CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
TOM PINCH DEPARTS TO SEEK HIS FORTUNE. WHAT HE FINDS AT STARTING
Oh! What a different town Salisbury was in Tom Pinch's eyes to be sure,when the substantial Pecksniff of his heart melted away into an idledream! He possessed the same faith in the wonderful shops, the sameintensified appreciation of the mystery and wickedness of the place;made the same exalted estimate of its wealth, population, and resources;and yet it was not the old city nor anything like it. He walked into themarket while they were getting breakfast ready for him at the Inn; andthough it was the same market as of old, crowded by the same buyers andsellers; brisk with the same business; noisy with the same confusion oftongues and cluttering of fowls in coops; fair with the same displayof rolls of butter, newly made, set forth in linen cloths of dazzlingwhiteness; green with the same fresh show of dewy vegetables; daintywith the same array in higglers' baskets of small shaving-glasses,laces, braces, trouser-straps, and hardware; savoury with the sameunstinted show of delicate pigs' feet, and pies made precious by thepork that once had walked upon them; still it was strangely changed toTom. For, in the centre of the market-place, he missed a statue hehad set up there as in all other places of his personal resort; and itlooked cold and bare without that ornament.
The change lay no deeper than this, for Tom was far from being sageenough to know, that, having been disappointed in one man, it would havebeen a strictly rational and eminently wise proceeding to have revengedhimself upon mankind in general, by mistrusting them one and all. Indeedthis piece of justice, though it is upheld by the authority of diversprofound poets and honourable men, bears a nearer resemblance to thejustice of that good Vizier in the Thousand-and-one Nights, who issuesorders for the destruction of all the Porters in Bagdad because one ofthat unfortunate fraternity is supposed to have misconducted himself,than to any logical, not to say Christian, system of conduct, known tothe world in later times.
Tom had so long been used to steep the Pecksniff of his fancy in histea, and spread him out upon his toast, and take him as a relish withhis beer, that he made but a poor breakfast on the first morning afterhis expulsion. Nor did he much improve his appetite for dinner byseriously considering his own affairs, and taking counsel thereon withhis friend the organist's assistant.
The organist's assistant gave it as his decided opinion that whateverTom did, he must go to London; for there was no place like it. Whichmay be true in the main, though hardly, perhaps, in itself, a sufficientreason for Tom's going there.
But Tom had thought of London before, and had coupled with it thoughtsof his sister, and of his old friend John Westlock, whose advicehe naturally felt disposed to seek in this important crisis of hisfortunes. To London, therefore, he resolved to go; and he went away tothe coach-office at once, to secure his place. The coach being alreadyfull, he was obliged to postpone his departure until the next night; buteven this circumstance had its bright side as well as its dark one, forthough it threatened to reduce his poor purse with unexpected countrycharges, it afforded him an opportunity of writing to Mrs Lupin andappointing his box to be brought to the old finger-post at the old time;which would enable him to take that treasure with him to the metropolis,and save the expense of its carriage. 'So,' said Tom, comfortinghimself, 'it's very nearly as broad as it's long.'
And it cannot be denied that, when he had made up his mind to even thisextent, he felt an unaccustomed sense of freedom--a vague and indistinctimpression of holiday-making--which was very luxurious. He had hismoments of depression and anxiety, and they were, with good reason,pretty numerous; but still, it was wonderfully pleasant to reflect thathe was his own master, and could plan and scheme for himself. It wasstartling, thrilling, vast, difficult to understand; it was a stupendoustruth, teeming with responsibility and self-distrust; but in spite ofall his cares, it gave a curious relish to the viands at the Inn, andinterposed a dreamy haze between him and his prospects, in which theysometimes showed to magical advantage.
In this unsettled state of mind, Tom went once more to bed in the lowfour-poster, to the same immovable surprise of the effigies of theformer landlord and the fat ox; and in this condition, passed the wholeof the succeeding day. When the coach came round at last with 'London'blazoned in letters of gold upon the boot, it gave Tom such a turn, thathe was half disposed to run away. But he didn't do it; for he took hisseat upon the box instead, and looking down upon the four greys, feltas if he were another grey himself, or, at all events, a part of theturn-out; and was quite confused by the novelty and splendour of hissituation.
And really it might have confused a less modest man than Tom to findhimself sitting next that coachman; for of all the swells that everflourished a whip professionally, he might have been elected emperor. Hedidn't handle his gloves like another man, but put them on--even when hewas standing on the pavement, quite detached from the coach--as if thefour greys were, somehow or other, at the ends of the fingers. It wasthe same with his hat. He did things with his hat, which nothing but anunlimited knowledge of horses and the wildest freedom of the road, couldever have made him perfect in. Valuable little parcels were brought tohim with particular instructions, and he pitched them into this hat, andstuck it on again; as if the laws of gravity did not admit of suchan event as its being knocked off or blown off, and nothing like anaccident could befall it. The guard, too! Seventy breezy miles a daywere written in his very whiskers. His manners were a canter; hisconversation a round trot. He was a fast coach upon a down-hill turnpikeroad; he was all pace. A waggon couldn't have moved slowly, with thatguard and his key-bugle on the top of it.
These were all foreshadowings of London, Tom thought, as he sat uponthe box, and looked about him. Such a coachman, and such a guard, nevercould have existed between Salisbury and any other place. The coachwas none of your steady-going, yokel coaches, but a swaggering, rakish,dissipated London coach; up all night, and lying by all day, and leadinga devil of a life. It cared no more for Salisbury than if it had beena hamlet. It rattled noisily through the best streets, defied theCathedral, took the worst corners sharpest, went cutting in everywhere,making everything get out of its way; and spun along the opencountry-road, blowing a lively defiance out of its key-bugle, as itslast glad parting legacy.
It was a charming evening. Mild and bright. And even with the weightupon his mind which arose out of the immensity and uncertainty ofLondon, Tom could not resist the captivating sense of rapid motionthrough the pleasant air. The four greys skimmed along, as if they likedit quite as well as Tom did; the bugle was in as high spirits as thegreys; the coachman chimed in sometimes with his voice; the wheelshummed cheerfully in unison; the brass work on the harness was anorchestra of little bells; and thus, as they went clinking, jingling,rattling smoothly on, the whole concern, from the buckles of theleaders' coupling-reins to the handle of the hind boot, was one greatinstrument of music.
Yoho, past hedges, gates, and trees; past cottages and barns, and peoplegoing home from work. Yoho, past donkey-chaises, drawn aside into theditch, and empty carts with rampant horses, whipped up at a bound uponthe little watercourse, and held by struggling carters close to thefive-barred gate, until the coach had passed the narrow turning in theroad. Yoho, by churches dropped down by themselves in quiet nooks,with rustic burial-grounds about them, where the graves are green, anddaisies sleep--for it is evening--on the bosoms of the dead. Yoho, paststreams, in which the cattle cool their feet, and where the rushes grow;past paddock-fences, farms, and rick-yards; past last year's stacks,cut, slice by slice, away, and showing, in the waning light, like ruinedgables, old and brown. Yoho, down the pebbly dip, and through the merrywater-splash and up at a canter to the level road again. Yoho! Yoho!
Was the box there, when they came up to the old finger-post? The box!Was Mrs Lupin herself? Had she turned out magnificently as a hostessshould, in her own chaise-cart, and was she sitting in a mahogany chair,driving her own horse Dragon (who ought to have been called Dumpling),and looking lovely? Did the stage-coa
ch pull up beside her, shaving hervery wheel, and even while the guard helped her man up with the trunk,did he send the glad echoes of his bugle careering down the chimneys ofthe distant Pecksniff, as if the coach expressed its exultation in therescue of Tom Pinch?
'This is kind indeed!' said Tom, bending down to shake hands with her.'I didn't mean to give you this trouble.'
'Trouble, Mr Pinch!' cried the hostess of the Dragon.
'Well! It's a pleasure to you, I know,' said Tom, squeezing her handheartily. 'Is there any news?'
The hostess shook her head.
'Say you saw me,' said Tom, 'and that I was very bold and cheerful, andnot a bit down-hearted; and that I entreated her to be the same, for allis certain to come right at last. Good-bye!'
'You'll write when you get settled, Mr Pinch?' said Mrs Lupin.
'When I get settled!' cried Tom, with an involuntary opening of hiseyes. 'Oh, yes, I'll write when I get settled. Perhaps I had betterwrite before, because I may find that it takes a little time to settlemyself; not having too much money, and having only one friend. I shallgive your love to the friend, by the way. You were always great with MrWestlock, you know. Good-bye!'
'Good-bye!' said Mrs Lupin, hastily producing a basket with a longbottle sticking out of it. 'Take this. Good-bye!'
'Do you want me to carry it to London for you?' cried Tom. She wasalready turning the chaise-cart round.
'No, no,' said Mrs Lupin. 'It's only a little something for refreshmenton the road. Sit fast, Jack. Drive on, sir. All right! Good-bye!'
She was a quarter of a mile off, before Tom collected himself; and thenhe was waving his hand lustily; and so was she.
'And that's the last of the old finger-post,' thought Tom, straininghis eyes, 'where I have so often stood to see this very coach go by,and where I have parted with so many companions! I used to compare thiscoach to some great monster that appeared at certain times to bear myfriends away into the world. And now it's bearing me away, to seek myfortune, Heaven knows where and how!'
It made Tom melancholy to picture himself walking up the lane and backto Pecksniff's as of old; and being melancholy, he looked downwards atthe basket on his knee, which he had for the moment forgotten.
'She is the kindest and most considerate creature in the world,' thoughtTom. 'Now I KNOW that she particularly told that man of hers not to lookat me, on purpose to prevent my throwing him a shilling! I had it readyfor him all the time, and he never once looked towards me; whereas thatman naturally, (for I know him very well,) would have done nothing butgrin and stare. Upon my word, the kindness of people perfectly meltsme.'
Here he caught the coachman's eye. The coachman winked. 'Remarkable finewoman for her time of life,' said the coachman.
'I quite agree with you,' returned Tom. 'So she is.'
'Finer than many a young 'un, I mean to say,' observed the coachman.'Eh?'
'Than many a young one,' Tom assented.
'I don't care for 'em myself when they're too young,' remarked thecoachman.
This was a matter of taste, which Tom did not feel himself called uponto discuss.
'You'll seldom find 'em possessing correct opinions about refreshment,for instance, when they're too young, you know,' said the coachman; 'awoman must have arrived at maturity, before her mind's equal to comingprovided with a basket like that.'
'Perhaps you would like to know what it contains?' said Tom, smiling.
As the coachman only laughed, and as Tom was curious himself, heunpacked it, and put the articles, one by one, upon the footboard. Acold roast fowl, a packet of ham in slices, a crusty loaf, a piece ofcheese, a paper of biscuits, half a dozen apples, a knife, some butter,a screw of salt, and a bottle of old sherry. There was a letter besides,which Tom put in his pocket.
The coachman was so earnest in his approval of Mrs Lupin's providenthabits, and congratulated Torn so warmly on his good fortune, that Tomfelt it necessary, for the lady's sake, to explain that the basket wasa strictly Platonic basket, and had merely been presented to him in theway of friendship. When he had made the statement with perfect gravity;for he felt it incumbent on him to disabuse the mind of this lax roverof any incorrect impressions on the subject; he signified that he wouldbe happy to share the gifts with him, and proposed that they shouldattack the basket in a spirit of good fellowship at any time in thecourse of the night which the coachman's experience and knowledge of theroad might suggest, as being best adapted to the purpose. From this timethey chatted so pleasantly together, that although Tom knew infinitelymore of unicorns than horses, the coachman informed his friend the guardat the end of the next stage, 'that rum as the box-seat looked, he wasas good a one to go, in pint of conversation, as ever he'd wish to sitby.'
Yoho, among the gathering shades; making of no account the deepreflections of the trees, but scampering on through light and darkness,all the same, as if the light of London fifty miles away, were quiteenough to travel by, and some to spare. Yoho, beside the village green,where cricket-players linger yet, and every little indentation made inthe fresh grass by bat or wicket, ball or player's foot, sheds out itsperfume on the night. Away with four fresh horses from the Bald-facedStag, where topers congregate about the door admiring; and the lastteam with traces hanging loose, go roaming off towards the pond, untilobserved and shouted after by a dozen throats, while volunteering boyspursue them. Now, with a clattering of hoofs and striking out of fierysparks, across the old stone bridge, and down again into the shadowyroad, and through the open gate, and far away, away, into the wold.Yoho!
Yoho, behind there, stop that bugle for a moment! Come creeping over tothe front, along the coach-roof, guard, and make one at this basket! Notthat we slacken in our pace the while, not we; we rather put the bitsof blood upon their metal, for the greater glory of the snack. Ah! Itis long since this bottle of old wine was brought into contact with themellow breath of night, you may depend, and rare good stuff it is to weta bugler's whistle with. Only try it. Don't be afraid of turning up yourfinger, Bill, another pull! Now, take your breath, and try the bugle,Bill. There's music! There's a tone!' over the hills and far away,'indeed. Yoho! The skittish mare is all alive to-night. Yoho! Yoho!
See the bright moon! High up before we know it; making the earth reflectthe objects on its breast like water. Hedges, trees, low cottages,church steeples, blighted stumps and flourishing young slips, haveall grown vain upon the sudden, and mean to contemplate their own fairimages till morning. The poplars yonder rustle that their quiveringleaves may see themselves upon the ground. Not so the oak; tremblingdoes not become HIM; and he watches himself in his stout old burlysteadfastness, without the motion of a twig. The moss-grown gate,ill-poised upon its creaking hinges, crippled and decayed swings to andfro before its glass, like some fantastic dowager; while our own ghostlylikeness travels on, Yoho! Yoho! through ditch and brake, upon theploughed land and the smooth, along the steep hillside and steeper wall,as if it were a phantom-Hunter.
Clouds too! And a mist upon the Hollow! Not a dull fog that hides it,but a light airy gauze-like mist, which in our eyes of modest admirationgives a new charm to the beauties it is spread before; as real gauze hasdone ere now, and would again, so please you, though we were the Pope.Yoho! Why now we travel like the Moon herself. Hiding this minute in agrove of trees; next minute in a patch of vapour; emerging now upon ourbroad clear course; withdrawing now, but always dashing on, our journeyis a counter-part of hers. Yoho! A match against the Moon!
The beauty of the night is hardly felt, when Day comes rushing up. Yoho!Two stages, and the country roads are almost changed to a continuousstreet. Yoho, past market-gardens, rows of houses, villas, crescents,terraces, and squares; past waggons, coaches, carts; past early workmen,late stragglers, drunken men, and sober carriers of loads; past brickand mortar in its every shape; and in among the rattling pavements,where a jaunty-seat upon a coach is not so easy to preserve! Yoho,down countless turnings, and through countless mazy ways, until an oldInnyard is gained, and T
om Pinch, getting down quite stunned and giddy,is in London!
'Five minutes before the time, too!' said the driver, as he received hisfee of Tom.
'Upon my word,' said Tom, 'I should not have minded very much, if we hadbeen five hours after it; for at this early hour I don't know where togo, or what to do with myself.'
'Don't they expect you then?' inquired the driver.
'Who?' said Tom.
'Why them,' returned the driver.
His mind was so clearly running on the assumption of Tom's having cometo town to see an extensive circle of anxious relations and friends,that it would have been pretty hard work to undeceive him. Tom did nottry. He cheerfully evaded the subject, and going into the Inn, fell fastasleep before a fire in one of the public rooms opening from the yard.When he awoke, the people in the house were all astir, so he washed anddressed himself; to his great refreshment after the journey; and, itbeing by that time eight o'clock, went forth at once to see his oldfriend John.
John Westlock lived in Furnival's Inn, High Holborn, which was within aquarter of an hour's walk of Tom's starting-point, but seemed a long wayoff, by reason of his going two or three miles out of the straight roadto make a short cut. When at last he arrived outside John's door, twostories up, he stood faltering with his hand upon the knocker, andtrembled from head to foot. For he was rendered very nervous by thethought of having to relate what had fallen out between himself andPecksniff; and he had a misgiving that John would exult fearfully in thedisclosure.
'But it must be made,' thought Tom, 'sooner or later; and I had betterget it over.'
Rat tat.
'I am afraid that's not a London knock,' thought Tom. 'It didn't soundbold. Perhaps that's the reason why nobody answers the door.'
It is quite certain that nobody came, and that Tom stood looking at theknocker; wondering whereabouts in the neighbourhood a certain gentlemanresided, who was roaring out to somebody 'Come in!' with all his might.
'Bless my soul!' thought Tom at last. 'Perhaps he lives here, and iscalling to me. I never thought of that. Can I open the door from theoutside, I wonder. Yes, to be sure I can.'
To be sure he could, by turning the handle; and to be sure when he didturn it the same voice came rushing out, crying 'Why don't you comein? Come in, do you hear? What are you standing there for?'--quiteviolently.
Tom stepped from the little passage into the room from which thesesounds proceeded, and had barely caught a glimpse of a gentleman in adressing-gown and slippers (with his boots beside him ready to put on),sitting at his breakfast with a newspaper in his hand, when the saidgentleman, at the imminent hazard of oversetting his tea-table, made aplunge at Tom, and hugged him.
'Why, Tom, my boy!' cried the gentleman. 'Tom!'
'How glad I am to see you, Mr Westlock!' said Tom Pinch, shaking bothhis hands, and trembling more than ever. 'How kind you are!'
'Mr Westlock!' repeated John, 'what do you mean by that, Pinch? You havenot forgotten my Christian name, I suppose?'
'No, John, no. I have not forgotten,' said Thomas Pinch. 'Good graciousme, how kind you are!'
'I never saw such a fellow in all my life!' cried John. 'What do youmean by saying THAT over and over again? What did you expect me to be, Iwonder! Here, sit down, Tom, and be a reasonable creature. How are you,my boy? I am delighted to see you!'
'And I am delighted to see YOU,' said Tom.
'It's mutual, of course,' returned John. 'It always was, I hope. IfI had known you had been coming, Tom, I would have had something forbreakfast. I would rather have such a surprise than the best breakfastin the world, myself; but yours is another case, and I have no doubt youare as hungry as a hunter. You must make out as well as you can, Tom,and we'll recompense ourselves at dinner-time. You take sugar, I know;I recollect the sugar at Pecksniff's. Ha, ha, ha! How IS Pecksniff? Whendid you come to town? DO begin at something or other, Tom. There areonly scraps here, but they are not at all bad. Boar's Head potted. Tryit, Tom. Make a beginning whatever you do. What an old Blade you are! Iam delighted to see you.'
While he delivered himself of these words in a state of great commotion,John was constantly running backwards and forwards to and from thecloset, bringing out all sorts of things in pots, scooping extraordinaryquantities of tea out of the caddy, dropping French rolls into hisboots, pouring hot water over the butter, and making a variety ofsimilar mistakes without disconcerting himself in the least.
'There!' said John, sitting down for the fiftieth time, and instantlystarting up again to make some other addition to the breakfast. 'Now weare as well off as we are likely to be till dinner. And now let us havethe news, Tom. Imprimis, how's Pecksniff?'
'I don't know how he is,' was Tom's grave answer.
John Westlock put the teapot down, and looked at him, in astonishment.
'I don't know how he is,' said Thomas Pinch; 'and, saving that I wishhim no ill, I don't care. I have left him, John. I have left him forever.'
'Voluntarily?'
'Why, no, for he dismissed me. But I had first found out that I wasmistaken in him; and I could not have remained with him under anycircumstances. I grieve to say that you were right in your estimate ofhis character. It may be a ridiculous weakness, John, but it has beenvery painful and bitter to me to find this out, I do assure you.'
Tom had no need to direct that appealing look towards his friend, inmild and gentle deprecation of his answering with a laugh. John Westlockwould as soon have thought of striking him down upon the floor.
'It was all a dream of mine,' said Tom, 'and it is over. I'll tell youhow it happened, at some other time. Bear with my folly, John. I do not,just now, like to think or speak about it.'
'I swear to you, Tom,' returned his friend, with great earnestness ofmanner, after remaining silent for a few moments, 'that when I see, asI do now, how deeply you feel this, I don't know whether to be glad orsorry that you have made the discovery at last. I reproach myself withthe thought that I ever jested on the subject; I ought to have knownbetter.'
'My dear friend,' said Tom, extending his hand, 'it is very generous andgallant in you to receive me and my disclosure in this spirit; it makesme blush to think that I should have felt a moment's uneasiness as Icame along. You can't think what a weight is lifted off my mind,' saidTom, taking up his knife and fork again, and looking very cheerful. 'Ishall punish the Boar's Head dreadfully.'
The host, thus reminded of his duties, instantly betook himself topiling up all kinds of irreconcilable and contradictory viands in Tom'splate, and a very capital breakfast Tom made, and very much the betterfor it Tom felt.
'That's all right,' said John, after contemplating his visitor'sproceedings with infinite satisfaction. 'Now, about our plans. You aregoing to stay with me, of course. Where's your box?'
'It's at the Inn,' said Tom. 'I didn't intend--'
'Never mind what you didn't intend,' John Westlock interposed. 'What youDID intend is more to the purpose. You intended, in coming here, to askmy advice, did you not, Tom?'
'Certainly.'
'And to take it when I gave it to you?'
'Yes,' rejoined Tom, smiling, 'if it were good advice, which, beingyours, I have no doubt it will be.'
'Very well. Then don't be an obstinate old humbug in the outset, Tom, orI shall shut up shop and dispense none of that invaluable commodity. Youare on a visit to me. I wish I had an organ for you, Tom!'
'So do the gentlemen downstairs, and the gentlemen overhead I have nodoubt,' was Tom's reply.
'Let me see. In the first place, you will wish to see your sister thismorning,' pursued his friend, 'and of course you will like to go therealone. I'll walk part of the way with you; and see about a littlebusiness of my own, and meet you here again in the afternoon. Put thatin your pocket, Tom. It's only the key of the door. If you come homefirst you'll want it.'
'Really,' said Tom, 'quartering one's self upon a friend in this way--'
'Why, there are two keys,' interposed John Westlock. 'I can't o
pen thedoor with them both at once, can I? What a ridiculous fellow you are,Tom? Nothing particular you'd like for dinner, is there?'
'Oh dear no,' said Tom.
'Very well, then you may as well leave it to me. Have a glass of cherrybrandy, Tom?'
'Not a drop! What remarkable chambers these are!' said Pinch 'there'severything in 'em!'
'Bless your soul, Tom, nothing but a few little bachelor contrivances!the sort of impromptu arrangements that might have suggested themselvesto Philip Quarll or Robinson Crusoe, that's all. What do you say? Shallwe walk?'
'By all means,' cried Tom. 'As soon as you like.'
Accordingly John Westlock took the French rolls out of his boots, andput his boots on, and dressed himself; giving Tom the paper to read inthe meanwhile. When he returned, equipped for walking, he found Tom in abrown study, with the paper in his hand.
'Dreaming, Tom?'
'No,' said Mr Pinch, 'No. I have been looking over the advertisingsheet, thinking there might be something in it which would be likelyto suit me. But, as I often think, the strange thing seems to be thatnobody is suited. Here are all kinds of employers wanting all sorts ofservants, and all sorts of servants wanting all kinds of employers, andthey never seem to come together. Here is a gentleman in a public officein a position of temporary difficulty, who wants to borrow five hundredpounds; and in the very next advertisement here is another gentleman whohas got exactly that sum to lend. But he'll never lend it to him, John,you'll find! Here is a lady possessing a moderate independence, whowants to board and lodge with a quiet, cheerful family; and here is afamily describing themselves in those very words, "a quiet, cheerfulfamily," who want exactly such a lady to come and live with them. Butshe'll never go, John! Neither do any of these single gentlemen who wantan airy bedroom, with the occasional use of a parlour, ever appear tocome to terms with these other people who live in a rural situationremarkable for its bracing atmosphere, within five minutes' walk ofthe Royal Exchange. Even those letters of the alphabet who are alwaysrunning away from their friends and being entreated at the tops ofcolumns to come back, never DO come back, if we may judge from thenumber of times they are asked to do it and don't. It really seems,'said Tom, relinquishing the paper with a thoughtful sigh, 'as if peoplehad the same gratification in printing their complaints as in makingthem known by word of mouth; as if they found it a comfort andconsolation to proclaim "I want such and such a thing, and I can't getit, and I don't expect I ever shall!"'
John Westlock laughed at the idea, and they went out together. So manyyears had passed since Tom was last in London, and he had known solittle of it then, that his interest in all he saw was very great. Hewas particularly anxious, among other notorious localities, to havethose streets pointed out to him which were appropriated to theslaughter of countrymen; and was quite disappointed to find, afterhalf-an-hour's walking, that he hadn't had his pocket picked. Buton John Westlock's inventing a pickpocket for his gratification, andpointing out a highly respectable stranger as one of that fraternity, hewas much delighted.
His friend accompanied him to within a short distance of Camberwelland having put him beyond the possibility of mistaking the wealthybrass-and-copper founder's, left him to make his visit. Arriving beforethe great bell-handle, Tom gave it a gentle pull. The porter appeared.
'Pray does Miss Pinch live here?' said Tom.
'Miss Pinch is governess here,' replied the porter.
At the same time he looked at Tom from head to foot, as if he would havesaid, 'You are a nice man, YOU are; where did YOU come from?'
'It's the same young lady,' said Tom. 'It's quite right. Is she athome?'
'I don't know, I'm sure,' rejoined the porter.
'Do you think you could have the goodness to ascertain?' said Tom. Hehad quite a delicacy in offering the suggestion, for the possibilityof such a step did not appear to present itself to the porter's mind atall.
The fact was that the porter in answering the gate-bell had, accordingto usage, rung the house-bell (for it is as well to do these things inthe Baronial style while you are about it), and that there the functionsof his office had ceased. Being hired to open and shut the gate, andnot to explain himself to strangers, he left this little incident to bedeveloped by the footman with the tags, who, at this juncture, calledout from the door steps:
'Hollo, there! wot are you up to? This way, young man!'
'Oh!' said Tom, hurrying towards him. 'I didn't observe that there wasanybody else. Pray is Miss Pinch at home?'
'She's IN,' replied the footman. As much as to say to Tom: 'But if youthink she has anything to do with the proprietorship of this place youhad better abandon that idea.'
'I wish to see her, if you please,' said Tom.
The footman, being a lively young man, happened to have his attentioncaught at that moment by the flight of a pigeon, in which he took sowarm an interest that his gaze was rivetted on the bird until it wasquite out of sight. He then invited Tom to come in, and showed him intoa parlour.
'Hany neem?' said the young man, pausing languidly at the door.
It was a good thought; because without providing the stranger, in casehe should happen to be of a warm temper, with a sufficient excuse forknocking him down, it implied this young man's estimate of his quality,and relieved his breast of the oppressive burden of rating him in secretas a nameless and obscure individual.
'Say her brother, if you please,' said Tom.
'Mother?' drawled the footman.
'Brother,' repeated Tom, slightly raising his voice. 'And if you willsay, in the first instance, a gentleman, and then say her brother,I shall be obliged to you, as she does not expect me or know I am inLondon, and I do not wish to startle her.'
The young man's interest in Tom's observations had ceased long beforethis time, but he kindly waited until now; when, shutting the door, hewithdrew.
'Dear me!' said Tom. 'This is very disrespectful and uncivil behaviour.I hope these are new servants here, and that Ruth is very differentlytreated.'
His cogitations were interrupted by the sound of voices in the adjoiningroom. They seemed to be engaged in high dispute, or in indignantreprimand of some offender; and gathering strength occasionally, brokeout into a perfect whirlwind. It was in one of these gusts, as itappeared to Tom, that the footman announced him; for an abrupt andunnatural calm took place, and then a dead silence. He was standingbefore the window, wondering what domestic quarrel might have causedthese sounds, and hoping Ruth had nothing to do with it, when the dooropened, and his sister ran into his arms.
'Why, bless my soul!' said Tom, looking at her with great pride, whenthey had tenderly embraced each other, 'how altered you are Ruth! Ishould scarcely have known you, my love, if I had seen you anywhereelse, I declare! You are so improved,' said Tom, with inexpressibledelight; 'you are so womanly; you are so--positively, you know, you areso handsome!'
'If YOU think so Tom--'
'Oh, but everybody must think so, you know,' said Tom, gently smoothingdown her hair. 'It's matter of fact; not opinion. But what's thematter?' said Tom, looking at her more intently, 'how flushed you are!and you have been crying.'
'No, I have not, Tom.'
'Nonsense,' said her brother stoutly. 'That's a story. Don't tell me! Iknow better. What is it, dear? I'm not with Mr Pecksniff now. I am goingto try and settle myself in London; and if you are not happy here (as Ivery much fear you are not, for I begin to think you have been deceivingme with the kindest and most affectionate intention) you shall notremain here.'
Oh! Tom's blood was rising; mind that! Perhaps the Boar's Head hadsomething to do with it, but certainly the footman had. So had the sightof his pretty sister--a great deal to do with it. Tom could bear a gooddeal himself, but he was proud of her, and pride is a sensitive thing.He began to think, 'there are more Pecksniffs than one, perhaps,' and byall the pins and needles that run up and down in angry veins, Tom was ina most unusual tingle all at once!
'We will talk about it, Tom,' said Ruth
, giving him another kiss topacify him. 'I am afraid I cannot stay here.'
'Cannot!' replied Tom. 'Why then, you shall not, my love. Heyday! Youare not an object of charity! Upon my word!'
Tom was stopped in these exclamations by the footman, who brought amessage from his master, importing that he wished to speak with himbefore he went, and with Miss Pinch also.
'Show the way,' said Tom. 'I'll wait upon him at once.'
Accordingly they entered the adjoining room from which the noise ofaltercation had proceeded; and there they found a middle-aged gentleman,with a pompous voice and manner, and a middle-aged lady, with what maybe termed an excisable face, or one in which starch and vinegar weredecidedly employed. There was likewise present that eldest pupil of MissPinch, whom Mrs Todgers, on a previous occasion, had called a syrup, andwho was now weeping and sobbing spitefully.
'My brother, sir,' said Ruth Pinch, timidly presenting Tom.
'Oh!' cried the gentleman, surveying Tom attentively. 'You really areMiss Pinch's brother, I presume? You will excuse my asking. I don'tobserve any resemblance.'
'Miss Pinch has a brother, I know,' observed the lady.
'Miss Pinch is always talking about her brother, when she ought to beengaged upon my education,' sobbed the pupil.
'Sophia! Hold your tongue!' observed the gentleman. 'Sit down, if youplease,' addressing Tom.
Tom sat down, looking from one face to another, in mute surprise.
'Remain here, if you please, Miss Pinch,' pursued the gentleman, lookingslightly over his shoulder.
Tom interrupted him here, by rising to place a chair for his sister.Having done which he sat down again.
'I am glad you chance to have called to see your sister to-day, sir,'resumed the brass-and-copper founder. 'For although I do not approve, asa principle, of any young person engaged in my family in the capacityof a governess, receiving visitors, it happens in this case to be welltimed. I am sorry to inform you that we are not at all satisfied withyour sister.'
'We are very much DISsatisfied with her,' observed the lady.
'I'd never say another lesson to Miss Pinch if I was to be beat to deathfor it!' sobbed the pupil.
'Sophia!' cried her father. 'Hold your tongue!'
'Will you allow me to inquire what your ground of dissatisfaction is?'asked Tom.
'Yes,' said the gentleman, 'I will. I don't recognize it as a right;but I will. Your sister has not the slightest innate power of commandingrespect. It has been a constant source of difference between us.Although she has been in this family for some time, and although theyoung lady who is now present has almost, as it were, grown up underher tuition, that young lady has no respect for her. Miss Pinch hasbeen perfectly unable to command my daughter's respect, or to win mydaughter's confidence. Now,' said the gentleman, allowing the palm ofhis hand to fall gravely down upon the table: 'I maintain that there issomething radically wrong in that! You, as her brother, may be disposedto deny it--'
'I beg your pardon, sir,' said Tom. 'I am not at all disposed todeny it. I am sure that there is something radically wrong; radicallymonstrous, in that.'
'Good Heavens!' cried the gentleman, looking round the room withdignity, 'what do I find to be the case! what results obtrude themselvesupon me as flowing from this weakness of character on the part ofMiss Pinch! What are my feelings as a father, when, after my desire(repeatedly expressed to Miss Pinch, as I think she will not venture todeny) that my daughter should be choice in her expressions, genteel inher deportment, as becomes her station in life, and politely distant toher inferiors in society, I find her, only this very morning, addressingMiss Pinch herself as a beggar!'
'A beggarly thing,' observed the lady, in correction.
'Which is worse,' said the gentleman, triumphantly; 'which is worse. Abeggarly thing. A low, coarse, despicable expression!'
'Most despicable,' cried Tom. 'I am glad to find that there is a justappreciation of it here.'
'So just, sir,' said the gentleman, lowering his voice to be the moreimpressive. 'So just, that, but for my knowing Miss Pinch to be anunprotected young person, an orphan, and without friends, I would, asI assured Miss Pinch, upon my veracity and personal character, a fewminutes ago, I would have severed the connection between us at thatmoment and from that time.'
'Bless my soul, sir!' cried Tom, rising from his seat; for he was nowunable to contain himself any longer; 'don't allow such considerationsas those to influence you, pray. They don't exist, sir. She is notunprotected. She is ready to depart this instant. Ruth, my dear, getyour bonnet on!'
'Oh, a pretty family!' cried the lady. 'Oh, he's her brother! There's nodoubt about that!'
'As little doubt, madam,' said Tom, 'as that the young lady yonder isthe child of your teaching, and not my sister's. Ruth, my dear, get yourbonnet on!'
'When you say, young man,' interposed the brass-and-copper founder,haughtily, 'with that impertinence which is natural to you, and which Itherefore do not condescend to notice further, that the young lady, myeldest daughter, has been educated by any one but Miss Pinch, you--Ineedn't proceed. You comprehend me fully. I have no doubt you are usedto it.'
'Sir!' cried Tom, after regarding him in silence for some little time.'If you do not understand what I mean, I will tell you. If you dounderstand what I mean, I beg you not to repeat that mode of expressingyourself in answer to it. My meaning is, that no man can expect hischildren to respect what he degrades.'
'Ha, ha, ha!' laughed the gentleman. 'Cant! cant! The common cant!'
'The common story, sir!' said Tom; 'the story of a common mind. Yourgoverness cannot win the confidence and respect of your children,forsooth! Let her begin by winning yours, and see what happens then.'
'Miss Pinch is getting her bonnet on, I trust, my dear?' said thegentleman.
'I trust she is,' said Tom, forestalling the reply. 'I have no doubtshe is. In the meantime I address myself to you, sir. You made yourstatement to me, sir; you required to see me for that purpose; and Ihave a right to answer it. I am not loud or turbulent,' said Tom, whichwas quite true, 'though I can scarcely say as much for you, in yourmanner of addressing yourself to me. And I wish, on my sister's behalf,to state the simple truth.'
'You may state anything you like, young man,' returned the gentleman,affecting to yawn. 'My dear, Miss Pinch's money.'
'When you tell me,' resumed Tom, who was not the less indignant forkeeping himself quiet, 'that my sister has no innate power of commandingthe respect of your children, I must tell you it is not so; and that shehas. She is as well bred, as well taught, as well qualified by natureto command respect, as any hirer of a governess you know. But when youplace her at a disadvantage in reference to every servant in your house,how can you suppose, if you have the gift of common sense, that she isnot in a tenfold worse position in reference to your daughters?'
'Pretty well! Upon my word,' exclaimed the gentleman, 'this is prettywell!'
'It is very ill, sir,' said Tom. 'It is very bad and mean, and wrong andcruel. Respect! I believe young people are quick enough to observe andimitate; and why or how should they respect whom no one else respects,and everybody slights? And very partial they must grow--oh, verypartial!--to their studies, when they see to what a pass proficiency inthose same tasks has brought their governess! Respect! Put anything themost deserving of respect before your daughters in the light in whichyou place her, and you will bring it down as low, no matter what it is!'
'You speak with extreme impertinence, young man,' observed thegentleman.
'I speak without passion, but with extreme indignation and contemptfor such a course of treatment, and for all who practice it,' saidTom. 'Why, how can you, as an honest gentleman, profess displeasure orsurprise at your daughter telling my sister she is something beggarlyand humble, when you are for ever telling her the same thing yourself infifty plain, outspeaking ways, though not in words; and when your veryporter and footman make the same delicate announcement to all comers? Asto your suspicion and distr
ust of her; even of her word; if she is notabove their reach, you have no right to employ her.'
'No right!' cried the brass-and-copper founder.
'Distinctly not,' Tom answered. 'If you imagine that the payment of anannual sum of money gives it to you, you immensely exaggerate its powerand value. Your money is the least part of your bargain in such a case.You may be punctual in that to half a second on the clock, and yetbe Bankrupt. I have nothing more to say,' said Tom, much flushed andflustered, now that it was over, 'except to crave permission to stand inyour garden until my sister is ready.'
Not waiting to obtain it, Tom walked out.
Before he had well begun to cool, his sister joined him. She was crying;and Tom could not bear that any one about the house should see her doingthat.
'They will think you are sorry to go,' said Tom. 'You are not sorry togo?'
'No, Tom, no. I have been anxious to go for a very long time.'
'Very well, then! Don't cry!' said Tom.
'I am so sorry for YOU, dear,' sobbed Tom's sister.
'But you ought to be glad on my account,' said Tom. 'I shall be twice ashappy with you for a companion. Hold up your head. There! Now we goout as we ought. Not blustering, you know, but firm and confident inourselves.'
The idea of Tom and his sister blustering, under any circumstances, wasa splendid absurdity. But Tom was very far from feeling it to be so,in his excitement; and passed out at the gate with such severedetermination written in his face that the porter hardly knew him again.
It was not until they had walked some short distance, and Tom foundhimself getting cooler and more collected, that he was quite restored tohimself by an inquiry from his sister, who said in her pleasant littlevoice:
'Where are we going, Tom?'
'Dear me!' said Tom, stopping, 'I don't know.'
'Don't you--don't you live anywhere, dear?' asked Tom's sister lookingwistfully in his face.
'No,' said Tom. 'Not at present. Not exactly. I only arrived thismorning. We must have some lodgings.'
He didn't tell her that he had been going to stay with his friend John,and could on no account think of billeting two inmates upon him, of whomone was a young lady; for he knew that would make her uncomfortable,and would cause her to regard herself as being an inconvenience to him.Neither did he like to leave her anywhere while he called on John, andtold him of this change in his arrangements; for he was delicate ofseeming to encroach upon the generous and hospitable nature of hisfriend. Therefore he said again, 'We must have some lodgings, ofcourse;' and said it as stoutly as if he had been a perfect Directoryand Guide-Book to all the lodgings in London.
'Where shall we go and look for 'em?' said Tom. 'What do you think?'
Tom's sister was not much wiser on such a topic than he was. So shesqueezed her little purse into his coat-pocket, and folding the littlehand with which she did so on the other little hand with which sheclasped his arm, said nothing.
'It ought to be a cheap neighbourhood,' said Tom, 'and not too far fromLondon. Let me see. Should you think Islington a good place?'
'I should think it was an excellent place, Tom.'
'It used to be called Merry Islington, once upon a time,' said Tom.'Perhaps it's merry now; if so, it's all the better. Eh?'
'If it's not too dear,' said Tom's sister.
'Of course, if it's not too dear,' assented Tom. 'Well, where ISIslington? We can't do better than go there, I should think. Let's go.'
Tom's sister would have gone anywhere with him; so they walked off, armin arm, as comfortably as possible. Finding, presently, that Islingtonwas not in that neighbourhood, Tom made inquiries respecting a publicconveyance thither; which they soon obtained. As they rode along theywere very full of conversation indeed, Tom relating what had happenedto him, and Tom's sister relating what had happened to her, and bothfinding a great deal more to say than time to say it in; for they hadonly just begun to talk, in comparison with what they had to tell eachother, when they reached their journey's end.
'Now,' said Tom, 'we must first look out for some very unpretendingstreets, and then look out for bills in the windows.'
So they walked off again, quite as happily as if they had just steppedout of a snug little house of their own, to look for lodgings on accountof somebody else. Tom's simplicity was unabated, Heaven knows; butnow that he had somebody to rely upon him, he was stimulated to rely alittle more upon himself, and was, in his own opinion, quite a desperatefellow.
After roaming up and down for hours, looking at some scores of lodgings,they began to find it rather fatiguing, especially as they saw nonewhich were at all adapted to their purpose. At length, however, in asingular little old-fashioned house, up a blind street, they discoveredtwo small bedrooms and a triangular parlour, which promised to suitthem well enough. Their desiring to take possession immediately was asuspicious circumstance, but even this was surmounted by the paymentof their first week's rent, and a reference to John Westlock, Esquire,Furnival's Inn, High Holborn.
Ah! It was a goodly sight, when this important point was settled,to behold Tom and his sister trotting round to the baker's, and thebutcher's, and the grocer's, with a kind of dreadful delight in theunaccustomed cares of housekeeping; taking secret counsel together asthey gave their small orders, and distracted by the least suggestionon the part of the shopkeeper! When they got back to the triangularparlour, and Tom's sister, bustling to and fro, busy about a thousandpleasant nothings, stopped every now and then to give old Tom a kiss orsmile upon him, Tom rubbed his hands as if all Islington were his.
It was late in the afternoon now, though, and high time for Tom tokeep his appointment. So, after agreeing with his sister thatin consideration of not having dined, they would venture on theextravagance of chops for supper at nine, he walked out again to narratethese marvellous occurrences to John.
'I am quite a family man all at once,' thought Tom. 'If I can only getsomething to do, how comfortable Ruth and I may be! Ah, that if!But it's of no use to despond. I can but do that, when I have triedeverything and failed; and even then it won't serve me much. Upon myword,' thought Tom, quickening his pace, 'I don't know what John willthink has become of me. He'll begin to be afraid I have strayed into oneof those streets where the countrymen are murdered; and that I have beenmade meat pies of, or some such horrible thing.'
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