by T. Smollett
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
IN WHICH CAPTAIN CROWE IS SUBLIMED INTO THE REGIONS ON ASTROLOGY.
Three whole days had our adventurer prosecuted his inquiry about theamiable Aurelia, whom he sought in every place of public and of privateentertainment or resort, without obtaining the least satisfactoryintelligence, when he received one evening, from the hands of a porter,who instantly vanished, the following billet:
"If you would learn the particulars of Miss Darnel's fate fail not to bein the fields by the Foundling Hospital, precisely at seven o'clock thisevening, when you shall be met by a person who will give you thesatisfaction you desire, together with his reason for addressing you inthis mysterious manner."
Had this intimation concerned any other subject, perhaps the knight wouldhave deliberated with himself in what manner he should take a hint sodarkly communicated. But his eagerness to retrieve the jewel he had lostdivested him of all his caution; the time of assignation was already athand, and neither the captain nor his nephew could be found to accompanyhim, had he been disposed to make use of their attendance. He therefore,after a moment's hesitation, repaired to the place appointed, in theutmost agitation and anxiety, lest the hour should be elapsed before hisarrival.
Crowe was one of those defective spirits who cannot subsist for anylength of time on their own bottoms. He wanted a familiar prop, uponwhich he could disburden his cares, his doubts, and his humours; anhumble friend who would endure his caprices, and with whom he couldcommunicate, free of all reserve and restraint. Though he loved hisnephew's person, and admired his parts, he considered him often as alittle petulant jackanapes, who presumed upon his superior understanding;and as for Sir Launcelot, there was something in his character thatoverawed the seaman, and kept him at a disagreeable distance. He had, inthis dilemma, cast his eyes upon Timothy Crabshaw, and admitted him to aconsiderable share of familiarity and fellowship. These companions hadbeen employed in smoking a social pipe at an alehouse in theneighbourhood, when the knight made his excursion; and returning to thehouse about supper-time, found Mr. Clarke in waiting.
The young lawyer was alarmed when he heard the hour of ten, withoutseeing our adventurer, who had been used to be extremely regular in hiseconomy; and the captain and he supped in profound silence. Finding,upon inquiry among the servants, that the knight went out abruptly, inconsequence of having received a billet, Tom began to be visited with theapprehension of a duel, and sat the best part of the night by his uncle,sweating with the expectation of seeing our hero brought home abreathless corpse. But no tidings of him arriving, he, about two in themorning, repaired to his own lodging, resolved to publish a descriptionof Sir Launcelot in the newspapers, if he should not appear next day.
Crowe did not pass the time without uneasiness. He was extremelyconcerned at the thought of some mischief having befallen his friend andpatron; and he was terrified with the apprehensions, that, in case SirLauncelot was murdered, his spirit might come and give him notice of hisfate. Now he had an insuperable aversion to all correspondence with thedead; and taking it for granted that the spirit of his departed friendcould not appear to him except when he should be alone, and a-bed in thedark, he determined to pass the remainder of the night without going tobed. For this purpose, his first care was to visit the garret, in whichTimothy Crabshaw lay fast asleep, snoring with his mouth wide open. Himthe captain with difficulty roused, by dint of promising to regale himwith a bowl of rum punch in the kitchen, where the fire, which had beenextinguished, was soon rekindled. The ingredients were fetched from apublic-house in the neighbourhood; for the captain was too proud to usehis interest in the knight's family, especially at these hours, when allthe rest of the servants had retired to their repose; and he and Timothydrank together until daybreak, the conversation turning upon hobgoblins,and God's revenge against murder.
The cookmaid lay in a little apartment contiguous to the kitchen; andwhether disturbed by these horrible tales of apparitions, or titillatedby the savoury steams that issued from the punch-bowl, she made a virtueof necessity, or appetite, and dressing herself in the dark, suddenlyappeared before them to the no small perturbation of both. Timothy, inparticular, was so startled, that, in his endeavours to make a hastyretreat towards the chimney-corner, he overturned the table; the liquorwas spilt, but the bowl was saved by falling on a heap of ashes. Mrs.Cook having reprimanded him for his foolish fear, declared, she had gotup betimes, in order to scour her saucepans; and the captain proposed tohave the bowl replenished, if materials could be procured. Thisdifficulty was overcome by Crabshaw; and they sat down with their newassociate to discuss the second edition.
The knight's sudden disappearing being brought upon the carpet, theirfemale companion gave it as her opinion, that nothing would be so likelyto bring this affair to light, as going to a cunning man, whom she hadlately consulted about a silver spoon that was mislaid, and who told herall the things that she ever did, and ever would happen to her throughthe whole course of her life.
Her two companions pricked up their ears at this intelligence; and Croweasked if the spoon had been found. She answered in the affirmative; andsaid the cunning man described to a hair the person that should be hertrue lover, and her wedded husband; that he was a seafaring man; that hewas pretty well stricken in years--a little passionate or so; and that hewent with his fingers clinched like, as it were. The captain began tosweat at this description, and mechanically thrust his hands into hispockets; while Crabshaw pointing to him, told her he believed she had gotthe right sow by the ear. Crowe grumbled, that mayhap for all that heshould not be brought up by such a grappling neither. Then he asked ifthis cunning man dealt with the devil, declaring, in that case, he wouldkeep clear of him; for why? because he must have sold himself to OldScratch; and, being a servant of the devil, how could he be a goodsubject to his majesty? Mrs. Cook assured him, the conjurer was a goodChristian; and that he gained all his knowledge by conversing with thestars and planets. Thus satisfied, the two friends resolved to consulthim as soon as it should be light; and being directed to the place of hishabitation, set out for it by seven in the morning.
They found the house forsaken, and had already reached the end of thelane in their return, when they were accosted by an old woman, who gavethem to understand, that if they had occasion for the advice of afortune-teller, as she did suppose they had, from their stopping at thehouse where Dr. Grubble lived, she would conduct them to a person of muchmore eminence in that profession; at the same time she informed them,that the said Grubble had been lately sent to Bridewell; a circumstancewhich, with all his art, he had not been able to foresee. The captain,without any scruple, put himself and his companion under convoy of thisbeldame, who, through many windings and turnings, brought them to thedoor of a ruinous house, standing in a blind alley; which door havingopened with a key drawn from her pocket, she introduced them into aparlour, where they saw no other furniture than a naked bench, and somefrightful figures on the bare walls, drawn or rather scrawled withcharcoal.
Here she left them locked in, until she should give the doctor notice oftheir arrival; and they amused themselves with decyphering thesecharacters and hieroglyphics. The first figure that engaged theirattention was that of a man hanging upon a gibbet, which both consideredas an unfavourable omen, and each endeavoured to avert from his ownperson. Crabshaw observed, that the figure so suspended was clothed in asailor's jacket and trowsers; a truth which the captain could not deny,but, on the other hand, he affirmed, that the said figure exhibited thevery nose and chin of Timothy, together with the hump on one shoulder. Awarm dispute ensued, and being maintained with much acrimoniousaltercation, might have dissolved the new-cemented friendship of thosetwo originals, had it not been interrupted by the old sibyl, who, cominginto the parlour, intimated that the doctor waited for them above. Shelikewise told them, that he never admitted more than one at a time. Thishint occasioned a fresh contest. The captain insisted upon Crabshaw'smaking sail a-head, in order t
o look out afore; but Timothy persisted inrefusing this honour, declaring he did not pretend to lead, but he wouldfollow, as in duty bound. The old gentlewoman abridged the ceremony byleading out Crabshaw with one hand, and locking up Crowe with the other.
The former was dragged upstairs like a bear to the stake, not withoutreluctance and terror, which did not at all abate at sight of theconjurer, with whom he was immediately shut up by his conductress, aftershe had told him in a whisper, that he must deposit a shilling in alittle black coffin, supported by a human skull and thigh-bones crossed,on a stool covered with black baize, that stood in one corner of theapartment. The squire, having made this offer with fear and trembling,ventured to survey the objects around him, which were very wellcalculated to augment his confusion. He saw divers skeletons hung by thehead, the stuffed skin of a young alligator, a calf with two heads, andseveral snakes suspended from the ceiling, with the jaws of a shark, anda starved weasel. On another funeral table he beheld two spheres,between which lay a book open, exhibiting outlandish characters, andmathematical diagrams. On one side stood an ink-standish with paper; andbehind this desk appeared the conjurer himself, in sable vestments, hishead so overshadowed with hair, that, far from contemplating hisfeatures, Timothy could distinguish nothing but a long white beard,which, for aught he knew, might have belonged to a four-legged goat, aswell as to a two-legged astrologer.
This apparition, which the squire did not eye without manifestdiscomposure, extending a white wand, made certain evolutions over thehead of Timothy, and having muttered an ejaculation, commanded him, in ahollow tone, to come forward and declare his name. Crabshaw, thusadjured, advanced to the altar; and, whether from design, or (which ismore probable) from confusion, answered, "Samuel Crowe." The conjurertaking up the pen, and making a few scratches on the paper, exclaimed, ina terrific accent, "How! miscreant! attempt to impose upon the stars?--You look more like a crab than a crow, and was born under the sign ofCancer." The squire, almost annihilated by this exclamation, fell uponhis knees, crying, "I pray yaw, my lord conjurer's worship, pardon myignorance, and down't go to baind me over to the Red Sea like--I'se apoor Yorkshire tyke, and would no more cheat the stars, than I'd cheat myown vather, as the saying is--a must be a good hand at trapping, thatcatches the stars a napping--but as your honour's worship observed, myname is Tim Crabshaw, of the East Raiding, groom and squair to SirLauncelot Greaves, baron knaight, and arrant-knaight, who ran mad for awench, as your worship's conjuration well knoweth. The person below isCaptain Crowe; and we coom by Margery Cook's recommendation, to seekafter my master, who is gone away, or made away, the Lord he knows howand where."
Here he was interrupted by the conjurer, who exhorted him to sit down andcompose himself till he should cast a figure; then he scrawled the paper,and waving his wand, repeated abundance of gibberish concerning thenumber, the names, the houses, and revolutions of the planets, with theirconjunctions, oppositions, signs, circles; cycles, trines, and trigons.When he perceived that this artifice had its proper effect in disturbingthe brain of Crabshaw, he proceeded to tell him from the stars, that hisname was Crabshaw, or Crabscaw; that he was born in the East Riding ofYorkshire, of poor, yet honest parents, and had some skill in horses; andthat he served a gentleman whose name began with the letter G--, whichgentleman had run mad for love, and left his family; but whether he wouldreturn alive or dead, the stars had not yet determined.
Poor Timothy was thunderstruck to find the conjurer acquainted with allthese circumstances, and begged to know if he might be so bauld as to axa question or two about his own fortune. The astrologer pointing to thelittle coffin, our squire understood the hint, and deposited anothershilling. The sage had recourse to his book, erected another scheme,performed once more his airy evolutions with the wand, and having recitedanother mystical preamble, expounded the book of fate in these words:"You shall neither die by war nor water, by hunger or by thirst, nor bebrought to the grave by old age or distemper; but, let me see--ay, thestars will have it so--you shall be--exalted--hah!--ay, that is--hangedfor horse-stealing."--"O good my lord conjurer!" roared the squire, "I'das lief give forty shillings as be hanged."--"Peace, sirrah!" cried theother; "would you contradict or reverse the immutable decrees of fate?Hanging is your destiny, and hanged you shall be--and comfort yourselfwith the reflection, that as you are not the first, so neither will yoube the last to swing on Tyburn tree." This comfortable assurancecomposed the mind of Timothy, and in a great measure reconciled him tothe prediction. He now proceeded in a whining tone, to ask whether heshould suffer for the first fact; whether it would be for a horse or amare, and of what colour, that he might know when his hour was come. Theconjurer gravely answered, that he would steal a dappled gelding on aWednesday, be cast at the Old Bailey on Thursday, and suffer on a Friday;and he strenuously recommended it to him to appear in the cart with anosegay in one hand, and the Whole Duty of Man in the other. "But if incase it should be in the winter," said the squire, "when a nosegay can'tbe had?"--"Why, then," replied the conjurer, "an orange will do as well."
These material points being adjusted to the entire satisfaction ofTimothy, he declared he would bestow another shilling to know the fortuneof an old companion, who truly did not deserve so much at his hands, buthe could not help loving him better than e'er a friend he had in theworld. So saying, he dropped a third offering in the coffin, and desiredto know the fate of his horse Gilbert. The astrologer having againconsulted his art, pronounced that Gilbert would die of the staggers, andhis carcase be given to the hounds; a sentence which made a much deeperimpression upon Crabshaw's mind, than did the prediction of his ownuntimely and disgraceful fate. He shed a plenteous shower of tears, andhis grief broke forth in some passionate expressions of tenderness. Atlength he told the astrologer he would go and send up the captain, whowanted to consult him about Margery Cook, because as how she had informedhim that Dr. Grubble had described just such another man as the captainfor her true love; and he had no great stomach to the match, if so be asthe stars were not bent upon their coming together.
Accordingly the squire being dismissed by the conjurer, descended to theparlour with a rueful length of face, which being perceived by thecaptain, he demanded, "What cheer, ho?" with some signs of apprehension.Crabshaw making no return to this salute, he asked if the conjurer hadtaken an observation, and told him anything. Then the other replied, hehad told him more than he desired to know. "Why, an that be the case,"said the seaman, "I have no occasion to go aloft this trip, brother."
This evasion would not serve his turn. Old Tisiphone was at hand, andled him up growling into the hall of audience, which he did not examinewithout trepidation. Having been directed to the coffin, where hepresented half a crown, in hope of rendering the fates more propitious,the usual ceremony was performed, and the doctor addressed him in thesewords: "Approach, Raven." The captain advancing, "You an't muchmistaken, brother," said he, "heave your eye into the binnacle, and boxyour compass, you'll find I'm a Crowe, not a Raven, thof indeed they beboth fowls of a feather, as the saying is."--"I know it," cried theconjurer, "thou art a northern crow,--a sea-crow; not a crow of prey, buta crow to be preyed upon;--a crow to be plucked,--to be flayed,--to bebasted,--to be broiled by Margery upon the gridiron of matrimony." Thenovice changing colour at this denunciation, "I do understand yoursignals, brother," said he, "and if it be set down in the log-book offate that we must grapple, why then 'ware timbers. But as I know how theland lies, d'ye see, and the current of my inclination sets me off, Ishall haul up close to the wind, and mayhap we shall clear Cape Margery.But howsomever, we shall leave that reef in the fore top-sail.--I wasbound upon another voyage, d'ye see--to look and to see, and to know ifso be as how I could pick up any intelligence along shore concerning myfriend Sir Launcelot, who slipped his cable last night, and has lostcompany, d'ye see."
"What!" exclaimed the cunning man; "art thou a crow, and canst not smellcarrion? If thou wouldst grieve for Greaves, behold his naked carcas
elies unburied, to feed the kites, the crows, the gulls, the rooks, andravens."--"What! broach'd to?" "Dead as a boil'd lobster."--"Odd'sheart, friend, these are the heaviest tidings I have heard these sevenlong years--there must have been deadly odds when he lowered histop-sails--smite my eyes! I had rather the Mufti had foundered at sea,with myself and all my generation on board--well fare thy soul, flower ofthe world! had honest Sam Crowe been within hail--but what signifiespalavering?" Here the tears of unaffected sorrow flowed plentifully downthe furrows of the seaman's cheeks;--then his grief giving way to hisindignation, "Hark ye, brother conjurer," said he, "you can spy foulweather before it comes, d--n your eyes! why did not you give us warningof this here squall? B--st my limbs! I'll make you give an account ofthis here d--ned, horrid, confounded murder, d'ye see--mayhap youyourself was concerned, d'ye see.--For my own part, brother, I put mytrust in God, and steer by the compass, and I value not your paw-wawingand your conjuration of a rope's end, d'ye see."
The conjurer was by no means pleased, either with the matter or themanner of this address. He therefore began to soothe the captain'scholer, by representing that he did not pretend to omniscience, which wasthe attribute of God alone; that human art was fallible and imperfect;and all that it could perform was to discover certain partialcircumstances of any particular object to which its inquiries weredirected. That being questioned by the other man concerning the cause ofhis master's disappearing, he had exercised his skill upon the subject,and found reason to believe that Sir Launcelot was assassinated; that heshould think himself happy in being the instrument of bringing themurderers to justice, though he foresaw they would of themselves save himthat trouble; for they would quarrel about dividing the spoil, and onewould give information against the other.
The prospect of this satisfaction appeased the resentment, and, in somemeasure, mitigated the grief of Captain Crowe, who took his leave withoutmuch ceremony; and, being joined by Crabshaw, proceeded with a heavyheart to the house of Sir Launcelot, where they found the domestics atbreakfast, without exhibiting the least symptom of concern for theirabsent master. Crowe had been wise enough to conceal from Crabshaw whathe had learned of the knight's fate. This fatal intelligence he reservedfor the ear of his nephew, Mr. Clarke, who did not fail to attend him inthe forenoon.
As for the squire, he did nothing but ruminate in rueful silence upon thedappled gelding, the nosegay, and the predicted fate of Gilbert. Him heforthwith visited in the stable, and saluted with the kiss of peace.Then he bemoaned his fortune with tears, and by the sound of his ownlamentation was lulled asleep among the litter.