Chapter X (2)

"It is a beautiful place, and I loved to look at the white buildings thrown out in strong relief by the dark green forests behind them. My evenings, when my occupation would admit, were passed upon the Marina, watching the setting sun. One day I had walked to my usual spot for witnessing the contest of the currents; and, as I had frequently done before, I stripped, and plunged into the wave at a place where the eddies had hollowed out an artificial bay. I loved to breast the surge, to dash aside the threatening breaker, or dive beneath its power. My limbs were strong and pliant; I was fearless in an element that is seldom, if ever, conquered. The afternoon was sultry; there was an oppressive heat, that seemed to steam from both land and water, for the atmosphere above was clear and shining. My star had shone but dimly the night before, portending danger; yet I knew not from what quarter to expect it. After bathing, I dressed, and seated myself upon a rock, enjoying the scene, when, on turning my head, I beheld the youth I have mentioned at no great distance from me, standing on the extreme angle of low rock that jutted into the sea. He looked more serious and sedate than ever; there was a cast of melancholy on his features, and he seemed to be involved in intensity of thought. Suddenly a darkness overspread us, a heavy gloom arose; it was the work of a moment; I felt my earth-embedded seat lifted up, and oscillating to and fro. I saw huge pieces of solid rock rent from their mountain fastnesses, and hurled, crashing and thundering, into the torrent that roared and raged with unusual fury below. I beheld a wall of water rushing through the strait, and, calling to mind the dimness of my star, I knew the hour of trial was come: but I was too elevated to fear that mass of liquid element that swept every thing before it, though the strife that was apparently going on within the very bowels of the earth left me but small prospect of escape. The awful phenomenon at first paralysed my faculties, and I forgot the pale youth for the moment; but, on looking again towards him, there he stood, still gazing on the deep, whilst the heavy shocks of the earthquake were opening graves for his fellow-creatures. Onward rushed the perpendicular wave, and in an instant he was swept from his position into the maddened vortex of the hissing foam. I saw the catastrophe, monsieur, and for a second or two my spirit exulted in his overthrow; 'But he has parents,' thought I, 'they will moan his loss; and yet I cannot save him if I would.' The youth had disappeared beneath the mighty swell that inundated all the adjacent shore; but again he arose upon the surface, and was borne rapidly along past the spot where I was stationed. I had no home, no parents, no one who cared for the destitute outcast, not a creature in existence whose heart beat with affection for the child of misery; if I perished, I perished, and there would be none to weep for me. Without hesitation I sprang into that hissing foam, and was instantly thrown half body out again by the turbulence of the underset, as it forced itself to the surface. I struck out steadily and strongly with my arms and feet, but could preserve very little command as the impetuous waters rolled me over and over; but still I neared the object of my solicitude, who kept afloat, and at length I was by his side. Yet what could I do to aid him in his peril? 'Lift your head well up!' exclaimed I; 'strike out boldly with the current. I will not leave you.' He gave me one look; it was full of calm pride. I saw he was getting weak and required help, yet he disdained to ask for it. _Mon Dieu!_ but that was a struggle for existence! and momentarily was strength failing in that youth, whilst I felt my own gradually grow less. 'Dive!--dive!' shouted I, as I beheld that gigantic wave returning, in all its terrible vengeance, to meet us; 'dive for your life!' But he was nearly insensible to my call. I seized him by the shoulder, forced him under as far as possible, and the enormous billow passed above our heads. Once more the light of Heaven was on us,--once more we could see the blue expanse as if resting like a canopy on the summits of the mountains, and the eddy had whirled us to the entrance of an inlet, where the water was comparatively tranquil. 'Save yourself,' said my companion, 'I will do my best to follow. Save yourself, my friend.' I know not how it was, but the appellation, 'my friend,' seemed to instil fresh vigour into me. 'I will not abandon you,' shouted I; 'and, if you can fetch the cove, we are both saved.'--'It is impossible,' answered he; 'run no further hazard on my account.' His head was drooping, nature was nearly exhausted; he swam deep, and I became sensible that, unless by some desperate impulse, I could not save him. I swam close to him, gave him one end of my neckerchief, and told him to grip it tight; the other end I fixed between my teeth, and boldly tried for the inlet. A wave assisted my endeavours; the swell bore me onward, but it was towards a point where the sea was breaking fearfully high, and the passage to the inlet was extremely narrow. My companion complied with my injunctions; yet I could not forbear shuddering when I looked at the craggy barrier that seemed to foretell our fate. We neared the rocks, and, had the swell been rolling in, must have been dashed to pieces; but, just as we approached, the wave was receding; it carried us into the inlet stream. Hope cheered me on a few strokes more: the water was undulating, but smooth; but that youth, that pale youth, had disappeared. Still he could not be far distant. I turned, and dived; long practice had rendered me perfectly familiar with the art. I saw him sinking,--almost helpless; he was near the bottom. I went down after him even lower, and, taking renewed impetus from striking my feet against the ground, I bore him once more to the surface. The land was only a few yards distant, but his weight overpowered me. I struggled hard to gain the shore. Despair began to take possession of my mind; it rendered me desperate. A few feet was all that divided us from safety, when a dizziness came over me, my brain whirled, the waters were over my mouth; I thought of the dimness of my star, and believed my minutes were numbered. Another rally from the heart produced another effort; my hands were on the rocks. I grappled them, but my fingers could not retain their clutch; I slipped away: the water was deep even there, and death seemed certain. Oh, God! how dreadful was that moment of suspense! The burthen, which I still sustained, was inanimate, and I was about to loose my hold of him, when another gigantic wave swept in; it lifted me on to the flat that I had been striving for; it receded, and left us on hard ground: the ocean had lost its prey. I stripped my young companion, chafed his limbs; his heart still beat, and in about half an hour he evinced signs of returning consciousness. That moment was to me one of the happiest of my existence. In another hour he was perfectly restored, though weak; and, leaning on my arm, we proceeded towards the town. But where was Messina? that beautiful Messina that we had quitted so recently? A mass of ruins! A scene of indescribable confusion and dismay! The inhabitants had thronged to the mountains for a place of refuge; and, as we entered the deserted streets, a death-like stillness prevailed, broken only by the deep groan or the shrill shriek of those who yet remained alive with shattered frames and broken limbs, unable to escape. Houses were levelled with the ground. Here yawned a hideous chasm that had buried its living victims; there lay huge masses of stone with crushed and mutilated bodies beneath them,--the dead and the dying. Oh! my lord, it was a fearful spectacle, and my spirit drank in all its horrors. We sought the humble residence in which I had found an asylum; no vestige of it remained. We looked for the more noble mansion in which my companion had taken up his abode; it was a chaos. Food there was plenty, Faro wine in abundance; and we amply refreshed ourselves, whilst I own my heart swelled with pride at the thought that we were the masters in this once noble city. My companion expressed his gratitude for the services I had rendered him; but he did it proudly. He said he was going to France; and my heart yearned to revisit my native land. I remembered Madame T----, and the solemn pledge I had given her: I longed to see Paris,--that Paris of which I had heard so much; and I earnestly brooded on the schemes which were to level royalty to the dust. You will say I was but a boy. True! But what instruction was to others, deadly revenge was to me; it had been my lesson conned at every season, my sole education,--and my teacher fully competent to superintend her pupil.

"But Messina!--there it lay prostrate with the dust; churches thrown down, and the sacred vestments scattered; public buildings in wreck, hotels and palazzos as if they had never been. We were standing in the square, when another shock tumbled the fragments hither and thither, mingling them in greater confusion. My companion was for hastening up the eminences to see who had escaped: I preferred remaining, as all places were alike to me; besides, I was poor, wretchedly poor, and there was the prospect of gold to be obtained. The pale youth did not tell me his name, nor did I think to ask it: he gave me a small silver medal that he had worn round his neck by way of remembrance, and I presented him with a flat piece of whalebone on which in my idle hours I had rudely carved my name. We parted, and in a short time my hazardous enterprise was richly recompensed. I found what I coveted, gold! I filled my slender pockets, and yet there was gold; I dug a hole and buried my treasure, but still wealth almost unbounded lay scattered in the streets. I hastened to the harbour; wrecks and dead bodies were everywhere floating. A boat was drifting near the quay, and, having secured her, I hastened back to the place where my riches were concealed. But the marauders had entered the town, and I feared that they would plunder me; so I returned to the boat and shoved off from the shore, and there I lay in her bottom as she drove into the bay, dreading detection, and fearing to lose my ill-acquired wealth. I had been contented with a little when only a few copper coins had been my fortune; but, now I was possessed of gold, I coveted that which I had left behind. A brigantine that was making her escape from the devastation picked me up. I offered the captain gold to give me a passage to whatever place he might be going. My dress and appearance bespoke poverty,--the glittering coin betrayed me: I was stripped of every ducat, thrust into the boat again, and cast adrift upon a tempestuous night. The only valuable I retained was the medal which I slung round my neck next to my skin.

"Dark and dreary was the tumultuous ocean as my little vessel floated at the mercy of the wind and sea; the gale howled fearfully over me, the waves rolled angrily beneath me; no star illumined the vault of heaven; but there was a glowing brilliancy of sparkling lustres on the waters, as if the caverns of the deep had sent forth their gems to supply the defection of the starry host. The billows threw up their haughty heads crested with feathery foam, and the spray saturated my clothes through and through: but the weather was warm to a child of the North; and thus I continued for many long lonely hours, till daylight once again appeared. And such a daylight! The storm had passed away,--the gorgeous splendour of the sun as he arose from the horizon was worth all the pain I had endured only to witness; but his cheering rays came as kindly to my heart as they were welcome to my person. It was like the smiling face of a friend to gladden the spirit in adversity. I was at no great distance from the shore; yet so beautiful was the scene, that, but for hunger, I should have been contented to have remained gazing on the spectacle. The cravings of nature, however, were powerful; I paddled to the rocks, landed, and hurried back to that remnant of a town I had been so eager to quit. I found no difficulty in appeasing my appetite: the inhabitants were returning in groups to weep over their shattered dwellings, and, as they looked mournfully on each other, most of them were uttering lamentations for a relative or a friend. Piece by piece I was enabled to change my dress, and make a more creditable appearance; and this, too, without being over scrupulous as to the appropriation. I was unknown to every one, for nobody remembered the poor child of labour. I made inquiry after my companion of the former day, but could gain no intelligence of him; and thus I wandered amongst the dust and ashes of ruins, an observer unheeded and uncared for.

"But I well remembered the spot where I had hidden my treasure, and, when the shades of evening shrouded the surrounding objects in their gloom, I went stealthily towards it. No language can adequately describe the perturbation of my mind; hope and fear, anticipations of good and evil, the pleasures of anxious expectation, and the dread of bitter disappointment, alternately held their influence over me. I had not a marvedi in the world; but, if the place of concealment was untouched, I was the possessor of wealth beyond my most sanguine wants for years. I beheld the stone which I had rolled over the excavation, at once to hide and to direct; its position was unchanged. I gazed earnestly around,--I listened for a sound; but all was solitary and silent. In ecstasy I rolled away the obstruction, thrust in my arm, and, whilst my fingers clutched the golden heaps, my breast was on the earth, and I could hear the beatings of my heart. Thus I lay for some time indulging in delicious dreams of future enjoyment, not unmingled, however, with those contemplations which had become harmonised with every action of my existence. At various intervals I removed my gold to a place of greater security, and soon after availed myself of an opportunity of returning to Toulon with the captain who had first of all landed me in Corsica. Oh, what anxious moments did I pass lest another discovery should deprive me of my store! I did not dare to close my eyes in sleep, lest my person or my small matter of luggage should be searched. I no longer threw myself heedlessly down in any spot to court repose. Suspicion and distrust poisoned the very source of pleasure; I looked upon all men as my enemies, because I could confide in none. But I reached Toulon unmolested, and without loss of time I hastened to the cottage of Madame T----, vain-glorious of my achievement----"

"Which, to my mind, looks most d----ly like thieving, monsieur," said Lord Eustace warmly.

"My lord, I am sensible of the wrong I perpetrated," responded Citizen Begaud; "but you seem to forget I was a boy, steeped in poverty to the very lips, bound by a solemn pledge to a certain purpose, through influences that had actuated me from my earliest remembrances. I looked upon the gold as a means to further my views. I had no guide for my youth, and my star----"

"Was, it seems, anything but an honourable one," added Lord Eustace, interrupting him. "Yet, monsieur, I own your narrative has interested me; and, under the hope that there is something of a redeeming quality yet to come, I earnestly request the favour of its continuation."

The Frenchman bowed, and darkness hid both the frown on his brow and the flush of anger on his cheek.

"Madame T---- had left the neighbourhood of Bordeaux, and gone to Paris. Thither I followed; but all my efforts were unavailing to discover her habitation. The internal state of the city was that of dissatisfaction with the ruling powers; plots and conspiracies were hatched, quarrels fomented, and the seeds of discord were rapidly swelling to burst the earth that covered them, and spread into a tree of monstrous growth. The _intriguantes_ industriously circulated reports of the queen and the nobility, that were eagerly swallowed by the lower orders, to increase and justify their hostility to the great. At first I kept aloof from any decided course, and for two years was a silent observer of all that was passing around me. I lived frugally, so as neither to excite envy nor create suspicion; and I saw with inexpressible satisfaction that the machinery was putting together that would, when brought into full operation, decide the fate of the Bourbons. I was almost daily in the vicinity of the palaces, and frequently, whilst gazing on the beauty of the queen, my purposes were shaken. Numerous opportunities offered to deprive the sovereign of his life; but I disdained to become an assassin. Besides, it was not Louis alone whose downfall I had been taught to consider an act of justice. It was the whole of the privileged orders, of which he was the head and chief; and a blow at him would have aroused the aristocrats to a sense of impending danger.

"Such was the position of my own and public affairs when I had attained my seventeenth year. But I had not passed the intermediate time in indolence. I went to school, I studied hard, became an expert swordsman, and tolerably proficient in the branches of general education: I perused the works of authors both dead and living; I tested their writings by a careful examination of men and manners. But I had yet much to learn. One day I made an excursion on horseback to Fontainbleau; the royal family were at the palace, and there was a young female in the suite of her majesty--Why should I withhold the fact? Monsieur, my soul was captivated by that angelic girl. I was not aware that she had ever noticed or even seen me so as to recall my features to remembrance; I had made no show of my attachment beyond that silent adoration of the heart which the countenance is but too apt to reveal. She it was who drew me towards Fontainbleau, under the hope of obtaining a casual glance. I was wandering in the forest, nursing the secret thoughts of her who controlled my actions: evening came on, and darkness surprised me in one of the most retired parts. I was too well inured to privations to heed the occurrence. The night was serene and warm, and I prepared to pass it beneath the branches of some venerable tree; in fact, I was sitting down for the purpose of repose, when a shouting and the report of fire-arms at no great distance aroused me to energy. The direction of the parties was well defined: they might be friends or foes, honest men or thieves; to me it was a matter of indifference, for in either case I should find a guide out of the wood. Without a moment's hesitation I dashed through the tangled briers, and on a nearer approach ascertained that a deadly conflict was going on. A few minutes brought me to the scene of action; it was upon the main road which I had missed, and the opening between the trees admitted sufficient light to show two of the combatants stretched upon the ground. There were still two to two engaged with swords; but one of them fell soon after my arrival, and the survivor turned to assist his fellow against the only opponent left. Whilst they were upon an equality I did not care to interfere, especially as I knew not which was the injured party; but the odds decided me at once, and, snatching up a sword, I placed myself in attitude by the side of the solitary. My antagonist was a skilful swordsman; but I had time to observe that the individual whom I befriended was richly dressed, and by no means a master of his weapon, whilst the person opposed to him was greatly his inferior. I got close to him, parried a thrust from my own immediate _engagé_, and returned by a side sleight upon his comrade, who received it in his breast, and, staggering backwards with great violence, pulled the sword from my hand and left me at the mercy of the other. His pass was sure; but, dexterously evading it, the weapon only went through the fleshy part of my arm, and the force with which it was given brought it up to the hilt. We grappled together. I was young and vigorous, but he possessed all the muscular strength and power of manhood. I felt his grip upon my throat; we fell heavily together upon the earth. He retained his superiority above me; and strangulation was rapidly going on, when suddenly his hold relaxed, he sprang from me, rolled over and over, and then stretched himself stiffly out a lifeless corpse. The sword of the disengaged had passed through his heart. I was not long in recovering sensibility, and on raising my head saw that we were all down, wounded and bleeding. The gentleman in rich attire was seated with his back against a tree, wiping the perspiration from his forehead, and, on seeing me move, he exclaimed, 'Whoever you are, take my best thanks. If you live, I will prove my sense of the obligation by more than words; if you die, carry the gratitude of a nation with you before your maker. But how is it? are you seriously or mortally hurt? _Mon Dieu!_ this has been no boy's pastime, anyhow.' I assured him my injuries were not severe; and, to prove the truth of my assertion, I got up, went towards him, and tendered my assistance. '_Grace à Dieu!_' said he, 'I have only a few scratches. But we must not remain here: the rascals have driven off with the carriage to plunder it; they will return directly to help their comrades. Are all my fellows dead?' I felt the breasts of each to ascertain if there was any throbbing of the heart. One of the servants and two of the robbers were yet living, though desperately wounded, and I reported to that effect. 'We can expect nothing from them,' said he, 'and therefore must trust to our own resources. You know the passages of the forest?' '_Non, monsieur_,' returned I. 'My acquaintance with the forest has been only that of a few hours. I am a stranger here, and was about to pass the night between the trees when I heard the report of fire-arms.'--'Ah! they shot my coachman,' said he, 'the villains; and my carriage has the edicts in it for the royal sign-manual, with other matters. Bah! there would be a pretty prize for the robbers did the rogues know their worth.' This was uttered to himself, and apparently not designed for me to hear. 'May I inquire the name and rank of the noble who so opportunely saved my life?' asked I.--'All in good time, young man; you should never listen to state secrets. Saved your life, eh? You have been to court and have learned to flatter. Abandon it, young man: flattery is bad enough in old age, but detestable from youth. I need no such incitements to remembrance. Help me rise.' I obeyed. 'And now,' continued he, 'we must find our way to the palace.'

"My heart leaped with joy at the thought: I should see, I should be near the young Countess de M----. Ever prone to extravagance, the most preposterous hopes and prospects filled my mind: I laughed outright. 'Are you mad?' inquired my companion. 'In what can you find cause for mirth?'--'The heart knoweth its own bitterness,' returned I, 'and a stranger intermeddleth not with its joy,'--'True, true,' responded he. 'But come, let us strive to find our way.' He put his arm within mine, and silently we traced the road for about two miles, when we came to one of the lodges that formed a residence for a keeper, and here we obtained horses and a guide, and in less than half an hour we were within the walls of that venerable building the palace of Fontainbleau. My companion had gained a ready admittance; his word of command was almost electric, and at first I thought it was the Duke of Orleans, but that his visit to the royal family would be deemed an insult. At all events I was consigned to the care of an officer of the household, and I had no cause to complain of my treatment. After the lapse of an hour, an attendant summoned me to wait upon the individual I had so timely rescued. My dress, from being torn by the brambles, certainly was not much suited for the ostentatious gaiety of a court at a period when extravagant profusion was considered as essential to the prosperity of the nation; nor had it lost anything by the struggle on the ground with the bandit. Still I obeyed without hesitation; and, after passing through several gorgeous apartments, an officer with a white wand arrested our further progress. He then tapped gently at an inner door; there was the tinkling of a bell, the portal flew back, and within was a resplendent blaze of light that dazzled and confounded me. I was reassured, however, by the voice of my companion, who uttered in a low voice, 'Enter, young man;' and obeying, I found myself in the presence of the king and queen. Louis was seated at a table covered with toys, and the young prince was on his knee. Marie Antoinette was watching with the eye of maternal affection the playful delight of her child; and, much as I had imbibed an undeviating hatred to royalty, I could not behold the spectacle unmoved. Near her majesty stood the young Countess de M----, and the fascination of her beauteous eye enchained my faculties. In a few minutes the queen and her suite retired, and my companion questioned me in the presence of the monarch relative to my station in life, the cause of my being in the forest, and on several other topics, all which I answered as best suited my own purposes. Louis spake kindly to me, but his very kindness filled my heart with bitter feelings; and when, turning to my companion of the forest, he said, 'Monsieur Calonne, we must find some fitting service for this youth,' I could have stabbed him through and through. This, then, was Monsieur Calonne, the head of the ministry,--he who had dared to propose a tax upon the privileged orders, and had assembled the Notables to shame them into compliance with his scheme; this was the man who had plunged the finances of the country into confusion and ruin, for the purpose of bringing down the pride of the nobles and the clergy, who had raised him to his elevated exaltation. His place was one of danger and distrust: he aimed a severe blow at the privileged orders, without conciliating the people; for, though the latter applauded the equalizing system, yet they despised the minister who, by his reckless profusion, was involving them in ruin. That night I retired----"

"Sail, ho!" was shouted from the forecastle, and Lord Eustace immediately started from his attitude of deep attention.

"Whereabouts is she?" demanded the officer of the watch, his voice reverberating amongst the sails, and the most profound stillness reigning fore and aft.

"Broad away on the starboard bow, sir," replied the look-out; and Lord Eustace, being furnished with his night-glass, walked forward to examine the stranger, leaving the recital of Citizen Captain Begaud to be finished at another opportunity.

SONG OF THE OLD BELL.

In an old village, amid older hills,
That close around their verdant walls to guard
Its tottering age from wintry winds, I dwell
Lonely, and still, save when the clamorous rooks
Or my own fickle changes wound the ear
Of Silence in my tower!
ANON.

For full five hundred years I've swung
In my old grey turret high,
And many a different theme I've sung
As the time went stealing by!
I've peal'd the chaunt of a wedding morn;
Ere night I have sadly toll'd,
To say that the bride was coming, love-lorn,
To sleep in the church-yard mould!
Ding-dong,
My careless song;
Merry and sad,
But neither long!

For full five hundred years I've swung
In my ancient turret high,
And many a different theme I've sung
As the time went stealing by!
I've swell'd the joy of a country's pride
For a victory far off won,
Then changed to grief for the brave that died
Ere my mirth had well begun!
Ding-dong,
My careless song;
Merry or sad,
But neither long!

For full five hundred years I've swung
In my breezy turret high,
And many a different theme I've sung
As the time went stealing by!
I have chimed the dirge of a nation's grief
On the death of a dear-loved king,
Then merrily rung for the next young chief;
As _told_, I can weep or sing!
Ding-dong,
My careless song;
Merry or sad,
But neither long!

For full five hundred years I've swung
In my crumbling turret high;
'Tis time my own death-song were sung,
And with truth before I die!
I never could love the themes they gave
My tyrannized tongue to tell:
One moment for cradle, the next for grave--
They've worn out the old church bell!
Ding-dong,
My changeful song;
Farewell now,
And farewell long!
W.

MIDNIGHT MISHAPS.

BY EDWARD MAYHEW.

WITH AN ILLUSTRATION BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.

Oh the rural suburbs of London!--the filthy suburbs!--where nothing is green but the water, nothing natural but the dirt,--where the trees are clipt into poles, and the hedges grow behind palings,--where "no thoroughfare" forbids you to walk in one place, and the dust prevents you from walking in another,--the filthy suburbs!

It was these delightful precincts of peace and "_caution_," retirement and "_handsome rewards_," that Mr. Jacob Tweasle honoured with his decided preference. This gentleman had inhabited a small shop at the foot of Snow-hill for more than forty years, retailing tobacco to the tradesmen, and cigars to the apprentices; and, having by supplying other people's boxes gradually filled his own, he, how in his sixtieth year, declined the manufacture of weeds for the cultivation of exotics.

An "Italian villa," beautifully situated in a back lane near Hornsey, was pointed out to the tobacconist by a house-agent as particularly "snug and retired." Before the ostentatious white front of this "enviable residence" were exactly twenty square yards of lawn, "delightfully wooded" by a solitary laburnum, which was approached over a highly "ornamental Chinese bridge," crossing "a convenient stream of water." The interior of the building it was "impossible for the most fastidious to object to;" the rooms were so low, and the windows so small, that the happy occupant always imagined himself a hundred miles from the metropolis; the prospect, too, from the upper stories "revelled in all the luxuries of the picturesque;" the dome of St. Paul's lent magnificence to the distance, while the foreground was enlivened by a brick-field.

Mr. Tweasle saw, approved, yet doubted. He did not know what to say to it. There was, he acknowledged, everything that heart of man could desire; the garden was walled in, and the steel-traps and cabbages might be taken as fixtures; nevertheless he reached the bridge without having made up his mind. There he paused, and gazed in anxious meditation upon the black and heavy liquid that stagnated beneath. "Can one fish here?" suddenly asked the tobacconist, at the same time leaning over and disturbing the "convenient stream of water" with his cane.

"_I_ never do myself," replied the agent, in such a manner as to imply that other people frequently did; for Tweasle instantly inquired,

"What do they catch?"

The agent was puzzled. Was the Londoner really ignorant, or was this a design to test the truth of all his former assertions? It was a case which required extreme caution. "I am no angler myself,--I have no time for that delightful recreation; but--I should think--that eels--eels--probably--eels--might----"

"Stewed eels make a nice supper," interrupted Tweasle with gluttonous simplicity. "Fish arn't to be got fresh in London."

"Fish ought to be eaten the moment it is taken from the water," cried the agent with decision.

"My boy's got a fishing-rod," said Tweasle; and he took the Italian villa on a repairing lease.

The announcement of this event created a "sensation" at the foot of Snow-hill; the Rubicon was past; the business _was_ to be disposed of; and, that no time might be lost, Mr. Tweasle, without taking off his gloves, began to scribble an advertisement, while Mrs. Tweasle waddled into the shop and insulted a customer.

All was confusion. To fly from the paternal protection of the Lord Mayor, and emigrate off the stones, was no casual event to him who had hitherto proudly exulted in the freedom of the city. Much was necessary to reconcile the mind to so bold a measure. The lady undertook to pack up everything that could be got in London, and purchase everything that could not be got in the country. The gentleman, acting as a man should, wholly neglected the domestic. He gave his attention to the noble arts of agriculture and self-defence, botanical theories, treatises, and directories. Horticultural implements, instruments, and improvements, swords and pistols, guns and blunderbusses, detonating crackers for the shutters, and alarums for the bedrooms, he spared neither trouble nor expense to procure.

"Now, Hanney, dear," said Tweasle to his wife, surveying the weapons which had just been sent home, "I thinks here's everything a contented mind could desire: the thieves will know better than to come where we are."

But the timid woman's ideas of defence were concentrated in a flannel gown and a rattle; she looked more terrified than assured:--fire-arms and accidents were, in her mind, synonymous; and her only answer was an urgent entreaty that "those nasty things might be always so locked up that _nobody could_ get at them."

In due time everything that the family thought they could possibly want was procured; and when, to render the whole complete, Master Charles, only son and heir, was commissioned to procure live stock from St. Giles's, the boy returned with almond tumblers for pigeon-pies, and bantam-cocks for poultry.

"New-laid eggs for breakfast!" chuckled his papa.

All being at length ready for starting on the following day, and as the house was dismantled even to the junction of the bed-posts, the family determined to pass their last evening in London, whispering soft adieus to their more intimate acquaintance. At first Tweasle conducted himself with becoming hypocrisy. He lamented his separation from the "friends of his youth," and ate cake and drank wine with imposing solemnity; but, as the ceremony was repeated, he committed himself by an occasional smile, and at last slipped out something about "poor devils, who were smoked to death like red herrings." Mrs. Tweasle was shocked, and hurried her husband away; who, however, warmed into truth, would not acknowledge his error or go to bed, but insisted on saying good-b'ye to his old friend Gingham. They found the Ginghams preparing for supper; and, on company arriving, the servant was whispered "to bring up the beef," which Tweasle overhearing, he turned to the hostess, and exultingly cried,

"Come and see us in the country, and I'll give you stewed eels and chicken for supper."

"I'm very sorry _we've_ nothing _better_ than cold beef to offer _you_, sir," replied the lady with a look; "but I can send out."

"Not for the world!" shouted Mrs. Tweasle, who was rejoiced when a request to be seated relieved her from reiterating her conciliatory wishes that no one would mind her good man, who during supper would converse on no other subject than the pleasures of new-laid eggs and the country, till, having finished one glass of gin and water, he undertook to explain to his friend how it was that _he_ also could leave off business like a squire. Nor was this personal investigation of private family affairs rendered less unpleasant by the indelicate egotism which induced the exhibitor to illustrate his friend's faults by his own virtues; till, though repeatedly requested to "drop it," Tweasle wound up his harangue by calling his host a fool.

"You're a fool, Gingham. You might ha' been as well off as I am at the present moment, if you hadn't lived at such a rate, like a fool."

The lady of the house instantly arose, and left the room in company with her daughters, telling Mr. Tweasle "_they_ were going to bed;" and Mr. Gingham leant over the table to inform his guest, "he had no wish to quarrel."

Of the rest of that evening Tweasle the next day retained a very confused recollection. He thought some one pushed him about in a passage, and remembered his wife's assisting him to put on his great-coat in the middle of the street.

At the appointed hour, the glass-coach which was to convey the family from London stopped at the foot of Snow-hill. Mr. Tweasle was the first to jump in; the person to whom the business had been advantageously disposed of, gave his hand to Mrs. Tweasle, and then turned to say farewell to her husband.

"All I've got in this blessed world I made in that shop," said Tweasle, anxious to give his successor a high opinion of the bargain, and leave a good name behind him. "The many--many--happy--peaceful days I've seen in it!--I can't expect to see them again!--On a Saturday and on a Monday I've often been fit to drop behind my own counter, quite worn out with customers. I'm afraid I've done a rash thing; but I've this consolation, I've left the business in good hands."

"Come, don't look dull, Tweasle," cried his wife, who was imposed on by her husband's pathetics: "cheer up! You know trade ain't what it was, and I'm sure the two last years must have been a 'losing game.'"

It is impossible to say whether he who had bought or he who had sold the business looked most appalled by this untimely truth. However, Tweasle was the first to recover himself: he took his victim affectionately by the hand, and, leaning forward, whispered in propitiatory confidential accents, "Always put a little white pepper in Alderman Heavyside's Welsh, or he'll think you've adulterated it."

But the successor was hurt past such slender consolation. With lofty integrity he spurned the advice of his deceiver; for, jerking his hand away, and looking Tweasle sternly in the face, he said, "Sir, I shall do my duty!" and he strutted into the shop; whereupon the coach began to move.

Disposed by this little incident to sadness, its late occupant looked at the house till his eyes watered. He was no longer a "public man;" his opinion of the weather was now of no importance; he might henceforth loiter over his dinner undisturbed by any thought of the shop! Feelings such as these could not be suppressed, and Tweasle was about to apostrophise, when his gentle partner startled him by exclaiming,

"Thank our stars, we're off at last!" and, catching a glimpse of the house as the coach turned into Hatton-garden, she added, "there's the last of it, I hope; I never wish to set eyes on the hole again!"

"Don't be ungrateful," said Tweasle, chidingly. "That roof has sheltered me near forty years."

"Well, it was a nuisance to live in it,--no place to dry a rag in but the servant's bed-room."

"And Martha made you give her rum and water, mother, or else she _would_ catch cold," added the son.

"Stop there!--stop there!--stop!" a voice was heard to cry.

"That can't be for us," observed Mrs. Tweasle.

As if in the spirit of matrimonial contradiction, her husband the next moment exclaimed, "By George! it is though!"

It proved to be a debtor, who had journeyed to London in consequence of some information which had been afforded him by an attorney. Three hundred and odd pounds were in his pocket ready for disbursement, if Mr. Tweasle would accompany him to an inn in the Borough, and there go through the account This was vexatious. The _fear_ of losing the money had long disturbed the late tobacconist's mental monotony, and now the _certainty_ of its payment absolutely angered him. He turned to his lady, and said to her in a voice of positive wrath,

"Hanney, I shall go. Don't you wait for me, do you hear? I shall walk probably in the evening down to Hornsey,--when I've given a receipt for the money. Now, sir, I'm at your service. Will you show the way?"

"Please to remember a poor fellow who wants works," said a florid muscular mendicant, thrusting his huge hand close to the late tobacconist's face.--"The fellow must have overheard the arrangement," thought Tweasle; and an undefined feeling of alarm took the roses from his cheeks. As he hastily threw the man a few pence, he delivered some very profound remarks upon the Vagrant Act.

"Hanney, dear," cried he in a loud voice, while the beggar was stooping for the money, "don't make yourself uneasy, but set the steel-traps. I have pistols,--mind that, love,--I have pistols!" for, afraid to acknowledge his own terror, he found relief in supposing that others were more timid than himself.

Leaving his wife, Tweasle walked to the inn, where he remained till all the items of a long bill had been discussed, when the clock announced the hour of nine, and then the debtor insisted on being asked to supper, so that it was fairly half-past ten before Tweasle left the Borough.

So long as the lights of London illumined his way, he proceeded in comparative composure, only occasionally feeling at his coat-pockets to assure himself that the pistols were safe; but when the unaided darkness announced that he had quitted the extremest outskirts of the metropolis, Mr. Tweasle paused, and audibly informed himself that "he was not afraid:" on receiving which information, he buttoned his coat closer, slapped his hat firmer on his cranium, frowned, and shook his head; and, endeavouring to act bravery, took a pistol in either hand as he marched onward with every symptom of excessive alarm.

He had not more than two miles farther to proceed, when the distant notes of St. Paul's cathedral announced the hour of midnight. At this time Tweasle was creeping along a lane rendered gloomy by high and parallel hedges, which inclosed fruitful pastures, and prevented grazing cattle from being impounded; at a little distance from him, behind one of these "leafy screens," stood a "pensive brother,"--a fine he-ass, which had retired thither to nibble the tender shoots of the mellifluous hawthorn.

As the last vibration died away, he stumbled into a cart-rut. On recovering his perpendicular, panting from the unnecessary exertion he had used, the poor traveller stared around him, and endeavoured to survey the place whereon he was standing. It was a gloomy spot,--one unrelieved mass of shade, in which the clouded heavens seemed to harmonize; everything was in awful repose,--the night was cold, but not a zephyr was abroad. Painfully oppressed by the utter loneliness of his position, a sense of extreme lassitude gradually crept over Tweasle,--he closed his eyes, and shuddered violently; he could have wept, but the fear of being afraid made him suppress the desire.

"This is a dreadful place!" he said aloud, with much gravity; "just such a spot as a murder might be committed in. I'm very glad I'm armed."

Scarcely had he uttered the words, when the donkey thrust forward his "pensive nose," and shook the hedge by pulling at a switch of more than common luxuriance. "I'll sell my life dearly!" was Tweasle's first sensation,--it could hardly be called idea, it was too confused,--as, preparing for attack, he instinctively clapped one hand upon his money, while with the other he presented a pistol towards the spot whence the noise proceeded. Not being, as he expected, immediately assaulted, he by a violent exertion of his mental powers so far mastered his bodily alarm as to gulp first and then breathe. He listened,--all was still. "They didn't know I was armed," thought Tweasle; "it was lucky I showed them my determination:" and, in something bordering upon confidence in the effects of his own courage, he ventured to whisper "Who's there?" when, receiving no answer, he increased his demand to "Who's there, _I say_?" in a somewhat louder voice. He was anxiously waiting the result of this boldness on his part when the animal, probably attracted by the sound, slowly moved towards the spot where Tweasle was standing. "Ah! come--d--n--don't--now--I--I'm armed, you know!" screamed the traveller, running about and wildly striking right and left with the pistol, confident that the action this time had positively commenced; but after some interval, becoming gradually convinced that he remained unhurt, he was quite satisfied that nothing but the extraordinary courage he had displayed could have saved him from this second desperate attempt upon his life; and, somewhat anxious to support the first dawn of his heroism, he said, or rather stammered, in a voice not always distinct, "Now--now,--whoever you are,--don't go too far, because it's no pleasure to me to shoot you;--but I will, if you do:--so, in the King's name, who are you?--I _must_ fire if you won't speak!"

The last appeal was made more in the tone of entreaty than command, for Tweasle beheld a black mass thrust itself against the hedge, evidently inspecting him. A rush of confused ideas, a tumult of strange suspicions and surmises, a "_regular row_" of contending emotions, deprived him of all self-control; and, if the pistol had not just at that moment accidentally exploded, he had probably fallen to the ground. As it was, the noise revived him; and, taking advantage of the circumstance, with a ready conceit he cried out "_There!_" for he had seen the object disappear, and heard a faint cry as of one in agony,--whereon he walked from the place with every appearance of impertinent composure.

But this simulation did not long continue. As he became more conscious, he grew more agitated: he had probably shot a robber. For this he felt no remorse, and was persuading himself he would repeat the act, when he discovered that he had lost his pistols. This discovery gave him a fearful shock,--he was unarmed! Now came another dread.--Was the miscreant he had killed alone? or had he companions? Did not robbers usually congregate in bands; and might he not be pursued? But Tweasle was adopting the very best mode of avoiding such a danger, as, long before he asked himself the question, his walk had quickened into a sort of hand-gallop, which this fresh terror increased to the wild speed of utter despair. Without slackening his pace, the affrighted man had nearly reached his home, when a sharp blow across the shins brought him to the ground, and, looking up, Tweasle perceived the mendicant of the afternoon, and two other suspicious-looking fellows standing over him. He could not speak; but, turning his face downwards, stretched himself upon the earth.

"_Are you going to sleep there?_" inquired the beggar with a kick that was violently anti-soporific; and, seeing that Tweasle naturally writhed under the infliction, the fellow vociferated, "Come, that didn't hurt you. It's no use shamming here."

"I shan't wait about, all night for him," cried a diminutive gentleman disguised in a coalheaver's hat worn jockey-fashion, who, seizing Tweasle by the collar, lifted him from the ground, and giving him a shake that was sufficient to render any human nerves unsteady for eternity, asked the tottering man in a voice of angry expostulation, "Why the devil he couldn't stand still?"

Too terrified to offer the slightest opposition, the unhappy Tweasle endeavoured to obey, which spirit of accommodation was repaid by the most scrupulous attentions. With a delicate dexterity that scarcely acquainted the owner of the abstraction, everything that his pockets contained was removed without unnecessary delay; and Tweasle was beginning to hope that the robbers would be content with their booty, when one of the fellows, anxious to have his clothes also, told him in the slang phraseology to undress, by shouting,

"Come, skin yourself."

"Skin _myself_!" cried Tweasle, understanding the words literally, and bounding from the place in horror of what appeared to him a refinement on even fictitious barbarity. "Skin _myself_!--You can't mean it. I couldn't do it, if you'd give me the world.--It's impossible!--Oh, heavens!"

"No flash,--it won't do,--you'll undress," said the taller of the three with a calmness that thrilled his auditor.

"Oh! good gentlemen," continued Tweasle, wishing to touch their hearts by saying something pathetic, "do consider I'm a married man!--think of my poor wife!--think of my poor wife!"

"Carry her that 'ere with my compliments," cried the beggar, dashing his fist into Tweasle's face; an act which was received by the rest as an excellent joke.

"It will do you no good to ill-use a fellow-creature," replied Tweasle distinctly, as though the blow had refreshed him. "Don't think I shall resist; take what you please; only, as you are a man--in human form--in this world and in the next----"

"Sugar me! You're just agoing it nicely!" interrupted the mendicant. "I'm blowed if we pads don't teach more vartey than a bench of bishops. Never in all my born life _borrowed on a friend_ that the beggar didn't funk pious and grunt gospel."

"But it is a natural impossibility for any man to skin himself."

"We'll do it for you, if you don't begin."

"Oh my heart! No!--Think of something else;--I'm willing to do anything but that."

"Stow that! Skin yourself,--shake them rags off your ugly pig of a body;--undress, and be d--d to you!"

Mr. Tweasle, who from this last speech gathered enough to remove his more horrible misgivings, delicately hinted at the inappropriateness of the place for such a purpose, the coolness of the night, the dislike he had to spectators at his toilet, and other things objectionable, but without effect: his opposition only confirmed the robbers' resolution, till a smart blow on the left cheek showed that they were inclined to silence, if they could not convince him.

Reluctantly the old man began to unrobe, parting with his garments one by one, and begging as a favour he might be allowed to retain only his waistcoat, on the worthlessness of which he expatiated till he convinced the plunderers it was of more value than its outside promised, as proved to be the case, notes to the amount of several hundreds being found pinned to the lining. They made many mock apologies for depriving him of this; sarcastically complimenting him for his modesty, which easily parted with other coverings, but blushed to expose his bosom: then, kicking him till he fell to the earth, there they left him.

Mrs. Tweasle reached the Italian villa as it was getting dusk, and the family sat up till midnight expecting Mr. Tweasle's arrival. As the hours advanced, the lady became alarmed, and sent Charles with a tumbler of rum and water into the kitchen, who, on his return, announced that Martha had declined the kitchen chair in favour of John's knee. "Never mind," cried the lady, made considerate by her fears; "such things are thought nothing of in the country." Whereupon she proceeded, with a strange concatenation of ideas, to state her opinion of second marriages; lamented that widows' caps were so difficult to get up; drank a little more rum and water; endeavoured to divert her mind with the Newgate Calendar, but could not enjoy it for thinking how cruel it was of Mr. Tweasle not to come home earlier, and openly protested against sleeping alone in a strange house; then took upon herself, in Mr. Tweasle's absence, to read prayers and lock up for the night. The signal for retiring being given, each took a candlestick; but, before they separated, the mistress entreated all of them to be very watchful in their sleep for fear of robbers, as she was certain Mr. Tweasle would not be home that night, and did not know what his absence might bring about.