CHAPTER XIX
On my way to my chamber I met the innkeeper and casually asked himafter Paddy and Jem. He said that he would send to have word of themand inform me as soon as possible. Later a drawer came to my door andtold me that Paddy and Jem, with three men-servants of gentlemensleeping at the inn, had sallied out to a mug-house.
"Mug-house?" said I. "What in the devil's name is a mug-house?"
"Mug-house, sir?" said the man, staring. "Mug-house? Why, sir,'tis--'tis a form of amusement, sir."
"It is, is it?" said I. "Very good. And does any one here know to whatmug-house they went?"
"The 'Red Slipper,' I think, sir," said the man.
"And how do I get to it?" said I.
"Oh, sir," he cried, "'tis impossible!"
"Is it?" said I. "And why is it? The innkeeper said the same to me,and I would like to hear all the reasons."
"Sir," said the man, "when it becometh dark in London there walkabroad many men of evil minds who are no respecters of persons, butfall upon whomsoever they, may, beating them sorely, having no regardfor that part of the Holy Book in which it is written--"
"Let go," said I. "I see what you mean." I then bade him get for me astout lad with a cudgel and a lantern and a knowledge of thewhereabouts of the "Red Slipper."
I, with the stout lad, had not been long in the street before Iunderstood what the landlord and the waiter had meant. In fact we werescarce out of the door before the man was menacing with his cudgel twohuman vultures who slunk upon us out of the shadow. I saw their pale,wicked, snarling faces in the glow of the lantern.
A little later a great shindy broke out in the darkness, and I heardvoices calling loudly for a rally in the name of some guild orsociety. I moved closer, but I could make out little save that it wasa very pretty fight in which a company of good citizens were trying toput to flight a band of roughs and law-breakers. There was a merryrattling of sticks. Soon enough, answering shouts could be heard fromsome of the houses, and with a great slamming of doors men rushed outto do battle for the peace of the great city. Meanwhile all the highwindows had been filled with night-capped heads, and some of thesepeople even went so far as to pour water down upon the combatants.They also sent down cat-calls and phrases of witty advice. The sticksclattered together furiously; once a man with a bloody face staggeredpast us; he seemed to have been whacked directly on the ear by someuneducated person. It was as fine a shindy as one could hope towitness, and I was deeply interested.
Then suddenly a man called out hoarsely that he had beenstabbed--murdered. There were yells from the street and screams fromthe windows. My lantern-bearer plucked me madly by the sleeve. Iunderstood him, and we hastily left the neighbourhood.
I may tell now what had happened and what followed this affair of thenight. A worthy citizen had been stabbed to death indeed. Afterfurther skirmishes his comrade citizens had taken several wretchesinto custody. They were tried for the murder and all acquitted saveone. Of this latter it was proven that the brawl had started throughhis attempt to gain the purse of a passing citizen, and forthwith hewas sentenced to be hanged for murder. His companion rascals were sentto prison for long terms on the expectation that one of them reallymight have been the murderer.
We passed into another street, where each well-lighted window framedone or more painted hussies who called out in jocular obscenity, butwhen we marched stiffly on without replying their manner changed, andthey delivered at us volley after volley of language incredibly foul.There were only two of these creatures who paid no heed, and theirindifference to us was due to the fact that they were deeply engagedin a duel of words, exchanging the most frightful, blood-curdlingepithets. Confident drunken men jostled us from time to time, andfrequently I could see small, ashy-faced, ancient-eyed youths dodginghere and there with food and wine. My lantern-bearer told me that thestreet was not quite awake; it was waiting for the outpourings fromthe taverns and mug-houses. I bade him hurry me to the "Red Slipper"as soon as possible, for never have I had any stomach for these tawdryevils, fit as they are only for clerks and sailors.
We came at length to the creaking sign of the "Red Slipper." A greatnoise came from the place. A large company was roaring out a chorus.Without many words I was introduced into the room in which thedisturbance was proceeding. It was blue with smoke, and the thunderingchorus was still unfinished. I sank unnoticed into a quiet corner.
I was astonished at the appearance of the company. There were many menwho looked like venerable prelates, and many men who looked like theheads of old and noble houses. I laughed in my sleeve when Iremembered I had thought to find Paddy and Jem here. And at the sametime I saw them up near the head of the table, if it please you. Paddyhad his hand on the shoulder of a bishop, and Jem was telling sometale into the sympathetic ear of a marquis. At least this is the waymatters appeared to my stupefied sense.
The singing ceased, and a distinguished peer at my elbow resumed atalk which evidently had been broken by the chorus:
"And so the Duke spoke with somewhat more than his accustomed vigour,"said the distinguished peer.
My worst suspicions were confirmed. Here was a man talking of what hadbeen said by a duke. I cast my eye toward my happy pair of rogues andwondered how I could ever extricate them from their position.
Suddenly there was a loud pounding upon the table, and in the ensuingquiet the grave and dignified voice of the chairman could be heard:
"Gentlemen," he said, "we crave your attention to a song by Mr. JohnSnowden."
Whereupon my very own Jem Bottles arose amid a burst of applause, andbegan to sing a ballad which had been written in Bristol or Bath incelebration of the notorious scoundrel Jem Bottles.
Here I could see that if impudence could serve us we would not lacksuccess in England. The ballad was answered with wild cheers ofappreciation. It was the great thing of the evening. Jem wasstrenuously pressed to sing again, but he buried his face in his mugand modestly refused. However, they devoted themselves to his chorusand sang it over and over with immense delight. I had never imaginedthat the nobility were so free and easy.
During the excitement over Jem's ballad I stole forward to Paddy."Paddy," I whispered, "come out of this now. 'Tis no place for youhere among all these reverend fathers and gentlemen of title. Shame onyou!"
He saw my idea in a flash.
"Whist, sir," he answered. "There are being no reverend fathers orgentlemen of title here. They are all after being footmen and valets."
I was extremely vexed with myself. I had been in London only a briefspace; and Paddy had been in the city no longer. However, he hadalready managed his instruction so well that he could at once tell amember of the gentry from a servant. I admired Paddy's cleverness, butat the same time I felt a certain resentment against the prelates andnobles who had so imposed upon me.
But, to be truthful, I have never seen a finer display of manners.These menials could have put courtiers to the blush. And from time totime somebody spoke out loud and clear an opinion pilfered verbatimfrom his master. They seldom spoke their own thoughts in their ownway; they sent forth as their own whatever they could remember fromthe talk of their masters and other gentlemen. There was one man whoseemed to be the servant of some noted scholar, and when he spoke theothers were dumfounded into quiet.
"The loriot," said he with a learned frown, "is a bird. If it islooked upon by one who has the yellow jaundice, the bird straightwaydies, but the sick person becomes well instantly. 'Tis said thatlovage is used, but I would be luctuous to hear of anybody using thislothir weed, for 'tis no pentepharmacon, but a mere simple and notworth a caspatory."
This utterance fairly made their eyes bulge, and they sat in stunnedsilence. But I must say that there was one man who did not fear.
"Sir," said Paddy respectfully, but still with his own dignity, "Iwould be hearing more of this bird, and we all would be feelinghonoured for a short description."
"In color he is ningid," said the learned valet.
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p; "Bedad!" cried Paddy. "That's strange!"
"'Tis a question full of tenebrosity," remarked the other leaning backin his chair. "We poor scholars grow madarosis reflecting upon it.However, I may tell you that the bird is simous; yblent in thesunlight, but withal strenuous-eyed; its blood inclined tointumescence. However, I must be breviloquent, for I require anenneadecaterides to enumerate the true qualities of the loriot."
"By gor!" said Paddy, "I'll know that bird if I see him ten years fromnow. Thank you kindly, sir. But we would be late for breakfast if youtook the required time; and that's true for me."
Afterward I reflected that I had attended the meetings of twoscholarly bodies in this one evening, but for the life of me Icouldn't decide which knew the least.
The O'Ruddy: A Romance Page 19