A DISTINGUISHED TRAVELLER.
Lady Cramly was, or rather had been during her husband's lifetime, the authoress of a solitary work, upon the memory of which she still lived and revelled. She had published two volumes of travels. In some of the countries which she described she really had been, but in others certainly not; but wherever the scene was laid, Lady Cramly and Seraphine were at the top of the tree. Princes were proud to hand them to their carriage—crowned heads opened their palaces to receive them—Lady Cramly received medals, orders, and decorations, which never before had been conferred upon females. Seraphine—with a pug nose, low forehead, and high shoulders—had been painted by all the first artists, and modelled by all the first sculptors on the Continent. The book of travels had gone through eleven editions—Mr. Liberal, the eminent publisher, had made six thousand pounds by it, and would have made more, only that he had foolishly insisted, out of respect to the character of her particular friend the Pope, upon expunging the authoress's account of her having waltzed with his Holiness at a masquerade during the carnival, to which he went only to have the pleasure of being her partner. Upon this circumstance, and her having been made a Burgher (or rather Burgheress) at Bruges (the only instance of the honour ever having been bestowed upon a lady), she not unfrequently descanted, and so often had she told the histories amongst others, that all who heard them, including Seraphine herself, felt certain, that if nobody else believed them, Lady Cramly did.
It was of Lady Cramly the wag said that her authority ought never to be doubted, for she must always be re-lied upon. Nevertheless, her poetical prose was very amusing, and upon Waller's principle (we presume) she was certainly an extremely eloquent and entertaining companion.
DALY'S PRACTICAL JOKES[65]
Among the group was a man whose name was Daly—who, of all the people accounted sane and permitted to range the world keeperless, I hold to have been the most decidedly mad. His conversation was full of droll conceits, mixed with a considerable degree of superior talent, and the strongest evidence of general acquirements and accomplishments. He appeared to be on terms of familiar intimacy with all the members of our little community, and, by his observations and anecdotes, equally well known to persons of much higher consideration; but his description of himself to me, shortly after our introduction, savoured so very strongly of insanity—peculiar in its character, I admit—that I almost repented having, previously to hearing his autobiography, consented to send on my horses to Teddington, in order to accompany him to that village after the departure of the rest of the party to London, in a boat in which he proposed to row himself up to Hampton Court, where, it appeared, he had, a few days before, fixed his temporary residence.
"I hope," said he, "that we shall be better acquainted. I daresay you think me an odd fish—I know I am one. My father, who is no more, was a most respectable man in his way—a sugar-baker in St. Mary Axe. I was destined to follow in his wake and succeed to the business; however, I cut the treacle tubs at an early age—I saw no fun in firkins, and could not manage conviviality in canvas sleeves. D'ye ever read the London Gazette?"
"Sometimes," said I.
"In that interesting paper," said Daly, "I used to look twice a week to see the price of Muscovados. One hapless Saturday I saw my father's name along with the crush: the affair was done—settled; dad went through the usual ceremony, and came out of Guildhall as white as one of his own superfine lumps. Refreshed by his ruin, my exemplary parent soon afterwards bought a house in Berkeley Square, stood a contest for a county, and died rather richer than he started."
"And you, I suppose, his heir?" said I.
"He had not much to leave," replied my new friend. "He ran it rather fine towards the close of his career. My two sisters got their fortunes paid, but I came off with what we technically called the scrapings—four hundred a year, sir, is the whole of my income; all my personal property I carry under my hat. Timber I have none—save my walking-stick; and as to land, except the mould in three geranium pots, which stand in my sitting-room window, I haven't an inch. Still, Mr. Gurney, although I have not a ducat in my purse,
'Yet I'm in love, and pleased with ruin.'"
"I envy your philosophy and spirits," said I.
"You are right," replied Daly; "fun is to me what ale was to Boniface; I sleep upon fun—I drink for fun—I talk for fun—I live for fun; hence my addiction to our dear funny friends of to-day. They just suit me—they do nothing but laugh; they laugh with one when present, and at one when absent—but to me that is the fun."
I immediately thought of the "funny" observations upon myself, which I had overheard earlier in the day, pretty well assured that the voice of my new laughter-loving acquaintance had not been the least loud in the debate.
"I admit myself fond of practical joking," continued my friend. "I don't mean in one's own particular circle—there it is dangerous; people are not always in the same humour—what they think uncommonly good fun one day, they will seriously resent as an insult the next. There's no judging with certainty a man's temper of mind, and it is not easy to ascertain how much melted butter a gentleman would like to have poured into his coat-pocket without kicking; I avoid that sort of thing, but on the great scale I confess my addiction. Coming here yesterday evening, I stopped the chaise at the corner of Egham, to turn the finger-post at the corner half round—sent all the people bound for London to Chertsey, all the people destined for Egham to Windsor, and all the people destined for Windsor to London—that's my way."
"Probably," said I, "but not theirs. And do you often indulge yourself in these freaks?"
"Perpetually," replied Daly; "I've whipped off every knocker in Sloane-street three nights running—a hundred and ninety-four, exclusive of shops; and if ever the project of lighting London with smoke should be brought to bear, I flatter myself you will hear of my darkening the whole parish of Pancras, by grinding a gimblet through a gas-pipe."
"These frolics must cost something," said I.
"Occasionally," said my friend; "but what of that? Every man has his pursuits—I have mine."
"I should think," replied I, "if you perform such tricks often, your pursuits must be innumerable."
"What!" exclaimed Daly; "pursuits after me, you mean? I'm obliged to you for that—I see we shall be better acquainted—of that I am now quite certain. One thing I must tell you of myself, because, although there is something equivocal in the outset of the adventure, I set it all to rights afterwards, and will prove to you that in fact all I did was done for fun—pure fun."
I foresaw an awkward discovery of some sort by the prefatory deprecation of criticism; however, I listened to my slight acquaintance with complacency and confidence.
"You must know," said Daly, "that I once had a brother,—long since dead,—and you must know that he was my elder brother, and he went abroad; I remained at home, and was my father's darling—he fancied nothing on earth was like me. I was the wittiest, if not the wisest fellow breathing; and I have seen my respectable parent shake his fat sides with laughing at my jokes and antics, till the tears ran down his rosy cheeks. Nevertheless I had a fault,—I cannot distinctly aver that I have even yet overcome it,—I was extravagant—extravagant in everything—extravagant in mirth—extravagant in love—extravagant in money-matters. After my respected parent's death, I lodged at an upholsterer's—excellent man!—occupied his first floor—but paid him no rent; on the contrary, borrowed money of him."
"Indeed!" said I, "I——"
"Don't frown, Mr. Gurney," interrupted Daly, "you will find that it comes all right in the end. I'm as honest as a Parsee—don't be alarmed—I was then much younger than I am now; and, although the world unjustly, ungenerously, and invariably judge a man's character in after life by the foibles of his youth, don't be prejudiced, but hear me. I borrowed money of him—I consulted him upon all occasions—he was delighted with me, I with him—reciprocity of feeling, you know, and all that sort of thing. My upholsterer was my cabinet-minister—who better? who fitter to be consulted when any new measure was on the tapis? So things went on for a year, at the end of which, I owed him fourteen hundred and seventy-two pounds, thirteen shillings, and ninepence halfpenny, without the interest."
"That was no joke, Mr. Daly," said I.
"No; but what followed was," continued my equivocal friend. "My cabinet-minister applied for funds—I had none on hand. I therefore quitted London, and retired to the blest shades of Holyrood—not that this sort of constraint was at all necessary, for my friend, the sofa-maker, never troubled himself to inquire after me."
"Why, then, did you go?" said I.
"Why, you see I thought he might," replied Daly. "After I had hovered about Scotland, seen the sights, visited the Highlands, shot some grouse,—and a pretty job I made of that, umph!—I returned to Edinburgh, and began to be anxious to get back to London. I therefore took the resolution of killing myself forthwith."
"Horrible!" said I.
"Most horrible!" replied he; "nevertheless, I put that resolve into immediate execution."
"How?" I inquired.
"By transmitting an account of my death to the metropolitan newspapers in these words—'Died, at Antigua, on the 15th March, in the 28th year of his age, Robert Fergusson Daly, Esq., son of the late Thomas Fergusson Daly, Esq., of St. Mary Axe, London.'"
"What earthly purpose could that have answered?"
"You shall hear," said Daly. "About ten days after this announcement, having 'incurred' for a suit of mourning, I proceeded to my friend the upholsterer. Dear man, I recollect his little white bald head peering over his desk in the counting-house as well as if it were but yesterday—in I went—made a bow—up jumped my creditor.
"'Ah, Mr. Daly,' cried he, 'then what I have read in the newspaper is not true!—you are alive and merry.'
"Upon which I, looking as grave as a judge, said with a long-drawn sigh, 'Sir, I see you have fallen into the common mistake.'
"'Mistake, sir,' said he, 'no mistake in the world! Why, I read in the newspapers that you were dead. How those fellows do fib!'
"'In this instance,' I replied, 'they are as true as the tides to the moon—or the needle to the Pole.'
"'Why,' cried he, 'you are not dead, for here you are!'
"'So I am,' said I; 'but I am not the Mr. Daly who died in Antigua.'
"'That's very clear,' said the old cabinet-maker; 'for, as I said before, here you are.'
"'Still,' said I, 'sir,'—I thought the sir good—'you do not understand: I am the brother—the twin brother of poor Bob Daly who lived here with you, and who has died, as I unfortunately know, deep in your debt.'
"'What!' exclaimed the upholsterer, 'you his brother! Impossible—ridiculous! Why, I should know you from a thousand by that little knob on your nose.'
"'That may be, sir,' said I; 'but I was born with a knob on my nose as well as my brother. I assure you he is in his grave at Antigua.'
"This astounded him, and he was proceeding to ring the bell in order to call up the housemaid, who had made herself particularly familiar with my knob, in order to identify me, when I pacified him by fresh assurances that he was mistaken, and that I was come to settle the account due from my late brother to himself."
"This," said I, "was all very funny, no doubt; but cui bono?"
"Nous verrons," said Daly. "The moment I talked of paying, all doubt ended; he felt convinced that it could not be me; for he was quite of opinion that at that time I had no notion of muddling away my income in paying bills. So he listened, looking all the while at my knob—you see the thing I mean, Mr. Gurney," said Daly, pointing to a pimple; "till at last I begged to see his account—he produced it—I sighed—so did he.
"'Sir,' said he, 'this is—dear me, is it possible two people should be so much alike?—your brother's last account before he went.'
"I could not help saying, 'He is gone to his last account now, sir.' If it had been to save my life, I could never check my fun.
"'Lord, how like Mr. Robert that is!' said the upholsterer.
"'What is the amount?' said I.
"'Fourteen hundred and seventy-two pounds, thirteen shillings, and ninepence halfpenny. As for interest, Mr. Daly, I don't want it.'
"'Sir,' said I, drawing out of my pocket a handkerchief whiter than unsunned snow, 'I honour and reverence you. I can now account for the high respect and veneration with which my poor brother Bob used to speak of you and write about you. You shall judge what he has done;—he has died worth three thousand five hundred pounds; the claims upon him are numerous and heavy; in his letter, the last I ever received from him, he directs me to make an equitable division of his property.'
"'Poor fellow!' said the cabinet-maker.
"'An innocent young creature, with three children,' said I, 'first claims his care.'
"'Dear me!' said the man. 'Rely upon it I won't interfere there. No, no. I gave him credit further than he asked it. I won't visit his sins upon those who, perhaps, are helpless, and certainly blameless in this affair.'
"There was something so kind in this, that I was near betraying myself; but I should have spoiled the joke.
"'After those,' continued I, 'you come next; and, having divided his assets fairly, he decided that he could, acting conscientiously towards others, afford to pay you five shillings in the pound upon the amount due; and, accordingly, I have brought you to-day a sum calculated at that rate—that is to say, three hundred and sixty-eight pounds, thirteen shillings and sixpence, for I don't descend to fractions.'
"'Well, now,' said the honest old man, 'I love and honour him for that. He needn't have paid me a farthing. I knew not where he was;—and to think of me on his death-bed!—that, sir, shows good principle; and as you are so like him in everything else,—and how like him you are, to be sure!—I hope and trust—don't be angry, sir—that you will follow the example he has set you in the last act of his life.'
"'Then,' said I, 'you accept the proposal?'
"'Most happily, sir,' said he. 'I tell you I honour his feelings. I had given the whole thing up as lost: I thought he was a hard-hearted and a practised taker-in of credulous men——'
"'Sir,' said I, bowing, 'you little knew my poor brother Bob if you thought that. Here, sir, is the money; all I ask, as a satisfaction to the interesting young creature who survives him, is a receipt in full of all demands as against him.'
"'In course, Mr. Daly,' said the upholsterer, taking the notes I proffered. 'Why, la!' exclaimed he, 'I declare you have got the very ring on, that I have seen a hundred times, with a leetel patent key twisted into the inside, that he used to wear.'
"'Yes,' said I, rather taken aback at this; for with all my cunning I had forgotten to disring my finger for the occasion. 'Yes, it was the only thing he left me; and I wear it for his sake.'
"'And how well it fits!' said the cabinet-maker.
"'Often the case with twins,' said I. 'There are two hundred, three hundred, and fifty, a ten pound note, eight guineas, and five shillings and sixpence; count it yourself.
"'And now,' said he, 'I am to give you a receipt in full; to be sure I will. But I do wish you would do me one favour, sir,' continued he; 'I wish you would let my housemaid Becky see you; she was very fond of your poor brother, and very attentive to him, and I should—I know it is taking a great liberty—I should like her to see you.'
"'I should be too happy,' said I, trembling at the apprehension that the girl, who was more than usually civil to me while I lived in the lodgings, should make her appearance, convinced that she would not be deceived as to the identity, or believe in the story of two brothers having the same knobs on their noses; 'but don't you think it might shock the poor young woman?'
"'No, no, sir,' said he, looking over a black leather book for a proper stamp; 'Becky isn't frightened at trifles; shall I ring?'
"I could not help myself, and Becky was summoned. Luckily, however, she had just stepped out to get something, and satisfied, by the way in which the other servant conveyed the intelligence to her master, that it was not very probable she would soon return, I screwed my courage to the sticking-place, and remained until he had written, signed, and delivered my entire acquittance from my whole debt, in consideration of the receipt of three hundred and sixty-eight pounds thirteen shillings and sixpence; having secured which, I made my bow and left my upholsterer, not ill pleased with the adventure of the day."
"Yes, sir," said I, after I had heard this narrative, "but I see no joke in all this: it appears to me that a person less favourably disposed than myself would find a very different name for such a proceeding."
"So would anybody," said my valuable friend, "if it were not for the sequel. A short time after, I had the means to set all right, and lost no time in doing so; I confessed my ruse to my worthy friend, made him laugh heartily at his own credulity, paid him the difference, and gave Becky a guinea or two."
I honestly confess, that although my new friend polished off the end of his story with a few retributive facts, the account of his adventure with the cabinet-maker did not very much elevate him in my opinion, and I began again to repent of having hastily engaged myself as a passenger in his boat, so appropriately, as he himself said, called a "funny." The only consolation I could afford myself arose from the consideration that our connection would not be of long duration—that it need never be renewed—that few people, if any, would see me in my way up the river—and that, from all I had heard of him from himself, he did not appear likely to die a watery death, so that my personal safety was rather guaranteed than not, by my having placed myself under his command in our aquatic excursion.
I had never seen such a man before, nor have I ever seen such a one since: from the time he sat down to dinner till all was done, his tongue never ceased—he was au-fait at everything—played billiards better than anybody I ever saw—jumped higher—imitated birds and beasts, including men, women, and children, more correctly—caught more fish in an hour than all the rest of the punters did in three—sang all sorts of songs—made speeches—and told stories of himself which would have made my poor mother's hair stand on end. One of his practical jokes, played off upon one of the ladies of our party, I must set down. She had never been at Richmond before, or if she had, knew none of the little peculiarities attached to it. He desired the waiter to bring some "maids of honour"—those cheesecakes for which the place has been time out of mind so celebrated. The lady stared and then laughed; Daly saw her surprise, and elicited all he wanted—her innocent question of, "What do you mean by maids of honour?" "Dear me," said he, "don't you know that this is so courtly a place, and so completely under the influence of state etiquette, that everything in Richmond is called after the functionaries of the palace? What are called cheesecakes elsewhere, are here called maids of honour; a capon is a lord-chamberlain; a goose, a lord-steward; a roast pig is a master of the horse; a pair of ducks, grooms of the bedchamber; and a gooseberry tart, a gentleman usher of the black rod; and so on."
The unsophisticated lady was taken in; and with all the confidence which Daly's gravity inspired, when she actually saw the maids of honour make their appearance in the shape of cheesecakes, convulsed the whole party, by turning to the waiter and desiring him, in a sweet but decided tone, to bring her a gentleman usher of the black rod, if they had one in the house quite cold.
These were the sort of plaisanteries (mauvaises, if you will) in which this most extraordinary person indulged. In the sequel, I had occasion to see his versatile powers more profitably engaged, and which led me to reflect somewhat more seriously upon the adventure of the upholsterer and the receipt in full of all demands.
The dinner was rather inconveniently despatched, in order to suit the convenience of the engaged performers, and by seven o'clock my new friend and myself were left to commence our voyage up the river. His spirits appeared even higher than they had been before, and I felt myself, when consigned to his care, something in the same situation as Mr. O'Rourke on the eagle's back: whither I was to be carried by his influence, or how to be dashed down when he got tired of me I could not clearly comprehend; nor were my apprehension of consequences in any satisfactory degree diminished when my perilous companion commenced a violent wordy attack upon a very respectable round-bodied gentleman who was sitting squeezed into the stern-sheets of a skiff, floating most agreeably to himself adown the stream, the gentle south-west breeze giving the sail of his boat a shape very similar to that of his equally well-filled white dimity waistcoat.
"Hollo!" cried my friend Daly; "I say, you sir, what are you doing in that boat?"
The suburban Josh maintained a dignified silence.
"I say, you sir," continued the undaunted joker, "what are you doing there? you have no business in that boat, and you know it!"
A slight yaw of the skiff into the wind's eye was the only proof of the stout navigator's agitation.
Still Daly was inexorable, and he again called to the unhappy mariner to get out of the boat. "I tell you, my fat friend," cried he, "you have no business in that boat!"
Flesh and blood could not endure this reiterated declaration. The ire of the Cockney was roused. "No business in this boat, sir!" cried he, "what d'ye mean?"
"I mean what I say," said Daly; "you have no business in it, and I'll prove it."
"I think, sir, you will prove no such thing," said the navigator, whose progress through the water was none of the quickest; "perhaps you don't know, sir, that this is my own pleasure-boat?"
"That's it," said Daly, "now you have it—no man can have any business in a pleasure-boat. Good-day, sir. That's all."
I confess I was a good deal shocked at this mode of terminating the colloquy. However, no ill consequences arose; the fat man went his way, and so did we, and in a few minutes more embarked in Daly's "pleasure"-boat, in which I felt, according to his dictum, that I had no business whatever.
Richmond, which seems, every time one sees it, as if it were dressed to look lovely for that particular day, was smiling in all its radiance and gaiety; the velvet meadows of Twickenham, studded with noble trees, looked cooler and greener than ever; and my friend began to perform that incomprehensibly agreeable exercise of pulling up against the stream, when all at once a thought seemed to flash across his mind and a look of regret sadden his countenance; the expression was too distinct to be mistaken or disregarded.
"What," said I, "what is the matter? have you left anything behind?"
"No," said he, laughing; "but if I had thought of it, we would not have come away so soon from Richmond; and I would have shown you some sport in Cockney-catching."
"What do you mean?" asked innocent I.
"A trick specially my own," replied Daly, "to be played with the greatest success between the grounds of Sion and Kew Gardens. Thus:—In the dusk of the evening—I prescribe scientifically—take a strong line, fix him to a peg in the bank of Sion, carry him across the river, and fix him to another peg in the bank of Kew; strain him tight, and then retire to watch the effect. Tide running down, presently comes a Cockney couple, the man flirting and pulling, the lady sitting and smiling; when they reach the chosen spot, the tight line catches the Cockney Corydon on the back of his head, and tumbles him forward at the feet of his Phyllis; in a twinkling, the same effect is produced on the lady, with this single simple difference, that the cord catches her under the chin, and tumbles her backwards. In the confusion of the moment, tide ebbing fast, the happy pair are swept down the stream, and having, after the lapse of a few minutes, set themselves to rights again, begin to wonder what has happened, and of course never think of trying back against tide to ascertain the cause; which, however, if they did, would assist them little, for the moment you have caught your Cockneys, you cast off the line from the peg, and the cause of the mischief disappears from the sight—probatum est."
"That seems rather a serious joke," said I.
"Umph!" replied Daly; "perhaps you would prefer keeping the line, but for my part I am not particular."
This he certainly need not have mentioned. Every moment added fresh evidence to the fearful fact; I was yet unprepared for what was to come.
"I wish," said my friend, as he plied the oar, "that we had stayed a little longer at Richmond. I think one more bottle of claret, tête-à-tête, would have been vastly agreeable."
"I should not have disliked it myself," said I. "Is it impossible to repair the mischief?—is there no agreeable retreat on these shores, in which we may solace ourselves for our imprudence?"
"No," said my friend; "the Eel-pie House is a wretched hole—the inns at Twickenham are all inland—there is nothing marine short of the Toy, and we are to part long before I reach that much-loved spot."
"Then," said I, "we must make up our minds to the evil, and bear it as well as we can."
At this moment we were under the bank of a beautiful garden, upon which opened a spacious bow-windowed dinner-room, flanked by an extensive conservatory. Within the circle of the window was placed a table, whereon stood bottles and decanters, rising, as it were, from amidst a cornucopia of the choicest fruits. Around this table were seated a highly-respectable family; a portly gentleman, whose cheeks and chin gave ample evidence that such refections were "his custom always in the afternoon," and near him a lady, evidently his better, if not his larger half—on either side bloomed two young creatures, unquestionably the daughters of the well-fed pair. Our appearance, although the lawn was some twenty or thirty yards in depth, had caught their attention, as their respective forms and figures had attracted our notice.
"There," said I, "this scene is exhibited to us by our evil genius, to tantalize us with the prospect we may not enjoy."
"You are wrong," said Daly, "quite wrong—be quiet—beautiful girls, cool wine, and agreeable society, are worth making a dash for. Those girls will we become acquainted with—that society will we join—those wines will we imbibe."
"Do you know them?" said I.
"Never saw them by any chance in my life," said Daly; "but here goes—the thing is settled—arranged—done. Have you a pocket-book and a pencil about you? if you have, lend them to me; say nothing, and I will manage the rest. Assent to all I assert, and stay in the boat till we are invited to partake of the collation."
"But, my dear sir," said I.
"Mum," said Daly, at the same moment pulling the head of his funny 'chock block,' as the sailors say, into the bank of the garden, upon whose velvet surface he jumped with the activity of an opera dancer. I sat in amazement, doubting what he was about to do, and what I should do myself. The first thing I saw was my friend pacing in measured steps along the front of the terrace. He then affected to write down something in my book—then he stopped—raised his hand to his eyes, as if to make an horizon in order to obtain a level—then noted something more—and then began to pace the ground afresh.
"Bring the staff out of the boat," said he to me, with an air of command, which was so extremely well assumed, that I scarcely knew whether he were in joke or in earnest. I obeyed, and landed with the staff. Without any further ceremony, he stuck the pole into the lawn—a measure which, as he whispered to me, while in the act of taking it, he felt assured would bring things to a crisis.
Sure enough, after a certain ringing of the dinner-room bell, which we heard, and which conveyed to Daly's mind a conviction that he had created a sensation, a butler, bien poudre, in a blue coat, white waistcoat, and black et ceteras, followed at a properly-graduated distance by a strapping footman, in a blue-and-scarlet livery, were seen approaching. I thought the next step would be our sudden and unceremonious expulsion from the Eden he had trespassed upon—not so my friend, who continued pacing, and measuring, and "jotting down," until the minister for the home department was at his elbow.
"I beg your pardon, gentlemen," said the butler, "but—my master's compliments, begs to know what your pleasure here is—it is not usual for strangers to land—and——"
"Exactly like the man in the boat, sir," said Daly, "only quite the reverse. I am not here for pleasure—business calls me here—duty, sir—duty. Here, Mr. Higgins, carry the staff to that stump."
These words were addressed to me, and I, completely infatuated—fascinated, like the bird by the rattle-snake—did as I was told, not daring to rebel, lest a dénoûment might ensue, which would éclater in our being jointly and severally kicked into the river, in which case, from the very little, or rather the very great deal, which I had seen of my companion during our short acquaintance, I felt perfectly certain that I should sink, and he would swim; and that, while I was floundering in all the agonies of ignominy and disgrace, he would be capering and flourishing with the two pretty girls in the dining-room, laying all the blame of the affair upon my most incompetent shoulders, and cracking his jokes upon the tyro who had so blunderingly botched the business.
The butler, who found that he made very little impression upon Daly, seemed inclined to come at me, which, as I had not the slightest idea of the game my companion was playing, nor the faintest notion what he expected to be the result, alarmed me considerably. Daly was too much on the alert, however, to permit me to be cross-questioned.
"Sir," said he to the butler, "present my compliments to your master, and make my humble apologies for the liberty I am obliged to take. I am the acting deputy-assistant surveyor of the Grand Junction Paddington Canal Company, and an Act of Parliament is just about to be applied for, to construct and cut a branch from the basin at Brentford into the river Thames, near this point. A great deal depends upon my decision as to the line it will take, and I should not have ventured to land without apprising your master of my business, but that no time is to be lost, inasmuch as my plan for the cut must be ready for the committee to-morrow."
"Cut a canal through my master's grounds, sir?" said the butler.
"Right through," said Daly, poking the fore-finger of his right hand very nearly into the butler's left eye; "and what I am now so particular about is, I am most anxious that the line should not take down the corner of the conservatory."
"Dear me, sir," said the man, "my mistress would go mad at the very thought of such a thing. Will you just wait, sir, while I speak to Sir Timothy?"
"Certainly," said he; "and assure him—assure Sir Timothy—that I will do all I can to preserve the elevation of his mansion; for, as it all depends upon my opinion, I shall, of course, be extremely scrupulous how I decide."
"I am sure, sir," said the astounded and mollified butler, "Sir Timothy will be greatly obliged to you. I'll be back directly, sir."
Saying which, the butler returned to the house, and giving a significant look at the strapping footman, with the grenadier shoulders and balustrade legs, which seemed to imply that he need not kick us into the water till he had consulted his master, the fellow followed him, which afforded me an opportunity of asking my volatile friend what the deuce he was at.
"Leave me alone," said he,—
"'Women and wine compare so well,
They run in a perfect parallel.'
I am the company's acting deputy-assistant surveyor, and having surveyed this company, I mean to be made a participator in those good things of which they seem to be in full possession. Yes, Mr. Gurney, as King Arthur says—
'It is our royal will and pleasure to be drunk;
And this, our friend, shall be as drunk as we.'
Who knows but we may make an agreeable and permanent acquaintance with this interesting family?"
"But," said I, "you don't even know their name."
"You are in error," replied Daly; "the man's name is known to me."
"Then perhaps you are known to him," said I.
"That is a non sequitur," said Daly; "I knew nothing of him before I landed here—now I am au-fait—my friend in the powder and sticking-plasters calls his master Sir Timothy. There are hundreds of Sir Timothies; but what do I, upon hearing this little distinctive appellation, but glance my eye to the livery-button of the lacquey—and what do I see there? a serpent issuing from and piercing a garb or gerb. The crest is unique—ergo, my new acquaintance is neither more nor less than Sir Timothy Dod."
"Why," said I, "you are, like myself, a bit of a herald, too!"
"Exactly," replied Daly; "in my composition are
'Arts with arms contending;'
I am a bit of every thing; but somehow all my accomplishments are so jumbled, and each is so minute in itself, that they are patched together in my mind like the squares of a harlequin's jacket, only to make their master ridiculous. Here, however, comes Sir Timothy himself. You are my clerk—keep the staff and the joke up, and you shall be repaid with some of Tim's very best Lafitte, or I'm an ass."
"Good-day, sir," said Sir Timothy, somewhat warmed with the intelligence given him by the butler, and the exertion of trotting him across his lawn. "My servant tells me that you are here for the purpose of deciding upon the line of some new branch of the Paddington Canal;—it is very extraordinary I never should have heard of it!"
"You ought, Sir Timothy," said Daly, "to have been apprised of it. Do you understand much of ground-plans, Sir Timothy?"
"No, sir; very little indeed," replied the worthy knight.
"So much the better," I heard Daly distinctly say, for he could not resist an impulse. "If you will just cast your eye over this paper, I will endeavour to explain, sir. A, there you see;—A is your house, Sir Timothy; B is the conservatory; C is the river,—that perhaps you will think strange?"
"No, sir," said Sir Timothy, "not at all."
"Then, sir, D, E, F, and G are the points, from which I take the direct line from the bridge at Brentford; and thus you perceive, by continuing that line to the corner of Twickenham churchyard, where the embouchure is to be——"
"The what, sir?" said Sir Timothy.
"The mouth, sir,—the entrance to the new branch, the canal will clip your conservatory diagonally to the extent of about eighteen feet six inches, and leave it deprived of its original dimensions somewhat in the shape of a cocked-hat box. You see—so, sir,—H, I, K."
"I give you my honour, sir," said Sir Timothy, "such a thing would drive Lady Dod mad!"
"I admit it would be a dreadful cut," said Daly; "and then the noise of the bargemen and the barge-horses close under the windows,—clanking chains,—horrible oaths,—disgusting language——"
"My daughters' bed-rooms are at that end of the house," said Sir Timothy. "What am I to do, sir? What interest can I make? Are the magistrates—are the——"
"No, sir," said Daly, with a face of the most imperturbable gravity; "all that would be perfectly unavailing. The decision as to the line rests entirely with me; and, as I said to Mr. Higgins, my assistant,—Higgins," continued he, calling me to him, "let me present you to Sir Timothy Dod,—I said to Higgins, what a pity it would be to disturb the Dods,—what a cut at their comforts;—it goes against my heart to send in the plan, but the line is so decidedly the shortest. 'Ah, sir!' says Higgins to me, with a deep sigh, I assure you,—'but do consider the conservatory.'"
"I'm sure, sir," said Sir Timothy, extending his hand to me, "I feel very grateful for your kindness. It would indeed be a sad thing; and must the decision be made so soon?"
"Immediately, sir," said Daly; "but we are keeping you out here in the open air without your hat. I am afraid, sir, you may catch cold."
"Oh no, sir," said Sir Timothy; "don't mind that. Perhaps, gentlemen, you will do me the kindness to walk in. The servants shall take care of your boat. I will introduce you to Lady Dod, she must try what her influence can effect, and I am sure you have the disposition to serve us. Here, Philip, James, George, some of you, come and make this boat fast, and stay down by her while the gentlemen stop. Let me show you the way, gentlemen."
I never shall forget the look which Daly gave me as we followed the respectable knight to his lady and family,—the triumphant chuckle of his countenance, the daring laugh in his eyes; while I, who only saw in the success of the design the beginning of a signal defeat, scarce knew whether I was walking on my head or my heels: resistance or remonstrance was equally vain under the circumstances, and in a few minutes we found ourselves in the presence of Lady Dod and her daughters, breathing an atmosphere redolent with the fumes of the departed dinner, and the still remaining fruit and wine. I never was so abashed in my life. My friend, on the contrary, seemed perfectly at home; and, placing himself beside her ladyship, made a sign for me to occupy a vacant seat between the young ladies. Never did I see two more lovely girls.
The courtesy of Sir Timothy, the sweetness of my lady, and the constrained fun of the girls, were, I admit, when I recovered my composure in some degree, a good treat; while Daly, "helping himself and passing the bottle" to me, kept up a fire of conversation, which, if the senior Dods had known anything of the world, would have convinced them in ten minutes that the part of acting deputy-assistant measurer was an assumed one. It certainly was a sight to see the respectable lady of the house pleading the cause of her conservatory, and piling the choicest fruits upon the plate of the arbiter of her destinies, while Fanny's civilities to me were displayed with equal zeal and far superior grace. I would have given the world to have owned the truth; and I am sure, if we had done so, we should not have been the worse received; for, independently of the excellence of the joke and the impudence of the proceeding, the relief which would have been afforded to the minds of the whole Doddery would have ensured us their eternal favour and affection.
Daly having finished the claret, and taken a last "stopper over all" (as the sailors say) of sherry, gave me the signal for departure. I, too, gladly took the hint, and drew back my chair. Fanny looked as if she thought we were in a hurry; however, it was getting late, and my master had some distance to pull. We accordingly rose and prepared to take leave. I bowed my adieu to the girls, and shook hands with Fanny, at which I saw Augusta toss back her head and throw up her sparkling eyes, as much as to say, "Well, Fanny," meaning exactly the reverse. I bowed low to my Lady Dod, and Sir Timothy attended us to our boat. I stepped in; Daly was at the bow; Sir Timothy desired the man who had been left in charge of the funny to go away; and then I saw, with doubt and trepidation, the respectable dupe of Daly's consummate impudence shake him by the hand with a peculiarity of manner which particularly attracted my attention. I saw him in the execution of this manœuvre press upon his palm a bank-note, with a flourish in the corner like the top of a raspberry tartlet.
I never was more agitated. If Daly took this bribe for saving the corner of the conservatory, it was an act of swindling. The strawberries, grapes, and claret, were fit matters of joke, although I admit that it was carrying the joke a little too far; but money,—if he took that, I was resolved to avow the whole affair to Sir Timothy, show up my companion, and leave him to the fate he deserved. Judge my mingled delight and horror when I heard him say,——
"Sir! what I have done in your house or in your society to induce you to believe me capable of taking a bribe to compromise my duty, I really don't know. Mr. Higgins, I call you to witness that this person has had the insolence to put a fifty-pound bank-note into my hand. Witness, too, the manner in which I throw it back to him." Here he suited the word to the action. "Learn, old gentleman," continued he, with an anger so well feigned that I almost believed him in earnest, "that neither fifty nor fifty thousand pounds will warp an honest man from the duty he owes to his employers; and so, sir, good-night, and rely upon it, your conservatory goes,—rely upon it, Sir Timothy;—it comes in the right line, and the short line, and down it goes—and I feel it incumbent on me not only to tell the history of your petty bribe, but to prove my unimpeachable integrity by running the canal right under your dining-room windows; and so, sir, good-night."
Saying which he jumped into the boat, and, pulling away manfully, left his unfortunate victim in all the horrors of defeated corruption, and the certainty of the destruction of his most favourite object, for the preservation of which he had actually crammed his betrayers, and committed himself to a perfect stranger.