“Then you are a dear, good soul,” I told her, warmly, for surely it was encouraging to know that I had one friend in a world of enemies.
I never enquired too deeply into the means that were adopted to procure the services of the celebrated Mr. Snark. How Mrs. Polly Emblem came to hear of him at all, or in what manner she contrived to coax him from his remote and modest lodging in the Ratcliffe Highway, from whence for years he had defied the whole of Bow Street to dislodge him, history hath not deponed unto this present. Yet from the moment the dear, devoted Mrs. Polly made that promise to me on that morning of culminating miseries, she never ceased to strive to make herself the equal of her resolution. Some hours later she came to me and said:
“I’ve just heard of the very man, your la’ship. He’s not a very religious man, your la’ship, but he’s an awful knowing one, they say.”
Thereupon she dispatched more than one emissary to scour the most questionable haunts in London for him, and every hour or so the honest creature brought me very excellent reports to restore me to a cheerful spirit.
“Mr. Anthony’s as good as delivered,” she would say in the most optimistic manner. “I am most positively certain of it, yes, I am! I’m told that this Mr. Snark’s a perfect wonder. They say he is as clever as the devil, only that he charges rather more. But I know it’s not money that you will begrudge him!”
“Rather not,” says I. “Let him but deliver my dearest Anthony, and I’ll give him my estate in Berkshire.”
I can well recall this celebrated person and the mode of his appearance. It was somewhat late in the evening of the sixteenth of the month that he came in great privacy to visit me. He was ushered into my boudoir and presented by the triumphant Mrs. Polly Emblem.
“This be the gentleman, your la’ship,” says she, whilst the gentleman in question ducked and grinned.
In the dimness of the lamp I could just discern a man, extraordinary small, drest with a plain respectability, and had a pair of eyes set very close, and small and hard and twinkling as chips of glass. And such was the peril of my state of mind, and so precarious was the deed with which I was about to charge him, that I was quite rejoiced when I saw that Mr. Snark had a face of the most finished and perfect villainy. Here was a man that I might trust instinctively with any crime.
At first I was uncertain as to the precise fashion of my address, because the affair demanded something of delicacy on the side of both. But in regard to talk it was plain that I must look for no assistance from my visitor, who appeared to be of the essence of discretion. Besides he was far too occupied in running his eyes about the room, apparently with the object of making a complete inventory of all the articles therein. At last I spoke: