At that moment a simple-looking servant-girl with a bandbox came across the Green, and a fight commenced between the conducteurs of the rival vehicles for the unfortunate woman, in which she got not a little pulled about. The Red Rover, however, won the day; and glad enough was I when we started, at a rattling pace. But my pleasure was of short duration.
"Where are you going?" asked an old women opposite me, who knew the road, which I did not.
"Going to take up, ma'am," said the cad. "We shall be back to the Green Man in ten minutes if you've left any thing behind."
"Where is my bandbox?" said the girl.
"I knows nothing about it, not I; I suppose it went by the other 'bus if you arn't a got it. Why did you let it out of your own hands, young 'oman? That 'ere cad is the greatest thief on the road."
The girl began to cry, and declared she should lose her place; and I to swear, for I thought it very likely I should lose mine. But we at length once more passed the Green, and tore along at the rate of ten miles an hour, till we set down passengers at the Elephant and Castle. Reader, do you happen to know a biscuit-shop occupying the corner of the road to Westminster, opposite the aforesaid Elephant and Castle? There it was, the Red Rover drew up, and the cad descended to run after a man and woman, who seemed undetermined whether they would take six-pennyworth or not. My patience was now quite exhausted. A four-horse Westminster coach was just starting across the way, and, determined to get a place in a more expeditious conveyance, I dashed open the door of the omnibus just as the conducteur's "all right" again set the carriage in motion; he, having failed in his canvassing, at the same instant jumped on the step behind the 'bus. The consequences were direful. The cad was transferred to the pavement by a swingeing blow on the temple from the opening panel, while I lost my equilibrium, and made a full-length prostration into mud four inches thick, which formed the bed of the road. I had fallen face downward, and the infuriated official of the 'bus quickly bestrode me, grasping me by the nape of the neck. I gasped for breath. Never shall I forget what I then inhaled. To bite the dust is always disagreeable; but, I can assure you, it is nothing to a mouthful of mud. Rescued at last by the intervention of the police, I was permitted to rise. I had no time to dispute the question of right and wrong; glad enough was I to be allowed to medicate the cad's promissory black eye with a sovereign; for which I was declared by all present, and particularly by the man what rides behind the 'homnibus' "to be a perfect gemman, only a little hasty." Never was a gentleman in a worse pickle. The road had been creamed by the reign of wet weather that marks an English summer. Had I been diving in a mud-cart, or "far into the bowels of the land," through the medium of a ditch in the neighbouring St. George's Fields, I could not have presented a more extraordinary appearance. I might have been rated as a forty-shilling landholder, and rich soil into the bargain. As soon as I could clear my eyes sufficiently to permit of the exercise of vision, I espied an old clothes' shop in the distance; and in this welcome retreat I speedily bestowed myself amid cries of "How are you off for soap?"—"There you go, stick-in-the-mud!"—"Where did you lie last?" and other specimens of suburban wit. Having left the admiring gaze of about two hundred spectators, I obtained a washing-tub and a private room from my newly-formed acquaintance, Isaacs; and, my ablutions being complete, I equipped myself in a full suit of black, which, though the habiliments were rather the worse for wear, fitted me pretty well, and had been, withal, decently made. I was also supplied with shirt and drawers, "goot ash new," and a hat which Isaacs swore was only made the week before, and "cheap ash dirt." I appreciated the simile, but the hat I could scarcely get on my head; time was however wearing away, and I was obliged to have it, as well as a pair of Blucher boots, not a Wellington fitting me in the Jew's whole stock of such articles. I again started. There happened to be a hackney-coach passing just as I emerged from the shop. This was fortunate; for, to hide my low boots, Isaacs had strapped my trousers down so tightly, that, not trusting much to the material, I thought it might be advisable to avoid walking.
I had yet sufficient time before me to keep my appointment, and I was now fairly on my way to Curzon Street; nothing interrupting my meditation for the next half hour but the paying of a turnpike. I had certainly met with many vexatious annoyances during the morning; but I felt pleased with myself for so far conquering my impetuous spirit as to have exhibited, on the whole, but little irritation under my suffering. For this, I thought I deserved to succeed in my present visit to that high-priest of Fortune, a patron. Then I bethought me of Maria, and took a glance at my suit of black. I fancied that I must look very like an undertaker,—I knew not why: I had imagined myself perfectly gentlemanly in appearance when I left my toilet at Norwood, and I had only changed one suit of black for another,—but then these were not made for me. Perhaps some poor fellow had been hanged in them. I got nervous and miserable.
My hat galled my head; I removed it, and held it in my hand. It certainly did not look like a new one. I was ingeniously tormenting myself with calling to memory every disease of the scalp I had ever heard of, when I reached the corner of Curzon Street; and, not wishing to desecrate the portals of the fastidious peer by driving up in a "Jarvey," I got out, and made my approach on foot. I had knocked—there was a delay in opening the door. The porter is out of the way, thought I; and I took an opportunity of looking at my heels, to see if I had walked off with any straws from the coach. I heard the door opening;—I say heard, for I did not look up, my eyes just then resting on a small piece of tape that I had been dragging in the dirt—Oh! luckless appurtenance of the drawers of the Jew!—Yes! the door was opening to admit me to the presence of my noble relation—my patron—who I trusted was waiting with an appointment of 1500l. a-year, anxious to bestow it on his godson—the morning that was to witness my introduction to her whom I had already wedded in my imagination—I saw a little piece of tape dangling at my heels! Before the portals of the mansion had quite gaped to receive me, my finger was twisted round this cruel instrument of destiny, in the hope of breaking it. I pulled. Acting like a knife on the trousers, fast strapped to my boots, and too powerful a strain on the drawers, though "goot ash new," both were rent to the waistband;—my coat ripped at the shoulder by the action of my arm;—my hat fell off, and was taken by the wind down the street;—and the servant, to whom, having finished this ingenious operation, I stood fully disclosed, unfortunately saw but the effects, without knowing the cause of my disaster.
The man was too well-bred to remark my appearance, but he had every reason for thinking me either mad or drunk; as, to crown all, my face must have been flushed and distorted from rage and mortification.
"My lord expects you in the library, sir," said the astounded servant.