"Very, very glad to see you, my boy," said my friend Broxby, as I
reached his house quite late on Christmas-eve, when he introduced me to
his wife, a most amiable woman of an extremely pleasing countenance; to
Major and Mrs Major Carruthers, a very pimply-faced gentleman, with a
languishing wife troubled with an obliquity of vision, which worried me
greatly that evening from her eye seeming to be gazing upon me, while
its owner wore a perpetual smile upon her lip. Mrs Major Carruthers'
brother was also there, a young man, like myself, of a poetic turn, and
troubled with headaches, besides several others, ladies and gentlemen,
who occupied divers relative distances in connection with my friend
Broxby and his charming wife.
"Why you're as nervous and bashful as ever, my boy," said Broxby, in his
rough, good-natured way, and I tried to laugh it off, particularly as it
was said before so many people in the well-lit drawing-room; but even
before the fearful shock my nerves received I always was of a terribly
nervous temperament, a temperament which makes me extremely susceptible.
As I am now forty I have given up all hopes of ever getting the better
of it, even as I have felt compelled to give up the expectation of
whiskers, curling hair, and--well no, not yet, for, as the poet says,
"We may be happy yet," and some fond, loving breast may yet throb for me
in the future. I may add that my hair is fair, my face slightly
freckled, and that I have a slight lisp, but it is so slight that you do
not notice it when you get used to me.
After a long, cold ride down by train to Ancaster, and a six miles' ride
in Broxby's dog-cart from the station, where I was met by his groom, the
well-lit drawing-room seemed so cheering and comfortable, and as I grew
a little more at home I began to be glad that I had left my chambers to
their fate for the time, and come down to bask awhile in the light of so
many lustrous orbs.
I was just feeling somewhat confused from the fact of Mrs Major
Carruthers having rested her eye upon me and smiled sweetly, when as a
matter of course I felt bound to do either one thing or the other, look
angry and suppose that she was laughing at me, or smile sympathetically
in return. I did the latter, when, as I said before, I became confused
to see that Major Carruthers was frowning fiercely at me, while his face
looked quite currant-dumplingified from the fierce hue assumed by his
pimples. But just at that moment a servant announced something to my
host, who came forward, slapped me on the shoulder, and I followed him
out of the room into his study, where a small table was spread expressly
for my delectation.
"You see we dined two hours ago, Augustus, so I'm going to chat and have
a glass of sherry with you while you freshen up. I thought it would be
more snug for you here in my study, so cut away."
I must confess to having felt hungry, and I directly commenced the meal,
while my friend chatted pleasantly about the party I had met in the
drawing-room.
"Why, we must find you a wife, one of those fair maidens, my boy. A
good, strong-minded, lovable woman would be the making of you. Good
people, those Carruthers, only the Major is so fearfully jealous of his
wife--simple, quiet, good-hearted soul as ever breathed. And oh, by the
bye, I have to apologise to you for something really unavoidable. I
would not trouble you if I could help myself, but I can't. You see the
Major is a first cousin of my wife's, and we always ask them to our
little gatherings, while it so happened that Mrs Major's brother was
staying with them, when, as it was either bring him or stay away
themselves, Laura, my wife you know, thoughtlessly said `Bring him,'
never stopping to think that every bed in the house was engaged. What
to do I could not think, nor where to put him, till at last I said to
myself why Gus Littleboy will help me out of the difficulty, and
therefore, my lad, for two nights only I have to go down on my
inhospitable marrowbones and ask you to sleep double. We've put you in
the blue room, where there's an old four-poster that is first cousin to
the great bed of Ware, so that you can lie almost a quarter of a mile
from each other, more or less you know, so you won't mind, will you old
fellow, just to oblige us you know?"
Of course I promised not to mind, and a great deal more, but still I did
mind it very much, for I omitted to say that, er--that er--I am
extremely modest, and the fact of having a gentleman in the same room
was most painful to my feelings.
We soon after joined the party in the drawing-room; and, feeling
somewhat refreshed, I tried to make myself agreeable, as it was
Christmas-time, and people are expected to come out a little. So I
brought out two or three conjuring tricks that I had purchased in town,
and Broxby showed them off while I tried to play one or two tricks with
cards; but, somehow or another, when Mrs Major Carruthers drew a card,
I had forgotten the trick, and she had to draw another card which she
dropped; and, when it was on the carpet, we both stooped together to
pick it up; and you've no idea how confusing it was, for we knocked our
heads together, when I distinctly heard some one go "Phut" in precisely
the same way as a turkey-cock will when strutting; when, to my intense
dismay, I again found that the Major was scowling at me fiercely.
"Then I should go to bed if I were you, Timothy," I heard Mrs Major say
soon after; and, on looking across the room, I saw that she was talking
to her brother, but her eye was upon me, and she was smiling, so that I
felt perfectly horrified, and looked carefully round at the Major; but
he was playing cards, and did not see me.
So Mr T Peters left the room, and Broxby did all he could to amuse his
visitors, till the ladies, one and all, declared they must retire, when
the gentlemen drew round the fire; and a bright little kettle having
been set upon the hob and a tray of glasses placed upon the table, my
friend brewed what he called a night-cap, a portion of which I left four
of them discussing when Broxby rang for a candlestick, and told the maid
to show me the bedroom.
"Did you have my portmanteau taken up?" I said to the maid.
"Yes, sir."
"And carpet-bag?"
"Yes, sir."
"And writing-case?"
"Oh yes, sir; all there--that's the door, sir; you'll find everything
well-aired, and a nice fire;" and then the maiden tripped off and
disappeared at the back. But I had left my skin rug in the hall; and,
as it was so excessively cold, I went down the broad staircase once
more, and fetched it; returned to the bedroom door, opened it to make
sure I was right--not a doubt of it: nice fire--the great four-post
bedstead with the great blue hangings. No; they were green, and I was
about to start back, only a heavy breath from the bed told me that I was
right; and, besides, I recollected that blue always looked green by
candle-light; and this was the case, too, with the paper I observed.
"Most extraordinary people that Major and his wife," I thought; and then
I wound up my watch, laid it upon the chimney-piece, carefully locked
and bolted the door, and then, drawing a chair up to the fire, sat down
to give my feet a good warm. The room was most comfortably furnished,
and the chair soft and well stuffed; when, what with the heat of the
fire, the cold wind during my ride, and, perhaps, partly owing to the
night-cap I had partaken of, I fell into a sort of doze, and then the
doze deepened into a sleep, in which I dreamed that the Major had called
me out for endeavouring to elope with his wife, when it was that strange
eye of hers which had run away with me, while her set of false teeth
were in full chase behind to seize me like some rabid dog.
The horror became so great at last that I started from my sleep, kicking
the fender as I did so, when the fire-irons clattered loudly.
"What's that?" cried a familiar voice, which sounded rather softly, as
if from beneath the clothes.
"Only the fire-irons, my dear sir," I said, blandly--"I kicked them."
The next moment an exclamation made me turn sharply round; when, horror
of horrors! there was a set of teeth upon the dressing-table, and from
between the curtains of the bed Mrs Major's eyes fixing me in the most
horrifying way.
"Monster!" cried a cracked voice, which sent me sprawling up against the
wash-stand, whose fittings clattered loudly; while at one and the same
moment I heard the voice of the Major talking, and the loud, hearty
laugh of Broxby upon the stairs.
I was melting away fast when more of Mrs Major appeared through the
curtains; in fact, the whole of her head, night-cap, papers and all, and
the cracked voice shrieked--
"Monster, there's help at hand!--Alfred, Alfred, help! help!" and then
the head disappeared; when I heard from inside the curtains a choking,
stifling noise; and then came a succession of shrieks for aid.
"For pity's sake, silence, madam!" I cried, running to the door; but
the next moment I ran back.
"Open this door, here!--open!" roared the Major, kicking and thundering,
so that the panels cracked. "Matilda, my angel, I am here."
"Don't, don't; pray don't scream, ma'am," I implored.
"Oh! oh! oh! help, help, help! murder!" shrieked Mrs Major.
"Here, hi! oh! villain! A man's voice! Break in the door; smash it off
the hinges. I am here, Matilda, I am here. Broxby, what is this?"
roared the Major; and then the door cracked and groaned beneath the
blows thundered upon it.
"Oh! oh! oh!" shrieked Mrs Major.
"What shall I do?" I muttered, wringing my hands and trembling like a
leaf. I ran to the bed to implore Mrs Major to be still, but she only
shrieked the louder. I ran to the door, but fled again on hearing the
thunderings and roarings of the Major, who beat frantically, louder and
louder.
"Sir, sir," I cried, "it's a mistake."
"Oh! villain," he shrieked. "Here, here, a poker; my pistols. Broxby,
there'll be murder done."
"Madam, oh! madam," I cried, in agony, "have pity, and hear me."
"Oh! oh! oh! help! help!" shrieked the wretched woman; when I heard the
door going crack, crack; the panel was smashed in, and the sounds of the
hubbub of voices entered the room, wherein I could detect that of the
Major, more like a wild beast than anything, when, dashing to the
window, I pushed back the fastener, threw up the sash, and crept out,
lowered myself down till I hung by my hands, when, with my last look, I
saw an arm reaching through the broken panel, the bolt slipped, the key
turned, and a rush of people into the room; when, losing my hold, I fell
crash into a tree, and then from branch to branch to the ground, where I
lay, half-stunned, upon the cold snow.
"There he is," shouted a voice from above me, whose effect was like
electricity to my shattered frame, for I leaped up, and gaining the
pathway, fled to the road, and then on towards the station, only pausing
once to listen for the sounds of pursuit and to tie my handkerchief
round my head to screen it from the icy breeze. I ran till I was
breathless, and then walked, but only to run again, and this I kept on
till I had passed the six miles between Broxby's Beat and Ancaster,
where I arrived just before the night mail came in, at a quarter to
four.
One of the porters was very civil, and, supposing that my hat had been
blown off and lost, sold me a very dirty old greasy cap for five
shillings, and then I once more felt safe as I leaned back in a
carriage, and felt that we were going towards London at the rate of
forty miles an hour. But I did not feel thoroughly safe until I had
gained entrance, in the cold dark morning, to my chambers by means of my
latchkey, and having barricaded the door, tried to forget my sorrows in
sleep, but I could not, while, as my laundress supposed that I should be
away for a week, everything was in a most deplorable state, in
consequence of the old woman meaning to have a good clean up on
Boxing-day.
I did not go out for a week, for I had to take precautions for my
health's sake, putting my feet in hot water, and taking gruel for the
bad cold I caught; but for that, and the nervous shock, I was not hurt,
though my clothes were much torn. It was about eight days after that a
letter arrived while I was at breakfast, bearing the Ancaster post-mark,
directed to me in Broxby's familiar hand; but I had read it twice, with
disgust portrayed on every lineament, before I perceived that my late
friend had evidently written to his brother and to me at the same
sitting, when, by some hazard, the letters had been cross-played and put
in the wrong envelopes, for the abominable epistle was as follows:--
"Dear Dick,--You should have come down. Such a spree. My ribs are
sore yet with laughing, and I shall never get over it. I sent old Gus
Littleboy an invite. Poor fool, but no harm in him except blundering.
The Major was here; quite a houseful, in fact. Gus was to sleep with
Tim Peters, and got somehow into the Major's room while he was down
with me finishing the toddy. Murder, my boy. Oh! you should have
been here to hear the screaming, and seen the Major stamp and go on.
He kicked the panel in, when poor Gus fled by the window, and has not
sent for his traps yet. For goodness sake contrive for the Major to
meet him at your place when I'm up next week. It will be splitting,
and of course I can't manage it now.
"Yours affectionately,
"Joe Broxby."
I need scarcely tell a discerning public that I refused the invitation
sent me by Mr Richard Broxby, of Bedford Square, when it arrived the
next week; while when, some months after, I encountered the Major and
his wife upon the platform of the Great Nosham, Somesham, and Podmorton
Railway, I turned all of a cold perspiration, for my nerves will never
recover the shock.