MR. GREENWOOD'S JOURNEY.
It was six o'clock on the evening following the incidents related in the
two preceding chapters.
Mr. Greenwood had just concluded an early dinner (early for him) after
having devoted the greater part of the day to business in the City, and
a small portion of it to his fair Georgian, for whom he had taken
elegantly furnished apartments in Suffolk Street, Pall Mall.
Having disposed of his last glass of champagne, the honourable member
for Rottenborough rang the bell.
Lafleur made his appearance.
"Is the chaise ordered for seven precisely?" inquired Mr. Greenwood.
"Yes, sir—seven precisely, sir," answered the valet.
"Did you write to my agent at Rottenborough to tell him that I should
pass through that town at half-past eight, and that although I wished to
preserve a strict incognito, yet I should not mind being recognised
while the horses are changing at the inn?"
[Illustration]
"I mentioned all that, sir," replied Lafleur; "and I suggested that he
had better get together a hundred or so of persons in the tap-room, to
be ready to rush out and cheer you."
"That was well thought of, Lafleur. I have already sent a paragraph to
the morning newspaper in which I am a shareholder, stating that I was
enthusiastically cheered as I passed through Rottenborough. It will
appear to-morrow morning. Have you renewed my positive orders to the
policeman on this beat to take all beggars into custody who are found
loitering near my door?"
"I have, sir. One woman, with three whimpering children, was dragged off
to the station-house half an hour ago, for looking too earnestly down
the area windows," said Lafleur. "Her husband has just been to beg you
to intercede with the Inspector for her release. He said he was a
hard-working man, and that it must be a mistake, as his wife was no
beggar."
"And what did you say, Lafleur?" demanded Mr. Greenwood, sternly.
"I said nothing, sir: I merely banged the door in his face."
"That was right and proper. I am determined to put down vagrancy.
Nothing is more offensive to the eye than those crawling wretches who
are perpetually dinning in one's ears a long tale about their being
half-starved."
"Yes, sir—it is very disagreeable, sir," observed Lafleur.
"The free and independent electors of Rottenborough have not sent me to
Parliament for nothing, I can assure you," continued Mr. Greenwood.
"No, sir," responded Lafleur.
"And I, from my place in the House, will denounce this odious system of
mendicancy," added Mr. Greenwood.
"Yes, sir," observed Lafleur.
"By-the-by, did you send the letter I gave you just now to the post?"
The valet answered in the affirmative.
"I am glad of that. It was to the Reverend Dr. Beganuph—the rector of
some place in some county—I am sure I forget where. However—the reverend
gentleman is having the parish church enlarged—or made smaller—I really
forget which,—but I know it's something of the kind;—and as he has sent
a circular to all persons whose names are in the _Court Guide_,
soliciting subscriptions, I cannot, of course, refuse to contribute my
mite of five pounds to the pious work—especially as the list of
subscribers is to be advertised in the principal London and provincial
papers. We must support the Church, Lafleur."
"Yes, sir—decidedly, sir," observed the valet.
"What would become of us without the Church?" continued Mr. Greenwood.
"It is the source from which flow all the blessings of Christian love,
hope, benevolence, and charity. Hark! Lafleur, I do really believe there
is a woman singing a ballad in the street! Run out and give her into
custody this minute."
"Beg your pardon, sir," said the valet: "it's only the muffin-boy."
"Oh! that's different," observed Mr. Greenwood, rising from his seat.
"The chaise will be here at seven, you say?"
"Yes, sir."
"You and Filippo will accompany me. Tell Filippo to see that his
fire-arms are in good order; and do you attend to mine as well as your
own. Not that I apprehend any danger on such a road as that on which we
are about to travel; still it is better to be prepared."
"Decidedly, sir," answered Lafleur, not a muscle of his countenance
betraying any extraordinary emotion.
"Take a lamp to my study," said Greenwood; "and then go and see about
the fire-arms. Let my case of pistols be put inside the chaise."
"Yes, sir;"—and Lafleur was about to leave the room, when he suddenly
recollected himself, and said, "If you please, sir, your boot-maker sent
your new slippers this morning, wrapped up in a piece of the _Weekly
Dispatch_. I thought I had better mention it, sir."
"By God, you have done well to acquaint me with this infamy, Lafleur!"
cried Mr. Greenwood, desperately excited. "The scoundrel! he reads the
_Dispatch_, does he?—the journal that possesses more influence over the
masses than even pulpits, governments, sovereigns, or religious tracts!
The villain! I always thought that man was a democrat at heart; because
one day when I told him if he didn't vote for the Tory Churchwarden he
would lose my custom, he smiled—yes, smiled! And so he reads the
_Dispatch_—the people's journal—the vehicle of all argument against our
blessed constitution—the champion to which all who fancy themselves
oppressed, fly as naturally as bees to flowers! Lafleur," added Mr.
Greenwood, solemnly, "you will send to that boot-maker, and tell him to
show his face no more at the house of the Member for Rottenborough."
"Yes, sir."
And Lafleur left the room.
A few minutes afterwards Mr. Greenwood repaired to his study, where the
lamp had already been placed upon the table.
He then opened his iron safe, and drew forth a large canvass bag full of
sovereigns. This he consigned to a tin box, resembling those in which
lawyers keep their clients' papers. Three more bags, of the same size as
the first, were taken from the safe and stowed away in this japanned
case.
"Four thousand pounds!" murmured Greenwood to himself. "How many a
family would be made happy with only the hundredth part of that sum! But
those who want the glittering metal should toil for it as I have done."
Mr. Greenwood, having thus complimented himself upon those "toils"
whereby he had gained his wealth, proceeded to take a large portfolio
from the iron safe.
Partially opening its various compartments, so as to obtain a glance at
the contents, he smiled still more complacently than when his eyes
lingered on the canvass bags.
"Sixteen thousand pounds in Bank of England notes," he exclaimed aloud,
as he consigned the portfolio to the tin case. "And these twenty
thousand pounds, judiciously applied in Paris, will produce me
twenty-five thousand clear gain—twenty-five thousand at the least!"
His really handsome countenance wore an expression of triumph, as he
carefully locked the tin case, and placed the key in his pocket.
"My combinations are admirable! Thirty thousand pounds, already embarked
in these Parisian speculations, have prepared the way for enormous
gains: and now," continued Greenwood,—"now this sum,"—and he glanced
towards the tin box—"will strike the decisive blow! It is a glorious
science—that of the financier! And who is more subtle than I? True—I
have experienced some losses during the past week—a few thousands: but
they are nothing! I was wrong to job as I did in the English funds. The
fluctuations in the French securities are the means by which brilliant
fortunes can be made! The timid talk of the great risks—Pshaw! Let them
combine their projects as I have done!"
He ceased, and surveyed himself complacently in the mirror above the
mantel.
He then rang the bell.
Lafleur appeared in about a minute; but so calm, composed, and unruffled
was his countenance, that no living soul would have suspected that he
had been attentively listening at the door of the study all the while
his master was transferring the treasure from the iron safe to the tin
box.
"Bring me my upper coat and travelling cap, Lafleur," said Mr.
Greenwood, not choosing to lose sight of his tin box.
Lafleur once more disappeared, and speedily returned with his master's
travelling attire.
He announced at the same time that the chaise was at the door.
In a few minutes, Mr. Greenwood was ensconced in the vehicle. The tin
box was stowed away under the seat: and his case of pistols lay by his
side, within convenient reach.
Filippo and Lafleur mounted the dickey: the postillions cracked their
whips; and the equipage rolled rapidly away from Spring Gardens.
At half-past eight o'clock precisely the vehicle drove up to the door of
the principal inn of which the town of Rottenborough could boast.
The ostlers seemed to bungle in a very unusual manner, as they changed
the horses; and full five minutes elapsed ere they could loosen the
traces. In a word, they punctually obeyed the directions of Mr.
Greenwood's agent in that famous town.
Suddenly the door of the tap-room burst open and vomited forth about
eighty of such queer and suspicious-looking fellows, that no prudent man
would have walked down a dark lane where he knew any one of them to be
lurking.
Out they came—in most admirable disorder—pell-mell—jostling, hustling,
pushing, larking with each other.
"Hooray, Greenwood! brayvo, Greenwood!" they shouted, at the tops of
voices somewhat disguised in liquor. "Greenwood for ever! Down with the
Tories!"
"No—no!" shouted a little man, dressed in deep black, and who suddenly
appeared at the head of the mob: "down with the Liberals, you mean!"
"Oh—ah! so it is!" cried the mob; and then they shouted louder than
ever, "Hooray for Greenwood! Down with the Liberals! The Tories for
ever!"
Then the little man in black, who was none other than the honourable
member's agent, rushed up to the carriage window, exclaiming, "Ah! Mr.
Greenwood!—you are discovered, you see! Very pretty, indeed, to think of
passing through Rottenborough _incog._,—you who are the hope and the
glory of the town! Luckily a party of gentlemen—all independent
electors," added the lawyer, glancing round at the ragged and
half-drunken mob, "were partaking of some little wholesome refreshment
together—quite accidentally—in the tavern; and thus they are blessed
with an opportunity of paying their respects to their representative in
our glorious Parliament!"
"Brayvo, Greenwood!" ejaculated the crowd of "gentlemen," when the
little lawyer had concluded his speech.
"Gentlemen," said Mr. Greenwood, thrusting his head out of the
chaise-window, "you cannot conceive the delight which I experience at
this most unexpected—most unlooked-for, and entirely spontaneous
expression of your good feeling towards me. Gentlemen, when I behold an
enlightened—an independent—a respectable—and an intelligent assembly
thus coming forward to signify an approval of my parliamentary career, I
meet with an ample recompense for all my exertions and toils to maintain
the interests of the great constituency of Rottenborough. Gentlemen, the
eyes of the world are upon you at this moment——"
"Then the world can see in the dark without spectacles," cried one of
the free and independent inhabitants of Rottenborough.
"Yes, gentlemen," continued Greenwood, unabashed by this interruption,
which raised a general titter; "the eyes of the world are upon you; for
when Rottenborough thus emphatically expresses itself in favour of its
member, it is avowing its stanch adherence to the true principles of
Conservatism. This is a great fact, gentlemen; and so long as
Rottenborough remains faithful to those principles, the democratic
disturbers of the public peace must look on and tremble!"
With this splendid finale, Mr. Greenwood sank back in the chaise, which
immediately drove rapidly away, amidst the uproarious shouts of the
ragamuffins and tatterdemalions whom the lawyer had convoked, according
to Lafleur's written instructions, for the occasion.
The ragamuffins and tatterdemalions were, however, well recompensed for
their trouble; for they were copiously regaled with beer and tobacco
before the arrival of the honourable member; and as soon as the member
had departed, a supper of boiled tripe and onion-sauce was served up to
them. The entertainment concluded with a quarrel and battle amongst the
convivialists, several of whom took home with them broken heads and
black eyes as trophies of their prowess.
Meantime the travelling-chaise rolled along the road.
The night was beautiful, clear, and frosty; and the moon rode high in
the heavens.
Newington was passed; and Mr. Greenwood was just falling into a
delicious sleep, when four men, wearing masks, and enveloped in thick
pilot-coats, rushed from a hedge.
The horses were stopped suddenly; and two of the ruffians presented
pistols at the heads of the postillions, menacing them with instant
death if they offered any resistance.
Greenwood lowered the windows of the chaise, and holding a pistol in
each hand, exclaimed, "I'll shoot the first who dares approach me!"
Filippo leapt to the ground on one side, and Lafleur followed him so
closely, that he fell over the Italian, one of whose pistols went off by
the shock, but without doing any mischief. Before he could make an
effort to rise, Lafleur struck him on the head with the butt-end of one
of his weapons, and laid him senseless on his back.
Meantime, while the Lully Prig and Long Bob took charge of the
postillions, as above stated, the Resurrection Man and the Buffer rushed
up to the door of the chaise.
Greenwood fired point-blank at Tidkins's head but without the slightest
effect.
The door was opened; and the Resurrection Man sprang into the vehicle.
Greenwood fired his second pistol; but it merely singed his assailant's
hair.
Then the Member of Parliament was dragged into the road, and bound hand
and foot almost in the twinkling of an eye.
This being done, the Resurrection Man hastened to search the chaise, and
speedily secured the tin box.
He gave a long shrill whistle: this was a signal to announce his
success; for it had been previously agreed amongst the ruffians that
they should not utter a word more than might be absolutely necessary, so
that their voices might not be afterwards recognised, in case suspicion
fell upon them. Moreover, the Resurrection Man's voice was well known to
Greenwood; and thus this precaution was not an useless one.
The four robbers and Lafleur now beat a rapid retreat towards an
adjacent chalk-pit, the Buffer leading the way, and the Resurrection Man
carrying the box.