“If a dream should come in now to make you afear'd,
With a wind-mill on his head, and bells at his beard;
Would you straight wear your spectacles here at your toes,
And your boots on your brows, and your spurs on your nose?”
--_Ben Jonson_.
“No-----he
With more than Roman fortitude is ever
First at the board in this unhappy process
Against his last and only son.”
--_The Two Foscari._
DREAMS, ye strange mysterious visions of the soul! Ye wild and freakish
gambolings of the spirit, freed from the incubus of matter, and
unfettered by the control of reason, of what fantastic caprices are ye
the originators ~137~~--what caricatures of the various features of our
waking life do ye not exhibit to us, ludicrous and distorted indeed, but
still preserving through their most extravagant exaggerations a wayward
and grotesque likeness to the realities they shadow forth! And stranger
even than your most strange vagaries, is the cool matter-of-fact way in
which our sleeping senses calmly accept and acquiesce in the medley of
impossible absurdities you offer to their notice. We conceive ourselves,
for instance, proceeding along a green lane on horseback; the animal
upon which we are mounted becomes suddenly, we know and care not how,
a copper tea-kettle, and we ride quietly on without testifying, or
even feeling, the least symptom of surprise, as though the identity
of hackneys and tea-kettles was a fact generally recognised in natural
history; the kettle perhaps addresses us, it converses with us on all
the subjects which interest us most deeply; and we discuss our various
hopes and fears, joys and sorrows, loves and hates, with no other
sentiment, save a degree of pleasure at the very sensible and
enlightened views which the utensil takes of the matter. I might
multiply examples, ad infinitum, to illustrate my meaning; but to
those who are familiar with the phenomena alluded to one instance will
suffice; while those who have never experienced them will probably,
at all events, take refuge in disbelief, and lament themselves with a
self-satisfying sorrow over the fresh proof it adduces of the truth of
the Israelitish monarch's aphorism, that “all men are liars “.
Be this as it may, my sleep (when, at length, after the excitement I had
undergone, sleep condescended to visit me, which was not until, contrary
to all the rules of good breeding, Somnus had allowed me to call upon
him repeatedly in vain) was disturbed by all sorts and kinds of visions.
Lawlesses innumerable, attended by shoals of top-booted shrimps--the
visionary shrimp being a sort of compromise between the boy so called
and the real article--drove impossible dog-carts drawn by quadrupeds
whose heads and necks bore a striking resemblance to the waltz-loving
Diana Clapperton, up and down ball-rooms, to the unspeakable terror
of squadrons of turbaned old ladies. Deafening peals of bells, rung
by troops of Freddy ColeMEN (which I take to be the correct plural
of Coleman), were rousing night-capped nations from their slumbers
in alarm, to whom flocks of frightened mayors were bleating forth
bewildered orders, which resulted in perplexing everybody; and through
it all, mixed up and combined with everything, the pale interesting face
of Clara Saville, ~138~~characterised by an expression of the deepest
sadness, gazed at me reproachfully out of its large trustful eyes, and
rendered me intensely miserable. From dreams such as these I was
not sorry to be aroused by the sun shining brightly through my
window-shutter; and, on consulting my watch, I found, somewhat to my
surprise, that I had slept till nearly midday.
On reaching the breakfast-room my first inquiry was for Lawless, in
reply to which, I was informed that he had returned (on the fire-engine)
about half an hour after I came in; that immediately upon his arrival
he had called for unlimited supplies of rum, lemons, and other suitable
ingredients, wherewith he manufactured a monster brewing of punch in
a washing-tub for the benefit of the firemen, with whom he had somehow
contrived to establish the most amicable relations; he then assisted in
discussing the beverage he had prepared, which appeared to produce no
particular effects until, wishing to rise to return thanks when they
drank his health, he suddenly lost his balance, and being carried to bed
by the waiter and boots, had not yet reappeared. Not liking to disturb
him, I breakfasted alone, and then strolled out to look after Freddy. I
found him sitting in the study, busily engaged in drawing the lease he
had mentioned to us the night before. On seeing me, however, he
sprang up, and, shaking me by the hand, inquired how I was after our
adventures.
“That's all right, so far,” was his reply to my assurance that my
injured arm was going on favourably, and that I felt no other ill
effects of any kind. “I tell you what,” he continued, “my governor's in
no end of a rage about the bell-ringing affair: that old fool of a mayor
recognised me it seems, and vows vengeance, threatening to do all sorts
of things to me, and the governor swears he'll aid and abet him in
anything he chooses to do. They had better take care what they are at,
or they may find I'm not to be bullied with impunity; but come along
into the drawing-room; I don't mind facing the elders now I've got you
to support me; and really, what between my father's accusations and my
mother's excuses, it's as good as a play.”
“You're abominably undutiful, Master Fred,” replied I, as I turned to
follow him.
On reaching the drawing-room we found Mr. Coleman standing with his arms
folded with an air of dignified severity, so exactly in the centre of
the hearth-rug that he seemed to belong to the pattern. Seated in a
low arm-chair on the right-hand side of the fireplace was Mrs.
~139~~Coleman, apparently absorbed in the manufacture of some mysterious
article of knitting, which constantly required propitiating by the
repetition of a short arithmetical puzzle, without which it would by no
means allow itself to be created. At her feet, engaged in the Sisyphian
labour of remedying the effects of “a great fall” in worsteds, scissors,
and other “articles for the work-table,” knelt Lucy Markham, looking
so piquante and pretty, that I could not help wondering how my friend
Freddy contrived to keep himself heart-whole, if, as I imagined, he was
thrown constantly into her society. The party was completed by a large,
sleek, scrupulously white cat, clearly a privileged individual, who sat
bolt upright in the chair opposite Mrs. Coleman, regarding the company
with an air of intense self-satisfaction, and evidently considering the
whole thing got up for her express delectation. Mr. Coleman received me
with pompous civility, hoping I felt no ill effects from my exertions in
the _earlier_ part of the evening--taking care to lay a marked emphasis
on the word earlier. Lucy acknowledged my presence by a smile and a
slight inclination of the head, but without altering her position.
Worthy Mrs. Coleman, however, jumped up and shook hands warmly with me,
thereby providing Lucy with full employment for the next ten minutes in
picking up the whole machinery of the knitting.
“Very glad indeed to see you, Mr. Lawless,” commenced Mrs. Coleman.
“It's Fairlegh, mother,” interposed Freddy.
“Yes, my dear, yes, I knew it was Mr. Fairlegh, only I'm always making a
mistake about names; but I never forget a face I have once seen; and
I'm sure I'm not likely to forget Mr. Fairlegh's after the noble way in
which he behaved last night” (here Mr. Coleman turned away with a kind
of ironical growl, and began caressing the cat). “I declare when I saw
him setting Clara Saville's dress on fire, so nicely made as it was
too----”
“My dear aunt,” remonstrated Lucy, “it was Mr. Lawless who threw down
the candelabrum, and set Clara's frock alight.”
“Yes, my love, I know, I saw it all, my dear; and very kind it was of
him, I mean afterwards, in speaking to me of it; he said he was so very
sorry about it--and he called it something funny, poor young man--'no
end of a something or other '------”
“Sell,” suggested Freddy.
“Oh yes, that was it, no end of a sell. What did he mean by that, my
dear?”
~140~~“I strongly disapprove,” observed Mr. Coleman (who still continued
stroking the cat as he spoke, which process he performed by passing his
hand deliberately from her head, along her back, to the very tip of
her tail, which he retained each time in his grasp for a moment, ere he
recommenced operations), “I highly disapprove of the absurd practice, so
common with young men of the present day, of expressing their ideas
in that low and incomprehensible dialect, termed 'slang,' which, in my
opinion, has neither wit nor refinement to redeem its vulgarity, and
which effectually prevents their acquiring that easy yet dignified mode
of expression which should characterise the conversation of the true
gentleman. In _my_ younger days we took Burke for our model; the
eloquence of Pitt and Fox gave the tone to society; and during our hours
of relaxation we emulated the polished wit of Sheridan; but it is
a symptom of that fearful levelling system which is one of the most
alarming features of the present age; instead of striving to raise and
exalt------”
“Really, my dear Mr. Coleman, I beg your pardon for interrupting you,”
cried his wife, “but this is the second time you've lifted my poor
little cat off her hind legs by her tail; and though she's as good as
gold, and lets you do just what you like to her, it can't be pleasant
for her, I'm sure.”
The only reply to this, if reply it can be called, was an angry “Psha!”
and, turning on his heel, Mr. Coleman strode with great dignity towards
the window, though the effect was considerably marred by his stumbling
against an ottoman which stood in the way, and hurting his shin to
an extent which entailed rubbing, albeit a sublunary and un-Spartan
operation, as a necessary consequence. A pause ensued, which at length
became so awkward that I was about to hazard some wretched commonplace
or other, for the sake of breaking the silence, when Mrs. Coleman
addressed me with:--
“You'll take some luncheon, Mr. Lawless, I'm sure. Freddy, _ring the
bell!_”
“He'll be ready enough to do that,” growled Mr. Coleman; “you could not
have asked a fitter person.”
“Of course he will, a dear fellow,” replied Mrs. Coleman; “he's always
ready to oblige anybody.”
“I disapprove greatly of such extreme facility of disposition,” observed
Mr. Coleman; “it lays a young man open to every temptation that comes in
his way; and, for want of a proper degree of firmness and self-respect,
he gets led into all kinds of follies and excesses.”
~141~~“Now, my dear Mr. Coleman,” returned his wife, “I cannot bear to
hear you talk in that way; you are too hard upon poor Freddy and his
young friends; I'm certain they meant no harm;--if they _did_ ring the
bells by way of a joke, I daresay they had drunk rather more champagne
than was prudent, and scarcely knew what they were about; and really all
they seem to have done was to make people get up a little sooner than
usual, and that is rather a good thing than otherwise, for I'm sure if
you did but know the trouble I have sometimes in getting the maids out
of bed in the morning--and that lazy fine gentleman of a footman too,
he's just as bad.--Why, what's the matter now?”
“I really am astonished at you, Mrs. Coleman,” exclaimed her husband,
walking hurriedly across the room--although this time he took good care
to avoid the ottoman, “encouraging that boy of yours in such scandalous
and ungentlemanly proceedings as those he was engaged in last night!
No harm, indeed! I only hope (that is, I don't hope it at all, for he
deserves to be punished, and I wish he may) that the laws of his country
may think there's no harm in it. Mr. Dullmug, the mayor, intends, very
properly in my opinion, to appeal to those laws; that is a thing, I am
proud to say, no Englishman ever does in vain. You may smile, sir,” he
continued, detecting Freddy in the act of telegraphing to me his dissent
from the last doctrine propounded. “You may ridicule your old father's
opinion, but you'll find it no laughing matter to clear yourself,
and justify your conduct, in a court of justice. They may bring it in
conspiracy, for I daresay you plotted it all beforehand; they may bring
it in riot and illegal assembly, for there were three of you engaged in
it; they may bring it in treason, for you incited his majesty's subjects
to commit a broach of the peace, and interfered with the proper officers
in the discharge of their duty: 'pon my word I don't know that they may
not bring it in murder, for the poor child that had the measles in the
town died between six and seven o'clock this morning, and no doubt the
confusion had something to do with accelerating its death. So, sir, if
you're not hanged, you're certain to be transported; and don't ask me
to assist you; I've lived by supporting the law for fifty years, and I'm
not going in my old age to lend my countenance to those who break it,
and set it at nought, though my own son be one of them. I have spoken
my mind plainly, Mr. Fairlegh, more so perhaps than I should have done
before a guest ~142~~in my own house, but it is a matter upon which I
feel deeply. I wish you good-morning, sir.” So saying, he turned away,
and stalked majestically out of the room, closely followed, not to say
imitated, by the cat, who held her tail erect, so as to form a right
angle with the line of her back, and walked with a hypocritical air of
meek dignity and chastened self-approval.
“That's what I call pleasant and satisfactory,” exclaimed Freddy, after
a pause, during which each member of the party exchanged glances of
consternation with somebody else. “Who would ever have imagined the
possibility of the governor's turning cantankerous--assuming the
character of the Roman father upon the shortest possible notice, and
thirsting to sacrifice his son on the altar of the outraged laws of his
country! What an interesting victim I shall make, to be sure! Lucy must
lend me that wreath of roses she looked so pretty in last night, to wear
at the fatal ceremony. And my dear mother shall stand near, tearing out
those revered locks of hers by handfuls.” (The reader should perhaps
be informed that Mrs. Coleman rejoiced in a false front of so open and
ingenuous a nature, that from its youth upwards it never could have been
guilty of deceiving any one.) “May I ring and tell John to have all the
carving knives sharpened? it would be more satisfactory to my feelings
not to be slaughtered with a blunt weapon.”
“Don't talk in that way, Frederick,” cried Mrs. Coleman. “I'm sure your
father would never think of doing such dreadful things; but I believe
you're only making fun of him, which isn't at all right of you. I'm not
a bit surprised at his being angry with you, when you know how steady
he always says he was as a young man (not that I ever quite believe it,
though); _he_ never went ringing bells, however late he might stay out
at night, that I heard of (though I should never have known it if he
had, very likely). I don't myself see any great harm in it, you know,
Mr. Fairless, particularly after your saving poor Clara Saville, and
Freddy from drowning, when you were all boys together--indeed I shall
always have the highest opinion of you for it, only I wish you had never
done it at all, either of you, because of making your father so angry,
you I mean, Frederick.”
“Have you received any account of Miss Saville this morning?” inquired
I, anxious to change the conversation; for I could see that Freddy,
despite his assumed indifference, was a good deal annoyed at the
serious light in which the old gentleman seemed to look upon our
~143~~_escapade_. “I should be glad to know that she was none the worse
for all the alarm she must have suffered.”
“No, we have not heard anything of her,” replied Lucy. “Should we not
send to inquire after her, aunt?”
“Certainly, my dear Lucy; I am glad you have reminded me; I always meant
to send, only all this has put it out of my head.”
“Now, Frank, there's a splendid chance for you,” exclaimed Freddy;
“nothing can be more correct than for you to call and make the proper
inquiries in person; and then if old Stiff-back should happen not to be
at home, and you can contrive to get let in, and the young lady be not
actually a stone----”
“Indeed, Frederick, she is nothing of the kind,” interrupted Lucy
warmly; “if you only knew her, you would be astonished to find what deep
warm feelings are concealed beneath that calm manner of hers; but she
has wonderful self-control. I could see last night how much she was
grieved at being obliged to go away without having thanked Mr. Fairlegh
for saving her.”
“Give her a chance to repair the error to-day, by all means, then,”
said Freddy; “and if you should succeed in gaining an interview, and
she really is anxious to do a little bit of the grateful, and old Vernor
does not kick you downstairs, I shall begin to regret that I didn't
extinguish her myself.”
“I really have a great mind to follow your advice,” returned I; “it is
only proper to inquire after the young lady, and they need not let me in
unless they like.”
“If you should see her, Mr. Lawlegh,” said Mrs. Coleman, “tell her from
me how very much vexed I was about the candelabrum being thrown down and
setting fire to her dress; it was made of the very best Dresden china,
and must have cost (only it was a present, which made it all the more
valuable, you know) fifteen or sixteen guineas; and I'm sure I wonder,
now I come to think of it, why it did not flare up and burn her to
death; but you were so quick and clever, and entirely spoilt that
beautiful whittle of old Mrs. Trottles, with the greatest presence of
mind; and I'm sure we ought all to be thankful to you for it; and we
shall be delighted to see her when she has quite recovered it, tell her,
particularly Lucy, who is nearest her own age, you know.”
“Let me see,” said Freddy, musing; “Mrs. Trottles must be seventy-two if
she is a day; 'pon my word, Lucy, you're the youngest-looking woman
of your age I ever ~144~~met with; if I had not heard my mother say it
myself, I'd never have believed it.”
“Believed what, Freddy? What have I said?” asked Mrs. Coleman.
“That Lucy was Mrs. Trottles' most intimate friend, because she was
nearest her own age,” returned Freddy.
“No such thing, sir; I said, or I meant to say--only you are so tiresome
with your jokes, that you puzzle one--that Lucy being her own age,
I mean Clara's, Mr. Fairless was to tell her how very glad she would
be--and very natural it is for young people to like young people--to see
her; and I hope you'll remember to tell her all I have said exactly, Mr.
Fairless, for I'm always anxious to try to please and amuse her, she's
so very dull and stupid, poor thing!”
To perform this utter impossibility I faithfully pledged myself; and,
taking a hasty farewell of the ladies, hurried out of the room
to conceal a fit of laughter which had been gradually becoming
irrepressible.
“Laugh away, old boy,” cried Freddy, who had accompanied me into the
hall; “no wonder I'm an odd fellow, for, as Pat would say, my mother was
one before me, and no mistake. I wish you luck with the fair Clara--not
that you'll see her--old Vernor will take care of that somehow or other;
even if he's not at home, he'll have locked her up safely before he went
out, depend upon it.”
“You do not mean that in sober earnest?” said I.
“Perhaps not actually in fact,” replied Freddy, “but in effect I believe
he does. Clara tells Lucy she never sees any one.”
“She shall see me to-day, if I can possibly contrive it,” said I. “Oh
for the good old days of chivalry, when knocking the guardian on the
head, and running away with the imprisoned damsel afterwards, would
have been accounted a very moral and gentlemanlike way of spending the
morning!”
“Certainly, they had a pleasant knack of simplifying matters, 'those
knights of old,'” replied Freddy; “but it's not a line of business that
would have suited me at all; in balancing their accounts, the kicks
always appear to have obtained a very uncomfortable preponderance over
the halfpence; besides, the _causa belli_ was a point on which their
ideas were generally in a deplorable state of confusion: when one kills
a man, it's as well to have some slight notion _why_ one does it; and
the case comes home to one still more closely if it's somebody else
who's going to kill you.”
“You're about right there, Master Freddy,” said I, smiling as I shook
hands with him, and quitted the house. %