I saw by Mary’s countenance that she was in earnest, and I therefore made friends with her, and we conversed for two hours, chiefly about Tom. When I left her she had recovered her usual spirits, and said at parting, looking archly at me, “Now, you will see how wise and prudent I shall be.”
I shook my head, and left her that I might find out (my) old friend Stapleton, who, as usual, was at the door of the public-house, smoking his pipe. At first he did not recognise me, for when I accosted him he put his open hand to his ear as usual, and desired me to speak a little louder, but I answered, “Nonsense, Stapleton, that won’t do with me.” He then took his pipe out of his mouth, and looked me full in the face.
“Jacob, as I’m alive! Didn’t know you in your long togs—thought you was a gentleman wanting a boat. Well, I hardly need say how glad I am to see you after so long; that’s no more than human natur’. And how’s Tom? Have you seen Mary?”
These two questions enabled me to introduce the subject that I wished. I told him of the attachment and troth pledged between the two, and how wrong it was for him to leave her so much alone. The old man agreed with me, and said, that as to talking to the men, that was on Mary’s part nothing but “human natur’”; and that as for Tom wishing to be at home and seeing her again, that also was nothing but “human natur’”; but that he would smoke his pipe at home in future, and keep the soldiers out of the house. Satisfied with this assurance I left him, and taking another wherry went up to Brentford to see the Dominie.
Chapter Forty One.
All the little boys are let loose, and the Dominie is caught—Anxious to supply my teeth, he falls in with other teeth, and Mrs Bately also shows her teeth—Gin outside, gin in, and gin out again, and old woman out also—Dominie in for it again—More like a Whig Ministry than a novel.
I found the worthy old Dominie in the school-room, seated at his elevated desk, the usher not present, and the boys making a din enough to have awaked a person from a trance. That he was in one of his deep reveries, and that the boys had taken advantage of it, was evident. “Mr Dobbs,” said I, walking close up to the desk, but the Dominie answered not. I repeated his name in a louder voice.
“Cosine of X plus AB minus Z minus a half; such must be the result,” said the Dominie talking to himself. “Yet it doth not prove correct. I may be in error. Let me revise my work,” and the Dominie lifted up his desk to take out another piece of paper. When the desk lid was raised, I removed his work and held it behind me.