CHAPTER VIII
A CHAPTER OF CHEATS
On the morrow I rose very contrite for the proneness of my mind towardspleasures, and calling to remembrance with an excessive sadness, thatprotestation of our bailiff's against stage-plays and ungodly shows.Indeed I began to fear lest Mr. Richard should prove altogether aperverter of my youth, and promised myself I would avoid his companyhenceforward, nor inquire any further after Campaspe and the rest.Which resolved upon, I felt joyfuller (as a man's recovered virtue dothgenerally induce that comfortable feeling) and took pleasure in thethought that I was this day to relieve the oppressed, and succour themthat were in prison: or at least one of them.
But all these salutary thoughts broke a-scatter, when, chancing to castan eye across the street, I saw my gallant that I had withstoodyesterday, again set in his barber's chair, where he indolentlyreclined; and the barber dancing before him like a second David withrazor for timbrel. An instant desire took me, to know who my lateadversary might be (so that in any future debate I might have a name toclap villain to) and bethought me of an easy way whereby to satisfymyself. Having patiently awaited his departure therefore, I stoledownstairs and over the lane; mounted to the barber's, three steps atonce, and was in his chair demanding to be shaved ere a man could tellthree score.
"Your worship does me a great honour," cried the antick fellow, "and Iwill dispatch your business in a trice," which he did, my beard being,I confess, no great thing as yet.
"Your house is well spoken of," I said carelessly, when he had done,and I stood cleansing my chin at the basin.
"It is well attended," he replied, bowing, "and that by the best."
"Tell me some that use it," I said in a meditative manner, "it may hapthat I know them."
"There is John a Nokes," replied the barber, with alacrity, "that ishost of the Chequers; but he comes hither no more. And there is Mr.Nicholas Lovel, that promised me he would come on Wednesday last,though indeed he failed so to do; and there is moreover the Master ofthe Worshipful Company of Painter Stainers whom I used to meet with attheir great hall in Trinity Lane."
"And him you shave," said I, seeing that he paused there.
"Nay, for he hath a singular great beard," he said, "and when he sitsin Council amidst his Company of the Painter Stainers there is noneappeareth more lofty and worshipful than he. I have been a serving manthere," he added with a conspicuous pride, "and worn their livery, sothat it behoveth me to speak well of them, and to pray for theircontinuance in prosperity."
"That is all as it should be," quoth I, "but for my question, goodmaster barber, I do not find you have answered it."
"Cry you mercy," said the little barber with an innocent air, "butmethought I had answered you full and fairly."
"Hath any come hither this morning," I demanded, "besides myself?"
"It is still very early, sir," he replied, rubbing his hands togetherthe while, "but I hope at noon, now, by the which hour as you know, aman's beard commenceth to prick sorely..."
"Hold!" I cried, "I speak not of your hopes, but of your performance.Have you shaved any man this day?"
"Oh, none, sir," he replied, as though it were a thing indecent, and Ishocked him.
"You lie," said I coolly, "for one went forth but now."
The barber: "Surely you mistake, sir ... but now I bethink me it was nodoubt my lord of Pembroke."
"So then my lord of Pembroke serves my lord of Pembroke, belike," Ianswered, laughing sourly, "and weareth his cast suits, as did he thatwent hence."
I never saw a man so taken aback, and all his graces drooped about himlike a sere garland.
"Come, sir," said I at length, in a great voice, for I was bothwrathful at this fetch, and feared something behind it, "who is thisblack-a-vised tall man in brave apparel, that you shave each morning?"
"Oh, good Mr. Cleeve," he cried out trembling, but got no further, forI had him by the collar.
"Thou hast my name pat enough," said I, very low, and shifted myfingers to his throat, which I must have held pretty tight, seeing hisface went black and his eyes started forth of it. "To the purpose," Iproceeded and released my grasp somewhat.
He wrested himself loose and stood away gasping.
"Who is the tall man of the narrowed eyes and black complexion?" Idemanded.
"I dare not tell," he whispered, and as it were shook that answer fromhis lips.
"He spies upon me, and uses thine house for that purpose," I said, andgathered certainty from the mere relation of my doubts. "But whereforedoth he so? That thou must tell me, master barber, and presently, elsewill I beat thee with thine own barber's staff."
I made as if to seize him again, but he backed off, howling.
"If you swear," he began, and seeing I paused, "you must swear by theBook," he said sharply, for I had squeezed his voice as thin as aknife; "and take what guilt of perjury should be mine in speaking."
I said I would vouchsafe not to reveal who it was that told me, butthat was the extent of my promise; for the rest, I went in danger of mylife, it seemed, or at least of my peace and quiet, which my absolutesilence would but tend to confirm and increase.
The barber appeared satisfied of the justice of this, and havingfetched out a Testament from a cupboard by the door, laid it open in myhand, but then again hesitated.
"This being so private a matter," he mumbled, "I will first bolt thedoor at the foot of the stair, and thereafter will let you into sogreat a secret"--he advanced his pinched and sallow face close to myown and let his voice fall so low that I could scarce hear him--"asecret so great that your blood shall run cold to hear it."
This coming so pat upon my suspicions, I promise you my blood ran coldat the sheer hint of it, and I suffered him to leave me and bolt thegreat door on the stair, in order to our more perfect privacy. Andbolt the door indeed he did, but upon the wrong side of it; himselffleeing away in an extremity of apprehension lest (I suppose) I shouldget at his pulpy fat neck again and strangle him outright: whichconsideration moved him to put the door betwixt us while there wastime; although I believe I should have burst it down despite its greatthickness had it not been that the haberdasher's 'prentices heard me,and opened it from without. But the barber was clean gone by that,with his yellow face and his fulsome big secret and the devil to boot.The fellow's name was Pentecost Soper (so many syllables to so slight aman), and I have never set eyes on him since.
In no very good humour I returned to the family of the Malts and in illcase to be spoken to. Yet was I obliged to attend how Madam Malt'sthird (or fourth) daughter came to spill the small beer at breakfastyesterday, and the history being interrupted at the least a score oftimes by laughter and denials and (from the infant) by woefullamentations, it fell out that I had concluded my meal while the talestill hung about the start, like an over-weighted galleon off alee-shore; until at length Madam Malt (an indifferent mariner)confessed herself at fault, crying--
"But there! I will tell you all another time, Mr. Denis. It is a raretale I warrant you, though Mistress Judith would have had me keep itsecret; as a maid must have her secret, since time was a week gone inGenesis."
A day that had begun thus, with two secrets so necessary to be divulgedas were the barber's and Mistress Judith's, was (had I known it) toissue in such horrid disclosures as were to change for me the wholecourse of my living, and indeed awhile to suspend upon a doubtfulbalance the very living itself. Consequent upon my promise to the oldattorney, I made haste to repair to his lodging as early as I judged itproper to do so, and therefore after breakfast, it lacking then alittle of nine o'clock, I put on my cloak and hat and set forth. Oneconsideration I had as I walked, which had weighed heavily upon mesince my last conference with him, and that was whether, and if sowhen, I should attempt to get speech of my uncle in prison. It seemedto me right, and indeed due both to my father and myself (looking tothe hardships of my journey directly across England) that he shouldboth know and thank us for the diligence we were using in
his behalf;and it was to come at some means whereby I might procure this I had inview, that I intended to speak with Mr. Skene, no less than to concludethat we had already put in motion.
'Twas a foggy and thick morning, the weather having suddenly in thenight passed from its extreme of cold into an opposite of mildness, sothat the snow was almost everywhere thawed, and the streets foul anddeep in mire. I was glad enough to turn out of Fleet Street, whereevery cart and passenger I met with left me more filthily besprent; sothat twice or thrice I was like to have drawn upon some peaceablecitizen that unawares had sent his vestige mud upon my new bosom. Sohastening into the Inn yard I traversed it and was soon at Mr. Skene'sdoor, where I knocked loudly and awaited him. The door was soon openedto me. "Is Mr. Skene within?" I asked; for he himself came not, asyesterday he had, but an ancient woman, in a soiled coif and apparelmarvellous indecent, stood in the doorway.
"Lord! there be no Skenes here," she said in a harsh voice, "nor aughtelse but confusion and labour and sneaped wages, and they delayed.Skenes!" she ran on like a course of mill-water, "ay, Skenes and scaldsand the quarten ague, and what doth the old fool live for, that was Annby the Garlickhithe fifty year since, and worth nigh five-and-thirtymarks or ever Tom Ducket beguiled her out of the virtuous way to thehavoc of her salvation; with a murrain o' his like and small rest totheir souls. A bright eye was mine then, master, that is dull now, andthe bloom of a peach by the southward wall. But now 'tis age and atroubled mind that irks me, besides this pestering sort of knaves thatlive by the law. Ah! Garlickhithe was fair on a May morning once,lad, and the fairer, they told me, that Ann was fair featured who dweltthere."
I had suffered the old hag to rave thus far, out of mere astonishment.For how came it, I asked, that she who cleansed the chamber knewnothing of the man who occupied his business there. My brain falteredin its office, and I reeled under the weight of my fears.
"Who then uses these rooms?" I inquired when I could manage my words.
"None to-day nor to-morrow, I warrant, so foul it is," replied the oldwife, and fell to work upon the floor again with her soused clouts,while she proceeded, "but the day after 'tis one Master Roman fromOxford removes hither to study at the law. Let him pay me my wages bythe law, lawfully, as he shall answer for it at the Judgment, for Ihave been put to charges beyond belief in black soap (that is ahalfpenny the pound in the shops at Bow), and let no one think I takeless than fourpence by the day, for all I live on the Bank-side overagainst the Clink."
Without more ado I flung into the chamber past her, and running to thecloset where my money was, had it open on the instant. But the firstsight showed it to me quite bare. Nevertheless, I groped about thevacancy like a man mad (as I was indeed), crying out that I wasinfamously deceived and robbed of five hundred pound. Now searchingthus distractedly, and without either method or precaution, I chancedto hit my leg a sore great blow against the iron of the latch, andopened my wound afresh which was not near healed, so that it bled veryprofusely. But this, although it weakened me, hindered me nothing, Icontinuing a great while after to turn all upside down and to bewail myloss and Skene's villainy that had undone me.
In the end, however, my fever of dismay abating a little or givingplace to reason, I bethought myself of Mr. Wall, the goldsmith, to whomperhaps the attorney had thought it safer to convey the gold; andstraightway therefore made off to his house on Cornhill, in a remnantof hope that my apprehensions should after all prove to be ill-grounded.
He saw me coming, I suppose, for he left his shop to greet me; but whenhe observed my infinite distress, he would listen to no word of mineuntil he had fetched forth a bottle of Rhenish, and made me drink ofit. The good wine refreshed me mightily, as also, and indeed more, didthe quiet behaviour of Mr. Wall, who counselled me wisely to restmyself first and after to confine myself to relating the bare matterwithout heat or flourish of any kind. "For out of an hot heart proceedmany things inconvenient, as the Apostle plainly shewed," he said,"whereas out of a cold head proceedeth nothing but what is to thepurpose, and generally profitable; at least in the way of business, Mr.Denis, I mean in the way of business, which is doubtless the cause ofyour honouring me again with your company."
Upon this I told him all, without passion, and directly as it hadbefallen. His face, as I spoke, gradually came to assume a deepergravity, but he did not interrupt my narration, though I perceived thatin part it was not altogether clear. When I had made an end he satlong, and then rising, went to his desk and returned to me with apaper, which was the same I had given to Skene on the yesterday.
"Do you acknowledge that for your hand, Mr. Denis?" he asked me briefly.
"It is mine," I replied wondering.
"Be pleased to read it," said he.
So in a trembling voice I read it aloud, word for word as I had writ itunder Skene's direction; wherein I desired Mr. Wall that he woulddisburse to our attorney, as he should have need of them, such sums asshould not in the total exceed five hundred pounds.
"And such was my intention," cried I, infinitely relieved to find allas I supposed it. But observing that the goldsmith regarded mesomething oddly, I added: "I mean that he required the gold, not inbulk, but in parcels from time to time; and as to that I took awayyesterday, that you were to send for it again."
"You say not so here," said he very quietly.
But upon the instant he had said it, I perceived how the villain hadused my letter, which was to double his booty already gotten; he havingnot restored the former sum I had meant this to be in the place of, buthaving even possessed himself of this treasure likewise. Myinadvertent laxness of instruction (purposely so phrased by Skenehimself) had given him the opportunity he sought, and I was now by myfolly and misgiven trust, a thousand pounds upon the score in thegoldsmith's books.
There was no occasion for argument betwixt us, where all was manifestenough, nor yet, by him, for empty expressions of regret, seeing he hadbut acted punctually upon my demand. For his pity, I had it, I knew,though Mr. Wall refrained himself from any expression of it. Butanother feeling he had, I could see, which was a doubt whether myfather's credit was sufficient to bear this inordinately increasedburden; nay, whether he would not repudiate the note I had so ineptlyset hand to, staying his conscience on the satisfaction of his properbond. I had my answer to that ready, had Mr. Wall proposed thequestion; but to his honour he did not. All he put in contribution toour debate related to Skene's presentation of my note, which beingfairly written and legally expressed, he had neither reason nor scruplefor withholding the loan. As for the bearer of the message, he was agentleman of a very noble quiet manner, said Wall, and to thisdescription of Skene I could not but consent.
In fine there being nought left to say, save on my part that I wouldimmediately write an account of all to my father (whom I would nototherwise commit) we parted at the door, and I returned slowly throughthe great unfriendly City, sick at heart. Now I had not proceeded farupon my way when it came upon me that I would seek out my old tutor,Mr. Jordan; for I greatly yearned after comfort and kindly speech,which I knew would be his to give, upon the first hint of mymisfortune. By good hap I remembered the lodging where he had said hemight be found, which was in a room of a great house calledNorthumberland House in the parish, and over against the Church, of St.Katherine Colman; which mansion having fallen from its first estate (asmany other within the City have done also) is now parted among such asdo pay rent for their use of chambers therein, as few or many as theyplease.
Thither then I inquired out direction; but whether it were by reason ofthe intricacy of manifold streets and alleys, or of the mist that fromfirst overcasting the sky had now descended and thickly muffled up eventhe considerable buildings, or else of the opening again of my woundthat sorely sucked away my strength; I say whatsoever the cause were, Isoon confessed myself at a stand and quite bewildered. And moreover tomake bad worse, I perceived myself to have run into a foul and steeplane, of a most unsavoury stench; the way being
nought else than akennel pestered with garbage. None seemed to be inhabiting thisunclean byway, or at the least not occupying their business in it; butthe doors stood shut all, and the windows so guarded as one might thinkthe plague had visited the place and died for lack of life to feed on.
Meanwhile the fog seemed to mitigate something of its blackness beforeme; and this it was, I suppose, that drove me still forward rather thanby returning upon my steps to encounter the worst of it that yet hunglike a pall between the desolate houses.
At length I issued at the bottom end into a sort of wide place or yard(for I could not rightly tell which it were, so dim all lay and I soconfused by pain), but by a certain saltness in the air I guessed itmight be near beside the river, and perhaps led down to one of thewharves or hithes thereupon. But that I was out of all bearing I knew,and the knowledge sank my courage utterly, so that I could no more, butsat down upon a stock by the wayside and wept for very bitterness.
I remember that I said it over like a creed an hundred times that I wasalone, and although I said it not, it beat upon my brain that I wasvery near to death.
Soon after I seemed to stumble, and perhaps did indeed sink down fromthe timber I rested on; whereat, opening my eyes hastily, I saw face toface with me, a maid with the countenance of an angel, and an infinitecompassion in her eyes. But the fever altogether had me then, so thatwhat I report I may not now verify; yet methought she took me by thehands and raised me, saying (as to herself), "Dear heart, how chill heis," and then, "Lo! the hurt he hath, poor lad! and it not stanched butbleeding."
After that I must have swooned, for I remember no more; or at least notsuch as I believe did happen, though from the cloud of wild dreams thatbegan to beset me there drew together as it were a masque of half-truthin a scene not wholly fantastick. For I stood again in the midst of along and steep street, very dark and tempestuous, of which the housesfalling together suddenly with a great noise formed a sort of rift ortunnel by which I might escape; and at the end of this length of ruin Iperceived a pale blue light burning, to the which painfully groping myway I saw it was borne by a maid that came toward me; and all thiswhile I heard a mighty rushing as of water, and voices mingled with it,loud and laughing. Then as the lass with the light approached menearer I knew her for Madam Malt's third (or fourth) daughter, and therushing sound I perceived to be the stream of small beer she had spilt;and the laughter grew and increased horribly and the light went out.And so, at length, I fell away into an inevitable and profoundforgetfulness.
Idonia: A Romance of Old London Page 8