Visit to the Landlord--His Mortifications--Hunter and his
Clan--Resolution.
On the following morning, after breakfasting with Belle, who was silent
and melancholy, I left her in the dingle, and took a stroll amongst the
neighbouring lanes. After some time I thought I would pay a visit to the
landlord of the public-house, whom I had not seen since the day when he
communicated to me his intention of changing his religion. I therefore
directed my steps to the house, and on entering it found the landlord
standing in the kitchen. Just then two mean-looking fellows, who had
been drinking at one of the tables, and who appeared to be the only
customers in the house, got up, brushed past the landlord, and saying in
a surly tone, we shall pay you some time or other, took their departure.
"That's the way they serve me now," said the landlord, with a sigh. "Do
you know those fellows," I demanded, "since you let them go away in your
debt?" "I know nothing about them," said the landlord, "save that they
are a couple of scamps." "Then why did you let them go away without
paying you?" said I. "I had not the heart to stop them," said the
landlord; "and, to tell you the truth, everybody serves me so now, and I
suppose they are right, for a child could flog me." "Nonsense," said I,
"behave more like a man, and with respect to those two fellows run after
them, I will go with you, and if they refuse to pay the reckoning I will
help you to shake some money out of their clothes." "Thank you," said
the landlord; "but as they are gone, let them go on. What they have
drank is not of much consequence." "What is the matter with you?" said
I, staring at the landlord, who appeared strangely altered; his features
were wild and haggard, his formerly bluff cheeks were considerably sunken
in, and his figure had lost much of its plumpness. "Have you changed
your religion already, and has the fellow in black commanded you to
fast?" "I have not changed my religion yet," said the landlord, with a
kind of shudder; "I am to change it publicly this day fortnight, and the
idea of doing so--I do not mind telling you--preys much upon my mind;
moreover, the noise of the thing has got abroad, and everybody is
laughing at me, and what's more, coming and drinking my beer, and going
away without paying for it, whilst I feel myself like one bewitched,
wishing but not daring to take my own part. Confound the fellow in
black, I wish I had never seen him! yet what can I do without him? The
brewer swears that unless I pay him fifty pounds within a fortnight he'll
send a distress warrant into the house, and take all I have. My poor
niece is crying in the room above; and I am thinking of going into the
stable and hanging myself; and perhaps it's the best thing I can do, for
it's better to hang myself before selling my soul than afterwards, as I'm
sure I should, like Judas Iscariot, whom my poor niece, who is somewhat
religiously inclined, has been talking to me about." "I wish I could
assist you," said I, "with money, but that is quite out of my power.
However, I can give you a piece of advice. Don't change your religion by
any means; you can't hope to prosper if you do; and if the brewer chooses
to deal hardly with you, let him. Everybody would respect you ten times
more provided you allowed yourself to be turned into the roads rather
than change your religion, than if you got fifty pounds for renouncing
it." "I am half inclined to take your advice," said the landlord, "only,
to tell you the truth, I feel quite low, without any heart in me." "Come
into the bar," said I, "and let us have something together--you need not
be afraid of my not paying for what I order."
We went into the bar-room, where the landlord and I discussed between us
two bottles of strong ale, which he said were part of the last six which
he had in his possession. At first he wished to drink sherry, but I
begged him to do no such thing, telling him that sherry would do him no
good under the present circumstances; nor, indeed, to the best of my
belief, under any, it being of all wines the one for which I entertained
the most contempt. The landlord allowed himself to be dissuaded, and,
after a glass or two of ale, confessed that sherry was a sickly,
disagreeable drink, and that he had merely been in the habit of taking it
from an idea he had that it was genteel. Whilst quaffing our beverage,
he gave me an account of the various mortifications to which he had of
late been subject, dwelling with particular bitterness on the conduct of
Hunter, who he said came every night and mouthed him, and afterwards went
away without paying for what he had drank or smoked, in which conduct he
was closely imitated by a clan of fellows who constantly attended him.
After spending several hours at the public-house I departed, not
forgetting to pay for the two bottles of ale. The landlord, before I
went, shaking me by the hand, declared that he had now made up his mind
to stick to his religion at all hazards, the more especially as he was
convinced he should derive no good by giving it up.