A CABINET COUNCIL--I RESOLVE TO SET UP AS A GENTLEMAN, HAVING AS
LEGITIMATE PRETENSIONS TO THE RANK OF ONE AS MANY OTHERS.
I led the little sobbing girl by the hand, and we proceeded for some
time in silence. It was not until we gained the high road that Timothy
interrupted my reverie, by observing, "Japhet, have you at all made up
your mind what you shall do?"
"I have been reflecting, Timothy. We have lost a great deal of time.
The original intention with which I left London has been almost
forgotten; but it must be so no longer. I now have resolved that as
soon as I have placed this poor little girl in safety, that I will
prosecute my search, and never be diverted from it."
"I cannot agree with you that we have lost time, Japhet? we had very
little money when we started upon our expedition, and now we have
sufficient to enable you to prosecute your plans for a long time. The
question is, in what direction? We quitted London, and travelled west,
in imitation, as we thought, of the _wise men_. With all deference, in
my opinion, it was like _two fools_."
"I have been thinking upon that point also, Tim, and I agree with you, I
expect, from several causes, which you know as well as I do, to find my
father among the higher classes of society; and the path we took when we
started has led us into the very lowest. It appears to me that we
cannot do better than retrace our steps. We have the means now to
appear as gentlemen, and to mix in good company; and London is the very
best place for us to repair to."
"That is precisely my opinion, Japhet, with one single exception, which
I will mention to you: but first tell me, have you calculated what our
joint purses may amount to? It must be a very considerable sum."
I had not examined the packet in which was the money which Melchior had
given me at parting. I now opened it, and found, to my surprise, that
there were Bank notes to the amount of one hundred pounds. I felt that
he had given me this large sum that it might assist me in Fleta's
expenses. "With this sum," said I, "I cannot have much less than two
hundred and fifty pounds."
"And I have more than sixty," said Timothy. "Really, the profession was
not unprofitable."
"No," replied I, laughing; "but recollect, Tim, that we had no outlay.
The public provided us with food, our lodging cost us nothing. We have
had no taxes to pay; and at the same time have taxed folly and credulity
to a great extent."
"That's true, Japhet; and although I am glad to have the money, I am not
sorry that we have abandoned the profession."
"Nor am I, Tim; if you please, we will forget it altogether. But tell
me, what was the exception you were about to make?"
"Simply this. Although upwards of three hundred pounds may be a great
deal of money, yet, if we are to support the character and appearance of
gentlemen, it will not last for ever. For instance, we must have our
_valets_. What an expense that will be! Our clothes too--we shall soon
lose our rank and station in society, without we obtain a situation
under government."
"We must make it last as long as we can, Timothy; and trust to good
fortune to assist us."
"That's all very well, Japhet; but I had rather trust to our own
prudence. Now hear what I have to say. You will be as much assisted by
a _trusty_ valet as by any other means. I shall, as a gentleman, be
only an expense and an incumbrance; but as a valet I shall be able to
play into your hands, at the same time more than one half the expense
will be avoided. With your leave, therefore, I will take my proper
situation, put on your livery, and thereby make myself of the greatest
use."
I could not help acknowledging the advantages to be derived from this
proposal of Timothy's; but I did not like to accept it.
"It is very kind of you, Timothy," replied I; "but I can only look upon
you as a friend and an equal."
"There you are right and are wrong in the same breath. You are right in
looking upon me as a friend, Japhet; and you would be still more right
in allowing me to prove my friendship as I propose; but you are wrong in
looking upon me as an equal, for I am not so either in personal
appearance, education, or anything else. We are both foundlings, it is
true; but you were christened after Abraham Newland, and I after the
workhouse pump. You were a gentleman foundling, presenting yourself
with a fifty-pound note, and good clothes. I made my appearance in rags
and misery. If you find your parents, you will rise in the world; if I
find mine, I shall, in all probability, have no reason to be proud of
them. I therefore must insist upon having my own choice in the part I
am to play in the drama, and I will prove to you that it is my right to
choose. You forget that, when we started, your object was to search
after your father, and I told you mine should be to look after my
mother. You have selected high life as the expected sphere in which he
is to be found, and I select low life as that in which I am most likely
to discover the object of my search. So you perceive," continued Tim,
laughing, "that we must arrange so as to suit the views of both without
parting company. Do you hunt among bag-wigs, amber-headed canes, silks
and satins--I will burrow among tags and tassels, dimity and mob caps;
and probably we shall both succeed in the object of our search. I leave
you to hunt in the drawing-rooms, while I ferret in the kitchen. You
may throw yourself on a sofa and exclaim--`Who is my father?' while I
will sit in the cook's lap, and ask her if she may happen to be my
mother."
This sally of Timothy's made even Fleta laugh; and after a little more
remonstrance, I consented that he should perform the part of my valet.
Indeed, the more I reflected upon it, the greater appeared the
advantages which might accrue from the arrangement. By the time that
this point had been settled, we had arrived at the town to which we
directed our steps, and took up our quarters at an inn of moderate
pretensions, but of very great external cleanliness. My first object
was to find out some fitting asylum for little Fleta. The landlady was
a buxom, good-tempered young woman, and I gave the little girl into her
charge, while Timothy and I went out on a survey. I had made up my mind
to put her to some good, but not very expensive, school, if such were to
be found in the vicinity. I should have preferred taking her with me to
London, but I was aware how much more expensive it would be to provide
for her there; and as the distance from the metropolis was but twenty
miles, I could easily run down to see her occasionally. I desired the
little girl to call me her brother, as such I intended to be to her in
future, and not to answer every question they might put to her. There
was, however, little occasion for this caution; for Fleta was, as I
before observed, very unlike children in general. I then went out with
Timothy to look for a tailor, that I might order our clothes, as what we
had on were not either of the very best taste, or in the very best
condition. We walked up the main street, and soon fell in with a
tailor's shop, over which was written in large letters--"Feodor
Shneider, Tailor to his Royal Highness the Prince of Darmstadt."
"Will that do, Japhet?" said Timothy, pointing to the announcement.
"Why yes," replied I; "but how the deuce the Prince of Darmstadt should
have employed a man in a small country town as his tailor, is to me
rather a puzzle."
"Perhaps he made his clothes when he was in Germany," replied Tim.
"Perhaps he did; but, however, he shall have the honour of making mine."
We entered the shop, and I ordered a suit of the most fashionable
clothes, choosing my colours, and being very minute in my directions to
the foreman, who measured me; but as I was leaving the shop the master,
judging by my appearance, which was certainly not exactly that of a
gentleman, ventured to observe that it was customary with _gentlemen_,
whom they had not the honour of knowing, to leave a deposit. Although
the very proposal was an attack upon my gentility, I made no reply; but
pulling out a handful of guineas, laid down two on the counter and
walked away, that I might find another shop at which we might order the
livery of Timothy; but this was only as a reconnoitre, as I did not
intend to order his liveries until I could appear in my own clothes,
which were promised on the afternoon of the next day. There were,
however, several other articles to be purchased, such as a trunk,
portmanteau, hat, gloves, etcetera, all which we procured, and then went
back to the inn. On my return I ordered dinner. Fleta was certainly
clad in her best frock, but bad was the best; and the landlady, who
could extract little from the child, could not imagine who we could be.
I had, however, allowed her to see more than sufficient money to warrant
our expenses; and so far her scruples were, although her curiosity was
not, removed.
That evening I had a long conversation with Fleta. I told her that we
were to part, that she must go to school, and that I would very often
come down to see her. At first, she was inconsolable at the idea; but I
reasoned with her, and the gentle, intelligent creature acknowledged
that it was right. The next day my clothes came home, and I dressed
myself. "Without flattery, Japhet," said Timothy, "you do look very
much like a gentleman." Fleta smiled, and said the same. I thought so
too, but said nothing. Putting on my hat and gloves, and accompanied by
Timothy, I descended to go out and order Tim liveries, as well as a
fitout for Fleta.
After I was out in the street I discovered that I had left my
handkerchief, and returned to fetch it. The landlady, seeing a
gentleman about to enter the inn, made a very low courtesy, and it was
not until I looked hard at her that she recognised me. Then I was
satisfied; it was an involuntary tribute to my appearance, worth all the
flattering assertions in the world. We now proceeded to the other
tailor's in the main street. I entered the shop with a flourishing,
important air, and was received with many bows. "I wish," said I, "to
have a suit of livery made for this young man, who is about to enter
into my service. I cannot take him up to town this figure." The livery
was chosen, and as I expressed my wish to be off the next evening, it
was promised to be ready by an hour appointed.
I then went to a milliner's, and desired that she would call at the inn
to fit out a little girl for school, whose wardrobe had been left behind
by mistake. On the fourth day all was ready. I had made inquiries, and
found out a very respectable school, kept by a widow lady. I asked for
references, which were given, and I was satisfied. The terms were low--
twenty pounds per annum. I paid the first half year in advance, and
lodged fifty guineas more in the hands of a banker, taking a receipt for
it, and giving directions that it was to be paid to the schoolmistress
as it became due. I took this precaution, that should I be in poverty
myself, at all events Fleta might be provided in clothes and schooling
for three years at least. The poor child wept bitterly at the
separation, and I could with difficulty detach her little arms from my
neck; and I felt when I left her as if I had parted with the only
valuable object to me on earth.
All was now ready; but Timothy did not, as yet, assume his new clothes.
It would have appeared strange that one who sat at my table should
afterwards put on my livery; and as in a small town there is always
plenty of scandal, for Fleta's sake, if for no other reason, it was
deferred until our arrival in London. Wishing the landlady good-bye,
who I really believed would have given up her bill to have known who we
could possibly be, we got on the outside of the stage-coach, and in the
evening arrived at the metropolis. I have been particular in describing
all these little circumstances, as it proves how very awkward it is to
jump, without observation, from one station in society to another.