I watched the countenance of the agent, who appeared at last to be
satisfied that there had been some mistake; at least he became more
communicative; and as I no longer put any questions to him relative to
Sir Henry, we had a long conversation. I spoke to him about the De
Benyons, making every inquiry that I could think of. He informed me
that the deceased earl, the father of the present, had many sons, who
were some of them married, and that the family was extensive. He
appeared to know them all, the professions which they had been brought
up to, and their careers in life. I treasured up this information, and,
as soon as I had an opportunity, wrote down all which he had told me.
On our arrival at Holyhead, the weather was very boisterous, and the
packet was to depart immediately. Mr McDermott stated his intentions
to go over, but Mr Cophagus and the professor declined; and, anxious as
I was to proceed, I did not wish to be any longer in company with the
agent, and, therefore, also declined going on board. Mr McDermott
called for a glass of brandy and water, drank it off in haste, and then,
followed by the porter, with his luggage, went down to embark.
As soon as he was gone, I burst into a fit of laughter. "Well, Mr
Cophagus, acknowledge that it is possible to persuade a man out of his
senses. You knew me, and you were perfectly right in asserting that I
was Japhet, yet did I persuade you at last that you were mistaken. But
I will explain to you why I did so."
"All right," said the apothecary, taking my proffered hand, "thought
so--no mistake--handsome fellow--so you are--Japhet Newland--my
apprentice--and so on."
"Yes, sir," replied I, laughing, "I am Japhet Newland." (I turned
round, hearing a noise, the door had been opened, and Mr McDermott had
just stepped in; he had returned for an umbrella, which he had
forgotten; he looked at me, at Mr Cophagus, who still held my hand in
his, turned short round, said nothing, and walked out.) "This is
unfortunate," observed I: "my reason for not avowing myself was to
deceive that very person, and now I have made the avowal to his face;
however, it cannot be helped."
I sat down with my old master, and as I knew that I could confide in
him, gave him an outline of my life, and stated my present intentions.
"I see, Japhet, I see--done mischief--sorry for it--can't be helped--do
all I can--um--what's to be done--be your friend--always like you--help
all I can--and so on."
"But what would you advise, sir?"
"Advice--bad as physic--nobody takes it--Ireland--wild place--no law--
better go back--leave all to me--find out--and so on."
This advice I certainly did not consent to follow.
We argued the matter over for some time, and then it was agreed that we
should proceed together. I was informed by Mr Cophagus that he had
retired with a very handsome fortune, and was living in the country,
about ten miles from the metropolis; that he had been summoned to attend
the funeral of a maiden aunt in Dublin, who had left him executor and
residuary legatee, but that he knew nothing of her circumstances. He
was still a bachelor, and amused himself in giving advice and medicines
gratis to the poor people of the village in which he resided, there
being no resident practitioner within some distance. He liked the
country very much, but there was one objection to it--the _cattle_. He
had not forgotten the _mad bull_. At a very late hour we retired to our
beds: the next morning the weather had moderated, and, on the arrival of
the mail, we embarked, and had a very good passage over. On my arrival
at Dublin I directed my steps to the F--t Hotel, as the best place to
make inquiries relative to Mr De Benyon. Mr Cophagus also put up at
the same hotel, and we agreed to share a sitting-room.
"Waiter," said I, "do you know a Mr De Benyon?"
"Yes, sir," replied he; "there is one of the De Benyons at the hotel at
this moment."
"Is he a married man?"
"Yes--with a large family."
"What is his Christian name?"
"I really cannot tell, sir; but I'll find out for you by to-morrow
morning."
"When does he leave?"
"To-morrow, I believe."
"Do you know where he goes?"
"Yes, sir, to his own seat."
The waiter left the room. "Won't do, Japhet," said Cophagus. "Large
family--don't want more--hard times, and so on."
"No," replied I, "it does not exactly answer; but I may from him obtain
further intelligence."
"Won't do, Japhet--try another way--large family--want all uncle's
money--um--never tell--good night."
This remark of Mr Cophagus gave me an idea, upon which I proceeded the
next morning. I sent in my card requesting the honour of speaking to
Mr De Benyon, stating that I had come over to Ireland on business of
importance, but that, as I must be back if possible by term time, it
would perhaps save much expense and trouble. The waiter took in the
message.
"Back by term time--it must be some legal gentleman. Show him up," said
Mr De Benyon.