Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 06

by Unknown

Still I say, gentlemen (continued the little man in the bright yellow waistcoat), there was luck in the caul; for, soon after, a distant relation of my mother’s, who had been long in the West Indies, and had there realized a large fortune, having come to England on some business, paid us a visit, and was so well pleased with the attention shown him, and with the society he got introduced to, that he spent the whole subsequent period of his temporary residence in this country with us. During this time, he became remarkably fond of me—so fond that he could never be without me. I was obliged to accompany him in all his walks, and even to sleep with him. In short, he became so attached to me, that it was evident to every one that some good would come out of it; for he was immensely rich, and had no family of his own, never having been married. Indeed, that I would be the better for the old boy’s love was not matter of conjecture, for he frequently hinted it very broadly. He would often take me on his knee, and, while fondling me, would say, in presence of my father and mother—“Well, my little fellow, who knows but you may ride in your carriage yet? As odd things have happened.” Then, “Would you like to be a rich man, Bobby?” he would inquire, looking archly at me. “If you continue as good a boy as you are just now, I’ll undertake to promise that you will.” In short, before leaving us, our wealthy friend, whose name was Jeremiah Hairsplitter, held out certain hopes to my parents of my being handsomely provided for in his will. This so affected us all, that we wept bitterly when the good old man left us to return to the West Indies; where, however, he told us, he now intended remaining only a short time, having made up his mind to come home and spend the remainder of his days with us.

Well, gentlemen (said the little hump-backed man in the bright yellow waistcoat), here was a very agreeable prospect, you’ll all allow; and it was one in which there appeared so much certainty, that it cost my father—who had been led to believe he should get a handsome slice too—many serious thoughts as to how we should dispose of the money—how lay it out to the best advantage. My father, who was a very pious man, determined, for one thing, to build a church; and, as to me and my fortune, he thought the best thing I could do, seeing, from my deformities, that I was not very well adapted for undergoing the fatigues of a professional life, was, when I should become a little older, to turn country gentleman; and with this idea he was himself so well pleased, that he began, thinking it best to take time by the forelock, to look around for a suitable seat for me when I should come of age and be ready to act on my own account; and he fortunately succeeded in finding one that seemed a very eligible investment. It was a very handsome country house, about the distance of three miles from where we lived, and to which there was attached an estate of 1000 acres of land, all in a high state of cultivation. The upset price of the whole—for the property was at that moment on sale—was £20,000; a dead bargain, as the lawyer who had the management of the property assured us. It was worth at least double the money, he said; and in this Mr. Longshanks, the land-measurer, whom my father also consulted on the subject, perfectly agreed; but was good enough to give my father a quiet hint to hold off a bit, and, as the proprietor was in great distress for money, he might probably get the estate for £18,000, or something, at any rate, considerably below the price named. Grateful for this hint, my father invited Mr. Longshanks to dine with him, and gave him a bottle of his best wine. Now, gentlemen, please to observe (said the little hunch-backed gentleman in the bright yellow waistcoat) that while we were thus treating about an estate worth £20,000, we had not a sixpence wherewith to buy it; so that Mr. Longshanks’ hint about holding off was rather a superfluous one. But then our prospects were good—nay, certain; there was, therefore, no harm—nay, it was proper and prudent to anticipate matters a little in the way we did; so that we might at once have the advantage of sufficient time to do things deliberately, and be prepared to make a good use of our fortune the moment we got possession of it.

That our prospects were excellent, I think you will all allow, gentlemen, when you take into account what I have already told regarding our worthy relative; but that they really were so, you will still more readily admit, when I tell you that we received many letters from Mr. Hairsplitter, after his arrival in Jamaica (for he now opened a regular correspondence with us), in all of which he continued not only to keep our hopes alive, as to the destination of his wealth, but to increase them; so that I—for the bulk of his fortune, there was no doubt, was intended for me—was already looked upon as a singularly lucky young dog; and of this opinion, in the most unqualified sense, and in a most especial manner, was my mother, my nurse, and the lady who ushered me into the world—all of whom exultingly referred to my caul, and to their own oft-expressed sentiments regarding the luck that was to befall me.

But, to return to my story. After a lapse of about two or three years, during which, as I have said, we received many letters from our worthy relative, one came, in which he informed us that it was the last we should have from him from Jamaica, as he had wound up all his affairs, and was about to leave the island, to return home and spend the remainder of his days with us, or in our immediate neighbourhood.

Well, gentlemen, you see matters were gradually approaching to a very delightful crisis; and we, as you may believe, saw it with no small satisfaction. We indulged in the most delicious dreams; indeed, our whole life was now one continued reverie of the most soothing and balmy kind. From this dreamy state, however, we were very soon awakened by the following paragraph in a newspaper, which my father accidentally stumbled on, one morning as we were at breakfast. It was headed “Dreadful Shipwreck,” and went on thus:—“It is with feelings of the most sincere regret we inform our readers, that the Isabella, from Jamaica to London, has foundered at sea, and every one on board perished, together with the whole of a most valuable cargo. Amongst the unfortunate passengers in this ill-fated vessel was a Mr. Jeremiah Hairsplitter, a well-known Jamaica planter, who was on his return, for good and all, to his native land. The whole of this gentleman’s wealth, which was enormous, will now go, it is said (he having died intestate), to a poor man in this neighbourhood [Liverpool], who is nearest of kin.”

Well, gentlemen (continued the little hump-backed man in the bright yellow waistcoat), here was a pretty finish to all our bright anticipations! For some time, indeed, we entertained hopes that the reports, especially the last, might be false; but, alas! they turned out too true. True, true were they, to the letter. My father, unwilling to believe that all was lost, called upon a lawyer in the town where we resided, who had a good deal to do with our late relative’s affairs; and, after mentioning to him the footing we were on with the deceased, and the expectations he had led us to indulge in, inquired if nothing would arise to us from Mr. Hairsplitter’s effects.

“Not a rap!” was the laconic and dignified reply—“not a cross, not a cowrie! You haven’t a shadow of claim to anything. All that Mr. Hairsplitter may have said goes for nothing, as it is not down in black and white, in legal phrase.”

So, my friends (said the narrator, with a sigh) here was an end to this fortune and to my luck, at that bout, at any rate. Still, gentlemen (went on the little hump-backed man in the bright yellow waistcoat), I maintain there was luck in the caul.

I was now, you must know, my friends, getting up in years—that is to say, I was now somewhere about one-and-twenty. Well, my father, thinking it full time that I should be put in a way of doing something for myself, applied, in my behalf, to a certain nobleman who resided in our neighbourhood, and who was under obligations to my father for some election services. When my father called on the peer alluded to, and informed him of his object—“Why, sir,” said his lordship, “this is rather a fortunate circumstance for both of us. I am just now in want of precisely such a young man as you describe your son to be, to act as my secretary and amanuensis, and will therefore be very glad to employ him.” His lordship then mentioned his terms. They were liberal, and, of course, instantly accepted. This settled, my father was desired to send me to Cram Hall, his lordship’s residence, next day, to enter on my new duties.

Here, then, you see, was luck at last, gentlemen (said the little hump-backed gentleman in the bright yellow waistcoat); for the nobleman was powerful, and there was no saying what he might do for me. Next day, accordingly, I repaired to Cram Hall with a beating, but exulting heart; for I was at once proud of my employment, and terrified for my employer, who was, I knew, a dignified, pompous, vain, conceited personage.