Mr. Mortimer commissioned the legal gentleman, in a twinkling, to make the purchase; for he was decided: he declared he was. So Mr. Mortimer gave the gentleman his card; and the "solicitor" (who swore, when he discovered that he had "lost his card-case") gave Mr. Mortimer his address; and as the packet was at Westminster Stairs by this time, Mr. Mortimer got out, and bade "good day," with a grateful smile, to the "solicitor," who remained in the boat to land at London Bridge, for the city.
Mr. Mortimer dined very heartily, and in most speechless silence; for he was exceedingly full of thought, and exceedingly pleased with his good-fortune. Every thing had fallen out so exceedingly, so wonderfully lucky. The advice of the legal gentleman was so intelligent,—so sensible,—so deeply distinguished by common sense, which Dean Swift (Mr. Mortimer remembered) always said was of more value than all other kinds of sense put together. In fact, the man he (Mr. Mortimer) could clearly see was "up to snuff," and knew all about the mysteries of government influence, and where it lay, and what the county produced; and—every thing! But to complete his good fortune, to put the crowning mark upon it, this very man knew where type and a machine-press was to be had for a mere trifle! so that he (Mr. Mortimer) had nothing to do but to write out an advertisement for the Chronicle; and he would write it out that very afternoon, and take it to the office himself; and to-morrow morning, within three hours of the paper being published, no doubt, half-a-score literary men would be at the door, as corrivals and competitors for the new editorship.
Thus was Mr. Mortimer ruminating over his third glass of claret, when the servant's announcement that Mr. ——had called,—the very legal gentleman whom Mr. Mortimer left at Westminster Stairs but two hours before,—caused him to open his eyes very wide, and ask the gentleman's name again. The gentleman was introduced, however, and, with a world of apologies, but another world of assurances that it resulted from his zeal to serve Mr. Mortimer, regretted that he should have intruded at such a time; but he had bought the machine-press and the type, for he had run upon his friend in Cheapside before he reached his own residence, and snapped up the whole thing before any one else found it, and it was now actually at the door!
"At the door!" cried Mr. Mortimer,—"what door?"
"My dear sir," answered the legal gentleman, with singular suavity, "I regret exceedingly, as I have just observed, that I should have intruded at this particular time; but I knew the highly important object,—the national object, as I may say,—that you had fixed your mind upon—admitted of no delay, and so I went to work instanter. To a gentleman who is rather unused to these things——"
Mr. Mortimer confessed he was unused to these things, and felt that he ought to feel grateful, exceedingly grateful, to the gentleman.
The gentleman begged there might be no apology.—But Mr. Mortimer really felt he ought to apologise.—Yet the gentleman most particularly begged there might be no apology; and—there was the little bill!—and—where would Mr. Mortimer have the goods put, since they were in a van—the very first thing, in the shape of a conveyance, that the gentleman could see when he had bargained for the type and the machine-press—in a van, at the door!
The bill was something more than one hundred pounds, and—and—Mr. Mortimer was staggered, for he had not calculated on half the sum; but, what could he say? It would be so disrespectful, so ungrateful, so ungentlemanlike, to demur to the price or the purchase; so Mr. Mortimer thanked the gentleman "most heartily:" he was under very deep obligations to him: it was what he ought not to expect from a mere stranger: he would retain a most grateful sense of the gentleman's kindness. And he begged the gentleman would be seated; and would the gentleman take claret, or did he prefer Burgundy?
The gentleman reminded Mr. Mortimer that the van was at the door, and it was necessary to say what was to be done with the goods. He (the "legal gentleman") had an unoccupied office just now on his hands, and it was at Mr. Mortimer's service if——
An English thought shot across Mr. Mortimer's mind, and he rang the bell, and summoned his landlady. "Did she know of any upholsterer, or other tradesman in the neighbourhood, who could take care of a little furniture that was in the van at the door?" The landlady replied that she did, and Mr. Mortimer begged she would see it taken care of, in her own name.