Barnaby Rudge: A Tale of the Riots of 'Eighty

by Charles Dickens

  Chapter 23

  Twilight had given place to night some hours, and it was high noonin those quarters of the town in which 'the world' condescended todwell--the world being then, as now, of very limited dimensions andeasily lodged--when Mr Chester reclined upon a sofa in his dressing-roomin the Temple, entertaining himself with a book.

  He was dressing, as it seemed, by easy stages, and having performed halfthe journey was taking a long rest. Completely attired as to his legsand feet in the trimmest fashion of the day, he had yet the remainder ofhis toilet to perform. The coat was stretched, like a refined scarecrow,on its separate horse; the waistcoat was displayed to the bestadvantage; the various ornamental articles of dress were severally setout in most alluring order; and yet he lay dangling his legs between thesofa and the ground, as intent upon his book as if there were nothingbut bed before him.

  'Upon my honour,' he said, at length raising his eyes to the ceilingwith the air of a man who was reflecting seriously on what he hadread; 'upon my honour, the most masterly composition, the most delicatethoughts, the finest code of morality, and the most gentlemanlysentiments in the universe! Ah Ned, Ned, if you would but form your mindby such precepts, we should have but one common feeling on every subjectthat could possibly arise between us!'

  This apostrophe was addressed, like the rest of his remarks, to emptyair: for Edward was not present, and the father was quite alone.

  'My Lord Chesterfield,' he said, pressing his hand tenderly upon thebook as he laid it down, 'if I could but have profited by your geniussoon enough to have formed my son on the model you have left to allwise fathers, both he and I would have been rich men. Shakespeare wasundoubtedly very fine in his way; Milton good, though prosy; Lord Bacondeep, and decidedly knowing; but the writer who should be his country'spride, is my Lord Chesterfield.'

  He became thoughtful again, and the toothpick was in requisition.

  'I thought I was tolerably accomplished as a man of the world,' hecontinued, 'I flattered myself that I was pretty well versed in allthose little arts and graces which distinguish men of the world fromboors and peasants, and separate their character from those intenselyvulgar sentiments which are called the national character. Apart fromany natural prepossession in my own favour, I believed I was. Still, inevery page of this enlightened writer, I find some captivating hypocrisywhich has never occurred to me before, or some superlative piece ofselfishness to which I was utterly a stranger. I should quite blush formyself before this stupendous creature, if remembering his precepts, onemight blush at anything. An amazing man! a nobleman indeed! any King orQueen may make a Lord, but only the Devil himself--and the Graces--canmake a Chesterfield.'

  Men who are thoroughly false and hollow, seldom try to hide those vicesfrom themselves; and yet in the very act of avowing them, they lay claimto the virtues they feign most to despise. 'For,' say they, 'this ishonesty, this is truth. All mankind are like us, but they have not thecandour to avow it.' The more they affect to deny the existence of anysincerity in the world, the more they would be thought to possess it inits boldest shape; and this is an unconscious compliment to Truth on thepart of these philosophers, which will turn the laugh against them tothe Day of Judgment.

  Mr Chester, having extolled his favourite author, as above recited,took up the book again in the excess of his admiration and was composinghimself for a further perusal of its sublime morality, when he wasdisturbed by a noise at the outer door; occasioned as it seemed by theendeavours of his servant to obstruct the entrance of some unwelcomevisitor.

  'A late hour for an importunate creditor,' he said, raising his eyebrowswith as indolent an expression of wonder as if the noise were in thestreet, and one with which he had not the smallest possible concern.'Much after their accustomed time. The usual pretence I suppose. Nodoubt a heavy payment to make up tomorrow. Poor fellow, he loses time,and time is money as the good proverb says--I never found it out though.Well. What now? You know I am not at home.'

  'A man, sir,' replied the servant, who was to the full as cool andnegligent in his way as his master, 'has brought home the riding-whipyou lost the other day. I told him you were out, but he said he was towait while I brought it in, and wouldn't go till I did.'

  'He was quite right,' returned his master, 'and you're a blockhead,possessing no judgment or discretion whatever. Tell him to come in, andsee that he rubs his shoes for exactly five minutes first.'

  The man laid the whip on a chair, and withdrew. The master, who had onlyheard his foot upon the ground and had not taken the trouble to turnround and look at him, shut his book, and pursued the train of ideas hisentrance had disturbed.

  'If time were money,' he said, handling his snuff-box, 'I would compoundwith my creditors, and give them--let me see--how much a day? There'smy nap after dinner--an hour--they're extremely welcome to that, and tomake the most of it. In the morning, between my breakfast and thepaper, I could spare them another hour; in the evening before dinnersay another. Three hours a day. They might pay themselves in calls, withinterest, in twelve months. I think I shall propose it to them. Ah, mycentaur, are you there?'

  'Here I am,' replied Hugh, striding in, followed by a dog, as rough andsullen as himself; 'and trouble enough I've had to get here. What do youask me to come for, and keep me out when I DO come?'

  'My good fellow,' returned the other, raising his head a little from thecushion and carelessly surveying him from top to toe, 'I am delighted tosee you, and to have, in your being here, the very best proof that youare not kept out. How are you?'

  'I'm well enough,' said Hugh impatiently.

  'You look a perfect marvel of health. Sit down.'

  'I'd rather stand,' said Hugh.

  'Please yourself my good fellow,' returned Mr Chester rising, slowlypulling off the loose robe he wore, and sitting down before thedressing-glass. 'Please yourself by all means.'

  Having said this in the politest and blandest tone possible, he went ondressing, and took no further notice of his guest, who stood in the samespot as uncertain what to do next, eyeing him sulkily from time to time.

  'Are you going to speak to me, master?' he said, after a long silence.

  'My worthy creature,' returned Mr Chester, 'you are a little ruffled andout of humour. I'll wait till you're quite yourself again. I am in nohurry.'

  This behaviour had its intended effect. It humbled and abashed the man,and made him still more irresolute and uncertain. Hard words he couldhave returned, violence he would have repaid with interest; but thiscool, complacent, contemptuous, self-possessed reception, caused him tofeel his inferiority more completely than the most elaborate arguments.Everything contributed to this effect. His own rough speech, contrastedwith the soft persuasive accents of the other; his rude bearing, andMr Chester's polished manner; the disorder and negligence of hisragged dress, and the elegant attire he saw before him; with all theunaccustomed luxuries and comforts of the room, and the silence thatgave him leisure to observe these things, and feel how ill at ease theymade him; all these influences, which have too often some effect ontutored minds and become of almost resistless power when brought to bearon such a mind as his, quelled Hugh completely. He moved by little andlittle nearer to Mr Chester's chair, and glancing over his shoulderat the reflection of his face in the glass, as if seeking for someencouragement in its expression, said at length, with a rough attempt atconciliation,

  'ARE you going to speak to me, master, or am I to go away?'

  'Speak you,' said Mr Chester, 'speak you, good fellow. I have spoken,have I not? I am waiting for you.'

  'Why, look'ee, sir,' returned Hugh with increased embarrassment, 'am Ithe man that you privately left your whip with before you rode away fromthe Maypole, and told to bring it back whenever he might want to see youon a certain subject?'

  'No doubt the same, or you have a twin brother,' said Mr Chester,glancing at the reflection of his anxious face; 'which is not probable,I should say.'

  'Then I have come, sir,' said Hugh, 'and I
have brought it back, andsomething else along with it. A letter, sir, it is, that I took fromthe person who had charge of it.' As he spoke, he laid upon thedressing-table, Dolly's lost epistle. The very letter that had cost herso much trouble.

  'Did you obtain this by force, my good fellow?' said Mr Chester, castinghis eye upon it without the least perceptible surprise or pleasure.

  'Not quite,' said Hugh. 'Partly.'

  'Who was the messenger from whom you took it?'

  'A woman. One Varden's daughter.'

  'Oh indeed!' said Mr Chester gaily. 'What else did you take from her?'

  'What else?'

  'Yes,' said the other, in a drawling manner, for he was fixing a verysmall patch of sticking plaster on a very small pimple near the cornerof his mouth. 'What else?'

  'Well a kiss,' replied Hugh, after some hesitation.

  'And what else?'

  'Nothing.'

  'I think,' said Mr Chester, in the same easy tone, and smiling twice orthrice to try if the patch adhered--'I think there was something else.I have heard a trifle of jewellery spoken of--a mere trifle--a thingof such little value, indeed, that you may have forgotten it. Do youremember anything of the kind--such as a bracelet now, for instance?'

  Hugh with a muttered oath thrust his hand into his breast, and drawingthe bracelet forth, wrapped in a scrap of hay, was about to lay it onthe table likewise, when his patron stopped his hand and bade him put itup again.

  'You took that for yourself my excellent friend,' he said, 'and may keepit. I am neither a thief nor a receiver. Don't show it to me. You hadbetter hide it again, and lose no time. Don't let me see where you putit either,' he added, turning away his head.

  'You're not a receiver!' said Hugh bluntly, despite the increasing awein which he held him. 'What do you call THAT, master?' striking theletter with his heavy hand.

  'I call that quite another thing,' said Mr Chester coolly. 'I shallprove it presently, as you will see. You are thirsty, I suppose?'

  Hugh drew his sleeve across his lips, and gruffly answered yes.

  'Step to that closet and bring me a bottle you will see there, and aglass.'

  He obeyed. His patron followed him with his eyes, and when his back wasturned, smiled as he had never done when he stood beside the mirror.On his return he filled the glass, and bade him drink. That dramdespatched, he poured him out another, and another.

  'How many can you bear?' he said, filling the glass again.

  'As many as you like to give me. Pour on. Fill high. A bumper with abead in the middle! Give me enough of this,' he added, as he tossed itdown his hairy throat, 'and I'll do murder if you ask me!'

  'As I don't mean to ask you, and you might possibly do it withoutbeing invited if you went on much further,' said Mr Chester with greatcomposure, 'we will stop, if agreeable to you, my good friend, at thenext glass. You were drinking before you came here.'

  'I always am when I can get it,' cried Hugh boisterously, waving theempty glass above his head, and throwing himself into a rude dancingattitude. 'I always am. Why not? Ha ha ha! What's so good to me as this?What ever has been? What else has kept away the cold on bitter nights,and driven hunger off in starving times? What else has given me thestrength and courage of a man, when men would have left me to die, apuny child? I should never have had a man's heart but for this. Ishould have died in a ditch. Where's he who when I was a weak and sicklywretch, with trembling legs and fading sight, bade me cheer up, as thisdid? I never knew him; not I. I drink to the drink, master. Ha ha ha!'

  'You are an exceedingly cheerful young man,' said Mr Chester, puttingon his cravat with great deliberation, and slightly moving his headfrom side to side to settle his chin in its proper place. 'Quite a booncompanion.'

  'Do you see this hand, master,' said Hugh, 'and this arm?' baring thebrawny limb to the elbow. 'It was once mere skin and bone, and wouldhave been dust in some poor churchyard by this time, but for the drink.'

  'You may cover it,' said Mr Chester, 'it's sufficiently real in yoursleeve.'

  'I should never have been spirited up to take a kiss from the proudlittle beauty, master, but for the drink,' cried Hugh. 'Ha ha ha! It wasa good one. As sweet as honeysuckle, I warrant you. I thank the drinkfor it. I'll drink to the drink again, master. Fill me one more. Come.One more!'

  'You are such a promising fellow,' said his patron, putting on hiswaistcoat with great nicety, and taking no heed of this request, 'thatI must caution you against having too many impulses from the drink, andgetting hung before your time. What's your age?'

  'I don't know.'

  'At any rate,' said Mr Chester, 'you are young enough to escape whatI may call a natural death for some years to come. How can you trustyourself in my hands on so short an acquaintance, with a halter roundyour neck? What a confiding nature yours must be!'

  Hugh fell back a pace or two and surveyed him with a look of mingledterror, indignation, and surprise. Regarding himself in the glass withthe same complacency as before, and speaking as smoothly as if he werediscussing some pleasant chit-chat of the town, his patron went on:

  'Robbery on the king's highway, my young friend, is a very dangerous andticklish occupation. It is pleasant, I have no doubt, while it lasts;but like many other pleasures in this transitory world, it seldom lastslong. And really if in the ingenuousness of youth, you open your heartso readily on the subject, I am afraid your career will be an extremelyshort one.'

  'How's this?' said Hugh. 'What do you talk of master? Who was it set meon?'

  'Who?' said Mr Chester, wheeling sharply round, and looking full at himfor the first time. 'I didn't hear you. Who was it?'

  Hugh faltered, and muttered something which was not audible.

  'Who was it? I am curious to know,' said Mr Chester, with surpassingaffability. 'Some rustic beauty perhaps? But be cautious, my goodfriend. They are not always to be trusted. Do take my advice now, and becareful of yourself.' With these words he turned to the glass again, andwent on with his toilet.

  Hugh would have answered him that he, the questioner himself had set himon, but the words stuck in his throat. The consummate art with which hispatron had led him to this point, and managed the whole conversation,perfectly baffled him. He did not doubt that if he had made the retortwhich was on his lips when Mr Chester turned round and questioned himso keenly, he would straightway have given him into custody and had himdragged before a justice with the stolen property upon him; in whichcase it was as certain he would have been hung as it was that he hadbeen born. The ascendency which it was the purpose of the man of theworld to establish over this savage instrument, was gained from thattime. Hugh's submission was complete. He dreaded him beyond description;and felt that accident and artifice had spun a web about him, which at atouch from such a master-hand as his, would bind him to the gallows.

  With these thoughts passing through his mind, and yet wondering at thevery same time how he who came there rioting in the confidence of thisman (as he thought), should be so soon and so thoroughly subdued, Hughstood cowering before him, regarding him uneasily from time to time,while he finished dressing. When he had done so, he took up theletter, broke the seal, and throwing himself back in his chair, read itleisurely through.

  'Very neatly worded upon my life! Quite a woman's letter, full of whatpeople call tenderness, and disinterestedness, and heart, and all thatsort of thing!'

  As he spoke, he twisted it up, and glancing lazily round at Hugh asthough he would say 'You see this?' held it in the flame of the candle.When it was in a full blaze, he tossed it into the grate, and there itsmouldered away.

  'It was directed to my son,' he said, turning to Hugh, 'and you didquite right to bring it here. I opened it on my own responsibility, andyou see what I have done with it. Take this, for your trouble.'

  Hugh stepped forward to receive the piece of money he held out to him.As he put it in his hand, he added:

  'If you should happen to find anything else of this sort, or to pickup any kind of information y
ou may think I would like to have, bring ithere, will you, my good fellow?'

  This was said with a smile which implied--or Hugh thought it did--'failto do so at your peril!' He answered that he would.

  'And don't,' said his patron, with an air of the very kindest patronage,'don't be at all downcast or uneasy respecting that little rashness wehave been speaking of. Your neck is as safe in my hands, my good fellow,as though a baby's fingers clasped it, I assure you.--Take anotherglass. You are quieter now.'

  Hugh accepted it from his hand, and looking stealthily at his smilingface, drank the contents in silence.

  'Don't you--ha, ha!--don't you drink to the drink any more?' said MrChester, in his most winning manner.

  'To you, sir,' was the sullen answer, with something approaching to abow. 'I drink to you.'

  'Thank you. God bless you. By the bye, what is your name, my good soul?You are called Hugh, I know, of course--your other name?'

  'I have no other name.'

  'A very strange fellow! Do you mean that you never knew one, or that youdon't choose to tell it? Which?'

  'I'd tell it if I could,' said Hugh, quickly. 'I can't. I have beenalways called Hugh; nothing more. I never knew, nor saw, nor thoughtabout a father; and I was a boy of six--that's not very old--when theyhung my mother up at Tyburn for a couple of thousand men to stare at.They might have let her live. She was poor enough.'

  'How very sad!' exclaimed his patron, with a condescending smile. 'Ihave no doubt she was an exceedingly fine woman.'

  'You see that dog of mine?' said Hugh, abruptly.

  'Faithful, I dare say?' rejoined his patron, looking at him through hisglass; 'and immensely clever? Virtuous and gifted animals, whether manor beast, always are so very hideous.'

  'Such a dog as that, and one of the same breed, was the only livingthing except me that howled that day,' said Hugh. 'Out of the twothousand odd--there was a larger crowd for its being a woman--the dogand I alone had any pity. If he'd have been a man, he'd have beenglad to be quit of her, for she had been forced to keep him lean andhalf-starved; but being a dog, and not having a man's sense, he wassorry.'

  'It was dull of the brute, certainly,' said Mr Chester, 'and very like abrute.'

  Hugh made no rejoinder, but whistling to his dog, who sprung up at thesound and came jumping and sporting about him, bade his sympathisingfriend good night.

  'Good night,' he returned. 'Remember; you're safe with me--quite safe. Solong as you deserve it, my good fellow, as I hope you always will, youhave a friend in me, on whose silence you may rely. Now do be careful ofyourself, pray do, and consider what jeopardy you might have stood in.Good night! bless you!'

  Hugh truckled before the hidden meaning of these words as much as sucha being could, and crept out of the door so submissively andsubserviently--with an air, in short, so different from that with whichhe had entered--that his patron on being left alone, smiled more thanever.

  'And yet,' he said, as he took a pinch of snuff, 'I do not like theirhaving hanged his mother. The fellow has a fine eye, and I am sure shewas handsome. But very probably she was coarse--red-nosed perhaps, andhad clumsy feet. Aye, it was all for the best, no doubt.'

  With this comforting reflection, he put on his coat, took a farewellglance at the glass, and summoned his man, who promptly attended,followed by a chair and its two bearers.

  'Foh!' said Mr Chester. 'The very atmosphere that centaur has breathed,seems tainted with the cart and ladder. Here, Peak. Bring some scent andsprinkle the floor; and take away the chair he sat upon, and air it; anddash a little of that mixture upon me. I am stifled!'

  The man obeyed; and the room and its master being both purified, nothingremained for Mr Chester but to demand his hat, to fold it jauntily underhis arm, to take his seat in the chair and be carried off; humming afashionable tune.