the wood. Steaming hot it was, and a tearing place to get through. So much the better for me, since it was something to contend against and do. I cut off the bend in the river, at a great saving of space, came to the water's edge again, and hid myself, and waited. I could now hear the dip of the oars very distinctly; the voices had ceased. THE RAFTS ON THE RIVER. 81 The sound came on in a regular tune, and as I lay hidden, I fancied the tune so played to be, " Chris'en-George-King I Chris'en-GeorgeKing I Chris'en-George-King I" over and over again, always the same, with the pauses always at the same places. I had likewise time to make up my mind that if these were the Pirates, I could and would (barring my being shot), swim off to my raft, in spite of my wound, the moment I had given the alarm, and hbld my old post by Miss Maryon. " Chris'en-George —King! Chris'en - George — King I Chris'en — George-King I" coming up, now, very near. I took a look at the branches about me, to see where a shower of bullets would be most likely to do me least hurt; and I took a look back at the track I had made in forcing my way in: and now I was wholly prepared and fully ready for them. "Chris'en-George-King I Chris'en - George -King I Chris'en-. George-King I" Here they were I Who were they I The barbarous Pirates, scum of all nations, headed by such men as the hideous little Portuguese monkey, and the one-eyed English convict with the gash across his face, that ought to have gashed his wicked head off? The worst men in the world, picked out from the worst, to do the cruelest and most atrocious deeds that ever stained it? The howling, murdering, black-flag waving, mad, and drunken crowd of devils that had overcome us by numbers and by treachery? No. These were English men in English boats-good blue-jackets and red,' coats-marines that I knew myself, and sailors that knew our seamen I At the helm of the first boat, Captain Carton, eager and steady. At the helm of the second boat, Captain Maryon, brave and bold. At the helm of the third boat, an old seaman, with determination carved into his watchful face, like the figure-head of a ship. Every man doubly and trebly armed from head to foot. Every man lying-to at his work, with a will that had all his heart and soul in it. Every man looking out for any trace of friend or enemy, and burning to be the first to do good, or avenge evil. Every man with his face on fire when he saw me, his countryman who had been taken prisoner, and hailed me with a cheer, as Captain Carton's boat ran in and took me on board. I reported, "All escaped, sir I All well, all. safe, all here I" God' bless me-and God bless them-what a cheerl It turned me weak, as I was passed on from hand to hand to the stern of the boat; every hand patting me or grasping me in some way or other, in the moment of my going by. "Hold up, my brave fellow," says Captain Carton, clapping me on the shoulder like a friend, and giving me a flask. "Put your lips to that, and they'll be red again. Now, boys, give way 1" The banks flew by us, as if the mightiest stream that ever ran was with us; and so it was, I am sure, meaning the stream of those men's ardor 5 82 AHCE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. and spirit. The banks flew by us, and we came in sight of the rafts-the banks flew by us, and we came along-side of the rafts-the hanks stopped; and there was a tumult of laughing and crying and kissing and shaking of hands and catching up! of children and setting of them down again, and a wild hurry of thankfulness and joy that melted every one and softened all hearts. I had taken notice, inr Captain Carton's boat, that there was a curious and quite new sort of fitting on board. It was a kind of a little bower made of flowers, and it was set up behind the captain, and betwixt him and the rudder. Not only was this arbor, so to call it, neatly made of flowers, but it was ornamented in a singular way. Some of the men had taken the ribbands and buckles off their hats, and hung them among the flowers; others, had made festoons and streamers of their handkerchiefs, and hung them there-others had intermixed such trifles as bits of glass and shining fragments of lockets and tobacco-boxes, with the flowers; so that altogether it was a very bright and -lively object in the sunshine. But why there, or what for, I did not understand. Now, as soon as the first bewilderment was over, Captain Carton gave the order to land for the present. But, this boat of his, with two hands left in her, immediately put off again when the men were out of her, and kept off, some yards from the shore. As she floated there, with the two hands gently backing water to keep her from going down the stream, lis pretty little arbor attracted many eyes. None of the boat's crew, however, had any thing to say about it, except that it was the Captain's fancy. The captain, with the women and children clustering round ~lim, and the men of all ranks grouped outside them, and all listening, stood telling how the expedition, deceived by its bad intelligence, had chased the light Pirate boats all that fatal night, and had still followed in their wake next. day, and had never suspected until many hours too late that the great Pirate body had drawn off in the darkness when the chace began, and shot over to the Island. He stood telling how the Expedition, supposing the whole array of armed boats to he ahead of it, got tempted into shallows and went aground; but not without having its revenge upon the two decoy-boats, both-of which it had come up with, overland, and sent to the bottom with all on board. lie stood telling how the expedition, fearing then that: the case stood as it did, got afloat again, by great exertion, after the loss of four more tides, and returned to the islansc, where they found the sloop scuttled, and the treasure gone. He stood telling how my officer, Lieutenant Linderwood was left upon the Island, with as strong a force as could be got together hurriedly from the mainland, and how the three boats we saw before us were manned and armed and had come away, exploring'the coast and inlets, in search of any tidings of us. He stood telling all this, with his face to the river; THE RAFTS ON THE RIVER. 83 and as he stood telling it, the little arbor of flowers floated in the sunshine before all'the faces there. Leaning on Captain Carton's shoulder, between him and Miss Maryon was Mrs. Fisher, her head drooping on her arm. She asked him without raising it, when he- had told her so much, whether he had found her mother? "Be comforted I She lies," said the Captain, gently, "under the cocoanut trees on the beach." "And my child, Captain Carton, did you find my child, too? Does my darling rest with my mother?" " No. Your pretty child sleeps," said the Captain, " under a shade of flowers." His voice shook; but there was something in it that struck all the hearers. At that moment there sprung from the arbor in his boat, a little creature, clapping her hand and stretching out her arms and crying "Dear papa Dear mammal I am not killed. I am saved. I am coming to kiss you. Take me to them, take me to them, good, kind sailors I" Nobody who saw'that scene has ever forgotten it, I am sure, or ever will forget it. The child had kept quite still, where her brave grandmama had put her (first whispering in her ear, "Whatever happens to me, do not stir, my dear I"), and had remained quiet until the fort was deserted;'she had then crept out of the trench, and gone into her mother's house;'and there, alone on the solitary Island, in her mother's room, and asleep on her mother's bed, the Captain had found her. Nothing could induce her to be parted from him after he tooJ her up in his arms, and he had brought her away with him, and the men had made the bower for her. To see those men now, was a sight. The joy of the women was beautiful; the joy of those women who had lost their own children, was quite sacred and divine; but, the ecstasies of Captain Carton's boat's crew, when their pet was restored to her parents, were wonderful for-the tenderness they showed in the midst of roughness. As the Captain stood with the child in his arms, and the child's own little arms now clinging round his neck, now round her father's, now round her mother's, now round some one who pressed up to kiss her, the boat's crew shook hands with one another, waved their hats over their heads, laughed, sang, cried, danced —and all among themselves, without wanting to interfere with any body-in a manner never to be represented. At last, I saw the coxswain and another, two very hard-faced men with grizzled heads who had been the heartiest of the hearty all along, close with one another, get each of'them the other's head under his arm, and pummel -away at it with his fist as hard as he could, in his excess of joy. When we had well rested and refreshed ourselves-and very glad we were to have some of the heartening things to eat and drink that had 84 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. come up in the boats-we recommenced our voyage down the river: rafts, and boats, and all. I said to myself, it was a very different kind of voyage now, from what it had been; and I fell into my proper place and station among my fellow-soldiers. But, when we halted for the night, I found that Miss Maryon had spoken to Captain Carton concerning me. For, the Captain came straight up to me, and says he,'My brave Tellow, you have been Miss Maryon's body-guard all along, and you shall remain so. Nobody shall supersede you in the distinction and pleasure of protecting that young lady." I thanked his honor in the fittest words I could find, and that night I was placed on my old post of watching the place where she slept. More than once in the night, I saw Captain Carton come out into the air, and stroll about there, to see that all was well. I have now this other singular confession to make, that I saw him with a heavy heart. Yes; I saw him with a heavy, heavy heart. In the day-time, I had the like post in Captain Carton's boat. I had a special station of my own, behind Miss Maryon, and no hands but hers ever touched my wound. (It has been healed these many long years; but, no other hands have ever touched it.) Mr. Pordage was kept toler ably quiet now, with "en and ink, and began to pick up his senses a little Seated in the second boat, he made documents with Mr. Kitten, pretty well all day; and he generally handed in a Protest about something whenever we stopped. The Captain, however, made so very light of these papers, that it grew into a saying among the men, when one of them wanted a match for his pipe, "Hand us over a Protest, Jack!" As to Mrs. Pordage, she still wore the nightcap, and she now had cut all the ladies on account of her not having been formally and separately rescued by Captain Carton before anybody else. The end of Mr. Pordage, to bring to an end all I know about him, was, that he got great compliments at home for his conduct on these trying occasions, and that he died of yellow jaundice, a Governor and a K.C.B. Serjeant Drooce had fallen from a high fever into a low one. Tom Packer-the only man who could have pulled the Serjeant through itkept hospital a-board the old raft, and Mrs. Belltott, as brisk as ever again (but the spirit of that little woman, when things tried it, was not equal to appearances), was head-nurse under his directions. Before we got down to the Mosquito coast, the joke had been made by one of our men, that we should see her gazetted Mrs. Tom Packer, vice Belltott exchanged. When we reached the coast, we got native boats as substitutes for the rafts; and we rowed along under the land; and in that beautiful climate, and upon that heautiful water, the blooming days were like enchantment. Ah I They were running away, faster than any sea or river, and there was no tide to bring them back. We were coming very near THE RAFTS ON THE RIVER. 85 the settlement where the people of Silver-Store were to be left, and from which we Marines were under orders to return to Belize. Captain Carton had, in the boat by him, a curious, long-barreled Spanish gun, and he had said to Miss Maryon one day, that it was the best of guns, and had turned his head to me and said: "Gill Davis, load her fresh with a couple of slugs, against a chance of showing how good she is." So, I had discharged the gun over the sea, and had loaded her according to orders, and there it had lain at the Captain's feet, colnvenient to the Captain's hand. The last day but one of our journey was an uncommon hot day. We started very early; but there was no cool air on the sea as the day got on, and by noon the heat was really hard to bear, considering that there were women and children to bear it. Now, we happened to open, just at that time, a very pleasant little cove or bay, where there was a deep shade from a great growth of trees. Now, the Captain, therefore, made the signal to the other boats to follow him in and lie by awhile. The men who were off duty went ashore, and lay down, but were ordered, for caution's sake, not to stray, and to keep within view. The others rested on their oars, and dozed. Awnings had been made of one thing and another, in all the boats, and the passengers found it cooler to be under them in the shade, when there was room enough, than to be in the thick woods. So, the passengers were all afloat, and mostly.sleeping. I kept my post behind Miss Maryon, and she was on Captain Carton's right" in the boat, and Mrs. Fisher sat on her right again. The Captain had Mrs. Fisher's daughter on his knee. He and the two ladies were talking about the Pirates, and were talking softly: partly, because people do talk softly under such indolent circumstances, and partly because the little girl gad gone off asleep. I think I have before given it out for my Lady to write down, that Captain Carton had a fine bright eye of his own. All at once he darted me a side look, as much as to say, " Steady-don't take on-I see something I" and gave the child into her mother's arms. That eye of his was so easy to understand, that I obeyed it by not so much as looking either to the right or to the left out of a corner of my own, or changing my attitude the least trifle. The Captain went on talking in the same mild and easy way; but began-with his arms resting across his linees, and his head a little hanging forward, as if the heat were rather too much for him-began to play with the Spanish gun. "They had laid their plans, you see," says the Captain, taking up the Spanish gun across his knees, and looking lazily, at the inlaying on the stock, "with a great deal of art; and the corrupt or blundering local authorities wert so easily deceived;" he ran his left hand idly along the barrel, but I saw, with my breath held, that he covered the action of 86 TfTHE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISII PRISONERS. cocking the gun with his right —" so easily deceived, that they summoned us out to come into the trap. But my intentions as to future operations --— " In a flash the Spanish gun was at his bright eye, and he fired. All started up; innumerable echoes repeated the sound of the discharge; a cloud of bright-colored birds flew out of the woods screaming; a handful of leaves were scattered in the place where the shot had struck; a crackling of branches was heard and some lithe but heavy creature sprang into the air, and fell forward, head down, over the muddy bank. "What is it?" cries Captain Maryon from his boat. All silent then, but the echoes rolling away. " It is a Traitor and a Spy," said Captain Carton, handing me the gun to load again. "And I think the other name of the animal is Christian George King I" Shot through the heart. Some of the people ran round to the spot, and drew him out, with the slime and wet trickling down his face; but, his face itself would never stir any more to the end of time. " Leave him hanging to that tree," cried Captain Carton; his boat's crew giving way, and he leaping ashore. " But first into this wood, every man in his place. And boats I Out of gunshot I" It was a quick charge, well meant and well made, though it ended in disappointment. No Pirates were there; no one but the Spy was found. It was supposed that the Pirates, unable to retake us, and expecting a great attack upon them, to be the consequence of our escape, had made from the ruins in the Forest, taken to their ship along with the Treasure, and left the Spy to pick up what~ intelligence he could. In the evening we went away, and he was left hanging to the tree, all alone, with the red sun making a kind of dead sunset on his black face. Next day, we gained the settlement on the Mosquito coast for which we were bound. Having stayed there to refresh, seven days, and having been much commended, and highly spoken of, and finely entertained, we Marines stood under orders to march from the Town-Gate (it was neither much of a town nor much of a gate,) at five in the morning. My officer had joined us before then. When we turned out at the gate, all the people were there; in the front of them all those who had been our fellow-prisoners, and all the seamen. "Davis," says Lieutenant Linderwood, " Stand out, my friend I" I stood out from the ranks, and Miss Maryon and Captain Carton came up to me. " Dear Davis," says Miss Maryon, while the tears fell fast down her face, " your grateful friends, in most unwillingly taking leave of you, ask the favor that, while you bear away with you their affectionate remembrance which nothing can ever impair, you will also take this purse of money-far more valuable to you, we -all know, for the deep attachment THE RAFTS ON THE RIVER. 87 and thankfulness with which it is offered, than for its contents, though we lope those may prove useful to you, too, in after life." I got out, in answer, that I thankfully accepted the attachment ana affection, but not the money. Captain Carton looked at me very attentively, and stepped back, and moved away. I made him my bow as he stepped back, to thank him for being so delicate. "No, miss," said I, " I think it would break my heart to accept of money. But, if you could condescend to give to a man so ignorant and common as myself, any little thing you have worn-such as a bit,C ribbon-" She took a ring from her finger, and put it in my hand. And she rested her hand in mine, while she said these words: " The brave gentlemen of old-but not one of them was braver, or had a nobler nature than you-took such gifts from ladies, and did all their good actions for the givers' sakes. If you will do yours for mine, I shall think with pride that I continue to have some share in the life of a gallant and generous man." For the second time in my life, she kissed my hand. I made so bold, for the first time, as to kiss hers; and I tied the ring at my breast, and I fell back to my place. a Then, the horse-litter went out at the gate, with Serjeant Doorce in it; and the horse-litter went out at the gate with Mrs. Belltott in it; and Lieutenant Linderwood gave the word of command, "Quick march!" and, cheered and cried for, wte went out of the gate too, marching along the level plain toward the serene blue sky as if we were marching straight to Heaven. When I have added here that the Pirate scheme was blown to shivers, by the Pirate-ship which had the Treasure on board being so vigorously attacked by one of His Majesty's cruisers, among the West India Keys, and being so swiftly boarded and carried, that nobody suspected anything about the scheme until three-fourths of the Pirates were killed, and the other fourth were in irons, and the Treasure was recovered; I come to the last singular confession I have got to make. It is this. I well knew what an immense and hopeless distance there was between me and Miss Maryon; I well knew that I was no fitter company for her than I was for the angels; I well knew that she was as high above my reach as the sky over my head; and yet I loved her. What put it in my low heart to be so daring, or whether such a thing ever happened before or since, as that a man so uninstructed and obscure as myself got his unhappy thoughts lifted up to such a height, while knowing very well how presumptuous and impossible to be realised they were, I am unable to say; still, the suffering to me was just as great as if I had been a gentleman. I suffered agony-agony. I suffered hard, and I suffered long. I thought of her last words to me, however, and I 88 THE PERILS OF CERTAIN ENGLISH PRISONERS. never disgraced them. If it had not been for those dear words, I think I should have lost myself in despair and recklessness. The ring will be found lying on my heart, of course, and will be laid with me wherever I am laid. I am getting on in years now, though I am:able and hearty. I was recommended for promotion, and every thing was done to reward me that could be done; but, my total want of all learning stood in my way, and I found myself so completely out of the road to it, that I could not conquer any learning, though I tried. I was long in the service, and I respected it, and was respected in it, and the service is dear to me at this present hour. At this present hour, when I give this out to my Lady to be written down, all my old pain has softened away, and I am as happy as a man ean be, at this present fine old country-house of Admiral Sir George Carton, Baronet. It was mny Lady Carton who herself sought me out, over a great many miles of the wide world, and found me in Hospital wounded, and brought me here. It is my Lady Carton who writes down my words. My Lady was Miss Maryon. And now, that I conclude what I had to tell, I see my Lady's honored gray hair droop over her face, as she leans a little lower at her desk; and I fervently thank her for being so tender as I see she is, towards the past pain and trouble of her poor, old, faithful, humble soldier. THE EZD. THE WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. IN THREE BOOKS. BEING THE CAPTAIN'S ACCOUNT OF THE LOSS OF THE SHIP, AND THE MATE'S ACCOUNT OF THE GREAT DELIVERANCE OF HER PEOPLE IN AN OPEN BOAT AT SEA. BOOK THE FIRST. THE WRECK. I WAS apprenticed to the sea when I was twelve years old, and I have encountered a great deal of rough weather, both literal and metaphorical. It has always been my opinion since I first possessed such a thing as an opinion, that the man who knows only one subject is next tiresome to the man who knows no subject. Therefore, in the course of my life I have taught myself whatever I could, and although I am not an educated man, I am able, I am thankful to say, to have an intelligent interest in most things. A person might suppose, from reading the above, that I am in the habit of holding forth about number one. That is not the case. Just as if I was to come into a room among strangers, and must either be introduced or introduce myself, so I have taken the liberty of passing these few remarks, simply and plainly, that it may be known who and what I am. I will add no more of the sort than that my name is William George Ravender, that I was born at Penrith half a year after my own father was drowned, and that I am on the second day of this present blessed Christmas week of one thousand eight hundred and fifty-six, fifty-six years of age. When the rumor first went flying up and down that there was gold in California-which, as most people know, was before it. was discovered in the British colony of Australia-I was in tktfr (17) 18 WRECK- OF, THIE GOLDEN MARY. West Indies, trading among the Islands. Being in command and likewise part-owner of a smart schooner, I had my work cut out for me, and I was doing it. Consequently, gold in California was no business of mine. But, by the time when I came home to England again, the thing was as clear as your hand held up before you at noon-day. There was California gold in the museums and in the goldsmiths' shops, and the very first time I went upon'Change, I met a friend of mine, (a seafaring man like myself), with a Californian nugget hanging to his watch-chain. I handled it. It was as like a peeled walnut with bits unevenly broken off here and there, and then electrotyped all over, as ever I saw any thing in my life. I am a single man (she was too good for this world and for me, and she died six weeks before our marriage-day), so when I am ashore, I live in my house at Poplar. My house at Poplar is taken care of and kept in ship-shape by an old lady who was my mother's maid before I was born. She is as handsome and as upright as any old lady in the world. She is as fond of me as if she had ever had an only son, and I was he. Well do I know whenever I sail that she never lays down her head at night without having sai'4, "Merciful Lord! bless and preserve William George Ravender, and send him safe home, through Christ our Saviour." I have thought of it in many a dangerous moment, when it has done me no harm, I am sure. In my house at Poplar, along with this old lady, I lived quiet for best part of a year: having had a long spell of it among the Islands, and having (which was very uncommon in me) taken the fever rather badly. At last, being strong and hearty, and having read every book I could lay hold of, right out, I was walking down Leadenhall street in the city of London, thinking of turning-to again, when I met what I call Smithick and Watersby of Liverpool. I chanced to lift up my eyes from looking in at a ship's chronometer in a window, and I saw him bearing down upon me, head on. It is, personally, neither Smithick nor Watersby that I here mention, nor was I ever acquainted with any man of either of those names, nor do I think that there has been any one of either of those names in that Liverpool House for years back. But it is in reality the House itself that I refer to; and a wiser merchant or a truer gentleman never stepped. "My dear Captain Ravender," says he, "of all the men on earth, I wanted to see you most. I was on my way to you." " Well," says I, " that looks as if you were to see me, don't it?" With that I put my arm in his, and we walked on toward the Royal Exchange, and, when we got there, walked up and down at the back of it, where the clock-tower is. We walked an hour or more, for he had much to say to me. He had a WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 19 scheme for chartering a new ship of their own to take out a cargo to the diggers and emigrants in California, and to buy and bring back gold. Into the particulars of that scheme I will not enter, and I have no right to enter. All I say of it is, that it was a very original one, a very fine one, a very sound one, and a very lucrative one, beyond doubt. He imparted it to mle as freely as if I had been a part of himself. After doing so, he made me the handsomest sharing offer that ever was made to me, boy or man —or I believe to any other captain in the Merchant Navy-and he took this round term to finish with: "Ravender, you are well aware that the lawlessness of that coast and country, at present, is as special as the circumstances in which it is placed. Crews of vessels outward-bound desert as soon as they make the land; crews of vessels homewardbound ship at enormous wages, with the express intention of murdering the captain and seizing the gold freight; no man can trust another, and the devil seems let loose. Now," says he, "you know my opinion of you, and you know I am only expressing it, and with no singularity, when I tell you that you are almost the only man on whose integrity, discretion, and energy —" &c., &c. For I don't want to repeat what he said, though I was and am sensible of it. Notwithstanding my being, as I have mentioned, quite ready for a voyage, still I had some doubts of this voyage. Of course I knew, without being told, that there were peculiar difficulties and dangers in it a long way over and above those which attend all voyages. It must not be supposed that I was afraid to face them; but, in my opinion, a man has no manly motive or sustainment in his own breast for facing dangers unless he has well considered whlat they are, and is able quietly to say to himself, "None of these perils can now take me by surprise; I shall know what to do for the best in any of them; all the rest lies in the higher and greater hands to which I humbly commit myself." On this principle I have so attentively considered (regarding it as my duty) all the hazards I have ever been able to think of, in the ordinary way of storm, shipwreck, and fire at sea, that I should be prepared to do, in any of those cases, whatever could be done, to save the lives entrusted to my charge. As I was thoughtful, my good friend proposed that he should leave me to walk there as long as I liked, and that I should dine with him by-and-by at his club in Pall Mall. I accepted the invitation, and I walked up and down there, quarter-deck fashion, a matter of a couple of hours; now and then looking up at the weathercock as I might have looked up aloft-and now and then taking a lork into Cornhill, as I might have taken a look over the side. 20 WRECK OF THE GOLD-EN MAI Y. All dinner-time, and all after dinner-time, we talked it over again. I gave him my views of his plan, and he very much approved of the same. I told him I had nearly decided, but not quite. "Well, well," says he, "come down to Liverpool to-morrow with me, and see the Golden Mary." I liked the name (her name was Mary, and she was golden, if golden stands for good), so I began to feel that it was almost done when I said I would go to Liverpool. On the next morning but one we were on board the Golden Mary. I might have known, from his asking me to come down and see her, what she was. I declare her to have been the completest and most exquisite beauty that I ever set my eyes upon. We had inspected every timber in her, and come back to the gangway to go ashore from the dock-basin, when I put out my hand to my friend. "Touch upon it," says I, "and touch heartily. I take command of this ship, and I am hers and yours, if I can get John Steadiman for my chief mate." John Steadiman had sailed with me four voyages. The first voyage John was my third mate out to China, and came home second. The other three voyages he was my first officer. At this time of chartering the Golden Mary, he was aged thirtytwo. A brisk, bright blue-eyed fellow, a very neat figure and rather under the middle size, never out of the way and never in it, a face that pleased everybody and that all children took to, a habit of going about singing as cheerily as a blackbird, and a perfPct sailor. We were in one of those Liverpool hackney-coaches in less than a minute, and we cruised about in her upward of three hours looking for John. John had come home from Van Diemeii's Land barely a month before, and I had heard of him as taking a frisk in Liverpool. We asked after him, among many other places, at the two boarding-houses he was fondest of, and we found he had had a week's spell at each of them; but he had gone here and gonj there, and had set off "to lay out on the main-to'-gallant-yard of the highest Welsh mountain," (so he'ad told the people of the house), and where he might be then, or when he might: come back, nobody could tell us. But it was surprising, to be sure, to see how every face brightened the moment there was mention made of the name of Mr. Steadiman. We were taken aback at meeting with no better luck, a/nd we had wore ship and put her head for my friend's, when, as we were jogging through the streets, I clap my eyes on John himself coming out of a toyshop I He was carrying a little boy, and conducting two uncommon pretty women to their coach, and he told me afterward that he had never in his life seen. one of the three before, but that he was so taken with them on looking in at the toyshop while they were buying the child a WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 21 cranky Noah's Ark, very much down by the head, that he had gone in and asked the ladies' permission to treat him to a tolerably correct Cutter there was in the window, in order that such a handsome boy might not grow up with a lubberly idea of naval architecture. We stood off and on until the ladies' coachman began to give way, and then we hailed John. On his coming aboard of us, I told him, very gravely, what I had said to my friend. It struck him, as he said himself, amidships. He was quite shakes by it. " Captain Ravender," were John Steadiman's words, " such an opinion from you is trte commendation, and I'll sail round the world with you for twenty years if you hoist the signal, and stand by you forever!" And now indeed I felt that it was done, and that the Golden Mary was afloat. ~ Grass never grew yet under the feet of Smithick and Watersby. The riggers were out of that ship in a fortnight's time, and we had begun taking in cargo. John was always aboard, seeing every thing stowed with his own eyes; and whenever I went aboard myself, early or late, whether he was below in the hold, or on deck at the hatchway, or overhauling his cabin, nailing up pictures in it of the Blush Roses of England, the Blue Belles of Scotland, aWld the female Shamrock of Ireland: of a certainty I heard John singing like a blackbird. We had room for twenty passengers. Our sailing advertisement was no sooner out, than we might have taken these, twenty times over. In entering our men, I and John (both together) picked them, and we entered none but good handsas good as were to be found in that port. And so, in a good ship of the best build, well owned, well arranged, well officered, well manned, well found in all respects, we parted with our pilot at a quarter past four o'clock in the afternoon of the seventh of March, one thousand eight hundd'ed and fifty-one, and stood with a fair wind out to sea. It may be easily believed that up to that time T had had no leisure to be intimate with my passengers. The most of them were then in their berths sea-sick; however, in going among them, telling them what was good for themi, persuading them not to be there, but to come up on deck and feel the breeze, and in rousing them with a joke, or a comfortable word, I made. acquaintance with them, perhaps, in a more friendly and cone fidential way from the first, than I might have done at the cabin table. Of my passengers, I need only particularize, just at present, a bright-eyed blooming young wife who was going out to joiu her husband in California, taking with her their only child, a little girl of three years old, whom he had never seen; a sedate young woman in black, some five years older (about thirty, as I should say), who was going out to join a brother; 22 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. and an old gentleman, a good deal like a hawk if his eyes hbaa been better and not so red, who was always tallking, morning, noon, and night, about the gold discovery. But, whether he was making the voyage, thinking his old arms could dig for gold, or whether his speculation was to buy it, or to barter for it, or to cheat for it, or to snatch it anyhow fiom other people, was his secret. He kept his secret. These three and the child were the soonest well. The child was a most engaging child, to be sure, and very fond of me; though I am bound to admit that John Steadiman and I were borne on her pretty little books in reverse order, and that he was captain there, and I was mate. It was beautiful to watch her with John, and it was beautiful to watch John with her. Few would have thought it possible to see John playing at bo-peep round the mast, that he was the man who had caught up an iron bar and struck a Malay and a Maltese dead, as they were gliding with their knives down the cabin stair aboard the barque Old England, when the captain lay ill in his cot, off Saugar Point. But he was; and give him his back against a bulwark, he would have done the same by half a dozen of them. The name of the young mother was Mrs. Atherfield, the name of the young lady in black was Miss Coleshaw, and the name of the old gentleman was Mr. Rarx. As the child had a quantity of shining fair hair, clustering in curls all about her face, and as her name was Lucy, Steadiman gave her the name of the Golden Lucy. So, we had the Golden Lucy and the Golden Mary; and John kept up the idea to that extent as he and the child went playing about the decks, that I believe she used to think the ship was alive somehow-a sister or companion, going to the same place as herself. She liked to be by the wheel; and in fine weather, I have often stood by the man whose trick it was at the wheel, only to hear her, sitting near my feet, talking to the ship. Never.had a child such a doll before, I suppose; but she made a doll of the Golden Mary, and used to dress her up by tying ribbons and little bits of finery to the belaying-pins; and nobody ever moved them, unless it was to save them from being blown away. Of course I took charge of the two young women, and I called them "my dear," and they never minded, knowing that whatever I said was said in a fatherly and protecting spirit. I gave them their places on each side of me at dinner, Mrs. Atherfield on my right and Miss Coleshaw on my left; and I directed the unmarried lady to serve out the breakfast, and the married lady to serve out the tea. Likewise I said to my black steward in their presence, " Tom Snow, these two ladies are equally the mistresses of this house, and do you obey their orders equally;" at which Tom laughed, and they all laughed. Old Mr. Rarx was not a pleasant man to look at, nor yet to WRECK OF THE GOLDEN AMARY. 23 talk to, or to be with, for no one could help seeing that he was a sordid and selfish character, and that he had warped further and further out of the straight with time. Not but what he was on his best behavior with us, as everybody was; for we had no bickering among us, for'ard or. aft. I only rmean to say, he was not the man one would have chosen for a messmate. If choice there had been, one might even have gone a few points out of one's course, to say, "No I Not him!" But, there was one curious inconsiste4ry in Mr. Rarx. That was, that he took an astonishing interest in the child. lie looked; and I may add, he was, one of the last of men to care at all for a child, or to care much for any human creature. Still, he went so far as to be habitually uneasy, if the child was long on deck, out of his sight. He was always afraid of her falling overboard, or falling down a hatchway, or of a block or what not coming down upon her from the rigging in the working of the ship or of her getting some hurt or other. lie used to look at her and touch her, as if she was something precious to him. He was always solicitous about her not injuring her health, and constantly entreated her mother to be careful of it. This was so much the more curious, because the child did not like him, but used to shrink away from him, and would not even put out her hand to him without coaxing from others. I believe every soul on board fiequently noticed this, and that not one of us understood it. However, it was such a plain fact, that John Steadiman said more than once when old Mr. Rarx was not within earshot, that if the Golden Mary felt a tenderness for the dear old gentleman she carried in her lap, she must be bitterly jealous of the Golden Lucy. Before I go any further with this narrative, I will state that our ship was a barque of three hundred tons, carrying a crew of eighteen men, a second mate in addition to John, a carpenter, an armorer or smith, and two apprentices (one a Scotch boy, poor little fellow). We had three boats; the long-boat, capable of carrying twenty-five men; the cutter, capable of carrying fifteen; and the surf-boat, capable of carrying ten. I put down the capacity of these boats according to the numbers they were really meant to hold. We had tastes of bad weather and head-winds, of course; but, on the whole, we had as a fine a run as any reasonable man could expect, for sixty days. I then began to enter two remarks in the ship's Log and in my Journal; first, that there was an unusual and amazing quantity of ice; second, that the uights were most wonderfully dark, in spite of the ice. For five days and a half, it seemed quite useless and hopeless to alter the ship's course so as to stand out of the way of this ice. I made what southing I could; but, all that time, we were beset by it. Mrs. Atherfield after standing by me on 2A WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. deck once, looking for some time in an awed manner at the great bergs that surrounded us, said in a whisper, " O! Captain Ravender, it looks as if the whole solid earth had changed into ice, and broken up I" I said to her, laughing, "I don't wonder that it does, to your inexperienced' eyes, my dear." But I had never seen a twentieth part of the quantity; and, in reality, I was pretty much of her opinion. However, at two P. M. on the afternoon of the sixth day, that is to say, when we were sixty-six days out, John Steadiman, who had gone aloft, sang out from the top, that the sea was clear ahead. Before four P. i. a strong breeze springing up right astern, we were in open water at sunset. The breeze then freshening into half a gale of wind, and the Golden Mary being a very fast sailer, we went before the wind merrily, all night. I had thought it impossible that it could be darker than, it had been, until the sun, moon, and stars should fall out of the Heavens, and Time should be destroyed; but, it had been next to light, in comparison with what it was now. The darkness was so profound, that looking into it was painful and oppressive -like looking, without a ray of light, into a dense black bandage put as close before the eyes as it could be, without touching them. I doubled the look-out, and John and I stood in the bow side-by-side, never leaving it all night. Yet I should no more have known that he was near me when he was silent, without putting out my arm and touching him, than I should if he had turned in and been fast asleep below. We were not so much looking out, all of us, as listening to the utmost, both with our eyes and ears. Next day, I found that the mercury in the barometer, which had risen steadily since we cleared the ice, remained steady. I had had very good observations, with now and theu the interruption of a day or so, since our departure. I got the sun at noon, and found that we were in Lat. 560 S., Long. 600 W., off New South Shetland; in the neighborhood of Cape Horn. We were sixty-seven days out, that day. The ship's reckoning was accurately worked and made up. The ship did her duty admirably, all on board were well, and all hands were as smart, efficient, and contented, as it was possible to be. When the night came on again as dark as before, it was the eighth night I had been on deck. Nor had I taken more than a very little sleep in the day-time, my station being always near the helm, and often at it, while we were among the ice. Few but those who have tried it can imagine the difficulty and pain of only keeping the eyes open-physically open-under such circumstances, in such darkness. They get struck by the darkness, and blinded by the darkness. They make patterns in it, and they flash in it, as if they had gone out of your head to look at you. On the turn of midnight Johni Steadiman, who WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MIARY. 25 was alert and fresh (for I had always made him turn in by day), said to me, " Captain Ravender, I entreat of you to go below. I am sure you can hardly stand, and your voice is getting weak, sir. Go below, and take a little rest. I'll call you if a block chafes." I said to John in answer, "Well, well, John! Let us wait till the turn of one o'clock, before we talk about that." I had just had one of the ship's lanterns held up, that I might see how the night went by my watch, and it was then twenty minutes after twelve. At five minutes before one, John sang out to the boy to bring the lantern again, and, when I told him once more what the time was, entreated and prayed of me to go below. " Captain Ravender," says he, "all's well; we can't afford to have you laid up for a single hour; and I respectfully and earnestly beg of you to go below." The end of it was, that I agreed to do so, on the understanding that if I failed to come up of my own accord within three hours, I was to be punctually called. Having settled that, I left John in charge. But, I called him to me once afterward, to ask him a question. I had been to look at the barometer, and had seen the mercury still perfectly steady, and had come up the companion again, to take a last look about me-if I can use such a word in reference to such darkness —when I thought that the waves, as the Golden Mary parted them and shook them off, had a hollow sound in them; something that I fancied was a rather unusual reverberation. I was standing by the quarter-deck rail on the starboard side, when I called John aft to me, and bade him listen. He did so with the greatest attention. Turning to me he then said, "Rely upon it, Captain Ravender, you have been without rest too long, and the novelty is only in the state of your sense of hearing." I thought so too by that time, and I think so now, though I can never know for absolute certain in this world, whether it was or not. When I left John Steadiman in charge, the ship was still going at a great rate through the water. The wind still blew tight astern. Though she was making great way, she was under shortened sail, and had no more than she could easily carry. All was snug, and nothing complained. There was a pretty sea running, but not a very high sea neither, nor at all a confused one. I turned in, as we seamen say, all standing. The meaning of that, is, I did not pull my clothes off-no, not even so much as my coat: though I did my shoes, for my feet were badly swelled with the deck. There was a little swing-lamp alight in my cabin. I thought, as I looked at it before shutting my eyes, that I was so tired of darkness, and troubled by darkness, that I could have gone to sleep best in the midst of a million of flaming gas-lights. That was the last thought I 26 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. had before I went off, except the prevailing thought that i should not be able to get to sleep at all. I dreamed that I was back at Penrith again, and was trying to get round the church, which had altered its shape very much since I last saw it, and was cloven all down the middle of the steeple in a most singular manner. Why I wanted to get round the church, I don't know; but I was as anxious to do it as if my life depended on it. Indeed, I believe it did, in the dream. For all that, I could not get round the church. I was still trying, when I came against it with a violent shock, and was flung out of my cot against the ship's side. Shrieks and a terrific outcry struck me far harder than the bruising timbers, and amidst sounds of grinding and crashing, and a heavy rushing and breaking of water-sounds I understood too well-I made my way on deck. It was not an easy thing to do, for the ship heeled over frightfully, and was beating in a furious manner. I could not see the men as I went forward, but I could hear that they were hauling in sail, in disorder. I had my trumpet in my hand, and, after directing and encouraging them in this till it was done, I hailed first John Steadiman, and then my second mate, Mr. William Rames. Both answered clearly and steadily. Now, I had practiced them, and all my crew, as I have ever made it a custom to practice all who sail with me, to take certain stations, and wait my orders, in case of any unexpected crisis. When my voice was heard hailing, and their voices were heard answering, I was aware, through all the noises of the ship and sea, and all the crying of the passengers below, that there was a pause. "Are you ready, Rames?""Aye, aye, sir l"-" Then light up, for God's sake!" In a moment he and another were burning blue-lights, and the ship and all on board seemed to be enclosed in a mist of light, under a great black dome. The light shone up so high that I could see the huge Iceberg upon which we had struck, cloven at the top and down the middle, exactly like Penrith church in my dream. At the same momert I could see the watch last relieved, crowding up and down on deck; I could see Mrs. Atherfield and Miss Coleshaw thrown about on the top of the companion as they struggled to bring the child up from below; I could see that the masts were going with the shock and the beating of the ship; I could see the frightful breach stove in on the starboard side, half the length of the vessel, and the sheathing and timbers spirting up; I could see that the cutter was disabled, in a wreck of broken fragments; and I could see every eye turned upon me. It is my belief that if there had been ten thousand eyes there, I should have seen them all, with their different WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY, 27 looks. And all this in a moment. But you must consider what a moment. I saw the men, as they looked at me, fall toward their appointed stations, like good men and true. If she had not righted, they could have done very little there or anywhere but die-not that it is little for a man to die at his post —I mean they could have done nothing to save the passengers and themselves. Happily, however, the violence of the shock with which she had so determinedly borne down direct on that fatal Iceberg, as if it had been our destination instead of our destruction, had so smashed and pounded the ship that she got off in this same instant, and righted. I did not want the carpenter to tell me she was filling and going down; I could see and hear that. I gave Rames the word to lower the long-boat and the surf-boat, and I myself told off the men for each duty. Not one hung back, or came before the other. I now whispered to John Steadiman, " John, I stand at the gangway here, to see every soul on board safe over the side. You shall have the next post of honor, and shall be the last but one to leave the ship. Bring up the passengers, and range them behind me; and put what provision and water you can get at, in the boats. Cast your eye for'ard, John, and you'll see you have not a moment to lose." My noble fellows got the boats over the side, as orderly as I ever saw boats lowered with any sea running, and, when they were launched, two or three of the nearest men in them, as they held on, rising and falling with the swell, called out, looking up at me, " Captain Ravender, if any thing goes wrong with us and you are saved, remember we stood by you I"-" We'll all stand by one another ashore, yet, please God, my lads I" says I. "Hold on bravely, and be tender with the women." The women were an example to us. They trembled very much, but they were quiet and perfectly collected. " Kiss me, Captain Ravender," says Mrs. Atherfield, " and God in Heaven bless you, you good man I"': My dear," says I, " those words are better for me than a life-boat." I held her child in my arms till she was in the boat, and then kissed the child and handed her safe down. I now said to the people in her, "You have got your freight, my lads, all but me, and I am not coming yet awhile. Pull away from the ship, and keep off I" That was the long-boat. Old Mr. Rarx was one of her complement, and be was the only passenger who had greatly misbehaved since the ship struck. Others had been a little wild, which was not to be wondered at, and not very blamable; but, he had made a lamentation and uproar which it was dangerous for the people to hear, as there is always contagion in weakness and selfishness. His incessant cry had been that he must not be separated from the child, that he couldn't see 28 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. the child, and that he and the child must go together. He had even tried to wrest the child out of my arms, that he might keep her in his. "Mr. Rarx," said I to him when it came to that, "I have a loaded pistol in my pocket; and if you don't stand out of the gangway, and keep perfectly quiet, I shall shoot you through the heart, if you have got one." Says he, "You won't do murder, Captain Ravender?" "No, sir," says I, "I won't murder forty-four people to humor you, but I'll shoot you to save them." After that, he was quiet, and stood shivering a little way off, until I named him to go over the side. The long-boat being cast off, the surf-boat was soon filled. There only remained aboard the Golden Mary, John Mullion the man who had kept on burning the blue-lights (and who had lighted every new one at every old one before it went out, as quietly as if he had been at an illumination); John Steadiman; and myself. I hurried those two in the surf-boat, called to them to keep off, and waited with a grateful and relieved heart for the long-boat to come and take me in, if she could. I looked at my watch, and it showed me, by the blue-light, ten minutes past two. They lost no time. As soon as she was near enough, I swung myself into her, and called to the men, " With a will, lads I She's reeling I" We were not an inch too far out of the inner vortex of her going down, when, by the blue-light which John Mullion still burnt in the bow of the surf-boat, we saw her lurch, and plunge to the bottom headforemost. The child cried, weeping wildly, "0O the dear Golden Mary I O look at her I Save her! Save the poor Golden Mary I" And then the light burnt out, and the black dome seemed to come down upon us. I suppose if we had all stood a-top of a mountain, and seen the whole remainder of the world sink away from under us, we could hardly have felt more shocked and solitary than we did when we knew we were alone on the wide ocean, and that the beautiful ship in which most of us had been securely asleep within half an hour was gone forever. There was an awful silence in our boat, and such a kind of palsy on the rowers and the man at the rudder, that I felt they were scarcely keeping her before the sea. I spoke out then, and said, " Let every one here thank the Lord for our preservation I" All the voices answered (even the child's), "We thank the Lord I" I then said the Lord's Prayer, and all hands said it after me with a solemn murmuring. Then I gave the word, " Cheerily, 0 men, 4Cherrily I" and I felt that they were handling the boat again;as a boat ought to be handled. The surf-boat now burnt another blue-light to show us where they were, and we made for her, and laid ourselves as nearly alongside of her as we dared. I had always kept my boats WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 29 with a coil or two of good stout stuff in each of them, so both boats had a rope at hand. We made a shift, with much labor and trouble, to get near enough to one another to divide the blue-lights (they were no use after that night, for the sea-water soon got at them), and to get a tovw-rope out between us. All Dight long we kept together, sometimes obliged to cast of the rope, and sometimes getting it out again, and all of us wearying for the morning —which appeared so long in coming that old Mr. Rarx screamed out, in spite of his fears of me, "The world is drawing to an end, and the sun will never rise any more i" When the day broke, I found we were all huddled together in a miserable manner. We were deep in the water; being, as I found on mustering, thirty-one in number, or at least six too many. In the surf-boat they were fourteen in number, being at least four too many. The first thing I did was to get myself passed to the rudder-which I took from that time-and to get Mrs. Atherfield, her child, and Miss Coleshaw passed on to sit next to me. As to old Mr. Rarx, I put him in the bow, as far from us as I could. And I put some of the best men near us, in order that if I should drop, there might be a skillful hand ready to take the helm. The sea moderating as the sun came up, though the sky was cloudy and wild, we spoke the other boat to know what stores Qbey had, and to overhaul what we had. I had a compass in my pocket, a small telescope, a double-barreled pistol, a knife, and a fire-box and matches. Most of my men had knives, and some had a little tobacco: some, a pipe as well. We had a mug among us, and an iron spoon. As to provisions, there were in my boat two bags of biscuit, one piece of raw beef, one piece of raw pork, a bag of coffee, roasted but not ground (thrown in, I imagine, by mistake, for something else), two small casks of water, and about half-a-gallon of rum in a keg. The surf-boat, having rather more rum than we, and fewer to drink it, gave us, as I estimated, another quart into our keg. In return we gave them three double-handfuls of coffee, tied up in a piece of a handkerchief; they reported that they had aboard besides a bag of biscuit, a piece of beef, a small cask of water, a small box of lemons, and a Dutch cheese. It took a long time to make these exchanges, and they were not made without risk to both parties-the sea running quite high enough to make our approaching near to one another very hazardous. In the bundle with the coffee, I conveyed to John Steadiman (who had a ship's compass with him), a paper written in pencil, and torn from my pocket-book, containing the course I meant to steer, in the hope of making land, or being picked up by some vessel-I say in the hope, though I had little hope of either deliverance. I then sang out to him, so as all might hear, that 30 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. if we two boats could live or die together, we would; but that if we should be parted by the weather, and join company no more, they should have our prayers and blessings, and we asked for theirs. We then gave them three cheers, which they returned, and I saw the men's heads droop in both boats as they fell to their oars again. These arrangements had occupied the general attention advantageouslyfor all, though (as I expressed in the last sentence) they ended in a sorrowful feeling. I now said a few words to my fellow-voyagers on the subject of the small stock of food on which our lives depended if they were preserved from the great deep, and on the rigid necessity of our eking it out in the most frugal manner. One and all replied, that whatever allowance I thought best to lay down should be strictly kept to. We made a pair of scales out of a thin scrap of iron-plating and some twine, and I got together for weights such of the heaviest buttons among us as I calculated made up some fraction over two ounces. This was the allowance of solid food served out once a-day to each, from that time to the end-with the addition of a coffee-berry, or sometimes half a one, when the weather was very fair, for breakfast. We had nothing else whatever but half a pint of water each per day, and sometimes, when we were coldest and weakest, a teaspoonful of rum each, served out as a dram. I know how learnedly it can be shown that rum is poison, but I also know that in this case, as in all similar cases I have ever read of-which are numerous-no words can express the comfort and support derived from it. Nor have I the least doubt that it saved the lives of far more than half our number. Having mentioned half a pint of water as our daily allowance, I ought to observe that sometimes we had less, and sometimes we had more; for much rain fell, and we caught it in a canvas stretched for that purpose.. Thus, at the tempestuous time of the year, and in that tempestuous part of the world, we shipwrecked people rose and fell with the waves. It is not my intention to relate (if I can avoid it) such circumstances appertaining to our doleful condition as have been better told in many other narratives of the kind than I can be expected to tell them. I will only note, in so many passing words, that day after day and night after night we received the sea upon our backs to prevent it from swamping the boat; that one party was always kept bailing, and that every hat and cap among us soon got worn out, though patched up fifty times, as the only vessels we had for that service; that another party lay down in the bottom of the boat, while a third rowed; and that we were soon all in boils and blisters and rags. The other boat was a source of such anxious interest to all of us, that I used to wonder whether, if we were saved, the time could ever come when the survivors in this boat of ours WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 81 could be at all indifferent to the fortunes of the survivors in that. We got out a tow-rope whenever the weather permitted, but that did not often happen, and how we two parties kept within the same horizon, as we did, He, who mercifully permitted it to be so for our consolation, only knows. I never shall forget the looks with which, when the morning light came, we used to gaze about us over the stormy waters for the other boat. We once parted company for seventy-two hours, and we believed them to have gone down, as they did us. The joy on both sides, when we came within view of one another again, had something in a manner Divine in it; each was so forgetful of individual suffering, in tears of delight and sympathy for the people in the other boat. I have been wanting to get round to the individual or personal part of my subject, as I call it, and the foregoing incident puts me in the right way. The patience and good disposition aboard of us was wonderful. I was not surprised by it in the women, for all men born of women know what great qualities they will show when men will fail; but I own I was a little surprised by it in some of the men. Among one-and-thirty people assembled at the best of times there will usually, I should say, be two or three uncertain tempers. I knew that I had more than one rough temper with me among my own people, for I had chosen those for the long-boat that I might have them under my eye. But they softened under their misery, and were as considerate of the ladies, and as compassionate of the child, as the best among us, or among men-they could not have been more so. I heard scarcely any complaining. The party lying down would moan a good deal in their sleep, and 1 would often notice a mannot always the same man, it is to be understood, but nearly all of them at one time or other-sitting moaning at his oar, or in his place, as he looked mistily over the sea. When it happened to be long before I could catch his bye, he would go on moaning all the time in the dismallest manner; but when our looks met, he would brighten and leave off. I almost always got the impression that he did not know what sound he had been making, but that he thought he had been humming a tune. Our sufferings from cold and wet were far greater than our sufferings from hunger. We managed to keep the child warm; but I doubt if any one else among us ever was warm for five minutes together; and the shivering, and the. chattering of teeth, were sad to hear. The child cried a little at first for her lost playfellow, the Golden Mary, but hardly ever whimpered arterwarci; anc when the state of the weather made it possible, she used now and then to be held up in the arms of some of us to look over the sea for John Steadiman's boat. I see the 2 32 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. golden hair and the innocent face now, between me and the driving clouds, like an angel going to fly away. It had happened on the second day, toward night, that Mrs. Atherfield, in getting little Lucy to sleep, sang her a song She had a soft, melodious voice, and when she had finished it, onr people up and begged for another. She sang them another, and after it had fallen dark ended with the Evening Hymn. From that time whenever any thing could be heard above the sea and wind, and while she had any voice left, nothing would serve the people but that she should sing at sunset. She always did, and always ended with the Evening Hymn. We mostly took up the last line, and shed tears when it was done, but not miserably. We had a prayer night and morning, also, when the weather allowed of it. Twelve nights and eleven days we had been driving in the boat when old Mr. Rarx began to be delirious, and to cry out to me to throw the gold overboard or it would sink us, and we should all be lost. For days past the child had been declining, and that was the great cause of his wildness. He had been over and over again shrieking out to me to give her all the remaining meat, to give her all the remaining rum, to save her at any cost or we should all be ruined. At this time she lay in her mother's arms at my feet. One of her little hands was almost always creeping about her mother's neck or chin. I had watched the wasting of the little hand, and I knew it was nearly over. The old man's cries were so discordant with the mother's love and submission, that I called out to him in an angry voice, unless he held his peace on the instant I would order him to be knocked on the head and thrown overboard. He was mute then until the child died, very peacefully, an hour afterward: which was known toeall in the boat by the mother breaking out into lamentations for the first time since the wreck-for she had great fortitude and constancy, though she was a little gentle woman. Old Mr. Rarx then became quite ungovernable, tear. ing what rags he had on him, raging in imprecations, and calling to me that if I had thrown the gold overboard (always the gold with him I) I might have saved the child, "And now," says he, in a terrible voice, "we shall founder, and all go to the Devil, for our sins will sink us when we have no innocent child to bear us up!" We so discovered, with amazement, that this old wretch had only cared for the life of the pretty little creature, dear to all of us, because of the influence he superstitiously hoped she might have in preserving him I Altogether it was too much for the smith or armorer, who was sitting next the old man, to bear. He took him by the throat and rolled him under the thwarts, where tne lay still enough for hours afterward WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 33 All that thirteenth night, Miss Coleshaw, lying across my knees as I kept the helm, comforted and supported the poor mother. Her child, covered with a pea-jacket of mille, lay in her lap. It troubled me all night to think that there was no Prayer-Book among us, and that I could remember but very few of the exact words of the burial service. When I stood up at broad day, all knew what was going to be done, and I noticed that my poor fellows made the motion of uncovering their heads, though their heads had been stark bare to the sky and sea for many a weary hour. There was a long heavy swell on, but otherwise it was a fair morning, and there were broad fields of sunlight on the waves in the east. I said no more than this. "I am the Resurrection and the Life, saith the Lord. He raised the daughter of Jairus the ruler, and said she was not dead but slept. He raised the widow's son. lie arose himself, and was seen of many. He loved little ohildren, saying Suffer them to come unto me and rebuke them not, for of such is the kingdom of Heaven. In His name, my friends, and committed to His merciful goodness I" With those words I laid my rough face softly on the placid little forehead, and buried the Golden Lucy in the grave of the Golden Mary. Having had it on my mind to relate the end of this dear little child, I have omitted something from its exact place, which I will supply here. It will come quite as well here as anywhere else. Foreseeing that if the boat lived through the stormy weather, the time must come, and soon come, when we should have absolutely no morsel to eat, I had one momentous point often in my thoughts. Although I had, years before that, fully satisfied myself that the instances in which human beings in the last distress have fed upon each other, are exceedingly few, and have very seldom indeed (if. ever) occurred when the people in distress, however dreadful their extremity, have been accustomed to moderate forbearance and restraint-I say, though I had, long before, quite satisfied my mind on this topic, I felt doubtfal whether there might not have been in former cases some harm and danger from keeping it out of sight and pretending not to think it. I felt doubtful whether some minds, growing weak with fasting and exposure, and having such a terrific idea to dwell upon in secret, might not magnify it until it got to have an awful attraction about it. This was not a new thought of mine, for it had grown out of my reading. However, it came over me stronger than it had ever done before -,as it had reason for doing-in the boat, and on the fourth day I decided that I would bring out into the light that unformed fear which must have been more or less darkly in every brain among us. Therefore, as a means of beguiling the time and inspiring hope, I gave them the best summary in my power 34 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. of Bligh's voyage of more than three thousand miles, in an open boat, after the Mutiny of the Bounty, and of the wonderful preservation of that boat's crew. They listened throughout with great interest, and I concluded by telling them, that, in my opinion, the happiest circumstance in the whole narrative was, that Bligh, who was no delicate man either, had solemnly placed it on record therein that he was sure and certain that under no conceivable circurhstances whatever, would that emaciated party, who had gone through all the pains of famine, have preyed on one another. I cannot- describe the visible relief which this spread through the boat, and how the tears stood in every eye. From that time I was as well convinced as Bligh himself that there was no danger, and that this phantom, at any rate, did not haunt us. Now, it was a part of Bligh's experience that when the people in his boat were most cast down, nothing did them so much good as hearing a story told by one of their number. When I mentioned that, I saw that it struck the general attention as much as it did my own, for I had not thought of it until I came to it in my summary. This was on the day after Mrs. Atherfield first sang to us. I proposed that whenever the weather would permit, we should have a story two hours after dinner (I always issued the allowance I have mentioned, at one o'clock and called it by that name), as well as our song at sunset. The proposal was received with a cheerful satisfaction that warmed my heart within me; and I do not say too much when I say that those two periods in the four-and-twenty hours were expected with positive pleasure, and were really enjoyed by all hands. Spectres as we soon were in our bodily wasting our imaginations did not perish like the gross flesh upon our bones. Music and adventure, two of the great gifts of Providence to mankind, could charm us long after that was lost. The wind was almost always against us after the second day; and for many days together we could not nearly hold our own. We had all varieties of bad weather. We had rain, hail, snow, wind, mist, thunder and lightning. Still the boats lived through the heavy seas, and still we perishing people rose and fell with the great waves. Sixteen nights and fifteen days, twenty nights and nineteen days, twenty-four nights and twenty-three days. So the time went on. Disheartening as I knew that our progress, or want of progress, must be, I never deceived them as to my calculations of it. In the first place, I felt that we were all too near eternity for deceit; in the second place, I knew that if I failed, or died, the man who followed me must have a knowledge of the true state of things to begin upon. When I told them at noon, what I reckoned we had made or lost, they generally received what I said in a tranquil and resigned manner, and WRECK OF THEi GOLDEN MARY. 85 always gratefully toward me. It was not unusual at any time of the day for some one to burst out weeping loudly without any new cause, and, when the burst was over, to calm down a little better than before. I had seen exactly the same thing in a house of mourning. During the whole of this time, old Mr. Rarx had had his fits of calling out to me to throw the gold (always the gold I) overboard, and of heaping violent reproaches upon me for not having saved the child; but, now, the food being all gone, and I had nothing left to serve out but a bit of coffee-berry now and then, he began to be too weak to do this, and consequently fell silent. Mrs. Atherfield and Miss Coleshaw generally lay, each with an arm across one of my knees, and her head upon it. They never complained at all. Up to the time of her child's death, Mrs. Atherfield had bound up her own beautiful hair every day; and I took particular notice that this was always before she sang her song at night, when every one looked at her. But, she never did it after the loss of her darling; and it would have been now all tangled with dirt and wet, but that Miss Coleshaw was careful of it long after she was herself, and would sometimes smooth it down with her weak thin hands. We were past mustering a story now; but one day, at about this period, I reverted to the superstition of old Mr. Rarx, concernilg the Golden Lucy, and told them that nothing vanished from the eye of God, though much might pass away from the eyes of man. "We were all of us," says I, "children once; and our baby feet have strolled in green woods ashore; and our baby hands have gathered flowers in gardens, where the birds were singing. The children that we were, are not lost to the great knowledge of our Creator. These innocent creatures will appear with us before Him, and plead for us. What we were in the best time of our generous youth will arise and go with us too. The purest part of our lives will not desert us at the pass to which all of us being present are gliding. What we were then, will be much as in existence before Him, as what we are now." They were no less comforted by this consideration, than I was myself; and Miss Coleshaw, drawing my ear nearer to her lips, said, " Captain Ravender, I was on my way to marry a disgraced and broken man, whom I dearly loved when he was honorable and good. Your words seem to: hate come out of my own poor heart." She pressed my hand upo'n it, smiling. Twenty-seven nights and twenty-six days. We were in no want of rain-water, but we had nothing else. And yet, even now, I never turned my eyes upon a waking face but it tried to brighten before mine. O 1 what a thing it is in a time of danger, and in the presence of death, the shining of a face upon a face I I have heard it broached that orders should be given in WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. great new ships by electric telegraph. I admire machinery as much as any man, and am as thankful to it as any man can be for what it does for us. But, it will never be a substitute for the face of a man, with his soul in it, encouraging another to be brave and true. Never try it for that. It will break down like straw. I now began to remark certain changes in myself which I did not like. They caused me much disquiet. I often saw the Golden Lucy in the air above the boat. I often saw her I have spoken of before sitting beside me. I saw the Golden Mary go down as she really had gone down, twenty times in a day. And yet the sea was mostly, to my thinking, not sea either, but moving country and extraordinary mountainous regions, the like of which have never been beheld. I felt it time to leave my last words regarding John Steadiman, in case any lips should last out to repeat them to any living cars. I said that John had told me (as he had on deck) that he had sung out "Breakers ahead 1" the instant they were audible, and had tried to wear ship, but she struck before it could be done. (His cry, I dare say, had made my dream.) I said that the circumstances were altogether without warning, and out of any course that could have been guarded against; that the same loss would have happened if I had been in charge; and that John was not to blame, but from first to last had done his duty nobly, like the man he was. I tried to write it down in my pocket-book, but could make no words, though I knew what the words were that I wanted to make. When it had come to that, her handsthough she was dead so long —laid me down gently in the bottom of the boat, and she and the Golden Lucy swung me to sleep. All that follows was written by John Steadiman, chief mate. Qn the twenty-sixth day after the foundering of the Golden Mary at sea, I, John Steadiman, was sitting in my place in the stern sheets of the surf-boat, with just sense enough left in me to steer —that is to say, with my eyes strained, wide awake, over the bows of the boat, and my brains fast asleep and dreaming-when I was roused upon a sudden by our second mate, Mr. William Rames. "Let me take a spell in your place," says he. "And look you out for the long-boat astern. The last time she rose on the crest of a wave, I thought I made out a signal flying aboard her." We shifted our places, clumsily and slowly enough, for we were both of us weak and dazed with wet, cold, and hunger. I waited some time, watching the heavy rollers astern, before the long-boat rose a-top of one of them at the same time with us. At last, she was heaved up for a moment well in view, and there, sure enough, was the signal flying aboard of her-a WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 37 strip of rag of some some sort, rigged to an oar, and hoisted in her bows. "What does it mean?" says Rames to me in a quivering, trembling sort of voice. Do they signal a sail in sight?" " Hush, for God's sake I" says 1, clapping my hand over his mouth. "Don't let the people hear you. They'll all go mad together, if we mislead them about that signal. Wait a bit, till I have another look at it." I held on by him, for he had set me all of a tremble with his notion of a sail in sight, and watched for the long-boat again. Up she rose on the top of another roller. I made out the signal clearly, that second time, and saw that it was rigged halfmast high, " Rames," says I, " its a signal of distress. Pass the word forward to keep her before the sea, and no more. We must get the long-boat within hailing distance of us, as soon as possible. " I dropped down into my old place at the tiller without ancther word, for the thought went through me like a knife that something had happened to Captain Ravender. I should con, sider myself unworthy to write another line of this statement, if I had not made up my mind to speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth-and I must, therefore, confess plainly that now, for the first time, my heart sank within me. This weakness on my part was produced in some degree, as I take it, by the exhausting effects of previous anxiety and grief Our provisions-if I may give that name to what we had left-were reduced to the rind of one lemon and about a couple of handsful of coffee-berries. Besides these great distresses, caused by the death, the danger, and the suffering among my crew and passengers, I had had a little distress of my own to shake me still more, in the death of the child whom I had got to be very fond of on the voyage out-so fond that I was secretly a little jealous of her being taken in the long-boat instead of mine when the ship foundered. It used to be a great comfort to me, and I think to those with me also, after we had seen the last of the Golden Mary, to see the Golden Lucy, held up by the men in the long-boat, when the weather allowed it, as the best and brightest sight they had to show. She looked at the distance we saw her from, almost like a little white bird in the air. To miss her for the first time, when the weather lulled a little again, and we all looked out for our white bird, and looked in vain, was a sore disappointment. To see the men's heads bowed down, and the captain's hand pointing into the sea when we hailed the long-boat, a few days after, gave me as heavy a shock and as sharp a pang of heartache to bear as ever I remember suffering in all my life. I only mention these things to show that if I did give way a little at first, 38 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN IMARY. under the dread that our captain was lost to us, it was not without having been a good deal shaken beforehand by more trials of one sort or another than often fall to one man's share. I had got over the choking in my throat with the help of a drop of water, and had steadied my mind again so as to be prepared against the worst, when I heard the hail (Lord help the poor fellows, how weak it sounded I)"Surf-boat, ahoy!" I looked up, and there were our companions in misfortune tossing abreast of us; not so near that we could make out the features of any of them, but near enough, with some exertion, for people in our condition to make their voices heard in the intervals when the wind was weakest. I answered the hail, and waited a bit, and heard nothing, and then sung out the captain's namine. The voice that replied did not sound like his; the words that reached us were: "Chief mate wanted on board!" Every man of my crew knew what that meant as well as I did. As second officer in command, there could be but one reason for wanting me on board the long-boat. A groan went all round us, and my men looked darkly in each other's faces, and whispered under their breaths:'; The captain is dead!" I commanded them to be silent, and not to mak3 too sure of bad news, at such a pass as things had now come to with us. Then, hailing the long-boat, I signified that I was ready to go on board when the weather would let me —stopped a bit to draw a good long breath-and then called out as loud as I could the dreadful question: "Is the captain dead?" The black figures of three or four men in the after-part of the long-boat all stooped. down together as my voice reached them. They were lost to view for about a minuite; then appeared again-one man among them was held up on his feet by the rest, and he hailed back the blessed words (a very faint hope went a very long way with people in our desperate situation): " Not yet!" The relief felt by me, and by all with me, when we knew that our captain, though unfitted for duty, was not lost to us, it is not in words-at, least, not in such words as a man like me can command-to express. I did my best to cheer the men by telling them what a good sign it was that we were not as badly off yet as we had feared; and then communicated what instructions I had to give, to William Rames, who was to be left in command in my place when I took charge of the longboat. After that, there was nothing to be done, but to wait for the chance of the wind dropping at sunset, and the sea WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 39 going down afterward, so as to enable our weak crews to lay the two boats alongside of each other, without undue risk-or, to put it plainer, without saddling ourselves with the necessity for any extraordinary exertion of strength or skill. Both the one and the other had now been starved out of us for days and days together. At sunset the wind suddenly dropped, but the sea, which had been running high for so long a time past, took hours after that before it showed any signs of getting to rest. The moon was shilling, the sky was wonderfully clear, and it could not have been, according to my calculations, far off midnight, when the long, slow, regular swell of the calming ocean fairly set in, and I took the responsibility of lessening the distance between the long-boat and ourselves. It was, I dare say, a delusion of mine; but I thought I had never seen the moon shine so white and ghastly anywhere, either at sea or on land, as she shone that night while we were approaching our companions in misery. When there was not much more than a boat's length between us, and the white light streamed cold and clear over all our faces, both crews rested on their, oars with one great shudder, and stared over the gunwale of either boat, panic-stricken at the first sight of each other. " Any lives lost among you?" I asked, in the midst of that frightful silence. The men in the long-boat huddled together like sheep at the sound of my voice. " None yet, but the child, thanks be to God!" answered one among them. And at the sound of his-voice, all my men shrank together like the men in the long-boat. I was afraid to let the horror produced by our first meeting at close quarters after the dreadful changes that wet, cold, and famine had produced, last one moment longer than co-uld t djp ~; N, w-it;hout giving time for any more questions and answers, I commanded the men to lay the two boats close alongside of each other. Wheb I rose up and committed the tiller to the hands of Rames, all my poor fellows raised'their white faces imploringly to mine. " Don't leave us, sir," they said, "don't leave us."'I leave you,"says I, "under the command and guidance of Mr. William Rames, as good a sailor as I am, and as trusty and kind a man as ever stepped. Do your duty by him, as you have done it by me; and remember, to the last, that while there is life there is hope. God bless and help you all 1" With those words, I collected what strength I had left, caught at two arms that were held out to me, and so got from the stern-sheets of one boat into the stern-sheets of the other. "Mind where you step, sir," whispered one of the men who had helped me into the long-boat. I looked down as he spoke. 40 WRECR OF THE GOLDEN MARY. Three figures were huddled up below me, with the moonshine falling upon them in ragged streaks through the gaps between the men standing or sitting above them. The first face I made out was the face of Miss Coleshaw; her eyes were wide open, and fixed on me. She seemed still to keep her senses, and, by the alternate parting and closing of her lips, to be trying to Speak, but I could not hear that she uttered a single word. On her shoulder rested the head of Mrs. Atherfield. The mother of our poor little golden Lucy must, I think, have been dreaming of the child she had lost, for there was a faint smile just ruffling the white stillness of her face, when I first saw it turned upward, with the peaceful eyes closed toward the heavens. From her I looked down a little, and there, with his head on her lap, and with one of her hands resting tenderly on his cheek, there lay the captain, to whose help and guidance, up to this miserable time, we had never looked in vain-there, wPrn out at last in our service, and for our sakes, lay the best and bravest man in all of our company. I stole my hand in gently through his clothes and laid it on his heart, and felt a little feeble warmth over it, though my cold, dulled touch could not detect even the faintest beating. The two men in the- stern-sheets with me, noticing what I was doing —knowing I loved him like _brother-and seeing, I suppose, more distress in my face than I myself was conscious of its showing, lost command over themselves altogether, and burst into a piteous moaning, sobbing lamentation over him. One of the two drew aside a jacket from his feet and showed me that they were bare, except where a wet ragged strip of stocking still clung to one of them. When the ship struck the iceberg he had run on deck, leaving his shoes in his cabin. All through the voyage in the boat his feet had been unprotected, and not a soul had discovered it until he dropped I As long as he could keep his eyes open, the very look of them had cheered the men, and comforted and upheld the women. Not one living creature in the boat, with any sense about him, but had felt the good influence of that brave man in one way or another. Not one but had heard him, over and over again, give the credit to the others which was due only to himself-praising this man for patience and thank-l ing that man for help, when the patience and the help had really and truly, as to the best part of both, come only from him. All this, and much more, I heard pouring confusedly from the men's lips while they crouched down, sobbing and crying over their commander, and wrapping the jacket as warmly and as tenderly as they could over his cold feet. It went to my heart to cheqk them, but I knew that if this lamenting spirit spread any further, all chance of keeping alight any last sparks of hope and resolution among the boat's company would be lost forever. Accordingly I sent them to their places, spoke a few encounr WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 41 aging words to the men forward, promising to serve out, when the morning came, as much as I dared of any eatable thing left in the lockers; called to Rames, in my old boat, to keep as near us as he safely could; drew the garments and coverings of the two poor suffering women more closely about them, and, with a secret prayer to be directed for the best in bearing the awful responsibility now laid on my shoulders, took my captain's vacant place at the helm of the long-boat. This, as well as I ban tell it, is the full and true account of how I came to be placed in charge of the lost passengers and crew of The Golden Mary, on the morning of the twentyseventh day after the ship struck the Iceberg, and foundered at sea. Before I go on to relate what happened after the two boats were under my command, I will stop a little here, for the purpose of adding some pages of writing to the present narrative, without which it would not be, in my humble estimation, complete. I allude to some little record of the means by whichbefore famine and suffering dulled our ears and silenced our tongues —we shortened the weary hours, and helped each other to forget, for a while, the dangers that encompassed us. The stories to which Captain Ravender has referred, as having been related by the people in his boat, were matched by other stories, related by the people in my boat; and, in both cases, as well I know, the good effect of our following, in this matter, the example of Bligh and his men, when they were adrift like us, was of unspeakable importance in keeping up our spirits, and, by consequence, in giving us the courage which was necessary, under Providence, to the preservation of our lives. I shall therefore ask permission, before proceeding to the account of our Deliverance, to reproduce in this place three or four of the most noteworthy of the stories which circulated among us. Some, I give from remembrance; some, which I did not hear, from the remembrance of others. BOOK THE SECOND THE BEGUILEMENT IN THE BOATS. I COME from Ashbrooke. (It was the Armorer who spun this yarn.) Dear me I how many years back is that'? T venty years ago it must be now-long before I ever thought of going to sea-before I let rambling notions get into my head —when I used to walk up the street singing, and thinking' of the time when I should come to have a forge of my own. It was a pretty sight to look down Ashbrooke, especially on a fine summer's day, when the sun was out. Why, I've been told painters would come from miles off, purposely to put it down on paper, and you'd see them at turnings of the road, and under trees working away like bees. And no wonder; for I have seen pictures enough in my day, but none to go near that. I've often wished I could handle a brush like some of those people-just enough, you know, to make a little picture of it for myself, to bring about with me, and hang up over my hammock. For that matter, I am looking at it this moment, standing, as it might be, at the corner of the road, looking down the slope. There was the old church, just here on the right, with a slanting roof running to the ground, almost. You might walk round it for a month and not see a bare stone, the moss grew so thick all over it. It was very pleasant of Sundays, standing by and seeing the village folk trooping out of the porch, and hearing the organ-music playing away inside I Then, going down the hill a little further on, you met queer, old-fashioned houses, with great shingole reofo. Bieyond that, again, was a pnu.zling bit of building, like the half of a churchwindow, standing up quite stiff by itself. They used to say there had once been an abbey or nunnery in these parts, full of clergymen and clergywomen, in the old papist times, of course; and there were little bits of it sticking up all over the place. Then more old houses (How the moss did grow to be sure!), until you passed by the Joyful Heart Inn, where every traveler pulled up to refresh himself and his nag. MIany is the pleasant hour I've spent in the Joyful Heart, sitting in the cool porch with the ivy hanging down overhead, or by the great fireplace in the sanded kitchen. There was a sort of open place in front of the Joyful Heart, with a market-cross in the middle, and a spring where the (42) WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY 43 young women used to come for water, and stand talking there, telling each other the news. The painters used to put them down too-spring and all; and I don't wonder at their fancying them. For, when I was sitting that way in the porch, looking out at them, the red petticoats, and the queer jars, and the old cross, and the sun going down behind, made a kind of picture very pretty to look at. I've seen the same of it many a time in some of those places about the Spanish Main, when the foreign women stood round about and carried their jars in the same fashion. Only there was no Joyful Heart. I always missed the Joyful Heart in such places. Neither was there the Great Forge just over the way, facing the Joyful Heart. I must put in a word here about the Forge, though I have been a long time coming round to the point. I never saw such a forge as that-never! It must have been another bit of the old Abbey, the great gate most likely, for it was nothing but a huge, wide, archway. Very handsomely worked, though, and covered with moss like the rest. There was a little stone hutch at the top, that looked like a belfry. The bell was gone long ago, of course, but the rings were there, and the stauncheons, all soundly made-good work as I could have turned out myself. Some one had run up a bit of building at the back, which kept out the wind and made all snug, and there you had as handsome a forge as I ever came across. It was kept by a young man of the name of Whichelo-Will Whichelo. But he had another name besides that, and I think a better one. If you were to ask through the village for one Will Whichelo, why, you would come back about as wise as you went; unless, indeed, you chanced upon the minister or the schoolmaster. No; but because he Was always seen hard at his work, swinging his hammer with good-will, and stepping back at every stroke to get a better sweep-because he laid his whole soul to the business- the Ashbrooke folk christened him Ding Dong Will. He was always singing and at his work. Many a nice young woman of the village would have been glad if Ding Dong Will had looked her way. But he never took heed of any of them, or was more than civil and gentle with them. "Look ye," he would say, leaning on his great hammer, " are they the creatures for handling cold iron, or lifting the sledge? No, no i" and would take up his favorite stave of Harnmer and anvil! hammer and anvil I lads, yoho I I was but a youngster at that time, but had a great hankering after the iron business. I would be nothing else, I told my father, who wanted to send meutip to Lond-on to learn accounts. I was always dropping down there, and would stay half the day, leaning against the arch and watching the forging 44 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. Coming along of a night, I used to get quite cheerful when I saw the blaze of the furnace, and the chinking of the iron was the finest music for me I ever heard-finer than the organ tunes even. Sdmetimes a dusty rider would come galloping in, and pull up sharp at the Forge; he had cast a shoe on the road, and Ding Dong Will would come out and take the horse's measure. Then the village folk would get standing round, in twos and threes, all of them eyeing over the horse and the rider, too. Then he would get upon his nag once more, and the little crowd would open, and he ride away harder than he came, Ding Dong Will, with his hammer over his shoulder, looking after him till he got to the turn of the hill. At last, my father came round and gave up making me a clerk-it would never have done-and Ding Dong Will, who had a liking for me, agreed to take me at the Forge. I soon got to use the big sledge fairly enough-nothing, of course, to Ding Dong Will; and so we worked away from morning till night, like two Jolly Millers. There was fine music at the Forge, when the two of us were at it. Ding Dong Will never went to the Joyful Heart; he said he had no time to be idle; but I went pretty often-that is, when the day was done and work over-just to have a talk in the cool porch, and hear what company was in the house. For, Miss Arthur-Mary Arthur-she that used to sit in the parlor and manage the house, was never very stand-off to me. But she had a reason of her own for that, as you will see. She was a niece to old Joe Fenton, the landlord, who brought her down from London to keep things going. In short, she was as good as mistress there. Folks said she kept her head a little high; but, to say truth, I never found her so. She had had her schooling up in London, and had learned manners with the best of them, so it was but nature she should be a stroke above the girls of tie place. That was why they didn't like her. About her looks? AhI she was a beauty I Such hair —it went nigh down to her feet —and her eyes-why they shot fire like a pair of stars-and she had a way of shifting them back and forward, and taking your measure at every look, that made you feel quite uneasy. All the young fellows were by the ears about her, but she never heeded or encouraged them; unless it might be that she had a leaning to one-and that was to Ding Doug Will opposite. No one thought of such a thing, she kept it so close; but she might as well have had a leaning to a lump of cold iron, The way I came to suspect it was this. The old Forge, as I said, was just fronting the Joyful Heart; and, every morning, as sure as I came d6wn to work, I used to see her sitting in the bow-window, behind the white curtain, working with her needle. There she would be all the morning, for at that time WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 45 there was nothing doing down stairs, and, every now and again, she would be taking a sly look over at the Forge where Ding Dong Will was swinging his great sledge, and trolling his Hammer and anvil I lads, yoho I He was well worth looking out at, was Ding Dong Will. I used to tell him, "Mary Arthur Is making eyes at you yonder-have a care, Will." And he would laugh loud, and say, " She may find better sport elsewhere. No sweethearts for me, lad. Hand the file. Sing Rammer and anvil, yoho l" I never saw so insensible a fellow, never. But her liking slipped out in more ways than that. Whenever I went in, she was always taking notice of me, and asking about myself. How was I getting on at the Forge? Did I like the business? Did we do much? What kind was he, the other-he with the curious name? Then she would laugh, and show her white teeth. At last, one Saturday evening I was sitting in the porch, looking at the children playing in the road, when I heard a step at the back, and there was Mary Arthur standing behind me. "Resting after the week?" she said. "Yes, and a hard week we've had of it." "Ngthing doing at the Forge now, I suppose," says she. (He had gone down to the green with the young fellows to throw the bar.) "No,' says I; "we've let the fire out, and will rest till Monday." She stayed silent for a minute, and then-" Why does heWhichelo I mean —keep shut up that way at home?" She was beating her hands impatiently together. "What does it all mean? What do you make of it?" I stared, you may be sure, she spoke so sharply. "Does he never go out and see the world-go to dances or merry-makings?" "No," said I; "never." "Well," said she, "isn't it odd; how do you account for it?" "Well, it is odd," I said. "And he so young?" All this while she was shiftipg her black eyes in a restless kind of way. "You should try," says she, "and get him to mix more with the others, for your own sake as well as his." I was going to tell her I was at him morning, noon, and night, when the bell rang, and she tripped off. Ding Dong Will came into the Forge that night, fairly tired and done up. "Beat them as usual 1" he said, as he flung himself down on the bench. "I knew you would," I said. 46 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. "But it was thirsty work: some drink, for Heaven's sake I" "There's not a drop of malt in the house," I said. "Well, go over and fetch some." Said I, " Go yourself. I tell you what, there's a nice girl there always talking of you; and, if you've any thing of a man about you, you'll go over and speak her softly, and show her you're not what she takes you for. Now, there's my mind for you, Ding Dong Will." " Stuff;" says he, laughing; "let her mind her own business, and leave me to my anvil. I'll not go." "Ah! you're afraid," said I-" that's it 1" "Afraid," says he, starting up; "you know I'm not-you know I'm not. Here, I'll go," and made straight for the door. "Stop," he said, turning round, " what did she say about taking me for a different sort of man?" " No matter now," said I. "When you come back." It should have been a five minutes' job, that fetching the malt. But, would you believe it? he was close upon an hour about it. I knew well she had not been losing her time. When he came in, I began at once at him: " Ah, ah!" said I, "didn't I tell you? I knew it!" "Nonsense," said he, with a foolish kind of laugh, "it was none of my fault. She kept me there with her talk, and I couldn't get away." "0, poor Ding Dong Will," I said, "you had better have stayed away, after all I" "Folly!" says he, laughing more foolishly still; "you'll see if she gets me there again. Enough about her. There I" I saw he was uneasy in his mind, and so gave him no more trouble. But I needn't have been so delicate with him at all, for next day it was quite the other way. He never gave me peace or rest, sounding me and picking out of me what she had said of him. The man was clean gone from that hour. It's always the way with those kind of men: when they are touched, they run off like a bit of melted metal. He got worse every day from that out. He was in and out of the Joyful Heart half his time, always on some excuse or other, and going lazily to his work, stopping every now and again to have a look at the white curtain over the way. It was a poor thing to see him-it was indeed; I was ashamed of him. At last he came to doing nothing at all, or next to nothing; and the great hammer was laid by in a corner. Well, this went on, it might be for a month, and folks in the village began to talk and wink, and say, what would come next, now that Ding Dong Will was caught at last. I tried to keep things going as well as I could, but it was of very little use. The business fell off; and I never will forget the sinking feel I got when the riders began to go straight on through the village WRECK OF THE GOLDIEN MARY. 47 -past the old Forge-and pull up at a new place, lately opened, beyond the church I After all they only did what was natural, and went where they would be best attended to. By-and-by I saw a change coming on Ding Dong Will-a very odd change. With all his foolishness, he"had been in great spirits-always laughing-without much meaning to be sure; but, still as I say, in great spirits. But now, I saw that he was turning quite another way, getting quite a down-hearted, moping kind of manner, I couldn't well make out. He would come in of an evening-very rough and sulky-and sit down before the fire looking into the coals, and never open his mouth for hours at a time. Then he would get up and walk up and down, stamping and muttering-nothing very holy, you may be sure. I soon guessed-indeed, I heard as much in the village-that she was drawing off a bit-or else trying her play-acting upon him, for she was full of those kind of tricks. She was a very deep one, that Mary Arthur, and it was a pity she ever came into the place. She had a kind of up-and-down way of treating himone time being all smiles and pleasantness, and next day like a lump of ice,-pretending not to see him when he came in. She made him, know his place-rolling her black eyes back and forward in every direction but his; then he would come home raging and swearing. I often wondered what she could be at, or what was at the bottom of it all; and, I believe, I would never have come at the truth if I didn't happen one day to run up against a handsome-looking gentleman in a fisherman's hat, just at the door of the Joyful Heart. They told me, inside, it was young Mr. Temple, of Temple Court,-some ten miles off, -come down to stop there for the fishing. There it was t That was the secret of all! He had been there nigh on a fortnight-had come, mind* you, for two or three days' fishing; but the sport was so good he really must stay a bit longer. Quite natural-and, you may say. quite proper I I'm thinking there was better sport going on in the parlor than ever he found in the river. Her head was nigh turned with it all, and I really believe she thought she was going to be Mistress of Temple Court before long-though how a young girl that had come down from London, and seen a bit of life, should be so short-seeing, is more than I can fancy. She took the notion into her head-that was certain-and every soul in the place could see what she was at, except the poor blind creature at the Forge; but even he had his eyes opened at last, for people now began to talk and whisper, and hope all was right up at the Joyful Heart. I heard that the minister had gone once to speak with her; but came out very red and angry. No doubt she had bidden him mind his own concerns, and not meddle with her. As to old Joe Fenton's looking after his niece, he might as well have been cut out of a block of wood 3 48 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. One, morning, just after breakfast, when he-Ding Dong Will -was sitting at the fire as usual, and not speaking a word, he turns round quite sharp upon me and says: "What is that young Jack doing all this time? What do you say?" "I'm sure I can't tell," I said, "unless it be fishing." "Fishing l" said he, stamping down the coals with his great shoe, "like enough I I've never heard much of the fish in these waters."4 "Still he does go out with a rod," I said; "there's nothing else here to amuse him, I suppose. But he goes on Monday." "Look me in the face,". says he, catching me by the wrist, "' you don't believe that he's come only for that?" " I can't tell," said I, "unless it is that he likes Mary Arthur's company. She's a nice girl I" "Ah I" said he, "I've been thinking so some time backthe false, hollow jade I This was at the bottom of all her tricks I But I tell you what," said he, snatching his hammer, "let him look out, and not come in my way-I give him warning - With this he got a bit of iron upon the anvil and beat away at it like a wild man. Then he flung it down into a corner, and, taking his hat, walked o.ut with. great strides. I ran after him and took him by the arm, for I was in a desperate fright lest he should do something wicked. But he put me back quietly. " See," said he, " I give you a caution, don't meddle with me. Mind -" I didn't try and stop him then, for he looked savage. But I followed a little behind. He made for the Joyful Heart; and, just as he came under the porch, with his head down, and never heeding where be was going to, he ran full up against somebody, who, without much more ado, gave him back his own, and flung him right against the wall. "Now then, young Hercules I" said a gay kind of voice-I knew it for Mr. Temple's,-" now then, look before you, will you! Keep the passage clear." I thought the other was going to run at him straight, but he stopped himself quickly. " Who are you speaking to in that way?" said he, with a low kind of growl. " Is it your horse, or your dog, or your groom? Which? Are those manners?" "Now, Bruin," says the young man, "no words. Let me pass, —I'm in a hurry." "Who was it taught you," says Ding Dong Will, with the same kind of growl, and not moving an inch,-" who taught youi to call folk Bruins and Herculeses —eh? I declare," says he, coloring up quite red, and trembling all over, "I ve a mind to give you a lesson myself-,I will, by-." WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 49 I think he was going to sp:ing at him this time, but I heard steps on the sanded floor, and there was Mary Arthur standing before us. A fine creature she looked, too. She was in a tearing rage-and her eyes had more of the devilish look in them than I had ever seen before. "For shame," she said, to Will, "for shame I What do you come here for, with your low brawling ways. Who asks you to come? Who. wants you 1? Take him away —homeanywhere out of this 1" It was a piteous sight to lodk at poor Ding Dong Will, star. ing stupidly at her, and breathing hard, as if there was a weight on his chest. "Mr. Temple," says she, turning to him quite changed, and with a gentle smile on her face, "can you forgive me for all this? That such a thing should have happened to you in our house I But it shall never occur again! Never-never I" I could see he took her very easy, for he was looking out at something, and she had to say it twice over before he heard her. " Sweet Mary," said he, "don't give yourself a moment's uneasiness about me. Let things go as they like, so that you don't put yourself out." Here he gave a kind of yawn, and went over to the window. She looked after him, biting her lip hard. " Why don't you take him away, as I told you?" she says at last. " What does he want here?" I pitied him so much, to see him standing there so beaten down, that I could not help putting in my word. "' Well, I must say, Miss Mary, poor Ding Dong Will didn't deserve this,-from you, of all people." " Hallo I" says Mr. Temple, coming back; "is this famous Ding Dong Will from over the way?" "No other, sir," says I. "Here, Ding Dong Will," says he, putting out his hand, " we musn't fall out. If I had known it was you, you should have had the passage all to yourself. You're a fine fellow, Will, and I've often admired the way you swung the great hammer." She was biting her lips still harder than before, but said nothing. "Stop," said he, "I have a great idea. So this is Ding Dong Will I Whisper a minute, Mary." He did whisper something to her, and you never saw what a change it made in her. She turned all scarlet, and gave him such a wicked devilish look. " Tis is some joke," said she, at last. "Not a bit of it," says he, laughing; " not a bit of it. Ah I You see I know what goes on in the village!" 50 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. "I couldn't believe that you mean such a t. aing I" savs she, getting white again. "Stuff!" said he, very impatiently.' I tell you, I am in earnest. Listen, Ding Dong Will. I must be off to London to-morrow,-the ladies there are dying to see me, so go I must. Now, I know there has been something on between you two,don't tell me, I know all about it, So now, friend Ding Dong, show yourself a man of spirit, and settle it sharp. And I promise you, I'll come down myself to give the bride away, and start you both comfortably." It was well for him he was looking the other way, and didn't see the infernal look she gave him out of those eyes of hers. I think if there had been a knife convenient, she would have plunged it into him at that minute. But she covered it all with a kind of forced laugh, and said she wasn't quite ready to be disposed of so quickly, and then made some excuse to run up stairs. Mr. Temple then yawned again, and went over to the window, and wondered would it be a fine night, as he had to dine out. Neither of us spoke to him, for he was an unfeeling fellow with all his generous offers. So we left him there, and I brought back Ding Dong Will to the Forge again. About four o'clock that same day (it was almost dark at that hour,) when I was coming home from buying something in the village, I thought I saw him crossing over to the Joyful Heart; and as I passed the porch, I swear I saw the two of them (Mary Arthur and he) talking in the passage-there was no mistake about it-and she talking very eagerly. Presently, she drew him into the parlor, and shut the door. What could bring him there now, after the morning's business? Well, I thought, he is a poor-spirited creature, after all-a true spaniel I He didn't' come in, I suppose for an hour after that, and then in a wild sort of humor, as if he had been drinking. But what do you think of his denying that he had been near the Joyful Heart at all, or that he had seen her? Denied it fiat I And then, when I pressed him on it, and asked if I wasn't to trust my own eyes, he began to show his teeth, and get savage. I was only a youngster then, and so had to put up with his humors; but I determined to leave him on the first convenient excuse. Dear! how that man was changed in a short time I On this night he took a fancy that we should go to bed early. He was tired, he said, and wanted rest after the day's trouble, and his heart was heavy. So I gave in to him at once, and we were soon snug in our little cots on each side of the hearth: we used to sleep of nights in a queer kind of place just off the forge, all vaulted over, with arches crossing one another and meeting, in a kind of carved bunch in the middle. This might have been the clergymen's pantry, or wine vaults, may be, in the old times. Whatever use they had for it, it was a WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 51 very snug place. I recollect there were all sorts of queer faces with horns and hoods, all carved out in the bunch; and I often lay awake at nights looking at them, and studying them, and thinking why they were grinning and winking at me in that way. I remember one creature that always aimed straight at you with his tail pointed, holding it like a gun. It might have been about nine o'clock, or perhaps half-past eight, when we turned in. I know I heard the old church clock chiming pleasantly as we lay down. After watching the fire flashing up and down, and taking a look at the funny faces inthe bunch overhead, I soon went sound asleep. I woke again, before the fire was out, and looking toward Will's cot, saw that it was empty. A vague feeling of uneasiness mingled with my surprise at that discovery, and made me jump out of bed in a moment. I reflected for a little-felt more uneasy than everhuddled on my clothes in a great hurry-and, without giving myself a moment's time for any second thoughts, went out to see what had become of Ding Dong Will. He was not in the neighborhood of the Forge, so I followed a steep footpath in the wood behind which led straight to the water's edge. I walked on a little, observing that'the moon was out and the stars shining, and the sky of a fine frosty blue, until J came to an old tree that I knew well. I had hardly cast a first careless look at it, before I started back all in a fright, for I saw at my feet, stretched out among the leaves, a figure with a fisherman's hat beside it. I knew it to be young Mr. Temple, lying there quite dead, with his face all over blood. I thought I should have sunk down upon the earth with grief and horror, and ran further along the little pathway as fast as I could to a place where the trees opened a little, full in the moonlight. There, I saw Ding Dong Will standing quite still and motionless, with his hammer on his shoulder, and his face covered up in his hand. He stayed a long time that way, without ever stirring, and then began to come up, very slowly, weeping, his eyes upon the ground. I felt as if I were fixed.to that one spot, and waited till he met me full face to face. What a guilty start he gave — I thought he would have dropped. " O, Will, Will,! what have you been doing? Some terrible thing I" "I-I —I, nothing " he said, staggering about, and hiding his face. "What have you done with him-Mr. Temple?" I said, still holding him. He was trembling all over like a palsied man, and fell back against a tree with a deep groan. I saw howit was then-it was as good as written in his face. So I left him there-against the tree-and all the rest of that horrible night I wandered up and down along the roads and lanes: 52 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. any thing sooner than be under the same roof with him. At l1t morning came; and, as soon as the sun rose I stole back, and, looking through the window, found that he was gone. I never like to think of that night, though it is so far back. By noon next day the whole town was in a fever: people talking and whispering at corners. He had been missed but they were on his track, for it was well known that he was away among the hills hiding. They dragged the river all day; and, on that night, the body of young Mr. Temple was found; his head beaten in with a hammer. What end Will Whichelo came to, it would not be hard to guess. But Mary Arthur-she who drove him on to it, as everybody knew-she was let away, and went up to London, where she lived to do mischief enough. The old Forge was shut up, and fell into greater ruin. For many a long day no one ventured near that part of the river walk after dark. It was the fifth evening toward twilight, when poor Dick began to sing-in my boat, the surf-boat. At first nobody took any notice of him, and indeed he seemed to be singing more to himself than to any one else. I had never heard the tune before, neither have I heard it since, but it was beautiful. I don't know how it might sound now, but then, in the twilight, darkness coming down on us fast, and, for aught we knew, death in the darkness, its simple words were full of meaning. The song was of a mother and child talking together of Heaven. I saw more than one gaunt face lifted up, and there was a great sob when it was done, as if everybody had held their breath to listen. Says Dick then, "That was my cousin Amy's song, Mr. Steadiman. " "Thbn it will be a favorite of yours, Dick;" I replied, hazarding a guess at the state of the case. "'Yes. I don't know why I sing it. Perhaps she put it in my mind. Do you believe in those things, Mr. Steadiman?" "In what things, Dick?" I wanted to draw him on to talk of himself, as he had no other story to tell. "She's dead, Captain; and it seemed a little while since as if I heard her voice, far away, as it might be in England, singing it again; and when she stopped, I took it up. It must be fancy, you know, it could not really be." Before long the night fell, and when we could not see each other's faces-except by the faint starlight-it seemed as if poor Dick's heart opened, and as if he must tell us who and what he was. Perhaps I ought to say how poor Dick came to be with us at all. About a week before we sailed, there came to Captain Ravender one morning at his inn, a man whom he had known intimately; when they two were young fellows. Said he, " Captain, there's my nephew-poor Dick Tarrant-I want to ship WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 53 him off to Australia, to California, or anywhere out of the way. He does nothing but get into mischief here, and bring disgrace on the family. Where are you bound for, next voyage?" Captain Ravender replied, California. " California is a long way off," said Captain Ravender's friend, "it will do as. well as any place; he can dig for gold. The fact is, Dick has run through one fortune, and now a maiden aunt, who considers the credit of the family, offers him three hundred pounds to leave England. He consents to go, and the best plan will be to put him under your charge, pay his passage and outfit, and leave the rest of the money in your hands to be given over to him when he lands at the diggings.",,Captain Ravender agreed to the proposal, and poor Dick, who had been left standing outside the door, was called in and introduced. I came in just at that point, and saw him. He was the wreck of what had been a fine-looking young man, ten years ago, dragged down now by reckless dissipation to reckless poverty. His clothing was very shabby, his countenance wild and haggard, his shock of brown hair, rusty with neglect, -not a promising subject to look at. His uncle told him the arrangements he had made with Captain Ravender, in which he apparently acquiesced without much caring,-" North or south, east or west," said he, " it was all the same to him. If he had gone out to India, when he had chance a dozen years before, he should have been a man or a mouse then." That was the only remark he offered. And the thing was settled. But when the time came to sail, poor Dick was not forthcoming. We sent up to his uncle's house to know what was to be done, and, by-and-by, down he came with his nephew, who had almost given us the slip. Until we got into blue water Dick was prisoner rather than passenger. He did not take to his banishment kindly, or see, as his relatives did, that there was a chance before hirh of redeeming a wasted life and repairing a ruined constitution. He was a very good-humored, easytempered fellow, and a great favorite aboard; and, till the time of the wreck, cheerful, except in the evening, when he got to leaning over the ship's side, and singing all kinds of senti. mental love-songs. I had told the men to keep an eye on him, and they did. I was afraid he might, in one of his black moods, try to make away with himself. He was the younger of two brothers, sons of a yeoman or gentleman-farmer in Cheshire; both whose parents died when they Were quite little things, leaving them, however, for their station, amply provided for. There was two hundred pounds a year for their bringing-up, till they were eighteen, when the sum was to be doubled, and at one-and-twenty they were to get five thousand pounds a piece to start them in the world. Old' Miss Julia Tarrant took Tom, the elder, and my friend took 54 WFRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. poor Dick. Dick was a wild lad, idle at his book, hankering after play, but as kind-hearted and handsome a fellew as you could wish to see. Dick was generally better liked than Tom, who was steady as old Time. Both brothers were sent to the grammar-school of the town, near which they lived, and one of Dick's discursive anecdotes related to. the secoid master there, whom he asserted he should have had pleasure in soundly thrashing at that moment, in part payment of the severe punishment he had formerly inflicted on his idle pupil. When Dick was sixteen that tide in his affairs came, which, had he followed it out to India, would probably have led on to fortune. But Dick had an invincible tie to England. Precocious in every thing, he was deeply in love with his cousin Amy, who was three years older than himself, and very beautiful; and Amy was very fond'of him as of a younger brother. Said poor Dick, with a quiver in his voice, as he was telling his story, " She was the only creature in the whole world that ever really cared whether I lived or died. I worshiped the very ground she walked on! Tom was a clever, shrewd fellow. —made for getting on in the world, and never minding anybody but himself. Uncle Tarrant was as hard and rigid as a machine, and his wife was worse-there was nobody nice but Amy; she was an angel! When I got into scrapes, and spent more money than I ought, she set me right with my uncle, and later-when it was too late for any good, and the rest of them treated me like a dog —she never gave me either a cold look or a hard word. Bless her!" For the sake of being near his cousin, Dick professed a wish to be a farmer like his cousin and father, which was quite agreeable to the family; and for three years more he stayed in his Uncle Tarrant's house, very much beloved by all-though in his bitterness he said not-for his gayety and lightheart were like a charm about him. If there was a fault, he had friends too many, for most of them were of a kind not likely to profit a young man. Coming home one evening, about twilight, from a hunt which he had attended, the poor lad unexpectedly met the crisis of his fate. He told us this with an exactness of detail that made the scene he described like a bit of Dutch painting. I wish I could repeat it to you in. his own words, but that is impossible; still I will be as exact as possible. In Mr. Tarrant's house there was a little parlor especially appropriated to Amy's use. It had a low window with a cushioned seat, from which one long step took you into the garden. In this parlor Amy had her piano, her book-case, her work-basket, her mother's picture on the wall, and several of poor Dick's sketches neatly framed. Dick liked this room better thaw any other in the house. When the difference be WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 55 twixt Amy's age and his seemed greater than it did now, it was here he used to come to be helped with his lessons; and later, when his red-hot youth was secretly wreathing all manner of tender fancies about her, that he used to sit at her feet reading to her out of some poetry-book, or singing while she worked, or, perhaps, sang too. These pleasant early intimacies had never been discontinued, for, while Dick's heart was wasting its first passion on his cousin, she was all the while thinking of somebody else. He was a boy to her in point of age still, and this particular day ended his blissful delusions. Having put his pony in the stable, he made his way at once to Amy's parlor, opening the door softly, for he liked to surprise her. Neither she nor the person with her heard him enter; they were too much occupied with themselves and each other to hear any thing. Amy was standing in the window, and beside her, with his arm round her waist, was the straighthaired, pale-featured curate of the parish. It was a clear yellow twilight, and all about Amy's head the lustre shone like a glory; her hands were down-dropt, and the busy fingers were plucking a rose to pieces, petal by petal, and scattering them on the carpet at her feet. She was as blushing herself as the poor rose, and seemed to listen willingly to the pleadings of her lover. Dick noticed the slight quivering of her lips qAd the humid glitter of her eyes when the low-spoken, tremulous words, meant only for one ear, met his, and he said he felt as if all the blood in his body were driven violently up to his brain by their sound. The bird in its cage began trilling a loud song as it pecked at a spray of green which the evening wind blew against the wires through the open window, and under cover of its noise poor Dick stole out, leaving the young lovers alone in the blush of their acknowledged love. He went back to the stable, got his pony out, mounted it, and galloped away like mad to rejoin the companions he had left an hour before for Amy's sake. It was not till after midnight that he came home, and then he was reeling drunk. His uncle Tarrant and Amy had sat up for him, and, being quarrelsome in his cups, he insulted the first, and would not speak to his cousin. Poor Dick thought to drown his sorrow, and this was the beginning of his downward course. The individual whom Amy had chosen to endow with her love had nothing about him particular to approve except his profession. All his attributes, moral, mental, and personal, were negative rather than positive. Poor Dick described him only as straight-haired, as if that epithet embodied all his qualities. He thought that Amy did not really love him, but was attracted by some imaginary sanctity and perfection with which her imagination invested him. It was very likely: from 66 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. what we see every day we may be sure that Miany women have loved, not the man himself they have married, but an ideal which he personates very indifferently indeed to all eyes but theirs. Dick could not, for many days, restrain the expression of his feelings. Coming one day suddenly on Amy in the garden where she was walking in maiden meditation, he stopped her and made her listen to his story, which he poured out with much exaggeration of epithet and manner. Amy was startled and distressed: she endeavored in vain to stop his confession by appealing to his common sense of what was right. " Dick, you know I am engaged to Henry Lister-you ought not to have spoken-let me go I" said she, for he had grasped her hands tightly in his. "I ought not to have spoken, and I love you I 0! cousin, you don't know what love is if you say so. Amy, it will out! Amy, if I had come before the straight-haired parson, would you have listened to me then?" A vivid blush flew into the girl's face, but she would not say a word of encouragement; on that blush, however, poor Dick, whether rightly or wrongly, contrived to found a renewed hope. Amy kept his avowal to herself, knowing well that its discovery would entail a total separation from her cousin; and she had become so accustomed to his usefulness and gayety in a house where everybody else was chilly and methodical, that she could not readily part with him. I inclined to think myself that she did like Dick better than the straight-haired curate for many reasons, and Dick himself was persuaded of it. Her indecision had, as may be supposed, a very pernicious effect on his mind and conduct. One day he was in the seventh heaven of hope and contentment, and the next he was the most miserable dog alive: then he would go and forget his griefs in a convivial bout with his comrades, till at length his Uncle Tarrant turned him out of doors. Amy had tried her influence with him in vain. "You are the cause of it, Amy, and nobody but you," said Dick, passionately; "if you would give that straight-haired fellow warning, you should never have to complain of me again. " But Amy, though she fretted a great deal, held to her engagement, and Dick went on from bad to worse. It must have been very deplorable to behold the reckless way in which he dissipated his money as soon as he got it into his hands, ruinihg at once his prospects, his character, and his health. With a temperament that naturally inclined him to self-indulgence, the road to ruin was equally rapid and pleasant. When Amy married Henry Lester-which she did after an engagement of six months-Dick kept no bounds, and WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 57 he irretrievably offended his family by intruding himself, uninvited, amongst the guests at the wedding. There was a painful scene in Amy's parlor, where he went secretly, as he'himself acknowledged, in the wild hope of inducing her to break off the engagement at the eleventh hour. She was dressed ready for church, and her mother was with her. That made no difference. Poor Dick went down on his knees, and cried, and kissed his cousin's hands, and besought her to listen to him. And Amy fainted. She fainted a second time at the altar when Dick forced himself into her presence and forbade the marriage. He was so frantic, so out of himself, that he had to be removed by compulsory measures before the service could go on. Of course, after a scene like this, his uncle's family kept no terms with him; he was forbidden ever to suffer his shadow to darken their door again-and so the poor, wild, crazed fellow went headlong to destruction. I doubt very much myself whether Amy was worth such a sacrifice; but he thought so. Life, he said, was unendurable without her, and he did not care how soon he ended it. But this was not all. Amy died of consumption within a year of her marriage, and Dick asserted that she had been killed by bad usage. He went down to his uncle's house where she lay, and asked to see her. The request was refused, and he forced his way by the window into the room at night, as was afterward discovered by the disarrangement of the furniture, and stayed there crying over his dead love until dawn. At her funeral he joined the mourners, and showed more grief than any of them; but.as the husband was turning away, he walked up to him and shook his clenched fist in his face, crying: "You killed her, you straight-haired dog I" It was supposed that if he had not been restrained by the bystanders, he might have done him a mischief. His family gave it out that he was mad. Perhaps he was. Dice, drinking, and horse-racing now soon made an end of poor Dick's five thousand pounds. He lost every shred of self-respect, and herded with the lowest of the low. There is nc telling how a man's troubles may turn him-love-disappoin:tments especially; poor Dick's turned him into a thorough scamnp. He was a disgrace to the family, and a misery to himself, but there was this good left in him amidst his degrading excessesthe capability of regretting. He never enjoyed his vices or ceased to feel the horrible debasement of them. He was seen at races, prize fights, and fairs, in rags and tatters; he was known to have wanted bread, he was suspected of theft and poaching, and his brother Tom rescued him once out of the streets, where he was singing songs disguised as a lame soldier. Tom allowed him a guinea a week, but before he had been in receipt of it a month he made the annuity over to an acquaintance 58 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. for ten pounds, to take him to Doncaster, and this friend always went with him to receive the money, lest he should lose it, so that Dick suffered extremities while he was supposed to be at least fed and clothed by his family. Ten years of reckless debauchery and poignant misery reduced him to the state in which his uncle Tarrant brought him to me; his aunt Julia who had brought Tom up offered to give him money if he would go out of the country and never come back again. How he went out of it, I have told already. When he ceased speaking, I said to encourage him: "You'll do well yet, Dick, if you keep steady, and we make land or are picked up." " What can it be," said Dick, without particularly answering, " that brings all these old things over my mind? There's a child's hymn I and Tom used to say at my mother's knee when we were little ones keeps running through my thoughts.. It's the stars, maybe; there was a little window by my bed that I used to watch them at-a window in my room at home in Cheshire-and if I was ever afraid, as boys will be after reading a good ghost story, I would keep on saying it till I fell asleep." "That was a good mother of yours, Dick; could you say that hymn now, do you think? Some of us might like to hear it." It's as clear in my mind at this minute as if my mother was here listening to me," said Dick, and he repeated: Hear my prayer, 0! Heavenly Father, Ere I lay me down to sleep; Bid thy Angels, pure and holy, Round my bed their vigil keep. My sins are heavy, but Thy mercy'Far outweighs them every one; Down before Thy Cross I cast them, Trusting in Thy help alone Keep me through this night of.peril Underneath its boundless shade; Take me to Thy rest, I pray Thee, When my pilgrimage is made. None shall'measure out Thy patience By the span of human thought; None shall bound the tender mercies Which Thy Holy Son has bought. Pardon all my past transgressions, Give me strength for days to come; Guide and guard me with Thy blessing Till Thy Angels bid me home." After a while Dick threw his coat up over his head and lay down to sleep. WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 59 "Well, poor Dick I" thought I, " it is surely a blessed thing for you that — "None shall measure out God's patience, By the span of human thought; None shall bound the tender mercies Which his Holy Son has bought." A quiet middle-aged gentleman passenger, who was going to establish a store out there, and had been a kind of supercargo aboard of us besides, told what follows. She lay off Naarden-the good ship Brocken Spectre, I mean-far out in the roads; and I often thought, as I looked at her through the haze, what an ancient, ill-favored hulk it was. I suppose I came down some three or four times that day, being in a lounging unsatisfied state of mind; and took delight in watching the high, old-fashioned poop, as it rocked all day long in that one spot. I likened it to a French roof of the olden time, it was garnished with so many little windows: and over all was the great lantern, which might have served conveniently for the vane or cupalo seen upon such structures. For all that, it was not unpicturesque, and would have filled a corner in a Vandervelde picture harmoniously enough. She was to sail at three o'clock next morning, and I was to be the solitary cabin passenger. As evening came on, it grew prematurely dark and cloudy; while the waves acquired that dull indigo tint so significant of ugly weather. Raw gusts came sweeping in toward the shore, searching me through and through. I must own to a sinking of the heart as I took note of these symptoms, for a leaning toward ocean in any of its moods had never been one of my failings; and it augured but poorly for the state of the elements next morning. "It will have spent itself during the night," I muttered, doubtfully; and turned back to the inn to eat dinner with what comfort I might. That place of entertainment stood by itself upon a bleak sandy hill. From its window I could see, afar off, three lights rising and falling together, just where the high poop and lantern had been performing the same ocean-dance in the daytime. I was sitting by the fire, listening ruefully to the wind, when news was brought to me that the Captain, Van Steen, had come ashore, and was waiting below to see me. I found him walking up and down outside-a short, thick-set man-as it were, built upon the lines of his own vessel. "Well, captain, you wished to see me," I said. "Look to this, my master," he said, bluntly. "There's a gale brewing yonder, and wild weather coming. So just see to this. If we're not round the Helder Head by to-morrow night, 60 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. we may nave to beat round the Bay for days and days.'So look to it, master, and come aboard while there is time." "I'm ready at any moment," I said; "but how, do you expect to get round now? The sea is high enough as it is." "No matter; the wind may be with us in the morning. We must clear the Head before to-morrow night. Why look you," be added, sinking his voice, mysteriously, "I wouldn't be off fHelder to-morrow night-no, not for a sack of guilders 1" "What do you mean?" "Why, don't you know? It's Christmas night-Jan Fagel's night —Captain Jan's I" " Well?" "He comes to Helder to-morrow night; he is seen in the Bay. But we are losing time, master," said he, seizing my arm; "get your things ready-these lads will carry them to the boat." Three figures here advanced out of the shadow, and entered with me. I hastily paid the bill, and set forward with the captain for the shore, where the boat was waiting. My mails were got on board with all expedition, and we were soon far out upon the waters, making steadily for the three lights. It was not blowing very hard as yet; neither had the waves assumed the shape of what are known as white horses; but there was a heavy underground swell, and a peculiar swooping motion quite as disagreeable. Suddenly, I made out the great lantern just over head, shining dimly, as it were through a fog. We had glided under the shadow of a dark mass, wherein there were many more dim lights at long intervals-and all together seemed performing a wild dance to the music of dismal creaking of timbers, and rattling of chains. As we came under, a voice hailed us out of the darkness-as it seemed from the region of the lantern; and presently invisible hands cast us ropes, whereby, with infinite pains and labor, I was got on: deck. I was then guided down steep ways into the cabin, the best place for me under the circumstances. As soon as The wind changed, the captain said, we would put out to sea. By the light of a dull oil-lamp overhead, that never for a moment ceased swinging, I tried to make out what my new abode was like. It was of an ancient massive fashion, with a dark oak paneling all round, rubbed smooth in many places by wear of time and friction. All round were queer little nobs and projections, mounted in brass and silver, just like the buttends of pistols; while here and there were snug recesses that reminded me of canons' stalls in a cathedral. The swinging lamp gave but a faint yellow light, that scarcely reached beyond the centre of the room; so that the oak-work all round cast little grotesque shadows, which had a very gloomy and depressing effect. There was a sort of oaken shelf at one end-handsomely WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 61 wrought, no doubt, but a failure as to sleeping capabilities. Into this I introduced myself without delay, and soon fell off into a profound slumber, for I was weary enough. When I awoke again, I found there was a figure standing over me, w-ho said he was Mr. Bode the mate, who wished to know, could he serve me in any way? Had we started yet? I asked. Yes, we had started-above an hour now-but she was not making much way. Would I get up-this was Christmas day. So it was; I had forgotten that. What a place to hold that inspiring festival in I Mr. Bode, who was inclined to be communicative, then added that it was blowing great guns: whereof I had abundant confirmation from my own physical sufferings, then just commencing. No, I would not-could not get up; and so, for the rest of that day, dragged on a miserable existence, many times wishing that the waters would rise and cover me. Late in the evening I fell into a kind of uneasy doze, which was balm of Gilead to the tempest-tost landsman. When I awoke again, it was night once more; at least, there was the dull oil-lamp, swinging lazily as before. There was the same painful music-the same eternal creaking and straining, as of ship's timbers in agony. What o'clock was it? Where were we now? Better make an effort, and go up, and see how we were getting on-it was so lonely down here. Come in I Here the door was opened, and Mr. Bode the mate presented himself. It was a bad night, Mr. Bode said-a very bad night. -He had come to tell me we were off the Head at last. He thought I might care to know. " I am glad to hear it," I said faintly; "it will be something smoother in the open sea." He shook his head. "No open sea for us to-night; no, nor to-morrow night most likely." "What is all this mystery?" said I, now recollecting the captain's strange allusions at the inn door. "What do you mean?" "It is Jan Fagel's night," said he solemnly. "He comes into the bay to-night. An hour more of the wind, and we should have been clear. But we did what we could-a man can do no more than his best." "But who is Jan Fagel?" "You never heard?" "Never. Tell me about him." "Well," said he, "I shan't be wanted on deck for some time yet, so I may as well be here. And Mr. Bode settled himself into one of the canons' stalls, thus retiring into the shadow, and began the history of Jan Fagel and his vessel. "You have never heard of the famous brig Maelstrom, once on a time well known in these roads? No,-for vou have not 62 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. been muchn aoout here, I dare say; and it is only old sea-folk like myself that would care to talk to you of such things. But I can tell you this-there's not a sailor along the coast that hasn't the story, though it's now-let me see-a good hundred years since she made her last cruise. Why, I recollect when I was a boy, the old hull lying on the sands, and breaking up with every tide-for she came to that end after all-the famous Maelstrom, Captain Jan Fagel, commander. I have been told there never was such a boat for foul weather, but that was when he was on board of her. He was a terrible man, was Captain Fagel, and would turn wild when a gale got up; and as the wind blew harder, so he grew wilder, until at last it seemed as if he had gone mad altogether. Why, there was one night my father used to tell of, when there was a great thunderstorm, and the sea was washing over the lighthousesthe most awful night he ever was out in-it'was said that when the flashes came, Captain Jan had been seen dancing and skipping upon his deck. Many of his sailors told afterward how they heard his mad shrieks above the roaring of the wind! Some said he had sold himself to the Evil One, which I think myself more than likely, for he cared neither for God nor man. "Well sir, Captain Fagel took first to the smuggling trade; and s6on he and his famous brig became known all along the coast, from Hoek up to Helder —ay, and beyond that. But he was seen oftenest at the Head —as if he had a sort of liking for the place-and always came and went in a storm. So, that when the Zuyder was like a boiling cauldron, and the water running over the lighthouse galleries, old sailors would look up in the wind's eye, and say' Captain Fagel's running a cargo tonight.' At last it came to this, that whenever he was seen off Helder, he was thought to bring a storm with him. And then they would shake their heads, and say Captain Fagel was abroad that night. Soon he grew tired of this work-it was too quiet for him-so he turned Rover, and ran up the black flag. He still kept up his old fashion of bearing down in a gale; and many a poor disabled craft that was struggling hard to keep herself afloat, would see the black hull of the Maelstrom coming down upon her in the storm, and so would perish miserably upon the rocks. He was no true sailor, sir, but a low pirate; and he came to a pirate's end. And this was the way he fell upon his last cruise, just off Helder Head yonder. " There was a certain councilor of the town who had many times crossed him in his schemes, and had once been near taking him. Fagel hated him like poison, and swore he would have his revenge of him, one day. But the councilor did not fear him -not a bit of him, but even offered a reward to whoever would take or destroy Captain Fagel and his vessel. When the captain came to hear of this he fell to raving and foaming at WEECK OF THE GOLDEN MIARY. 63 the mouth, and: theni swore a great oath upon his own, soul that he would be revenged of the councilor. And this was the way he:went about it: " T-he councilor had a fair, young wife, Madame: Elde, whom he had brought out of France some years before, and whom he loved exceedingly —foolishly, some. said, for a man of his years. They and their little girl- lived together at a place called; Loo, and no family could be happier. Jan Fagel: knew the place well, and laid his devilish plans accordingly. So, as usual, on one of his wild, stormy nights, the brig was seen standing in to shore, for no good purpose, as everybody guessed. How he and his mad crew got to land was never accounted for-but this is certain-they broke into the house at Loo, and dragged Madame Elde and her child from their beds, and forced' them down to: their boats. The councilor was away in the city-; but Captain Jan knew well enough how he loved his wife, and chose this way of torturing him. An old fisherman, who lived hard by the shore, said, that he woke up s~ddenly in the night, and heard their screams; but they were toomany for him, or he would have gone out. He was an old man, and it was only natural. They then pulled away: for the ship, he standing up, and screaming at the waves like a fiendd incarnate, as- he-was. How the poor passengers ever got alive on: board was a miracle: ~ —for the waves came dashing over the bows of the boat, where they were lying, at every stroke. "Now it fell out, that this time, there was a British frigate cruising about these parts-for Captain Fagel had a short time' before this, fired into an English vessel. The frigate was,therefore, keeping a sharp lookout for the; brig, and had been looking into all the creeks and harbors along the coasts, whenshe was caught in this very storm-of Captain Fagel's raising. Just as she was struggling round: the: Head, she came upon thea Maelstrom, taking onboard the boat's crew. "'Let go, all clearl' they heard him: cry, even above the storm —and they saw the: dark hull swing round, and set off along shore, where it:was hard. for the frigate to follow. As for Jan Fagel, if ever Satan entered into a man in this life, he: must have possessed him. that night I They could hear him fromr the other vessel, as he shrieked with delight, and swore, and bounded along his deck, when other men could scarcely keep their feet. Why, sir, one time, he was seen on the edge of the taffrail-his eyes looking in the dark like two burning coalsl I No doubt he would have got away from them, after all -for there was no better mariner in those seas-whetn just as he was coming round a point, they heard a crash, and' down came his topmast upon his deck. The sailors rushed to clear" away the wreck. "'Bring up the woman,' he roared through his trumpet. 4 64 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY.'Bring up the woman and child, you sea imps I' Though his ship was in danger, he thought of the councilor. Some of them rushed down into the hold, and came up in a moment wtth Madame Elde and the little girl. She was quite scared and sank down upon the deck, as if she were insensible. "'A handsome creature, sir,' they said, even some of those savages felt for her. They heard her saying over and over again to herself: "'0, such a Christmas night! Such a Christmas night I' "He overheard her. "'Ah, ah I witch I you shall have a merry Christmas. Never fear. So should your husband-curse him-if we had him here.' " She started up with a scream when she heard him speaking. And then they saw her standing, with her long black hair blown' back by the wind, and her arms out, as if she were praying.'Where shall Thy judgments find this man?' "' Here, witch I Look for me here on a stormy night-any night; next Christmas, if you like. Hi, lads I get a sail here, and send them over the side.' "Even those ruffians hung back, for it was too awful a night for them to add murder to their other sins. So, with many oaths, Captain Fagel went forward himself to seize the lady. "'He shall meet me before the Judgment seat,' said she, still praying. "'Cant away, sorceress! come back here of a stormy night, and I'll meet you: I'm not afraid;' and he laughed long and loud. "Then he flung the wet sail round them, and with his own hands cast them into the sea. The storm came on fiercer than ever, and they thought that the ship's timbers were going to part. But Jan Fagel strode about his deck, and gave his orders, and,he bore up well before the wind. It seemed that no harm could come to that ship when he was on board of her. As for the frigate, she had long since got away into the open sea. But the lady's words were not to be in vain, for just as he was going one of his mad bounds along the poop, his foot caught in a coil of rope, and he went over with an unearthly scream into.the black, swollen sea. All the crew ran to look out after him, but strange to tell, without so much as thinking of casting him a rope. It seemed as if they had lost their sense for a time, and could only stand there looking into the waves that had swept him off. Just then, the wind went down a little, and they heard a voice high in the mainmast-top, as if some one were calling; and these words came to them very clear and distinct:'Yo, yo! Jan Fagel, yo!' Then all the crew at the vessel's side, as if they had caught some of his own devilish spirit, could not keep themselves from giving out, in a great WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 65 wild chorus,'Yo, yo I Jan Fagel, yo 1' Once more the voice came from the mainmast-top, calling,'Yo, yo! Jan Fagel, yo I' and again the crew answered louder than before, as if they were possessed. He was seen no more after that. "The memory of that night never left that wicked crew; and many of them, when dying quietly in their beds long after, started up with that cry, as though they were answering a call, and so passed away to their last account. "Every year, as sure as Christmas night comes round, Jan Fagel comes into the bay to keep his word with Madame Elde. And, any ship that is off the Head then, must wait and beat about until midnight; when he goes away. "But they are wanting me on deck," said Mr. Bode, looking at his watch. "I have stayed too long as it is." Mr. Bode Irastily departed, leaving me to ponder over his wild legend. Ruminating upon it, and listening to the rushing of the water, close to my ear, I fell off again in a sleep, and began to dream; and, of course, dreamed of Captain Jan Fagel. It was a wild and troubled sleep, that I had; and I am sure, if any one had been standing near, they would have seen me starting and turning uneasily, as if in grievous trouble. First, I thought I was ashore again, in a sheltered haven, safely delivered from all this wretched tossing. And I recollect how inexpressibly delightful the feeling of repose was, after all these weary labors. By-and-by, I remarked low-roofed oldfashioned houses all about, seemingly of wood, with little galleries running round the windows. And I saw stately burghers walking, in dresses centuries old, and ladies with great round frills about their necks, and looking very stiff and majestic, sat and talked to the burghers. They were coming in and out of the queer houses, and some passed quite close to me, saluting me, as they did so, very graciously. One thing seemed very strange to me. They had all a curious dried look about their faces, and a sort of stony cast in their eyes, which I could not make out. Still they came and went, and I looked on and wondered. Suddenly I saw the little Dutch houses and the figures all quivering and getting indistinct, and gradually the picture faded away until it grew- slowly into the shape of the 3abin where I was now lying. There it was, all before me, with the canon's stalls and the dull swinging lamp, and I myself leaning on one hand in the carved crib, and thinking what a weary voyage this was How monotonous the rushing sound of the water! Then my dream went on, and it seemed to me that I took note of a canon's stall in the centre, something larger and better-fashioned than the others-the dean's, most likely, I concluded wisely, when he comes to service. And then on that hint, as it were, I seemed to travel away over 6:6 )VWRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. the waters to ancient aisles, and tracery and soft ravishing music, and snowy figures seen afar off duskily amid clouds of incense. In time, too, all that faded away, and I was back again in the oak cabin, with the sickly yellow light suffusing every thing, and a dark misty figure sitting right opposite. He caused me, no surprise or astonishment, and I received him there as a matter of course, as peol)le do in dreams. I had seen figures like him somewhere. In Rembrandt's pictures, was it? Most likelye7 for there was the large broad hat, and the stiff white collar and tassels, and the dark jerkin; only there was a rusty, mouldering look about his garments that seemed very strange to me. He had an ancient sword, too, on which he leaned his arm; and so sat there motionless, looking on the ground. He. sat that way I don't know how long: I, as it seemed to me, studying him intently: when suddenly the rushing sound ceased, and there came a faint cry across the waters, as from afar off. It was the old cry: "Yo, yo I Jan Fagel, yo I" Then I saw the figure raise its head suddenly, and the yellow light fell upon his face —such a mournful, despairing face! —with the same stony gaze I had seen in the others. Again the fearful cry came-nearer, as it, seemed; and I saw the figure rise up slowly and walk across the cabin to the door. As he passed me he turned his dead lack-lustre eyes full upgn me, and looked at me for an instant. Never shall I forget that moment. It was as if a horrid weight was pressing on me. I felt such agony that I awoke with a start, and found myself sitting up and trembling all over. But at that instant; whether the dreamy influence had not wholly passed away, or whatever was the reason I don't know; I can swear that, above the rushing sound of the waves and the whistling of the wind, I heard that ghostly chorus," Yo, yo I Jan Fagel, yo I" quite clear and distinct. An old seaman in the long-boat sang this ballad, as his story, to a curious sort of tuneful no-tune, which none of the rest could remember afterward. I have seen a fiercer tempest, Known a wilder whirlwind blow, I was wreck'd off red Algiers, Six-and-thirty years ago. Young I was-and yet old seamen Were not strong or calm as I; While life held such treasures for me, I felt sure I could not die. Life I struggled for-and saved it; Life alone-and nothing more; Bruised, half dead, alone and helpless,. I was cast upon the shore. WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. I fear'd the pitiless rocks of Ocean; So the great sea rose-and then' Cast me from her friendly bosom, On the pitiless hearts of men. Gaunt and dreary ran the mcuntains With black gorges up the land; Up to where the lonely desert Spreads her burning, dreary sand: In the gorges of the mountains, On the plain beside the sea, Dwelt my stern and cruel masters, The black Moors of Barbary. Ten long years I toil'd among the., Hopeless-as I used to say; Now I knew Hope burnt within me Fiercer, stronger, day by day; Those dim years of toil and sorrow Like one long, dark dream appear'; One long day of dreary waiting;Then each day was like a year. How I curst the land-my prison; How I curst the serpent sea, And the Demon, Fate, that showered All her'curses upon-me: I was mad, I think —God pardon Words so terrible and wildThe voyage would have been my last one, For I left a vife and child. Never did one tender vision Fade away before my sight, Never once through all my slavery, Burning day or dreary night; in my soul it lived and kept me, Now I feel from black despair, And my Meart was not quite broken, While they lived and blest me these. When at night my task was over, I would hasten to the shore; (All was strange and foreign inland, Nothing I had known before). Strange looked the bleak mountain passes, Strange the red glare and black shade, And the Oleanders, waving To the sound the fountains made. Then I gazed at the great Ocean, Till she grew a friend again; And because she knew old England, I forgave her all my pain; So the blue still sky above me, With its white clouds' fleecy fold, And the glimmering stars (thoug'h brighter) Look'd like home and days of old. And a calm would fall upon me; Worn, perhaps, With work and pain, The wild hungry longing left me, And I was myself again: 68 W4ECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. Looking at the silver waters, Looking up at the far sky, Dreams of home and all I left there Floated sorrowfully by. A fair face, but pale with sorrow, With blue eyes brimful of tears, And the little red mouth quivering With a smile to hide its fears; Holding out her baby toward me, From the sky she look'd on me; So it was that I last saw her, As the ship put out to sea. Sometimes (and a pang would seize me That the years were floating on) I would strive to paint her, alter'd, And the little baby gone: She no longer young and girlish, The child standing by her knee, And her face more pale and saddened With the weariness for me. Then I saw, as night grew darker, How she taught my child to pray, Holding its small hands together For its father far away: And I felt her sorrow weighing Heavier on me than mine own; Pitying her blighted spring-time, And her joy so earlyflown. Till upon my hands (now hardened With the rough, harsh toil of years,) Bitter drops of anguish falling, Woke me from my dream, in tears: Woke me as a slave, an outcast, Leagues from home, across the deep So-though you may call it childishSo I sobbed myself to sleep. Well, the years sped on-my sorrow Calmer and yet stronger grown, Was my shield against all suffering, Poorer, meaner, than her own. So my cruel master's harshness Fell upon me all in vain, Yet the tale of what we suffer'd Echoed back from main to main. You have heard in a far country Of a self-devoted band, Vow'd to rescue Christian captives Pining in- a foreign land. And these gentle-hearted strangers Year by year go forth from Rome, In their hands the hard-earned ransom To restore some exiles home. I was free: they broke the tidings Gently to me, but indeed Hour by hour sped on, I knew not What the words meant-I was freed t WRECK OF THE GOLDEN'MARY. Better so, perhaps, wild sorrow (More akin to earthly things) Only strains the sad heart's fibres — Joy, bright stranger, breaks the strings. fTet at last it rushed upon me, And my heart beat full and fast; What were now my years of waiting, What was all the dreary past? Nothing to th' impatient throbbing I must bear across the sea: Nothing to the eternal hours Still between my home and me! How the voyage passed, I know not; Strange it was once more to stand, With my countrymen around me, And to clasp an English hand. But, through all, my heart was dreaming Of the first words I should hear, In the gentle voice that echoed, Fresh as ever, on my ear. Should I see her start of wonder, And the sudden truth arise, Flushing all her face and lightning The dimm'd splendor of her eyes? 0! to watch the fear and doubting Stir the silent depths of pain, And the rush of joy —then melting Into perfect peace again. And the child! but why remember Foolish fancies that I thought? Every tree and every hedgerow From the well-known past I brought; I would picture my dear cottage, See the crackling wood-fire burn, And the two beside it, seated Watching, waiting my return. So, at last, we reached the harbor, I remember nothing more Till I stood, my sick heart throbbing With my hand upon the door. There I paused-I heard her speaking; Low, soft murmuring words she said; Then I first knew the dumb terror I had had lest she were dead. It was evening in late autumn, And the gusty wind blew chill; Autumn leaves were falling round me, And the red sun lit the hill. Six-and-twenty years are vanish'd Since then-I am old and grayBut I never told to mortal What I saw until this day. She was seated by the fire, In her arms she held a child, Whispering baby-words caressing, And then, looking up, she smiled. o WECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. Smiled on him who stood beside herO! the bitter truth was told! In her look of trusting fondness, I had seen the look of old.,ut she rose and turned toward me (Cold and dumb I waited there), With a shriek of fear and terror, And a white face of despair. He had been an ancient comradeNot a single word we said, While we gazed upon each other, He the living: I the dead! I drewa nearer, nearer to her, And I took her trembling hand, Looking on her white face, looking That her heart might understand All the love and all the pity That my lips refused to say! I thank God no thought save sorrow Rose in our crush'd hearts that day. Bitter tears that desolate moment, Bitter, bitter tears we wept We three broken hearts together, While the baby smiled and slept. Tears alone-no words were spoken, Till he-till -her husband said That my boy (I had forgotten The poor child) that he was dead. Then at last I rose, and, turning, Wrung his hand, but made no sign; And I stoop'd and kissed her forehead Once more as if she were mine. Nothing of farewell I uttered, Save in broken words to pray That God in His great love would bless herThen in silence pass'd away. Over the great restless ocean For six-and-twenty years I roam; All my comrades, old and weary, Have gone back to die at home. HIome! yes, I shall'reach a haven, I, too, shall reach home and rest; I shall find her waiting for me With our baby on her breast. While the foregoing story was being told, I had kept my eye fixed upon little Willy Lindsey, a young Scotch boy (one of the two apprentices), who had been recommended to Captain Ravender's care by a friend in Glasgow; and very sad it was to see the expression of his face. All the early part of the voyage be had been a favorite in the ship. The ballads he sang, and the curious old stories he told, made him a popular visitor in the cabin, no less than among the people. Though only entered as apprentice seaman, Captain Ravender had kept WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY 71 him as much about him as he could; and I am bold to say, the lad's affection for Captain Ravender was as sincere as if he had been one of his own blood. Even before the wreck, a change had taken place in his manner. He grew silent and thoughtful. Mrs. Atherfield and Miss Coleshaw, who had been very kind to him, observed the alteration, and bantered him on the melancholy nature of the songs he sang to them, and the sad air with which he went about the duties of the vessel. I asked him if any thing had occurred to make him dull; but he put me off with a laugh, and at last told me that he was thinking about his home; for, said he, a certain anniversary was coming soon; "and maybe I'll tell you," he added, " why the expectation of it makes me so sorrowful." He was a nice, delicate, almost feminine-looking boy, of sixteen or seventeen; the son of a small farmer in Ayrshire, as Captain Ravender's Glasgow friend had told him, and, as usual with his countrynmen, a capital hand at letters and accounts. He had brought with him a few books, chiefly of the wild and supernatural kind; and it seemed as if he had given way to his imagination more than was quite healthy, perhaps, for the other faculties of his mind. But we all set down his delight and belief in ghost stories and such like, to the superstition of his country, where the folks seem to make up for being the most matter-of-fact people in Europe in the affairs of this world, by being the wildest and most visionary inquirers into the'uffairs of the next. Willy had been useful to all departments on board. The steward had employed him at his ledger, Captain Ravender at his reckonings, and as to the passengers, they had made quite a friend and companion of the youth. So I watched his looks, as I've said before, and now I beckaned Willy to come to my side, that I might keep him as warm as I could. At first he either did not perceive my signal, or was too apathetic or too deep sunk in his own thoughts to act upon it. But the carpenter, who sat next him, seeing my motion, helped him across the begat,,idi i puc my arm round his shoulders. "Bear up, Willy," I said, "you're young and strong, and, with the help of Heaven, we shall all live to see our friends again." The boy's eye brightened with hope for a moment; then he shook his head and said: "You're very kind to say so, sir; but it oanna be-at least for me." The night was now closing fast in, but there was still light enough to see his face. It was quite calm, and wore a sort of smile. Everybody listened to hear what the poor laddie said; andl I whispered to him: ,A 2 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. "You promised to tell me why you were depressed by the coming of an anniversary, Willy. When is it?" "It's to-night,"' he said, with a solemn voice. "And 0 1 how different this is from what it used to be I It's the birth-day o' my sister Jean." "Come, tell us all about it," I said. "Maybe, speaking it out openly will easse your mind. Here, rest on my shoulder. No.w say on." We all tried to catch his words, and he began: "It's two years ago, this very day, since we hadi such a merry night of it in my father's house at home. He was a farmer in a sma' way up among the hills above the Doonl; and had the lands on a good tack, and was thought a richer man than any of his neighbors. There was only Jean and me o' the family; and I'm thinking nobody was ever so happy or well cared for as I was a' the time I was young. For my mither would let me want for nothing, and took me on her knee and tauld me long histories o' the Bruce and 1Wallace; and strange adventures with the warlocks; and sang nle a' Burns' songs, forbye reading me the grand auld stories out o' the Bible, about the death o' Goliath and the meeting o' King Saul and the Witch of Endor. Jean was a kind o' mniter to rue, too; for she was five years older, and spoilt me as much as she could. She was so bonny, it was a pleasure to look at her; and she helpit in the dairy, and often milkt the cows hersel'; and in the winter nights sat by the side o' the bleezy fire, and turned; the reel or span, keepin' time wi' some lang ballad about cruel Ranken coming in and killiing lady Margaret; or the ship that sailed away to Norway wi' Sir Patrick Spence, and sank wi' all the crew. The schoolmaster came up, when he was able, to gi'e me lessons; and as the road was long, and the nights were sometimes dark, it soon grew into the common custom for him to come up owv'r the hills on Friday, when the school was skailt, and stay till the Monday morning. He was a young man that had been intended for a minister, but the college expenses had been too much, and he had settled down as the parish teacher at Shalloch; and we always called him Dominie Blair. All the week through we looked for the Dominie's coming. Jean and I used to go and meet him at the bend o' the hill, where he came off from the high-road, and he began his lessons to me in botany the moment we turned toward home. I noticed that he aye required the specimens that grew at the side o' the burns that ran down valleys a good way off; but I was very vain of my running, and used to rush down the gully and gather the flower or weed, and overtake the two before they had walked on a mile. So you see, sir, it was na long before it was known all over the country side that Dominie Blair was going to marry my sister Jean. Everybody thought it a capital match, WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. i3 for Jean had beauty and siller, and Mr. Blair was the cleverest man in the county, and had the promise of the mastership of a school in the East country, with iinety pounds a-year. Our house grew happier now than ever; and when Jean's birthday came round, there was a gathering from far and near to do honor to the bonniest and kindest lass in all the parish. The minister himsel' came up on his pony, and drank prosperityto the young folks at the door; and inside at night there was a supper for all the neighbors, and John Chalmers played on the fiddle, and a' the rest of us sang songs, and danced and skirled like mad; and at last, when Jean's health was drank, with many wishes for her happiness, up she gets and lays her arms round my auld mither's neck, and bursts out into a great passion o' tears; and when she recovered herself, she said she would never be so happy anywhere else, and that weel or ill, dead or alive ~-in the body or in the spirit-she would aye come back on that night, and look in on the hame where she had spent sae sunshiny a life. Some o' them laughed at the wild affection she showed; and some took it seriously, and thought she had tied herself down by ow'r solemn a bargain; but in a wee while the mirth and frolicking gaed on as before, and all the company confessed it was the happiest evening they had ever spent in their lives. Do you ken Loch Luart, sir? —a wee bit water that stretches across between the Lureloch and the Breelen? Ah l the grand shadows that pass along it when you stand on the north side and look over to the hill. There's a great blackness settled upon the face, as if the sun had died away from the heavens altogether, till when he comes round the corner o' the mountain, a glorious procession o' sunbeams and colors taks its course across the whole length o' the water, and all the hillsides give out a kind o' glow, and at last the loch seems all on fire, and you can scarcely look at it for the brightness. A small skiff was kept at the side, for it saved the shepherds miles o) steep climbing to get from flock to flock, as it cut off two or three miles o' the distance between our house and Shalloch. One Friday, soon after the merry meeting at Jean's birthday, she set off as usual to meet Mr. Blair. How far she went, or where she met him, nobody could tell, for nothing was ever seen or heard o' them from that day to this; only the skiff on Loch Luart was found keel up, and the prints o' feet that answered to their size were seen on the wet bank. Nothing wad persuade my mother for many a day that she wasna coming back. When she heard a step at the door, she used to flush up with a great redness in her cheek, and run to let her in. Then when she saw it was a stranger, she left the door open and came back into the kitchen without sayin' a word. My father spoke very little, but sometimes he seemed to forget that Jean was taken away, and called for her to come to him in a cheery voice, as he 114 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. used to do; and then, wi' a sudden shake o' his head, he remem-:bered that she was gone, and passed away to his work, as if his heart was broken. And other things came on to disturb him now, for some bank, or railway, or something o' the kind, where he had bought some shares, failed with a great crash, and he was called on to make up the loss; and he grew careless about every thing that happened, and the horses and carts were seized for debt, and a' the cows except two were taken away, and the place began to go to rack and ruin; and at last Jean's birthday cam' round again. But we never spoke about it the whole day long, though none of the three thought of any thing else. My father pretended to be busy in the field; my mother spun -never letting the thread out o' her hand; and as for me, I wandered about the hills from early morning, and only came back when the dark night began. All through the lengthening hours we sat and never spoke; but sometimes my father put a fresh supply of peats upon the fire, and stirred it up into a blaze, as if it pleased him to see the great sparkles flying up the chimney. At last my mother, all of a sudden, ceased her spinning, and said,'H ark! do you no' hear somebody outside?' An( we listened without getting up from our seats. We heard a sound as'if somebody was slipping by on tip-toe on the way to the Byre; and then we heard a low, wailing sound, as if the person was trying to restrain some great sorrow; and immediately we heard the same footstep, as if it were lost in snow, coming up to the house. My mither stood up wi' her hand stretched out, and looked at the window. Outside the pane-where the rose-tree has grown sae thick it half hides the lower half-we heard a rustling, as if somebody was putting aside the leaves, and then, when a sudden flicker o' the flame threw its light upon the casement, we saw the faint image o' a bonny pale face —very sad to look on-wi' lang tresses o' yellow hair hanging straight down the cheeks, as if it was dripping wet, and heard low, plaintive sobs; but nothing that we could understand. My mither ran forward, as if to embrace the visitor, and cried,' Jean! Jean I O, let me speak to you, my bairn 1' But the flame suddenly died away in the grate, and we saw nothing mair. But we all knew now that Jean had been drowned in Loch Luart, and that she minded the promise she had made to come and see the auld house upon her birthday." Here the boy paused in his narrative for a moment, and I felt his breath coming and going very quick, as if his strength was getting rapidly exhausted. "Rest a while, Willy," I said, "and try, if you can, to sleep." But nothing could restrain him from finishing his tale. "Na, na I canna rest upon your arm, sir. I ha'e wark to do, and it maun be done this night-wae's me I I didna think, last year at this time, that ever I wad be'here." He WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 75 looked round with a shudder at the boiling waves ti t rose high at the side of the boat, and shut out the faint glimmer that still lingered on the horizon line. " So Jean was drowned, ye see," he continued; "and couldna put foot inside-for a' they can do is to look in and see what's doing at the auld fireside through the window. But even this was a comfort to my mither; and as I saw how glad it made her to have this assurance that she wasna forgotten, I made her the same promise that Jean had done on her birthday: ill or weel, happy Qr miserable, in the body or in the spirit —I wad find my way to the farm-house, and gi'e her some sign that I loved her as I had always done. And now I ken what they're doing as if I wat. at hame. They're sitting sad and lonely in the silent kitchen. My father puts fresh peats upon the' grate, and watches their flame as it leaps and crackles up the fire-place; and my mither: -Ah I"'-here he stretched forward as if to see some object before him more distinctly —" ah 1 she's spinning, spinning as if to keep herself from thinking-and tears are running down her face; and I see the cheery fire, and the heather bed. in the corner, and the round table in the middle, and the picture o' Abraham and Isaac on the wall, and my fishing-rod hung up. aboon the mantelpiece, and my herding-slaff, and my old blue bonnet. But how cold it is, sir," he went on, turning to me; "I felt a touch on my shoulder just now that made me creep as if the hand we"e ice and I looked up and saw the same face we had noticed last year; and I feel the clammy fingers yet, and they go downward-downward, chilling me a' the way till my blood seems frozen, and I canna speak. 0, for anither look at the fire and the warm cosy room, and my father's white head, and my puir auld mither's een I" So saying, he tried to rise, and seemed to be busy putting aside something that interfered with his view. " The rose-tree I" he said; "its thicker than ever, and I canna see clear I" At last he appeared to get near the object he sought; and, after altering his position, as if to gain a perfect sight, he said: " I see them a' again. 0, mither I turn your face this way, for ye see I've kept my word; and we're both here. Jean's beside me, and very cold-and we dareena, come in." He watched for about a minute, still gazing intently, and then, with a joyous scream, he exclaimed: " She sees me,-she sees me l Did na ye hear her cry? 0 mither, mither I tak' me to your arms, for I'm. chilled wi' the salt water, and naething will make me warm again." I tightened my hold of poor Willy as he spoke, for he gradually lost his power, and at last lay speechless with his head on my shoulder. I concealed from the rest the sad event that occurred in a few minutes, and kept the body hidden till the darkest part of the night, closely wrapped in my cloak. BOOK THE THIRD. TIlE DELIVERANCE. WI.EN the sun rose on the twenty-seventh day of our calamity, the first question that I secretly asked myself was, How many more mornings will the stoutest of us live to see? I had kept count, ever since we took to the boats, of the days of the week; and I knew that we had now arrived at another Thursday. Judging by my own sensations (and I believe I had as much strength left as the best man among us), I came'to the conclusion that, unless the mercy of Providence interposed to effect our deliverance, not one of our company could hope to see another morning after the morning of Sunday. Two discoveries that I made-after redeeming my promise overnight, to serve out with the morning whatever eatable thing I could find-helped to confirm me in my gloomy view of our future prospects. In the first place, when the few coffee-berries left, together with a small allowance of water, had been shared all round, I found on examining the lockers that not one grain of provision remained, fore or aft, in any part of the boat, and that our stock of fresh water was reduced to not much more than would fill a wine-bottle. In the second place, after the berries had been shared, and the water equally divided, I noticed that the sustenance thus administered produced no effect whatever, even of the most momentary kind, in raising the spirits of the passengers (excepting in one case) or in rallying the strength of the crew. The exception was Mr. Rarx. This tough and greedy old sinner seemed to wake up from the trance he had lain in so long, when the smell of the berries and water was under his nose. He swallowed his share with a gulp that many a younger and better man in the boat might have envied; and went maundering on to himself afterward, as if he had got a new lease of life. He fancied now that he was digging a gold mine, all by himself, and going down bodily straight through the earth at the rate of thirty or forty miles an hour. "Leave me alone," says he, "leave me alone. The lower I go, the richer I get. Down I go! —down, down, down, down, till I burst out at the other end of the world in a shower of gold!" So he went on, kicking feebly with his heels from time to time against the bottom of the boat. But, as for all the rest, it was a pitiful and dreadful sight to see how little use their last shadow of a meal was to them. I (76) WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. I myself attended, before anybody else was served, to the two poor women. Miss Coleshaw shook her head faintly, and pointed to her throat, when I offered her the few berries that fell to her share. I m:ade a shift to crush them up fine and mix them with a little water, and got her to swallow that miserable drop of drink with the greatest difficulty. When it was down there came no change for the better over her face. Nor did she recover, for so much as a moment, the capacity to speak, even in a whisper. I next tried Mrs. Atherfield. It was hard to wake her out of the half-swooning, half-sleeping condition in which she lay,-and harder still to get her to open her lips when I put the tin-cup to them.'When I had at last prevailed on her to swallow her allowance, she shut her eyes again, and fell back into her old position. I saw her lips moving; and, putting my ear close to them, caught some of the words she was murmuring to herself. She was still dreaming of the Golden Lucy. She and the child were walking somewhere by the banks of a lake, at the time when the buttercups are out. The Golden Lucy was gathering the buttercups, and making herself a watch-chain out of them, in imitation of the dhain that her mother wore. They wei carrying a little basket with them, and were going to dine together in a great hollow tree growing on the banks of the lake. To get this pretty picture painted on one's mind as I got it, while listening to the poor mother's broken words, and then to look up at the haggard faces of the men in the boat, and at the wild ocean rolling all round us, was such a change from fancy to reality as it has fallen, I hope, to few men's lots to experience. My next thought, when I had done my best for the women, was for the Captain. I was free to risk losing my own share of water, if I pleased, so I tried, before tasting it myself, to get a little between his lips; but his teeth were fast clenched, and I had neither strength nor skill to open them. The faint warmth still remained, thank God, over his heart-but, in all other respects he lay beneath us like a dead man. In covering him up again as comfortably as I could, I found a bit of paper crunched in one of his hands, and took it out. There was some writing on it, but not a word was readable. I supposed, poor fellow, that he had been trying to write some last instructions for me, just before he dropped at his post. If they had ever been so easy to read, they would have been of no use now. To follow instructions we must have had some power to shape the boat's course in a given direction-and this, which we had been gradually losing for some days past, we had now lost altogether. I had hoped that the serving out of the refreshment would have put a little modicum of strength into the arms of the men at the oars; but, as I have hinted, this hope turned out to be perfectly fruitless. Our last mockery of a meal, which had 78 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. done nothing for the passengers, did nothing either for the crew-except to aggravate the pangs of hunger in the men who were still strong enough to feel them. While the weather held moderate, it was not of much consequence if one or two of the rowers kept dropping, in turn, into a kind of faint sleep over their oars. But if it came on to bloxw again (and we could expect nothing else in those seas and at that time of the year), how was I to steer, when the blades of the oars were out of the water ten times as often as they were in? The lives which we had undergone such suffering to preserve would have been lost in an instant by the swamping of the boat, if the wind had risen on the morning of Thursday, and had caught us trying to row any longer. Feeling this, I resolved, while the weather held moderately fine, to hoist the best substitute for a sail that we could produce, and to drive before the wind, on the chance (the last we had to hope for) of a ship picking us up. We had only continued to use the oars up to this time, in order to keep the course which the Captain had pointed out as likeliest to bring us near the hand. Sailing had been out of the question from the first, the masts and suits of sails belonging to each boat having been out of them at the time of 4e wreck, and having gone down with tile ship. This was an accident which there was no need to deplore, for we were too crowded from the first to admit of handling the boats properly, under their regular press of sail, in any thing like rough weather. Having made up my mind on what it was necessary to do, I addressed the men, and told them that any notion of holding longer on our course with the oars was manifestly out of the question, and dangerous to all on board, as their own common sense might tell them, in the state to which the stoutest arms among us were now reduced. They looked round on each other as I said that, each man seeming to think his neighbor weaker than himself. I went on, and told them that we must take advantage of our present glimpse of moderate. weather, and hoist the best sail we could set up, and drive before the wind, in the hope that it might please God to direct us in the way of some ship before it was too late. " Our only chance, my men," I said, in conclusion, " is the chance of being picked up; and in these desolate seas one point of the compass is just as likely a point for our necessities as another. Half of you keep the boat before the sea, the other half bring out your knives, and do as I tell you." The prospect of being relieved from the oars struck the wandering attention of the men directly; and they said, "Ay, ay, sir I" with something like a faint reflection of their former readiness, when the good ship was under their feet, and the mess-cans were filled with plenty of wholesome food. Thanks to Captain Ravender's forethought in providing both WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 79 boats with a coil of rope, we had our lashings, and the means of making what rigging was wanted, ready to hand. One of the oars was made fast to the thwart, and well stayed fore and aft, for a mast. A large pilot coat that I wore was spread; enough of sail for us. The only difficulty that puzzled me was occasioned- by the necessity of making a yard. The men tried to tear up one of the thwarts, but were not strong enough. My own knife had been broken in the attempt to split a bit of plank for them; and I was almost at my wit's end, when I luckily thought of searching the Captain's pockets for his knife. I found it-a fine large knife of Sheffield manufacture, with plenty of blades, and a small saw among them. With this we made a shift to.saw off about a third of another oar; and then the difficulty was conquered; and we got my pilot-coat hoisted on our jury-mast, and rigged it as nigh as we could to the fashion of a lug-sail. I had looked anxiously toward the surf-boat, while we were rigging our mast, and observed, with a feeling of great relief, that the men in her-as soon as they discovered what we were about-were wise enough to follow our example. They got on faster than we did; being less put to it for room to turn round in. We set our sails as nearly as possible about the same time; and it was well for both boats that we finished our work when we did. At noon the wind began to rise again to a stiff breeze, which soon knocked up a heavy, tumbling sea. We drove before it in a direction North and by East, keeping wonderfully dry, considering all things.'The mast stood well; and the sail, small as it Was, did good service in steadying the boat and lifting her easily over the seas. I felt the cold after the loss of my coat, but not so badly as I had feared; for the two men who were with me in the stern sheets, sat as close as they could on either side of me, and helped with the warmth of their own bodies to keep the warmth in mine. Forward, I told off halfa-dozen of the most trustworthy of the men who could still muster strength enough to keep their eyes open, to set a watch, turn and turn about, on our frail rigging. The wind was steadily increasing, and if any accident happened to our mast, the chances were that the boat would broach-to, and that every one of us would go to the bottom. So we drove on-all through that day-sometimes catching sight of the surf-boat a little ahead of us —sometimes losing her altogether in the scud. How little and frail, how very different to the kind of boat that I nad expected to see, she looked to my eyes now that I was out of her,-and saw what she showed like on the waters for the first time! But to return to the long-boat. The watch on the rigging was relieved every two hours, and at the same regular periods all the brightest eyes left amongst us looked out for the smallest vestige of a sail 5 80 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. in view, and looked in vain. Among the passengerss, nothing happened in the way of a change-except that Miss Coleshaw seemed to grow fainter, and that Mrs. Atherfield got restless, as if-she were waking out of her long dream about the Golden Lucy. It got on toward sunset. The wind was rising to half a gale. The clouds which had been heavy all over the firmament since noon, were lifting to the westward, and leaving there, over the horizon line of the ocean, a long strip of clear pale greenish sky, overhung by a cloud-bank, whose ragged edges were tipped with burning crimson by the sun. I did not like the look of the night, and, keeping where I was, in the forward part of the boat, I helped the men to ease the strain off our mast, by lowering the yard a little and taking a pull on the sheet, so as to present to the wind a smaller surface even of our small sail. Noting the wild look of the weather, and the precautions we were taking against the chance of a gale rising in the night —and being, furthermore, as I believe, staggered in their minds by the death that had taken place among themthree of the passengers struggled up in the bottom of the boat, clasped their arms round me as if they were drowning men already, and hoarsely clamored for a last drink of water, before the storm rose and sent us all to the bottom. "Water you shall have," I said, "when I think the time has come to serve it out. The time has not come yet." " Water, pray I" they all three groaned together. Two more passengers who were asleep, woke up, and joined the cry. "Silence!" I said. "There are not two spoonsful of fresh water left for each man in the boat. I shall wait three hours more for the chance of rain before I serve that out. Silence, and drop back to your places I" They let go of me, but clamored weakly for water still; and, this time, the voices of some of the crew joined them. At this moment, to my great alarm (for I thought they were going mad and turning violent against me), I was seized round the neck by one of the men, who had been standing up, holding on by the mast, and looking out steadily to the westward. I raised my right hand to free myself; but before I touched him, the sight of the man's face close to mine made me drop my arm again. There was a speechless, breathless, frantic joy in it, that made,all the blood in my veins stand still in a moment. "Out with it 1" I said. "Man alive, out with it, for God:s sake I" His breath beat on my cheek in hot, quick, heavy gasps; but he could not utter a word. For a moment he let go of the mast (tightening hia hold on me with the other arm) and WRECK/ OF THE GOLDEN MARY 81 pointed out westward-then slid heavily down on to the thwart behind us. I looked westward, and saw that one of the two trustworthy men whom I had left at the helm was on his feet looking out westward, too. As the boat -rem, I fixed my eyes on the strip of clear greenish sky in the west, and of the bright line of the sea just under it. The boat dipped again before I could see any thing. I squeezed my eyelids together to get the water out of them, and when we rose again looked straight into the middle of the bright sea-line. My heart bounded as if it wouli choke me —my tongue felt like a cinder in my mouth-my knees gave way under me —I dropped down on to the thwart, and sobbed out, with a great effort, as if I had been dumb for weeks before, and had only that instant found my speech: "A sail! a sail I" The words were instantly echoed by the man in the stern sheets. "Sail ho I" he screeches out, turning round on us, and swinging his arms about his head like a madman. This made three of our company who had seen the ship already, and that one fact was sufficient to remove all dread lest our eyes might have been deceiving us. The great fear now was, not that we were deluded, but that we might come to some serious harm through the excess of joy among the people; that is to say, among such of the people as still had the sense to feel and the strength to express what they felt. I must record in my own justification, after confessing that I lost command over myself altogether on the discovery of the sail, that I was the first who set the example of self-control. I was in a manner forced to this by the crew frantically entreating me to lay-to until we could make out what course the ship was steering —a proceeding which, with the sea then running, with the heavy lading of the boat, and with such feeble substitutes for mwt and sail as we possessed, must have been attended with total destruction to us all. I tried to remind the men of this, but they were in such a transport-hugging each other round the neck, and crying and laughing all in a breath-that they were not fit to listen to reason. Accordingly, I myself went to the helm again, and chose the steadiest of my two men in the after part of the boat, as a guard over the sheet, with instructions to use force, if necessary, toward any one who stretched out so much as a finger to it. The wind was rising every minute, and we had nothing for it but to scud, and be thankful to God's mercy that we had sea-room to do it in. "It will be dark in an hour's time, sir," says the man left along with me when I took the helm again. " We have no light to show. The ship will pass us in the night. Lay to, airl For the love of Heaven, give us all a chance, and lay 8,2 TWRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. to I" says he, and goes down on his knees before me, wringing his hands. "Lay to I" says 1. "Lay to, under a coat l Lay to, in a boat like this, with the wind getting up to a gale? A seaman like you talk in that way! Who have I got along here with me? Sailors who know their craft, or a pack of'long-shore lubbers, who ought to be turned adrift in a ferry-boat on a pond?" My heart was heavy enough, God knows, but I spoke out as loud as I could, in that light way, to try and shame the men back to their proper senses. I succeeded at least in restoring silence; and that was something in such a condition as ours. My next anxiety was to know if the men in the surf-boat had sighted the sail to the westward. She was still driving a-head of us, and the first time I saw her rise on the waves, I made out a signal on board-a strip of cloth fastened to a boathook. I ordered the man by my side to return it with his jacket tied on to the end of an oar; being anxious to see whether his agitation had calmed down and left him fit for his duty again. He followed my directions steadily and when he had got his jacket on again, asked me to pardon him for losing his self-command in a quiet, altered voice. I shook hands with him, and gave him the helm,' in proof that my confidence was restored; then stood up and turned my face to the westward once again. I looked long into the belt of clear sky, which was narrowing already as the cloud-bank above sank over it. I looked with all my heart and soul and strength. It was only when my eyes could stand the strain on them no longer, that I gave in, and sat down aggain by the tiller. If I had not been supported by a firm trust in the mercy of Providence, which had preserved us thus far, I am afraid I should have abandoned myself at that trying time to downright hopeless, speechless despair. It would not express much to any but sea-faring readers if I mentioned the number of leagues off that I considered the ship to be. I shall give a better idea of the terrible distance there was between us, when I say that no landsman's eye could have made her out at all, and that none of us sailors could have seen her but for the bright opening in the sky, which made even a speck on the waters visible to a mariner's experienced sight all that weary way off. When I have said this, I have said enough to render it plain to every man's understanding that it was a sheer impossibility to make out what course the ship was steering, seeing that we had no chance of keeping her in view at that closing time of day for more than another half-hour, at most. There she was, astern to leeward of us; and here were we, driving for our lives before the wind, with any means of kiniling a light that we might have possessed on leaving our ship WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 83 wetted through long ago-with no guns to fire as signals of distress in the darkness-and with no choice, if the wind shifted, but still to scud in any direction in which it might please to drive us. Supposing, even at the best that the ship was steering on our course, and would overhaul us in the night, what chance had we of making our position known to her in the darkness? Truly, look at it any how we might from our poor mortal point of view, our prospect of deliverance seemed to be of the most utterly hopeless kind that it is possible to conceive. The men felt this bitterly, as the cloud-bank dropped to the verge of the waters, and the sun set redly behind it. The moaning and lamenting among then. was miserable to hear, when the last speck and phantom of the ship had vanished from view. Some few still swore they saw her when there was hardly a flicker of light left in the west, and only gave up looking out, and dropped down in the boat; at my express orders. I charged them all solemnly to set an example of courage to the passengers, and to trust the rest to the infinite wisdom and mercy of the Creator of us all. Some murmured, some fell to repeating scraps out of the Bible and Prayer-Book, some wan4dered again in their minds. This went on till the darkness gathered-then a great hush of silence fell drearily over passengers and crew; and the waves and the wind hissed and howled about us, as if we were tossing in the midst of them, a boat load of corpses already? Twice in the forepart of the night the clouds overhead parted for a little, aud let the blessed moonlight down upon us. On the first of those occasions, I myself served out the last drops of fresh water we had left. The two women-poor suffering creatures!-were past drinking. Miss Coleshaw shivered a little when I moistened her lips with the water; and Mrs. Atherfield, when I did the same for her, drew her breath with a faint, fluttering sigh, which was just enough to show that she was not dead yet. The Captain still lay as he had lain ever since I got on board the boat. The others, both passengers and crew, managed for the most part to swallow their share of the water-the men being just sufficiently roused by it to get up or their knees, while the moonlight lasted, and look about wildly over the ocean for a chance of seeing the ship again. Whei. the clouds gathered once more; they crouched back in their places with a long groan of despair. Hearing that, and dread. ing the effect of the pitchy darkness (to say nothing- of the fierce wind and sea) on their sinking spirits, I resolved to com. bat their despondency, if it were still possible to contend against, by giving them something to do. First telling them that no man could say at what time of the night the ship (in case she was fteering our course) might forge ahead of us, or 84 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. how near slie might be when she passed, I recommenaed that all who had the strength should join their voices at regular intervals, and shout their loudest when the boat rose highest on the waves, on the chance of that cry of distress being borne by the wind within hearing of the watch on board the ship. It is unnecessary to say that I knew well how near it was to an absolute impossibility that this last feeble exertion on our parts could lead to any result. I only proposed it because I was driven to the end of my resources to keep up the faintest flicker of spirit among the men. They received my proposal with more warmth and readiness than I had ventured in their hopeless state to expect from them. Up to the turn of midnight they resolutely raised their voices with me, at intervals of from five to ten minutes, whenever the boa, was tossed highest on the waves. The wind seemed to whirl oui weak cries savagely out of our mouths almost before we could utter them. I, sitting astern in the boat, only heard them, as it seemed, for something like an instant of time. But even that was enough to make me creep all over-the cry was so forlorn and fearful. Of all the dreadful sounds I had heard since the first striking of the ship, that shrill wail of despair-rising on the wave-tops, one moment; whirled away, the next, into the black nightwas the most frightful that entered my ears. There are times, even now, when it seems to be ringing in them still. Whether our first gleam of moonshine fell upon old Mr. Rarx, while he was sleeping, and helped to upset his weak brains altogether, is more than I can say. But, for some reason or other, before the clouds parted and let the light down on us for the second time, and while we were driving along awfully through the blackest of the night, he stirred in his place, and began rambling and raving again more vehemently than ever. To hear him now —that is to say, as well as I could hear him for the wind-he was still down in his gold mine; but was laden so heavy with his precious metal that he could not get out, and was in mortal peril of being drowned by the water rising in the bottom of the shaft. So far, his maundering attracted my attention disagreeably, and did no more. But when he began —if I may say so —to take the name of the dear little dead child in vain, and to mix her up with himself and his miserly greed of gain, I got angry, and called to the men forward to give him a shake and make him hold his tongue. Whether any of them obeyed or not, I don't know-Mr. Rarx went on raving louder than ever. The shrill wind was now hardly more shrill than he. IIe swore he saw the white frock of our poor little lost pet fluttering in the daylight, at the top of the mine, and he screamed out to her in a great fright that the gold was heavy, and the water rising fast, and that she must come down quick as lightning if are meuast to be in time to help WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 85 him. I called again angrily to the men to silence him; and just as I did so, the clouds began to part for the second time, and the white tip of the moon grew visible. " There she is I" screeches Mr. Rarx; and I saw him by the faint light, scramble on his knees in the bottom of the boat, and wave a ragged old handkerchief up at the moon. "Pull him down I" I called out. "Down with him; and tie his arms and legs!" Of the men who could still move about, not one. paid any attention to me. They were all upon their knees again, looking out in the strengthening moonlight for a sight of the ship. "Quick, Golden Lucy!" screams Mr. Rarx, and creeps under the thwarts right forward into the bows of the boat. "Quick! my darling, my beauty, quick I The gold is heavy, and the water rises fast! Come down and save me, Golden Lucy I Let all the rest of the world drown, and save me I Me Ime me I me meI" He shouted these last words out at the top of his cracked, croaking voice, and got on his feet, as I conjectured (for the coat we had spread for a sail now hid him from me), in the bows of the boat. Not one of the crew so much as looked round at him, so eagerly were their eyes seeking for the ship. The man sitting by me was sunk in a deep sleep. If I had left the helm for a moment in that wind and sea, it would have been the death of every soul of us. I shouted desperately to the raving wretch to sit down. A screech that seemed to cut the. very wind in two answered me. A huge wave tossed the boat's head up wildly at the same moment. I looked aside to leeward as the wash of the great roller swept by us, gleaming of a lurid, bluish white in the moonbeams; I looked and saw, in one second of time, the face of Mr. Rarx rush past on the wave, with the foam seething in his hair, and the moon shining in his eyes. Before I could draw my breath, he was a hundred yards astern of us, and the night and the sea had swallowed him up and had hid his secret, which he had kept all the voyage from our mortal curiosity, forever. "He's gone I he's drownedl" I shouted to the men forward. None of them took any notice; none of them left off looking out over the ocean for a sight of the ship. Nothing that I could say on the subject of our situation at that fearful time can, in my opinion, give such an idea of the extremity and the frightfulness of it, as the relation of this one fact. I leave it to speak by itself the sad and shocking truth, and pass on gladly to the telling of what happened next, at a later hour of the night. After the clouds had shut out the moon again, the wind dropped a little, and shifted a point or two, so as to shape 86 WRECK OF TIIE GOLDEN MARY. our course nearer to the eastward. How the hours passed after that, till the dawn came, is more than I can tell. The nearer the time of daylight approached, the more completely every thing seemed to drop out of my mind, except the one thought of where the ship we had seen in the evening might be, when we looked for her with the morning light. It came at last —that gray, quiet light which was to end all our uncertainty; which was to show us if we were saved, or to warn us if we were to prepare for death. ~Vith the first streak in the east, every one of the boat's company, except the sleeping and the senseless, roused up and looked out in breathless silence upon the sea. Slowly and slowly the daylight strengthened, and the darkness rolled off further and further before it over the face of the waters. The first pale flush of the sun flew trembling along the paths of light broken through the gray wastes of the eastern clouds. We could look clearly-we could see far; and there, ahead of us-O I merciful, bountiful providence of God!-there was the ship I I have honestly owned the truth and confessed to the human infirmity under suffering of myself, my passengers, and my crew. I have earned, therefore, as I would fain hope, the right to record it to the credit of all, that the men, the moment they set eyes on the ship, poured out their whole hearts in humble thanksgiving to the Divine Mercy which had saved them from the very jaws of death. They did not wait for me to bid them do this: they did it of their own accord, in their own language, fervently, earnestly, with one will and one heart. We had hardly made the ship out-a fine brigantine, hoisting English colors-before we observed that her crew suddenly hove her up to the wind. At first we were at a loss to understand this, but as we drew nearer we discovered that she was getting the surf-boat (which had kept ahead of us all through the night) alongside of her, under the lee bow. My men tried to cheer when they saw their companions in safety, but their weak cries died away in tears and sobbing. In another half hour we, too, were alongside of En hvigantine. From this point I recollect nothing very d;,:tiau. y. I remember faintly many loud voices and eager fac ii remember fresh strong willing fellows, with a color in tbli ci.eeks, and a smartness in their movements that seemed qui a pt: bernatural to me at that time, hanging over us in the riggir 4' e brigantine, and dropping down from her sides into our boat; I remember trying with my feeble hands to help them in the difficult and perilous task of getting the two poor women and the captain on board; I remember one dark hairy giant of a man swearing that it was enough to break his heart, and catching me in his arms like a child-and from that moment I remember nothing more with the slightest certainty for over a week of time. WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY 87 When I came to my own senses again, in my cot on board the brigantine, my first inquiries were naturally for my fellowsufferers. Two-a passenger in the long-boat, and one of the crew of the surf-boat-had sunk in spite of all the care that could be taken of them. The rest were likely, with time and attention, to recover. Of those who have been particularly mentioned in this narrative, Mrs. Atherfield had shown signs of rallying the soonest; Mliss Coleshaw, who had held out longer against exhaustion, was now the slower to recover. Captain Ravender, though slowly mending, was still not able to speak or to move in his cot without help. The sacrifices for us all which this good man had so nobly undergone, not only in the boat but before that, when he had deprived himself of his natural rest on the dark nights that preceded the wreck of the Golden Mary, had sadly undermined his natural strength of constitution. He, the heartiest of all when we sailed from England, was now, through his unwearying devotion to his duty and to us, the last to recover, the longest to linger between life and death. My next questions (when they helped me on deck to get my first blessed breath of fresh air) related to the vessel that had saved us. She was bound to the Columbia river-a long way to the northward of the port for which we had sailed in the Golden Mary. Most providentially for us, shortly after we had lost sight of the brigantine in the shades of evening, she had been caught in a squall, and had sprung her fore topmast badly. This accident had obliged them to lay-to for some hours, while they did their best to secure the spar, and had warned them, when they continued on their course, to keep the ship under easy sail through the night. But for this circumstance we must, in all human probability have been too far astern, when the morning dawned, to have had the slightest chance of being discovered. Excepting always some of the stoutest-of our men, the next of the long-boat's company who was helped on deck was Mrs. Atherfield. Poor soul! when she and I first looked at each other I could see that her heart went back to the early days of our voyage, when the golden Lucy and I used to have our game of hide-and-seek round the mast. She squeezed my hand as hard as she' could with her wasted trembling fingers, and looked up piteously in my face, as if she would like to speak to little Lucy's playfellow, but dared not trust herself-then turned away quickly and laid her head against the bulwark, and looked out upon the desolate sea, that was nothing to her now but her darling's grave. I was better pleased when I saw her later in the day sitting by Captain Ravender's cot, for she seemed to take comfort in nursing him. Miss Coleshaw soon afterward got strong enough to relieve her at this duty, and, 88 WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. between them, they did the captain such a world or good, both in body and spirit, that he also got strong enough before long to come on deck and to thank me, in his old generous self-forgetful way, for having done my duty-the duty which I had learned how to do by his example. Hearing what our destination had been when we sailed from England, the captain of the brigantine (who had treated us with the most unremitting attention and kindness, and had been warmly seconded in his efforts for our good by all the people under his command) volunteered to go sufficiently out of his course to enable us to speak the first California coasting-vessel sailing in the direction of San Francisco. We were lucky in meeting with one of these sooner than we expected. Three days after parting from the kind captain of the brigantine, we, the surviving passengers and crew of the Golden Mary, touched the firm ground once more on the shores of California. We were hardly collected here before we were obliged to separate again. Captain Ravender, though he was hardly yet in good traveling trim, accompanied Mrs. Atherfield inland, to see her safe under her husband's protection. Miss Coleshaw went with them, to stay with Mrs. Atherfield for a little while before she attempted to proceed with any matters of her own which had brought her to this part of the world. The rest of us, who were left behind with nothing particular to do until the Captain's return, followed the passengers to the gold diggings. Some few of us had enough of the life there in a very short time. The rest seemed bitten by old Mr. Rarx's mania for gold, and insisted on stopping behind when Rames and I proposed going back to the port. We two, and five of our steadiest seamen, were all the officers and crew left to meet the Captain on his return from the inland country. He reported that he had left Mrs. Atherfield and Miss Coleshaw safe and comfortable under Mr. Atherfield's care. They sent affectionate messages to all of us, and especially (I am proud to say) to me. After hearing this good news, there seemed nothing better to do than to ship on board the first vessel bound for England. There were plenty in port, ready' to sail, and only waiting for the men belonging to them who had deserted to the gold-diggings. We were all snapped up eagerly, and offered any rate we chose to set on our services, the moment we made known our readiness to ship for England -all, I ought have said, except Captain Ravender, who went along with us in the capacity of passenger only. Nothing of any moment occurred on the voyage back. The Captain and I got ashore at Gravesend safe and hearty, and went up to London as fast as the train could carry us, to report the calamity that had occurred to the owners of the Golden Mary. When that duty had been performed, Captain Ravender went WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY. 89 back to his own. house at Poplar, and I traveled to the West of England to report myself, to my old father and mother. Here I might well end all these pages of writing; but I cannot refrain from adding a few more sentences, to tell the reader what I am sure he will be glad to hear. In the summer time of this present year eighteen hundred and fifty-six, I happened to be at New York, and having spare time on my hands, and spare cash in my pocket, I walked into one of the biggest and grandest of their Ordinaries there, to have my dinner. I had hardly sat down at table, before who should I see opposite but Mrs. Atherfield, as bright-eyed and pretty as ever, with a gentleman on her right hand, and on her left-another Golden Lucy I Her hair was a shade or two darker than the hair of my poor little pet of past sad times; but in all other respects the living child reminded me so strongly of the dead, that I quite started at the first sight of her. I could not tell, if I was to try, how happy we were after dinner, or how much we had to say to each other. I was introduced to Mrs. Atherfield's husband, and heard from him, among other things, that Miss Coleshaw was married to her old sweetheart, who had fallen into misfortunes and errors, and whom she was determined to set right by giving him the great chance in life of getting a good wife. They were settled in America, like Mr. and Mrs. A.therfield-these last and the child being on their way, when I met them, to visit a friend living in the northernmost part of the States. 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BY CHARLES DICKENS. ("B O Z.") PETERSONS' UNIFORM EDITION OF DICKENS' WORKS. CONTAINING THE PICKWICK PAPERS. A TALE OF TWO CITIES. NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. DICKENS' NEW STORIES. DOMBEY AND SON. DICKENS' SHORT STORIES. DAVID COPPERFIELD. PICTURES FRO5M ITALY. BLEAK HOUSE. SKETCHES FROM OUR PARISH LITTLE DORRIT. STREET SCENES. DICKENS' NEW YEARS' STORIES. REAL CHARACTERS. OLIVER TWIST. LIFE OF MR. TUERUMBLE MARTIN CHUZZLEWIT. HARD TIMES. OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. SEVEN POOR TRAVELERS. BARNABY RUDGE. THE SCHOOLBOY'S STORY. DICKENS' HOLIDAY STORIES. THE OLD LADY'S STCOV. SKETCHES BY BOZ. OVER THE WAY'S STORY. CHRISTMAS STORIES. THE ANGEL'S STORY. AMERICAN NOTES. THE SQUIRE'S STORY. PIC-NIC PAPERS. UNCLE GEORGE'S STORY. THE HAUNTED HOUSE. THE COLONEL'S STORY. A CHRISTMAS CAROL. THE SCHOLAR'S STORY. THE CHIMES. TtI1 BOARDING HOUSE. CRICKET ON THE HEARTH. Ti4jA TWO APPRENTICES. THE HAUNTED MAN. THE BATTLE OF LIFE. THE GHOST'S BARGAIN. A HOUSE TO LET, ETC., ETC, p ia lnalpllia: T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS, 306 CHESTNUT STREET. CONTENTS A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA.................................. CHAPTER I. TIE VILLAGE.................................9................ 9 CHAPTER II. THE MONEY................................................................. 13 CHAPTER III. THE CLUB-NIGHT...................................................... 19 CHAPTER IV. THE SEA-FARING MAN...........................................51 CHAPTER V. TaE RESTITUTION.................................... 68 rHE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER......................... 75 A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. CHAPTER I. the pack-horses and pack-donkeys, ant the voices of the fishermen urging them TEIE VILLAGE. up, mingled with the voices of the fish ermen's wives and their many children. "AND a mighty sing'lar and pretty The pier was musical with the wash of place it is, as ever I saw in all the days the sea, the creaking of capstans and of my life!" said Captain Jorgan, look- windlasses, and the airy fluttering of ing up at it. little vanes and sails. The rough, seaCaptain Jorgan had to look high to bleached boulders of which the pier was look at it, for the village was built sheer made, and the whiter boulders of the up the face of a steep and lofty cliff. shore, were brown with drying nets. There was no road in it, there was no The red-brown cliffs, richly wooded to wheeled vehicle in it, there was not a their extremest verge, had their softened level yard in it. From the sea-beach and beautiful forms reflected in the to the cliff-top two irregular rows of bluest water, under the clear ~North white houses, placed opposite to one Devonshire sky of a November day another, and twisting here and there, without a cloud. The village itself and there and here, rose, like the sides was so steeped in autumnal foliage, from of a long succession of stages of crooked the houses lying on the pier to the topladders, and you climbed up the village most round of the topmost ladder, that or climbed down the village by the one might have fancied -it was out a staves between: some six feet wide or birds'-nesting, and was (as indeed it. so, and made of sharp, irregular stones. was) a wonderful climber. And menThe old pack-saddle, long laid aside in tioning birds, the place was not without most parts of England as one of the some music from them too; for the rook appendages of its infancy, flourished was very busy on the higher levels, and here intact. Strings of pack-horses and the gull with his flapping wings was pack-donkeys toiled slowly up the staves fishing in the bay, and the lusty little of the ladders, bearing fish, and coal, robin was hopping among the great and such other cargo as was unshipping stone blocks and iron rings of the breakat the pier from the dancing fleet of water, fearless in the faith of his ancesvillage boats, and from two or three tors and the Children in the Wood. little coasting traders. As the beasts Thus it came to pass that Captain of burden ascended laden, or descended Jorgan, sitting balancing himself on light, they got so lost at intervals in the the pier-wall, struck his leg with his floating clouds of village smoke, that open hand, as some men do when they they seemed to dive down some of the are pleased-and as he always did when village chimneys and come to the sur- he was pleased-and said, face again far off, high above others. "A mighty sing'lar and pretty place No two houses in the village were alike, it is, as ever I saw in all the days of my in chimney, size, shape, door, window, life 1" gable, roof-tree, any thing. The sides Captain Jorgan had not been through of the ladders were musical with water, the village, but had come down to the running clear and bright. The staves pier by a winding side-road, to have a were musical with the clattering feet of preliminary look at it from the level of (9) 10 A MESSAGE FROM TIlE SEA. his own natural elenlent. He had seen innocent happiness of other people, hal many things and places, and had stowed undoubled himself, and was going to them all away in a shrewd intellect and start a new subject, when, there apa vigorous memory. He was an Ameri- peared coming down the lower ladders can born, was Captain Jorgan —a New of stones, a man whom he hailed as Englander-but he was a citizen of the "Tom Pettifer, HIo!" Tom Pettifer, world, and a combination of most of the Ho, responded with alacrity, and in best qualities of most of its best coun- speedy course descended on the pier. tries. " Afraid of a sun-stroke in England For Captain Jorgan to sit anywhere in November, T'om, that you wear your in his long-skirted blue coat and blue tropical hat, strongly paid outside and trowsers, without holding converse with lpapl)er-linecl inside, here?" said the capevery body within speaking distance, tain, eying it. was a sheer impossibility. So the cap-' It's as well to be on the safe side, tain fell to talling with the fishermen, sir," replied Tom. and to asking them knowing questions " Safe side!" repeated the captain, about the fishery, and the tides, and the laughing. " You'd guard against a currents, and the race of water off that sun-stroke, with that old hat, in an Ice point yonder, and what you kept in your Pack. Wa'al I What have you made eye and got into a line with what else out at the Post-office?" when you ran into the little harbor; and " It is the Post-office, sir," other nautical profuindities. Among the "What's the Post-office?" said the men who exchanged ideas with the cap- captain. tain was a young fellow who exactly hit "The name, sir. The name keeps his fancy-a young fisherlman of two or the Post-office." three-and-twenty, in the rough sea-dress " A coincidence!" said the captain. of his craft, with a brown face, dark " A lucky hit! Show me where it is. curling hair, and bright, modest eyes Good-by, shipmates, for the present! I under his Sou'wester hat, and with a shall come and have another look at frank but simple and retiring manner, you, afore I leave, this afternoonl." which the captain found uncommonly This was addressed to all there, but taking. "I'd bet a thousand dollars," especially the young fishermal; so all said the captain to himself, "that your there acknowledged it, but especially father rwas an honest man!" the young fisherman. "'le's a sailor!" "Might you be married now?'" asked said one to another, as they lookedl tle captain, when lhe had had some talk after the captain moving away. That with this new acquaintance. he was; and so outspeaking was the'Not yet." sailor in himn, that although his dress " Going to be?" said the captain. had nothing nautical about it, with the "I hope so." single exception of its color, but was a The captain's keen glance followed suit of a shore-going shape andr form, the slightest possible turn of the dark too long in the sleeves and too short in eye, and the slightest possible tilt of the legs, and too unlaccommodatingl the Sou'wester hat. The captain then everywhere, terminating earthward in slapped both his legs, and said to himself, a pair of Wellington boots, and sur"Never knew such a good thing in mounted by a tall, stiff hat, which no all my life I There's his sweet-heart mortal could have worn at sea in any looking over the wall!" wind under Heyaven; nevertheless, a There was a very pretty girl looking glimpse of his sagacious, weather-beateln over the wall, from a little platform face, or his strong, brown hand, wonldC of cottage, vine, and fuchsia; and she have established the captain's calling. certainly did not look as if the presence Whereas, IMr. Pettifer-a man of a cerof this young fisherman in the ]andscape tain plump neatness, with a curly rInado it any the less sunny and hopeful whisker, and elaborately nautical in a for her. jacket and shoes and all things corresCaptain Jorgan, having doubled him- pondent-looked no more like a seaself up to laugh with that hearty good- man, beside Captain Jorgan, than he nature which is quite exultant in the looked like a sea-serpent. A MESSAGE FROM TIIE SEA. 11 The two climbed high up the vil- tain, glancing shrewdly at the other lage-which had the most arbitrary gentleman, "you are that nigh right, turns and twists in it, so that the cob- that he goes to sea-if that makes him bler's house came dead acrosstheladder, a sailor. This is my steward, ma'am, and to have held a reasonable course, Tom Pettifer; he's been a'most all you must have gone through his house, trades you could name, in the course of and through him too, as he sat at his his life-would have bought all' your work between two little windows, with chairs and tables, once, if you had one eye microscopically on the geologi- wished to sell'ena-but now he's my cal formation of that part of Devon- steward. MINy name's Jorgan, and I'm shire, and the other telescopically on a ship-owner, and I sail my own and my the open sea-the two climbed high up partners' ships, and have done so this the village, and stopped before a quaint five-and-twenty year. According to little house, on which was painted, custom I am called Captain Jorgan, " MRS. RAYBROCK, DRAPERa;" and also but I am no more a captain, bless your "POST-OFFICE." Before it, ran a rill heart! than you are." of murmuring water, and access to it "Perhaps you'll come into my parwas gained by a little plank-bridge. lor, sir, and take a chair?" said Mis. "Here's the name," said Captain Raybrock. Jorgan, " sure enough. You can come "Ex-actly what I was going to proin if you like, Tom." pose myself, ma'am. After you." The captain opened the door, and Thus replying, and enjoining Tom to passed into an odd little shop, about give an eye to the shop, Captain Jorgan six feet high, with a great variety of followed Mrs. Rtaybrock into the little beams and bumps in the ceiling, and, low back-room —decorated with divers besides the principal window giving on plants in pots, tea-trays, old china teathe ladder of stones, a purblind little pots, and punch-bowls-xwhihll was at window of a single pane of glass: peep- oIlce the private sitting-room of the ing out of an abutting corner at the Raybrock family and the inner cabinet sun-lightedl ocean, and winking at its of the posl-office of the village of Steepbrightness. ways. " How do you do, ma'am?'"~ said the "Now, ma'am," said the captain, "it captain. "I am very glad to see you. don't signify a cent to you nwhere I was I have come a long way to see you." born, except-" But here the shadow " Hcave you, sir? Then I am sure I of some one entering fell upon the capam very glad to see you, though I don't tain's figure, and lie broke off to doulle know you from Adam." himself up, slap both his legs, and ejacuThus a comely elderly woman, short late, " Never knew such a thin g in all of stature, plump of form, sparkling my life I IHere he is again! I-low are and dark of eye, who, perfectly clean you?' and neat herself, stood in the midst of These words referred to the youngher perfectly clean and neat arrange- follow who had so taken Captain Jorments, and surveyed Captain Jorgan gall's fanDcy down at the pier. To make with smiling curiosity. " Alh! but you it all quite complete he came in acconmare a sailor, sir," she added, almost ima- panied by the sweet-heart whom the imediately, and with a slight mnovement captain had detected looking over the of her hands, that was not very unlike wall. A prettier sweet-heart the sun wringinlg them; "then you are heartily could not have shone upon that shining' welcome." day. As she stood before the captain, "11Thanli'ee, ma'am," said the captain. with her rosy lips just parted in sur"I don't know what it is, I am sure, prise, her brown eyes a little wider that brings out the salt in me, but every open than was usual from the same body seerms to see it on thle crown of my cause, and hEr breathing a little quickliat and the collar of my coait. Yes, ened by the ascent (and possibly by ma'anm, I am in that way of life." some mysterious hurry and flurry at the "And the other gentlemen, too," said parlor door, in which the captain had Mrs, Raybrock. observed her face to be for a moment "Well now, ma'am," said the cap- totally eclipsed by the Sou'Wester hat), 12 A MESSAGE FROM TIIE SEA. she looked so charming, that the cap- babies, that I am asking questions for tain felt himself under a moral obliga- question-asking's sake, for I am not. tion to slap both his legs again. She Somebody belonging to you went to was very simply dressed, with no other sea?" ornament than an autumnal flower in "My elder brother, Hugh," returned her bosom. She wore neither hat nor the young man. He said it in an albonnet, but merely a scarf or kerchief, tered and lower voice, and glanced at folded squarely back over the head, to his mother, who raised her hands hurkeep the sun off-according to a fashion riedly, and put them together across that may be sometimes seen in the more her black gown, and looked eagerly at genial parts of England as well as of the visitor. Italy, and which is probably the first "No I For God's sake, don't think fashion of head-dress that came into that I" said the captain, in a solemn the world when grasses and leaves went way; "I bring no good tidings of him." out. There was a silence, and the mother "In my country," said the captain, turned her face to the fire and put her rising to give her his chair, and dex- hand between it and her eyes. The terously sliding it close to another chair young fisherman slightly motioned toon which the young fisherman must ward the window, and thecaptain, looknecessarily establish himself-" in my ing in that direction, saw a young widow, country we should call Devonshire sitting at a neighboring window across beauty first-rate!" a little garden, engaged in needle-work, Whenever a frank manner is offensive, with a young child sleeping on her boit is because it is strained or feigned; som. The silence continued until the for there may be quite as much intoler- captain asked of Alfred: able affectation in plainness as in minc- "How long is it since it happened?" ing nicety. All that the captain said " He shipped for his last voyage bet. and did was honestly according to his ter than three years ago." nature; and his nature was open nature "Ship struck upon some reef or and good nature; therefore, when he rock, as I take it," said the captain, paid this little compliment, and ex- "and all hands lost?" pressed with a sparkle or two of his "Yes "' knowing'eye, " I see how it is, and no- " Wa'al!" said the captain, after a thing could be better," he had estab- shorter silence. "Here I sit who may lished a delicate confidence on that sub- come to the same end, like enonugh. ject with the family. He holds the seas in the hollow of His "I was saying to your worthy mo- hand. We must all strike somewhere ther," said the captain to the young and go down. Our comfort, then, for man, after again introducing himself by ourselves and one another, is, to have name and occupation: "I was saying done our duty. I'd wager your brother to your mother (and you're very like did his I" her) that it didn't signify where I was "He did 1" answered the young born, except that I was raised on ques- fisherman. "If ever man strove faithtion-asking ground, where the babies fully on all occasions to do his duty, my as soon as ever they come into the brother did. My brother was not a world, inquire of their mothers,'Neow, quick man (any thing but that), but lihe how old may you be, and wa'at air you was a faithful, true, and just man. We a goin' to niame me?' —which is a fact." were the sons of only a small tradesman Htere he slapped his leg. " Such being in this county, sir; yet our father -wab thie case, 1 may be excused for asking as watchful of his good name as if he you if your name's Alfred?" had been a king." " Yes, sir, my name is Alfred," re- " A precious sight more so, I hopeturned the young man. bearing in mind the general run of that "I am not a conjuror," pursued the class of crittur," said the captain. captain, "and don't think me so, or I "But I interrupt." shall right soon undeceive you. Like- "My brother considered that our wise don't think, if you please, though father left the good name to us, to I do come from that country of the keep clear and true." A MESSAGE FROMI TIIE SEA. 13 " Your brother considered right," Kitty answered very earnestly. " Oh I said the captain; "and you couldn't Thank you, sir, with all my heart!" take care of a better legacy. But again And, in her loving little way, kissed her I interrupt." hand to him, and possibly by implica"No; for I have nothing more to tion to the young fisherman too, as the say. We know that IIugh lived well latter held the parlor door open for the for the good name, and we feel certain captain to pass out. that he died well for the good name. And now it has come into mny keeping. Alld that's all." "Well spoken!" cried the captain. CHAPTER II. "Well spoken, young nman I Collcerning the ianner of your brother's THE MONEY. death" —by this time the captain had released the hand lie had shaken, and "THE stairs are very narrow, sir," sat with his own broad brown hands said Alfred Raybrock to Captain Jorspread out on his knees, and spoke gan. aside-" concerning the manner of your "Like my cabin-stairs," returned the brother's death, it may be that I have captain, " on many a voyage." some information to give you; though "And they are rather inconvenient it may not be, for I am far from sure. for the head." Canr. we have a little talk alone?" " If my head can't take care of itself rTle young man rose; but not before by this time, after all the knocking the captain's qulick eye lhad noticed that, about the world it has had," replied onl the pretty sweet-heart's turning to the captain, as unconcernedly as if he tile window to greet the youn(g widow had no connection with it, "it's not with a nod and a wave of the hand, the worth looking after." young widow had held up to her the Thus they came into the young fish. needlework on which she was engaged, errman's bed-room, which was as per. with a patient and pleasant smile. So fectly neat and clean as the shop and the captain said, being on his legs: parlor below: though it was but a "What migflht slhe be making now?" little place, with a sliding window, and "What is Margaret making, Kitty?" a phrenological ceiling expressive of asked the young fishernman-with one of all the peculiarities of the house-roof. his arms a pparently mislaid somewhere. Here the calptain sat down onil the froot As Kitty only hlushed in reply, the of the bed, and, glancing at a dreadful captain doubled himself up as far as he libel on Kitty which ornamented the could, standing, and said, with a slap wall-the production of some wanderof his leg: ing limnner, whomn the captain secretly i" n my country we should call it admired, as having studied portraiture wedding-clothes. Fact I We should, from the figure-heads of ships-moI do assure you." tioned to the young man to take the But it seemed to strike the captain rush-chair on the other side of the in another light too; for his laugh was small round table. That done, the not a long one, and he added, in quite captain put his hand in the deep a gentle tone: breast-pocket of his long-skirted blue "And it's very pretty, my dear, to coat, and took out of it a strong see her-poor young thing, with her square case-bottle-not a large bottle, fatherless child upon her bosom-giving but such as may be seen in any ordiup her thoughts to your home and your nary ship's medicine-chest. Setting happiness. It's very pretty, my dear, this bottle on the table without removand it's very good. May your marriage ing his hand from it, Captain Jorgan ble more prosperous than hers, and be a then spake as follows: comfort to her too. May the blessed "In my last voyage homewardsun see you all happy together, in pos- bound," said the captain, " and that's session of the go )d name, longS after I the voyage off of which I now come have done plowing the great salt field straight, I encountered such weather that is never sown i" off the Horn as is not very often met 14 A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. with, even there. I have rounded that "If ever you come-or even, if ever stormy Cape pretty often, and I be- you fon't come-to a desert place, use lieve I first beat about there in the you your eyes and your spy-glass well; identical storms that blew the devil's for the smallest thing you see may horns and tail off, and led to the horns prove of use to you, and may have being workled up into tooth-picks for some information or some warning in the plantation overseers in my country, it. That's the principle on which I who may be seen (if you travel down came to see this bottle. I picked up South, or away WTest, fur enough) the bottle and ran the boat alongside picking their teeth with'em, while the the island and made fast and vwent whips, made of the tail, flog hard. In ashore, armed, with a part of my boat's this last voyage, homeward-bound for crew. We found that every scrap of Liverpool fronm South America, I say vegetation on the island (I give it you to you, my young friend, it blew. as my opinion, but scant and scrulbby Whole mneasures! No half measures, at the best of times) had been connor making believe to blowr; it blew! sumed by fire. As we were lmaking Now I warnl't blown clean out of the our way, cautiously and toilsomely, water into the sky-though I expected over the pulverized embers, ole of my to be even that-but I was blown clean people sank into the eartll, breast hiigh. out of my course; and when at last it I-e turned pale, and' Haul me out fell calm, it fell dead calmi, and a smart, shipmates,' says he,'for Imy feet strong current set one way, clay ancd are among bones.' \A e soon got hiln night, nigh:lt and day, and I drifted- on his legs again, and then we dug up drifted-drifted out of all the ordinary the spot, and we found thlat the man tracks and counses of sl-hips, and drifted was right, and that his feet hadIc been yet, and yet drifted. It behooves a mani among bones. More thanl that, they who takes charge of fellow-crlutturs' were human bones; thouglh whether lives, never to rest from making' him- the remains of one man, oi of two or self master of his eallning. I never did three men, iwhat with calcination and rest, and consequently I knew pretty ashes, and what with a poor practiCal well ('specially looking' over the side knowledge of anatomy, I can't underin the dead calm of that strong cur- take to say. We examinied the whole rent) whart dangers to expect, and what island and made out nothingt elsce, save precaunions to take against'cem. Ini and except that, fromt its opposite side, short, we were cirivilng head on to ai I sighted a considerable tlract of land, island. There was no island in thle which land I was able to identify, and chart, anid, therefore, you may say it according to the bearings of which was ill lualllers in thie island to be (iot to trouble you with lmy lo) I took there; I don't dis)pute its bad breed- a fresh departure. When I got aboard ing, but there it was. Thanks be to again I opened the bottle, wh)ich was Heaven, I was as ready for tIle island oilskin-covered as you see, eand glassas -the island was ready for me. I stoppered as you see. Inside of it," made it out -myself from the mastheacd, pursued the captain, suiting his action and I got enough way upon her in to his words, "I found thli liitle cruim-,good time to keep lier off. I ordered pled folded paper, just as Yon see. a boat to be lowered and mannede, and Outside of it was written, as you see; went in tha.lt boat myself to explore the these words:' TW;hoevcer t','J7 lhi,;, i island. There was a reef outside it, soleCmnlyJ entlreated by the (clcd to co)land, floating in a colrne of the smooth,ey it wtoread to.Alfred Iiayybiochl:, water within the reeI, was a heap of St'cepalcc/as, North, D)vo;l, co iaylCald.' sea-weecl, ad entanol cd il that sea- A sacred lcharge," said the captain, weed was this bottle.' conchluding his narrative,' and, Alfred Here tile captain tool his hand frlom L laybrock, there it is!" the bottle for a momentt, that the "This is my poor brother's \writinmg'' young fisherman mighlt direct a won- "I supJpose so," said Caplt. Joran,a dering glace at it; aild thien replaced I'll take a look out of this little wiin his laland and wIlt on: dow wo I ile you read it." A MESSAGE FROM[ TIIE SEA. 15 " Pray no, sir! I should be hurt. "Did any man ever say she warn't My brother couldn't know it would beautiful?" retorted the captain. "If fall into such hands as yours." so, go and lick him." The captain sat down again on the The young man laughed fretfully in foot of the bed, and the young man spite of himself, and said, " It's not that, opened the folded paper with a trem- it's not that." bling hand, and spread it on the table. "Wa'al, then, what is it?" said the The ragged paper, evidently creased captain, in a more soothing tone. and torn both before and after being The young fisherman mournfully comwritten on, was much blotted and posed himself to tell the captain what stained, and the ink had faded and run, it was, and began: " We were to have and many words were wanting. What been married next Monday weelk-" the captain and the young fisherman " Were to have been!" interrupted made out together, after much re-reading Captain Jorgan. "And are to be? and much humoring of the folds of the Hey?" p.aper, is given on the precedinlg page. Young Raybrock shook his head, and The young fisherman had become traced out with his forefinger the words more and more agitated, as the writing "poor father's five hundred pounds," had become clearer to him. He now in the written paper. left it lying before the captain, over "Go along," said the captain. " Five whose shoulder he had been reading it, hundred pounds? Yes?" and, dropping into his former seat, That sum of money,"' pursued the leaned forwmard on the table and laid young fisherman, entering with the his face in his hands.' greatest earnestness on his demonstra"What, man," urged the captain, tion, while the captain eyed him with " don't give in! e up and doing', like equal earnestness, " was all my late a man!" father possessed. When he died, he I It is selfish, I know-but Cdoing owed no man more than he left means to what, doing what?" cried the young pay, but he had been able to lay by only fishernman, in complete despair, and five hundred pounds.'" stamping his sea-boot on the ground. " Five hundred pounds," repeated' Doing what?" returned the captain. the captain. " Yes?"' Something! I'd go down to the little " In his lifetime, years before, he had breakwater below, yonder, and take a expressly laid the money aside, to leave wrench at one of the salt-rusted iron- to my mother —like to settle upon her, rings there, and either wrench it up by if I make myself understood." the roots or wrench my teeth out of my " Yes?" head, sooner than I'd do nothing. "Hie had risked it once-my father Nothing I" ejaculated the captain. put down in writing at that time, re"Any fool or faint-heart can do that, specting the money-and was resolved and nothing can come of nothing- never to risk it again." which was pretended to be found out, " Not a spec'lator," said the captain. I believe, by one of them Latin critters," " My country wouldn't have suited him. said the captain, with the deepest dis- Yes?" dain; "as if Adam hadn't found it out, " My mother has never touched the afore ever he so much as named the money till now. And now it was to beasts!" have been laid out, this very next week, Yet the captain saw, in spite of his in buying me a handsome share in our bold words, that there was some greater neighboring fishery here, to settle me in reason than he yet understood for the life with Kitty." young man's distress. And he eyed him The captain's face fell, and he passed with a sympathizing curiosity. and repassed his sun-browned right " Cone, come!" continued the cap- hand over his thin hair, in a discomfited tain. " Speak out. What is it, boy!" manner. "You have seen haw beautiful she is, "Kitty's father has no more than sir," said the young man, looking up enough to live on, even in the sparing for the mcment, with a flushed face and way in which we live about here. He rumpled hair. is a kind of bailiff or steward of manor 16 A MESSAGE FROM TIIE SEA, rights here, and they are not much, and Cornishman, and-to be sure! —comes it is but a poor little office. He was from Lanrean." better off once, and Kitty must never " Does he?" said the Captain quietly marry to mere drudgery and hard liv- "As I ain't acquainted with him, whi ing. "' may lhe be?" The captain still sat stroking his thin " iMr. Treoarthen is Kitty's father." hair, and looking at the young fisher- " Ay, ay!" cried the captain. "' Now man. you speak! Tregarthen knows this " I am as certain that my father had village of Lanrean, then?" no knowledge that any one was wronged Beyond all doubt he does. I have as to this money, or that any restitution often heard him mention it, as being his ought to be made, as I am certain that native place. He knows it well." the sun now shines. But, after this sol- " Stop half a Inomernt," said the cap eton warning from my brother's grave in tain. "We want a rame here. Y"ou the sea, that the money is Stolen Mo- could ask Tregarthen (or if you couldn't ney," said Young RIaybrock, forcing I could) what names of old men he rehimself to the utterance of the words, members in his time in those diggings? " can I doubt it? C(an I touch it?" Hey?" " About not doubting, I ain't so sure,"' "I can go straight to his cottage, and observed the captain; "but about ask him now." not touching-no-I don't think you "Take me with you," said the cfpcan." tain, rising in a solid way that had a'See then," said Young Raybrock, most comfortable reliability in it, " anid " why I aim so grieved. Think of Kitty. just a word more first. I have knocked Think what I have got to tell her i" about harder than you, and have got His heart quite failed him again when along further tian you. I have had, he had come round to that, and he once all my sea-going life long, to keep my more beat Ilis sea-boot softly on the wNits polished bright with acid and floor. But not for long; he soon be- friction, like the brass cases of the gan again, in a quietly resolute tone. ship's instruments. I'll keel) you coinH" owever! Enough of that I You pany on this expedition. Now you spoke some brave words to me just now, don't live by talking any more than I Captain Jorgan, and they shall not be do. Clelnch that hand of yours in this spoken in vain. I have got to do some- hand of mine, and that's 9. speech on thing. What I have got to do, before all both sides." other things, is to trace out the meaning Captain Jorgan took command of of this paper, for the sake of the Good the expedition with that hearty shake. Name that has no one else to put it He at once refolded the paper exactly right or keep it right. And still, for as before, replaced it in the bottle, put the sake of the Good Name, and my the stopper in, put the oilskin over the father's memory, not a word of this stopper, confided the whole to Young writing must be breathed to my mother, Raybrock's keeping, and led the way or to Kitty, or to any human creature. down stairs. You agree in this?" But it was harder navigation below "I don't know what they'll think of stairs than above. The instant they us below," said the captain, "but for set foot in the parlor the quick, womanly certain I can't oppose it. Now, as to eye deteoted that there was something tracing. How will you do?" wrong. Kitty exclaimed, frightened, They both, as by consent, bent over as she ran to her lover's side, "Alfred I the paper again, and again carefully What's the matter?" MIrs. Rlaybrock puzzled out the whole of the writing. cried out to the captain, " Gracious 1 " I make out that this would stand, what have you done to my son to change if all the writing was here,'Inquire him like this all in a minute!" And among the old men living there, for'- the young widow-who was there with some one. Most like, you'll go to this her work upon her arm —was at first sc village named here?" said the captain, agitated that she frightened the little musing, with his finger on the name. girl she held in her hand, who hid her "Yes I And Mr. Tregarthen is a face in hei mother's skirts and screamed. A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. 17 The captain, conscious of being held man had never come near us;" whereresponsible for this domestic change, upon the captain laid hold of himself contemplated it with quite a guilty ex- the tighter; " but I take your part,'for pression of countenance, and looked to all that. I am sure you have some the young fisherman to come to his strong reason and some sufficient rearescue. son for what you do, strange as it is, "Kitty, darling," said Young Ray- and even for not saying why you do it, brock, " Kitty, dearest love, I must go strange as that is. And, Kitty darling, away to Lanrean, and I don't know you are bound to think so, more than where else or how much further, this any one, for true love believes every very day. Worse than that-our mar- thing, and bears every thing, and trusts riage, Kitty, must be put off, and I every thing. And mother dear, you don't know for how long." are bound to think so too, for you know Kitty stared at him, in doubt and you have been blest with good sons, wonder and in anger, and pushed him whose word was always as good as from her with her hand. their oath, and who were brought up "Put off?" cried Mrs. Raybrock. in as true a sense of honor as any gen"The marriage put off? And you tleman in this land. And I am sure going to Lanrean! Why, in the name you have no more call, mother, to doubt of the dear Lord?" your living son than to doubt your "Mother dear, I can't say why; I dead son; and for the sake of the dear must not say why. It would be dis- dead, I stand up for the dear living." honorable and undutiful to say why." " Wa'al now," the captain struck in, "Dishonorable and undutiful?" re- with enthusiasm, "this I say, That turned the dame. "And is there no- whether your opinions flatter me or not, thing, dishonorable or undutiful in the you are a young woman of sense, and boy's breaking the heart of his own spirit, and feeling; and I'd sooner have plighted love, and his mother's heart you by my side, in thehourofdanger, than too, for the sake of the dark secrets and a good half of the men I've ever fallen counsels of a wicked stranger? Why in with-or fallen out with, ayther." did you ever come here?" she apostro- Margaret did not return the captain's phized the innocent captain. "Who compliment, or appear fully to reciprowanted you? Where did you come cate his good opinion, but she applied from? Why couldn't you rest in your herself to the consolation of Kitty, and own bad place, wherever it is, instead of Kitty's mother-in-law that was to have of disturbing the peace of quiet un- been next Monday week, and soon reoffending folk like us?" stored the parlor to a quiet condition. "And what," sobbed the poor little "Kitty, my darling," said the young Kitty, "have I ever done to you, you fisherman, " I must go to your father to hard and cruel captain, that you should entreat him still to trust me in spite of come and serve me so?" this wretched change and mystery, and And then they both began to weep to ask him for some directions concernmost pitifully, while the captain could ing Lanrean. Will you come home? only look from the one to the other, and Will you come with me, Kitty?" lay hold of himself by the coat collar. Kitty answered not a word, but rose "Margaret," said the poor young sobbing, with the end of her simple fisherman, on his knees at Kitty's feet, head-dress at her eyes. Captain Jorwhile Kitty kept both her hands before gan followed the lovers out, quite sheepher tearful face, to shut out the traitor ishly: pausing in the shop to give an from her view-but kept her fingers instruction to Mr. Pettifer. wide asunder, and looked at himn all the "Here, Tom I" said the captain, in a time: "Margaret, you have suffered so low voice. "Here's something in your much, so uncomplainingly, and are line. Here's an old lady poorly and always so careful and considerate 1 Do low in her spirits. Cheer her up a bit, take my part for poor Hugh's sake I" Tom. Cheer'em all up." The quiet Margaret was not appealed Mr. Pettifer, with a brisk nod of into in vain. "I will, Alfred," she re- telligence, immediately assumed his turned, "and I do. I wist this gentle- steward face, and went with his quiet 18 A MESSAGE FROMT THE SEA. helpful steward step into the parlor, ral opinion in these parts. But don' where the captain had the great satisfac- be hasty; you may think better of mi tifn of seeing him, through the glass by-and-by." door, take the child in his arms (who "I hope so," observed Tregarthen. offered no objection), and bend over " Wa'al, I hope so," observed thi Mrs. Raybrock, administering soft words captain, quite at his ease; " more thal of consolation. that, I believe so-though you don't "Though what he finds to say, unless Now, Mr. Tregarthen. you don't wani he's telling her that t'll soon be over, to exchange words of mistrust with me or that most people is so at first, or and if you did, you couldn't, because ] that it'll do her good afterward, I can- wouldn't. You and I are old enough tz not imaginate I" was the captain's re- know better than to judge against ex. flection as he followed the lovers. perience from surfaces and appearances He had not far to follow them, since and if you haven't lived to find out the it was but a short descent down the evil and injustice of such judgments, stony ways to the cottage of Kitty's fa- you are a lucky man." ther. But, short as the distance was, The other seemed to shrink under it was long enough to enable the cap- this remark, and replied, "Sir, I have tain to observe that he was fast becom- lived to feel it deeply." ing the village Ogre; for there was not " Wa'al," said the captain, mollified, a woman standing working at her door, " then I've made a good cast without or a fisherman coining up or going down, knowing it. Now, Tregarthen, there who saw Young Raybrock unhappy and stands the lover of your only child, and little Kitty in tears, but she or he in- "here stand I who know his secret. I stantly darted a -suspicious and indig- warrant it a righteous secret, and none nant glance at the captain, as the for- of his making, though bound to be of eigner who must somehow be responsi- his keeping. I want to help him out ble for this unusual spectacle. Conse- with it, and tewwards that end we ask,quently, when they came into Tregar- you to favor us with the names of two then's little garden-which formed the or three old residents in the village of platform from which the captain had Lanrean. As I am taking out my seen Kitty peeping over the wall-the pocket-book and pencil to put the captain brought to, and stood off and names down, I may as well observe to you on at the gate, while Kitty hurried to that this, wrote atop of the first page hide her tears in her own room, and Al- here, is my name and address:' Silas fred spoke with her father, who was Jonas Jorgan, Salem, Massachusetts, working in the garden. He was a ra- United States.' If ever you take it in ther infirm man, but could scarcely be your head to run over any morning, I called old yet, with an agreeable face shall be glad to welcome you. Now, and a promising air of making the best what may be the spelling of these said of things. The conversation began on names?" his side with great cheerfulness and "There was an elderly man," said good humor, but soon became distrust- Tregarthen, " named David Polreath. ful, and soon angry. That was the cap- He may be dead." tain's cue for striking both into the con- "Wa'al," said the captain, cheerversation and the garden. fully, "if Polreath's dead and buried, "Morning, sir I" said Captain Jor- and can be made of any service to us, gan. "How do you do?", Polreath won't object to our digging "The gentleman I am going away of him up. Polreath's down, any how." with," said the young fisherman to Tre- " There was another named Penregarthen. wen. I don't know his Christian " Oh I" returned Kitty's father, sur- name." veying the unfortunate captain with a " Never mind his Chris'en name," look of extreme disfavor. "I confess said the captain. "Penrewen for that I can't say I am glad to see short." you." "There was another named John "No," said the captain, "and, to ad- Tredgear." mit the truth, that seems to be the gene- "And a pleasant-sounding name, A MESSAGE FROM TIlE SEA. 19 too," said the captain; " John Tred- " Neverklnew such a right thing in all gear's booked." my life!" —and ran away. "I can recall no other except old The cause of this abrupt retirethent Parvis." on the part of the captain was little "One of old Parvis's fam'ly, I reck- Kitty among the trees. The captain on," said the captain, "kept a dry- went out of sight and waited, and goods store in New York city, and kept out of sight and waited, until it realized a hanidsome competency by occurred to him to beguile the time burning his house to ashes. Same name, with another cigar. He lighted it, any how. David Polreath, Unchris'er_ and smoked it out, and still he was out I'enrewen, John Tredgear, and old Ar- of sight and waiting. Hle stole within son Parvis."' sight at last, and saw the lovers, with " I can not recall any others at the their arms entwined and their bent moment." heads touching, moving slowly among Tlhank'ee, " said the captain. " And the trees. It was the golden time of so, Tregarthen, hoping for your good the afternoon then, and the captain opinion yet, and likewise for the fair said to himself, " Golden sun, golden Devonshire Flower's, your daughter's, sea, golden sails, golden leaves, golden I give you my hand, sir, and wish you love, golden youth,-a golden state of good-day." things altogether!" Young Raybrock accompanied him Nevertheless the captain found it nedisconsolately; for there was no Kitty cessary to hail his young companion at the window when he looked up, no before going out of sight again. In a Kitty in the garden when he shut the few moments more he came up, and gate, no Kitty gazing after them along they began their journey. the stony ways when they begin to "That still young woman with the climb back. fatherless child," said Captain Jorgan, " Now I tell you what," said the as they fell into step, "didn't throw captain. " Not being at present cal- her words away; but good honest clated to prcmote harmony in your words are never thrown away. And family, I won't come in. You go and now that I am conveying you off from get your dinner at home, and I'll get that tender little thing that loves and mine at the little hotel. Let our hour relies and hopes, I feel just as if I was of meeting be two o'clock, and you'll the snarling crittur in the picters, with find me smoking a cigar in the sun the tight legs, the long nose, and the feaafore the hotel doo', Tell Tom Pet- ther in his cap, the tips of whose mustifer, my steward, to consider himself taches get up nearer to his eyes the on duty, and to look after your people wickeder he gets."'k till we come back; you'll find he'll have The young fisherman knew, nothing made himself useful to'em already, and of Mephistopheles; but he smiled will be quite acceptable." when the captain stopped to double All was done as Captain Jorgan di- himself up and slap his leg, and they rected. Punctually at two o'clock the went along in right good-fellowship. young fisherman appeared with his knapsack at his back; and punctually at two o'clock the captain jerked away the last feather-end of his cigar. CHAPTER III. "Let me carry ypur baggage, Captain Jorgan; I can easily take it with THE CLUB-NIGHT. rmine. " "Thaik'ee,' " said the captain. "I'll A CoRNISH MOOR, when the east carry it myself. It's only a comb." wind drives over it, is as cold and They climbed out of the village, and rugged a scene as a traveler is likely paused among the trees and ferni on to find in a year's travel. A Cornish the summit of the hill above, to take Moor, in the dark, is as black a solibreath and to look down at the beauti- tude as the traveler is likely to wish ful sea. Suddenly the captain gave himself well out of in the course of a his leg a resounding slap, and cried, life's wanderings. A Cornish Moor, 20 A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. in a night fog, is a wilderness where in the landscape; during long inter. the traveler needs to know his way vals, the bitter wind, howling and tearwell, or the chances are very strong ing at them like a fierce wild monster, that his life and his wanderings will had them all to itself. soon perplex him no more. "A sing'lar thing it is," said the capCaptain Jorgan and the young fish- tain, looking round at the brown desert erman had faced the east and the of rank grass and poor moss, "how like southeast winds from the first rising of this airth is to the men that live upon the sun after their departure from the it! Here's a spot of country rich with village of Steepways. Thrice had the hidden metals, and it puts on the worst sun risen, and still all day long had rags of clothes possible, and crouches the sharp wind blown at them like and shivers and makes believe to be so some malevolent spirit bent on forcing poor that it can't so mruch as afford a them back. But Captain Jordan was feed for a beast. Just like a human too familiar with all. the winds that miser, ain't it?" blow, and too much accustomed to cir- "But they find the miser out," recumvent their slightest weaknesses, turned the young fisherman, pointing to and get the better of them in the long where the earth by the water-courses run, to be beaten by any member of the and along the valleys was turned up, airy family. Taking the year round, for miles, in trying for metal. it was his opinion that it mattered little "Ay, they find him out," said the what wind blew, or how hard it blew; captain; "but he makes a struggle of so he was as indifferent to the wind on it even then, and holds back all he can. this occasion as a man could be who He's a'cute'un." frequently observed "that it fresh- The gloom of evening was already ened him up," and who regarded it in gathering on the dreary scene, and they the light of an old acquaintance. One were, at the shortest and best, a dozen might have supposed, from his way, miles from their destination. But the that there was even a kind of fraternal captain, in his long-skirted blue coat understanding between Captain Jorgan and his boots and his hat and his square and the wind, as between two professed shirt-collar, and without any extra defighters often opposed to one another. fense against the weather, walked coolly The young fisherman, for his part, was along with his hands in his pockets, as accustomed within his narrower limits if he lived under-ground somewhere to hold hard weather cheap, and had hard by, and had just come up to show his anxious object before him; so the his friend the road. wind went by him, too, little heeded, " I'd have liked to have had a look and went upon its Way to kiss Kitty. at this place, too," said the captain, Their varied course had lain by the " when there was a monstrous sweep of side of the sea, where the brown rocks water rolling over it, dragging the powcleft it into fountains of spray, and in- erful great stones along and piling'em land where once barren moors were atop of one another, and depositing the reclaimed and cultivated, and by lonely foundations for all manner of supervillages of poor-enough cabins with stitions. Bless you! I the. old priests, mud walls, and by a town or two with smart mechanical critturs as they were, an old church and a market-place. never piled up many of these stones. But, always traveling through a sparely Water's the lever that moved'emn. inhabited country and over a broad ex- W hen you see'em thick and blunt tewpanse, they had come at last upon the wards one point of the compass, and true Cornish Moor within reach of fined away thin tewwards the opposite Lanrean. None but gaunt spectres of point, you may be as good as moral miners passed them here, with metallic sure that the name of the ancient Druid masks of faces, ghastly with dust of that fixed'em was Water." copper and tin; anon, solitary works The captain referred to some great on remote hill-tops, and bare machi- blocks of stone presenting this characnery of torturing wheels and cogs and teristic, which were wonderfully balchains, writhing up hill-sides, were the anced and heaped on one another, on a few scattered hints of human presence desolate hill. Looking back at these, A MESSAGE FROM THlE SEA. 21 as they stood out against the lurid glare without a share in the fishery, to estabof the west, just then expiring, they lish a home for her, and to relieve his were not unlike enormous antediluvian honest heart by dwelling on its anxbirds, that had perched there on crags ieties. and peaks, and had been petrified there. Meanwhile it fell very dark, and the "But it's an interesting country," fog became dense, though the wind said the captain, " —fact! It's old in howled at them and bit them as savagethe annals of that said old Arch-Druid, ly as ever. The captain had carefully Water, and it's old in the annals of the taken the bearings of Laurean from the said old parson-critturs too. It's a map, and carried his pocket-compass mighty interesting filing to set your with him' the young fisherman, too, boot (as I did this day) on a rough, possessed that kind of cultivated inhoney-comnbed old stone, with just no- stinct for shaping a course which is thing you can name but weather visible often found among men of such purupon it which the scholars that go suits. But although they held a true about with hammers, chipping pieces course in the main, and corrected it off the universal airth, find to be an in- when they lost the road by aid of the scription entreatinos prayers for the soul compass and a light obtained with great of some for-ages-bust-up crittur of a difficulty in the roomy depths of the governor that over-taxed a people never captain's hat, they could not help losing heard of." HIere the captain stopped to the road often. On such occasions they slap his leg. " It's a mighty interesting would become involved in the difficult thing to come upon a score or two of ground of the spongy moor, and, after stories set up on end in a desert-some making a laborious loop, would emerge short, some tall, some leaning here, some upon the road at some point they had leaning there, and to know that they passed before they left it, and thus were pop'larly supposed-and may be would have a good deal of work to do still-to be a group of Cornislh men that twice over. But the young fisherman got changed into that geological forma- was not easily lost, and the captain (and tion for playing a gaime upon a Sunday. his comb) would probably have turned They wouldn't have it in my country, I up, with perfect coolness and self-posreckon, even if they could get it-but session, at any appointed spot on the it's very interesting."' surface of this globe. Consequently, In this the captain, though it amused they were no more than retarded in him, was quite siicere.' Quite as sin- their progress to Lanrean, and arrived cere as whllen lie added, after looking in that small place at nine o'clock. By well about him: "That fog-bank coming that time the captain's hat had fallen up as the sun goes down, will spread, back over his ears, and rested on the,ied we shall have to feel our way into nape of his neck; but he still had his Lanrean full as much as see it." hands in his pockets, and showed no All the way along the young fisher- other sign of dilapidation. man had spoken at times to the captain They had almost run against a low of his interrupted hopes;' and of the stone house with red-curtained windows, family good name, and of the restitution before they knew they had hit upon the that must be made, and of the cherished little hotel, the King Arthur's Armns. plans of his heart, so near attainment, They could just descry through the which must be set aside for it. In his mist, on the opposite side of the narsimple faith and honor, he seemed in- row road, other low stone buildings capable of entertaining the idea that it which were its outhouses and stables; was within the bounds of possibility to and somewhere overhead its invisible evade the doing of what their inquiries sign was being wrathfully swung by the should establish to be right. This was wind. very agreeable to Captain Jorgan, and " Now, wait a bit," said the captain. won his genuine admiration. Where- "They might be full here, or they might fore he now turned the discourse back offer us cold quarters. Consequently, into that channel, and encouraged his the policy is to take an observation, companion to talk of Kitty, and to cal- and, when we've found the warmest culate how many years it would take room, walk right slap into it." 2 22 A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. The warmest room was evidently that coming along, if we could only light from which fire and candle streamed upon a Club?" reddest,' and brightest, and from which The captain's doubling himself up the sound of voices engaged in some and slapping his leg finished the chairdiscussion came out into the night. man. He had been softening toward Captain Jorgan having established the the captain from the first, and he melted. bearings of this room, merely said to "Gentlemen King Arthurs," said he, his young friend, " Follow me!" and rising, "though it is not the custom to was in it be'fore King Arthur's Arms admit strangers, still, as we have brokea had any notion that they infolded a the rule once to-night, I will exert my stranger. authority and break it again. And "Order, order, order I" cried several while the supper of these travelers is voices, as the captain, with his hat cooking;" here his eye fell on the landunder his arm, stood within the door he lord, who discreetly took the hint and had opened. withdrew to see about it; "I will re" Gentlemen," said the captain, ad- call you to the subject of the sea-faring vancing, "I am much beholden to you man." for the opportunity you give me of ad- " D'ye hear!" said the captain, aside dressing you; but will not detain you to the young fisherman; "that's in our with any lengthened observations. I way. Who's the sea-faring man, I have the honor to be a cousin of yours wonder?" on the Uncle Sam side; this young "I see several old men here," refriend of mine is a nearer relation of turned the young fisherman, eagerly, yours on the Devonshire side; we are for his thoughts were always on his obboth pretty nigh used up, and much in ject. "Perhaps one or more of the want of supper. I thank you for your old men whose names you wrote down welcome, and I am proud to take you by in your book may be here." the hand, sir, and I hope I see you well." " Perhaps," said the captain; I've These last words were addressed to a got my eye on'em. But don't force it. jolly-looking chairman, with a wooden Try if it won't come nat'ral." hammer near him; which, but for the Thus the two, behind their hands, captain's friendly grasp, he would have while they sat warming them at the fire. taken up and hammered the table with. Simultaneously, the Club beginning to " How do you do, sir?" said the be at its ease again, and resuming the captain, shaking this chairman's hand discussion of the sea-faring man, the with the greatest heartiness, while his captain winked to his fellow-traveler to new friend ineffectually eyed his hammer let him attend to it. of office; "when yQu come to my coun- As it was a kind of conversation not try, I shall be proud to return your altogether unprecedented in such aswelcome, sir, and that of this good semblages, where most of those who company." spoke at all spoke all at once, and The captain now took his seat near where half of those could put no beginthe fire, and invited his companion to ning to what they had to say, and the do the like-whom he congyratulated other half could put no end, the tenaloud, on their having "fallen on their dency of the debate was discursive, and feet." not very intelligible. All the captain The company, who might be about a had made out, down to the time when dozen in number, were at a loss what the separate little table laid for two was to make of, or do with, the captain. covered with a smoking broiled fowl But one little old man in long flapping and rashers of bacon, reduxced itself to shirt collars: who, with only his face these heads. That, a sea-faring man and them visible through a cloud of to- had arrived at the King Arthur's Arms, bacco smoke, looked like a superan- benighted, an hour or so earlier in the nuated Cherubim: said sharply, evening. That, the Gentlemen King "This is a Club." Arthurs had admitted him, though all "This is a Club," the captain re- unknown, into the sanctuary of their peated to his young friend. "Wa'al Club. That, they had invited him to now, that's curious! Didn't I say, make his footing good by telling a A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. 23 story. That, he had, after some press- has the honor to be, has gratified you; infr, begun a story of adventure and and as the sea-faring man overhead has shipwreck;, at an interesting point of not gratified you; I start you fresh, by which he had suddenly broke off, and spinning the teetotum attached to my positively refused to finish. That, he office, and calling on the gentlemen it had thereupon taken up a candlestick, falls to to speak up when his name is and gone to bed, and was now the sole declared." occupant of a double-bedded room up The captain and his young friend stairs. -The question raised on these looked hard at the teetotum as it whirled premises appeared to be, whether the rapidly, and harder still when it gradusea-faring man was not in a state of ally became intoxicated and began to contumacy and contempt, and ought stagger about the table in an ill-connot to be formally voted and declared ducted and disorderly manner. Finally in that condition. This deliberation it came into collision with a candlestick, involved the difficulty (suggested by and leaped against the pipe of the old the more jocose and irreverent of the gentleman with the flapping shirt colGentlemen King Arthurs) that it might lars. Thereupon the chairman struck make no sort of difference to the sea- the table once with his hammer and said: faring man whether he was so voted " Mr. Parvis I" and declared, or lnot. "D'ye hear that?", whispered the Captain Jorgan and the young fish- captain, greatly excited, to the young erman ate their supper and drank their fisherman. "I'd have laid you a thoubeer, and their knives and forks had sand dollars a good half-hour ago, that ceased to rattle and their glasses had that old cherubim in the clouds was ceased to clink, and still the discussion Arson Parvis!" showed no symptoms of coming to any The respectable personage in que.conclusion. But when they had left tion, after turning up one eye to assist their little supper-table and had re- his memory —at which time he bore a turned to their seats by the fire, the very strikinc resemblance indeed to the Chairman hammered himself into atten- conventional representations of his race tion, and tlhus outspake:, as executed in oil by various ancient "Gentlemen King Arthurs; when masters-commenced a narrative, of the night is so bad without, harmony which the interest centred in a waistcoat. should prevail within. When the moor It appeared that the waistcoat was a is so windy, cold, and bleak, this room yellow waistcoat with a green stripe, should be cheerful, convivial, and en- white sleeves, and a plain brass button. tertaining. Gentlemen, at present it is It also appeared that the waistcoat was neither the one, nor yet the other, nor made to order, by Nicholas Pendold of yet the other. Gentlemen King Arthurs, Penzance, who was thrown off the top I recall you to yourselves. Gentlemen of a four-horse coach coming down the King Arthurs, what are you? You are hill on the Plymouth road, and, pitchinhabitants-old inhabitants-of the no- ing on his head where he was not sensible village of Lanrean. You are in coun- tive, lived two-and-thirty years aftercil assembled. You are a monthly Club ward, and considered himself the better through all the winter months, and they for the accident-roused up, as it might are many. It is your perroud perrivi- be. It further appeared that the waistlege, on a new member's entrance, or coat belonged to Mr. Parvis's father, on a member's birthday, to call upon and had once attended him, in company that member to make good his footing with a pair of gaiters, to the annual by relating to you some transaction or feast of miners at St. Just; where the adventure in his life, or in the life of a extraordinary circumstances which ever relation, or in the life of a friend, and afterward rendered it a waistcoat famous then depute me as your representative in story had occurred. But the celeto spin a teetotumrn to pass it round. brity ofthewaistcoat was not thoroughly Gentlemen King Arthurs, your perroud accounted for by Mr. Parvis, and had perrivileges shall not suffer in my keep- to be to some extent taken on trust by ing. N —no I Therefore, as the mem- the company, in consequence of that ber whose h!rthday the present occasion genliemafa s entirely iorgetting all about doIVJ)~)Olr~~~ 24 A MESSAGE FROMI THE SEA. the extraordinary circumstance that had other crittur. Don't interrupt him, handed it down to fame. Indeed, he Hear himn out." was even unable, on a gentle cross-ex- The chairman with all due formality amination instituted for the assistance spun the teetotum, and it reeled into of his memory, to inform the Gentlemen the brandy-and-water of a strong brown King Arthurs whether it was a circum- man of sixty or so; John Tredgear; stance of a natural or a supernatural the manager of a neighboring mine. character. Having thus responded to ile immediately began as follows, with a the teetotenm, Mr. Parvis, after looking plain business-like air that gradually out from his clouds as if he would like warmed as he proceeded: to see the man who would beat that, "It happened that at one period of subsided into himself. my life the path of my destiny (not a The fraternity were plunged into a tin path then) lay along the highways blank condition by Mr. Parvis's success, and byways of France, and that I had and the chairman wavs about to try an- occasion to make frequent stoppages at other spin, when young Raybrock- common French roadside cabarets —that whom Captain Jorgan had with diffi- kind of tavern which has a very bad culty restrained-rose, and said might name in French books and French he ask Mr. Parvis a question. plays. I had engaged myself in an unThe Gentlemen King Arthurs hold- dertakingc which rendered such journeys ing, with loud cries of "Order I" that he necessary. A very old friend of mine might not, he asked the question as soon had recently established himself at Paris as he could possibly make himself heard. in a wholesale commercial enterprise, Did the forgotten circumstance relate into the nature cf which it is not necesin any way to money? To a sum of sary for our present purpose to enter. money, such as five hundred pounds? He had proposed to me a certain share To money supposed by its possessor to in the undertaking, and one of tilhe dube honestly come by, but in reality ill- ties of my post was to involve occasional gotten and stolen? journeys among the smaller towns and A general surprise seized upon the villages of France, with the view of esclub when this remarkable inquiry was tablishing agencies and opening coilnpreferred; which would have become nections. My friend had applied to ma resentment but for the captain's inter- to undertake this function, rather than position. to a natile, feeling that he could trust "Strange as it sounds," said he, " and me better than a strangrea. He knew suspicious as it sounds, I pledge myself, also that, in consequence of my having gentlemen, that my young friend here been lhalf of my life at school in France, has a manly stand-up Cornish reason for my knowledge of the language would be his words. Also, I pledge myself that sufficient for every purpose that could they are inoffensive words. He and I be required. are searching for information on a sub- I accepted my friend's proposal, and ject which those words generally de- entered with such energy as I could scribe. Such information we may get command upon my new mode of life. from the honestest and best of men- Sometimes my journeyings fiom place may get, or not get, here or anywhere to place were accomplished by means about here. I hope the Honorable of the railroad, or other public conveyMr. Arson-I ask his pardon —Parvis ance; but there were other occasions, -will not object to quiet my young and these last I liked the best, when it triend's mind by saying Yes or No." was necessary I should go to out-ofAfter some time, the obtuse Mr. Par- the-way places, and by such cross-roads vis was with great trouble and difficulty as rendered it more convenient for me induced to roar out "]No I" For which to travel with a carriage and horse of concession the captain rose %nd thanked my own. MIy carriage was a kind of him. phaeton without a coach-box, with a " Now, listen to the next," whispered leather hood that would put up and the captain to the young fisherman. down; and there was plenty of room " There may be more in him than in the at the back for such specimens or sm A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. 25 ples of goods as it was necessary that their leaves in abundance all across the I should carry with me. For my horse road, so that my mare's footsteps had -it was absolutely indispensable that quite a muffled sound as she trampled it should be an animal of some value, them under her hoofs. Widely-extended as no horse but a very good one would flats spread out on either side till the be capable of performing the long view was lost in an inconceivably melancourses, day after day, which my mode choly scene, and the road itself was so of traveling rendered necessary. He perfectly straight, that you could see cost me two thousand francs, and was something like ten miles of it diminishany thing but dear at the price. ing to a point in front of you, while a Many were the journeys we per- similar view was visible through the formed together over the broad acres little window at the back of the carof beautiful France. Many were the riage. hotels, many the auberges, many the In the hurry of the morning's debad dinners, many the damp beds, and parture, I had omitted to inquire, as I many the fleas which I encountered en generally did in traveling an unknown route. Many were the dull old forti- road, at what village it would be best fied towns over whlose draw-bridges I for me to stop, about noon, to bait, and rolled; many the still more dull old what was the name of the most respecttowns without fortifications and with- able house of public entertainment in out draw-bridges, at which my avoca- my way; so that when I arrived, betions made it necessary for me to halt. tween twelve and one o'clock, at a cerI don't know how it was that on the tain place where four roads met, and morning when I was to start from the when, at one of the corners formed by town of Doulaise, with the intention their union, I saw a great bare-looking of sleeping at Francy-le-Grand, I was inn, with the sign of the Tteo Noire an hour later in commencing my jour- swinging in front, I had nothing for it ney than I ought to have been. I but to put up there, without knowing have said I don't know how it was, but any thing of the character of the house. this is scarcely true. I do know how The look of the place did not please it was. It was because on that morn- me. Itwas a great, bare, uninhabiteding, to use a popular expression, every looking house, which seemed much thing went wrong. So it was an hour larger than was necessary, and prelater than it ought to have been, Gen- sented a black and dirty appearance, tlemen, when I drew up the sheep-skin which, considering the distance from lining of my carriage apron over my any town, it was difficult to account legs, and, establishing my little dog for. All the doors and all the wincomfortably on the seat beside me, set dows were shut; there was no sign of off on my journey. In all my expedi- any living creature about the place; tions I was accompanied by a favorite and niched into the wall above the terrier of mine, which I had brought principal entrance was a grim and with me from England. I never tra- ghastly-looking life-size figure of a veled without her, and found her a com- Saint. For a moment I hesitated panion. whether I should turn into the open It was a miserable day in the month gates of the stable-yard, or go further of October. A perfectly gray sky, in search of some more attractive haltwith white gleams about the horizon, ing-place. But my mare was tired, I gave unmistakable evidence that the was more than half-way on my road, small drizzle which was falling would and this would be the best division of continue for four-and-twenty hours at the journey. Besides, Gentlemen, why least. It was cold and cheerless weather, not put up here? If I was only going and on the deserted road I was pursu- to stop at such places of entertainment ing there was scarcely a human being as completely satisfied me, externally as (unless it was an occasional cantonnier, well as internally, I had better give up or road-mender) to break the solitude. traveling altogether. A deserted way indeed, with poplars There were no more signs of life in on each side of it, which had turned the interior of the yard than were preyellow in the autumn, and had shed sented by. the external aspect of the 26 A MESSAGE FROM THE SEXL, house as it fronted the road. Every gleamed upon their surface, vailing their thing seemed shut up. All the stables real hue, and imparting to them a tiger and out-houses were characterized by ish lustre. The moment when I reclosed doors, without so much as a marked this, by-the-by, was when the straw clinging to their thresholds to in- organs I have been describing were Ncate that these buildings were some- fixed upon the very large gold ring ~Hes put to a practical use. I saw no which I had not ceased to wear when I manure strewed about the place, and adopted my adventurous life, and which no living creature: no pigs, no ducks, you may see upon my finger now. no fowls. It was perfectly still and There were two other things about this quiet, and as it was one of those days man that struck me. These were, a when a fine small rain descends quite bald red projecting lump of flesh at the straight, without a breath of air to back of his head, and a deep scar, drive it one way or the other, the si- which a scrap of frouzy whisker on his lence was complete and distressing. I chek wholly declined to conceal. gave a loud shout, and began undoing "A nasty day for a journey of pleasthe harness while my summons was ure," said the landlord, looking at me taking effect. with a satirical smile. The first person whom the sound of " Perhaps it is not a journey of pleasmy voice appeared to have reached was ure," I answered, dryly. a small but precocious boy, who opened "We have few such travelers on the a door in the back of the house, and road now," said the evil-faced man. descending the flight of steps which led "The railroads make the country a to it, approached to aid me in my task. desert, and the roads are as wild as I was just undoing the final buckle on they were three hundred years ago." my,.. of the harness, when, happen- "They are well enough," I answered ing to turn round, I discovered, stand- carelessly, "for those who are obliged ing close behind me, a personage who to travel by them. Nobody else, I had approached so quietly that it would should think, would be likely to make have been a confusing thing to find himn use of them." so near, even if there had been nothing "Will you come into the house?" in his appearance which was calculated said the landlord, abruptly, looking to startle one. He was the most ill- me full in the face., looking man, Gentlemen, that it was I never felt a stronger repugnance:ever my fortune to behold. Nearer than I entertained toward the idea of fifty than any other age I could give entering this man's doors. Yet what him, his dry, spare nature had kept him other course was open to me.? lMy as light and active as a restless boy. mare was already half through the first An absence of flesh, however, was not installment of her oats, so there was no the only want I felt to exist in the per- more excuse for remaining in the stable. sonal appearance of the landlord of the To take a walk in the drenching rain Tete Noire. There was a much more was out of the question, and to remain serious defect in him than this. A sitting in my caleche would have been want; of any hint of mercy, or con- a worse indication of suspicion and science, or any accessible approach to mistrust. Besides, I had had nothing the better side (if there was a better since the morning's coffee, and I wantred side) of the man's nature. When first I something to eat and drink. There looked at his eyes, as he stood behind was nothing to be done, then, but to me in the open court, and as they accept my ill-looking friend's offer. rapidly glanced over the comely points He led the way up the flight of steps of my horse, and thence to the pack- which gave access to the interior of the ages inside my carriage, and the port- building. manteau strapped on in front of it-at The room in which I found mysel' that time the color of his eyes appeared on passing through the door at the top to me to be of an almost orange tinge; of these steps, was one of those rooms but when, a minute afterward, we stood which an excess of light not only fails together in the dark stable, I noted to enliven, but seems even to invest that a kind of blue phosphorescence with an additional degree of g&oom. A MESSAGE FROM TIIE SEA. 27 There is sometimes this character about traveler? And what do yoa thiuLk of light, and I have seen before now a his eyes, Nelly? And what do you work-house ward, and a barren school- think of the back of his head, my dog? room, which have owed a good share What do you think he's about now, eh? of their melancholy to an immoderate What mischief do you think he's hatchamount of cold gray daylight. This ing? Don't you wish you were sitting room, then, into which I was shown, by my side in the caliche, and that we was one of those which, on a wet day, were out on the free road again?" seemed several degrees lighter than the To all these questions and remarks open air. Of course it could not be my little companion responded very inreally lighter than the thing that lit it, telligibly by faint thumpings of the but it seemed so. It also appeared ground with her tail, and by certain larger than the whole out-door world; flutterings of her ears, which, from long and this, certainly, could not be, ekher, habits of intercourse, I understood very but seemed so. Vast as it was, there well to mean that whatever my opinion appeared through two glass-doors in might be she coincided in it. one of the walls another apartment of I had ordered an omelet and some similar dimensions. It was not a square wine when I first entered the house, room, nor an oblong room, but was and as I now sat waiting for it, I obVsmaller at one end than at the other; a served that my landlord would every phenomenon which, as you have, very now and then leave what he was about likely observed, Gentlemen, has always in the other room-where I concluded an unpleasant effect. The billiard- that he was engaged preparing my table, which stood in the middle of the meal-and would come and peer at me apartment, though really of the usual furtively through the glass-doors which size, looked quite a trifling piece of connected the room I was in with that furniture; and as to the other tables, in which he was. Once, too, I heard which were planted sparingly here and him go out, and I felt sure that he had there for purposes of refreshment, they retired to the stables, to examine more were quite lost in the immensity of minutely the value of my horse and carsprce about them. A cupboard, a rack riage. of billiard cues, a marking-board, and a I took it into my head that my landprint of the murder of the Archbishop lord was a desperate rogue; that his of Paris, in a black frame, alone broke business was not sufficient to support the uniformity of wall. The ceiling, as himrn; that he had remarked that I was far as one could judge of any thing at in possession of a very valuable horse, that altitude, appeared to be traversed a carriage which would fetch something, by an enormous beam with rings fastened and a quantity of luggage in which there into it adapted for suicidal purposes, were probably articles of price. I had and splashed with the whitewash with other things of worth about my person, which the ceiling itself and the walls including a sum of money, without which had just been decorated. Even my I could not be traveling about, as he saw little terrier, whom I had been obliged me, from place to place. to take up in my arms on account of While my mind was amusing itself the disposition she had n:anifested to with these cheerful reflections a little fly at the shins of our detested landlord, girl, of about twelve years old, entered looked round the room with a gaze of the room through the glass-doors, and, horror as I set her down, and trembled after honoring me with a long stare, and shivered as if she would come out went to the cupboard at the other end of her skin. of the apartment, and, opening it with "And so you don't like him, Nelly, a bunch of keys which she brought with and your little beads of eyes, that look her in her hand, took out a small white up at me from under that hairy pent- paper packet, about four inches square, house, with nothing but love in them, and retired with it by the way by which are all ablaze with fury when they are she had entered; still staring at me so turned upon his sinister face? And diligently that, from want of proper athow did he get that scar, Nelly? Did tention to where she was going, she got he get it when he slaughtered his last (I am happy to state) a severe bump 28 A MESSAGE FROM TIlE SEA. against the door as she passed through " pooh! Nelly," I repeated, "what fran. it. She was a horrid little girl this, tic and inconceivable nonsense I" with eyes that in shirking the necessity And what was it that I thus stigmaof looking straight at any body or any tized? What was it that had given me thing, had got at last to look only at pause in the middle of my draught? her nose-finding it, probably, as bad a What thoughlt was it that caused me to nose as could be met with, and therefore set down my glass with half its cona congenial companion. She had, more- tents remaining in it? It was a susover, frizzy and fluey hair, was excess- picion, driven straight and swift as an ively dirty, and had a slow, crab-like arrow into the innermost recesses of my way of going along without looking at soul, that the wine I had just been what she was about, which was very drinking, and which, contrary to my noisome and detestable. custom, I had mingled with water, was It was not long before this young drugged! lady reappeared, bearing in her hand a There are some thoughts which, like plate containing the omelet, which she noxious insects, come buzzing back into placed upon the table without going one's mind as often as we repulse them. through the previous form of laying a We confute them -in argument, prove cloth. She next cut an immense piece them illogical, leave them not a leg to of bread from a loaf shaped like a ring, stand upon, and yet there they are thb and, having clapped this also down upon next moment as brisk as bees, and the dirtiest part of the table, and having stronger on their pins than ever. It further favored me with a wiped knife was just such a thought as this with and fork, disappeared once more. She which I lhad now to deal. It was well disappeared to fetch the wine. When to say "Pooh!" it was well to remind this had been brought, and some water, myself that this was the nineteenth ceiithe preparations for my feast were con- tury, that I was'not acting a part in a sidered complete, and I was left to enjoy French melodrama, that such things as it alone. I was thinking of were only known in I must not omit to mention that the romances; it was well to argue that to horrid waiting-maid appeared to excite set a respectable man down as a muras strong an antipathy in the breast of derer, because he had peculiar colored my little dog as that which my landlord eyes and a, scar upon his cheek, were. himself had stirred up; and, I am happy ridiculous things to do' There seemed to say, that as the child left the room to be two separate parties within me: I was obliged to interfere to prevent one possessed of great powers of arga.Nelly from harassing her retreating ment and a cool judgment: the other, calves. an irrational or opposition party, whose Gentlemen, an experienced traveler chief force consisted in a system of dog. soon learns that he must eat to support ged assertion which all the arguments nature; closing his eyes, nose, and ears of the rational party were insufficient to to all suggestions. I set to work then, put down. at the omelet with energy, and at the It was not long' before an additional tough sour bread with good will, and force was imparted to the tactics of the had swallowed half a tumbler of wine irrational party, by certain symptoms and water, when a thought suddenly which began to develop themselves in occurred to me which caused me to set my internal organization, and which the glass down upon the table. I had seemed favorable to the view of the case no sooner done this than I raised it I was so anxious to refute. In spite of again to my lips, took a fresh sip, rolled all my efforts to the contrary, I could the liquid about in my mouth two or inot help feeling that some very remnarkthree times, and spat it out upon the able sensations were slowly and gradufloor. But I uttered, as I did so, in an ally stealing over me. First of all, I audible tone, the nlonosyllable " Pooh!" began to find that I was a little at fault "Pooh! Nelly," I said, looking down in my system of calculating distances: at my dog, who was watching me in- so that when I took up any object and tensely with her head on one side- attempted to replace it on the table, I A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. 29 either brougrht it into contact with that in consequence of the violent barking article'of furniture with a crash, in con- of my terrier. The landlord was in the sequence of conceiving it to be lower room; he was just unlocking the cup. than it was; or else, imagining that the board from which tile little girl had table was several inches nearer to the taken the paper parcel. - He took out ceiling than was the case, I abandoned just such another paper parcel, and rewhatever I held in my hand sooner than turned again through the doors. As I should, and found that I was con- he did so, I remember stupidly wonderfiding it to space. Then, again, my ing what had become of the little girl. head felt light upon my shoulders, there Presently his evil face appeared again was a slight tingling in my-halnds, and at the door. a sense that they, as well as my feet "I am going to prepare the coffee," (which were very cold), were swelling said the landlord; " perhaps Monsieur to gigantic size, and were also sur- will like it better than the wine." rounded with numerous rapidly revolv- As the man disappeared I started ing wheels of a light structure, like suddenly and violently upon my feet. I Catherine-wheels previous to ignition. could deceive myself no longer. My It also appeared to me that when I thoughts were like lightning. "The, spoke to my dog my voice had a curious wine having been taken in so small a sound, and my words were very imper- quantity and so profusely mixed with fectly articulated. water, has done its work (as this man It would happen, too, that when I can see) but imperfectly. The coffee looked toward the glass-doors, my land- will finish that work. He is now prelord was there, peering at me through paring it. The cupboard, the little the muslin curtain: or the horrid little parcel-there can be no doubt. I will girl would enter, with no obvious inten- leave this place while I yet can. Now tion, and having loitered for a little or never; if those men whose voices I time about the room, would leave it hear in the other room leave the house, again. At length the landlord himself it will be too late. With so many witcame in, and coolly walking up to the nesses no attempt can be made to pre. table at which I was seated, glanced at vent my departure. I will not sleepthe hardly tasted wine before me. I will act-I will force my muscles to " It would appear that the wine of their work, and get away from this place. " the country is not to your taste," he said. Gentlemen, in compensation for a set "It is good enough," I answered, as of nerves of distressing sensitiveness, I carelessly as I could; the words sound- have received from nature a remarkable ing to me as if they were uttered inside power of controlling my nerves for a the cupola of St. Paul's,; and were con- time. I staggered to the door, closing veyed by iron tubes to the place I occu- it after me more violently than I had inpied. tended, and descended-the fresh air I was in a strange state' — perfectly makingme feel very giddy-into the yard. conscious, but imperfectly able to con- As I went down the steps I saw the trol my thoughts, my words, my actions. truculent little girl of whom I have I believe my landlord stood staring already spoken entering the yard, foldown at me as I sat staring up at lowed'by a blacksmith, carrying a hamhim, and watching the Catherine-wheels mer and some other implements of his as they revolved round his eyes and trade. Catching sight of me, the little nose and chin-Gentlemen, they seemed girl spoke quickly to the blacksmith, absolutely to fizz when they got to the and in an instant they both changed scar on his cheek. their course, which was directed toward At this time a noisy party entered the stable, and entered an outhouse on the main room of the auberge, W;hich I the other side of the yard. The thought have described as being visible through entered my head that this man had been the glass-doors, and the landlord had sent for to drive a nail into my horse's to leave me for a time to go and attend foot, so that in the event of the drugged to them. I think I must have fallen wine failing I might still be unable to Into a slight and strongly-resisted doze, proceed. This horrible idea added and that when I started out of it it was new force to my exertions. I seized 80 A MESSAGE FROM TEiE SEA the shafts of my carriage and cor- or other buckled ilto the shafts, ald menced dragging it out of the yard and now I had to get ot.t my purse to pay round to the front of the house: feeling this demand. My hands were cold, my that if it was once in the highway there head was giddy, Mny sight was dim, and, would be less possibility of offering any as I brought out my purse (which was a impediment to my starting. I am con- porte-monnaie, opening with a hinge), I scious of having fallen twice to the managed while paying the bill to turn ground in my struggles to get the car- the purse over and to drop some gold riage out of the yard. Next I hastened pieces. to the stable. My mare was still har- " Gold!" cried the boy who had been nessed, with the exception of the head- helping me to harness the horse: speakstall. I managed to get the bit into ing as if by an irresistible impulse. her mouth, and dragged her to the The landlord made a sudden dart at place where I had left the carriage. it, but instantly checked himself. After I know not how many efforts to "People want plenty of gold," he place the docile beast in the shafts- said, " when they make a journey of for I was as incapable of calculating pleasure." distances as a drunken man —I recollect, I felt myself getting worse. I could but how I know not, securing the not pick up the gold pieces as they lay assistance of the boy I had seen. I on the ground. I fell on my knees, and was making a final effort to fasten the my head bowed forward. I could not trace to its little pin, when a voice be- hit the place where a coin lay; I hind me said: could see it but I could not guide my "Are you going away without drink- fingers to it. Still I did not yield. I ing your coffee?" got some of the money up, and the I turned round and saw my landlord stable-boy, who was very officious in asstanding close beside me. He was sisting me, gave me one or two pieces watching my bungling efforts to secure -to this day, I don't know how many the harness, but he made no movement he kept. I cast a hasty glance, and to assist me. seeing no more gold on the ground, "I do not want any coffee," I raised myself by a desperate effort and answered. scrambled to my place in the carriage. " No coffee, and no wine I It would I shook the reins instinctively, and the appear that the gentleman is not a mare began to move. great drinker. You have not given The well-trained beast was beginning your horse much of a rest," he added, to trot away as cleverly as usual, when presently. a thought suddenly flashed into my "I amin haste. What have I to pay?" brain, as will sometimes happen when "You will take something else," said we are just going to sleep-a thought the landlord; "a glass of brandy before which woke me up like a pistol. starting in the wet?" shot, and caused me to spring for, "No, nothing more. What have I ward and gather up the reins so violently to pay?" as almost to bring the mare back upon "You will at least come in for an her haunches. instant, and warm your feet at the "My dog, my dear little Nelly I" I stove." had left her behind I "No. Tell me at once how much To abandon my little favorite was a 1 am to pay." thing that never entered my head. Baffled in all his efforts to get me "No, I must return. I must go back again into the house, my detested land- to the horrible place I have just escaped lord had nothing for it but to answer from. He has seen my gold, too, now," my demand. I said to myself as I turned my horse's "Four litres of oats," he muttered, head with many clumsy efforts; "the "a half-truss of hay, breakfast, wine, men who were drinking in the auberge coffee"-he emphasized the last two are gone; and what is worse than all, I words with a malignant grin —" seven feel more under the influence of the francs fifty centimes." drugs I have swallowed." My mare was by this time somehow As I approached the auberge onee A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. 81 more I remember noticing that its walls sound, and I could feel that I was belooked blacker than ever, that the rain ing carried slowly along, and that every was falling more heavily, that the land- now and then there was a slight jolt: lord and the stable-boy were on the one of which, perhaps, more marked steps of the inn, evidently on the look- than the rest, might be the cause of my out for me. One thing more I noticed being awake at all. -on the road a small speck, as of some Presently, other matters began to vehicle nearing the place. dawn upon my mind through the me"I have come back for my dog,'" dium of my senses.. I could see the said I. regular movement of a horse's ears "I know nothing of your dog." walking in front of me; surely I saw, " It is false I I left her shut up in the too, part of the figure of a man-a pair inner room." of sturdy shoulders, the hood of a coat, "Go there and find her, then," re- and a head with a wide-awake hat upon torted the man, throwing off all disguise. it. I could hear the occasional sounds "I will," was my answer. of encouragement which seemed to I knew it was a trap to get me into emanate from this figure, and which the house; I knew I was lost if I en- were addressed to the horse. I could tered it; but I did not care. I de- hear the tinkling of bells upon the aniscended from the carriage, I clambered mal's neck. Surely, too, I heard a up the steps with the aid of the balus- rumbling sound behind us, and the ters, I heard the barking of my little tread of a horse's feet-just as if there Nelly as I passed through the outer were another vehicle following close room and approached the glass-doors, upon us. Was there any thing more? steadying myself as I went by the articles Yes, in the distance I was able to deof furniture in the room. I burst the tect the twinkling of a light or two, as doors open, and my favorite bounded if a town were not far off. into my arms. Now, Gentlemen, as I lay and obAnd now I felt that it was too late. served all these thinks, there was such As I approached the door that opened a languor shed over my spirits, such a to the road I saw my carriage being led sense of utter but not unpleasant weakround to the back of the house, and the ness, that I hardly cared to ask myself form of the landlord appeared in the what it all meant, or to inquire where I door-way blocking up the passage. I was, or how I came there. A convicmade an effort to push past him, but it tion that all was well with me, lay like was useless. Mly little Nelly fell out an anodyne upon my heart, and it was of my arms on the steps outside; the only slowly and gradually that any landlord slammed the door heavily; and curiosity as to how I came to be so deI fell, without sense or knowledge at veloped itself in my brain. I dare say his feet. we had been jogging along for a quar* * * * * * * ter of an hour, during which I had been It was dark, gentlemen-dark and perfectly conscious, before I struggled very cold. The little patch of sky I was up into a sitting posture, and recoglooking up at had in it a marvelous num- nized the hooded back of the man at ber of stars, which would have looked the horse's head. bright but for a blazing planet which " Dufay?" seemed to eclipse, in the absence of the The man with the hooded coat, who moon, all the other luminaries round was walking by the side of the horse, about it. To lie thus was, in spite of suddenly cried out "Wo l" in a sturdy the cold, quite a luxurious sensation. voice; then ran to the back of the car. As I turned my head to ease it a little riage and cried out "Wo!" again; (for it seemed to have been in this po- and then we came to a stand-still. In sition some time), I felt stiff and weak. another moment he had mounted on the At this moment, too, I feel a stirring step of the carriage, and had taken me close beside me, and first a cold nose cordially by the hand. touching my hand, and then a hot "What," he said, "awake at last? tongue licking it. As to my other sen- Thank Heaven! I had almost begun sation, I was aware of a gentle rumbling to despair of yoa." 82 A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. "My dear friend, what does all this was now my turn to refuse to listen, as mean? Where am I? Where did you it had been his before to refuse to come from? This is not my caleche, speak. that is not my horse."' "Not one word," I said, "till you "Both are safe behind," said Dufay, have had a good dinner, after which heartily; "and having told you so you will come up and sit beside me, much, I will not utter another word till and tell me all I am longing to know. you are safe and warm at the Lion And stay-you will do one thiing more d'Or. See! There are the lights of for me, I know: when you come up the town. Now, not another word." you will bring a plateful of bones for And pulling the horse-cloth under Nelly; she will not leave me to-night, which I was lying more closely over I swear, to save herself from starving.' me, my friend dismounted from the "She deserves some dinner," said step, started the vehicle with the cus- Dufay, as he left the room, " for I think tomary cry of "Allons done!" and a it is through her instrumentality that crack of the whip, and we were soon you are alive at this moment." once more in motion. The bliss in which I lay after Dufay Castaing Dufay was a man into had left the room, is known only to whose company circumstances had those who have passed through some thrown me very often, and with whom great danger, or who, at least, are I had become intimate from choice. newlyrelieved from some condition of Of the numerous class to which he be- severe and protracted suffering. It was longed, those men whose sturdy vehi- a state of perfect repose and happiness. cles and sturdier horses are to be seen When my friend came back, he standing in the yards and stables of brought —not only a plate of fowlall the inns in provincial France-the bones for Nelly, but a basin of soup class of the commis-voyageurs, or for me. When I had finished lapping French commercial travelers-Castaing it up, and while Nelly was still crunchDufay was more than a favorable speci- ing the bones, Dufay spoke as follows: men. I was very fond of him. In the "I said just now that it was to your course of our intimacy I had been for- little dog you owe the preservation of tunate enough to have the opportunity your life, and I must now tell you how of being useful to him in matters of it was. You remember that you left some importance. I think, Gentlemen, Doulaise this morning — " we like those we have served quite as "It seems a week ago," I interwell as they like us. rupted. The town lights were, indeed, close -" This morning," continued Dufay. by, and it was not long before we "Welll You were hardly out of the turned into the yard of the Lion d'Or, inn-yard before I drove into it, having tand found ourselves in the midst of made a small stage before breakfast. I warmth and brightness, and surrounded heard where you were; gone, and as I by faces which, after the dangers I had was going that way too, I determined passed through, looked perfectly an- to give my horse a rest of a couple of gelic. hours, while I breakfasted and transI had no idea, till I attempted to acted some business in the town, and move, how weak and dazed I was. I then to set off after you.'Have you was too far gone for dinner. A bed any idea,' I said, as I left the inn at and a fire were the only things I Doulaise,'whether monsieur meant to coveted, and I was soon in possession stop en route, and if so, where?' -The of both. gargon did not know.'Let me see,' I I was no sooner snugly ensconced said,'the Tete Noire at Mauconseil with my head on the pillow, watching would be a likely place, wouldn't it?' the crackling logs as they sparkled-'No,' said the boy; "the house does my little Nelly lying outside the coun- not enjoy a good character, and no one terpane-than my friend seated himself from here ever stops there.''Well,' beside me, and volunteered to relieve said I, thinking no more of what he my curiosity as to the circumstance of said,'I shall be sure to find him. I my escape from the Tete Neire. It will inquire after him as I go along.' A MESSAGE FROM TIIE SEA. 33 "The afternoon was getting on when not fit to travel. Besides, what right I came within sight of the inn of the have you over him?' TMte iNoire. As you know, I am a lit- "' Thle right of being his friend.' tie near-sighted, but I saw, as I drew' "'How do I know that?' near the anberge, that a conveyance of "'Because I tell you so. See, his some kind was being taken round to dog knows me.' the yard at the back of the house. "'And suppose I decline to accept This circumstance, however, I should that as evidence, and refuse to let this have paid no attention to, had not my gentleman leave my house in his presattention been suddenly caught by the ent state of health?' violent barking of a dog, which seemed "' You dare not do it.' to be trying to gain admittance at the "'Why?' closed door of the inn. At a second "'Because,' I answered, slowly,'I glance I knew the dog to be yours. should go to the Gendarmerie in the Pulling up my horse, I got down and village, and mention under what suspiascended the steps of the auberge. cious circumstances I found my friend One sniff at my shins was enough to here, and because your house has not convince Nelly that a friend was at the best of characters.' hand, and her excitement as I ap- " The man was silent for a moment, proached the door was frantic. as if a little baffled. He seemed, how"On my entering the house I did not ever, determined to try once more. at first see you, but on looking in the "'And suppose I close my doors, direction toward which your dog had and decline to let either of you go; hastened as soon as the door was open- what is to prevent me?' ed I saw a dark wooden staircase, which "'In the first place,' I answered, led out of one corner of the apartment'I will effectually prevent your detainI was standing in. I saw also, that you, ing me single-handed. If you have my friend, were being dragged up the assistance near, I am expected to-night stairs in the arms of a very ill-looking at Francy, and if I do not arrive there, man, assisted by (if possible) a still I shall soon be sought out. It was more ill-looking little girl, who had known that I left Doulaise this morncharge of your legs. At sight of me ing, and most people are aware that the man deposited you. upon the stairs, there is an auberge on the road which and advanced to meet me. does not bear the best of reputations, "'What are you doing with that gen- and that its name is La Tete Noire. tleman?' I asked. Now, will you help me?' "' He is unwell,' replied the ill-look- "' No,' replied the savage.'I will ing man,'and I am helping him up have nothing to do with the affair.' stairs to bed.' "It was not an easy task to drag "' That gentleman is a friend of mine. you without assistance from the place What is the meaning of his being in where you were lying, out into the open this state?'' air, down the steps, and to put you into "'How should I know?' was the an- my conveyance, which was standing swer;' I am not the guardian of the outside; but I managed to do it. The gerntleman's health.' next thing I had to accomplish was the "'Wellthen, I am,' said I, approach- feat of driving two carriages and two ing the place where you were lying; horses single-handed. I could see only'and I prescribe, to begin with, that he one way of managing this. I led my shall leave this place at once.' own horse round to the gate of the "I must own," continued Dufay, stable-yard, where I could keep my eye "that youwere looking horribly ill, and upon him, while I went in search of as I bent over and felt your hardly flut- your horse and carriage, which I had tering pulse, I felt for a moment doubt- to get right without assistance. It was ful whether it was safe to move you. done at last. I fastened your horse's However, I determined to risk it. head by a halter to the back of my car"'Will you help me,' I said,'to riage, and then leading my own beast move this gentleman to his carriage?' by the bridle I managed to start the "'No,' replied the ruffianI'he is procession. And so (though only at a 34 A MESSAGE FRO.M TIIE SEA. foot-pace) we turned our backs upon David Polreath stroked down the the Tete Noire. And now you know long iron-gray hair that fell massively every thing." upon the shoulders of his large-buttoned "I feel, Castaing, as if I should coat, and spake thus: never be able to think of this adventure, or to speak of it again. It wears, THE question was, Did he throw somehow or other, such a ghastly aspect, himself over the cliff of set purpose, or that I sicken at the mere memory of did he lose his way in the dusk and fall it.".iover accidentally, or was he pushed "Not a bit of it." said Dufay, over by some person or persons uncheerily; "you will live to tell it as a known? stirring tale some winter night, take my His body was found nearly fifty yards word for it." below the fall, caught in the low Gentlemen, the prediction is verified. branches of the trees that overhang the May the teetotum fall next time with water at the foot of the track down the more judgment! cliff. It was shockingly bruised and disfigured, so much so as to be hardly " Wa'al, now!" said Captain Jor- recognizable; but for his clothing, an.d gan, rising, with his hand upon the the name on his linen, I doubt whether sleeve of his fellow-traveler to keep him any body could have identified him down; "I congratulate you, sir, upon except myself. There was, however, that adventer; unpleasant at the time, no suspicion of foul play; the signs of but pleasant to look back upon, as rough usage might all have been caused many adventers in many lives are. NMr. by the body having been driven about Tredgear, you had a feeling for your among the stones that encumber the money on that, occasion, and it went bed of the river a long way below the hard on being Stolen Mloney. It was fall. not a sum of five hundred pound, When I speak of the fall, I speak of perhaps?" the Ashenfall, by Ashendell village, "I wish it had been half as much," within an hour's drive of this house. was the reply. This, Gentlemen, is for the information " Thank you, sir. Might I ask the of strangers. question of you that has been already He had been seen by many persons put? About this place of Lanrean, about the village during the day; I did you ever hear of any circumstances myself had seen him go up the hill past whatever that might;,seem to have a the parsonage toward the church: bearing —any how-on that question?" which I rather wondered at, considering "Never." who was buried there, and how, and "Thank you again for a straight- why. I will even confess that I watched for'ard answer," said the captain, apolo- him; and he went-as I expected he getically. "You see, we have referred would, since he had the heart to go to Lanirean to make inquiries, and hap- near the place at all-round to the pening in among the inhabitants present, back of the church where Honor Livwe use the opportunity. In my coun- ingston's grave is; and there he staid, try we always do use opportunities." sitting by himself on the low wall for "And you turn them to good ac- an hour or more. Sometimes, he count, I believe, and prosper?" turned to look across the valley-many "It's a fact, sir," said the captain, a time and oft I had seen him there be-'that we get along. Yes, we get fore, with Honor beside him, watching, along, siro —But I stop the teetotum.'" while he sketched the beautiful landIt was twirled again, and fell to scape- and sometimes he had his back David Polreath; an iron.-gray man; to it, and his head down, as if he were "as old as the hills," tOe capt'ain watching her grave. Not that there is whispered to young Raybrok, "and any thing pleasant or comforting to as hard as nails. And I admire," read there, as on the graves of good added the captain, glancing about, Christian people who have died in " whether Unchris'en Penrewen is here, their beds; for being a suicide, when and which is lie I" they buried her on the north side of the A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA- 85 churh It was at dusk, and without any was his fate, and he couldn't keep service, and, of course, no stone was away. That is my view of it. About allowed to be put up over it. Our his death, and the manner of it, all clergymen has talked of having the Lanrean had its speculation, and said mound leveled and turfed over, and I its say; but I held my peace. I had,wish he would; it always hurts me my opinion, however, and I keep it. I when I go up to Sunday service, to see have never seen reason to change it; that ragged grave lying in the shadow but, on the contrary, I can show you of the wall, for I remember the pretty evidence to establish it. I do not belittle lass ever since she could run lieve he either threw himself over the alone; and though she was passionate, cliff, or fell over, or was pushed over; her heart was as good as gold. She no, I believe he was drawn overhad been religiously brought up, and I drawn over by something below. When am quite sure in my own mind, let the you have heard the notes he made in a coroner's inquest have said what it little book that was found among his would, that she was out of herself, and things after he was dead, you will know Bedlam-mad when she did it. what I mean. His cousin gave that The verdict on him was "accidental book to me, knowing I am curious death," and he had a regular funeral- after odd storiesof the neighborhood; priest, bell, clerk, and sexton, cornm- and what I am going to read, is written plete; and there he lies, only a stone's- in his hand. I know his hand well, throw from Honor, with a ton or two and certify to it: of granite over him, and an inscription, setting forth what a great man he was PASSAGES FROM JAMES LAWRENCE'S in his day, and what mighty engineering JOURNAL. works he did at home and abroad, and how he sleeps now in the hope of a joyful resurrection with the just made per- Honor Livingston has kept her word feect. These present strangers canread with me. I saw her last night as it for themselves; many strangers go plainly as I now see this pen I am up to look at it. His grave is as fa- writing with, and the ink-bottle I have m'ous as the Ashenfall itself, and I have just dipped it into. I saw her standknown folks come away with tears in ing betwixt the two lights, looking at their eyes after reading the flourishing me, exactly as she looked the last time inscription: believing it all like gospel, I saw her alive. I was neither asleep, and saying how sad that so distin- nor dreaming-awake. I had only drunk guished a man should have been cut off a couple of glasses of wine at dinner, irnthe prime of his days.. But I don't and was as much my own man as ever believe it. He was never any more I was in my life. It is all nonsense to than plain James Lawrence to me-a talk about fancy and optical delusions young fellow who, as a lad, had paddled iu this case; I saw her with my eyes as bare-legged over the stones of the river distinctly as I ever saw her alive in the as a guide across for visitors; who had body. The hall clock had just struck been taken. fancy to by one of them, eight, and it was growing dusk: exand decently educated; who had made actly the time of evening, as I well rethe most of his luck, and done a clever member, when she came creeping round thing or two in engineering; who had by the cottage wall, and saw me come back among us in all his glory, to through tile open window, gathering dazzle most people's eyes, and break up my books and making ready to go little Honor Livingston's heart. The away from Ashendell. She was the one good thing I know of him was, last thought to have come into my mind that he pensioned his poor old mother; at that moment, for I was just on the but he did not often come near her, and point of lighting my cigar and going never after Honor Livingston was dead out for a stroll, before turning, in at the -no, not even in her last illness. It Daltons to chat with Anne. All at was a marvel to every body what brought once there she was, Honor herself! I him over here, when we saw him the could have sworn it, had I not seen day before he was found dead; but it them put her under ground just a 86 A ]MESSAGE FROM TIIE SEA. twelvemontn ago. I could not take my me, and I wanted her to love me, and I eyes off her; and there she stood, as petted and plagued her into loving me. nearly as I can tell, a minute-but it because I was idle and I had the opmay have been an hour-and then the portunity; and then I had nothing better place she had filled was empty. I was to tell her than that I was only in jest-I so much bewildered, and out of myself could not marry her, for I was engaged as it were, that for a while I could to another woman. She would not beneither think of any thing, nor hear any lieve it. That sounded, to her, more thing, but the mad heavy throbbing of like jest than the other. And she did my own pulses. I cannot say that I not believe it until she saw me making was scared exactly; for the time I was ready to go; and then, all in a moment, completely xapt away; the first actual I suppose, madness seized her, and she sensation I had was of my own heart neither knew where she went nor what thumping in my breast like a sledge- she did. hammer. I fancy I can see her now coming But I can call her up now and tripping down the fields leading her analyze her-a wan, vague, misty out- little brother by the hand, and I fancy'ine, with Honor's own eyes full upon I can see the saucy laugh she gave me me. I can almost fancy I hear her over her shoulder as I asked her if she asking again, " Is it true you're going, had any ripe cherries to sell. She James? You're not really going, looked the very mischief with those James?" pretty eyes, and I was taken rather Now I am not the man to be aback when she said, " I know you, frightened by a shadow, though that Jemmy Lawrence." That was the beshadow be Honor Livingston, whom ginning of it. Little Honor and her they say I as good as murdered. I mother lived next door to mine, and she always had a turn for investigating had not forgotten me though. I had been riddles, spiritual, physiological, and full seven years away. I did not know otherwise; and r shall follow this mays- her, the gipsy, but I must needs go in tery up, and note whether she comes and see her that evening; and so we back to me year by year, as she pro- went on until I asked her if she rememmised. I have never kept a diary' of bered when we went to dame-school topersonal matters before, not being one gether, and when she promised to be who cares to see spectres of himself at my little wife? If she remembered I remote periods of his life, talking to Of course she did, every word of it, and him again of his adventures and misad- more; and she was so pretty, and the ventures out of yellow old pages that lanes in the summer were so pleasant had better never have been written; that sometimes my fancy did play Annto but this is a marked event worth corn- Dalton false, and I believed I should memorating, and a well-authenticated like Honor better; and I said more than ghost-story to me who never believed I meant, and she took it all in the grand in ghosts before. serious manner. It was a rather spiteful threat of I was not.much to blame. I would Honor —" I'll haunt you till you come not have injured her for the world; she to the Ashenfall, where I'm going now I" was as good a little soul as ever lived. I might have stopped her, but it never Love and jealousy, as passions, seem to entered my mind what she meant until find their strong-holds under thatch. it was done. I did not expect she would If Phillis, the milkmaid, is disappointed, make a tragedy of a little love story; she drowns herself in the mill-pool;. if she did not look like that sort of thing. Lady Clara gets a cross of the heart, She was no ghost, bless her I in the she indites a lachrymose sonnet, and flesh, but as round, rosy, dimpled lit- marries a gouty peer; if Colin's sweettle creature as one would wish to see; heart smiles on Lubin, Colin loads his and what could possess her to throw gun and shoots them both; if Sir herself over the fall, Heaven only knows. Harry's fair flouts him, he whistles het Bah I Yes, I know; I need tell no lies down the wind, and goes a wooing elsehere, I need not do any false swearing where. Had little Honor been a fine to myself-the poor little creature loved lady she would be living still. Oh, the A MESSAGE FROMI THIE SEA. 37 pretty demure lips, and the shy glances look in that way; you had an awful and rosy blushes! When I saw Anne face, James, for a moment." Daltoi to-day I could not help conmpar- I begged her not to talk about it, ing her frigid( gentility with poor H-onor. assured her that it was a thing of very rare Anne loves her'self better thau she will occurrence witlh Ie and that there was no ever love any man alive. But then I cure for it. But this did not pacify her, know she is the kind of wife to help a and this morniig no peace could be had man up in the world, and that is the until Dr. iutchinson was sent for and kind of wife for me. she had given the old gentleman her Honor Livingston lying on her little own account of me. He said he would bad, and her blind mother feeling her talk to me by-and-by. And when he cold dead face I I wish I had never got me by myself, I can not tell how it seen it. 1 would have given the world was, but he absolutely contrived to to keep away, but somethin'g compelled worm the facts out of me, and I was fool me to go in and look at her; and I did enough to let him do it. He looked at feel then as if I had killed her. Last me very oddly, with a sort of suspicious night she was a shadowy essence of this scrutiny in his eye; but I understood drowned Ophelia and of her living self. him, and said, laughing, " No, doctor, She was like, yet unlike; but I knew it no, there is nothing wrong here," tadpwas HIonor; and I suppose, if she has ping my forehead as I spoke. her will, wherever her restless spirit may "I' iould say not, except this fancy be condemned to bide between whiles- for seeing ghosts," replied he, dryly. on the tenth of August she will always -But I perceived, all the time that he was come back to me, and haunt me until I with me, that I was the object of a furgo to her. tive and carefully dissembled observation, which was excessively trying. I HASTINGS, August 11, 1830. could with difficulty keep my temper unAgain I I,had forgotten the day- der it, and I believe he saw the struggle. forgotten every thing about that I iaucy lihe wanted to have some talk wretched business of poor Honor Liv- with Anne by herself, but I prevented iilgston when. last night I saw her. that by never losing sight of him until Anne and I were sitting together out he was safely off the premises. If he in the veranda, talking of all sorts of proposed a private interview while I commonplace things-our neighbors' was out alone, I prevented that, too, by afttirs, money, this, that, and the other imLmediately ordering Anne to pack up -the sea was looking beautiful, and I our traps, and coming back to town was on the point of proposing a row by that very day. I have not been well moonlight, when Anne said, "How since. I feel out of spirits, bored, lovely the evenings are, James, in this worried, sick of every thing. If the place! Look at the sky over the down, feeling does not leave me, in spite of all how clear it is I" Turning my head, I Atnne may say, I shall take that offer to naw HIonor standing on the grass only go to Soullt America, and start by the few paces off, her shadowy shape quite next packet. 1 should like to see Dr. listilnet against the reds and purples Hilutchinson's face when he calls at our )t the clouds. lodgings to visit his patient, and finds Anne clutched my hand with a sud- the bird flown. Iea cry, for she was looking at my face aI the time, and asked me passionately LONDON, August 20, 1830. vhat I saw. With that Honor was This wretched state of things does;one, and, passing my hand over my not cease. One day I feel in full, firm, yes, I put my wife off with an excuse clear possession of my soul, and the bout a spasm at my heart. And, in- next, perhaps, I am hurried to and fro eed, it was no lie to say so, for this with the most tormenting fancies. I isitation gave me a terrible shock. see shadows of Honor wherever I turn, Anfie insisted on my seeing the doe- and she is no longer motionless as ber. "It must be something dreadful, fore, but beckons me with her band not dangerous, that could make you until I tremble in every limb. My 3 88 A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. heart is sick almost to death. For down in my will for a handsome rememthree days now I have had no rest. I brance. As for Anne, she has chosen can not sleep at nights for hideous to return to her family, and they may dreams; and Anne watches me stealthi- keep her; she will never see my face ly, I see, and never remains alone with again, of my free will, as long as I me longer than she can help. I can live. perceive that she is afraid of me, and The picturesqueness of this place is that she suspects something, without not noteworthy in any high degree. exactly knowing what. To-day she The harbor is inclosed by a chain of must needs suggest my seeing a doctor mountains, and has to entrances here, and when I replied I was going to formed by the island of Roquetta; the South America, she told me I was not castle of St. Diego commands the town fit for it, in such a contemptuous tone and the bay, standing on a spur of the of provocation that I lifted my hand and hills. Burton has been two and fro on struck her. Then she quailed, and his rambles ever since we landed; but I while shrinking under my eyes, she said, find the heat too great for much exer"James, your conduct is that of a mad- tion, and when we begin our journey man!I' Since then I know she sits into the interior I have need of all my with me in silent terror, longing to es- forces; therefore, better husband them cape and find some one to listen to her now. grievances. But I shall keep strict MEXICO, April 24, 1831. ward that she does nothing of the kind. We are better off here than we anticiI will not have my foes of my own pated. Burton has found an old fellowhousehold, and no spying relatives shall pupil engaged as engineering tutor in come between us to put asunder those the School of Mines, and there are civilwhom God has joined together. ized amusements which we neither of us had any hope of finding. The city is ACAPULCO, llarch 17, J831. full of ancient relics, and Burton is on It is six months since I wrote the foot exploring, day by day. I prefer above. In the interval I have been the livinginterests of this strar ge place, miserably ill, grievously tormented both and sometimes early in the morning I be. in mind and body; but now that I ha7e take myself to the market-place and got safely away from them all, with the watch the Indians dress their stalls. Atlantic between myself and my wicked No matter what they sell, they dewife, whose conduct toward me I will corate their shops with fresh herbs and never forgive, I can collect my powers flowers until they are sheltered under of mind, and bend them again to a bower of verdure. They display my work. Burton came out in the their'fruit in open basket-work, laysame ship with me to engage in the ing the pears and raisins below, and same enterprise. After a few days' rest covering them above with odorous we intend setting out on our journey to flowers. An artist might make a pretty the uining districts, where we are to act. picture here, when the Indians arrive al My head feels perfectly light and clear, sunrise in their boats loaded with th{ all my impressions are distinct and vivid produce of their floating gardens again, and I can get through a hard Next week Burton, his friend, and I ar day's close study without inconvenience. to set out for the mines of Moran anil There was nothing but my miserable Real del Monte. I should have pre liver to blame, and when that was get ferred to delay our journey a while longe right all my imaginary phantoms disap- for reasons of my own, but Burto peared. Umpleby said it had been presses, and feels we have already d( coming on gradually for months, and layed longer than enough. that there was nothing at all extraordinary in my delusions; my diseased state MORAN, July 4, 1831. was one always so attended, more or less. I am sick of this place, but our bus And Anne, in her cowardly malignity, ness here is now on the verge of cor would have consigned me for life to a pletion, and in a few days we start lunatic asylum I It was Umpleby who our expedition to the mines of Guan saved me, and I have put his name mato. The cirector, Burton, and m A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. 39 self, are all of opinion that immense terday, the confusion and horror return advantages are to be gained by ir- upon me again, and my brain swerves proving the working of the mines, which like the brain of a drunken man. I will is, at present, in a very defective con- write no more —sufficient to record that dition. There is great mortality among the appointed time came and went, and the Indians, who are the beasts of Honor Livingston did not keep her burden of the mines; they carry on word with me. their backs loads of metal of from two hundred and fifty to three hundred and NEW ORLEANS, February, 1832. fifty pounds at a time, ascending and I left Burton still in Mexico, and descending thousands of steps in files came here alone. His care and conwhich contain old men of seventy and siderateness were more than I could put mere children. I have not been very up with, and after two or three ineffec. well here, having had some return of tual remonstrances, we came to a violent old symptoms, but under proper treat- rupture, and I determined to throw up ment they dispersed; however, I shall my engagement, rather than Icarry it be thankful to be on the move again. out in conjunction with such a man. There was no avoiding the quarrel. PASCUARO, August 11, 1831. Was I to be tutored day by day, and Can any man evade his thoughts, im- the wine-bottle removed out of my palpable curses sitting on his heart, reach? He dared to tell me that when mocking like fiends? I can not evade I was cool, clear-myself, in short — mine. All yesterday I was haunted by there was no man my master in our a terrible anxiety and dread. At every profession; but that when I had drunk turn, at every moment, I expected to see freely I was unmanageable as a ln. Honor Livingston appear before me, natic! A lie, of course; but unscru, but I did not see her. The day and pulous persecutors are difficult to cir the night passed, and I was freed from cumvent. Anne's malice pursues m that great horror-how great I had not eyen here. When I'was out yester realized, until its hour had gone and day, my footsteps were dogged pertinaleft no trace. This morning I am my- cious!y wherever I went, and perhaps self again; my spirits revive; I have an account of my doings will precede escaped my enemy, and have proved me home; but if they do, I defy them that it was, indeed, but a subtle emana- all to do their worst. tion of my own diseased body and mind. But these thoughts, these troublesome ASHENDELL, AuCgust 9, 1839. persistent thoughts, how combat them? This old book turned up to-day, Burton, very observant of me at all among some traps that have lain by times, was yesterday watchful as an in- in London all the years that I have quisitor; he said he hoped I was not spent, first in Spain and afterward in going to have the frightful fever which Russia. What fool's-talk it is: but I is prevailing here, but I know he meant suppose it was true at the time. I something else. I have not a doubt know I was in a wretched condition now that Anne and all that confederacy while I was in Mexico and in the States, warned him before we set sail to beware but I have been sane enough and sound of me, for I had been mad; that is the enough ever since the illness I had at cursed lie they set abroad. Mad! All Baltimore. To prove how little hold the world's mad, or on the way to it I on me my ancient horrors have retained, But if Honor had come back to me I find myself at Ashendell in the very yesterday, we might have gone and season of the year when Honor Livinghave looked down together into hell, ston destroyed herself —to-morrow is through the ovens of Jorulla. The the anniversary of her death. So I missionaries cursed this frightful place take my enemy by the throat, and crush generations since; and it is accursed, him I These fantastical maladies will if ever land was. Nothing more awful not stand against a determined will. At than this desolate burning waste, which Moscow, at Cherson, at Archangel, the the seas could not quench. When I tenth of August has come and gone, remember it and all I underwent yes- unmarked. Honor failed of her threat 40 A MESSAGE FROMI T1UE SEA. everywhere except at Lisbon. I saw have given her a prayer for rest. if they her there twice, just before we sailed. were forbidden to believe she died in I saw her, when we were off that coast hope. I prayed for her to-day —more where we so nearly escaped wreck, need, perhaps, to pray for myself-and rising and falling upon the waves. I then there came a crazed whirl in my saw her in London that day I appointed brain, and I set off to find Linchley. A, to see Anne. But Iknowwhat it means: I came down near the water, the fall it means that I must put myself in sounded very tumnltuous; it was sultry Umpleby's hands for a few weeks, and hot, and I should have liked to turn that the shadows will forthwith vanish. down by the river, but I said, " No, it. Shadows they are, out of my own brain, is the tenth of August! If I am to and they take the shape of Honor be- meet Honor Livingston to-day, I'll not cause I have let her become a fixed idea meet her by Ashenfall!" So I came in my mind. Yet it is very strange that home to our lodgings, to find that the last time she appeared to me I heard Linchley. had gone over to Warfe, and her speak,. I fancied she said that it had left a message that he should not was Almost time; and then louder, return until to-morrow. I have the "I'll haunt you, James, until you come night before me alone; it is not like an to the Ashenfall, where I am going English night at all; it is like the nights now!" And with that she vanished. I remember at Cadiz, which always herFancy plays strange tricks with us, and alded a tremendous storm. And I think makes cowards of us almost as cleverly we shall have a storm here, too, before as conscience. the morning. August 10. I have had a very unpleasant impres- Those were the last words James sior on me all day. I wish I had resist. Lawrence ever wrote, Gentlemen. Fured Lincbley's persuasions more steadily. ther than this no man can speak of his I ought never to have come down here death; it is plain to me that one of his again. The excitement of its miserable mad fits was coming on before he lett ccollections is too much for me. The Lisbon; that it grew and incrensed man at the inn called me by my name until he came here; and that here it this morning, and said he recollected reached its climax, and urged h1iml to mne-looking up toward the church as his death. I believe in the ghosts Jnames he spoke. Damn him! All day I seem Lawrence saw, as I believe in the hauntto have been acting against my will. ing power of any great misdeed tha. t What should possess me to go there has driven a fellow-creature into deadly this afternoon? Round about among sin. the graves, until I came to the grassy When David Polreath had finished, hillock on the north side of the church, the chairman gave the teetotum such a where they buried Honor that night, swift and sudden twirl, to be beforewithout a prayer. I sat down on the hand with any interruption, that it low wall, and looked across to the hills twirled among all the glasses, and into beyond the river, listening to the mo- all corners of the table, and finally flew iretonous sing-song of the fall. I would off the table and lodged in Captain give all I possess to-day to be able to Jorgan's waistcoat. tread back or to untread a sco;e of the "A kind of a judgment!" said the years of my life It seems such a blank; captain, taking it out. " What's to be of all I planned and schemed how little done now? I know no story, except have I accomplished I Watching by Down Easters, and they didn't happen 1Tonor's grave, I fell to thinking of her. to myself, or any one of my acquainltWhat had either of us done that we ance, and you couldn't enjoy'em witlhshould be so wretched? Is it part and out going out of your minds first. And parcel of the great injustice of life that perhaps the company ain't prepared to some must suffer so signally while others do that?" escape? The coarse grass is never cut The chairman interposed by rising at the north side of the chu-teb, nettles and declaring it to be his perroud Bnd brambles grow about the grave. perrivilege to stop preliminary observa bIonor was mad, poor soul; they might tions. A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. 41 " Wa'al," said the captain, "I defer Though the Kings built churches to pierce to the President-which an't at all the sky, what they do ill my country, where they And the rabbling churls in the cross-road lay into him, head, limbs, and body." lie. Here he slapped his leg. "But I beg Yet'twixt the despot and slave half-free to ask a preliminary question. Colonel Old Truth may have message clear; Polreath has read from a diary. Might Since the hard black yew, and the lithe I read from a pipe-light?" young tree, The chairman requested explanation. Belong to an age-and a year, "The history of the pipe-light," said And though distant in might and in leaf the captain, "is just this: that it's they be, verses, and was made on the voyage n right of the woods they are near. verses, and was made on the voyage home by a passenger I brought over. And old Truth's message, perchance, may And he was a quiet crittur of a middle- be: aged man, with a pleasant countenance, "' Believe in thy kind, whate'er the degree, And he wrote it on the head of a cask. Be it King on his throne, or serf on his And he was a most etarnal time about knee. it tew. And he blotted it as if he had While Our Lord showers light, in his wrote it in a continual squall of ink. bounty fr ee, And then he took an indigestion, and I and the sea." physicked him, for want of a better doctor. And then to show his liking They are singing within, with their voices for me he copied it out fair, and gave it dear, to me for a pipe-light. And it ain't To the tunes which are dear as well; been lighted yet, and that's a fact." And we sit and dream while the words we "Let it be read," said the chairman. Having tale of our own to tell" With thanks to Colonel Polreath Of a far midnight on the terrible sea, for setting the example," pursued the Which comes back on the tune of their captain, "and with apologies to the blithe old glee. Honorable A. Parvis and the whole of the present company for this passenger's As old as the hills, and as old as the skyhaving expressed his mind in verses- As the King on his throne-as the serf which he may have done along of bein' A ong wherei n richcan with poor sea-sick, and he was very-the pipe- agree, light, unrolled, comes to this: With its chorus to make them laugh or cryWE sit by the fire so wide and red, Which the young are singing, with no With' the dance of the young within, thought nigh, Who have yet small learning of cold and Of a night on a terrible sea: dread, "I care for nobody; no, not I, And of sorrow no more than of sin; Since nobody cares for me." Nor dream of a night on a sleepless bed Of waves with their terrible wrecks o'er- The storm had its will. There was wreck — spread. there was flight O'er an ocean of Alps, through the pitch. We sit round the hearth as red as gold, black night, And the legends beloved we tell, When a good ship sank, and a few got How battles were won by the nobles bold, free, Where hamlets of villains fell: To cope in their boat with the terrible sea. And we praise our God, while we cut the bread, And when the day broke, there was And share the wine round, for our heroes blood on the sea, dead. From the wild hot eye of the sun out. shed, And we talk of the Kings, those strong, For the heaven was a-flame as with fire proud men, from Hell, Who ravaged, confessed, and died; And a scorching calm on the waters fell, And of churls who rabbled them oft and As if ruin had won, and with fiendish glee. again, Sailed forth in his galley to number the Perchance with a kindred pride — dead. 42 A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. And they rcwed their boat o'er the terri- Let the play end with your number Four. ble sea, What need to draw? Live along you As mute as a crew made of ghosts might few be; Who have hopes to save and have wives to For the best in his heart had not manhood cry to say, O'er the cradles of children free! That the land was five hundred miles What matter if folk without home should' away. die, And be eaten by land or sea? A day and a week-There was bread for "I care for nobody: no, not I, one man; Since nobody cares for me!" The water was dry. And on this, the few And with that, a knife-and a heart struck Who were rowing their boat o'er the terri- throughble sea, And the warm red blood, and the cold To murmur, to curse, and to crave began. black clay, And how'twas agreed on, no one knew, And the famine withdrawn from among But the feeble and famished and scorched the few, by the sun, By their horrible meal for another day! With his pitiless eye, drew lots to agree, What their hideous morrow of meat must So the eight, thus fed, came at last to land, be. And the tale of their shipmate told, As of water found in the burning sand, Oh then were the faces frightful to read, Which braves not the thirsty, cold. Of ravening hope, and of cowardly pride But the love of the listener, safe and free, That lies to the last, its sharp terror to Goes forth to that slave on that terrible hide; sea. And a stillness as though'twere some game of the Dead, For, fancies from hearth and from home While they waited the numoer their lot will stray, to decide- e Though within are the dance and the There were nine in that boat on the terri- song; ble sea, And a grave tale told, if the tune be gay, And he who drew NINE was the victim to Says little to scare the young. be. While they sing, with their voices clear as can be, You may think what a ghastly shiver Having called, once more, for the blithe there ran, old gleeFrom mate to his mate, as the doom began. "I care for nobody; no, not I, Since nobody cares for me." Six —had a wife with a wild rose cheek; Two —a brave boy, not a year yet old; But the careless tune, it saith to the old, EIGHT —his last sister, lame and weak, Who sit by the hearth as red as gold, Who quivered with palsy more than When they think of their tale of the terwith cold. rible sea; "Believe in thy kind, whlate'er the degree, You may think what a breath the respited Be it King on his throne, or serf on his drew, knee, And how wildly still sat the rest of the While our Lord showers good from hgs crew; bounty free, I)w the voice as it called spoke hoarser Over storms over calm, over land, over and slower; sea." The number it next dared to speak wasFOUR. ~Mr. Parvis had so greatly disquieted'Twas the rude black man, who had han- the minds of the Gentlemen King Ardled an oar thurs for some minutes, by snoring with The best on that terrible sea of the few. strong symptoms of apoplexy-which, And ugly and grim in the sunshine glare in a mild form, was his normal state of Were his thick parched lips, and his health-that it was now deemed expedull small eyes, dient to wake him and entreat him to And the tangled fleece of his rusty hair- allow himself to be escorted home. Ere the next of the breathless the death- Mr. Parvis's reply to this friendly suglot drew,. Parvss's reply to thb s friendly sugHis shout like a sword pierced the s- gestion could not be placed on record lence through. withou.t the aid of several dashes, and MESSAGE FROMI TIIE SEA. 43 is therefore omitted. It was conceived { naces. At the lower end smoking, in a spirit of the profoundest irritation, supping, and chatting, weir congreand executed with vehemence, con- gated some thirty or forty guests, chiefly tempt, scorn, and disgust. There was mountaineers, char-drivers, and guides. nothing for it but to let the excellent Among these my brother took hlis seat, gentleman alone, and he fell, without and was served, like the rest, with a loss of time, into a defiant slumber. bowl of soup, a platter of beef, a The teetotum being twirled again, so flagon of country wine, and a loaf made buzzed and bowed in the direction of of Indian corn. Presently a huge St. the young fisherman, that Captain Jor- Bernard dog came and laid his nose gan advised him to be bright, and pre- upon my brother's armi. In the mean pare for the worst. But it started off time he fell into conversation with two at a tangent, late in its career, and fell Italian youths, bronzed and dark-eyed, before a well-looking bearded man (one near whom he happened to be seated. who made working-drawings for ma- They were Florentines. Their names, chinery, the captain was informed by they told him, were Stefano and Battisto. his next neighbor), who promptly took They had been traveling for some it up, like a challenger's glove. months on commission, selling cameos, "Oswald Penrewen I" said the chair- mosaics, sulphur casts, and the like man. pretty Italian trifles, and were now on "Here's Unchris'en at last I" the their way to Interlakeri and Geneva. captain whispered Alfred Raybrock. Weary of the cold North, they longed, "Unchris'en goes ahead right smart; like children, for the moment which don't he?" should take them back to their own Ile did, without one introductory blue hills and gray-green olives; to word. their workshop on the Ponte Vecchio, and their home down by the Arno. Mine is my brother's Ghost Story. It It was quite a relief to my brother, happened to my brother about thirty on going up to bed, to find that these years ago, while he was wandering, youths were to be two of his fellowsketch-book in hand, among the High lodgers. The third was already there, Alps, picking up subjects for an illus. and sound asleep, with his face to the trated work on Switzerlltd Having wall. They scarcely looked at this entered the Oberland by the Brunig third. They were all tired, and all Pass, and filled his port-folio with what anxious to rise at daybreak, having he used to call "bits" from the neigh- agreed to walk together over the Wenborhood of Meyringen, he went over the germ Alp as far as Lauterbrunnen. So Great Scheideck to Grindlewald, where my brother and the two youths ex-'he arrived one dusky September evening, changed a brief good-night, and, before ~about three quarters of an hour after many minutes, were all as far away in sunset. There had been a fair that the land of dreams as their unknown day, and the place was crowded. In complanion. the best inn there was not an inch of My brother slept profoundly-so space to spare —there were only two profoundly that, being roused in the inns at Grindlewald thirty years ago- morning by a clamor of merry voices, so Illy brother went to one at the end he sat up dreamily in his rugs, and of the covered bridge next the church, wondered where he was. and there, with some difficulty, obtained "Good-day, Signor," cried Battisto. the promise of a pile of rugs and a "Here is a fellow-traveler going the mattress, in a room which was already same way as ourselves." occupied by three other travelers. "Christien Baumann, native of KanThe Adler was a primitive hostelry, dersteg, musical-box maker by trade, half farm, half inn, with great rambling stands five feet eleven inl his shoes, and galleries outside, and a huge general is at.Monsieur's service to command," room, like a barn. At the upper end said the sleeper of the night before. of this room stood long stoves, like - He was a fine young fellow as one metal counters, laden with steaming would wish to see. Light, and strong, pans, and glowing underneath like filr- and well-proportioned with curling 44 A MESSAGE FROM TIlE SEA. brown hair, and bright, honest eyes herself as pretty as her name, I'll en. that seemed to dance at every word he gage. Did you say she was fair?" uttered.' I said nrothing about it one way or "Good-morning," said my brother. the other," said Battisto, unlocking a "You were asleep last night when we green box clamped with iron, and came up." taking out tray after tray of his pretty "Asleep! I should think so, after wares. "There! Those pictures all being all day it the fair, and walking inlaid in little bits are Romlan Imosatics from Meyringet the evening before. -the flowers on a black ground are What a capital fair it was I" Florentine. Tile ground is of har(d, "Capital, indeed," said Battisto. dark stone, and the flowers are lmade of "We sold cameos and mosaics yester- thin slices of jasper, onyx, corilelian, day for nearly fifty francs." and so forth. Those forget-me-nots, "Oh, you sell cameos and mosaics, for instance, are bits of turquoise, and you two I Show me your cameos, and that poppy is cut from a piece of coral." I will show you my musical boxes. I "I like the Roman ones best," said have such pretty ones, with colored Christie. " What place is that with views of Geneva and Chillon on the all the arches?" lids, playing two, four, six, and even " This is the Coliseum, and the one eight tunes. Bah! I will give you a, next to it is St. Peter's. But we Floconcert!" rentines care little for the Roman work.. And with this he unstrapped his It is not hailf so fine or so valuable as pack, displayed his little boxes on the ours. The Romans make their mosaics table, and wound them up, one after of composition."' the other, to the delight of the Italians. " Composition or no, I like the little "I helped to make them myself, landscapes best," said Christien. There every one," said he, proudly. "Is it is a lovely one, with a pointed building, not pretty music? I sometimes set and a tree, and mountains at the back. one of them when I go to bed at night, How I should like that one for Marie 1" and fall asleep listening to it. I am "You may have it for eight francsll sure, then, to have pleasant dreams! replied Battisto; "we sold two of theml But let us see your cameos. Perhaps yesterday for ten. each. It represeunts I may buy one for Marie, if they are the tomb of Caius Cestius, neal Rore.'1 not too dear. Marie is my sweet-heart, "A tomb!" echoed Christien, conand we are to be married next week." siderably dismayed. " Diable I Thlat "Next week!" exclaimed Stefano. would be a dismal present to one's "That is very soon. Battisto has a bride." sweet-heart also, up at Impruneta; but " She would never guess that it was they will have to wait a long time be- a tomb if you did not tell her'," sug. fore they can buy the ring." gested Stefano. Battisto blushed like a girl. Christien shook his head. "Hush, brother i" said he. "Show "That would be next door to dethe cameos to Christien, and give your ceiving her," said he. tongue a holiday 1" " Nay," interposed my brother, " thei But Christien was not so to be put owner of that tomb has been dead these off. eighteen or nineteen hundred years.. "What is tier name?" said he. One almost forgets that he was ever "Tush! Battisto, you must tell rme her buried ill it." nameI Is she pretty? Is she dark or "Eigllteen or nineteen hundred fair? Do you often see her when you years? Then he was a heathen?" are at home? Is she very fond of you? " Undoubtedly, if by that you mean Is she as fond of you as Marie is of me?" that he lived before Christ." "Nay, how should I know that?" Christien's face lighted up imniieasked the soberer Battisto. "' She diately. loves me, and I love her —that is all." "Oh, that settles the question," said "And her name?" he, pulling out his little canvas purse, "M1largherita." and paying his money down at once. "A charming name And she is "A heathen's tomb is as good as no A MESSAGE FROM TIlE SEA. 45 tomb at all. I'll have it made into a saicist, woUld fulfill the dearest dream brooch for her, at Interlaken. Tell me, of his life. Stefano, not being in love, Battisto, what shall you take home to preferred to travel. Christien, who Italy for your Margherita?" seemed to be the most prosperous, deBattisto laughed and chinked his dlared that it was his darling ambition eight francs.'"That depends ontrade," to rent a farm in his native Kander said he; "if we make good profits be- Valley, and lead the patriarchial life of tween this and Christmas I may take his fathers. As for the musical-box her a Swiss muslin from Berne; but we trade, he said, one should live in Geneva, have already been away seven months, to make it answer; and, for his part, and we lhave hardly made a hundred he loved the pine forests and the snowfrancs over and above our expenses." peaks better than' all the towns in EuAnd with this the talk turned upon rope. Marie, too, had been born among general matters, the Florentines locked the mountains, and it would break her away their treasures, Christien re- heart if she thought she were to live in strapped his pack, and my brother and Geneva all her life and never see the all went down together, and breakfasted Kander Thal again. Chatting thus the in the open air outside the inn. morning wore on to noon, and the It was a magnificent morning; cloud- party rested awhile in the shade of a less and sunny, with a cool breeze that clump, of gigantic firs festooned with rustled in the vine upon the porch, and trailing banners of gray-green moss. flecked the table with shifting shadows Here they ate their lunch, to the silof green leaves. All around and about very music of one of Christien's little them stood the great mountains with boxes, and by-and-by heard the sullen their blue-white glaciers bristling down echo of an avalanche far away on the to the verge of the pastures, and the shoulder of the Jungfrau. pine-woods creeping darkly up their Then they went on again in the burnsides. To the left, the Wetterhorn; ing afternoon, to heights where the to the right, the Eigher; straight before Alp-rose fails from the sterile steep, and them, dazzling and imperishable, like the brown lichen grows more and more an obelisk of frosted silver, the Schreck- scantily among the stones. Here only horn, or Peak of Terror. Breakfast the bleached and barren skeletons of a over, they bade farewell to their hostess, forest of dead pines varied the desolate and, mountain-staff in hand, took the monotony; and high on the summit of path to the Wengern Alp. Half in the pass stood a little solitary inn, belight, half in shadow, lay the quiet -al- tween them and the sky. ley, dotted over with farms, and tra- At this inn they rested again, and versed by a torrent that rushed, milk- drank to the health of Christien and white, from its prison in the glacier. his bride in a jug of country wine. He The three lads walked briskly in ad- was in uncontrollable spirits, and shook vance, their voices chiming together hands with them all, over and over every now and then in chorus of laugh- again. ter. Somehow my brother felt sad. "By nightfall to-morrow," said he, He lingered behind, and, plucking a "I shall hold her once more in my little red flower from the bank, watched arms 1 It is now nearly two years since it hurry away with the torrent, like a I came home to see her, at the end of life on the stream of time. Why was my apprenticeship. Now I am forehis heart so heavy, and why were their man, with a salary of thirty francs a hearts so light? week, and well able to marry." As the day went on my brother's - "Thirty francs a week I" echoed Batmelancholy and the mirth of the young tisto. " Corpo di Bacco I that is a little men seemed to increase. Full of youth fortune." and hope they talked of the joyous Christien's face beamed. future, and built up pleasant castles in " Yes," said he, " we shall be very the air. Battisto, grown more com- happy; and by-and-by-who knows?municative, admitted that to marry we may end our days in the Kander Margherita, and become a master mo- Thal, and bring up our children to suce 46 A MESSAGE FROMI TIIE SEA. ceed us. Ahl If Marie knew that I accountable melancholy still po3ssssed should be there to-morrow night how him, and when at last he dropped into delighted she would be!" an uneasy slumber, it was but to start " How so, Christien?" said my bro- over and over again from frightful ther. "Does she not expect you?" dreams, faint with a nameless terror. "Not a bit of it. She has no idea Toward morning he fell into a profound that I can be there till the day after to- sleep, and never woke until the day was morrow-nor could I if I took the road fast advancing toward noon. Ite then all round by Unterseen and Friitigen. found, to his regret, that Christien had I mean to sleep to-night at Lauterbrun- long since gone. He had risen before nen, and to-morrow morning shall strike daybreak, breakfasted by candle-light, across the Tschlingel glacier to Kand- and started off in the gray dawn —" as ersteg. If I rise a little before day- merry," said the host, "as a fiddler at break I shall be at home by sunset." a fair." At this moment the path took a sud- Stefano and Battisto were still waitden turn, and began to descend in sight ing to see my brother, being charged by of an immense perspective of very dis- Christien with a friendly farewell mestant valleys. Christien flung his cap sage to him, and an invitation to the into the air and uttered a great shout. wedding. They, too, were asked, and " Look!" said he, stretching out his meant to go; so my brother agreed to arms as if to embrace all the dear fa- meet them at Interlaken on the followmiliar scene: "Oh! Look I There are ing Tuesday, whence they might walk the hills and woods of Interlaken; and to Kandersteg by easy stages, reaching here, below the precipices on which we their destination on the Thursday mornstand, lies Lauterbrunnen God be ing,'in time to go to church with the praised, who has made our native land bridal party. My brother then bought so beautiful!" some of the little Florentine cameos, The Italians smiled at each other, wished the two boys every good fortune, thinking their own Arno Valley far more and watched them down the road till he fair; but my brother's heart warmed to could see them no longer. the boy, and echoed his thanksgiving Left now to himself, he wandered out in that spirit which accepts all beauty wit'h his sketch-book, and spent the day as a birth-right and an inheritance. in the upper valley; at sunset he dined And now their course lay across an im- alone in his chamber, by the light of a mense plateau, all rich with corn-fields single lamp. This meal dispatched, he and meadows, and studded with sub- drew nearer to the fire, took out a stantial homesteads built of old brown pocket edition of Goethe's Essays on wood, with huge sheltering eaves, and Art, and promised himself some hours strings of Indian corn hanging like of pleasant reading. (Ah, how well 1 golden ingots along the carven bal- know that very book, in its faded cover, conies. Blue whortleberries grew be- and how often I have heard him describe side the footway, and now and then that lonely evening 1) The night had by they came upon a wild gentian, or a thistime setin cold and wet. The damp star-shaped immortelle. Then the path logs spluttered on the hearth, and a became a mere zigzag on the face of the wailing wind swept down the valley, precipice, and in less than half an hour bearing the rain in sudden gusts against they reached the lowest level of the the panes. My brother soon found that valley. The glowing afternoon had not to read was impossible. His attention yet faded from the uppermost pines wandered incessantly. He read the when they were all dining together in same sentence over and over again, unthe parlor of a little inn looking to the conscious of its meaning, and fell into Jungfrau. In the evening my brother long trains of thought leading far into wrote letters, while the three lads strolled the dim past. about the village. At nine o'clock they Thus the hours went by, and at eleven bade each other good-night, and went o'clock he heard the doors closing be. to their several rooms. low, and the household retiring to rest. Weary as he was, my brother found He determined to yield no longer to it impossible to sleep. The same un- this dreaming apaLhy, Ile threw on A MESSAGE FROMI THE SEA. 47 fresh logs, trimmed the lamp, and took of every vein, a paralysis of every nerve, several turns about the room. Then he an appalling consciousness that in a opened the casement, and suffered the few moments more the lungs must cease rain to beat against his face, and the to play, and the' heart to beat! Powerwind to ruffle his hair, as it ruffled the less to speak or stir, he closed his eyes, scacia leaves in the garden below. and believed that he was dying. Some minutes passed thus, and when, This strange faintness lasted but a at length, he closed the window and few seconds. Gradually the vital came back into the room, his face and warmth returned, and, with it, strength hair and all the front of his shirt were to close the window, and. stagger to a thoroughly saturated. To unstrap his chair. As he did so, he found the knapsack anud take out a dry shirt was, breast of his shirt all stiff and frozen, of course, his first impulse-to drop the and the rain clinging in solid icicles garment, listen eagerly, and start to his upon his hair. feet, breathless and bewildered, was the He looked at his watch. It had next. stopped at twenty minutes before For, borne fitfully upon the outer twelve. He took his thermometer from breeze, now sweeping past the window, the chimney-piece, and found the mernow dying in the distance, he heard cury at sixty-eight. Heavenly powers I a well-remembered strain of melody, How were these things possible in a subtle and silvery as the " sweet airs "' temperature of sixty-eight degrees, and of Prosnero's isle, and proceeding un- with a large fire blazing on the hearth? mistakably from the musical-box which He poured out half a tumbler of had, the day before, accompanied the cognac, and drank it at a draught lunch under the fir-trees of the Wen- Going to bed was out of the question. gern Alp! He felt that he dared not sleep —that Had Christien come back, and was it he scarcely dared to think. All he thus that he announced his return? If could do was to change his linen, pile so, where was he? Under the window? on more logs, wrap himself in his blant Outside in the corridor? Sheltering in kets, and sit all night in an easy-chair the porch, and waiting for admittance? before the fire. My brother threw open the casement My brother had not long sat thus, again, and called him by his name. however, before the warmth, and pro"Christien! Is that you?" bably the nervous reaction, drew him Aii without was intensely silent. He off to sleep. In the morning, he found could hear the last gust of wind and himself lying on the bed, without being rain moaning further and further away able to remember in the least how or upon its wild course down the valley, when he reached it. and the pine-trees shivering, like living It was again a glorious day. The things. rain and wind were gone, and the Sil"Christen!" he said again, and his verhorn at the end of the valley lifted own voice seemed to echo strangely on its head into an unclouded sky. Lookhis ear.' Speak! Is it you?" ing out upon the sunshine, he almost Still iio one answered. He leaned doubted the events of the night, and out into the dark night, but could see but for the evidence of his watch, which nothing-not even the outline of the still pointed to twenty minutes before porch below. He began to think that twelve, would have been disposed to his imagination had deceived him, when treat the whole matter as a dream. As suddenly the strain burst forth again; it was, he attributed more than half this time, apparently in his own cham- his terrors to the promptings of an her. over-active and over-wearied brain. As he turned, expecting to find For all this, he still felt depressed and Christien at his elbow, the sounds uneasy, and so very unwilling to pass broke off abruptly, and a sensation of another night at Lauterbrunnen, thatintensest cold seized him in every limb he made up his mind to proceed that -not the mere chill of nervous terror, morning to Interlaken. While he was not the mere physical result of exposure yet loitering over his Lreakfast, and to wind and rain, but a deadly freezing considering whether he should walk the 48 A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. sever, miles of road, or hire a vehicle, and-stranger still-Stefano's watch a char came rapidly up to the inn door, had done the very same. Now tell me, and a young man jumped out. signor, do you believe that there is any "Why, Battisto!" exclaimed my meaning in this, or do you think, as brother, in astonishment, as he came Stefano persists in thinking, that it was into the room; " what brings you here all a dream?" to-day? Where is Stefano?" " What is your own conclusion, Bat"I have left him at Interlaken, sig- tisto?" nor," replied the Italian. " My conclusion, signor, is that some Something there was in his voice, harm has happened to poor Christien something in his face, both strange and on the glacier, and that his spirit came startling. to me last night." "What is the matter?" asked my "]Battisto, he shall have help if livbrother, breathlessly. " I-e is not ill? ing, or rescue for his poor corpse if No accident has happened?" dead; for I, too, believe that all is not Battisto shook his head, glanced fur- well." tively up and down tht passage, and And with this my brother told him closed the door. briefly what had occurred to himself in " Stefano is well, signor; but-but the night; dispatched messengers for a circumstance has occurred-a circum- the three best guides in Lauterbrunstance so strange! —Signor, do you be- nen; and prepared ropes, ice-hatchets, lieve in spirits?" alpenstocks, and all such matters neces"In spirits, Battistc?" sary for a glacier expedition.. Hasten "Ay, signor; for if ever the spirit as he would, however, it was nearly of any man, dead or living, apl)ealed to mid-day before the party started. human ears, the spirit of C1lristien Arriving in about half an hour at a came to me last night, at tweity minutes place called Stechelberg, they left the before twelve o'clock." char, in which they bad traveled so "At twenty minutes before twelve far, at a chalet, and ascended a 3'clock!" repeated my brother. steep path in full view of the Briet" I was in bed, signor, and Stefano horn glacier, which rose up to the left was sleeping in the same room. I had like a battlemented wall of solid ice. gone up quite warm, and had fallen The way now lay for some time among asleep, full of pleasant thoughts. By- pastures and pine-forests. Then they and-by, although I had plenty of bed- came to a little colony of chalets, called clothes, and a rug over me as well, I Steinberg, where they filled their wawoke, frozen with cold, and scarcely ter-bottles, got their ropes in readiness, able to breathe. I tried to call to Ste- and prepared for the Tschlingel glafalno; but I had no power to utter the cier. A few minutes more, and they slightest sound. I thought my last were on the ice. moment was come. All at once I At this point the guides called a halt heard a sound under the window-a and consulted together. One was for sound which I knew to be Christien's striking across the lower glacier toward musical box; and it played as it played the left, and reaching the upper glacier when we lunched under the fir-trees, by the rocks which bound it on the except that it was more wild and south. The other two preferred the strange and melancholy, and most north or right side; and this my brosolemn to hear-awful to hear! Then, ther finally took. The sun was now signor, it grew fainter and fainter-and pouring down with almost tropical inthen it seemed to float past upon the tensity, and the surface of the ice, wind, and die away. When it ceased, which was broken into long, treachermy frozen blood grew warm again, and ous fissures, smooth as glass and blue I cried out to Stefano. oWhen I told as the summer sky, was both difficult him what had happened, he declared I and dangerous. Silently and cautiously had been only dreaming. I made him they went, tied together at intervals strike a light, that I might look at my of about three yards each: with two watch. It pointed to twenty minutes guides in front, and the third bringing before twelve, and had rtopped there; up the rear. Turning presently to the A MESSAGE FROM TIIE SEA. 49 rignt, they found themselves at the foot followed the course of the crevasse for of a steep rock, some forty feet in more than ten minutes the youngest of height, up which'they must climb to the guides uttered a hasty exclamation. reach the upper glacier. The only I see something!" cried he. "Someway in which Battisto or my brother thing dark, wedged in the teeth of the could hope to do this, was by the help crevasse, a great way down!" of a rope steadied from below and They all saw it: a mere indistinabove. Two of the guides accordingly guishable mass, almost closed over by clambered up the face of the crag by the ice-walls at their feet. ly brqther notches in the surface, and one remain- offered a hundred francs to the man ed below. The rope was then let who would go down and bring it up. down, and my brother prepared to go They all hesitated. first. As he planted his foot in the first "We don't know what it is," said notch a smothered cry from Battisto one. arrested him. " Perhaps it's only a dead chamois," "Santa MAaria! Signor! Look suggested another. yonder!" Their apathy enraged him. My brother looked, and there, (he " It is no chamois," he said, angrily ever afterward declared), as surely as " It is the body of Christien Baumannl there is a heaven above us all, he saw native of Kfandersteg. And, by HeaChristien Baumann standing in the full yven, if you are all too cowardly te sunlight not a hundred yards distant! make the attempt, I will go down myAlmost in the same moment that my self I" brother recognized him he was gone. The youngest guide threw off his hat lie neither faded, nor sank down, nor and coat, tied a rope about his waist, moved away; but was simply gone as and took a hatchet in his hand. if he had never been. Pale as death, "I will go, Monsieur," said he; and Battisto fell upon his knees and covered without another word suffered himself hiis face with his hands. Mv brother, to be lowered in. My brother turned awe-stricken and speechless, leaned away. A sickening anxiety came upon against the rock, and felt that the him, and presently he heard the dull object of his journey was but too fatally echo of the hatclhet far down in the accomplished. As for the guides, they ice. Then there was a call for another could not conceive what had happened. rope, and then-the men all drew aside "Did you see nothing?" asked my in silence, and my brother saw the brother and Battisto, both together. youngest guide standing once more But the men had seen nothing, and beside the chasm, flushed and tremthe one who had remained below said, bling, with the body of Christien lying " What should I see but the ice and the at his feet. sun?" Poor Christien! They made a rough To this my brother made no other bier with their ropes and alpenstocks, reply than by announcing his intention and carried him, with great difficulty, to have a certain crevasse, from which back to Steinberg. There they got he had not once removed his eyes since additional help as far as Stechelberg, he saw the figure standing on the where they laid him in the char, and so brink, thoroughly explored before he brought him on. to Lauterbrunnen. went a step further, whereupon the two The next day my brother made it his men came down from the top of the sad business to precede the body to &rag, resumed the ropes, and followed Kandersteg, and prepare his friends for my brother incredulously. At the nar- its arrival. To this day, though all row end of the fissure he paused, and these things happened thirty years ago, drove his alpenstock firmly into the ice. he can not bear to recall Marie's deIt was an unusually long crevasse-at spair, or all the mourning that he inno. first a mere crack, but widening gradu- cently brought upon that peaceful valally as' it went, and reaching down to ley. Poor Marie has been dead this unknown depths of dark, deep blue, many a year; and when my brother fringed with long, pendent icicles like last past through the Kander Thal on diamond stalactites. Before they had I his way to the Ghemmi, he saw her 50 A MESSAGE FROM3 THE SEA. grave, beside the grave of Christien "Its considered to blow here," said Baumann, in the village burial-ground. the landlord. -This is my brother's Ghost Story. "Weather gets its young strength The chairman now announced that here," replied the captain; "goes into the clock declared the teetotum spun training for the Atlantic Ocean. Yours out, and that the meeting was dis- are little winds just beginning to feel solved. Yet even then the young fisher- their way and crawl. Make a voyage man could not refrain from once more with me, and I'll show you a grown-up asking his question. This occasioned one out on business. But you haven't the Gentlemel King Arthurs, as they told my friend where he lies." got on their hats and great-coats, evi- "Its the room at the head of the dently to regard him as a young fisher- stairs, before you take the second stairmlan who was touched in his head, and case through the wall," returned the some of them even cherished the idea landlord. "You can't mistake it. It's that the captain was his keeper. a double-bedded room; because there's As no man dared to awake the no other." mighty Parvis, it was resolved that a "The room where the sea-faring man heavy member of the society should fall is?" said the captain. against him as it were by accident, and "The room where the sea-faring man immediately withdraw to a safe distance. is." The experiment was so happily accom- "I hope he mayn't finish telling his plished that Mr. Parvis started to his story in his sleep," remarked the capfeet on the best terms with himself, as tain. "Shall I turn into the room a light sleeper whose wits never left where the sea-faring man is, Alfred?" him, and who could always be broad "No, Captain Jorgan, why should awake on occasion. Quite an airy jo- you? There would be little fear of his cundity sat upon this respectable man waking me, even if he told his whole in consequence; and he rallied the story out." briskest member of the fraternity on "He's in the bed nearest the door," being "a sleepy-head," with an amount said the landlord. "I've been in to of humor previously supposed to be look at him once, and he's sound quite incompatible with his responsible enough. Good-night, gentlemen." circumstances in life. The captain immediately shook hands, Gradually the society departed into with the landlord in quite an enthusithe cold night, and the captain and his astic manner, and having performed young, companion were left alone. The that national ceremony as if he had had captain had so refreshed himself by no opportunity of performing it for a shakinlg hands with every body to an long time, accompanied'his young friend amazing extent that he was in no up stairs. hurry to go to bed. "Something tells me," said the cap"'To-morrow morning," said the cap- tain as they went, "that Mliss Kitty tain, " we must find out the lawyer and Tregarthen's marriage ain't put off for the clergyman here; they are the people long, and that we shall light on what to consult on our business. And I'll we want." be up and out early, and asking ques- "I hope so. When, do you think?" tions of every body I see; thereby pro- "Wa'al, I couldn't just say when, but pagating at least one of the Institutions soon. Here's your room," said the of my native country." captain, softly opening the door and As the captain was slapping his leg, looking in; "and here's the berth of the landlord appeared with two small the sea-faring man. I wonder what candlesticks. like he is. He breathes deep; don't "Your room," said he, "is at the he?" top of the house. An excellent bed, " Sleeping like a child, to judge from but you'll hear the wind." the sound," said the young fisherman. "I've heerd it afore," replied the "Dreaming of home maybe," recaptain. "Come and make a passage turned the captain. "Can't see him. with me, and you shall hear it." Sleeps a deal more wholesomely than A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. 51 Arson Parvis, but a'most as sound; when I heard a dog bark, away in the don't he? Good-night, fellow-traveler." distance, on the right-hand side of me. "Good-night, Captain Jorgan, and Following the sound as well as I could, many, many thanks I" and shouting to the dog, from time to "I'll wait till I'arn'em, boy, afore I time, to set him barking again, I take'em," returned the captain, clap- stumbled up at last against the back of ping him cheerfully on the back. a house; and, hearing voices inside, Pleasant dreams of —you know who!" groped my way round to the door, and When the young fisherman had closed knocked on it smartly with the flat of the door, the captain waited a moment my hand. or two, listening for any stir on the The door was opened by a slip-slop part of the unknown sea-faring man, young hussey in a torn gown; and the But none being audible, the captain first inquiries I made of her discovered uursued the way to his own chamber. to me that the house was an inn. Before I could ask more questions the landlord opened the parlor of the inn and came out. A clamor of voices, and CHAPTER IV. a fine comforting smell of fire and grog and tobacco came out, also, along with THE SEA-FARING MAN. him. "The tap-room fire's out," says the WHo was the Sea-faring Man? And landlord. "You don't think you would what might he have to say for himself? dry more comfortable, like, if you went He answers those questions in his own to bed?" says he, looking hard at me. words: "No," says I, looking hard at him, I begin by mentioning what hap- "I don't." pened on my journey northward, from Before more words were spoken a Falmouth in Cornwall, to Steepways in jolly voice hailed us from inside the Devonshire. I have no occasion to say parlor. (being here) that it brought me last "What's the matter, landlord?" says night to Lanrean. I had business in the jolly voice. "Who is it?" hand w1hich was part very serious, and "A sea-faring man, by the looks of part (as I hoped) very joyful — nd this him," says the landlord, turning round business, you will please to renember, from me, and speaking into the parlor. was the cause of my journey. " Let's have the sea-faring man in," After landing at Falmouth I traveled says the voice. "Let's vote him free on foot; because of the expense of of the Club, for this night only." riding, and because I had anxieties A lot of other voices thereupon said, heavy on my mind, and walking was' Hear! hear!" in a solemn manner, as the best way I knew of to lighten them. if it was church service. After which The first two days of my journey the there was a hammering, as if it was a weather was fine and soft, the wind trunk-maker's shop. After which the being mostly light airs from south, and landlord took me by the arm, gave me a south and by west. On the third day push into the parlor, and there I was, I took a wrong turning, and had to free of the Club. fetch a long circuit to get right again. The change from the fog outside to Toward evening, while I was still on the warm room and the shining candles the road, the wind shifted; and a sea- so completely dazed me, that I stood fog came rolling in on the land. I blinking at the company more like an went on through, what I ask leave to owl than a man. Ulpon which the comcall, the white darkness; keeping the pany again said, "Hear! hear!" Upon sound of the sea on my left hand for a which I returned for answer, "Hear I guide, and feeling those anxieties of hear I"-considering those words to mine before mentioned, pulling heavier mean, in the Club's language, someand heavier at my mind, as the fog thing similar to " How-d'ye-do." The thickened and the wet trickled down landlord then took me to a round table my face.. by the fire, where I got my supper, toIt was still early in the evening, gether with the information that my 52 A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. bedroom, when I wanted it, was number ing silence, broke out vehemently with four, up stairs. another new word, and said, " Chair I" I noticed before I fell to with my After which every man suddenly held knife and fork, that the room was full, his peace, and looked at me. and that the chairman at the top of the I did a very foolish thing. Without table was the man with the jolly voice, stopping to take counsel with myself, I and was seemingly amusing the company started off at score, and did just what by telling them a story. I paid more the chairman had bidden me. If they attention to my supper than to what he had waited the whole night long for it, was saying; and all I can now report I should never have told them the story of it is, that his story-telling and my they wanted from me at first, having all eating and drinking both came to an my life been a wretched bad hand at end together. such matters-for the reason, as I take " Now," says the chairman, " I have it, that a story is bound to be sometold my story to start you all. Who thing *which is not true. But when I comes next?" He took up a teetotum, found the company willing, on a sudden, and gave it a spin on the table. When to put up with nothing better than the it toppled over, it fell opposite me; account of my shipwreck (which is not upon which the chairman said, " It's a story at all), the unexpected luck of your turn next. Order I order I I call being let off with only telling the truth on the sea-faring man to tell the second about myself was too much of a tempstory!" He finished the words off with tation for me —so I up and told it. a knock of his hammer; and the Club I got on well enough with the storm, (having nothing else to say, as I sup- and the striking of the vessel, and the pose) tried back, and once again sang strange chance, afterward, which proved out altogether, " Hear I hear I" to be the saving of my life-the assem"I hope you will please to let me bly all listening (to my great surprise) off," I said to the chairman, "for the as if they had never heard any thing of reason that I have got no story to tell." the sort before. But when the necessity "No story to tell!" says he. "A came next for going further than this, sailor without a story! Who ever heard and for telling them what had happened of such a thing? Nobody i" to me after the saving of my life-or, " Nobody," says the Club, bursting to put it plainer, for telling them what out altogether at last with a new word, place I was cast away on, and whlhat by way of a change. company I was cast away inll-the words I can't say I quite relished the chair- died straight off on my lips. For this muai's talking of me as if I was before reason —namely-that those particulars the mast. A man likes his true qua- of my statement made up just that part lity to be known, when he is publicly of it which I couldn't, and durstn't, let spoken to among a party of strangers. out to strangers-no, not if every man I made my true quality known to the among, them had offered me a hundred chairmall and company in these words: pounds apiece, on the spot, to do it! "All men who follow the sea, gen- "Go on!" says the chairman. "vWhat tlemen, are sailors," I said. " But happened next? How did you get on there's degrees aboard ship as well as shore?" asliore. My rating, if you please, is Feeling what a fool I had been to the rating of a second mate." run myself headlong into a scrape, for'.Ay, ay, surely?" says the chairman. want of thinking before I spoke, I now " Where did you leave your ship?" cast about discreetly in my mind for the "At the bottom of the sea,?' I made best means of finishinlg off-hand without answer-which was, I am sorry to say, letting out a word to the company cononily too true. cerning those particulars before men"What " you've been wrecked?" tioned. I was some little time before says he. "Tell us all about it. A seeing my way to this: keeping the shipwreck story is just the sort of story chairman and company, all the while, we like. Silence there all down the waiting for an answer. The Club, table I-silence for the second mate 1" losing patience, in consequence, got The Club, upon this, instead of keep- from staring hard at me, to drumming A MESSAGE FROM TIHE SEA. 69 other side, until after the sea-faring any chance; and that to the captain brother had got hold of the captain's should be consigned the task of preparright hand, and the fisherman brother ing his wife and mother for his restohad got hold of the captain's left hand; ration to this life. and if ever the captain had had his fill "For you see." quoth Captain Jorof hand-shaking, from his birth, to that gan, touching the last head, " it requires hour, he had it then. And presently caution any way, great joys being as up and spoke the two brothers, one at dangerous as great griefs-if not more a time, two at a time, two dozen at a dangerous, as being nmore uncommon time for the bewilderment into which (and therefore less provided against) in they plunged the captain, until he this round world of ours. And besides, gradually hed Hugh Raybrock's deliver- I should like to free my name with the ance made clear to hilm, and also un- ladies, and take you home again at your raveldl the fact that the person referred brightest and luckiest; so don't let's to in the half-obliterated paper was throw away a chance of success." Tregarthen himself. The captain was highly lauded by "Formerly, dear Captain Jorgan," the brothers for his kind interest and said Alfred, "of Lanrean, you recol- foresight. lect? Kitty and her father came to "And now stop I" said the captain, live at Steepways after Hugh shipped coming to a stand-still, and looking on his last voyage." from one brother to the other, with "Ay, ay I" cried the captain, fetch- quite a new rigging of wrinkles about ing a breath. "Now you have me in each eye; "you are of opinion," to the.tow. Then your brother here don't elder, "that you are ra'ather slow?" know his sister-in-law that is to be so " I assure you I am very slow," said much as by name?" the honest HIugh. "Never saw her; never heard of "Wa'al," replied the captain, "I her I" assure you that to the best of my belief "Ay, ay, ay I" cried the captain. I am ra'ather smart. Now, a slow man "Why then we every one go back ain't good at quick business, is he?" together-paper, writer, and all-and That was clear to both. take Tregarthen into the secret we kept " You," said the captain, turning to from him?" the younger brother, "are a little in "Surely," said Alfred, "we can't love; ain't you?" help it now. We must go through "Not a little, Captain Jorgan." with our duty."' "Much or little, you're sort preoccu" Not a doubt," returned the captain, pied; ain't you?" " Give nme an arm apiece, and let us set It was impossible to be denied. this ship-shape." "And a sort preoccupied man ain't So walking up and down in the shrill good at quick business is he?" said the wind on the wild moor, while the captain. neglected breakfast cooled within, the Equally clear on all sides. captain and the brothers settled their "Now," said the captain, "I ain't in course of action. love myself, and I've made many a It was that they should all proceed smart run across the ocean, and I by the quickest means they could secure should like to carry on and go ahead to Barnstaple, and there look over the with this affair of yours and makle a run father's -books and papers in the law- slick through it. Shall I try? Will yer's keeping: as Hugh had proposed you hand it over to ine?" to himself to do if ever he reached They were both delighlited to do so, home. That, enlightened or unenlight- and thanked him heartily. ened, they should then return to Steep- "Good," said the captain, taking out ways and go straight to Mr. Tregarthen, his watch. "This is half past eight and tell him all they knew, and see what A.M., Friday morning. I'll jot that came of it, and act accordingly. Lastly, down, and we'll compute how many that when they got there they should hours we've been out when we run into enter the village with all precautions your mother's post-office. There I The against Hugh's being recognized by entry's made, and now we go ahead&' 70 A MESSAGE FROM TIIE SEA. They went ahead so well that before "So far this run's begun with a fair the Barnstal)le lawyer's office was olpen wind and a prosperous; for don't vyo next morning the captain was sitting see that all this agrees with that dutiwhistling on the step of the door, wait- ful trust, in his father maintained by l.ng for the clerk to come down the the slow member of the Raybrock fastreet with his key and open it. But mily?" instead of the clerk there came the Whether the brothers had seen it naster, with whom the captain frater- before or no, they saw it now. Not nized on the spot to an extent that that the captain gave them much time utterly confounded him. to contemplate the state of things at As he personally knew both Hugh their ease, for he instantly whipped and Alfred, there was no difficulty in them into a chaise again, ai)d bore them obtaining immediate access to such of off to Steepways. Although the afterthe father's papers as were in his keep- noon was but just beginning to decline ing. These were chiefly old letters and when they reached it, and it was broad cash accounts: from which the captain, daylight, still they had no difficulty, by with a shrewdness and dispatch that dint of muffling the returned sailor up, left the lawyer far behind, established and ascending the village rather than with perfect clearness, by noon, the fol- descending it, in reaching Tregarthen's lowing particulars: cottage unobserved. Kitty was not That, one Lawrence Clissold had visible, and they surprised Tregarthen borrowed of the deceased, at a time sitting writing in the small bay-window when he was a thriving young trades- of his little room. man in the town of Barnstaple, the sum "Sir," said the captain, instantly of five hundred pounds. That, he had shaking hands with him, pen and all, borrowed it on the written statement "'I'm glad to see you, sir. How do that it was to be laid out in furtherance you do, sir? I told you you'd think of a speculation which he expected better of me by-and-by, and I congrawould raise him to independence; he tulate you on going to do it." being, at the time of writing that letter, Here the captain's eye fell on Tom no more than a clerk in the house of Pettifer Ho, engagedin preparing some Dringworth Brothers, America Square, cookery at the fire. London. That, the money was bor- "That critter," said the captain, rowed for a stipulated period; but that smiting his leg, "is a born steward, when the term was out the aforesaid and never ought to have been in any speculation failed, and Clissold was other way of life. Stop where you without means of repayment. That, are, Tom, and make yourself useful. hereupon, he had written to his creditor, Now, Tregarthen, I'm going to try a in no very persuasive terms, vaguely chair." requesting further time. That, the cre- Accordingly, the captain drew one ditor had refused this concession, de- close to him, and went on: claring that he could not afford delay. "This loving member of the RayThat, Clissold then paid the debt, ac- brock family you know, sir. This slow companying the remittance of the mo- member of the same family, you don't ney with an angry letter describing it know, sir. Wa'al, these two are broas having been advanced by a relative thers-fact I Hugh's come to life again, to save him from ruin. That, inI ac- and here he stands. Now, see here, knowledging the receipt, Raybrock had my friend I You don't want to be told cautioned Clissold to seek to borrow that he wag cast away, but you do want money of him no more, as he would to be told (for there's a purpose in it) never so risk money again. that he was cast away with another Before the lawyer the captain said man. That man by name was Lawnever a word in reference to these dis- rence Clissold." coveries. But when the papers had At the mention of this name Trebeen put back in their box, and he and garthen started and changed color. his two companions were well out of " What's the matter?" said the captain. the office, his rig'-t leg suffered for it, "He was a fellow-clerk of mine and he said: thirty-five-and-thirty-years ago." A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. 71 " True," said the captain, immedi- book. "Clissold, being questioned, ately catching at the clue: "Dring- stood upon his perfect clearness in the worth Brothers, America Square, Lonl- matter, and emphatically declared that don City." he asked no better than to be tested by The other started again, nodded, and'Tregarthen's book.' My book was said, " That was the House." examined, and the entry of five hundred " Now," pursued the captain, "be- pounds was not there." tween those two men cast away there "How not there," said the captain, arose a mystery concerning the round "when you made it yourself?" sum of five hundred pound." Tregarthen continued: Again Tregarthen started, changing "I was then questioned. Had I color. Again the captain said, " What's made the entry? Certainly I had. The the matter?" House produced my book, and it was As Tregarthen only answered,- not there. I could not deny my book; "Please to go on," the captain recount- I could not deny my writing. I knew ed, very tersely and plainly, the nature there must be forgery by some one; but of Clissold's wanderings on the barren the writing was wonderfully like mine, island, as he had condensed them in his and I could impeach no one if the House mind from the sea-faring man. Tregar- could not. I was required to pay the then became greatly agitated during this money back. I did so; and I left the recital, and at length exclaimed House, almost broken-hearted, rather " Clissold was the man who ruined than remain there-even if I could have me! I have suspected it for many a done so-with a dark shadow of suslong year, and now I know it." picion always on me. I returned to "And how," said the captain, draw- my native place, Lanrean, and remained ing his chair still closer to Tregarthen, there, clerk to a mine, until I was apand clapping his hand upon his shoul- pointed to my little post here." der, " how may you know it?" " I well remember," said the captain, " When we were fellow-clerks," re- " that I told you that if you had had no plied Tregarthen, " in that London experience of ill-judgments on deceivirg House, it was one of my duties to enter appearances, you were a lucky man. daily in a certain book an accouit of You went hurt at that, and I see why. the sums received that day by the firm, I'm sorry." and afterward paid into the banker's. " Thus it is," said Tregarthen. " Of One memorable day-a Wednesday, my own innocence I have of course been the black day of my life —among the sure; it has been at once my comfort sums I so entered was one of five hun- and my trial. Of Clissold I have aldied pounds." ways had suspicions almost amounting "I begin to matke it out,'" said the to certainty; but they have never been captain. " Yes?" confirmed until now. For my daugh" It was one of Clissold's duties to ter's sake and for my own I have carried copy from this entry a memorandum of this subject in my own heart, as the only the sums which the clerk employed to secret of my life, and have long believed go to the bankers paid in there. It that it would die with me." was my duty to hand the money to Clis- " Wa'al, my good sir," said the capsold; it was Clissold's to hand it to tain, cordially, "the present question is, the clerk, with that memorandum of his and will be long, I hope, concerning writing. On that Wednesday I entered living, and not dying. Now, here are a sun of five hundred pounds received. our two honest friends, the loving RayI handed that sum, as I handed the brock and the slow. Here they stand, other sums in the day's entry, to Clis- agreed on one point, on which I'd back sold. I was absolutely certain of it at'em round the world, and right across it the time; I have been absolutely certain from north to south, and then again of it ever since. A sumI of five hun- from east to west, and through it, from dred pounds was afterward found by your deepest Cornish mine to China. the House to have been that day want- It is, that they will never use this same ing from the I ag, from Clissold's memlo- so-often-mentioned sum of money, and randmin, and from the entries in my that restitution of it must be made to 72 A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. you. These two, the loving member However, he ga te nothing, but took and the slow, for the sake of the right up his stewarl's hat instead, and stood and of their fatIer's memory, will have looking into it, as if he had just come it ready for you to-morrow. Take it, into Church. After that he roamed and ease their minds and mine, and end again, and again said, "This desk, beanmost unfort'nate transaction." longing to this House of Dringworth Tregarthen took the captain by the Brothers, America Square, London hand, and gave his hand to each of the City —" young men, but positively and finally Mr. Pettifer still strangely moved, answered No. le said, they trusted and now nore moved than before, cut to his word, and he was glad cf it, and the captain off as he backed across the at rest in his mind; hut there was no room, and bespalie him thus: proof, and the money must remain as it " Captain Jorgan, I have been wishwas. All were very earnest over this: ful to engage your attention, but I and earnestness in men, when they are couldn't do it. I am unwilling to interright and true, is so impressive, that rupt, Captain Jorgan, but I must do it. Mr. Pettifer deserted his cookery and I know something about that house." looked on quite moved. The captain stood stock-still, and "' And so," said the captain, "so we looked at him-with his (Mr. Pettifer's) come-as that lawyer-crittur over yon- hat under his arm. der where we were this morning, might "You're aware,'; pursued his stew-to mere proof; do we? We must ard, "that I was once in the broking have it; must we? How? From this business, Captain Jorgan?" Clissold's wanderings, and from what "I was aware," said the captain, you say it ain't hard to make out that "that you had failed in that calling, there was a neat forgery of your writing. and in half the businesses going, Tom." committed by the too smart Rowdy that! "Not quite so, Captain Jorgan; but was grease and ashes when I made his I failed in the broking business. I was acquaintance, and a substitution of a partners with my brother, sir. There forged leaf in your book for a real and was a sale of old office furniture at true leaf torn out. Now, was that real Dringworth Brothers when the house and true leaf then and there destroyed? was moved from America Square, and No-for says he,-in his drunken way, he me and my brother made what we call slipped it into a crack in his own desk, in the trade a Deal there, sir. And I'll because you came into the office before make bold to say, sir, that the only thing there was time to buin it-and could I ever had from my brother, or from never get back to it arterwards. Wait any relation-for my relations have a bit. Where is that desk now? Do mostly taken property from me instead you consider it likely to be in America of giving me any-was an old desk we Square, London City?" bought, at that same sale, with a crack Tregarthen shook his head. in it. My brother wouldn't have given " The House has not, for years, trans- me even that, when we broke partneracted business in that place. I have ship, if it had been worth any thing." heard of it and read of it, as removed, W- " here is that desk now?" said the enlarged, every way altered. Things captain. alter so fast in these times." "Well, Captain Jorgan," replied the "You think so," returned the cap- steward, "I couldn't say for certain tain, withcompassion; "but youshould where it is now; but when I saw it come over and see me afore you talk last-which was last time we were outabout that. W'a'al, now. This desk, ward bound-it was at a very nice this paper-this paper, this desk," said lady's at Wapping, along with a little he captain, ruminating and walking chest of mine which was detained for a about, and looking, in his uneasy ab- small matter of a bill owing." straction, into Mr. Pettifer's hat on a The captain, instead of paying that table, among other things. "This desk, rapt attention to his steward which was this paper-this paper, this desk," the rendered by the other three persons captain continued, musing and roaming present, went to Church again, in reabout the room, "I'd give —" spect of the steward's hat. And a A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. 73 most especially agitated and memorable availed himself of it is all that remains face the captain produced from it, after to tell. a short pause. Deeply delighted with his trust, and "Now, Tom," said the captain, "I putting his heart into it, he raised the spoke to you, when we first came here, latch of the post-office parlor where respecting your constitutional weakness Mrs. Raybrock and the young widow on the subject of sun-stroke." sat, and said: "You did, sir." " May I come in?" "Will my slow friend," said the cap- "Sure you may, Captain,organ!" tain, " lend me his arm, or I shall sink replied the old lady. "And good right back'ards into this blessed stew- reason you have to be free of the louse, ard's cookery? Now, Tomn," pursued though you have not been too well used the captain, when the required assistance in it by some who ought to have known was given, " on your oath as a steward, better. I ask your pardon." didn't you take that desk to pieces to "No you don't, ma'am," said the make a better one of it, and put it captain, "for I won't let you. Wa'al together fresh —or something of the to be sure!" By this time he had taken kind?'" a chair on the hearth between them. "On my oath I did, sir,'" replied the "Never felt such an evil spirit in the steward. whole course of my life I There I I " And by the blessing of Heaven, my tell you I I could a'most have cut my friends, one and all," cried the captain, own connection-Like the dealer in my radiant with joy-" of the Heaven that country, away West, who, when he had put it into this Tomr Pettifer's head to let himself be outdone in ea bargain, take so much care of his head against said to himself,'Now I tell you what I the bright sun-he lined hisbhat with the I'll never speak to you again.' And original leaf in Tregarthen's writing- he never did, but joined a settlement of and here it is!" oysters,. and translated the multiplicaWith that the captain, to the utter tion-table into their language. Which destruction of Mr. Pettifer's favorite is a fact that can be proved. If you doubt' hat, produced the book-leaf, very much it, mention it to any oyster you come worn, but still legible, and gave both across, and see if he'll have the face to his legs such tremendous slaps that they contradict it." were heard far off in the bay, and never He took the child from her mother's accounted for., lap and set it on his knee. " A quarter past five P.M.," said the " Not a bit afraid of me now, you captain, pulling out his watch, "and see. Knows I am fond of small people. tlhat's thirty-three hours and a quarter I have a child, and she's a girl, and I,m all, and a pritty run i" sing to her sometimes." How they were all overpowered with "What do you sing?" asked Marielight and triumph; how the money garet. %vas restored, then and there, to Tre- "Not a long song, my dear. tarthen'; how Tregarthen, then and. there, gave it all to his daughter; Silas Jorgan Row the captain undertook to go to Played the organ. 0rilaewor th Brothers and reestablish tiringworth Brothers and re-establish That's about all, And sometimes I tell tle r eputation of their forgotten old w her stories. Stories of sailors supposed clerk; how Kitty came in, and was to be lost, and recovered after all hope nearly torn to pieces, and the marriage was abandoned." Here the captain was reappointed, needs not to be told. was abandoued." ere the eaptai n Nor how she and the young fishermang: went home to the post-office to prepare "Silas Jorgan the way for the calptainl's coming, Iy Played the organ." - declaring him to be the mightiest of men who had made all their fortunes- -repeating it with his eyes on the fire, and then dutifully withdrew together, as he softly danced the child on his in order that he migrht have tlie domestic knee. For he felt that Margaret had coast entitely to hiNmself. H o,, he stopped working. 74 A MESSAGE FROM TIlE SEA. "Yes," said the captain, still looking he's no further off tlan his own native at the fire. "I make up stories and country. To tell von the truth, he's tell'ern to that child. Stories of ship- no further off than Falmouth. Indeed, wreck on desert island, and long delay I doubt if he's quite so fur. Indeed, in getting back to civilized lands. It if you was sure you could bear it nicely, is to stories the like of that, mostly, and I was to do no more than whistle that for him-" Silas Jorgan Tile captain's trust was discharged. Plays the organ." A rush camne, and they were all togethler again. There was no light in the room but This was a fine opportunity for Tom the light of the fire i for the shades of Pettil'er to appear with a tumbler of nighlt were on the village, and the stars cold water, and he prlesently appeared had begun to peep out of the sky one with it, and administered it to the laby one, as the houses of the village dies: at the same time soothing them, peeped out from among the foliage and composing their dresses, exactly as when the night departed. The captain if they had been passengers crossing felt that Margaret's eyes were upon the Channel. The extent to which the him, and thought it discreetest to keep captain slapped his legs, when Mr. his own eyes on the fire. Pettifer acquitted himself of this act of "Yes; I make'em up," said the stewardship, could have been thocaptain. "I make up stories of bro- roughly appreciated by no one but thers brought together by the good himself; inasmuch as he must have providence'of Got. Of sons brought slapped them black and blue, and they back to mothers-husbands brought must have smarted tremendously. back to wives —fathers raised from the He couldn't stay for the wedding, deep, for little children like herself." having a few appointments to keep at Margaret's touch was on his arm, the irreconcilable distance of about and he could not choose but look round four thousand miles. So next morning now. Next moment her hand moved all the village cheered him up to the imploringly to his breast, and she was level ground above, and there he shook on her knees before him-supporting hands with a complete Census of its the mother, who was also kneeling.'population, and invited the whole, "What's the matter?" said the cap- without exception, to come and stay tain. "What's the matter? several months with him at Salem, Mass., U. S. And there, as lie stood Silas Jorgan on the spot where he had seen that Played the-" little golden picture of love and parting, and firom which he could" that Their looks and tears were too much morning contemplate another golden for him, and he could not finish the picture with a vista of golden years in song, short as it was. it, little Kitty put her arms round his "Mistress Margaret, you have borne neck, and kissed him on both his ill fortune well. Could you bear good, bronzed cheeks, and laid her pretty fortune equally well, if it was to come?" face upon his storm-beaten breast, in "I hope so. I thankfully and hum- sight of all-ashamed to have called bly and earnestly hope so I" such a noble capltain names. And "Wa'al, my dear," said the captain, there the captain waved his hat over "p'raps it has come. He's-don't be his head three final times; anld there he frightened-shall I say the word?" was last seenl, going away accompanied "Alive?" by Tom Pettifer Ho, and carrying his "Yes I" hands in his pockets. And there, beThe thanks they fervently addressed fore that ground was softened with the to Heaven were again too much for fallen leaves of three more sulnmmers, a the captain, who openly took out his rosy little boy took his first unlsteady handkerchief and dried his eyes. run to a fair young mother's breast, "He's no further off," resumed the and the name of that infant fisherman captain, "than my country. Indeed, was Jorgan Raybrock. THE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVEIER. &.Low me to introduce myself-first, many little thiihgs and some great things, negatively,. which, because they interest me, I think No landlord is my friend and brother, may interest others. no chambermaid loves me, no waiter These are my brief credentials as the worships me, no boots admires and en- Uncommercial Traveler. Business is vies me. No round of beef or tongue business, and I start. or ham is expressly cooked for me, no pigeon-pie is especially made for me, no NEVER had I seen a year going out, hotel-advertisement is personally ad- or going on, under quieter circumstances. dressed to me, no hotel-room tapestried Eighteen hundred and fifty-niine had but with great coats and railway-wrappers is another day to live, and truly its end set apart for me, no house of public en- was Peace on that sea-shore that morntertainment in the United Kingdom ing. greatly cares for my opinion of its brandy So settled and orderly was every thing or its sherry. When I go upon my seaward, in the bright light of the sun journeys, I am not usually rated at a low and under the transparent shadows of figure in the bill; when I come home the clouds, that it was hard to imagine from my journeys, I never get any the bay otherwise, for years past or to commission. I know nothing about come, than it was that very day. The prices, and should have no idea, if I tug-steamer-lying a little off the shore, were put to it, how to wheedle a man the Lighter lying still nearer to the into ordering something he doesn't shore, the boat alongside the Li'lhter, want As a towii traveler, I an never the regularly turning windlass aboard to be seen driving a vehicle externally the Lighter, the methodical figures at like a young and volatile pianoforte van, work, all slowly and regularly heaving and internally like an oven in which a up and down with the breathing of the number of flat boxes are baking in lay- sea, all seemed as much a part of the naers. As a,country traveler, I am rarely ture of the place as the tide itself. The to be fci nd in a gig, and am never to be tide was on the flow, and had been for encountered by a pleasure train, waiting some twc hours and a half; there was on the platform of a branch station, a slight obstruction in the sea, within a quite a Druid in the midst of a light few yards of my feet; as if the stump of Stonehenge of samples. a tree, with earth enough about it to And yet-proceeding now, to intro- keep it from lying horizontally on the duce myself positively-I am both a water, had slipped a little from the town traveler and a country traveler, land —and as I stood upon the beach and am always on the road. Figura- and observed it dimpling the light swell tively speaking, I travel for the great that was coming in, I cast a stone over house of Human Interest Brothers, and it. hIe rather a large connection in the So orderly, so quiet, so regular-the fancy goods way. Literally speaking, rising and falling of the tug-steamer, the I am always wandering here and there Lighter, and the boat-the turning of from my rooms in Covent-garden, Lon- the windlass-the coming in of the tide don-now about the city streets: now, -that I myself seemed, to my own about the country by-roads-seeing thinking, any thing but new to the spot 76 THE UNCOMHE i. AL TRAVELER. Yet, I had never seen it in my life, a and roast beef, to the destruction of minute befi)re, and had traversed two their frail chimney. Cast up among tho hundred miles to get at it. That very stones and boulders of the beach, were morning I had come bowling clown, and great spars of the lost vessel, and masses struggling up, hill-countryroads; looking of iron twisted by the fury of the sea back at snowy summits; meeting cour- into the strangest forms. The timber teous peasants, well to do, driving fat was already bleached and the iron rusted, pigs and cattle to market; noting the and even these objects did no violence neat and thrifty dwellings, with their un- to the prevailing air the whole scene usual quantity of clean white linen, wore, of having been exactly the same drying on the bushes; having windy for years and years. weather, suggested by every cotter's lit- Yet, only two short months had gone, tie rick, with its thatch, straw-ridged and since a man, living on the nearest hlillextra straw-ridged into overlapping top overlooking the sea, being blown compartments, like the back of a rhino- out of bed at about daybreak by the ceros. Had I not given a lift of four- wind that had begun to strip his roof teen miles to the Coast-Guardsman (kit off, and getting upon a ladder with his and all), who was coming to his spell of nearest neighbor to construct some temrnduty, there, and had we not just now porarydevice for keeping his house over parted company? So it was; but the his head, saw, from the ladder's elevajourney seemed to glide down into the tion as he looked down by chance toplacid sea, vyith other chafe and trouble, ward the shore, some dark troubled andforthe momentnothingwassocalmly object close in with the land. And he and monotonously real underthe sunlight and the other, descending to the beach, as the gentle rising and falling of the water and finding the sea mercilessly beating with its freight, the regular turning of over a great broken ship, had clambered the windlass aboard the Lighter, and the up the stony ways like staircases withslight obstruction so very near my feet. out stairs, on which the wild village O reader, haply turning this page hangs in little clusters, as fruit hangs by the fireside at home and hearing the on boughs, and had given the alarm. night wind rumble in the chimney, that And so, over the hill-slopes, and past slight obstruction was the upper most the waterfall, and down the gullies where fragment of the wreck of the Royal the land drains off into the ocean, the Charter, Australian trader and passenger scattered quarrymen and fishermen inship,homeward bound that struck here on habiting that part of Wales had come the terrible morning of the twenty-sixth running to the dismal sight-their clerof last October, broke into three parts, gyman among them. And as they stood went down with her treasure of at least in the leaden morning, stricken with five hundred human lives, and has never pity, leaning hard against the wind, stirred since I their breath and vision often failing as From which point, or from which, she the sleet and spray rushed at them from drove ashore, stern foremost; on which the ever forming and dissolving mounside, or on which, she passed the little tains of sea, and as the wool which was Island in the bay, for ages henceforth to a part of the vessel's cargo blew in with be aground certain yards outside her; the salt foam and remained upon the these are rendered bootless questions land when the foam melted, they saw by the darkness of that night and the the ship's life-boat put off from one of darkness of death. icree she went down. the heaps of wreck; and first, there Even as I stood on the beach, with were three men in her, and in a moment the -words " -ere slie went down!" in she capsized, and there were but two; my ears, a diver in his grotesque dress, and again, she was struck by a vast dipped heavily over the side of the boat mass of water, and there was but one; alongside the Lighter, and dropped to and again, she was thrown bottom upthe bottom. On the shore by the water's ward, and that one, with his arm stuck edge, was a rough teiit, made of frag- through the broken planks and waving ments of wreck, where other divers and as if for tle help that could never reach workmen sheltered themselves, and where him, went down into the deep. they had kept Christmas. day with rum It was the clergyman himself from THE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. 77 whom I heard this, while I stood on It was the kind and wholesome face.the shore, looking in his kind wholesome I have made mention of as being then face as it turned to the spot where the beside me,.,that I had purposed to myboat had been. The' divers were down self to see, when I left home for Wales. then, and busy. They were "lifting" I had heard of that clergyman, as having to-day, the gold found yesterday —some buried many scores of the shipwrecked five-and-twenty thousand pounds. Of people; of his having opened his house three hundred and fifty thousand pounds and heart to their agonized friends; of worth of gold, three hundred thousand his having used a most sweet and papounds worth, in round numbers, was tient diligence for weeks and weeks, in at that time recovered. The great bulk the performance of t4e forlornest offices of the remainder was surely and steadily that Man can render to his kind; of his coming up. Some loss of sovereigns having most tenderly and thoroughly.'there would be, of course; indeed, at devoted himself to the dead, and to first, sovereigns had drifted in with the those who were sorrowing for the dead. sand, and been scattered far and wide I had said to myself, " In the Christmas over the beach, like sea-shells; but most season of the year, I should like to see other golden treasure would be found. that man!" And he had swung the As it was brought up, it went aboard gate of his little garden in coming but the Tug steamer, where good account to meet me, not half an hour ago. was taken of it. So tremendous had So cheerful of spirit, and guiltless the force of the sea been when it broke of affectation-as true practical Christhe ship, that it had beaten one great tianity ever is!-I read more of the New ingot of gold, deep into a strong and Testament in the fresh frank face going heavy piece of her solid iron-work: in up the village beside me, in five minwhich, also, several loose sovereigns utes, than I have read in anathematizing that the ingot had swept in before it, discourses (albeit put to press with enorhad been found, as firmly imbedded as mous flourishing of trumpets), in all my though the iron had been liquid when life. I heard more of the Sacred Beook they were forced there. It had been in the cordial voice that had nothing to remarked of such bodies come ashore, say about its owner, than in all the too, as had been seen by scientific men, would-be celestial pairs of bellows that that they had been stunned to death, have ever blown conceit at me. and not suffocated. Observation, both We climbed toward the little church, of the internal change that had been at a cheery pace, among the loose stones, wrought in them, and of their external the deep mud, the wetcoarse grass, the expression, showed death to have been outlying water, and other obstructions thus merciful and easy. The report from which frost and snow had lately was brotlght, while I was holding such thawed. It was a mistake (my friend discourse on the beach, that no more was glad to tell me, on the way) to supbodies had come ashore since last night. pose that the peasantry had shown any It began to be very doubtful whether superstitious avoidance of the drowned; many more would be thrown up until on the whole, they had done very well, the northeast winds of the early spring and had assisted readily. Ten shillings set in. Moreover, a great number of had been paid for the bringing of each the passengers, and particularly the body up to the church, but the way was second-class womlen-passengers, were steep, and a horse and a cart (in which known to have been in the middle of it was wrapped in a sheet) were necesthe ship when she parted, and thus the sary, and three or four men, and, all collapsing wreck would have fallen upon things considered, it was not a great themn after yawning open, and would price. The people were none the richer keep them down. A diver made known, for the wreck, for it was the season of even then, that he had come upon the the herring-shoal-and who could cast body of a man, andl had sought to re- nets for fish, and find dead men and lease it from a great superincumbent women in the draught? weight; but that, finding -he could not He had the church keys in his hand, do so without mutilating the remains, and opened the churchyard gate, and he had left it where it was opened the church door; and we went in. 78 TIHE UNCOMIMERCIAL TRA.VELER. It is a little church of great antiqui- of all that lay in the church, would be ty; there is reason to believe that some led in blindfold. Conducted to the spot church has occupied the spot, these with many compassionate words, and thousand years or more. The pulpit encouraged to look, she would say, with was gone, and other things usually be- a piercing cry "This is my boy!" and longing to the church were gone, owing drop insensible on the insensible figure. to its living congregation having de- He soon observed that in somle cases serted it for the neighboring school- of women, the identification of person, room, and yielded it up to the dead. though complete, was quite at variance The very Commandments had been with the marks upon the linen; this shouldered out of theic places in led him to notice that even the marks the bringing in of the dead; the upon the linen were sornetimes inconblack wooden tables on which they sistent with one another; and thus he were painted, were askew, and on the came tb understand that they had stone pavement below them, and on the dressed in great haste and agitation, stone pavement all over the church, and that their clothes had become were the marks and stains where the mixed together. The identification of drowned had been laid down. The men by their dress, was rendered exeye, with little or no aid from the ima- tremely difficult, in consequence of a gination, could yet see how the bodies large proportion of them being dressed had been turned, and where the head alike-in clothes of one kind, that is to had been and where the feet. Some say, supplied by slopsellers and outfitfaded traces of the wreck of the Aus- ters, and not made by single garments, tralian ship may be discernible on the but by hundreds. Many of the men stone pavement of this little church, were bringing over parrots, and had rehundreds of years hence, when the dig- ceipts upon them for the price of the ging for gold in Australia shall have birds, others had bills of exchange in long and long ceased out of the land. their pockets, or in belts. Some of Forty-four shipwrecked men and wo- these documents, carefully unwrinkiled men lay here at one time, awaiting bu- and dried, were little less fresh in aprial. Here, with weeping and wailing pearance that day, than the present in every room of his house, my compa- page will be under ordinary circumnion worked alone for hours, solemnly stances, after having been opened three surrounded by eyes that could not see or four times. him, and by lips that could not speak In that lonely place, it had not been to him, patiently examining the tattered easy to obtain even such common comclothing, cutting off buttons, hair, marks modities in towns, as ordinary disinfectfrom linen, any thing that might lead ants. Pitch had been burned in the to subsequent identification, studying church, as the readiest thing at hanld, faces, looking for a scar, a bent finger, and the frying-pan in which it had buba crooked toe, comparing letters sent bled over a brazier of coals was still to him with the ruin about him. "My there, with its ashes. Hard by the dearest brother had bright gray eyes Communion-Table, were some boots and a pleasant smile," one sister wrote. that had been taken off the drowned O poor sister I well for you to be far and preserved-a gold-digger's boot, from here, and keep that as your last cut down the leg for its removal-aremembrance of him! trodden down man's ankle-boot with a The ladies of the clergyman's fanily, buff cloth top-and others-soaked and his wife and two sisters-in-law, came in sandy, weedy and salt. among the bodies often. It grew to From the church, we passed out into be the business of their lives to do so. the churchyard. Here, there lay, at Any new arrival of a bereaved woman that time, one hundred and fo:ty-five would stimulate their pity to compare bodies, that had come ashore ficl-m the the description brought, with the dread wreck. He had buried them, when not realities. Sometimes, they would go identified, in graves contaiining four back, able to say, " I have found him," each. He had numbered each body in or, "I think she lies there." Perhaps a register describing it, and had placed the mourner, unable to bear the sight a corresponding number on each cofin, THE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. 79 and over each grave. Identified bodies who had buried thirty four of the bodies he had buried singly, in private graves, in his own churchyard, and who had In another part of the churchyard. done to them all that his brother had Several bodies had been exhumed from done as to the largaer number-must be the graves of four, as relatives had understood as included in the family. come from a distance and seen his re- He was there, with his neatly-arranged gister; and, when recognized, these had papers, and made no more account of been reburied in private graves, so that his trouble than any body else did. the mourners might erect separate head- Down to yesterday's post outward, my stones over the remains. In all such clergyman alone had written one thoucases he had performed the funeral ser- sand and seventy-five letters to relatives vice a second time, and the ladies of his and friends of the lost people. In the house had attended. There had been absence of all self-assertion, it was only no offense in the poor ashes when they through my now and then delicately were brought again to the light of day; putting a question as the occasion arose, the beneficent Earth had already ab- that I became informed of these things. sorbed' it. The drowned were buried It was only when I had remarked again in their clothes. To supply the great and again, in the church, on the awful sudden demand for coffins, he had got nature of the scene of death he had all the neighboring people handy at been required so closely to familiarize tools, to work the livelong day, and himself with for the soothing of the Sunday likewise. The coffins were' living, that he had casually said, withneatly formed; —I had seen two, wait- out the least abatement of his cheerfuling for occupants, under the lee of the ness, "indeed, it had rendered him ruined walls of a stone hut on the unable for a time to eat or drink more beach, within call of the tent where the than a little coffee now and then, and a Christmas Feast was held. Similarly, piece of bread." one of the graves for four was lying In this noble modesty, in this beautiopen and ready, here, in the church- ful simplicity, in this serene avoidance yard. So much of the scanty space of the least attempt to "improve" an was already devoted to the wrecked peo- occasion which might be supposed to ple, that the villagers had begun to ex- have sunk of its own weight inrto my press uneasy doubts whether they them- heart, I seemed to have happily come, selves could lie in their own ground, in a few steps, from the churchyard with their forefathers and descendants, with its open grave, which was the type by-and-by. The churchyard being but of Death, to the Christian dwelling side a step from the clergyman's dwelling- by side with it, which was the type of house, we crossed to the latter; the Resurrection. I never shall think of white surplice was hanging up near the the former, without the latter. The door, ready to be put on at any time, two will always rest side by side in my for a funeral service. memory. If I had lost any one dear to The cheerful earnestness of this good me in this unfortunate ship, if I made Christian minister was as consolatory, a voyage from Australia to look at the as the circumstances out of which it grave in the churchyard, I should go shone were sad. I never have seen away, thankful to GoD that that house any thing more delightfully genuine was so close to it, and that its shadow than the calm dismissal by himself and by day and its domestic lights by night his household of all they had undergone, fell upon the earth in which its master as a simple duty that was quietly done had so tenderly laid my dear one's head. and ended. In speaking of it, they The references that naturally arose spoke of it with great compassion for out of our conversation, to the descripthe bereaved; but laid no stress upon tions sent down of shipwrecked persons, their own hard share in those weary and to the gratitude of relations and weeks, except as it had attached many fiiends, made me very anxious to see people to them as friends, and elicited some of those letters. I was presently many touching expressions of gratitude. seated before a shipwreck of papers, all This clergyman's brother-himself the bordered with black, and from them I clergyman of two adjoining parishes, made the:foiilowing few extracts. so0 THE UNCOMIMERCIA[ flRAVELER. A molller writes: me, but it is God's hand that afflicts us, REVEREND SIR. Anwongst the many and I try to submit. Some day I may who perished on your shore was num- be able to visit the spot, and see where bered my beloved son. I was only just he lies, and erect a simple stone to his recovering from a severe illness, and memory. Oh I it will be long, long this fearful affliction has caused a before I forget that dreadful night. Is relapse, so that I am unable at present there such a thing in the vi;,initv, or to go to identify the remains of the any shop ill Bangor, to w.. I could loved and lost. My darling son would send for a small picture of MIoelfra or have been sixteen on Christmas-day Llanallgo Church, a spot now sacred next. He was a most amiable and to me? obedient child, early taught the way of Another widow writes: salvation. We fondly hoped that as a I have received your letter this mornBritish seaman he might be an orna- ing, and do thank you most kindly for ment to his profession, but, "it is well;", the interest you have taken about my I feel assured my dear boy is now with dear husband, as well for the sentiments the redeemed. Oh, he did not wish to yours contains, evincing the spirit of a go this last voyage I On the fifteenth Christian who can sympathize for those of October, I received a letter from him who, like myself, are broken down with from Melbourne, date August twelfth; grief. he wrote in high spirits, and in conclu- May God bless and sustain you, and eion he says: "Pray for a. fair breeze, all in connection with you, in this great dear mamma, and I'll not forget to trial. Time may roll on and bear all whistle for it; and, God permitting, I its sons away, but your name as a disshall see you and all my little pets interested person will stand in history, again. Good-by, dear mother-good- and as successive years pass, many a by, dearest parents. Good-by, dear widow will think of your noble conduct, brother." Oh, it was indeed an eternal and the tears of gratitude flow down farewell. I do not apologize for thus many a cheek, the tribute of a thankful writing you, for oh, my heart is very heart, when other things are forgotten sorrowful. for ever. A husband writes: A father writes: MY DEAR KIND SIR. Will you kindly I am at a loss tofind words to suffiinform me whether there are any initials ciently express my gratitude to you for upon the ring and guard you have in your kindness to my son Richard upon possession, found, as the Standard says, the melancholy occasion of his visit to last Tuesday? Believe, me my dear his dear brother's body, and also for sir, when I say that, I cannot express your ready attention in pronouncing my deep gratitude in words sufficiently our beautiful burial service over my for your kindness to me on that fearful poor unfortunate son's remains. God and appalling day. Will you tell me grant that your prayers over himl may what I can do for you, and will you reach the Mercy Seat, and that his soul write me a consoling letter to prevent may be received (through Christ's intermy mind from going astray? cession) into heaven I A widow writes: His dear mother begs me to convey Left in such *a state as I am, my to you her heartfelt thanks. friends and I thought it best that my Those who were received at the dear husband should be buried where clergyman's house, write thus, after he lies, and, much as I should have leaving it.: liked to have had it othezwise, I must DEAR AND NEVER-TO-BE-FORGOTTEN submit. I feel, from all I have heard FRIENDS. I arrived here yesterday of you, that you will see,done decently morning without accident, and am and in order. Little does it signify to about to proceed to my home by railus, when the soul has departed, where way. this poor body lies, lbut we who are left I am overpowered when I think of behind would do all w'e can to show you and your hospitable home. No how we loved them. This is denied words could speak language suited to THE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. 81 myheart. Irefrain. Godrewardyouwith bearinr date from "the Office of the the same measure you have meted with! Chief Rabbi:". I enumerate no names, but embrace REVEREND SIR. I cannot refrain you all. from expressing to you my heartfelt IY BELOVED FRIENDS. This is the thanks on behalf of those of my flock first day that I have been able to leave whose relatives have unfortunately been my bedroom since I returned, which among those who perished at the late will explain the reason of my not writ- wreck of the Royal Charter. You have, ing sooner. indeed, like Boaz, "not left off your If I could only have had my last kindness to the living and the dead." melancholy hope realized in recovering You hiave not alone acted kindly tothe body of my beloved and lamented wards the living by receiving them hosson, I should have returned home some- pitably at your house, and energetically what comforted, and I think I could assisting them in their mournful duty, then have been comparatively resigned. but also towards the dead, by exerting I fear now there is but little pros- yourself to have our co-religionists pect, and I mourn as one without hope. buried in our ground, and according to The only consolation to my distressed our rites. May our heavenly Father mind is in my having been so feelingly reward you for your acts of humanity allowed by you to leave'the matter in and true philanthropy I your hands, by whom I well know that every thing will be done that can be, The "Old Hebrew congregation of according to arrangements made before Liverpool" thus express themselves I left the scene of the awful catastro- through their secretary: phe, both as to the identification of my REVEREND SIR. The wardens of dear son, and also his interment. this congregation have learned with I feel most anxious to hear whether great pleasure that, in addition to those any thing fresh has transpired since I indefatigable exertions, at the scene of left you; will you add another to the the late disaster to the Royal Charter, many deep obligations I am under to which have received universal recogniyou by writing to me? And, should tion, you have very benevolently emthe body of my dear and unfortunate ployed your valuable efforts to assist son be identified, let me hear from you such members of our faith as have immediately, and I will come again. sought the bodies of lost friends to give Words cannot express the gratitude them burial in our consecrated grounds, I feel I owe to you all for your benevo- with the observances and rites prelent aid, your kindness, and your sym- scribed by the ordinances of our relipathy. gion. MY DEARLY BELOVED FRIENDS. I The wardens desire me to take the arrived in safety at my house yesterday, earliest available opportunity to offer and a night's rest has restored and to you, on behalf of our community, tranquilized me. I must again repeat, the expression of their warm acknowthat language has no words by which I ledgments and grateful thanks, and can express my sense of obligation to their sincere wishes for your continued you. You are enshrined in my heart welfare and prosperity. of hearts. A Jewish gentleman writes: I have seen him I and can now REVEREND AND DEAR SIR. I take realize my misfortune more than I have the opportunity of thanking you right hitherto been able to do. Oh, the bit- earnestly for the promptness you disterness of the cup I drink I But I bow played in answering my note with full submissive. God must have done particulars concerning my much-laright. I do not want to feel less, but mented brother, and I also herein beg to acquiesce more simply. to express my sincere regard for the willingness you displayed and for the There were some Jewish passengers facility you afforded for getting the reon board the Royal Charter, and the mains of my poor brother exhumed. gratitude of the Jewish people is feel- It has been to us a most sorrowful and ingly expressed in the following letter, painful event, but when we meet with :82 TIIE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. such friends as yourself, it in a measure, with an effort to delineate the female's somehow or other, abates that mer.tal dress; under which, initials." Another anguish, and makes the suffering so seaman "had, on the lower part of the much easier to be borne. Considering right arm, the device of a sailor and a the circumstances connected with my' female; the man holding the Union poor brother's fate, it does, indeed, ap- Jack with a streamer, the folds of which pear a hard one. Hle had been away waved over her head, and the end of it in all seven years; he returned four was held in her hand. On the upper years ago to see his family. He was part of the arm, a device of Our Lord. then engaged to a very amiable young on the Cross, with stars surrounding lady. He had been very successful the head of the Cross, and one large abroad, and was now returning to fulfill star on the side in Indian ink. Oa the his sacred vow; he brought all his left arm, a flag, a true lover's knot, a property with him in gold, uninsured. face, and initials." This tattooing was WAe heard from him when the ship found still plain, below the discolored stopped at Queenstown, when he was in outer surface of a mutilated arim, when the highest of hope, and in a few short such surface was carefully scraped away hours afterwards all was washed away. with a knife. It is not improbable Mournful in the deepest degree, but that the perpetuation of this marking too sacred for quotation here, were the custom among seamen, may be referred numerous references to those miniatures back to their desire to be identified, if of women worn round the necks of drowned and flung ashore. rough men (and found there after It was some time before I could sever death), those locks of hair, those scraps myself from the many interesting paof letters, those many, many slight me- pers on the table, and then I broke bread morials of hidden tenderness. One and drank wine with the kind family beman cast up by the sea bore about him, ifore left them. As I had brought the prilnted on a perforated lace card, the Coast-guard down, so I took the Postfollowing singular (and unavailing) man back, with his leathern wallet, charm: walking-stick, bugle, and terrier dog. A BLESSING. Many a heart-broken letter he had May the blessing of God await thee. brought to the Rectory House within May the sun of glory shine around thy two months; many a benignantly painsbed; and may the gates of plenty, taking' answer had he carried back. honor, and happiness be ever open to As I rode along, I thought of the thee. May no sorrow distress thy many people, inhabitants of this mother days; may no grief disturb thy nights. country, who would make pilgrimages May the pillow of peace kiss thy cheek, to the little churchyard in the years to and the pleasures of imagination at- come; I thought of the many people in tend thy dreams; and when length of Australia, who would have an interest years makes thee tired of earthly joys, in such a shipwreck, and would find and the curtain of death gently closes their way here when they visit the Old around thy last sleep of human exist- World; I thought of the writers of all ence, may the Angel of God attend thy the wreck of letters I had left upon the bed, and take care that the expiring table; and I resolved to place this little lamp of life shall not receive one rude record where it stands. Convocations, blast to hasten on its extinction. Conferences, Diocesan Epistles, and the like, will do a great deal for ReliA sailor had these devices on his gion, I dare say, and Heaven send they right arm. " Our Saviour on the may I but I doubt if they will ever do Cross, the forehead of the crucifix and their Master's service half so well, in all the vesture stained red; on the lower the time they last, as the Heavens have part of the arm, a man and woman; seen it done in this bleak spot upon the on one side of the Cross, the appear- rugged coast of Wales. ance of a half moon, with a face; on Had I lost the friend of my life, in the the other side, the sun; on the top of wreck of the Royal Charter; had I lost the Cross, the letters I.IH.S.; on the my betrothed, the more than friend of left aiui, a man and woman dancing, my life; had I lost my maiden daughter, TIIE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. 83 had I lost my h.opeful boy, had I lost least notion how to use them, I at last my little child; I would kiss the hands began to file off to the right, toward that worked so busily and gently in the Wapping. church, and say, "None better could l Not that I intended to take boat at have touched the form, though it had Wapping Old Stairs, or that I was golain at home." I could be sure of it, I ing to look at that locality, because I could be thankful for it; I could be con- believe (for I don't) in the constancy tent to leave the grave near the house of the young woman who told her seathe good family pass in and out of every going lover, to such a beautiful old tune, day, undisturbed, in the little church- that she had ever continued the same, yard where so many are so strangely since she gave him the'baccer-box brought together. marked with his name; I am afraid he Without the name of the clergyman usually got the worst of those transacto whom-I hope, not without carrying tions, and was fri'ghtfully taken in. No, comfort to some heart at some time-I I was going to Wapping, because an have referred, my reference would be as Eastern police magistrate had said, nothing. He is the Reverend Stephen through the morning plapers, that there Roose Hughes, of Llanallgo, near Moel- was no classification at the Wapping fra, Anglesey. His brother is the workhouse for women, and that it was a Reverend Hugh Robert Hughes, of disgrace and a shatme and divers other Penrhos Alligwy. hard names, and because I wished to see how the fact really stood. For, MY day's no-business beckoning me that Eastern police magistrates are not to the east end of London, I had turned always the wisest men of the East, may my face to that point of the metropoli- be inferred from their course of procetan compass on leaving Covent-Garden, dure respecting the fancy-dressing and and had got past the India House, pantomime-posturing at St. George's in thinking, in my idle manner of Tippoo- that quarter: which is usually, to disSahib and Charles Lamb, and had got cuss the matter at issue, in a state of past my little wooden midshipman, after mind betokening the weakest perplexity, affectionately patting him on one leg of with all parties concerned and uncon. his knee-shorts for old acquaintance sake, cerned, and, for a final expedient, to and had got past Aldgate Pump, and consult the complainant as to what he had got past the Saracen's Head (with thinks ought to be done with the dean ignominious rash of posting bills dis- fendant, and take the defendant's opinfiguring his swarthy countenance), and ion as to what he would recommend to had strolled up the empty yard of his be done with himself. ancient neighbor the Black or Blue Long before I reached Wapping I Boar, or Bull, who departed this life gave myself up as having lost my way, I don't know when, and whose coaches and, abandoning myself to the narrow are all gone I don't know where, streets in a Turkish frame of mind, reand I had come out again into lied on predestination to bring me somethe ag.e of railways, and I had got how or other to the place I wanted if past Whitechapel Church, and was- I were ever to get there. When I had rather inappropriately for an Uncom- ceased for an hour or *so to take any mercial.Traveler —in the Commercial trouble about the matter, I found myRoad. Pleasantly wallowing in the self on a swing-bridge, looking down abundant mud of that thoroughfare, at some dark locks in some dirty water. and greatly enjoying the huge piles Over against me, stood a creature reof building belonging to the sugar re- motely in the likeness of a young man, finers, the little masts and vanes in with a puffed sallow face, and a figure small back gardens in back streets, the all dirty and shiny and slimy, who may neighboring canals and'docks, the India- have been the youngest son of his filthy vans lumnbering along their stone tram- old father, Thames, or the drowned way, and the pawnbroker's shops where man about whom there was a placard on hard-up MIates had pawned so many the granite post like a large thimble, sexi)anlts and quadrants, that I should that stood between us. have bought a few cheap if I had the I asked this apparition what it called 84 THE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. the- place P? Unto which, it replied, the workhouse gate, where I was wholly with a ghastly grin and with a sound unexpected and quite unknown. like gurgling water in its throat: A very bright and nimble little ma"Mister Baker's trap." tron, with a bunch of keys in her hand, As it is a point of great sensitiveness responded to my request to see the with me on such occasions to be equal to House. I began to doubt whether the thbqntellectual pressure of the conversa- police magistrate was quite right in tion, I deeply considered the meaning his facts, when I noticed her quick acof this speech, while I eyed the appari- tive little figure and her intelligent eyes. tion —then engaged in hugging and The Traveler (the matron intimated) sucking a horizontal iron bar at the should see the worst first. lie was weltop of the locks. Inspiration suggested come to see every thing. Such as it to me that Mr. Baker was the acting was, there it all was. Coroner of that neighborhood. This was the only preparation for our "A common place for suicide," said I, entering " the Foul wards." They were looking down at the locks. in an old building, squeezed away in a "Sue?" returned the ghost, with a corner of a paved yard, quite detached stare. "Yes! And Poll. Likeways from the more modern and spacious Emily. And Nancy. And Jane;" he main body of the workhouse. They sucked the iron between each name; were in a building most monstrously be" and all the bileing. Ketches off their hind the time-a mere series of garrets bonnets or shorls, takes a run, and or lofts, with every inconvenient and headers down here, They does. Always objectionable circumstance in their cona headerin' down here, they is. Like struction, and only accessible by steep one o'clock." and narrow staircases, infamously ill "And at about that hour of the adapted for the passage up-stairs of the morning, I suppose?" sick or down-stairs of. the dead. "Ah!" said the apparition. "They A-bed in these miserable rooms, here an't partickler. Two'ull do for them. on bedsteads, there (for a. change, as I Three. All times'o night. O'ny mind understood it) on the floor, were women you!" Here the apparition rested its in every stage of distress and disease. profile on the bar, and gurgled in a sar- None but those who have attentively castie manner. " There must be somebody observed such scenes, can conce've the comin'. They don't go a headerin' down extraordinary variety of express I.n still here, wen there an't no Bobbynor gen'ral latent under the general monotony and Cove, fur to hear the splash." uniformity of color, attitude, and conAccording to my interpretation of'dition. The form a ilttle coiled up and these words, I was myself a General turned away, as though it had turned Cove, or member of the miscellaneous its back on this world forever; the unpublic. In which modest character, I interested face at once lead-colored and remarked: yellow, looking passively upward from " They are often taken out, are they, the pillow; the haggard month a little and restored?" dropped, the hand outside the coverlet, "I dunno about restored," said the so dull and indifferent, so light and yet apparition, who, for some occult reason, so heavy; these were on every pallet; very much objected to that word; but, when I stopped beside a bed, and "they're carried into the werkiss and put said ever so slight a word to the figfre into a'ot bath, and brought round. But lying there, the ghost of the old charI dunno about restored," said the appa- acter came into the face, and made the rition; " blow that!" —and vanished. Foul ward as various as the fair world. As it had shown a desire to become No one appeared to care to live, but no offensive, I was not sorry to find myself one complained; all who could speak, alone, especially as the "werkiss" it had said that as much was done for them as indicated with a twist of its matted head, could be done there, that the attendance was close at hand. So I left Mr. Ba- was kind and patient, that their sufferker's terrible trap (baited with a scum ing was very heavy, but they had nothat was like the soapy rinsing of sooty thing to ask for. The wretched rooms chimneys), and made bold to ring at were as clean and sweet as it is possible TIIE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. 85 for such rooms to be; they would be- other drops, and sometimes there'll be come a lest-house in a single week, if as many as four or five on'em at once, they were ill-kept. dear me, a rollin' and a tearin', bless I accompanied the brisk matron up you! —this young woman, now, has'em another barlbarous staircse, into a bet- dreadfiil bad.'Z ter kind of loft devoted to the idiotic She turned up this young woman's and imbecile. Tihere was at least Light face with her hand as she said it. This in it, whereas the w ndows in the former young woman was seated on the floor, wards had been like sides of schoolboys pondering, in the foreground of the birdcagres. There was a strong grating afflicted. There was nothing repellant, over the fire here, and, holding a kirt d either in her face or head. Many, apof state on either side of the hearth, parently worse, varieties of epilepsy and separated by the breadth of this grating, hysteria were about her, but she was were two old ladies in a condition of said to be the worst there. When I feeble dignity, which was surely the had spoken to her a little, she still sat very last and lowest reductijn of self- with her face turned up, pondering, and complacency, to be found in this won- a gleam of the mid-day sun shone in derful humanity of ours. They were upon her. evidently jealous of each other, and Whether this young woman, and the passed their whole time (as some people rest of these so sorely troubled, as do, whose fires are not grated) in men- taey sit or lie pondering in their contally disparaging each other, and con- fused dull way, ever get mental glimpses temptuously watching their neighbors. among the motes in the sunlight, of Onie of these parodies on provincial healthy people and healthy things? gentlewomeri was extremely talkativre, Whether this young woman, brooding and expressed a strong desire to atted like this in the summer season, ever the service on Sundays, from which she thinks that somewhere there are trees repr:esented herself to hlave derived the and flowers, even mountains and the greatest interest and consolation when great sea? Whether, not to go so far, allowed that privilege. She gossiped this young woman ever has any dim so well, alid looked altogether so cheery revelation of that young woman-that alnd harmlless, that I began to think this young woman who is not here and never a case for the Eastern magistrate, until I will come here, who is courted, and found that on the last occasion of her at- caressed, aird loved, and has a husbanld, tendinil chalipel, she had secreted a small and bears children, and lives in a home, stick, and had caused some confusion in and who never knows what it is to have the responses by suddenly producing it this lashing and tearing coming upon aned belaborilg the congregation. her? And whether this young woman, So), these two old ladies, separated God help her, gives herself up then, I)y the breadth of the grating-other- anld drops like a coach-horse from the wise they would fly at one another's moon? Cal,)S-sat all day long, suspecting one I hardly knew whether the voices of anlether, and contemplating a world of infant clhildren, penetrating into so fits For every body else in the room hopeless a p)lace, made a sound that was bacd fits, except the wardswoman: an pleasant or painfiul to me. It was someelderly, able-bodied pauperess, with a thing to be reminded that the weary {larg'e u pper lip, and an air of repressing world was not all weary, and was ever tnad saving her strength, as she stood renewing itself; but, this young woman with her hands folded before her, and was a child not long ago, and a child her eyes slowly rolling, biding her time not long hence might be such as she. for catching or holding somebody. This Howbeit, the active step and eye of the civil personage (in whom I regretted to vigilant matron conducted me past the identify a reduced member of my hon- two provincial gentlewomen (whose digorable friend Mrs. Gamp's family) said, nity was ruffled by the children) and "They has'em continiwal, sir. They into the adjacent nursery. drops without no more notice than if There were many babies here, and they was coach-horses dropped from the more than one handsome young mother. moorn, sir. And w'en one drops, an- There were ugly young mothers also, 6 86 THII UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. and sullen. young mothers, and callous matron's hair. "But any place is young mothers. But, the babies had better than this; that's one thing, and not appropriated to themselves any bad be thankful I" expression as yet, and might have been, A laugh of Refractories led by for any thing that appeared to the con- Oakum Head with folded arms-who trary in their soft faces, Princes Impe- originated nothing, but who was in rial, and Princesses Royal. I had the command of the skirmishers outside the pleasure of giving a poetical commis- conversation. sion to the baker's man to make a cake "If any place is better than this," with all dispatch and toss it into the said my brisk guide, in the calllest oven for one red-headed young pauper manner, "it is a pity you left a good and myself, and felt much the better for place when you had one." it. Without that refreshment, I doubt " Ho, no, I didn't, matron," returned if I should have been in a condition for the Chief with another pull at her oakl;".the Refractories," toward whom my um, and a very expressive look at the quick little matron —for whose adapta- enemy's forehead. "Don't say that, tion to her office I had by this time matron,'cos it's lies." conceived a genuine respect-drew me Oakum Head brought up the skirnext, and marshaled me the way that mishers again, skirmished, and retired. I was going. "And i warn't a going," exclaimed The Refractories were picking oak- Refractory Two, "though I was in one um, in a small room giving on a yard. place for as long as four year —I warn't They sat in line on a form, with their a going fur to stop in a place that backs to a window; before them, a warn't fit for me-there I And where table, and their work. The oldest the fam'ly warn't'spectable charactersRefractory was, say twenty; youngest there! And where I fort'nately or Refractory, say sixteen. I have never hunfort'nately found that the people yet ascertained, in the course of my warn't what they pretended to make uucommercial travels, why a Refractory theirselves out to be —there! And habit should affect the tonsils and where it wasn't their faults, by chalks, uvula; but, I have always observed if I warn't made bad and ruinatedthat Refractories of both sexes and Eah!" every grade, between a Ragged School During this speech, Oakum Head and the Old Bailey, have one voice, in had again made a diversion Kwith the which the tonsils and uvula gain a dis- skirmishers, and had again withdrawn. eased ascendency. The Uncommercial Traveler ventured " Five pound indeed! I hain't a to remark that he supposed Chief Regoing fur to pick five pound," said the fractory and Number One, to be the Chief of the Refractories, keeping time two young women who had been taken to herself with her head and chin. before the magistrate? "More than enough to pick what we "YesI" said the Chief, "we bari picks now, in sitch a place as this, and and the wonder is, that a pleeseman an't on wot we gets here!"'ad in now, and we took off agen. You (This was in acknowledgment of a can't open your lips here, without a'delicate intimation that the amount of pleeseman. " work was likely to be increased. It Number Twolaughed (very uvularly), certainly was not heavy then, for one and the skirmishers followed suit. Refractory had already done her day's " I'm sure I'd be thankful," protested task-it was barely two o'clock-and the Chief, looking sideways at the Urlwas sitting behind it, with a head commercial, "if I could be got into a exactly matching it.) place, or got abroad. I'm sick and " A pretty Ouse this is, matron, ain't tired of this precious Ouse, I am, with it?" said Refractory Two, "where a reason." /pleeseman's called in, if a gal says a So would be, and so was, Number word 1" Two. So would be, and so was, "And wen you're sent to prison for Oakum Head. So would be, and so nothink or les!' said the Chief, tug- were, Skirmishers. ging at her oakum, as if it were the The Uncommercial took the liberty TIHE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. 87 of hinting that he hardly thought it ceiving." As a rule, they made no at. probable that any lady or gentleman in tempt to talk to one another, or to look want of a likely young domestic of re- at the visitor, or to look at any thing, tiring manners, would be tempted into but sat silently working their mouths, the engagement of either of the two like a sort of poor old Cows. In some leading Refractories, on her own presen- of these wards, it was good to see a tation of herself as per sample. few green plants; in others, an isolated "It ain't no good being nothink else Refractory acting as nurse, who did here," said the Chief. well enough in that capacity, when The Uncommercial thought it might separated from her compeers; every be worth trying. one of these wards, day room, night "Oh no it ain't," said the Chief. room, or both combined, was scrupu"Not a bit of good," said Number lously clean and fresh. I have seen as Two. many such places as most travelers in "And I'm sure I'd be very thankful my line, and I never saw one such, to be got into a place, or got abroad," better kept. said the Chief. Among the bedridden there was "And so should I," said Number great patience, great reliance on the Two. " Truly thankful, I should." books under the pillow, great faith in Oakum Head then rose, and an- GoD. All cared for sympathy, but nounced as an entirely new idea, the none much cared to be encouraged mention of which profound novelty with hope of recovery; on the whole, might be naturally expected to startle I should say, it was considered rather a her unprepared hearers, that she would distinction to have a complication of be very thankful to be got into a place, disorders, and to be in a worse way or got abroad. And, as if she had then than the rest. From some of the winsaid, " Chorus, ladies I" all the Skir- dows the river could be seen with all mishers struck up to the same purpose. its life and movement; the day was We left them, thereupon, and began a bright, but I came upon no one who long, long walk among the women who was looking out. were simply old and infirm; but when- In one large ward, sitting by the fire ever, in the course of this same walk, I in arm-chairs of distinction, like the looked out of any high window that President and Vice of the good comcommanded the yard, I saw Oakum pany, were two old women, upward Head and all the other Refractories of ninety years of age. The younger looking out at their low window for of the two, just turned ninety, was me, and never failing to catch me, the deaf, but not very, and could easily be moment I showed my head. made to hear. In her early time she In ten minutes I had ceased to be- had nursed a child, who was now anlieve in such fables of a golden time as other old woman, more infirm than heryouth, the prime of life, or a hale old self, inhabiting the very same chamber. age.\ In ten minutes all the lights of She perfectly understood this when the wonrankind seemed'to have been blown matron told it, and, with sundry nods ouV, and nothing in that way to be left and motions of her forefinger, pointed this vault to brag of, but the flickering out the woman in question. The elder and expiring snuffs. of this pair, ninety-three, seated before And what was very curious, was, that an illustrated newspaper (but not readchese dim old women had one company ing it), was a bright-eyed old soul, notion which was the fashion of the really not deaf, wonderfully preserved, place. Every old woman who became and amazingly conversational. She aware of a visitor and was not in bed, had not long lost her husband, and had hobbled over a form into her accus- been in that place little more than a tomed seat, and became one of a line year. At Boston, in the State of Masof dim old women confronting another sachusetts, this poor creature would line of dim old women across a narrow have been individually addressed, table. There was no obligation what- would have been tended in her own ever upon them to range themselves in room, and would have had her life this way; it was their manner of "re- gently assimilated to a comfortable life 88 THE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. out of doors. Would that be much to borhood of Mr. Baker's trap, I had do in England for a woman who has knocked at the gate of the workhouse kept herself out of a workhouse more of St. George's-in-the-East, and had than ninety rough long years? When found it to be an establishment highly Britain first, at Heaven's command, creditable to those parts, and thoroughly arose, with a great deal of allegorical well administered by a most intelligent confusion, from out the azure main, did master. I remarked inl it, an instance her guardian angels positively forbid it of the collateral harm that obstinate in the Charter which has been so n;uch vanity and folly can do. "This was the be-s;ng? Hall where those old paupers, male and The object of my journey was ac- female, whom I had just seen, met for complished when the nimble matron the Church service, was it?"-"Yes." — had no more to show me. As I shook " Did they sing the Psalms to any inhands with her at the gate, I told her strument?"-" They would like to, very that I thought Justice had not used much; they would have an extraordiher very well, and that the wise *men nary interest in doing so." " And of the East were not infallible. could none be got?"-" Well, a piano Now, I reasoned with myself, as I could even have been got for nothing, made my journey home again, concern- but these unfortunate dissensions- " ing those Foul wards. They ought Ah! better, far better, my Christian not to exist; no person of common friend in the beautiful garment, to have decency and humanity can see them let the singing boys alone, and left the and doubt it. But what is this Union multitude to sing for themselves! You to do? The necessary alteration would should know better than I, but I think cost several thousands of pounds; it I have read that they did so, once upon has already to support three work- a time, and that "when they had sung houses; its inhabitants work hard for an hymn," Some one (not in a beautitheir bare lives, and are already rated ful garment) went up into the Mount for the relief of the Poor to the utmost of Olives. exteirt of reasonable endurance. One It made my heart ache to think of poor parish in this very Union is rated this miserable trifling, in the streets of to the amount of FIVE AND SIXPENCE a city where every stone seemed to call in the pound, at the very same time to me, as I walked along, "Turn this when the rich parish of Saint George's, way, man, and see what waits to be Hanover-square, is rated at about done!" So I decoyed myself into anSEVENPENCE in the pound, Paddington other train of thought to ease my heart. at about FOURPENCE, Saint Jathes's, But, I don't know that I did it, for I Westminster, at about TENPENCE! It was so full of paupers, that it was, after is only through the equalization of all, only a change to a single pauper, Poor Rates that what is left undone in who took possession of my reinemthis wise, can be done. Much more is brance instead of a thousand. left undone, or is ill-done, than I have " I beg your pardon, sir," he had space to suggest in these notes of a said, in a confidential manner, on ansingle uncommercial journey; but, the other occasion, taking me aside; "but wise men of the East, before they can I have seen better days." reasonably hold forth about it, must "I am very sorry to hear it." look to the North and South and "Sir, I have a complaint to make West; let them also, any morning be- against the master." fore taking the seat of Solomon, look "I have no powei* here, I assure you. into the shops and dwellings all around And if I had —" the Temple, and first ask themselves "But allow me, sir, to mention it, as "how much more can these poor peo- between yourself and a man who has ple —many of whom keep themselves seen better days, sir. The master and with difficulty enough out of the work- myself are both masons, sir, and I make house-bear?" him the sign continually; but, because I had yet other matter for reflection, I am in this unfortunate position, sir, hbe as I journeyed home, inasmuch as, before won't give me the countersign 1" I altogether departed from the neigh THE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. 89 As I shut the door of my lodging a-day humanity, the stuff of whicL diaoehind me, and came out into the streets dems and robes of kings are made. I at six on a drizzling Saturday evening noticed that some shops which had in the last past month of January, all once been in the dramatic line, and had that neighborhood of Covent Garden, straggled out of it, were not getting on looked very desolate. It is so essen- prosperously-like some actors I have tially a neighborhood which has seen known, who took to business and failed better days, that bad weather affects it to make it answer. In a word, those sooner than another place which has streets looked so dull, and, considered not come down in the world. In its as theatrical streets, so broken and present reduced condition, it bears a bankrupt, that the FOUND DEAD. on the thaw almost worse than any place I black-board at the police station might know. It gets so dreadfully low-spi- have announced the decease of the rited when damp breaks forth. Those Drama, and the pools of water outside wonderful houses about Drury-lane the fire-engine maker's at the corner Theatre, which in the palmy days of of Long-acre might have been occatheatres were prosperous and long-set- sioned by his having brought out the tied places of business, and which now whole of his stock to play upon its last change hands every week, but never smouldering ashes. change their character of being divided And yet, on such a night in so deand subdivided on the ground floor into generate a time, the object of my jourmouldy dens of shops where an orange ney was theatrical. And yet, within wnd half a dozen nuts, or a pomatum- half an hour I was in an immense thepot, one cake of fancy soap, and a atre, capable of holding nearly five cigar-box, are offered for sale and never thousand people. sold, were most ruefully contemplated What Theatre? Her Majesty's? that evening, by the statue of Shake- Far better. Royal Italian Opera? Far. speare, with the rain-drops coursing better. Infinitely superior to the latter one another down its innocent nose. for hearing in; infinitely superior to Those inscrutable pigeon-hole offices, both, for seeing in. To every part of with nothing in them (not so much as this Theatre spacious fireproof ways of an ink-stand) but a model of a theatre ingress and egress. For every part of before the curtain, where, in the Italian it, convenient places of refreshment and Opera season, tickets at reduced prices retiring rooms. Every thing to eat and are kept on sale by nomadic gentlemen drink carefully supervised as to quality, in smeary hats too tall for them, whom and sold at an appointed price; respectone occasionally seems to have seen on able female attendants ready for the comrace-courses, not wholly unconnected monest women in the audience; a genwith strips of cloth of various colors eral air of consideration, decorum, and and a rolling ball —those Bedouin es- supervision, most commendable; an untablishments, deserted by the tribe, and questionably humanizing influence in all tenantless except' when sheltering in the social arrangements of the place. one corner an irregular row of ginger- Surely a dear Theatre, then? Bebeer-bottles which would have made cause there were in London (not very one shudder on such a night, but for long ago) Theatres with entrance-prices its being plain that they had nothing up to half a guinea a head, whose arin them, shrunk from the shrill cries of rangements were not half so civilized. the newsboys down at their Exchange in Surely, therefore, a dear Theatre? Not the kennel of Catherine-street, like guilty very dear. A gallery at threepence, things upon a fearful summons. At another gallery at fourpence, a pit at the pipe-shop in Great Russell-street, sixpence, boxes and pit-stalls at a shilthe D6ath's-head pipes were like a ling,.and six private boxes at half-atheatrical memento mori, admonishing crown. beholders of the decline of the play- My uncommercial curiosity induced house as an Institution. I walked up me to go into every nook of this great Bow-street, disposed to be angry with place, and among every class of the authe shops there, that were letting out dience assembled in it-amounting that theatrical secrets by exhibiting to work- evening, as I calculated, to about two 90 THE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. thousand and odd hundreds. Magnifi- round cost of five-and-twenty thousand cently lighted by a firmament of spark- pounds. To dismiss this part of my ling chandeliers, the building was ven- subject, and still to render to the protilated to perfection. My sense of prietor the credit that is strictly his due, smell, without being particularly deli- I must add that his sense of the responeate, has been so offended in some of sibility upon him to make the best of the commoner places of public resort, his audience, and to do his best for that I have often been obliged to leave them, is a highly agreeable sign of these them when I have made an uncom- times. mercial journey expressly to look As the spectators at this theatre, for on. The air of this Theatre was fresh, a reason I will presently show, were the cool, and wholesome. To help toward object of my journey, I entered on the this end, very sensible precautions play of the night as one of the two had been used ingeniously combining thousand and odd hundreds, by lookthe experience of hospitals and railway ing about me at my neighbors. We stations. Asphalt pavements substi- were a motley assemblage of people, tuted for wooden floors, honest bare and we had a good many boys and walls of glazed brick and tile-even young men among us; we had also at the back of the boxes —for plaster many girls and young women. To reand paper, no benches stuffed, and no present, however, that we did not include carpeting or baize used: a cool mate- avery great number, and a very fair prorial with a light glazed surface, being portion, of family groups, would be to the covering of the seats. make a gross misstatement. Such These various contrivances are as well groups were to be seen in all parts of considered in the place in question as the house; in the boxes and stalls par. if it were a Fever Hospital; the result ticularly, they were composed of peris, that it is sweet and healthful. It sons of very decent appearance, who has been constructed from the ground had many children with them. Among to the roof, with a careful reference to our dresses there were most kinds of sight and sound in every corner; the shabby and greasy wear, and much fusresult is, that its form is beautiful, and tian and corduroy that was neither that the appearance of the audience, as sound nor fragrant. The caps of our seen from the proscenium —with every young men were mostly of a limp charface in it commanding the stage, and the acter, and we who wore them, slouched, whole so admirably raked and turned to high-shouldered, into our places with that centre, that a hand can scarcely our hands in our pockets, and occasionmove in the great assemblage without ally twisted our cravats about our necks the movement being seen from thence- like eels, and occasionally tied them is highly remarkable in its union of down our breasts like links of sausages, vastness with compactness. The stage and occasionally had a screw in our hair itself, and all its appurtenances of ma- over each cheek-bone with a slight chinery, cellarage, height, and breadth, thief-flavor in it. Beside prowlers and are on a scale more like the Scala at idlers, we were mechanics, dock-laborMilan, or the San Carlo at Naples, or ers, coster-mongers, petty tradesmen, the Grand Opera at Paris, than any no- small clerks, milliners, stay-makers, shoetion a stranger would be likely to form binders, slop workers, poor workers in a of the Britannia Theatre at Hoxton, a hundred highways and by-ways. Many mile north of Saint Luke's Hospital in of us-on the whole, the majoritythe Old-street-road, London. The were not at all clean, and not at all Forty Thieves might be played herp, choice inourlives or conversation. But and every thief ride his real horse, and we had all come together in a place the disguised captain bring in his oil jars where our convenience was well conon a train of real camels, and nobody sulted., and where we were well looked be put out of the way. This really ex- after, to enjoy an evening's entertraordinary place is the achievement of tainment in common. We were not one man's enterprise, and was erected going to lose any part of what we had on the ruins of an inconvenient old paid for, through any body's caprice, building, in less than five months, at a and as a community we had a character THE UNCRMMIERCIAL TRAVELER. 91 to lose. So we were closely attentive, young men, dressed in exn tt imitation and kept excellent order, and let the of the eel-and-sausage-cravAted portion man or boy who did otherwise instantly of the audience, were chased by pol ceIget out from this place,'or we would put men, and finding themselves in danger him out with the greatest expedition. of being caught, dropped so suddenly We began at half-past six with a as to oblige the policemen to tumble pantomime-with a pantomime so long, over them, there was great rejoicing that before it was over I felt as if I had among the caps-as though it were a been traveling for six weeks —going to delicate reference to something they had India, say, by the Overland Mail. The heard of before. Spirit of Liberty was the principal per- The Pantomime was succeeded by a sonage in the Introduction, and the Melo-Drama. Throughout the evening, Four quarters of the World came out I was pleased to observe Virtue quite of the globe, glittering, ard discoursed as triumphant as she usually is out of with the Spirit, who sang charmingly. doors, and indeed I thought rather We were delighted to understand that more so. We all agreed (for the time) there was no Liberty anywhere but that honesty was the best policy, and among ourselves, and we highly ap- we were as hard as iron upon Vice, and plauded the agreeable fact. In an alle- we wouldn't hear of Villany getting on gorical way, which did as well as any in the world-no, not upon any conother way, we and the Spirit of Liberty sideration whatever. got into a kingdom of Needles and Between the pieces, we almost all of Pins, and found them at war with a us went out and refreshed. Many of potentate who called in to his aid their us went the length of drinking beer at old arch-enemy Rust, and who would the bar of the neighboring public-house, have got the better of them if the Spirit some of us drank spirits, crowds of us of Liberty had not in the nick of time had sandwiches and ginger-beer at the transformed the leaders into Clown, refreshment-bars established for us in Pantaloon, Harlequin, Columbine, Har- the Theatre. The sandwich-as sublequirla, and a whole family of Sprites, stantial as was consistent with portaconsisting ef a remarkably stout farther bility, and as cheap as possible-we and three spineless sons. We all knew hailed as one of our greatest instituwhat was coming, when the Spirit of tions. It forced its way among us at Liberty addressed the King with the all stages of the entertainment, and we big face, and His Majesty backed to were always delighted to see it; its the side-scenes and began untying him- adaptability to the varying moods of self behind, with his big face all on one our nature was surprising; we could side. Our excitement at that crisis was never weep so comfortably as when our great, anfi our delight unbounded. tears fell on our sandwich; we could After this era in our existence, we went never latgh so heartily as when we throngh all the incidents of a panto- choked with sandwich; Virtue never mime; it was not by any means a savage looked so beautiful or Vice so deformed pantomlime in the way of burning or as when we paused, sandwich in hand, boiling people, or throwing then out to consider what would come of that of window, or cutting them up; was resolution of Wickedness in boots, to often very droll, was always liberally sever Innocence in flowered chintz from got up, and cleverly presented. I Honest Industry in striped stockings. noticed that the people who kept the When the curtain fell for the night, we shops, and who represented the )assen- still fell back upon sandwich, to help us gers in the thoroughfares and so forth, through the rain and mire, and home to had no conventionality in them, but bed. were unusually like the real thing- This, as I have mentioned, was Satur. from which I infer that you may take day night. Being Saturday night, I that audience in (if you wish to) con- had accomplished but the half of my cerning Knights and Ladies, Fairies, uncommercial journey; for, its object Angels, or such like, but that they are was to compare the play on Saturday not to be done as to any -thing in the evening, with the-preaching in the same streets I noticed, also, that when two Theatre oli Sulday evening. 92 THE UNI1COMIMERCIAL TRAVYELER. Therefore, at the same hour of half- A portion of Scripture was being past six on the similarly damp and read when I went in. It was followed muddy Sunday evening, I returned to by a discourse, to which the congregathis Theatre. I drove up to the entrance gation listened with ~ ost exemplary (fearful of being late, or I should have attention and uninterrupted silenlce and come on foot), and found myself in a decorum. My own attention conmprelarge crowd of people who, I am happy hended both the auditory and lhe to state, were put into excellent spirits speaker, and shall turn to both in this by my arrival. Having nothing to recalling of the scene, exactly as it did look at but the mud and the closed at the time. doors, they looked at me, and highly "A very difficult thing," I thoughIt, enjoyed the comic spectacle. My when the discourse began, "to speak modesty inducing me to draw off, some appropriately to so large an audience, hundreds of yards, into a dark corner, and to speak with tact. Withlout it, they at once forgot me, and applied better not to speak at all. Infinitely themselves to their former occupation better to read the New Testament well, of looking at the mud and looking in at and to let that speak. In this congrethe closed doors: which being of grated gation there is indubitably one pulse; iron-work, allowed the lighted passage but I doubt if any power short of within to be seen. They were chiefly genius can touch it as one, and make it people of respectable appearance, odd answer as one," and impulsive as most crowds are, and I could not possibly say to myself as making a joke of being there as most the discourse proceeded, that the rmincrowds do. ister was a good speaker. I could not In the dark corner I might have sat possibly say to myself that he expressed a long while, but that a very obliging an understanding of the general mitnd passer-by informed me that the Theatre (and character of his audience. There was already full, and that the people was a supposititious workin;-inaln illtro whom I saw in the street were all shut duced into the homily to make suppo out for want of room. After that, I sititious objections to our Christian lost no time in worming myself into the religion and be reasoned down, wh11o building, and creeping to a place in a was not only a very disagreeable persoi, Prosceenium box that had been kept for but remarkably unlike liife —very mlucl me. more unlike it than any thing I lhad seen There must have been full four thou- in the pantomime. The native indesand people present. Carefully esti- pendence of character this artisan was mating the pit alone, I could bring it supposed to possess, was represented out as holding little less than fourteen by a suggestion of a dialect that I cerhundred. Every part of the house was tainly never heard in my untcomllercial well filled, and I had not found it easy travels, and with a coarse swing of voice to make my way along the back of the and manner any thing but agreieable to boxes to where I sat. The chandeliers his feelings I should conceive, considin the ceiling were lighted; there was ered in the light of a portrait, alld as t.o light on the stage; the orchestra far away from the fact as a Chiniese was empty. The green curtain was Tartar. There was a mnodel paul)er iiidown, and packed pretty closely on troduced in like manner, who appearcld chairs on the small space of stage to me to be the most inltolerably arro. before it were some thirty gentlemen, gant pauper ever relieved, and to sVowv and two or three ladies. In the centre himiself in absolute want and dire lieof these, in a desk or pulpit covered cessity of a course of Stone Yard. For, with red baize, was the presiding min- hlow did this pauper testify to his havilng ister. The kind of rostrum he occupied, received the gospel of humility.? A will be very well understood, if I liken gentleman met him ini the workhlouse, it to a boarded-up fire-place turned and said (which I myself really thought towards the audience, with a gentleman good-natured of him), " Ah, John? I in a black surtout standing in the stove am sorry to see you here. I am sorry and leaning foruard over the mantle- to see you so poor." "Poor, sir I" repiece plied that man, drawing himself up, "1 THIE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. 93 am the soIl of a Prince! My father is this piece of paper. I'iust confess that the King of Kings. My father is the to me, as one of an uninstructed audiLord of Lords. ly father is the ruler ence, they did not appear particularly of all the Princes of the Earth!" &c. edifying. I thought their tone exAnd this was what all the preacher's tremely selfish, and I thouglit they had fellow-sinners might come to, if they a spiritual vanity in them which was of would embrace this blessed book-which the before-mentioned refractory pauper's I must say it did some violence to my family. own feelings of reverence, to see held All slangs and twangs are objecout at arm's length at frequent intervals tionable everywhere, but the slang and and soundingly slapped, like a slow lot twang of the conventicle-as bad in its at a sale. Now, could I help asking way as that of the House of Commons, myself the question, whether the me- and nothing worse call be said of itchanic before me who must detect the should be studiously avoided under such preacher as being wrong about the circumstances as I describe. The avoidvisible manner of himself and the like ance was not complete on this occasion. of himself, and about such a noisy lip- Nor was it quite agreeable to see the server as that pauper, might not,'most preacher addressing his pet "points " unhappily for the usefulness of the oc- to his backers on the stage, as if appealcasion, doubt that preacher's being ing to those disciples to shore him up, right about things not visible to human and testify to the multitude that each senses? of those points was a clincher. Again. Is it necessary or advisable But, in respect of the large Christo address such an audience continually, tianity of his general tone; of his reas "fellow-sinners"? Is it not enough nunciation of all priestly authority; of to be fellow-creatures, born yesterday, his earnest and reiterated assurance to suffering and striving to-day, dying to- the people that the commonest among morrow? By our common humanity, them could work out their own salvamy brothers and sisters, by our common tion if they would, by simply, lovingly, capacities for pain and pleasure, by our and dutifully following Our Saviour, common laughter and our common tears, and that they needed the mediation of by our common aspiration to reach some- no erring man; in these particulars, thing better than ourselves, by our com- this gentleman deserved all praise. Nomon tendency to believe in something thing could be better than the spirit, or good, and to invest whatever we love or the plain emphatic words of'his discourse whatever we lose with some qualities in these respects. And it was a most sigthat are superior to our own failings nificant and encouraging circumstance, and weaknesses as we know them in our that whenever he struck that chord, or own poor hearts —by these. Hear me! whenever he described any thing which -Surely, it is enough to be fellow- Christ himself had done, the array of creatures. Surely, it inclugds the other faces before him was very much more designation and some touching mean- earnest, and very much more expressive ings over and above. of emotion, than at any other time. Again. There was a personage in- And now, I am brought to the fact, tlod uced into the discourse (not an that the lowest part of the audience of absolute novelty, to the best of my re- the previous night, was not there. membrance of my reading), who had There is no doubt about it. There was been personally known to the preacher, no such thing in that building, that and had been quite a Crichton in all the Sunday evening. I have been told ways of philosophy, but had been an since, that the lowest part of the audiinfidel. Many a time had.the preacher ence of the Victoria Theatre has been talked with him on that subject, and attracted to its Sunday services. I have many a time bad he failed to convince been very glad to hear it, but on this that intelligent man. But he fell ill occasion of which I write, the lowest and died, and before he died he recorded part of the usual audience of the Brihis conversion-in words which the tannia Theatre, decidedly and unquespreacher had taken down, my fellow- tionably stayed away. When I first sirlners, and would read to you from took my seat and looked at the house, 94 THE UNCOAIMERCIAL TRA V]LER. my surprise at the change in its occu- tory, tell it. Some people cann,)t read, pants was as great as my disappoint- some people will not read, many people ment. To the most respectable class (this especially holds among the young of the previous evening, was added a and ignorant) find it hard to pursue the great number of respectable strangers verse-form in which the book is preattracted by curiosity, and drafts from sented to them, and imagine that those the regular congregations of various breaks imply gaps, and wan' of conchapels. It was impossible to fail in tinuity. Help them over that first identifying the character of these last, stumbling-block, by setting forth the and they were very numerous. I came history in narrative, with no fear of exout in a strong, slow tide of them set- hausting it. You will never preach so ting from the boxes. Indeed, while the well, you will never move them so prodiscourse was in progress, the respect- foundly, you will never send them away able character of the auditory was so with half so much to think of. Which manifest in their appearance, that when is the better interest: Christ's choice the minister addressed a supposititious of'twelve poor men to help in those "outcast," one really felt a little impa- merciful wonders among the poor and tient of it, as a figure of speech not rejected; or the pious bullying of a justified by any thing the eye could dis- whole Union-full of paupers? What cover. is your changed philosopher to wretched The time appointed for the conclusion me, peeping in at the door out of the of the proceedings was eight o'clock. mud of the streets and of my life, when The address having lasted until full that you have the widow's son to tell me time, and it being the custom to con- about, the ruler's daughter, the other elude with a hymn, the preacher inti- figure at the door when the brother of mated in a few sensible words that the the two sisters was dead, and one of the clock had struck the hour, and that those two ran to the mourner, crying, " The who desired to go before the hymn was Master is come, and calleth for thee"? sung, could go now, without giving of- Let the preacher who will thoroughly fense. No one stirred. The hymn was forget himself and remember no indithen sung, in good time and tune and viduality but one, and no eloquence but unison, and its effect was very striking. one, stand up before four thousand men A comprehensive benevolent prayer dis- and women at the Britannia Theatre missed the throng, and in seven or eight any Sunday night, recounting that naiminutes there was nothing left in the rative to them as fellow-creatures, ani Theatre but a light cloud of dust. he shall see a sight I That these Sunday meetings in Theatres are good things, I do not Is the sweet little cherub who sits doubt. Nor do I doubt that they will smiling aloft and keeps watch on the work lower and lower down in the so- life of Poor Jack, commissioned to take cial scale, if those who presid]e over charge of Mercantile Jack, as well as them will be very careful on two heads: Jack of the national navy? If not, firstly, not to disparage the places in who is? What is the cherub about, which they speak, or the intelligence and what are we all about, when Poor:of their hearers; secondly, not to set Mercantile Jack is having his brains themselves in antagonism to the natural slowly knocked out by pennyweights, inborn desire of the mass of mankind to aboard the brig Beelzebub, or the barque recreate themselves and to be amused. Bowie-knife-when he looks his last at There is a third head, taking prece- that infernal craft, with the first offideuce of all others, to which my remarks cer's iron boot-heel in his remaining on the discourse I heard, have tended. eye, or with his dying body towed overIn the New Testament there is the board in the ship's (rake, while the most beautiful and affecting history cruel wounds in it do "the multitudi. conceivable by man, and there are the nous seas incarnadine"? terse models for all prayer and for all Is it unreasonable to entertain a be. preaching. As to the models, imitate lief that if, aboard the brig Beelzebub them, Sunday preachers-else why are or the barque Bowie-knife, the first they there, consider? As to the his- officer did half the damage to cotton THE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. 95 that he does to men, there would pre- ing of iron, a jolting of cotton and sently arise from both sides of the At- hides and casks and timber, an itnceslantic so vociferous an invocation of sant deafening disturbance, on the the sweet little cherub who sits calcu- quays, that was the very madness of lating aloft, keeping watch on the mar- sound. And as, in the midst of it, ha kets that pay, that such vigilant cherub stood swaying about, with his hair would, with a winged sword, have that blown all manner of wild ways, rather gallant officer's organ of destructive- crazedly taking leave of his plunderers, ness out of his head in the space of a all the rigging in the docks was shrill flash of lightning? in the wind, and every little steamer If it be unreasonable, then am I the coming and going across the Mersey most unreasonable of men, for I believe was sharp in its blowing off, and every it with all my soul. buoy in the river bobbed spitefully up This was my thought as I walked the and down, as if there were a general dock-quays at Liverpool, keeping watch taunting chorus of " Come along, Meron poor Mercantile Jack. Alas for cantile Jack! Ill-lodged, ill-fed, illme i I have long outgrown the state used, hocussed, entrapped, anticipated, of sweet little cherub; but there I was, cleaned out. Come along, Poor Merand there Mercantile Jack was, and cantile Jack, and be tempest-tossed till very busy he was, and very cold he you are drowned!" was: the snow yet lying in the frozen The uncommercial transaction which furrows of the land, and the northeast had brought me and Jack together, was winds snipping off the tops of the little this: —I had entered the Liverpool powaves in the Mersey, and rolling them lice-force, that I might have a look at into hailstones to pelt him with. Mer- the various unlawful traps which are cantile Jack was hard at it, in the hard every night set for Jack. As my term weather, as he mostly is in all weathers, of service in that distinguished corps poor Jack. He was girded to ships' was short, and my personal bias in the masts and funnels of steamers, like a capacity of one of its members has forester to a great oak, scraping and ceased, no suspicion will attach to my painting; he was lying out on yards, evidence that it is an admirable force. furling sails that tried to beat him off; Besides that it is composed, without he was dimly discernible up in a world favor, of the best men that can be of giant cobwebs, reefing and splicing; picked, it is directed by an unusual inhe was faintly audible down in holds, telligence. Its organization against stowing and unshipping cargo; he was Fires, I take to be much better than winding round and round at capstans the metropolitan system, and inmall remelodious, monotonous, and drunk; he spects it tempers its remarkable vigiwas of a diabolical aspect, with coaling lance with a still more remarkable disfor the Antipodes; he was washing cretion. decks barefoot, with the breast of his Jack had knocked off work in.the red shirt open to the blast, though it docks some hours, and I had taken, for was sharper than the knife in his leath- purposes of identification, a photograph ern girdle; he was looking over bul- likeness of a thief in the portrait room warks, all eyes and hair; he was stand- at our head police-office (on the whole, ing by at the shoot of the Cunard he seemed rather complimented by the steamer, off to-morrow, as the stocks in proceeding), and I had been on policetrade of several butchers, poulterers, parade, and the small hand of the and fishmongers, poured down into the clock was moving on to ten, when I ice-house; he was coming aboard of took up my lantern to follow Mr. Suother vessels, with his kit in a tarpaulin perintendent to the traps that were set bag, attended by plunderers to the very for Jack. In Mr. Superintendent I last moment of his shore-going exist- saw, as any body might, a tall, wellence. As though his senses, when re- looking, well set-up man of a soldierly leased from the uproar of the elements, bearing, with a cavalry air, a good were under obligaticn to be confused chest, and a resolute but not by any by other turmoil, there was a rattling means ungentle face. He carried in of wheels, a clattering of hoofs, a clash- his hand a plain black walking-stick of 96 THE UNCOMMSERCIAL TRAVELER. hard wood; and whenever and wher- trimony; now, it was Jack's delight, ever, at any after-time of the night, he his (un)lovely Nan; but they were all struck it on the pavement with a ring- waiting for Jack, and were all frighting sound, it instantly produced a fully disappointed to see us. whistle out of the darkness, and a po- "Who have you got up-stairs here?" liceman. To this remarkable stick, I says Sharpeye, generally. (In the refer an air of mystery and magic which Move-on tone.) pervaded the whole of my perquisition " Nobody, surr; sure not a blessed among the traps that were set for sowl!" (Irish feminine reply.) Jack. "What do you mean by nobody? We began by diving into the ob- Didn't- I hear a woman's step go upscurest streets and lanes of the port. stairs when my hand was on the Suddenly pausing in a flow of cheerful latch?" discourse, before a dead wall, appa- "Ah I sure thin you're rhight, surr, I rently some ten miles long, Mr. Super- forgot her!'Tis on'y Betsy White, intendent struck upon the ground, and surr. Ah! you know Betsy, surr. the wall opened and shot out, with mi- Come down, Betsy, darlin', and say the litary salute of hand to temple, two po- gintlemin." licemen-not in'the least surprised Generally, Betsy looks over the bathemselves, not in the least surprising nisters (the steep staircase is in the Mr. Superintendent. room) with a forcible expression in her "All right, Sharpeye?" protesting face, of an intention to comrn"All right, sir." pensate herself for the present trial by "All right, Trampfoot?" grinding Jack finer than usual when "All right, sir." he does come. Generally, Sharpeye "Is Quickear there?" turns to Mr. Superintendent, and says, "Hero am I, sir." as if the subjects of his remarks were "Con.e with us." wax-work: " Yes sir." " One of the worst, sir, this house is. So, Sharpeye went before, and Mr. This woman has been indicted three Superintendent and I went next, and times. This man's a regular bad one Trampfoot and Quickear marched as likewise. His real name is Pegg. rear-guard. Sharpeye, I soon had oc- Gives himself out as Waterhouse." casion to remark, had a skillful and "Never had sitch a name as Pegg quite professional way of opening doors near me back, thin, since I was in this -touched latches delicately, as if they house, bee the good Lard " says the were keys of musical instruments- woman. opened every door he touched, as if he Generally, the man says nothing at were perfectly confident that there was all, but becomes exceedingly roundstolen property behind it-instantly shouldered, and pretends to read his insinuated himself to prevent its being paper with rapt attention. Generally, shut. Sharpeye directs our observation with Sharpeye opened several doors of a look, to the prints and pictures that traps that were set for Jack, but Jack are invariably numerous on the walls. did not happen to be in any of them. Always, Trampfoot and Quickear are They were all such miserable places taking notice on the door-step. In dethat really, Jack, if I were you, I would fault of Sharpeye being acquainted give them a wider berth. In every with the exact individuality of any gentrap, somebody was sitting over a fire, tleieman encountered, one of these two waiting for Jack. Now, it was a is sure to proclaim from the outer air, crouching old woman, like the picture like a gruff spectre, that Jackson is not of the Norwood Gipsy in the old six- Jackson, but knows himself to be Fopenny dream-books; now, it was a gle; and that Canlon is Walker's brocrimp of the male sex in a checked ther, against whom there was not suffishirt and without a coat, reading a cient evidence; or that the man who newspaper; now, it was a man crimp says he never was at sea since he was and a woman crimp, who always intro- a boy, came ashore from a voyage last duced themselves as united in holy ma- Thursday, or sails to-morrov- morning. TIIE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAYELER. 97 " And that is a bad class of man, you I that looked as if they were carved out of see," says Mr. Superintendent, when dark wood, toward the young lady danewe got out into the dark again, " and ingthe hornpipe, whofound the platform very difficult to deal with, who, when so exceedingly small for it that I had a he has made this place too hot to hold nervous expectation of seeing her, in him, enters himself for a voyage as the backward steps, disappear through steward or cook, and is out of know- the window. Still, if all hands had ledge for months, and then turns up been got together, they would not have again worse than ever." more than half filled the room. ObWhen we had gone into many such serve, however, said Mr. Licensed Vichouses, and had come out (always tualer, the host, that it was Friday leaving every body relapsing into wait- night, and, besides, it was getting on ing for Jack,) we started off to a sing- for twelve, and Jack had gone aboard. ing-house where Jack was expected to A sharp and watchful man, Mr. Limuster strong. censed Victualer the host, with tight The vocalization was taking place in lips and a complete edition of Cocker's a long low room up-stairs; at one end, arithmetic in each eye. Attended to an orchestra of two performers, and a his business himself, he said. Always small platform; across the room, a on the spot. When he heard of talent, series of open pews for Jack, with an trusted nobody's account of it, but went aisle down the middle; at the other off by rail to see it. If true talent, enend, a larger pew than the rest entitled gaged it. Pounds a week for talentSNUG, and reserved for mates and four pound-five pound. Banjo Bones similar good company. About the was undoubted talent. Hear this inroom, some amazing coffee-colored strument that was going to play —it was pictures varnished an inch deep, and real talent! In truth it was very good; some stuffed creatures in cases; dotted a kind of piano-accordeon, played by a among the audience, in Snug and out young girl of a delicate prettiness of of Snug, the "Professionals;" among face, figure, and dress, that made the them, of course, the celebrated comic audience look coarser. She sang to favorite Mr. Banjo Bonen, looking the instrument, too;.first, a song about very hideous with his blackened face village bells, and how they claimed; and limp sugar-loaf hat; beside him, then a song about how I went to sea; sipping rum and-water, Mrs. Banjo winding up with ant imitation of the Bones, in her natural colors-a little bagpipes, which Mercalltile Jaclk heightened. seemied to understand much the best. It was a Friday night, and Friday A good girl, said Mr. Licensed Vicnight was considered not a good night tualer. Kept herself select.' Sat in for Jack.- At any rate, Jack did not Snug, not listening to the blandishshow in very great force even here, ments of mates. Lived with mother. though the house was one to which he Father dead. Once, a merchant well much resorts, and where a good deal of to do, but over-speculated himself. On money is taken. There was British delicate inquiry as to salary paid for Jack, a little maudlin and sleepy, loll- item of talent under consideration, Mr. ing over his emptied glass, as if he Victualer's pounds dropped suddenly were trying to read his fortune at the to shillings —still it was a very comfortbottom; there was Loafing Jack at able thing for a young person like that, the Stars and Stripes, rather an unpro- you know; she only went on, six times mising customer, with his long nose, a night, and was only required to be lank cheek, high cheek-bones, and no- there from six at night to twelve. What thing soft about him but his cabbage- was more conclusive was, Mr. Victualleaf hat; there was Spanish Jack, with er's assurance that he " never allowed curls of black hair, rings in his ears, any language, and never suffered any and a knife not far from his hand, if you disturbance." Sharpeye confirmed the got into trouble with him; there were statement, and the order that prevailed Maltese Jack, and Jack of Sweden, and was the best proof of it that could have Jack the Finn, looming through the been cited. So, I came to the conclusmoke of their pipes, and turning faces sion that Poor Mercantile Jack might 98 TIHE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. do (as I am afraid he does) much worse The male dancers were all blacks, than trust himself to Mr. Victualer, and one was an unusually powerful man and pass his evenings here. of six feet three or four. The sound of But we had not yet looked, Mr. Su- their flat feet on the floor was as unlike perintendent-said Trampfoot, receiv- the sound of white feet as their faces ing us in the street again with military were unlike white faces. They toed salute-for dark Jack. True, Tramp- and heeled, shuffled, double-shuffled, foot. Ring the wonderful stick, rub the double-double-shuffled, covered the wonderful lantern, and cause the spirits buckle, and beat the time out, rarely, of the stick and lantern to convey us to dancing with a great show of teeth, and the Darkies. with a childish, good-humoured enjoyThere was no disappointment in the ment that was very prepossessing. matter of Dark Jack; he was produci- They generally kept together, these poor ble. Thle Genii set us down in the lit- fellows, said Mr. Superintendent, betile first floor of a little public-house, cause they were at a disadvantage sinand there in a stiflingly close atmo- gly, and liable to slights in the neighsphere, were Dark Jack and Dark Jack's boring streets. But if I were Light Delight, his white unlovely Nan, sitting Jack, I should be very slow to interagainst the wall all round the room. fere oppressively with Dark Jack, for, More than that: Dark Jack's Delight whenever I have had to do with him I was the least unlovely Nan, both morally have found him a simple and gentle feland physically, that I saw that night. low. Bearing this in mind, I asked his A's a fiddle and tambourine band friendly permission to leave him restowere sitting among the company, ration of beer, in wishing him good Quickear suggested why not strike up? night, and thus it fell out that the last "Ah la'ads!" said a negro sitting by words I heard him say as I blundered the door, "gib the jebblem a darnse. down the worn stairs, were, "Jebblem's Tak' yah pardlers, jebblem, for'um elth! Ladies drinks fust!" QUAD-rill." The night was now well on into the This was the landlord, in a Greek morning, but, for miles and hours we cap, and a dress half Greek and half explored a strange world, where nobody English. As master of the ceremonies, ever goes to bed, but every body is he called all the figures, and occasion- eternally sitting up waiting for Jack. ally addressed himself parenthetically- This exploration was among a labyrinth after this manner. When he was very of dismal courts and blind alleys, called loud, I use capitals. Entries, kept in wonderful order by the "Now den! Hoy I ONE. Right police, and in much better order than by and left. (Put a steam on, gib'um the corporation: the want of gaslight powder.) LA-dies' chail. BAL-loo10011 in the most dangerous and infamous of say. Lemonade! Two. AD-warnse these places being quite unworthy of and go back (gib'ell a breakdown, so spirited a town. I need describe shake it out o' yerselbs, keep a movil). but two or three of the houses in which SWING-corners, BAL-loon say, and Jack was waited for, as specimens of Lemonade! (Hoy I) THREE. GENT the rest. Many weattained by noisome come for'ard with a lady and go back, passages so profoundly dark that we hoppersite come for'ard with a lady and felt our way with our hands. Not one go back, ALL four come forward and do of the whole number we visited, was what yer can. (Aeiohoy!) BAL-loon without its show of prints and ornasay, and leetle lemonade (Dat hair mental crockery; the quantity of the nigger by um fireplace'hind a' time, latter set forth on little shelves and in shake it out o' yerselbs, gib'ell a break- little cases, in otherwise wretched rooms, down). Now den! Hoy I FOURt indicating that Mercantile Jack must Lemonade. BAL-loon say, and swing. have an extraordinary fondness for FOUR ladies meet in'um middle, FOUR crockery, to necessitate so much of that gents goes round'am ladies, FOUR gents bait in his traps. passes out under'um ladies' arms, Among such garniture, in one front SWINO —and Lemoinde till'a moosic parlor in the dead of the night, four can't play no more!, (Eoy, Hoy!)" women were sitting by a fire. One of THE UNCOMMIIERCIAL TRAVELER. 99 them had a male child in her arms. On remonstrance from her fiiends, that she a stool among them was a swarthy knowed it to be Law, that whoever took youth with a guitar, who had evidently a child from its mother of his own will, stopped playing when our footsteps was bound to stick to it. The uncomwere heard. mercial sense of being in a rather ridi" Well! how do you do?" says Mr. culous position with the poor little child Superintendent, looking about him. beginning to be frightened, was relieved "Pretty well, sir, and hope you gen- by my worthy friend and fellow-contlemen are going to treat us ladies, now stable, Trampfoot; who, laying hands you have come to see us." on the article as if it were a Bottle, "Order there!" says Sharpeye. passed it on to the nearest woman, and " None of that!" says Quickear. bade her " take hold of that." As we Trampfoot, outside is heard to con- came out, the Bottle was passed to the fide to himself, "Megisson's lot this is. ferocious joker, and they all sat down And a bad'un i" as before, including Antonio and the "Well!" says Mr. Superintendent, guitar. -It was clear that there was no laying his hand on the shoulder of the such thing as a nightcap to this baby's swarthy youth, and who's this?" head, and that even he never went to "Antonio, sir." bed, but was always kept up —and "And what does he do here?" would grow up, kept up —waiting for " Come to give us a bit of music. Jack. NTo harm in that, I suppose?" Later still in the night, we came (by " A yoinmg foreign sailor?" the court "where the man was mur"Yes. He's a Spaniard. You're a dered," and by the other court across Spaniard, ain't you, Antonio?" the street, into which his body was "Me Spanish." dragged) to another parlor in another "A nd he don't know a word you say, Entry, where several people were sitting not hbe, not if you was to talk to him round a fire in just the same way. It till doomsday." (Triumphantly, as if was a dirty and offensive place, with'it redounded to the credit of the house.) some ragged clothes drying in it; but " Will he play something?" there was a high shelf over the entrance" Oh, yes, if you like. Play some- door (to be out of the reach of maraudthing, Antonio. You ain't ashamed to ing hands, possibly), with two large play something; are you?" white loaves on it, and a great piece of The cracked guitar raises the feeblest Cheshire cheese. ghost of a tune, and three of the women "Well!" says Mr. Superintendent, keep time to it with their heads, and with a comprehensive look all round. the fourth with the child. If Antonio I" How do you do?" has brought any money in with him, I./ "Not much to boast of, sir." From am afraid he will never take it out, and the courtesying woman of the house. it even strikes me that his jacket and " This is my good man, sir." guitar may be in a bad way. But, the "You are not registered as a common look of the young man and the tinkling Lodging House?" of the instrument so change the place " No, sir.".in a moment to a leaf out of Don Quix- Sharpeye (in the Move-on tune) puts ote, that I wonder where his mule is in the pertinent inquiry, "Then why stabled, until he leaves off. ain't you?" I am bound to acknowledge (as it "Ain't got no one here, Mr. Sharptends rather to my uncommercial con- eye," rejoins the woman and my good fusion), that I occasioned a difficulty in man together, " but our own family." this establishment, by having taken the " How many are you in family?" child in my arms. For, oil my offering The woman takes time to count, unto restore it to a ferocious joker not der pretense of coughing, and adds, as unstimula:ed by rum, who claimed to one scant of breath, " Seven, sir."7 be its mother, that unnatural parent But she has missed one, so Sharpeye, put her hands behind her, and declined who knows all about it, says: to accept it; backing into the fire-place, "Here's a young man here makes and very shrilly declaring, regardless of eight, who ain't of your family?" 100. THE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAY ELER. "No, Mr. Sharpeye, he's a weekly mended stirring the fire, the old lady so lodger'" approved it. There she sat, rosily " What does he do for a living?" beaming at the copy-book and the boy, The young man here, takes the re- and invoking showers of blessings on ply upon himself, and shortly answers, our heads, when we left her in the middle "Ain't got nothing to do." of the night, waiting for Jack. The young man here, is modestly Later still in the night, we came to a brooding behind a damp apron pendent nauseous room with an earth floor, into fzomaclothes-line. As Iglance at him which the refuse scum of an alley I become-bilt I don't know why- trickled. The stench of this habitation vaguely reminded of Woolwich, Chat- was abominable; the seeming poverty hlam, Portsmouth, and Dover. When of it, diseased and dire. Yet, here we get out, my respected fellow-con- again, was visitor or lodger —a man stable Sharpeye addressing Mr. Super- sitting before the fire, like the rest of intendent, says: them elsewhere, and apparently not dis"You noticed that young man, sir, in tasteful to the mistress's niece, who was at Darby's?" also before the fire. The mistress her" Yes. What is he?" self had the misfortune of being in jail. " Deserter, sir." Three weird old women of transcendMr. Sharpeye further intimates that ent ghastliness, were at needlework at a when we have done with his services, he table in this room. Says Trampfoot to will step back and take that young man. First Witch, "What are you making?" Which in course of time he does: feel- Says she, " Money-bags." ing at perfect ease about finding him, " What are you making?' retorts and knowing for a moral certainty that Trampfoot, a little off his balance. nobody in that region will be gone to "Bags to hold your money," says the bed. witch, shaking her head, and setting her Later still in the night, we came to teeth; "you as has got it." another parlor up a step or two from the She holds up a common cash-bag, and street, which was very cleanly, neatly, on the table is a heap of such bags. even tastefully, kept, and in which, set Witch Two laughs at us. Witch Three forth on a draped chest of drawers mask- scowls at us. Witch sisterhood all, ing the staircase, was such a profusion stitch, stitch. First Witch has a red of ornamental crockery, that it would circle round each eye. I fancy it like have furnished forth a handsome sale- the beginning of the dAevelopment of a booth at a fair. It backed up a stout perverted diabolical halo, and that when old lady —HOGARTH drew her exact it spreads all round her head, she will likeness more than once-and a boy die in the odor of devilry. who was carefully writing a copy in a Trampfoot wishes to be informed copy-book. what First Witch has got behind the " ell, ma'am, how do you do?" table., down by the side of her, there?Sweetly, she can assure the dear gen- Witches Two and Three croak angrily, tlemlen, sweetly. Charmingly, charm-'" Show him the child I" iigly. And overjoyed to see us. She drags out a skinny little arm from "Why, this is a strange time for this a brown dust-heap on the ground. Adboy to be writing his copy. In the jured not to disturb the child, she lets middle of the night!" it drop again. Thus we find at last that "So it is, dear gentlemen, Heaven there is one child in the world of' Entries bless your welcome faces and send ye who goes.to bed-if this be bed. prosperous, but he has been to the Play Mr. Superintendent asks how long with a young friend for his diversion, are they going to work at those bags? and he coimbinates his improvement How long? First Witch repeats. with entertainment by doing his school- Going to have supper presently. See writhing afterwards, God be'good to the cups and saucers, and the plates. ye!" Mr. Superintendent opines, it is The copy admonished human nature rather late for supper, surely. to subjugate the fire of every fie:ce de- "' Late? Ay I But we has to'arn our sire. One might have thought it recom-, supper afore we eats it I" Both the THE UNCOMSMERCIAL TRAVELER. 101 other witches repeat this after First done, to bring such windy punishment Witch, and take the Uncommercial upon itself, as I never fail to find remeasurement with their eyes, as for a corded in the newspapers when the charmed winding-sheet. Some grim wind has blown at all hard. Brixton discourse ensues, referring to the mis- seems to have something on its contress of the cave, who will be released science; Peckham suffers more than a from jail to-morrow. Witches pro- virtuous Peckham might be supposed nounce Trampfoot "right there," when to deserve; the howling neighborhood he deems it a trying distance for the old of Deptford figures largely in the aclady to walk; she shall be fetched by counts of the ingenious gentlemen who niece in a spring-cart. are out in every wind that blows, and As I took a parting look at First to whom it is an ill high wind that Witch in turning away, the red marks blows no good; but, there can hardly round her eyes seemed to have already be any Walworth left by this time. It grown larger, and she hungrily and must surely be blown away. I have thirstily looked out beyond me into the read of more chimney-stacks and housedark doorway, to see if Jack were there. copings coming down with terrific For, Jack came even here, and the mis- smashes at Walworth, and of more satress had got into jail through deluding cred edifices being nearly (not quite) Jack. blown out to sea from the same acWhen I at last ended this night of cursed locality, than I have read of travel and got to bed, I failed to keep practiced thieves with the appearance my mind on comfortable thoughts of and manners of gentlemen-a popular Seaman's Homes (not overdone with phenomenon which nevermexisted on strictness), and improved-dock regula- earth out of fiction and a police report. tions giving Jack greater benefit of fire Again: I wonder why people are al. and candle aboard ship, through my ways blown into the Surrey Canal, and mind's wandering among the vermin I into no other piece of water? Why had seen. Afterward the same vermin do people get up early and go out in ran all over my sleep. Evermore, when groups, to be blown into the Surrey Pfla breezy day I see Poor Mercantile Canal? Do they say to one another, Jack running into port with a fair wind " Welcome Death, so that we get into nuder all sail, I shall think of the un- the newspapers"? Even that would sleeping host of devourers who never be an insufficient explanation, because go to bed, and are always in their set even then they might sometimes put traps waiting for him. themselves in the way of being blown into the Regent's Canal, instead of al. IN the late high winds I was blown ways saddling Surrey for the field. to a great many places-and indeed, Some nameless policemen, too, is conwind or no wind, I generally have ex- stantly, on the slightest provocation, tensive transactions on hand in the arti- getting himself blown into this same cle of Air-but I have not-been blown Surrey Canal. Will SIR RICHARD to any English place lately, and I very MAYNE see to it, and restrain that seldom have been blown to any English weak-minded and feeble-bodied constaplace in my life, where I could get any ble? thing good to eat and drink in five To resume the consideration of the minutes, or where, if I sought it, I was curious question of Refreshment. I received with a welcome. am a Briton, and, as such, I am aware This is a curious thing to consider. that I never will be a slave —atnd yet I But before (stimulated by my own ex- have a latent suspicion that there must periences and the representations of be some slavery of wrong custom in many fellow-travelers of every uncomn- this matter. mercial and commercial degree) I con- I travel by, railroad. I start from sider it further, I must utter a passing home at seven or eight in the morning, word of wonder concerning hig'h winds. after breakfasting hurriedly. What I wonder why metropolitan gales al- with skimming over the open landscape, ways blow so hard at Walworth. I what with milling in the damp bowels cannot imagine what Walworth has of the earth, what with banging, boom 102 TIIE UNC031MERCIAL TRAVELER. iNg, anid shlrieking the scores of miles lumps of gristle and grease, called away, I arn hungry when I arrive at pork-pie. While thus forlornly occuthe " Refieshment" station where I am pied, I find that the depressing banqluet ex pected. Please to observe, expected. on the table is, in every phase of its I have said, I am hungry'; perhaps I profoundly unsatisfactory characte?, so might say, with greater point and force, like the banquet at the meanest and that I am to some extent exhausted, shabbiest of evening parties, that I beand that I need —in the expressive gin to think it must have " brought French sense of the word —to be re- down" to supper, the old lady unlstored. What is provided for my known, blue with cold, who is setting restoration? The apartment that is to her teeth on edge with a cool orange, restore me, is a Nwind-trap, cunningly at my elbow-that the pastrycook who set to inveigle all the draughts in that has compounded for the company on country-side, and to communicate a the lowest terms per head, is a frauduspecial intensity and velocity to them lent bankrupt, redeeming his contract as they rotate in two hurricanes: one, with the stale stock from his windowabout my wretched head: one, about that, for some unexplained reason, the my wretched legs. The training of the family giving the party have become young ladies behind the counter who my mortal foes, and have given it on are to restore me, has been from their purpose to affront me. Or, I fancy infancy directed to the assumption of a that I am "breaking up" again, at the defiant dramatic show that I am not evening conversazione at school, expected. It is in vain for me to re- charged two-and-sixpence in the halfpresent to them by my huimble and year's bill; or breaking down again at conciliatory manners, thltt I wish to be that celebrated evening party given at liberal. It is in vain for me to repre- Mrs. Bogles's boarding-house when I sent to myself, for the encouragemeznt was a boarder there, on which occasion of my sinking soul, that the young Ina- Mlrs. Bogles was taken in execution 1bj dies have a pecuniary interest in my a branch of the legal profession who arrival. Neither my reason ior my got in as the harp, and was removed feelings can make head against,he cold (with the keys and subscribed capital) glazed glare of eye with which I am to a place of durance, half an hour assured that I am not expected, and prior to the commencement of the fesnot wanted. The solitary man among tivities. the bottles would sometimes take pity Take another case. on me, if he dared, but he is power- Mr. Grazinglands, of the Midland hlss against the rights and miglits of Counties, came to London by railroad Woman. (Of the page I make no ac- one morning last week, accompanied count, for he is a boy, and therefore by thle amiable and fascinating MIrs. the natural enemy of Creation.) Chill- Grazinglands. Mr. G. is a gentleman ing fast, in thle deadly tornadoes to of a comfortable property, and lad which m:y upper anid lower extremities a little business to transact at the are exposed, and subdued by the moral Bank of England, which required the disadvantage at which I stand, I turn concurrence and signature of Mrs. my disconsolate eyes on the refresh- G. Their business disposed of, Mr. ments that are to restore me. I find and Mrs. Granzinglands viewed the that I must either scald my throat by Royal Exchange, and the exterior sf insanely ladling into it, against time St. Paul's Cathedral. The spirits of and for no wager, broswn hot water Mrs. Grazinglands then gradually bestiffened with flour; or, I must make ginning to flag, Mr. Grazinglands (who myself flaky and sick withl Banbury is the tenderest of husbands) remarked cake; or, I must stuff into my delicate with sympathy, "Arabella, my dear, I organization, a currant pincushion fear you are faint." Mrs. Grazingwhich I know will swell into immeasur- lands replied, " Alexander, I am rather able dimensions when it has got there; faint; but don't mind me, I shall be or, I must extort from an iron-bound better presently." Touched by the quarry, with a fork, as if I were farm- feminine meekness of this answer, Mr. ing an inhospitable soil, some glutinous Grazinglands looked in at a pastry THE UNCOMIMERCIAL TRAVELER. 103 cook's wiitdow, hesitating as to the ex- waiter, denuded of his white tie, matking pediency of lunclling at lhat establish- up his cruets behind the Post-office Di ment. He beheld nothing to eat, bnt rectory. The latter (who took them in butter'in various forms, slightly charged hand) was greatly put out by their pawith jam, and languidly frizzling over tronage, and showed his mind to be tepid water. Two ancient turtle-shells, troubled by a sense of the pressing neon which was inscribed the legend, cessity- of instantly smuggling Mrs. Soups," decorated a glass partition Grazirillands into the obscurest corner within, inclosinc a stuffy alcove, from of the building. This slighted lady which a ghastly mockery of a marriare- (who is the piride of her division of the breakfast spread on a rickety table, county) was immediately conveyed, by warned the terrified traveler. An ol- several dark passages, anld up and down long box of stale and broken pastry at several steps, into a penitential apartreduced prices, mounted on a stool, or- ment at the back of the house, where namented the doorway; and two high. five invalided old plate-warmers leaned chairs that looked'as if they were per- up against one another under a disforminf on stilts, embellished the coun- carded old melancholy sideboard, and ter. Over tile whole, a young lady where the wintry leaves of all the presided, whose gloomy haughtiniess as dining-tables in the house lay thick. she surveyed the street, announced a Also, a sofa, of incomprehensible form deep-seated grievance againlst society, regarded from any sofane point of and an impl!acable determrination to be view, murmured "B Ied;" while an air of avetlg-ed. Flom a beetle-haunted kitch- mingled fluffiness and heeltaps, added, en below this institution, fumes arose; "Second Waiter's." Secreted in this disSuggestive of a class of soup which mal hold, objects of a mysteriolus dis-,dMr. Grazinrg!nlll s Iknew, fron: p,\inful trust and suspicion, Mr. Grazinglands ex[)erience, enfeebles the mindl, (listends and his charming partner waited twenty the stomach, forces itself into the com- minutes for the smoke (for it never plexion, and tries to ooze out at tile catme to a fire), twenty-fie minutes for eyes. As he decided against entering, the sherry, half an hour for the tableand turned away, Mrs. Grazinolands, cloth, forty minutes for the knives and becoming perceptibly weaker, repeated, forks, three-quarters of an hour fo)r the "I am rather faint, Alexallder, but chops, and an hour for the potatoes. don't mind me." Urged to nlew efforts On settling the little bill —which was by these words of resignation, Mr. not much mnore than the day's pay of a Grazinglands looked in at a cold and Lieutenant in the navy-Mr. Graziingfloury baker's shop, where utilitarian laInds took heart to remonstrate against buns unrelieved by a currant colaorted the general quality arid cost of his rewith hard biscuits, a stone filter of cold ception. To whom tlhe waiter replied, water, a hard pale clock, and a hard substantially, that Jairing's made it a little old woman with flaxen hair, of an Imerit to have accelpted him on any undeveloped farinaceous aspect, as if terms; "for," added the waiter (unmisshe had been fed upon seeds. I-Ie takably coughing at Mrs. Grazinglands, miglht have entered even here,, but for tlhe pride of her division of the county), the timely remembrance coming upon " when individuals is not staying in the him that Jairinlg's was but routnd the'Ouse, their favors is not as a rule corn er. looked upon as making it wortll NMr. Now, Jairing's being an hotel for Jairillng's while; nor is it, indeed, a families and gentlemen, in hiogh repuite style of business Mr. Jairing wisl-ls." among the midland counties, Mr. Graz- Finally, M1r. and Mrs. Grazinglands inglalnds i)lucked up a great sp)irit Nwhen passed out of Jairing's hotel for Faimihe told Mrs. Grazilngllllids sle should lies and Gentlemen, in a state of the have a chop there. Tlbat lad"y, like- greatest depression, scorned by tile bar; wise, felt that she was goil(r to see land did not recover their self-respect Life. Arriving on that gay andl festive for several days. scene, they found the second \waiter, il Or take another case. Take your a flabby undress, cleaninig tite \Iiidon's own case. of the empty coffee-roolm, and the first You are going off by railway, from 104 THE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. any Terminus. You have twenty mi- a table napkin folded cocked-hat-wise, nutes for dinner before you go. You (slowly, for something out of window want your dinner, and, like Doctor engages his eye), a white wine-glass, a Johnson, sir, you like to dine. You green wine-glass, a blue finger-glass, a present to your mind, a'picture of tumbler, and a powerfil field battery the refreshment-table at that termi- of fourteen castors with nothing in nus. The conventional shabby even- them: or at all events — which is ing party supper-accepted as the mo- enough for your purpose-with nodel for all termini and all refreshment thing in thlem tlhat will come out. All stations, because it is the last repast this time, the other waiter looks at you known to this state of existence of -with an air of mental comparison which any human creature would par- and curiosity, now, as if it had octake, but in the direst extremity-sick- curred to him that you are rather like ens your contemplation, and your his brother. Half your time gone, and words are these: "I cannot dine on nothing come but the jug of ale and stale sponge-cakes that turn to sand in the bread, you implore your waiter to the mouth. I cannot dine on shining "see after that cutlet, waiter; pray do." brown patties, composed of unknown He cannot go at once, for he is carryanimals within, and offering to my ing in seventeen pounds of American view the device of an indigestible cheese for you to finish with, and a star-fish in leaden pie-crust without. small Landed Estate of celery and waI cannot dine on a sandwich that has tercress. The other waiter changes his long been pining under an exhausted leg, and takes a new view of youreceiver. I cannot dine on barley- doubtfully, now, as if he had rejected sugar. I cannot dine on Toffee." You the resemblance to lis brother, and had repair to the nearest hotel, and arrive, begun to think you more like iis aunt agitated, in the coffee-room. or his grandmother. Again you beIt is a most astonishing fact that the seech your waiter with pathetic indigwaiter is very cold to you. Account nation, to "see after that cutlet!" lie for it how you may, smooth it over how steps out to see after it, and by-and-by, fou will, you cannot deny that he is when you are going away without it, cold to you. lie is not glad to see you, comes back with it. Even then, he he does not want you, he would much will not take the sham silver-cover off, rather you hadn't come. He opposes without a pause for a flourish, and a to your flushed condition, an immov- look at the musty cutlet as if he were able composure. As if this were not surprised to see it-which cannot posenough, another waiter, born, as it sibly be the case, he must have seen it would seem, expressly to look at you so often before. A sort of fur has been in this passage of your life, stands at a produced upon its surface by the cook's little distance, with his napkin under art, and, in a sham silver vessel staghis arm and his hands folded, looking gering on two feet instead of three, is at you with all his might. You im- a cutaneous kind of sauce, of brown press on your waiter that you have ten pimples and pickled cucumber. You minutes for dinner, and he proposes order the bill, but your waiter cannot that you shall begin with a bit of fish bring your bill yet, because he is bringwhich will be ready in twenty. That ing, instead, three flinty-hearted potaproposal declined, he suggests-as a toes and two grim head of broccoli, neat originality —"a weal or mutton like the occasional ornaments on area outlet." You close with either cutlet, railings, badly boiled. You know that any cutlet, any thing. He goes, lei- you will never come to this pass, any surely, behind a door, and calls down more than to the cheese and celery, and some unseen shaft. A ventriloquial you imperatively demand your bill; but dialogue ensues, tending finally to the it takes time to get, even when gone effect that weal only, is available on for, because your waiter has to comlluthe spur of the moment. You anx- nicate with a lady who lives belhin a iously call out "Veal then l" Your sash-wivndow in a corner, and who aip. waiter, having settled that point,'re- pears to have to refer to several Ledgers turns to array your table-cloth, with before she can make it ont —as if you THE UNCOMMIERCIAL TRAVELER. 105 had been staying there a year. You Or lastly, take, to finish with, two become distracted to get away, and the cases that we all know, every day. other waiter, once more changing his We all know the new hotel near the leg, still looks at you-but suspiciously, station, where it is always gusty, going now, as if you had begun to remind up the lane which is always muddy, him of the party whb took the great- where we are sure to arrive at night, coats last winter. Your bill at last and whr we make the gas start awbrought and paid, at the rate of six- fully when we'open the front door. pence a mouthful, your waiter reproach- We all know thy flooring of the pasfully reminds you that "attendance is sages and staircases that is too new, not charged for a single meal," and -and the walls that are too new, and the you have to search in all your pockets house that is haunted by the ghost of for sixpence more. He has a worse mortar. We'dl know tle doors that have opinion of you than ever, when you cracked, and the cracked shuttersthrough have given it to him, and lets you out which we get a glimpse of the disconsointo the street with the air of one say- late moon. We all know the new people ing to himself, as you cannot doubt he who have comec to keep the new hotel, is. "I hope we shall never see you and who wish they had never come, and here again!" who (inevitable result) wish.we bad Or, take any other of the numerous never come. We- all know how much traveling instances in which, with m'de too scant and smooth and bright the tine at your disposal, you are, have new furniture is, and how it has never been, or may be, equally ill-served. settled down, and cannot fit itself into Take the old-established Bull's Head right places, and will get into wrong with its old-established knife-boxes on places. We all know how the gas, being its old-established sideboards, its old- lighted, shows maps of damp upon the established flue under its old-estab- walls. We all know how the ghost of lished four-post bedsteads in its old- mortar passes into our sandwich, stirs established airless rooms, its old-estab- our negus, goes up to bed with us, aslished frouziness up-stairs and down- cends the plale bedroom chimney, and stairs, its old-established cookery, and prevents the smoke from following. We its old-established principles of plunder. all know how a leg of our chair comes Count up your injuries, in its side- off at breakfast in the morning, and dishes of ailing sweet breads in white how tile dejected waiter attributes the poultices, of apothecaries' powders in accident to a general greenness pervadri-e for curry, of pale stewed bits of ing the establishment, and informs us, calf ineffectually relying for an adventi- in reply to a local inquiry, that he is thanktious interest on forcemeat balls. You ful to say he is an entire stranger in that. have had experience of the old-estab- part of thie country, andis going back to lished Bull's Head's stringy fowls, with his own connection on Saturday. lower extremities like wooden legs, We all know, on the other hand, the sticking up out of the dish; of its can- great station hotel belonging to the nibalic boiled mutton, gushing horri- company of proprietors, which has sudbly among its capers, when carved; of denrly sprung up in the back outskirts its little dishes of pastry —roofs of of any place we like to name, and where spermaceti ointment, erected over half we look out of our palatial windows, at an -apple or four gooseberries. Well little back yards and gardens, old suimfor you if you have yet forgotten the mer-houses, fbwl-houses, pigeon-trap,, old-cest'blished Bull's Head's fruity and pig-sties. We all know this hoLWl port: whose reputation was gained in which we can get any thing we want, solely by the old-established price the after its kind, for money; but where no13ull's Head put upon it, and by the body is glad to see us, or sorry to see us, old-established air withll which the Bull's or mind6 (our bill paid) whether we cotne Head set the glasses antd D'Oyleys on, or go, or how, or when, or why, or cares and held that Liquid Gout to the three- about us. We all know this hotel, where and-sixpenny wax-candle, as if its old-. we have no individuality, but put ourestablished color hadn't coime from the selves into the general post, as it were, and dyer's. are sorted and disposed of according to 106 THE UNCOMMIERCIAL TRAVELER. our division. We all know that we "What do you do there?' says I can get on very well indeed at such a " I go to school," says he. place, but still not perfecly well; and I took him upl ill a moment, and we this may be, because the place is largely went on. Presently the very queer wholesale, and there is a lingering per- small boy said, " This is Gadshill we are sonal retail interest within us that coming to, where Falstaff went out to asks to be satisfied. rob those travelers, and ran away." To sum up. My uncommercial tra- "You know somethilng about Falvelling has not yet brought me to the staff, eh?" said I. conclusion that iwe are close to perfec- "All about him," said the very queer tion in these matters. And last as I snwall boy. "I am old (I am lnine), do nriot believe that the end of the all I read all sorts of books. lBut do world will ever be near at hand, so long let us stop at the top of the hlill, and as any of the very tiresome and arro- look at the house there, if you please!" gant people who constantly predict that "You admiire tlhat house?" said I. catastrophe are left in it, so, I shall "Bless you, sir," said the very queer have sinall faith in the Hotel Millen- small boy, " when I was not Inmore than nium, while any of the uncomfortable half as old as nine, it used to be a treat superstitions I have glanced at, remain for me to be brought to look at it. in existence. And now, I am nine, I come by myself to look at it. And ever since I cutn I GOT into the traveling chariot-it recollect, my father seeitng el so fo.nd was of German make, roomy, heavy, of it, has often said to me,'If you were and unvarnished-I got iln to the travel- to be very persevering and were to work ing chariot, pulled up the steps after hard, you might some day come to live me, shut myself in with a smlart bang of in it.' Though that's impossible!" the door, and gave the word " Go on I"l said the very queer small boy, drawing Immediately, all that W. and S. W. a low breath, and now staring at the division of London began to slide house out of window with all his away at a pace so lively that I was over might. the river and past the Old Kent road, I was rather amazed to be told this and out on Blackheath, and even as- by the very queer small boy; for that cending ShooterJs H1ill, before I had had house happens to be my house, and I time to look about me in the carriage, have reason to believe that what he said like a collected traveler. was true. I had two ample Imperials on the Well! I made no halt there, and I roof, other fitted storage for luggage in soon. dropped the very queer small boy front, and other up behind; I had a and went on. Over the road where the net for books overhead, great pockets old Romans used to march, over the to all the windows, a leathern pouch or road where the old Canterbury pilgrimas two hung up for odds and ends, and a used to go, over the road where the reading-lamp fixed in the back of the traveling trains of the old imlperious chariot, in case I should be benighted. priests and princes used to jinlgle on I was amply provided in all respects, horseback between the continlent anid and had no idea where I was going this Island through the mud and water, (which was delightful), except that I over the road where Shakespeare was going abroad. hummed to himself, "Blow, blow, thou So smooth was the old high road, and winter wind,"' as he sat in the saddle at so fresh were the horses, and so fast the gate of the inn yard noticinlg the went I, that it was midway between carriers; all among tle cherry orchards, Gravesend and RPochester, and the apple orchards, corn-fields, and ho)widening river was bearing the ships, gardens; so neunt I, by Canterbury to white-sailed or black-smoked, out to Dover. There, the sea was tumbling sea, when I noticed by the wayside a in, with deep sounds, after dark, and very queer small boy. the revolving French light onl Cape "Halloa 1" said I, to the very q, eer Grinez was seen regularly bursting out small boy, "where do you live?" and becoming obscured, as if the head "At Chatham," says he. of a gigantic light-kt eper in an anxious TIIE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. 107 state of -mind were interposed evewyl " It is vwell," said I, scattering anmong half minute, to look how it was burning.:-thlemn what small coinl I had; " here Early in the'morning I was on thle comes Louis, and I am quite roused deck of the steam-packet, and we were from my nap." ai minlg at tlie bar in the usual intolerable We journeyed on again, and I welmanner, and the bar was aimling at us ill comed every no.w rl.~,,,n f l,, rn... the usual intolerable manner, and the stood where I had left it. There were 1,ar got'by far the best of it, and Nwe got t lie postinlo-houses, with their archways, b' far the worst-all in the usual in- dirty stilhle-yyaSrds,, and clean!,ost-mnastolerable manner. ters' twives, bright women of business, But, when I was clear of the Custom looking on at, the putting-to of the 1Touse on the other side, and when I horses; there were the postillions conntb.egan to make the dust fly on the thirsty ing what monley they got, into their liats, Frlenlh lroacls, and when the twigsoime and never makilng enouth of it; tllere trees by the wayside (which, I suppose, were the standard pop)ulatioan of gray never will grow leafy, for they never horses of Flanders descenlt, invariably did) guarded here and there a dusty liting one another when they got a soldier, or field laborer, bakingr on a cllance; there were the fleecy sheepheap of broken stones, sound asleep in skins, looped on over their uniforms by a fiction of shade, I began to recover the postillions, like bibbed aprons, when my traveling spirits. Coming upon the it blew and rained; there were their breaker of the broken stones, in a haid, jack-boots, and their cracking whipls; hot, shimlinig hat, on which the sun played there were the cathedrals that I got out at a distanice as on a burning-glass, I to see, as under some cruel bondage, in felt that now, indeed, I was in the clear no wise desiring to see them; there old France of my affections. I should were the little towns that appeared to have known it, without the well-remnem- have no reason for being towils, since bered bottle of rough ordinary winte, mnost of their houses were to let and the cold roast fowl, the loaf, and the nobody could be induced to lock at pintch of salt; onl which I lunched with them, except the people who couldn't unspeakable satisfaction, from one of the let them and had nothing else to do but stuffed pockets of the chariot. look at them all day. I lay a night I must have fallen asleep after lunch, upon the road and enjoyed delectable for whet. a bright face looked in at the cookery of potatoes, and some other window, I started, and said: sensible things, adoption of which at "Good God, Louis, I dreamed you home would inevitably be shown to be were dead!1' fraught with ruin, sornehow or other, to My cheerful servant laughed, and an- that rickety national blessing, the Briswered: tish farmer; and at last I was rattled, " Me? Not at all, sir." like a single pill in a box, over leagales "How glad I am to wake I What of stones, until —madly cracking, plungare we doing, Louis?" ing, and flourishing two gray tails "We go to take relay of horses. about-I made my triumphal entry into Will you walk up the hill?' Paris. "Certainly." At Paris I took an upper apartment Welcome the old French hill, with for a few days in one of the hotels of the old French lunatic (not in the most the Rue de Rivoli: my front windows distant degree related to Sterne's Maria) looking into the gapden of the Tuileries living im a thatched dog-kennel half way (whlere the principal difference between up, and flyingi out with his crutch, antd the nursemaids and the flowers seemed his'bl)i head and extended niglitcap, to to be that the former were locomotive, be beforehland with the old meni and and the latter not): my back windows women exhibiting crippled children, and looking at all the other back windows with the children exhibiting old men in the hotel, and deep down into a and women, ugly and blind, who always paved yard, where my German chariot seemed by resurrectionary process to be had retired under a tight-fitting arch. recalled out of the elements for the sud- way, to all appearance, for life, and den peopling of the solitude l where bells rang all day without fa 108 THE UNCOIMME-P..;fAL TRAVELER. body's minding them but certain cham- The bath was crowded in the usual berlains with feather brooms and green airy manner, by a male population in baize caps, who here and there leaned striped drawers of various gay colors, out of some high window placidly look- who walked up and down arm in arm, ing down, and where neat waiters with drank coffee, smoked cigars, sat at little trays on their left shoulders passed and tables, conversed politely with the damrepassed from morning to night. sels who dispensed the towels, and, Whenever I am at Paris, I am every now and then pitched themselves dragged by invisible force into the into the river head foremost, and came Morgue. I never want to go there, out again to repeat this social routine. but am always pulled there. One I made haste to participate in the Christmas Day, when I would rather water part of the entertainments, and have been anywhere else, I was at- was in the full enjoyment of a delighttracted in, to see an old gray man lying ful bath, when all in a moment I was all alone on his cold bed, with a tap of seized by an unreasonable idea that the water turned on over his gray hair, and large dark body was floating straight running drip, drip, drip, down his at me. wretched face until it got to the corner I was out of the river and dressing of his mouth, where it took a turn and instantly. In the shock I had taken made him look sly. One New Year's some water into my mouth, and it Morning (by the same token, the sun turned me sick, for I fancied that the was shining outside, and there was a contamination of the creature was in it. mountebank balancing a feather on his I had got back to my coo] darkened nose, within a yard of the gate), I was room in the hotel, and was lying on a pulled in again, to look at a flaxen- sofa there, before I began to reason haired boy of eighteen with a heart with myself. hanging on his breast —" From his mo- Of course, I knew perfectly well that ther," was engraven on it-who had the large dark creature was stone dead, come into the net across the river, with and that I should no more come upon a bullet-wound in his fair forehead and him out of the place where I had seen his ha, ds cut with a knife, but whence him dead, than I should come upon the or how was a blank mystery. This time cathedral of Notre-Dame in an entirely I was i )rced into the same dread place, new situation. What troubled me was to see a large dark man whose disfiglure- the picture of the creature; and that ment by water was, in a frightful manner, hlad so curiously and strongly painted comic, and whose expression was that itself upon my brain, that I could not of a p'ize-fighter who had closed his get rid of it until it was worn out. eyelids under a heavy blow, but was I noticed the peculiarities of this going immediately to open them, shake possession, while it was a real discomhis head, and "come up smiling." Oh fort to me. That very day, at dinner, what tliis large dark man cost me in some morsel on my plate looked like a that bright city! piece of him, and I was glad to get up It was very. hot weather, and he was and go out. Later in the evening, I none the better for that, and I was was walking along the Rue St. Honore, much the worse. Indeed, a very neat when I saw a bill at a public room and pleasant little woman with the key there, announcing small-swocrd exercise, of her lodging on her forefinger, who broad-sword exercise, wrestling, and had beau showing him to her little girl other such feats. I went in, and, some while she and tile chilld ate sweetmeats, of the sword play being very skillful, reobserved mollsieur lookltilg poorly as we mained. A specimen of our own nacame out togethler, anrd afskled monsieur, tional sport, the British Boaxe, was with her wonderiti, little eyebrows announced to be given at the close of prettily raised, if there were any thing the evening. In an evil hour, I deterthe matter? Faintly replying in the mined to wait for this Boaxe, as became negative, monsieur crossed tile road to a Briton. It was a clumsy specimen a wine-shop, got sonme bralndy, and (executed by two English grooms out resolved to freshen himself with acl dip in I of place), but, one of the combatants, the great floati ig bath on the river. I receiving a straight right-hander, with TIIE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. 109 the glove between his eyes, did exactly in a lonely bedroom against its will, what the large dark creature in the and you had better murder it. Morgue had seemed going to do —and On a bright morning I rattled away finished me for that night. from Paris, in the German chariot, and There was a rather sickly smell (not left the large dark creature behind mne at all an unusual fragrance in Paris) in for good. I ought to confess, though, the little anteroom of my apartment that I had been drawn back to the at the hotel. The large dark creature Morgue, after he was put under ground, in the Morgue was by no direct expe- to look at his clothes, and that I found rience associated with my sense of them frightfully like him-particularly smell, because, whep I came to the his boots. However, I rattled away knowledge of him, he lay behind a for Switzerland, looking forward and wall of thick plate-glass, as good as a not backward, and so we parted comwall of steel or marble for that matter. pany. Yet the whiff of the room never failed Welcome again, the long long spell to reproduce him. What was more of France, with the queer country inns, curious was the capriciousness with full of vases of flowers, and clocks, in which his portrait seemed to light itself the dull little towns, and with the little ulp in my nixnd, elsewhere; I might population not at all dull on the little be walking in the Palais Royal, lazily Boulevard in the evening, under the enjoying the shop windows, and might little trees I Welcome Monsieur the be regaliilg myself with one of the Curd walking alone in the early mornready-made clothes shops that are set ing a short way out of the town, readout there. My eyes, wandering over ing that eternal Breviary of yours, impossible-waisted dressing-gowns and which surely might be almost read, luminous waistcoats, would fall upon without book, by this time? Welcome the master, or the shop-man, or even Monsieur the Cur6, later in the day, the very dummy at the door, and would jolting through the highway duct (a3 suggest to me, "Something like him!" if you had already ascended to tbhs -— and instantly I was sickened again. cloudy region), in a very big-headed This would happen at the theatre, in cabriolet, with the dried mud of a dozen the same manner. Often, it would winters on it. WVelcome again Monhappen in the street, when I certainly sieur the Curd, as we exchange saluwas not looking for the likeness, and tations: you, straightening your back when probably there was no likeness to look at the German chariot, while there. It was not because the creature picking in your little village garden a was dead that I was so haunted, be- vegetable or two for the day's soup; I, cause I know that I might have been looking out of the German chariot (and I know it because I have been) window in that delicious traveler'sequally attended by the image of a liv- trance which knows no cares, no yester. iLg aversion. This lasted about a week. days, no to-morrows, nothing but the T'he picture did not fade by degrees, in passing objects and the passing scents the sense that it became a whit less and sounds! And so I came in due forcible and distinct, but in the sense course of delight, to Strasbourg, where that it obtruded itself less and less fre- I passed a wet Sunday evening at a quently. The experience may be worth window, while an idle trifle of a vaudeconsidering by some who have the care ville was played for me at the opposite of children. It would be difficult to house. overstate the intensity and accuracy of How such a large house came to an intelligent child's observation. At have only three people living in it, was that impressible time of life, it must its own affair. There were at least a sometimes produce a fixed impression. score of windows in its high roof alone; If the fixed inipression be of an object how many in its grotesque front, I sooil terrible to the chiid, it will be (for gave up counting. The owner was a want of reasoning upon) inseparable shopkeeper, by name Straudenheim; from great fear. Force the child at by trade-I couldn't make out what by such a tine, be Spartan with it, send it trade, for he had forborne to write that into the dark against its will, leave it up, and his shop was shut. 1.10 TIIE UNCOMITIERCITAL TRAVELER. At first, as I looked at Strauden- I and then they both softly opened the heini's through thle steadily falling rain, other window of that roomt-which was I set him up in business in the goose- immediately over the hlousekeeper'sliver line. But, inspection of Strau- and tried to see her by looking down. denheilm, who became visible at a win- And my opinion of Straudenheim was dow on the second floor, convinced me much lowered Nlwhen I saw that emilnent that there was soinethiio more precious citizen spit out of window, clearly with than liver ill tle case. Ile wore a the hope of spittiiig on the houseblack velvet slkull-cap, alid looked usu- keeper. rious and rich. A large-lipped, pealr- Tlle unconscious housekeeper fanned nosed old man, with w\ lite hair, and herself, tossed hler head, antd ]auglled. keen eyes; thiough near-siglited. Ile Though unconscious of Straudelnheilm, was writllglo at a desk, was Strauden- she was coiscious of somebody elseheim, aiid ever and a,, ail left off writ- of nle?-there iwas nobody else. ing, put his peki ill his mouth, and went After lean11ing so far out of wilidow, through actionis -itih his right hand, that I confidently expected to see their like a man steadyiiig piles of cash. heels tilt up, Straudellheim aniid the lean Five-franc l)ieces, Strauldelnheim, or man drew tlheir heads in alid shut tlhe golden Napoleonis? A jesweler, Strau- window. Presently, the house door sedenheiml, a dealer ill money, a diamond cretly opeiied, and. they slowly and merchant, or x hat? spitefully crept forth into the pourinlg Below Straudehieim, (at a window rain. Thely were coming over to lie on the first floor, sat his housekeeper- (I thought) to demiand satisfaction fir far froml younl, but of a comely pre- my looking at the houselkeepl:er, wxlle sence, suggestive of a well-lnatured foot they plunged iiito a recCess in the artliiand ankle. She was cheerily dressed, tecture under -my wilndow, and dra'ecld had a fan in her hand, aiid wore large out the puniest of little soldiers begirlt gold earrings ald a laroe gold cross. with the most innocent of little swordll, She would have been out holiday-mak- The tall glazed hlead-dress of this walring (as I settled it) but for the pesti- rior, Straudenheiml instantly klocked lent rain. Strasbourg had given up off, and out of it fell two suogar-sticels, holiday-makinll for that oiice, as a bad and three or four large lumps of sutlar. job, because the raiii was jerking in The Warrior imade no effort to regushes out of the old roof-stpouts, and cover his property or to pick up-) his running in a brook down the mliddle of shako, but looked with an expression the street. The housekeeper, her arms of attention at Straudenheim \hlieil lie folded on her bosom and her fan' tap- kicked him five times, and also at tlhe ping her chin, was bright and smiling lean mall when he kicked him five at her -open window, but otherwise times, and again at Straudenheim whenl Straudenhlleim's house front was very lie tore the breast of his (the warrior's) dreary. The housekeeper's was the little coat openi, and shook all his ten only open window inl it; Straudenheim finlgers inl his face, as if they were tell kept himself close, thouglh it was a sul- thousand. When these outrages had try evening when air is pleasant, and been committed, Straudenheim and his though the rain had brought iiito the man went into the house agail alnd town that vague refreshing smell of barred the door. A wonderful cirelllmgrass which raini does briilg in the sumn- stance was, that the housekeeper, wlho imer-time., saw it all (and who could have taken The dim appearance of a man at six such warriors to her buxom bosorm Straudenheini's shoulder, inspired me' at once), oiily fanlned herself; aid with a misgiving that somebody had laughed as she had laughed before, alsl come to murder that flourishing mer- seemed to have no opinion about it, chant for the wealth with which I had one way or other. handsomely endowed him: the rather, But, the chief effect of the drama as it was an excited man, lean and long was the remarkable vengeance tcakenu by of figure, and evidently stealthy of foot. the little warrior. Left alone in the Bui, he conferred with Straudenheim rain, he picked up his shako; put it on, instead of doing him a mortal injury, all wvet and dirty as it was; retired into TEIE TUNCOMMERCIAL TRAYELER. 111 a court, of which Straudenheimn's house up, up, through mist and rair, with the formed the corner; wheeled about; and roar of fallinlg water for chalge of bringing his two forefingers close to the music. Of a sudden, mist and rain top of his nose, rubbed them over one would clear away, anld I would come another, crosswise, it: derision, defic uce, down into picturesque little towns with and contempt of St-audenheim. Al- gleaming spires and odd towers; and tlhough Straudenheim could not possi- would stroll afoot into market-places in bly be supposed to be conscious of this steep winding streets, where a hundred strange proceeding, it so inflated and women in bodices, sold dggs and honey, comniforted the little warrior's soul, that butter and fruit, and suckled their chiltwice he went away, and twice came back dren as they sat by their clean baskets, into the court to repeat it, as though it and had such enormous goitres (or must goad }his en)emy'to madness. Not glandular swellings'n the throat) tlhat only that, but he afterward came back it became a science to know wliere the with two other small warriors, and they nurse ended aiid the child beg'an. About all three did it together. Not only that tlis time, I deserted my German chariot -as I live to tell the tale!-but just as for the back of a mule (in color and it was falling quite dark, the three came consistency so very like a dusty old hair back, bringing with them a huge, trunk I once had at school, that I half bearded Sapper, whom they moved, by expected to see my initials in brassrecital of the original wrong,, to go headed nails on his backbone), and went through the same performance, with up a thousand rugged ways, and looked the same complete absence of all possi- down at a thousand woods of fir and ble knowledge of it on the part of pine, and would on the whole have preStraudenlieim. And then they all went ferred my mule's keeping a little nearer away, arm in arm, singing'. to the inside, and not usually traveling I went away, too, in the German with a hoof or two over the precipice, chariot, at sunrise, and rattled on, day though much consoled by explanation after day, like one in a sweet dream; that this was to be attributed to his with so many clear little bells oln the great sagacity, by reason of his carryharness of the horses, that the nursery ing broad loads of wood at other times, rhyme about Banbury Cross antd the and not being clear but that I myself veneraLle lad) who rode in state there, belonged to that station of life, and rewas always inr my ears. And now I quired as much roomn as they. lIe came into the land of wooden houses, brought me safely, in his own wise innocent cakes, thin butter soup, and way, among the passes of the All)s, spotless little inn bedrooms with a and here I enjoyed a dozeni climates family likeness -to Dairies.. And now a day; being now (like Don Quixote the Swiss marksmen were for ever rifle- on the back of the wooden horse) in shooting at marks across gorges, so the region of wind, now i'n the reexceedingly near my ear, that I felt gion of fire, and now in the region like a new Gesler in a Canton of Tells, of unmelting ice and snow. Hiere, I and went in highly-deserved danger of passed over trembling domes of ice, bemy tyrannical life. The prizes at these neath which the cataract was roaring; shootings, were watches, smart hand- and here was received under arches of kerchiefs, hats, spoons, and (above all) icicles, of unspeakable beauty; and here tea-trays; and at these contests I came the sweet air was so bracing and so upon a more than usually accomplished light, that at halting-times I rolled in and amiable countryman of my own, the snow when I saw my mule do it, who had shot himself deaf in whole thinking that he must know best. At years of competition, and had won so this part of the journey we would conie, many tea-trays, that he went about the at mid-day, into half an hour's thaw country with his carriage full of them, when the rough mountain inn would be like a glorified Cheap Jack. found on an island of deep mud in a sea In the mountain country into which of snow, while the baiting strings of I had now traveled, a yoke of oxen mules, and the carts full of casks and were sometimes hooked on before the bales, which had been in an Arctic coupost-horses, and I went lumbering up, ditior a mile off, would steam again. 11)2 EHE UNCOrMMERCIAL TRAVELER. By such ways and means, I would come r.nous magnifications of this goose-quill to the cluster of chatlets where I 1 ad to pen that is lnow in my hand. turn out of the track to see the wvater- The sky became overcast without fall; and then, uttering a howl like a any notice; a wind very like'the MNarch young giant, on espying a traveler-in east wind of England, blew across me; other words, something to eat-coming and a voice said, "How do you like it? up the steep, the idiot lying on the wood- Will it do?" pile who sunned himself and nursed his I had merely shut myself, for half a goitre, would rouse the woman-guide minute, in a German traveling chariot within the hut, who would stream out that stood for sale in the Carriage Dehastily, throwing her child over one of partment of the London Pantechnicon. her shoulders and her goitre over the I had a commission to buy it, for a other, as she came along. I slept at friend who was going abroad; and the religious houses, and bleak refuges of look and manner of the chariot, as I many kinds, on this journey, and by the tried the cushions and the springs, stove at night heard stories of travelers brought all these hints of traveling rewho had perished within call, in wreaths men-brance before me. and drifts of snow. One night the "It will do very well," said 1, rather stove within, and the cold. outside, sorrowfully, as I got out at the other awakened childish associaions long for- door, and shut the carriage up. gotten, and I dreamed I was in Russia -the identical serf out of a picture- I TRAVEL constantly, up and down a book I had, before I could read it for certain line of railway that has a termyself-and that I was going to be minus in London. It is the railway for knouted by a noble personage in a fur a large military depot, and for other cap, boots, and earrings, who, I think, large barracks. To the best of my must have come out of some melo- serious belief, I have never been on that drama. railway by daylight, without seeing Commend me to the beautiful waters some handcuffed deserters in the train. among these mountains I Though I It is in the nature of things that such was not of their mind: they, being in- an institution as our English army veterately bent on getting down into should have many bad and troublesome the level country, and I ardently de- characters in it. But, this is a reason siring to linger where I was. What for, and not against, its being made as desperate leaps they took, what dark acceptable as possible to well-disposed abysses they plunged into, what rocks men of decent behavior. Such men are they wore away, what echoes they in- assuredly not tempted into the ranks, voked I In one part where I went, they by the beastly inversion of natural laws, were pressed into the service of carry- and the compulsion to live in worse than ing, wood down, to be burned next win- swinish foulness. Accordingly, when ter, as costly fuel, in Italy. But, their any such Circumlocutional embellishfierce savage nature was not to be easily ments of the soldiers condition have of constrained, and they fought with every late been brought to notice, we civilians, limb of the wood; whirling it round seated in outer darkness cheerfully mecdiand round, stripping its bark away, tating on an Income Tax, have condashing it against pointed corners, sidered the matter as being our business, driving it out of the course, and roar- and have shown a tendency to declare ing and flying at the peasants who that we would rather not have it missteered it back again fiom the bank regulated, if such declaration may, withwith long stout poles. Alas!. concur- out violence to the Church Catechism, rent streams of time and water carried be hinted to those who are put in aunme down fast, and I came, on an ex- thority over us. quisitely clear day, to the Lausanne Any animated description of a moshore of th'e Lake of Geneva, where I dern battle, any private soldier's letter stood looking at the bright blue water, published in the newspapers, any page the flushed white mountains opposite, of the records of the Victoria Cross, and the boats at my feet with their furled will show that in the. ranks of the army, Mediterranean sails, showing like enor- the, e exists under all disadvantages as THE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAYELER. 118 fine a sense of duty as is to be found in authorities can have no. small rtaliaany station on earth. Who doubts that tions and revenres. It will have made if we all did our duty as faithfully as every provision for their health on the the soldier does his, this world would passage home, and will have landed be a better place? There may be them, restored from their campaigning greater difficulties in our way than in fatigue by a sea-voyage, pure air, sound the soldier's. Not disputed. But, let food, and good medicines. And I us at least do our duty toward him. - pleased myself with dwellinbg beforeI had got back again to that rich hand, on the great accounts of their port where so many snares are set for personal treatment which these men Mercantile Jack, and I was walking up would carry into their various towns a hill there, on a wild March morning. and villages, and on the increasing My conversation with my official friend popularity of the service that would inPangloss, by whom I was accidently sensibly follow. I almost began to accompanied, took this direction as we hope that the hitherto-never-failing took the up-hill direction, because the deserters on my railroad, would by-andobject of my uncommercial journey was by become a phenomenon. to see some discharged soldiers who In this agreeable frame of mind I had recently come home from India. entered the workhouse of LiverpoolThere were men of HAVELOCK'S among For, the cultivation of Laurels in a them; there were men who had been in sandy soil, had brought the soldiers in many of the great battles of the great question to that abode of Glory. Indian campaign, among them; and I Before going into their wards to was curious to note what our discharged visit them, I inquired how they had soldiers looked like, when they were made their triumphant entry there? done with. They had been brought through the I was not the less interested (as I rain in carts, it seemed, from the land. mentioned to my official friend Pan- ing-place to the gate, and had then gloss) because these men had claimed been carried up stairs on the backs of to be discharged, when their, right to paupers. Their groans and pains dube discharged was not admitted. They ring the performance of this glorious had behaved with unblemished fidelity pageant, had been so distressing, as to and bravery; but a change of circum- bring tears into the eyes of spectators stances had arisen, which, as they con- but too well accustomed to scenes of sidered, put an end to their compact suffering. They were so dreadfully and entitled them to enter on a new cold, that those who could get near, the one. Their demand had been blunder- fires were hard to be restrained from ingly resisted by the authorities in In- thrusting their feet in among the blazing dia; but, it is to be presumed that the coals. They were so horribly reduced, men were not far wrong, inasmuch as that they were awful to look upon. the bungle had ended in their being Racked with dysentery and blackened sent home discharged, in pursuance of with scurvy, one hundred and forty orders from home. (There was an wretched men had been revived with immense waste of money, of course.) brandy and laid in bed., Under these circumstances-thought I, My official friend Pangloss is lineally as I walked up the hill, on which I acci- descended from a learned doctorF-f that dentally encountered my official friend name, who was once tutor to Candide, — under these circumstances of the men an ingenuous young gentleman of some having successfully opposed themselves celebrity. In his personal character, to the Pagoda Department of that he is as humane and worthy a gentlegreat Circumlocution Office, on which man as any I know; in his official the sun never sets and the light of rea- capacity, he unfortunately preaches the son never rises, the Pagoda Depart- doctrines of his renowned ancestor, by ment will have been particularly careful demonstrating on all occasi)*s that we of the national honor. It will have live in the best of all possible official shown these men, in the scrupulous worlds. good faith, not to say the generosity, of " In the name:f Hfumanity," said I, its dealing with them, that great national " how did the men fall into this deplor. 114 TIIE UNCOIMMERCIAL TRAVELE,. able state? Was the ship well found best of ali possible-' when an in. in stores?" convenient medical forefinger pointed "I am not here to asseverate that I out another passage in the evidence, know the fact, of my own knowledge," fioro which it appeared that the limeanswered Panfgloss, "but I have grounds juice had been bad too. Not to menfor asserting that the stores were the tion. that the vinegar had been bad too, best of all possilble stores." the vegetables bad too, the cooking A medical officer laid before us, a accommodation insufficient (if there had handful of rotten biscuit, and a hand- been any thing worth mentioning to fiul of split peas The biscuit was a cook), the water supply exceedingly honey-combed. heap of maggots, and inadequate, and the beer sour. the excrement of macg(rots. The peas "Then, the men," said Pangloss, a were even hardcer than this filth. A little irritated, " were the worst of all sirnilar handfiul had been exp-erimentally possible men." boiled, six hours, and had shown no " In what respect?" I asked. signs of softenin. These were the " Oh! Habitual drunkards," said stores on which the soldiers had been fed. Pangloss. "The beef -" I began, when Pan- But, again the same incorrigible gloss cut me short. medical forefinger pointed out another " Wras the best of all possible beef," passage in the evidence, showAing that said he. the dead men had been examined after But, behold, there was laid before us death, and that they, at least, could not certain evidence given at the.-.oner's possibly have been habitual drunkards, Inquest, holden on some o' 6he men because the organs within them which (who had olstinately died of their must have shown traces of that llabit, treatment), and from that evidence it were perfectly sound. appeared that the beef was the wcrst "And besides," said the three lot. of all possible beef!'tDr: present, one and all, "habituall "Then I lay my hand upon my heart, drunkards brought as low as these and take my stand," said Pangloss, men have been, could not recover under " by the pork, which was the best of care and food, as the great majority of all possible pork." these men are recovering. They would "But look at this food before our not have strength of constitution to eyes, if one may so misuse the word," do it." said I. " Would any Inspector who "Reckless and improvident dogs, did his duty, pass such abomination?" then," said Pangloss. " Always aR-e"It ought not to have been passed," nine times out of ten." Pangrloss admitted. I turned to the master of the work" Then the authorities out there- ". house, and asked him whether the men I began, when Pangloss cut me short had any money? again.'" Money?" said he. "I have in my "There would certainly seem to have iron safe, nearly four hundred pounds been something wrong somewhere," of theirs; the agents have nearly a said lie; " but I am prepared to prove hundred pounds more; and many of that the authorities oat there, are the them have left money in Indian banks best of all possible authorities." besides." I never heard of an impeached public " Hah I" said I to myself, as we authority in my life, who was not the went up-stairs, "this is not the best of best public authtrity in existence. all possible stories, I doubt!" "iWe are told of these unfortunate We went into a large ward, containmen being laid low by scurvy," said I. ing some twenty or five-and-twenty "Since lime-juice has been regularly beds. We went into several such stored and served out in our navy, wards, one after another. I find it surely that' disease, which used to de- very difficult to indicate what a shockvastate it, lhas almost disappeared. ing sight I saw in them, without frightWas there lime-juice a bo'd this trans- ceing the reader from the perusal of port?" these lines, and defeating my object of My official friend was beginning, " The making it known. TILE UNCOMIMERCIAL TRAVELER. 115 Oh the sunken eyes that turned to me I think I could have recognized in es I walked between the rows of beds, the dismalest skeleton there, the ghost or-worse still-that glazedly looked of a soldier. Something of the old air at the white ceiling, and saw nothing was still latent in the palest shadow of x:ld cared for nothing! Here, lay the life that I talked to. One emaciated skeleton of a man, so lightly covered creature, in the strictest literality worr with a thia unwholesome skin, that not to the bone, lay stretched on his back, a bone in the anatomy was clothed, and looking so like death that I asked one I could clasp the arm above the elbow, of the doctors if lhe were not dying, or in my fingler and thumb. Here, lay a dead? A few kind words from the man with the black scurvy eating his doctor, in his ear, and hie opened his legs away, his gums gone, and his teeth eyes,* and smiled-looked, in a moment, all gaunt and bare. This bed was as if he would have made a salute, if empty, because gangrene had set in, lie could. " WeT shall pull him through, and the patient had died but yesterday. please God,"' said tile Doctor. " Plase That bed was a hopeless one, because God, surr, and thankye," said the paits occupant was sinking fast, and could tient. "You are mucih better to-day; only be roused to tusn the poor pinched are you not?" said the Doctor. "Plase mask of face upon the pillow, with a God, surr;'tis thle slap)e I want, surr; feeble moan. The awful thinness of'tis my breathin' ila!kes the nights so the fallen cheeks, the awful brightness long." " He is a careful fellow this, of the deep-set eyes, the lips of lead, you must know," said the Doctor, cheerthe hands of ivory, the recumbent hu- fully; "it was raining hard when they man images lying in the shadow of put him in the open cart to bring him death with a kind of solemn twilight on here, and he had the presence of mind them, like the sixty who had died to ask to have a sovereign taken out aboard the ship and were lying at the of his pocket that lie had there, and a bottom of the sea, O Pangloss, GoD cab engaged. Probably it saved his forgive you I life." The patient rattled out the In one bed, lay a man whose life had skeleton of a laugh, and said, proud of been saved (as it was hoped) by deep the story,'. Deed, surr, an open cairt incisions in the feet and legs. While I was a comical means o' bringinl' a dyin' was speaking to hirr, a nurse came up man here, and a clever way to kill to change the poultices which this ope- him." You might have sworn to him ration had rendered necessary, and I for a soldier whien lie said it. had an instinctive feelingr that it was One thing had perplexed me very iot well to turn away, merely to spare much in going from bed to bed. A myself. He was sorely wasted and very significant and cruel thing. I keenly susceptible, but the efforts he could find no young man, but one. ite nade to subdue any expression of im- had attracted my iiotice, by having got patience or suffering, were quite heroic. up and dressed himself in his soldier's It was easy to see, in the shrinking of jacket and trowsers, with the intention the figure, and the drawing of the bed- of sitting by the fire; but he had found clothes over the head, how acute the himself too weak, and had crept back endurance was, and it made me shrink to his bed and laid himself down on the too, as if I were in pain; but, when the outside of it. I could have pronounced new bandages were on, and the poor him, alone, to be a young man aged by feet were composed again, lie made an. famine and sickness. As we were standapology for himself (though he had nvt ing by the Irish soldier's bed, I menuttered a w*ord), -and said plaintively, tioned my perplexity to the Doctor. "I am so tender and weak, you see, He took a board with an inscription on sir!" Neither from him nor from any it from the head of the Irishman's bed, one sufferer of the whole ghastly num- and asked me what age I supposed that ber, did I hear a complaiift. Of thank- man to be? I had observed him with fulness for present solicitude and care, attention while talking to hill, and anI heard much; of complaint, not a swered, confidently, "Fifty." The doc. word tor, with a pitying glance at the pa 116 THE UNCO)MMERCIAL TRAVELER. tient, who had dropped into a stupor of the grisliest of the poor skeletor. again, put the board back, and said, and he died soon afterward.) "Twenty-Four." "I was glad to see, in the evidence All the arrangements of the wards of an officer at the Inquest, sergeant were excellent. They could not have that he never saw men behave better been more humane, sympathizing, gen- on board ship than these men." tie, attentive, or wholesome. The "They did behave very well, sir." owners of the ship, too, had done all'I was glad to see, too, that every they could, liberally. There were bright man had a hammock." fires in every room, and the conva- The sergeant gravely shook his head. lescent men were sitting round tlhem, "There must be some mistake, sir. The reading various papers and periodicals. men of my own mess had no hammocks. I took the liberty of inviting my official There were not hammocks enough on friend Pangloss to look at those conva- board, and the men of the two next lescent men, and to tell me whether messes laid hold of hammocks for themtheir faces and bearing were or were selves as soon as they got on board, and not, generally, the faces and bearing of squeezed may men out, as I may say." steady, respectable soldiers? The mas- "Had the squeezed-out men none ter of the workhouse, overhearing me, then?" said that he had had a pretty large ex- "None, sir. As men died, their perience of troops, and that better con- hammocks were used by other men, who ducted men than these, he had never wanted hammocks; but many men had had to do with. They were always (he none at all." added) as we saw them. And of us "Then you don't agree with the visitors (I add) they knew nothing evidence on that point?" whatever, except that we were there. " Certainly not sir. A man can't, It was audacious in me, but I took when he knows to the contrary." another liberty with Pangloss. Prefac- "Did any of the men sell their bed. ingitwith the observation thatof course, ding for Crink?' I knew beforehand that there was not the "There is some mistake on that faintest desire, anywhere, to hush up point too, sir. Men were under the any part of this dreadful business, and impression-I knew it for a fact at the that the Inquest was the fairest of all time —that it was not allowed to take possible Inquests, I besought four things blankets or bedding on board, and so of Pangloss. Firstly, to observe that men who had things of that sort came the Inquest was not held in that place, to sell them purposely." but at some distance off. Secondly, to " Did any of the men sell their clothes look round upon those helpless spectres for drink?" in their beds. Thirdly, to remember "They did, sir." (I believe there that the witnesses produced from among never was a more truthful witness than them before that Inquest, could not have the sergeant. He had no inclination to been selected because thev were the make out a case.) men who had the most to tell it, " Many?" but because they happened to be in a "Some, sir" (considering the quesstate admitting of their safe removal. tion). "Soldier-like. There had been Fourthly, to say whether the Coroner long marching in the rainy season, by and Jury could have come there, to bad roads-no roads at all, in shortthose pillows, and taken a little evi- and when they got to Cal;utta, men dence? My official friend declined to turned to and drank, before taking a commit himself to a reply. last look at it. Soldier-like." There was a sergeant, reading, in "Do you see any men in this ward. one of the fireside groups; as he was a for example, who sold clothes for drink man of a very intelligent countenance, at that time?" and as I have a great respect for non- The sergeant's wan eye, happily just commissioned officers as a class, I sat beginning to rekindle with health, down on the nearest bed, to have some traveled round the place and came talk V'h him. (It was the bed of one back to me. "Certainly, sir." THE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. 117 "The marching to Calcutta in the I Englishman I burn and blusl to rememrainy season must have been severe?" her it. It would have been simply " It was very severe, sir." unbearable at the time, but for the con"Yet, what with the rest and the sea sideration and pity with which they air, I should have thought that the men were soothed in their sufferings. (even the men who got drunk) would No punishment that our inefficient have soon begun to recover on board laws provide, is worthy of the name ship?" when set against the guilt of thils trans"So they might; but the bad food action. But, if the memory of it die told upon them, and when we got into out unavengred, and if it do not result a cold latitude, it began to tell more, in the inexorable dismissal and disgrace and the men dropped." of those who are responsible for it, " The sick had a general disinclina- their escape will be illfamous to the tion for food, I am told, Sergeant?" Government (no matter of what party) " Have you seen the food, sir?" that so neglects its duty, and infamous "Some of it." to the nation that tamely suffers such "Have you seen the state of their intolerable wrong to be done. ki its mouths, sir I' name. If the sergeant, who was a man of a few orderly words, had spoken the IF the confession that I have often amount of a volume of this publication, traveled from this Covent Garden he could not have settled that question lodging of niine on Sundays, should better. I believe that the sick could give offense to those who never travel as soon have eaten the ship, as the on Sundays, they will be satisfied (I ship's provisions. hope) by my adding that the journeys I took the additional liberty with my in question were made to churches. friend Pangloss, when I had left the Not that I have any curiosity to hear sergeant with good wishes, of asking powerful preachers. Time was, when I Pangloss whether lie had ever heard of was dragged by the hair of my head, biscuit getting drunk and bartering its as one may say, to hear too many. On nutritious qualities for putrefaction and summer evenings, when every flower, vermin: of peas becoming hardened in and tree, and bird, might have better liquor; of hammocks drinking them- addressed my soft young heart, I have selves off the face of the earth; of lime- in my day been caught in the palm of a juice, vegetables, vinegar, cooking female hand by the crown, have been accommodation, water supply, and beer, violently scrubbed from the neck to the all taking to drinking together and roots of the hair as a purification for going to ruin? If not (I asked him), the Temple, and have then been carried what did he say in defense of the officers off highly charged with saponaceous condemned by the Coroner's Jury, who, electricity, to be steamed like a potato by signing the General Inspection re- in the unventilated breath of the powerport relative to the ship Great Tasma- ful Boanerges Boiler and his congrenia cha.rtered for these troops, had gation, until what small mind I had deliberately asserted all that bad and was quite steamed out of me. In poisonous dunghill refuse, to be good which pitiable plight I lhave been and wholesome food? My official hauled out of the place of meeting, at friend replied that it was a remarkable the conclusion of the exercises, and fact, that whereas some officers were catechised respecting Boanerges Boiler, only positively good, and other officers his fifthly, his sixtlily, and his seventhly, only comparatively better, those par- until I have R'egarcled that reverend ticular officers were superlatively the person in the light of a most dismal and very best of all possible officers. oppressive Charade. Time was, when I was carried off to platform assemMy hand and my heart fail me, in blages at which no human child, writing my record of this journey. The whether of wrath or grace, could posspectacle of the soldiers in the hospital- sibly keep its eyes open, and when I beds of that Liverpool workhouse, was felt the fatal sleep stealing, stealing so shocking and so shameful, that as an over me, and when I gradually heard 8 118 THE UNCO0MIMIERCIAL TRAVELER. the orator in possession, spinning and answer to any antiquarian question on humming like a great top, until he the subject that I ever put to books, rolled, collapsed; and tumbled over, shall harass the reader's soul. A full and I discovered to my burning shame half of my pleasure in them, arose out and fear, that as to that last stage, it of their mystery; mysterious I found was not he, but I. I have sat under them; mysterious they shall remain for Boanerges when lie has specifically me. addressed himself to us —us, the infants Where shall I begin my round of -and at this present writilg I hear his hidden and forgotten old churches in lumbering jocularity (which never the City of London? amused us, though we basely pretended It is twenty minutes short of eleven that it did), and I behold his big round on: Sunday morning, when I stroll face, and I look up the inside of his down one of the many narrow hilly outstretched coat-sleeve as if it were a streets in the City that tend due south telescope with the stopper on, and I to the Thames. It is my first experihate him with an unwholesome hatred ment, and I have come to the region of for two hours. Through such means Whittington in an omnibus, and we did it come to pass that I knew the have put down a fierce-eyed spare old powerful preacher from beginning to woman, whose slate-colored gown end, all over and all through, while I smells of herbs, anid who walked up was very young, and that I left him be- Aldersgate-street to some chapel where hind at an early period of life. Peace she comforts herself with brimstone be with him! More peace than he doctrine, I warrant. We have also brought to me! put down a stouter and sweeter old Now, I have heard many preachers lady, with a pretty large prayer-book since that time —not powerful; merely in an unfolded pocket-handkerchief, Christian, unaffected, and reverenltial- who got out at the corner of a court and I have had many such preachers near Stationers' Hall, and who I tl1onk on my roll of friends. But, it was not must go to church there, because sne to hear these, any more than the power- is the widow of some deceased Oldt ful class, that I made my Sunday jour- Company's Beadle. The rest of our neys. They were journeys of curiosity freight were mere chance pleasure-seekto the numerous churches in the City ers and rural walkers, and went on to of London. It came into my head one the Blackwall railway. So many bells day, here had I been cultivating a are ringing, when I stand undecided at familiarity with all the churches of a street corner, that every sheep in the Rome, and I knew nothing of the in- ecclesiastical fold might be a bell. sides of the old churches of London? wether. The discordance is fearful This befell on a Sunday morning. I My state of indecision is referable to, began my expeditions that very same and about equally divisible among, day, and they lasted me a year. four great churches, which are all with. I never wanted to know the names in sight and sound, all within the space of the churches to which I went, and of a few square yards. As I stand at to this hour I am profoundly ignorant the street corner, I don't see as many in that particular of at least nine-tenths as four people at once going to church, of them. Indeed, saving that I know though I see as many as four churches the church of old GOWER'S tomb (he with their steeples clamoring for pcolies in effigy with his head upon his ple. I choose my church, and go up books) to be the church of Saint the flight of steps to the great entrance Saviour's, Southwark, and the church in the tower. A mouldy tower within, of MILTON'S tomb to be the church and like a neglected washhouse. A of Cripplegate, and the church on rope comes through the beamed roof, Cornhill with the great goldemi keys and a mall in a corner pulls it and to be the church of Saint Peter, I doubt clashes the bell; a whity-brown man, if I could pass a competitive exami- whose clothes were once black; a man nation in any of the names. No ques- with flue on him, and cobweb. He tion did I ever ask of living creature stares at me, wondering how I come concerning these churches, and no there, and I stare at him, wondering TI-IE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER. 119 bow he comes there. Through a screen still am, taking a strong kind of'inof wood and glass, I peep into the dim visible snuff, up my nose, into my eyes, church. About twenty people are dis- and down my throat. I wink, sneeze, cernible, waiting to begin. Christening and cough. The clerk sneezes; the would seem to have faded out of this clergyman winks; the unseen organist church long ago, forlthe font has the sneezes and coughs, (and probably dust of desuetude thick upon it, and winks); all our little party wink, sneeze, its wooden cover (shaped like an old- and cough. The snuff seems to be made fashioned tureen cover) looks as if it of the decay of matting, wood, cloth, w'ouldn't come off upon requirement. sto!ne, iron, earth, and something( else. I perceive the altar to be rickety, and Is the something else, the decay of dead the Commandments damp. Entering citizens in the vaults below? As sure after this survey, I jostle the clergyman, as Death it is! Not only in the cold who is entering too from a dark lane damp February day, do we cough and behind a pew of state with curtains, sneeze dead citizens all through the wheree nobody sits. The pew is orna' service, but dead citizens have got into mented with four blue wands, once the very bellows of the organ, and half carried by four somebodys, I suppose, choked the same. We stamp our*feet, before somebody else, but which there to warm them, and dead citizens arise is nobody now to hold or receive honor in heavy clouds. Dead citizens stick from. I open the door.of a family upon the walls, and lie pulverized on the pew, and shut myself inll; if I could sounding-board over the clergyman's occupy twenty family pews at once, I head, and, when a gust of air comes, migllht have them. The clerk, a brisk tumble down upon him. young man, (how does he come here?) In this first experience I was so glances at ine knowingly, as who should nauseated by too much snuff, made say,' "You have done it now; you must of the Dowgate family, the Comport stop." Organ plays. Organ-loft is in branch, and other families and branches, a small gallery across the church; gal- that I gave but little heed to our dull lery congregation, two girls. I wonder manner of ambling through the service; within myself what will happen when to the brisk clerk's manner of encourwe are required to sing. aging us to try a note' or two at psalm There is a pale hea.p of books in the tile; to the gallery-congreration's corner of my pew, and while the organ, manner of enjoyiing a shrill due%, withwhich is hoarse and sleepy, plays in out a notion of time or tune; to the such fashion that I can hear niore of whity-brown man's manner of shutting the rusty working of the stops than of the minister into the pulpit, and being any music, I look at the books, which very particular with the lock of the door, are mostly bound in faded baize and as if he were a dangerous animal. But, stuff. They belonged, in 1754, to the I tried again next Sunday, and soon Dowgate family; and who were they? accustomed myself to the dead citizens Jane Comport must have married when I found that I could not possibly Youngl Dowgate, and come into the get on without them among the City family that way; You1iig Dowgate was churches. courtinlg Jane Comport when he gave Another Sunday. After beingagain her her prayer-lbook, and recorded the rung for by conflicting bells, like a leg presentation in the fly-leaf; if Jane of mutton or a laced hat a hundred were fond of Young Dowgate, why dlid years ago, I make selection of a church she die -and leave the boolk here? Per- oddly put away in a corner aolng a haps at the rickety altar, and before the number of lanes-a smaller church tltan lamp Commandllents, slle, Comport, the last, and an ugly: of about the had taken him, Dowgate, in a flush of date of Queen Anne. As a congregayouthful hope and joy, and perhal)s it tion we are fourteen strong: not countt had not turned out in the lonl