I DECIDE UPON HONESTY AS THE BEST POLICY, AND WHAT IS MORE STRANGE,
RECEIVE LEGAL ADVICE UPON THIS IMPORTANT POINT.
Timothy and I burst into laughter. "Really, Timothy," observed I, "it
appears that very little art is necessary to deceive the world, for in
every instance they will deceive themselves. The Jew is off my
conscience, at all events, and now he never will be paid, until--"
"Until when, Japhet?"
"Until I find out my father," replied I.
"Everything is put off till that time arrives, I observe," said Timothy.
"Other people will soon be as interested in the search as yourself."
"I wish they were; unfortunately it is a secret, which cannot be
divulged."
A ring at the bell called Timothy down stairs; he returned with a
letter, it was from Lord Windermear, and ran as follows:--
"My dear Newland,--I have been thinking about you ever since you left
me this morning, and as you appear resolved to prosecute your search,
it has occurred to me that you should go about it in a more systematic
way. I do not mean to say that what I now propose will prove of any
advantage to you, but still it may, as you will have a very old, and
very clever head to advise with. I refer to Mr Masterton, my legal
adviser, from whom you had the papers which led to our first
acquaintance. He is aware that you were (I beg your pardon) an
impostor, as he has since seen Mr Estcourt. The letter enclosed is
for him, and with that in your hand you may face him boldly, and I
have no doubt but that he will assist you all in his power, and put
you to no expense. Narrate your whole history to him, and then you
will hear what he may propose. He has many secrets, much more
important than yours. Wishing you every success that your
perseverance deserves, Believe me,--
"Yours very truly,--
"Windermear."
"I believe the advice to be good," said I, after reading the letter. "I
am myself at fault, and hardly know how to proceed. I think I will go
at once to the old gentleman, Timothy."
"It can do no harm, if it does no good. Two heads are better than one,"
replied Timothy. "Some secrets are too well kept, and deserting a child
is one of those which is confided but to few."
"By-the-by, Timothy, here have I been, more than so many years out of
the Foundling Hospital, and have never yet inquired if anyone has ever
been to reclaim me."
"Very true; and I think I'll step myself to the workhouse, at Saint
Bridget's, and ask whether anyone has asked about me," replied Timothy,
with a grin.
"There is another thing that I have neglected," observed I, "which is,
to inquire at the address in Coleman Street, if there is any letter from
Melchior."
"I have often thought of him," replied Timothy. "I wonder who he can
be--there is another mystery there. I wonder whether we shall ever fall
in with him again--and Nattee, too?"
"There's no saying, Timothy. I wonder where that poor fool, Philotas,
and our friend Jumbo, are now?"
The remembrance of the two last personages made us both burst out a
laughing.
"Timothy, I've been reflecting that my intimacy with poor Carbonnell has
rather hindered than assisted me in my search. He found me with a good
appearance, and he has moulded me into a gentleman, so far as manners,
and appearance are concerned; but the constant vortex, in which I have
been whirled in his company has prevented me from doing anything. His
melancholy death has perhaps been fortunate for me. It has left me more
independent in circumstances and more free. I must now really set to in
earnest."
"I beg your pardon, Japhet, but did not you say the same when we first
set off on our travels, and yet remain more than a year with the
gipsies? Did not you make the same resolution when we arrived in town,
with our pockets full of money, and yet, once into fashionable society,
think but little, and occasionally, of it? Now you make the same
resolution, and how long will you keep it?"
"Nay, Timothy, that remark is hardly fair; you know that the subject is
ever in my thoughts."
"In your thoughts, I grant, very frequently; but you have still been led
away from the search."
"I grant it, but I presume that arises from not knowing how to proceed.
I have a skein to unravel, and cannot find out an end to commence with."
"I always thought people commenced with the beginning," replied Tim,
laughing.
"At all events, I will now try back, and face the old lawyer. Do you
call at Coleman Street, Tim, and at Saint Bridget's also, if you
please."
"As for Saint Bridget's, I'm in no particular hurry about my mother; if
I stumble upon her I may pick her up, but I never make diligent search
after what, in every probability, will not be worth the finding."
Leaving Timothy to go his way, I walked to the house at Lincoln's Inn,
which I had before entered upon the memorable occasion of the papers of
Estcourt. As before, I rang the bell, the door swang open, and I was
once more in the presence of Mr Masterton.
"I have a letter, sir," said I, bowing, and presenting the letter from
Lord Windermear.
The old gentleman peered at me through his spectacles. "Why! we have
met before--bless me--why you're the rogue that--"
"You are perfectly right, sir," interrupted I. "I am the rogue who
presented the letter from Lord Windermear, and who presents you with
another from the same person; do me the favour to read it, while I take
a chair."
"Upon my soul--you impudent--handsome dog, I must say--great pity--come
for money, I suppose. Well, it's a sad world," muttered the lawyer as
he broke open the letter of Lord Windermear.
I made no reply, but watched his countenance, which changed to that of
an expression of surprise. "Had his lordship sent me a request to have
you hanged, if possible," said Mr Masterton, "I should have felt no
surprise; but in this letter he praises you, and desires me to render
you all the service in my power. I can't understand it."
"No, sir; but if you have leisure to listen to me, you will then find
that, in this world, we may be deceived by appearances."
"Well, and so I was, when I first saw you; I never could have believed
you to be--but never mind."
"Perhaps, sir, in an hour or two you will again alter your opinion. Are
you at leisure, or will you make an appointment for some future day?"
"Mr Newland, I am not at leisure--I never was more busy; and if you had
come on any legal business, I should have put you off for three or four
days, at least; but my curiosity is so raised, that I am determined that
I will indulge it at the expense of my interest. I will turn the key,
and then you will oblige me by unravelling, what, at present, is to me
as curious as it is wholly incomprehensible."