Memoirs of a griffin

by Francis John Bellew

The judge’s servants smiled, and exchanged significant glances, as my little jaded rat, with accoutrements calculated for a horse of sixteen hands high, was marched away. I confess, for the first time, I felt perfectly ashamed of him.

“Come in,” said the judge, “we will dine somewhat earlier on your account; but, in the meantime, as you must be fatigued, a glass of wine will refresh you. Qui hye? sherry-shrob lou. By-the-bye,” said he, recollecting himself, as we turned to enter the tent, “I had nearly forgotten to introduce you to a fellow-traveller. Ensign Gernon, the Rev. Mr. Arratoon Bagram Sarkies; Mr. Sarkies, Mr. Gernon.”

The little fat man smiled benignantly, as with a look betokening that my youth and deportment had made a pleasing impression upon him, he, in a manner half-Asiatic, tendered me his hand, as if he felt himself bound in duty to back the judge’s cordiality.

I was sorely puzzled to divine who this amiable little personage could be, and to what portion of the church universal his reverence belonged. Mr. Sympkin seemed, I thought, to enjoy my gaping looks of astonishment, but took an opportunity of informing me, very shortly afterwards, that Mr. Sarkies was an Armenian missionary, proceeding to Guzerat with a camel load of tracts, in divers Eastern languages, for the purpose of converting the natives.

At the same time that he gave me this information, he proposed, if agreeable to me, that we should keep each other company for the few marches during which our route would lie together. To this proposal I joyfully assented, for though the good missionary was not exactly the sort of companion I should have selected, had a choice been given me, nevertheless, an associate of any kind who could speak my own language was, under present circumstances, a great acquisition.

Dinner soon made its appearance in the tent, which was fitted up with carpets, glass shades, attached by clasps to the poles, and, in short, everything that could render it comfortable and luxurious, and make us forget that we were in the wilds of Hindostan.

The viands, which in excellence could not be surpassed by anything procurable, of their several kinds, at the most fashionable hotel or club-house at the west end of the town, were served in burnished silver. The wines and ales, of the most delicious kinds, were cooled à merveille, and we were waited upon by fine, proud-looking domestics, in rich liveries, who seemed fully sensible of the lustre they borrowed from their master’s importance; in short, I found myself all at once revelling in luxury, and was made to feel, though in the pleasantest possible way, the vastness of the gap which separates a griffin going to join from the judge of a zillah court.

Mr. Sarkies, too, though his occupation referred more immediately to the other world, seemed, like myself, by no means insensible to the comforts of this mundane state of existence, paying very marked attention to the mock-turtle, the roast saddle of mutton, maccaroni, and other “tiny kickshaws” that followed in abundance.

In spite, however, of this little trait of the “old man Adam,” the missionary appeared a most kind-hearted and benevolent creature; there was a childlike simplicity about him, evincing a total absence of all guile, which at once inspired a feeling of affection and regard, adding a proof, were it wanting, of the power of truthfulness and virtue, in whatever form it may appear. It was obvious, at a glance, that the Padre’s heart was overflowing with benevolence and love of his kind, and that no one harsh or unamiable feeling harboured there.

The judge, though evidently of a jovial and bantering turn, and not at all likely to turn missionary himself, seemed clearly to entertain a mingled feeling of respect and esteem for his single-hearted, but somewhat eccentric guest, who, I found, owed his introduction to him to a somewhat similar chance to that to which I was indebted for mine—a feeling that, in a great degree, restrained the inclination which, in a good-natured way, would every now and then peep out, to crack a joke at his expense.