IT IS VERY EASY TO HUMBUG THOSE WHO ARE SO EAGER TO BE HUMBUGGED AS
PEOPLE ARE IN THIS WORLD OF HUMBUG--WE SHOW OURSELVES EXCESSIVELY
DISINTERESTED, WHICH ASTONISHES EVERYBODY.
I kissed and consoled her; she threw her arm round my neck, and remained
there with her face hid for some time. We then joined the others at
supper. Melchior was much pleased with our success, and highly praised
the conduct of Timothy and myself, which he pronounced was, for the
first attempt, far beyond his expectations.
We continued to astonish all the good people of -- for five days, when
we discovered the indubitable fact, that there was no more money to be
extracted from their pockets, upon which we resumed our usual clothes
and smock-frocks and with our bundles in our hands, set off for another
market town, about fifteen miles distant. There we were equally
successful, and Melchior was delighted with our having proved such a
powerful acquisition to his troop; but not to dwell too long upon one
subject, I shall inform the reader that, after a trip of six weeks,
during which we were very well received, we once more returned to the
camp, which had located within five miles of our last scene of action.
Everyone was content--we were all glad to get back and rest from our
labours. Melchior was pleased with his profits, poor little Fleta
overjoyed to be once more in the seclusion of her tent, and Nattee very
glad to hear of our good fortune, and to see her husband. Timothy and I
had already proved ourselves so useful, that Melchior treated us with
the greatest friendship and confidence--and he made us a present out of
the gains, for our exertions; to me he gave ten, and to Timothy five,
pounds.
"There, Japhet, had you hired yourself I should not have paid you more
than seven shillings per week, finding you in food; but you must
acknowledge that for six weeks that is not bad pay. However, your
earnings will depend upon our success, and I rather think that we shall
make a much better thing of it when next we start, which will be in
about a fortnight; but we have some arrangements to make. Has Timothy a
good memory?"
"I think he has."
"That is well. I told you before that we are to try the `Wise Man,'--
but first we must have Nattee in play. To-morrow we will start for --,"
mentioning a small quiet town about four miles off.
We did so, early the next morning, and arrived about noon, pitching our
tents on the common, not far from the town; but in this instance we left
all the rest of our gang behind. Melchior's own party and his two tents
were all that were brought by the donkeys.
Melchior and I, dressed as countrymen, went into the town at dusk, and
entered a respectable sort of inn, taking our seats at one of the tables
in the tap-room, and, as we had already planned, after we had called for
beer, commenced a conversation in the hearing of the others who were
sitting drinking and smoking.
"Well, I never will believe it--it's all cheat and trickery," said
Melchior, "and they only do it to pick your pocket. Tell your fortune,
indeed! I suppose she promised you a rich wife and half-a-dozen
children."
"No, she did not," replied I, "for I am too young to marry; but she told
me what I know has happened."
"Well, what was that?"
"Why, she told me that my mother had married again, and turned me out of
doors to work for my bread."
"But she might have heard that."
"How could she? No, that's not possible; but she told me I had a mole
on my knee, which was a sign of luck. Now how could she know that?"
"Well, I grant that was odd--and pray what else did she promise you?"
"Why, she said that I should meet with my dearest friend to-night. Now
that does puzzle me, for I have but one in the world, and he is a long
way off."
"Well, if you do meet your friend, then I'll believe her; but if not, it
has been all guess work; and pray what did you pay for all this--was it
a shilling, or did she pick your pocket?"
"That's what puzzles me,--she refused to take anything. I offered it
again and again, and she said, `No; that she would have no money--that
her gift was not to be sold.'"
"Well, that is odd. Do you hear what this young man says?" said
Melchior, addressing the others, who had swallowed every word.
"Yes," replied one; "but who is this person?"
"The queen of the gipsies, I am told. I never saw such a wonderful
woman in my life--her eye goes right through you. I met her on the
common, and, as she passed, she dropped a handkerchief. I ran back to
give it her, and then she thanked me and said, `Open your hand and let
me see the palm. Here are great lines, and you will be fortunate;' and
then she told me a great deal more, and bid God bless me."
"Then if she said that, she cannot have dealings with the _devil_,"
observed Melchior.
"Very odd--very strange--take no money--queen of the gipsies," was
echoed from all sides.
The landlady and the bar-maid listened with wonder, when who should come
in, as previously agreed, but Timothy. I pretended not to see him; but
he came up to me, seizing me by the hand, and shaking it with apparent
delight, and crying, "Wilson, have you forgot Smith?"
"Smith!" cried I, looking earnestly in his face. "Why so it is. How
came you here?"
"I left Dublin three days ago," replied he; "but how I came here into
this house, is one of the strangest things that ever occurred. I was
walking over the common, when a tall handsome woman looked at me, and
said, `Young man, if you will go into the third public-house you pass,
you will meet an old friend, who expects you.' I thought she was
laughing at me; but as it mattered very little in which house I passed
the night, I thought, for the fun of the thing, I might as well take her
advice."
"How strange!" cried Melchior, "and she told him the same--that is, he
would meet a friend."
"Strange--very strange--wonderful--astonishing!" was echoed from all
quarters, and the fame of the gipsy was already established.
Timothy and I sat down together, conversing as old friends, and Melchior
went about from one to the other, narrating the wonderful occurrence
till past midnight, when we all three took beds at the inn, as if we
were travellers.
The report which we had circulated that evening induced many people to
go out to see Nattee, who appeared to take no notice of them; and when
asked to tell fortunes, waved them away with her hand. But, although
this plan of Melchior's was, for the first two or three days, very
expedient, yet, as it was not intended to last, Timothy, who remained
with me at the inn, became very intimate with the bar-maid, and obtained
from her most of the particulars of her life. I, also, from repeated
conversations with the landlady, received information very important,
relative to herself and many of the families in the town, but as the
employment of Nattee was for an ulterior object, we contented ourselves
with gaining all the information we could before we proceeded further.
After we had been there a week, and the fame of the gipsy woman had been
marvellously increased--many things having been asserted of her which
were indeed truly improbable--Melchior agreed that Timothy should
persuade the bar-maid to try if the gipsy woman would tell her fortune:
the girl, with some trepidation agreed, but at the same time, expecting
to be refused, consented to walk with him over the common. Timothy
advised her to pretend to pick up a sixpence when near to Nattee, and
ask her if it did not belong to her; and the bar-maid acted upon his
suggestions, having just before that quitted the arm of Timothy, who had
conducted her.
"Did you drop a sixpence? I have picked up one," said the girl,
trembling with fear as she addressed Nattee.
"Child," replied Nattee, who was prepared, "I have neither dropped a
sixpence nor have you found one--but never mind that, I know that which
you wish, and I know who you are. Now what would you with me? Is it to
inquire whether the landlord and landlady of the Golden Lion intend to
keep you in their service?"
"No," replied this girl, frightened at what she heard; "not to inquire
that, but to ask what my fortune will be?"
"Open your palm, pretty maid, and I will tell you. Hah! I see that you
were born in the West--your father is dead--your mother is in service--
and let me see,--you have a brother at sea--now in the West Indies."
At this intelligence, all of which, as may be supposed, had been
gathered by us, the poor girl was so frightened that she fell down in a
swoon, and Timothy carried her off. When she was taken home to the inn,
she was so ill that she was put into bed, and what she did say was so
incoherent, that, added to Timothy's narrative, the astonishment of the
landlady and others was beyond all bounds. I tried very hard to bring
the landlady, but she would not consent; and now Nattee was pestered by
people of higher condition, who wished to hear what she would say. Here
Nattee's power were brought into play. She would not refuse to see
them, but would not give answers till she had asked question and, as
from us she had gleaned much general information, so by making this
knowledge appear in her questions to them, she made them believe she
knew more. If a young person came to her, she would immediately ask the
name--of that name she had all the references acquired from us as to
family and connexions. Bearing upon them, she would ask a few more, and
then give them an abrupt dismissal.
This behaviour was put up with from one of her commanding presence, who
refused money, and treated those who accosted her as if she was their
superior. Many came again and again, telling her all they knew, and
acquainting her with every transaction of their life, to induce her to
prophesy, for such, she informed them, was the surest way to call the
spirit upon her. By these means we obtained the secret history of the
major part, that is, the wealthier part of the town of --; and although
the predictions of Nattee were seldom given, yet when given, they were
given with such perfect and apparent knowledge of the parties, that when
she left, which she did about six weeks after her first appearance, the
whole town rang with accounts of her wonderful powers.
It will appear strange that Melchior would not permit Nattee to reap a
harvest, which might have been great; but the fact was that he only
allowed the seed to be sown that a greater harvest might be gathered
hereafter. Nattee disappeared, the gipsies' tent was no longer on the
common, and the grass, which had been beaten down into a road by the
feet of the frequent applicants to her, was again permitted to spring
up. We also took our departure, and rejoined the camp with Nattee,
where we remained for a fortnight, to permit the remembrance of her to
subside a little--knowing that the appetite was alive, and would not be
satisfied until it was appeased.
After that time Melchior, Timothy, and I, again set off for the town of
--, and stopping at a superior inn in another part of the town, dressed
as travellers, that is, people who go about the country for orders from
the manufacturers, ordered our beds and supper in the coffee-room. The
conversation was soon turned upon the wonderful powers of Nattee, the
gipsy. "Nonsense," said Melchior, "she knows nothing. I have heard of
her. But there's a man coming this way (should he happen to pass
through this town) who will surprise and frighten you. No one knows who
he is. He is named the Great Aristodemus. He knows the past, the
present, and the future. He never looks at people's hands--he only
looks you in the face, and _woe be to them who tell him a lie_.
Otherwise, he is good-tempered and obliging, and will tell what will
come to pass, and his predictions never have been known to fail. They
say that he is hundreds of years old, and his hair is while as silver."
At this information many expressed their doubts, and many others vaunted
the powers of the gipsy. Melchior replied, "that all he knew was, that
for the sum of two guineas paid down, he had told him of a legacy left
him of six hundred pounds, which otherwise he would never have known of
or received." All the town of -- being quite alive for fortune-telling,
this new report gained wind, and after a week's sojourn, Melchior
thought that the attempt should be made.