“I could be pleased with any one,Who entertained my sight with such gay showsAs men and women, moving here and there,That coursing one another in their steps,Have made their feet a tune.”—Dryden.“And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake.”“Come now, what... shall we have,To wear away this long age of three hours,Between our after-supper and bed-time?”—Midsummer Night's Dream.
“By Jove! this is hot work!” exclaimed Lawless, flinging himself down on a sofa so violently as to make an old lady, who occupied the farther end of it, jump to an extent which seriously disarranged an Anglo-Asiaticnondescript, believed in by her as a turban, wherewith she adorned her aged head. “If I have not been going the pace like a brick for the last two hours, it's a pity; what a girl that Di Clapperton is to step out!—splendid action she has, to be sure, and giving tongue all the time too. She's in first-rate training, 'pon my word: I thought she'd have sewn me up at one time—the pace was terrific. I must walk into old Coleman's champagne before I make a fresh start; when I've recovered my wind, and got a mouthful of hay and water, I'll have at her again, and dance till all's blue before I give in.”
“My dear fellow,” said I, “you must not dance all the evening with the same young lady; you'll have her brother call upon you the first thing to-morrow morning to know your intentions.”
“He shall very soon learn them as far as he is concerned, then,” replied Lawless, doubling his fist. “Let me have him to myself for a quiet twenty minutes, and I'll send him home with such a face on him that his nearest relations will be puzzled to recognise him for the next month to come at least. But what do you really mean?”
“That it's not etiquette to go on dancing with one young lady the whole evening; you must ask some one else.”
“Have all the bother to go over again, eh? what a treat! Well, we live and learn; it will require a few extra glasses of champagne to get the steam up to the necessary height, that's all. And there they are going down to supper; that's glorious!” and away he bounded to secure Miss Clapperton's arm, while I offered mine to the turbaned old lady, to compensate for her late alarm.
After supper the dancing was resumed with fresh energy, the champagne having produced its usual exhilarating effects upon the exhausted frames of the dancers. Notwithstanding my former repulse, I made a successful attempt to gain Miss Saville's hand for a quadrille, though I saw, or fancied I saw, the scowl on Mr. Vernor's sour countenance grow deeper as I led her away. My perseverance was not rewarded by any very interesting results, for my partner, who was either distressingly shy, or acting under constraint of some kind, made monosyllabic replies to every remark I addressed to her, and appeared relieved when the termination of the set enabled her to rejoin her grim protector.
“Of all the disagreeable faces I ever saw, Mr. Vernor's is the most repulsive,” said I to Coleman; “were I a believer in the power of the 'evil eye,' he is just the sortof looking person I should imagine would possess it. I am certain I have never met him before, and yet, strange to say, there is something which appears familiar to me in his expression, particularly when he frowns.”
“He is a savage-looking old Guy,” replied Freddy, “and bullies that sweet girl shockingly, I can see. I should feel the greatest satisfaction in punching his head for him, but I suppose it would be hardly the correct thing on so short an acquaintance, and in my father's house too; eh?”
“Not exactly,” replied I, turning away with a smile.
When Lawless made his appearance after supper it was evident by his flushed face, and a slight unsteadiness in his manner of walking, that he had carried his intentions with regard to the champagne into effect; and, heedless of my warning, he proceeded to lay violent siege to Miss Clapperton, to induce her to waltz with him. I was watching them with some little amusement, for the struggle in the young lady's mind between her sense of the proper, and her desire to waltz with an Honourable, was very apparent, when I was requested by Mrs. Coleman to go in search of a cloak appertaining to the turbaned old lady whom I had escorted down to supper, and who, being delicate in some way or other, required especial care in packing up. Owing to a trifling mistake of Mrs. Coleman's (who had described a red, worsted shawl as a blue cloth cloak, which mistake I had to discover and rectify) my mission detained me some minutes. As I re-entered the ball-room, shawl in hand, I was startled by the crash of something heavy falling, followed by a shriek from several of the ladies at the upper end of the room; and on hastening to the scene of action I soon perceived the cause of their alarm.
Page124 Fall of the Cadelabrum
During my absence Lawless, having succeeded in overcoming Miss Clapperton's scruples, had recommenced waltzing with the greatest energy; but unfortunately, after going round the room once or twice, “the pace,” as he called it, becoming faster at every turn, the combined effects of the champagne and the unaccustomed exercise rendered him exceedingly giddy, and just before I entered the room he had fallen against a small table supporting a handsome China candelabrum, containing several wax lights, the overthrow of which had occasioned the grand crash which I heard. The cause of the shriek, however, still remained to be discovered, and a nearer approach instantly rendered it apparent. One of the wax candles, which had not been extinguished in its fall, had rolled against the ball-dress of Miss Saville, who happened tobe seated next the table, and set it on fire. After making an ineffectual attempt to put it out with her hands, she became alarmed, and as I approached started wildly up, with the evident intention of rushing out of the room. Without a moment's hesitation I sprang forward, caught her in my arms, and, flinging the worsted shawl over her dress, which was just beginning to blaze, enveloped her in it, and, telling her if she only remained quiet she would be perfectly safe, laid her on the floor, while I continued to hold the thick shawl tightly down, till, to my very great delight, I succeeded in extinguishing the flames.
By this time several gentlemen had gathered round us, eager with their advice and offers of assistance. Having satisfied myself that the danger was entirely over I raised Miss Saville from the ground, and, making way through the crowd, half led, half carried her to the nearest sofa. After placing her carefully upon it I left her to the care of Mrs. Coleman and Lucy Markham, while I sought out the turbaned old lady whose shawl I had so unceremoniously made use of, and succeeded in making my peace with her, though, I believe, in her own secret breast, she considered Miss Saville's safety dearly purchased at the expense of her favourite whittle. As I approached the sofa again, the following words, in the harsh tones of Mr. Vernor's voice, met my ear:—
“I have ascertained our carriage is here; as soon, therefore, as you feel strong enough to walk, Clara, my dear, I should advise your accompanying me home; quiet and rest are the best remedies after such an alarm as this”.
“I am quite ready, sir,” was the reply, in a faint tone of voice.
“Nay, wait a few minutes longer,” said Lucy Markham kindly; “you are trembling from head to foot even yet.”
“Indeed I am quite strong; I have no doubt I can walk now,” replied Miss Saville, attempting to rise, but sinking back again almost immediately from faintness.
“Can I be of any assistance?” inquired I, coming forward.
“I am obliged to you for the trouble you have already taken, sir,” answered Mr. Vernor coldly, “but will not add to it. Miss Saville will be able to proceed with the assistance of my arm in a few minutes.”
After a short pause the young lady again announced her readiness to depart; and, having shaken hands with Mrs. Coleman and Lucy Markham, turned to leave theroom, leaning on Mr. Vernor's arm. As I was standing near the door I stepped forward to hold it open for them, Mr. Vernor acknowledging my civility by the slightest imaginable motion of the head. Miss Saville, as she approached me, paused for a moment, as if about to speak, but, apparently relinquishing her intention, merely bowed, and passed on.
“Well, if it's in that sort of way fashionable individuals demonstrate their gratitude for having their lives saved, I must say I don't admire it,” exclaimed Coleman, who had witnessed the cool behaviour of Mr. Vernor and his ward; “it may be very genteel, but, were I in your place, I should consider it unsatisfactory in the extreme, and allow the next inflammable young lady who might happen to attract a spark in my presence to consume as she pleased, without interfering; and peace be to her ashes!”
“It was most fortunate that I happened to have that thick shawl in my hand,” said I; “in another minute her whole dress would have been in a blaze, and it would have been next to impossible to save her. What courage and self-command she showed! she never attempted to move after I threw the shawl around her, till I told her all danger was over.”
“Very grand, all that sort of thing,” returned Freddy; “but for my own part I should like to see a little more feeling. I've no taste for your 'marble maidens'; they always put me in mind of Lot's wife.”
“Eh! Mrs. Lot?” interrupted Lawless, coming up to us: “why was she like me? do you give it up? Because she got into a pretty pickle—there's a riddle for you. I say, I made a nice mess of it just now, didn't I? that's what comes of going to these confounded balls. The fact was,” he continued, sinking his voice, “the filly bolted with me; she took uncommon kindly to the champagne at supper; in consequence, she was so fresh when we started that I couldn't hold her; she kept pushing on faster and faster, till at last she was fairly off with me; we did very well as long as we stuck to the open country, but at last we contrived to get among some very awkward fences; the first stiff bit of timber we came to she made a rush at, and down we came, gate—I mean table, candlestick, and all, a regular smash; and to make matters worse, one of the candles set the other young woman's petticoat alight.”
“In fact, after a very severe run, you were nearly being in at the death,” suggested Coleman.
"By Jove, it was nothing to laugh at, though!” remarked Lawless; “she'd have been regularly cooked, if Prank Fairlegh hadn't put her out when he did, and I should have been tried for 'Unjustifiable Girl-icide,' or 'Maliciously setting fire to a marriageable female,' or some such thing; and I daresay the young woman wasn't insured anywhere: I should have got into a pretty mess; it would have been a worse job than breaking Shrimp.”
“Frederick, look here!” cried Lucy Markham, who was passing the place where we stood; “see how Mr. Fairlegh's sleeve is scorched; surely,” she continued, turning to me, “your arm must be injured.”
“It begins to feel rather painful,” replied I; “but I daresay it's nothing to signify.”
“Come to my room,” exclaimed Freddy anxiously; “why did you not mention it before?”
“Really I scarcely felt it in the excitement of the moment,” returned I; “it can't be of any consequence.”
On removing the coat-sleeve, however, a somewhat considerable burn was apparent, extending about half way from the wrist to the elbow, and which, the moment it was exposed to the air, became excessively painful.
Fortunately, among the guests who had not yet taken their departure was the surgeon of the neighbourhood, who was speedily summoned, and who, after having applied the proper remedies, recommended me to carry my arm in a sling for a few days, at the end of which time, he assured me, it would cause me little inconvenience.
As it was, by great good luck, my left arm which was injured, I submitted to this mandate with tolerable resignation, and returned to the drawing-room to be pitied by the tongues of the old, and the bright eyes of the young ladies, to an extent which (as at that time of day I was somewhat addicted to the vice of shyness) was more flattering than agreeable.
It was between two and three o'clock when Lawless and I prepared to take our departure for the inn at which we were to sleep. Being a lovely night Coleman volunteered to accompany us for the sake of the walk, telling the servants not to sit up for him, as he had a latch-key in his pocket—an article, regarding the possession of which a constant civil war was carried on between his mother and himself, wherein by dint of sundry well-contrived stratagems, and deeply laid schemes, he invariably gained the victory.
“I tell you what,” said Lawless, “the row and bother,and the whole kick-up altogether, has made me alarmingly hungry; the only decent bit of chicken I managed to lay hands on at supper Di Clapperton ate: precious twist that girl has, to be sure; even after all the ground she's been over to-night, going a topping pace the whole time too, she wasn't a bit off her feed; didn't she walk into the ham sandwiches—that's all! I'd rather keep her for a week than a fortnight, I can tell you; she'd eat her head off in a month, and no mistake. Here, waiter,” he continued, “have you got anything to eat in the house?”
“Yes, sir, splendid barrel of oysters down by coach last night; capital brown stout, sir—real Guinness's!”
“That's it, my man,” was the rejoinder; “trot 'em out, by all means. Freddy, old boy,” he continued, “come along in with us, and have some.”
“Well, I don't mind astonishing the natives for once in a way,” replied Freddy; “but it's dreadfully debauched, eating oysters and drinking porter at this time of day or night, whichever you are pleased to call it; you'll ruin my morals.”
“The devil fly away with your morals, and he won't be overloaded either,” was the polite rejoinder; and in we all went together. The oysters and porter soon made their appearance, and had ample justice done them; then, as a matter of course, spirits and water and cigars were produced, “just to prevent the oysters from disagreeing with us”; and we sat talking over old times, and relating various adventures which had occurred to us since, without troubling our heads about the flight of minutes. At length Coleman, pulling out his watch, exclaimed: “Past four o'clock, by the powers! I must be getting to bed—I've got a lease to draw to-morrow, and my head won't be over-clear as it is.”
“Nonsense,” replied Lawless; “bed's all a popular delusion; we can't be better off than we are—sit still.” But on Coleman's persisting in his wish to depart, Lawless continued: “Well, take another glass, and then Frank and I will walk home with you, and see you safe, for it's my belief that you're getting 'screwed.,' or you'd never think of going to bed”. Freddy and I exchanged glances, for if any of our party were in the condition expressed by the mysterious word “screwed,” it certainly was Lawless himself. After sitting some little time longer, we once more sallied forth, with the avowed intention of seeing Coleman home.
“If the bell have any sides the clapper will find 'em.”——Ben Jonson.“——ringing changes all our bells hath marr'd,Jangled they have and jarr'dSo long, they're out of tune, and out of frame;They seem not now the same.Put them in frame anew, and once beginTo tune them so, that they may chime all in.”—Herbert.“Great then are the mysteries of bell-ringing: and this maybe said in its praise, that of all devices which men have soughtout for obtaining distinction by making a noise in the world, itis the most harmless.”—The Doctor.
AS we proceeded through the town Lawless, despite our endeavours to restrain him, chose to vent his superabundant spirits by performing sundry feats at the expense of the public, which, had the police regulations of the place been properly attended to, would have assuredly gained us a sojourn in the watch-house. We had just prevailed upon him to move on, after singing “We won't go home till morning” under the windows of “the Misses Properprim's Seminary for Young Ladies,” when a little shrivelled old man, in a sort of watchman's white greatcoat, bearing a horn lantern in his hand, brushed past us, and preceded us down the street at a shuffling trot.
“Holloa!” cried Lawless, “who's that old picture of ugliness? Look what a pace the beggar's cutting along at! what on earth's he up to?”
“That's the sexton and bell-ringer,” returned Coleman; “they keep up the old custom at Hillingford of ringing the curfew at daybreak, and he's going about it now, I suppose.”
“What jolly fun!” said Lawless; “come on, and let's see how the old cock does it; “and, suiting the action to the word, off he started in pursuit.
“We'd better follow him,” said I; “he'll be getting into some mischief or other, depend upon it.”
After running a short distance down the street, on turning a corner we found Lawless standing under a small arched door-way leading into a curious old battlemented tower, which did not form part of any church or other building of the same date as itself, but stood alone,showing, as it reared its time-worn head high above the more modern dwellings of which the street was composed, like some giant relic of the days of old. This tower contained a peal of bells, the fame of which was great in that part of the country, and of which the townspeople were justly proud.
“All right!” cried Lawless; “the old scarecrow ran in here like a lamp-lighter, as soon he saw me bowling after him, and has left the key in the lock; so I shall take the liberty of exploring a little; I've a strong though undeveloped taste for architectural antiquities. Twopence more, and up goes the donkey! come along!”
So saying, he flung open the door, and disappeared up some steps leading to the interior of the tower, and, after a moment's hesitation, Coleman and I followed him.
“Don't be alarmed, old boy!” observed Lawless, patting the sexton (who looked frightened out of his wits at our intrusion) so forcibly on the back as to set him coughing violently; “we're not come to murder you for the sake of your lantern.”
“This gentleman,” said Coleman, who by the cunning twinkle of his eye was evidently becoming possessed by the spirit of mischief, “has been sent down by the Venerable Society of Antiquaries to ascertain whether the old custom of ringing the Curfew is properly performed here. He is, in fact, no other than the Noble President of the Society himself. That gentleman (pointing to me) is the Vice-President, and I, who have the honour of addressing you, am the unworthy Secretary.”
“That's it, Daddy,” resumed Lawless, coolly taking up the lantern, and lighting a cigar; “that's the precise state of the poll, I mean case; so now go to work, and mind you do the trick properly.”
Thus adjured, the old man, who appeared completely bewildered by all that was going on, mechanically took hold of a rope, and began slowly and at stated intervals tolling one of the bells.
“Where are your assistants, my good man?” inquired Coleman after a short pause.—The only answer was a stare of vacant surprise, and Coleman continued, “Why, you don't mean to say you only ring one bell, to be sure? oh, this is all wrong:—what do you say, Mr. President?”
“Wrong?” replied Lawless, removing the cigar from his mouth and puffing a cloud of smoke into the sexton's face, “I should just think itwas, most particularly and confoundedly wrong. I'll tell you what it is, old death's-head and cross-bones; things can't be allowed to go onin this manner. Reform, sir, is wanting, 'the bill, the whole bill, and nothing but the bill'. I mean to get into Parliament some day, Fairlegh, when I am tired of knocking about, you know—but that wasn't exactly what I was going to say.”
“Suppose we show him the proper way to do it, Mr. President!” suggested Freddy, catching hold of the rope of one of the bells.
“Off she goes,” cried Lawless, seizing another.
“Gentlemen, good gentlemen, don't ring the bells, pray,” implored the old man, “you'll raise the whole town; they are never rung in that way without there's a fire, or a flood, or the riot act read, or something of that dreadful natur the matter.”
But his expostulations were vain. Lawless had already begun ringing his bell in a manner which threatened to stun us all; and Coleman saying to me, “Come, Frank, we're regularly in for it, so you may as well take a rope and do the thing handsomely while weareabout it; it would be horridly shabby of you to desert us now,” I hastened to follow his example.
Now it must be known that when I arrived at the inn, before supper, owing probably to a combination of the fatigue of the day, the excitement of the evening and the pain of my arm, I felt somewhat faint and exhausted, and should have greatly preferred going at once quietly to bed; but, as I was aware that by so doing I should break up the party I resolved to keep up as well as I could, and say nothing about it. Finding myself refreshed by the bottled porter, I repeated the dose several times, and the remedy continuing to prove efficacious, without giving the thing a thought, I drank more deeply than was my wont, and was a good deal surprised, when I rose to accompany the others, to discover that my legs were slightly unsteady, and my head not so clear as usual. Still I had been far from approving the proceedings of my companions, and had any one told me, when I entered the tower, that I was going to ring all the good people of Hillingford out of their beds in a fright, I should indignantly have repelled the accusation. Now, however, owing to the way in which Coleman had requested my assistance, it appeared to my bewildered senses that I should be meanly deserting my friends the moment they had got into difficulties, if I were to refuse; but when he used the word “shabby,” it settled the business, and, seizing a rope with my uninjured hand, I began pulling away vigorously.
"Now, then, you wretched old beggar,” shouted Lawless, “don't stand there winking and blinking like an owl; pull away like bricks, or I'll break your neck for you; go to work, I say!” and the miserable sexton, with a mute gesture of despair, resuming his occupation, a peal of four bells was soon ringing bravely out over hill and dale, and making “night horrible” to the startled inhabitants of Hillingford.
After the lapse of a few minutes a distant shout was heard; then a confused noise of people running and calling to each other in the streets reached our ears; and lastly the sound of several persons rapidly approaching the bell-tower became audible.
“We're in for a scrimmage now, I expect,” said Lawless, leisurely turning up his sleeves.
“Not a bit of it,” replied Freddy; “only leave it to me, and you'll see. All you fellows have got to do is to hold your tongues, and keep on ringing away till your arms ache; trust me to manage the thing all right. Lawless, keep your eye on ancient Methuselah there, and if he offers to say a word just knock him head over heels by accident, will you?”
“Aye, aye, sir,” replied Lawless, shaking his fists significantly at the sexton.
At this moment a short fat man with a very red face (who we afterwards learned was no less a person than the mayor of Hillingford in his public, and a mighty tallow-chandler in his private, capacity) appeared, attired in a night-cap and greatcoat, and bearing the rest of his wardrobe under his arm, followed by several of the townspeople, all in a singular state of undress, and with the liveliest alarm depicted on their countenances. The worthy mayor was so much out of breath by his unwonted exertions that some seconds elapsed before he could utter a word, and in the meantime we continued ringing as though our lives depended upon it. At length he contrived to gasp out a hurried inquiry (hardly audible amidst the clanging of the bells) as to what was the matter. To this Coleman replied by pointing with one hand to a kind of loop-hole, of which there were several for the purpose of supplying light and air to the interior of the tower, while with the other hand he continued ringing away more lustily than before.
“Bless my soul!” exclaimed the mayor, raising himself on tiptoe, and stretching his short neck in a vain endeavour to peep through the loop-hole, “it must be a fire in West Street!”
Two or three of the by-standers immediately rushed into the street, calling out, “A fire in West Street! send for the engines”.
At this moment Freddy caught the eye of a tall, gaunt-looking man in a top-boot and plush breeches, but without coat or waistcoat, and wearing a gold-laced cocked hat on his head, hind part before, from beneath which peeped out a white cotton night-cap. Having succeeded in attracting the attention of this worthy, who in his proper person supported the dignity of parish beadle, Coleman repeated the same stratagem he had so successfully practised upon the mayor, save that in this instance he pointed to a loop-hole in a completely opposite direction to the one he had indicated previously. The beadle immediately ran out, muttering ere he did so, “I was certain sure as they was all wrong”.—In another minute we heard him shouting, “It's in Middle Street, I tell you, there's a fire in Middle Street!”
Page133 Freddy Mystifies the Beadle
Coleman now turned to the mayor, who, having somewhat recovered his breath, was evidently preparing to question the sexton as to the particulars of the affair, and exclaimed in a tone of deep feeling, “I am surprised to see a person of your high station standing idle at a moment like this! take a rope, sir, and lend a hand to assist us, if you be a man”.
“To be sure, to be sure,” was the reply, “anything for the good of the town,” and, grasping an unoccupied rope, he began pulling away with all his might.
The hubbub and confusion now became something unparalleled—people without number kept running in and out of the tower, giving and receiving all kinds of contradictory orders; volunteers had been found to assist us, and the whole peal of eight bells was clashing and clanging away above the tumult, and spreading the alarm farther and wider; men on horseback were arriving from the country eager to render assistance; women were screaming, dogs barking, children crying; and, to crown the whole, a violent and angry debate was being carried on by the more influential members of the crowd as to the quarter in which the supposed conflagration was raging—one party loudly declaring it was in Middle Street, while the other as vehemently protested it was in West Street.
The confusion had apparently attained its highest pitch, and the noise was perfectly deafening, when suddenly a shout was raised, “The engines! clear the way for the engines!” and in another moment the scampering of thecrowd in all directions, the sound of horses' feet galloping, and the rattle of wheels, announced their approach. While all this was going on Coleman had contrived silently and unperceived to substitute two of the by-standers in my place and his own, so that Lawless was the only one of our party actually engaged in ringing. Seizing the moment, therefore, when the shout of “The engines!” had attracted the attention of the loiterers, he touched him on the shoulder, saying, “Now's our time, come along,” and, joining a party who were going out, we reached the door of the bell-tower unobserved.
The scene which presented itself to our view as we gained the open street would require the pencil of a Wilkie, or the pen of a Dickens, to describe. The street widened in front of the bell-tower, so as to make a kind of square. In the centre of the space thus formed stood the fire-engine drawn by four post-horses, the post-boys sitting erect in their saddles, ready to dash forward the moment the firemen (who in their green coats faced with red, and shining leather helmets, imparted a somewhat military character to the scene) should succeed in ascertaining the place at which their assistance was required. The crowd, which had opened to admit the passage of the engine, immediately closed round it again in an apparently impenetrable phalanx, the individual members of which afforded as singular a variety of costume as can well be imagined, extending from the simple shirt of propriety to the decorated uniforms of the fire-brigade. As every one who had an opinion to give was bawling it out at the very top of his voice, whilst those who had none contented themselves by shouting vague sentences devoid of particular meaning of any kind, the noise and tumult were such as beggared description. There was one short, stout, red-faced little fellow (for I succeeded in catching sight of him at last) with a mouth of such fearful dimensions that when it was open the upper half of his head appeared a mere lid, whose intellects being still partially under the dominion of sleep, evidently imagined himself at the Election, which had taken place a short time previously, and continued strenuously vociferating the name of his favourite candidate, though the cry of “Judkins for ever!” did not tend greatly to elucidate matters. Suddenly, and at the very height of the confusion, the bells ceased ringing, and for a moment, as if influenced by some supernatural power, the crowd to a man became silent.
The transition from the Babel of sounds I have beendescribing to such perfect tranquillity was most striking, and impressed one with an involuntary feeling of awe. I was aroused by Coleman, who whispered in an undertone, “The sexton has peached, depend upon it, and the sooner we're off the better”.
“Yes, and I'll go in style too; so good-bye, and take care of yourselves,” exclaimed Lawless, and, springing forward, before any one was aware of his intention, he forced his way through the crowd, overturning sundry members thereof in his progress, until he reached the fire-engine, upon which he seated himself with a bound, shouting as he did so: “Forward, forward! do you want the place to be burnt to the ground? I'll show you the way; give 'em the spur; faster, faster, straight on till I tell you to turn—faster, I say!”
Page135 Eloping With the Fire-engine
The appearance of authority, coupled with energy and decision, will usually control a crowd. The firemen, completely taken in by Lawless's manner, reiterated his orders; the post-boys applied both whip and spur vigorously—the horses dashed forward, and, amidst the enthusiastic cheering of the mob, the engine disappeared like a flash of lightning.
“Well, I give the Honourable George credit for that,” exclaimed Coleman, as soon as we had a little recovered from our surprise at Lawless's elopement with the fire-engine; “it was a good idea, and he worked it out most artistically; the air with which he waved his hat to cheer them forward was quite melodramatic. I've seen the thing not half so well done by several of the greatest generals who ever lived—gallant commanders, whom their men would have followed through any amount of the reddest possible fire during the whole of Astley's campaigns, that is, if the commissariat department (consisting of the pot-boy stationed at the side-scenes with the porter) did its duty efficiently.”
“Freddy, they're beginning to come out from the bell-tower,” interrupted I; “we shall be called upon to answer for our misdeeds if we stay much longer; see, that long man in the cocked hat is coming towards us.”
“So he is,” returned Coleman; “it strikes me they've found us out; follow me, and try and look as if it wasn't you as much as possible, will you?” So saying, he began to make his way out of the crowd unperceived, an example I hastened to follow; but we were not destined to effect our purpose quite so easily. The point Coleman wished to gain was an arched gateway leading into a stable-yard, from which he hoped, by a foot-path with which he was acquainted, across some fields, to reachwithout molestation the inn where I was to sleep. But, in order to effect this, we were obliged to pass the door of the bell-tower, from which several people, who appeared angry and excited, were now issuing. The foremost of those, the cock-hatted official before mentioned, made his way up to us, exclaiming as he did so:—
“Here, you young gen'lmen, just you stop a bit, will yer? His Wusshup, the mayor, seems to begin to think as somebody's been a making a fool of him.”
“A very natural idea,” returned Coleman; “I only wonder it never occurred to him before; as far as my limited acquaintance with him will allow me to judge, the endeavour appears to have been perfectly successful. I wish you a very good-morning.”
“That's all wery fine, but I must trouble yer to come along o' me; his Wusshup wants to speak to yer,” replied the beadle, seizing Coleman by the coat-collar.
“That is a pleasure his 'Wusshup' must contrive to postpone till he has caught me,” answered Freddy, as with a sudden jerk he succeeded in freeing himself from his captor's grasp, while, almost at the same moment, he dealt him a cuff on the side of the head which sent him reeling back to the door of the bell-tower, where encountering the mayor, who had just made his appearance, he came headlong to the ground, dragging that illustrious functionary down with him in a frantic endeavour to save himself. Profiting by the confusion that ensued Freddy and I sprang forward, darted through the archway, and, making the best use of our legs, soon found ourselves in the open fields, and quite beyond the reach of pursuit.
“If a dream should come in now to make you afear'd,With a wind-mill on his head, and bells at his beard;Would you straight wear your spectacles here at your toes,And your boots on your brows, and your spurs on your nose?”—Ben Jonson.“No——-heWith more than Roman fortitude is everFirst at the board in this unhappy processAgainst his last and only son.”—The Two Foscari.
DREAMS, ye strange mysterious visions of the soul! Ye wild and freakish gambolings of the spirit, freed from the incubus of matter, and unfettered by the control of reason, of what fantastic caprices are ye the originators—what caricatures of the various features of our waking life do ye not exhibit to us, ludicrous and distorted indeed, but still preserving through their most extravagant exaggerations a wayward and grotesque likeness to the realities they shadow forth! And stranger even than your most strange vagaries, is the cool matter-of-fact way in which our sleeping senses calmly accept and acquiesce in the medley of impossible absurdities you offer to their notice. We conceive ourselves, for instance, proceeding along a green lane on horseback; the animal upon which we are mounted becomes suddenly, we know and care not how, a copper tea-kettle, and we ride quietly on without testifying, or even feeling, the least symptom of surprise, as though the identity of hackneys and tea-kettles was a fact generally recognised in natural history; the kettle perhaps addresses us, it converses with us on all the subjects which interest us most deeply; and we discuss our various hopes and fears, joys and sorrows, loves and hates, with no other sentiment, save a degree of pleasure at the very sensible and enlightened views which the utensil takes of the matter. I might multiply examples, ad infinitum, to illustrate my meaning; but to those who are familiar with the phenomena alluded to one instance will suffice; while those who have never experienced them will probably, at all events, take refuge in disbelief, and lament themselves with a self-satisfying sorrow over the fresh proof it adduces of the truth of the Israelitish monarch's aphorism, that “all men are liars “.
Be this as it may, my sleep (when, at length, after the excitement I had undergone, sleep condescended to visit me, which was not until, contrary to all the rules of good breeding, Somnus had allowed me to call upon him repeatedly in vain) was disturbed by all sorts and kinds of visions. Lawlesses innumerable, attended by shoals of top-booted shrimps—the visionary shrimp being a sort of compromise between the boy so called and the real article—drove impossible dog-carts drawn by quadrupeds whose heads and necks bore a striking resemblance to the waltz-loving Diana Clapperton, up and down ball-rooms, to the unspeakable terror of squadrons of turbaned old ladies. Deafening peals of bells, rung by troops of Freddy ColeMEN (which I take to be the correct plural of Coleman), were rousing night-capped nations from their slumbers in alarm, to whom flocks of frightened mayors were bleating forth bewildered orders, which resulted in perplexing everybody; and through it all, mixed up and combined with everything, the pale interesting face of Clara Saville,characterised by an expression of the deepest sadness, gazed at me reproachfully out of its large trustful eyes, and rendered me intensely miserable. From dreams such as these I was not sorry to be aroused by the sun shining brightly through my window-shutter; and, on consulting my watch, I found, somewhat to my surprise, that I had slept till nearly midday.
On reaching the breakfast-room my first inquiry was for Lawless, in reply to which, I was informed that he had returned (on the fire-engine) about half an hour after I came in; that immediately upon his arrival he had called for unlimited supplies of rum, lemons, and other suitable ingredients, wherewith he manufactured a monster brewing of punch in a washing-tub for the benefit of the firemen, with whom he had somehow contrived to establish the most amicable relations; he then assisted in discussing the beverage he had prepared, which appeared to produce no particular effects until, wishing to rise to return thanks when they drank his health, he suddenly lost his balance, and being carried to bed by the waiter and boots, had not yet reappeared. Not liking to disturb him, I breakfasted alone, and then strolled out to look after Freddy. I found him sitting in the study, busily engaged in drawing the lease he had mentioned to us the night before. On seeing me, however, he sprang up, and, shaking me by the hand, inquired how I was after our adventures.
“That's all right, so far,” was his reply to my assurance that my injured arm was going on favourably, and that I felt no other ill effects of any kind. “I tell you what,” he continued, “my governor's in no end of a rage about the bell-ringing affair: that old fool of a mayor recognised me it seems, and vows vengeance, threatening to do all sorts of things to me, and the governor swears he'll aid and abet him in anything he chooses to do. They had better take care what they are at, or they may find I'm not to be bullied with impunity; but come along into the drawing-room; I don't mind facing the elders now I've got you to support me; and really, what between my father's accusations and my mother's excuses, it's as good as a play.”
“You're abominably undutiful, Master Fred,” replied I, as I turned to follow him.
On reaching the drawing-room we found Mr. Coleman standing with his arms folded with an air of dignified severity, so exactly in the centre of the hearth-rug that he seemed to belong to the pattern. Seated in a low arm-chair on the right-hand side of the fireplace was Mrs.Coleman, apparently absorbed in the manufacture of some mysterious article of knitting, which constantly required propitiating by the repetition of a short arithmetical puzzle, without which it would by no means allow itself to be created. At her feet, engaged in the Sisyphian labour of remedying the effects of “a great fall” in worsteds, scissors, and other “articles for the work-table,” knelt Lucy Markham, looking so piquante and pretty, that I could not help wondering how my friend Freddy contrived to keep himself heart-whole, if, as I imagined, he was thrown constantly into her society. The party was completed by a large, sleek, scrupulously white cat, clearly a privileged individual, who sat bolt upright in the chair opposite Mrs. Coleman, regarding the company with an air of intense self-satisfaction, and evidently considering the whole thing got up for her express delectation. Mr. Coleman received me with pompous civility, hoping I felt no ill effects from my exertions in theearlierpart of the evening—taking care to lay a marked emphasis on the word earlier. Lucy acknowledged my presence by a smile and a slight inclination of the head, but without altering her position. Worthy Mrs. Coleman, however, jumped up and shook hands warmly with me, thereby providing Lucy with full employment for the next ten minutes in picking up the whole machinery of the knitting.
“Very glad indeed to see you, Mr. Lawless,” commenced Mrs. Coleman.
“It's Fairlegh, mother,” interposed Freddy.
“Yes, my dear, yes, I knew it was Mr. Fairlegh, only I'm always making a mistake about names; but I never forget a face I have once seen; and I'm sure I'm not likely to forget Mr. Fairlegh's after the noble way in which he behaved last night” (here Mr. Coleman turned away with a kind of ironical growl, and began caressing the cat). “I declare when I saw him setting Clara Saville's dress on fire, so nicely made as it was too——”
“My dear aunt,” remonstrated Lucy, “it was Mr. Lawless who threw down the candelabrum, and set Clara's frock alight.”
“Yes, my love, I know, I saw it all, my dear; and very kind it was of him, I mean afterwards, in speaking to me of it; he said he was so very sorry about it—and he called it something funny, poor young man—'no end of a something or other '———”
“Sell,” suggested Freddy.
“Oh yes, that was it, no end of a sell. What did he mean by that, my dear?”
"I strongly disapprove,” observed Mr. Coleman (who still continued stroking the cat as he spoke, which process he performed by passing his hand deliberately from her head, along her back, to the very tip of her tail, which he retained each time in his grasp for a moment, ere he recommenced operations), “I highly disapprove of the absurd practice, so common with young men of the present day, of expressing their ideas in that low and incomprehensible dialect, termed 'slang,' which, in my opinion, has neither wit nor refinement to redeem its vulgarity, and which effectually prevents their acquiring that easy yet dignified mode of expression which should characterise the conversation of the true gentleman. Inmyyounger days we took Burke for our model; the eloquence of Pitt and Fox gave the tone to society; and during our hours of relaxation we emulated the polished wit of Sheridan; but it is a symptom of that fearful levelling system which is one of the most alarming features of the present age; instead of striving to raise and exalt———”
“Really, my dear Mr. Coleman, I beg your pardon for interrupting you,” cried his wife, “but this is the second time you've lifted my poor little cat off her hind legs by her tail; and though she's as good as gold, and lets you do just what you like to her, it can't be pleasant for her, I'm sure.”
The only reply to this, if reply it can be called, was an angry “Psha!” and, turning on his heel, Mr. Coleman strode with great dignity towards the window, though the effect was considerably marred by his stumbling against an ottoman which stood in the way, and hurting his shin to an extent which entailed rubbing, albeit a sublunary and un-Spartan operation, as a necessary consequence. A pause ensued, which at length became so awkward that I was about to hazard some wretched commonplace or other, for the sake of breaking the silence, when Mrs. Coleman addressed me with:—
“You'll take some luncheon, Mr. Lawless, I'm sure. Freddy,ring the bell!”
“He'll be ready enough to do that,” growled Mr. Coleman; “you could not have asked a fitter person.”
“Of course he will, a dear fellow,” replied Mrs. Coleman; “he's always ready to oblige anybody.”
“I disapprove greatly of such extreme facility of disposition,” observed Mr. Coleman; “it lays a young man open to every temptation that comes in his way; and, for want of a proper degree of firmness and self-respect, he gets led into all kinds of follies and excesses.”
"Now, my dear Mr. Coleman,” returned his wife, “I cannot bear to hear you talk in that way; you are too hard upon poor Freddy and his young friends; I'm certain they meant no harm;—if theydidring the bells by way of a joke, I daresay they had drunk rather more champagne than was prudent, and scarcely knew what they were about; and really all they seem to have done was to make people get up a little sooner than usual, and that is rather a good thing than otherwise, for I'm sure if you did but know the trouble I have sometimes in getting the maids out of bed in the morning—and that lazy fine gentleman of a footman too, he's just as bad.—Why, what's the matter now?”
“I really am astonished at you, Mrs. Coleman,” exclaimed her husband, walking hurriedly across the room—although this time he took good care to avoid the ottoman, “encouraging that boy of yours in such scandalous and ungentlemanly proceedings as those he was engaged in last night! No harm, indeed! I only hope (that is, I don't hope it at all, for he deserves to be punished, and I wish he may) that the laws of his country may think there's no harm in it. Mr. Dullmug, the mayor, intends, very properly in my opinion, to appeal to those laws; that is a thing, I am proud to say, no Englishman ever does in vain. You may smile, sir,” he continued, detecting Freddy in the act of telegraphing to me his dissent from the last doctrine propounded. “You may ridicule your old father's opinion, but you'll find it no laughing matter to clear yourself, and justify your conduct, in a court of justice. They may bring it in conspiracy, for I daresay you plotted it all beforehand; they may bring it in riot and illegal assembly, for there were three of you engaged in it; they may bring it in treason, for you incited his majesty's subjects to commit a broach of the peace, and interfered with the proper officers in the discharge of their duty: 'pon my word I don't know that they may not bring it in murder, for the poor child that had the measles in the town died between six and seven o'clock this morning, and no doubt the confusion had something to do with accelerating its death. So, sir, if you're not hanged, you're certain to be transported; and don't ask me to assist you; I've lived by supporting the law for fifty years, and I'm not going in my old age to lend my countenance to those who break it, and set it at nought, though my own son be one of them. I have spoken my mind plainly, Mr. Fairlegh, more so perhaps than I should have done before a guestin my own house, but it is a matter upon which I feel deeply. I wish you good-morning, sir.” So saying, he turned away, and stalked majestically out of the room, closely followed, not to say imitated, by the cat, who held her tail erect, so as to form a right angle with the line of her back, and walked with a hypocritical air of meek dignity and chastened self-approval.
“That's what I call pleasant and satisfactory,” exclaimed Freddy, after a pause, during which each member of the party exchanged glances of consternation with somebody else. “Who would ever have imagined the possibility of the governor's turning cantankerous—assuming the character of the Roman father upon the shortest possible notice, and thirsting to sacrifice his son on the altar of the outraged laws of his country! What an interesting victim I shall make, to be sure! Lucy must lend me that wreath of roses she looked so pretty in last night, to wear at the fatal ceremony. And my dear mother shall stand near, tearing out those revered locks of hers by handfuls.” (The reader should perhaps be informed that Mrs. Coleman rejoiced in a false front of so open and ingenuous a nature, that from its youth upwards it never could have been guilty of deceiving any one.) “May I ring and tell John to have all the carving knives sharpened? it would be more satisfactory to my feelings not to be slaughtered with a blunt weapon.”
“Don't talk in that way, Frederick,” cried Mrs. Coleman. “I'm sure your father would never think of doing such dreadful things; but I believe you're only making fun of him, which isn't at all right of you. I'm not a bit surprised at his being angry with you, when you know how steady he always says he was as a young man (not that I ever quite believe it, though);henever went ringing bells, however late he might stay out at night, that I heard of (though I should never have known it if he had, very likely). I don't myself see any great harm in it, you know, Mr. Fairless, particularly after your saving poor Clara Saville, and Freddy from drowning, when you were all boys together—indeed I shall always have the highest opinion of you for it, only I wish you had never done it at all, either of you, because of making your father so angry, you I mean, Frederick.”
“Have you received any account of Miss Saville this morning?” inquired I, anxious to change the conversation; for I could see that Freddy, despite his assumed indifference, was a good deal annoyed at the serious light in which the old gentleman seemed to look upon ourescapade. “I should be glad to know that she was none the worse for all the alarm she must have suffered.”
“No, we have not heard anything of her,” replied Lucy. “Should we not send to inquire after her, aunt?”
“Certainly, my dear Lucy; I am glad you have reminded me; I always meant to send, only all this has put it out of my head.”
“Now, Frank, there's a splendid chance for you,” exclaimed Freddy; “nothing can be more correct than for you to call and make the proper inquiries in person; and then if old Stiff-back should happen not to be at home, and you can contrive to get let in, and the young lady be not actually a stone——”
“Indeed, Frederick, she is nothing of the kind,” interrupted Lucy warmly; “if you only knew her, you would be astonished to find what deep warm feelings are concealed beneath that calm manner of hers; but she has wonderful self-control. I could see last night how much she was grieved at being obliged to go away without having thanked Mr. Fairlegh for saving her.”
“Give her a chance to repair the error to-day, by all means, then,” said Freddy; “and if you should succeed in gaining an interview, and she really is anxious to do a little bit of the grateful, and old Vernor does not kick you downstairs, I shall begin to regret that I didn't extinguish her myself.”
“I really have a great mind to follow your advice,” returned I; “it is only proper to inquire after the young lady, and they need not let me in unless they like.”
“If you should see her, Mr. Lawlegh,” said Mrs. Coleman, “tell her from me how very much vexed I was about the candelabrum being thrown down and setting fire to her dress; it was made of the very best Dresden china, and must have cost (only it was a present, which made it all the more valuable, you know) fifteen or sixteen guineas; and I'm sure I wonder, now I come to think of it, why it did not flare up and burn her to death; but you were so quick and clever, and entirely spoilt that beautiful whittle of old Mrs. Trottles, with the greatest presence of mind; and I'm sure we ought all to be thankful to you for it; and we shall be delighted to see her when she has quite recovered it, tell her, particularly Lucy, who is nearest her own age, you know.”
“Let me see,” said Freddy, musing; “Mrs. Trottles must be seventy-two if she is a day; 'pon my word, Lucy, you're the youngest-looking woman of your age I evermet with; if I had not heard my mother say it myself, I'd never have believed it.”
“Believed what, Freddy? What have I said?” asked Mrs. Coleman.
“That Lucy was Mrs. Trottles' most intimate friend, because she was nearest her own age,” returned Freddy.
“No such thing, sir; I said, or I meant to say—only you are so tiresome with your jokes, that you puzzle one—that Lucy being her own age, I mean Clara's, Mr. Fairless was to tell her how very glad she would be—and very natural it is for young people to like young people—to see her; and I hope you'll remember to tell her all I have said exactly, Mr. Fairless, for I'm always anxious to try to please and amuse her, she's so very dull and stupid, poor thing!”
To perform this utter impossibility I faithfully pledged myself; and, taking a hasty farewell of the ladies, hurried out of the room to conceal a fit of laughter which had been gradually becoming irrepressible.
“Laugh away, old boy,” cried Freddy, who had accompanied me into the hall; “no wonder I'm an odd fellow, for, as Pat would say, my mother was one before me, and no mistake. I wish you luck with the fair Clara—not that you'll see her—old Vernor will take care of that somehow or other; even if he's not at home, he'll have locked her up safely before he went out, depend upon it.”
“You do not mean that in sober earnest?” said I.
“Perhaps not actually in fact,” replied Freddy, “but in effect I believe he does. Clara tells Lucy she never sees any one.”
“She shall see me to-day, if I can possibly contrive it,” said I. “Oh for the good old days of chivalry, when knocking the guardian on the head, and running away with the imprisoned damsel afterwards, would have been accounted a very moral and gentlemanlike way of spending the morning!”
“Certainly, they had a pleasant knack of simplifying matters, 'those knights of old,'” replied Freddy; “but it's not a line of business that would have suited me at all; in balancing their accounts, the kicks always appear to have obtained a very uncomfortable preponderance over the halfpence; besides, thecausa belliwas a point on which their ideas were generally in a deplorable state of confusion: when one kills a man, it's as well to have some slight notionwhyone does it; and the case comes home to one still more closely if it's somebody else who's going to kill you.”
“You're about right there, Master Freddy,” said I, smiling as I shook hands with him, and quitted the house. %