IN WHICH MAJOR MCSHANE NARRATES SOME CURIOUS MATRIMONIAL SPECULATIONS.

Our hero was soon fitted out with the livery of a groom, and installed

as the confidential servant of Captain O'Donahue, who had lodgings on

the third floor in a fashionable street. He soon became expert and

useful, and, as the captain breakfasted at home, and always ordered

sufficient for Joey to make another cold meal of during the day, he was

at little or no expense to his master.

One morning, when Captain O'Donahue was sitting in his dressing-gown at

breakfast, Joey opened the door, and announced Major McShane.

"Is it yourself, O'Donahue?" said the major, extending his hand; "and,

now, what d'ye think has brought me here this fine morning? It's to do

a thing that's rather unusual with me,--neither more nor less than to

pay you the 20 pounds which you lent me a matter of three years ago, and

which, I dare say, you never expected to see anything but the ghost of."

"Why, McShane, if the truth must be told, it will be something of a

resurrection when it appears before me," replied O'Donahue; "I

considered it dead and buried; and, like those who are dead and buried,

it has been long forgotten."

"Nevertheless, here it is in four notes--one, two, three, four: four

times five are twenty; there's arithmetic for you, and your money to

boot, and many thanks in the bargain, by way of interest. And now,

O'Donahue, where have you been, what have you been doing, what are you

doing, and what do you intend to do? That's what I call a comprehensive

inquiry, and a very close one too."

"I have been in London a month, I have done nothing, I am doing nothing,

and I don't know what I intend to do. You may take that for a

comprehensive answer."

"I'll tell you all about myself without your asking. I have been in

London for nearly two years, one of which I spent in courting, and the

other in matrimony."

"Why, you don't mean to say that you are married, McShane; if so, as

you've been married a year, you can tell me, am I to give you joy?"

"Why, yes, I believe you may; there's nothing so stupid, O'Donahue, as

domestic happiness, that's a fact; but, altogether, I have been so large

a portion of my life doubtful where I was to get a dinner, that I think

that on the whole I have made a very good choice."

"And may I inquire who is the party to whom Major McShane has

condescended to sacrifice his handsome person?"

"Is it handsome you mane? As the ugly lady said to the looking-glass, I

beg no reflections--you wish to know who she is; well, then, you must be

content to listen to all my adventures from the time we parted, for she

is at the end of them, and I can't read backwards."

"I am at your service, so begin as you please."

"Let me see, O'Donahue, where was it that we parted?"

"If I recollect, it was at the landing made at ---, where you were

reported killed."

"Very true, but that, I gave my honour, was all a lie; it was fat

Sergeant Murphy that was killed, instead of me. He was a terrible

fellow, that Sergeant Murphy; he got himself killed on purpose, because

he never could have passed his accounts; well, he fought like a devil,

so peace be with him. I was knocked down, as you know, with a bullet in

my thigh, and as I could not stand, I sat upon the carcass of Sergeant

Murphy, bound up my leg, and meditated on sublunary affairs. I thought

what a great rogue he was, that Sergeant Murphy, and how he'd gone out

of the world without absolution; and then I thought it very likely that

he might have some money about him, and how much better it would be that

I should have it to comfort me in prison than any rascally Frenchman, so

I put my hand in his pocket and borrowed his purse, which was, taking

the difference of size, as well lined as himself. Well, as you had all

retreated and left me to be taken prisoner, I waited very patiently till

they should come and carry me to the hospital, or wherever else they

pleased. They were not long coming for me: one fellow would have passed

his bayonet through me, but I had my pistol cocked, so he thought it

advisable to take me prisoner. I was taken into the town, not to the

hospital or the prison, but quartered at the house of an old lady of

high rank and plenty of money. Well, the surgeon came and very politely

told me that he must cut off my leg, and I very politely told him to go

to the devil; and the old lady came in and took my part, when she saw

what a handsome leg it was, and sent for another doctor at her own

expense, who promised to set me on my pins in less than a month. Well,

the old lady fell in love with me; and although she was not quite the

vision of youthful fancy, as the saying is, for she had only one tooth

in her head, and that stuck out half an inch beyond her upper lip, still

she had other charms for a poor devil like me; so I made up my mind to

marry her, for she made cruel love to me as I laid in bed, and before I

was fairly out of bed the thing was settled, and a week afterwards the

day was fixed; but her relatives got wind of it, for, like an old fool,

she could not help blabbing, and so one day there came a file of

soldiers, with a corporal at their head, informing me that I was now

quite well, and therefore, if it was all the same to me, I must go to

prison. This was anything but agreeable, and contrary to rule. As an

officer, I was entitled to my parole; and so I wrote to the commanding

officer, who sent for me, and then he told me I had my choice, to give

up the old lady, whose friends were powerful, and would not permit her

to make a fool of herself (a personal remark, by the bye, which it was

unhandsome to make to a gentleman in my circumstances), or to be refused

parole, and remain in prison, and that he would give me an hour to

decide; then he made me a very low bow, and left me. I was twisting the

affair over in my mind, one moment thinking of her purse and carriage

and doubloons, and another of that awful long tooth of hers, when one of

her relatives came in and said he had a proposal to make, which was,

that I should be released and sent to Gibraltar, without any conditions,

with a handsome sum of money to pay my expenses, if I would promise to

give up the old lady now and for ever. That suited my book; I took the

money, took my leave, and a small vessel took me to Gibraltar; so after

all, you see, O'Donahue, the thing did not turn out so bad. I lost only

an old woman with a long tooth, and I gained my liberty."

"No; you got out of that affair with credit."

"And with money, which is quite as good; so when I returned and proved

myself alive, I was reinstated, and had all my arrears paid up. What

with Sergeant Murphy's purse, and the foreign subsidy, and my arrears, I

was quite flush; so I resolved to be circumspect, and make hay while the

sun shone: notwithstanding which, I was as nearly trapped by a cunning

devil of a widow. Two days more, and I should have made a pretty kettle

of fish of it."

"What, at your age, McShane?"

"Ah, bother! but she was a knowing one--a widow on a first floor,

good-looking, buxom, a fine armful, and about thirty--met her at a

party--pointed out to me as without encumbrance, and well off--made up

to her, escorted her home--begged permission to call, was graciously

received--talked of her departed husband, thought me like him--

everything so comfortable--plenty of plate--good furniture--followed her

up--received notes by a little boy in sky-blue and silver sugar-loaf

buttons--sent me all her messages--one day in the week to her banker's

to cash a check. Would you believe the cunning of the creature? She

used to draw out 25 pounds every week, sending me for the money, and, as

I found out afterwards, paid it in again in fifties every fortnight, and

she only had 50 pounds in all. Wasn't I regularly humbugged? Made

proposals--was accepted--all settled, and left off talking about her

departed. One day, and only two days before the wedding, found the

street-door open, and heard a noise between her and her landlady of the

top of the stairs, so I waited at the bottom. The landlady was

insisting upon her rent, and having all her plate back again--my

charming widow entreating for a little delay, as she was to be married--

landlady came downstairs, red as a turkey-cock, so I very politely

begged her to walk into the parlour, and I put a few questions, when I

discovered that my intended was a widow with a pension of 80 pounds

a-year, and had six children, sent out of the way until she could find

another protector, which I resolved, at all events, should not be Major

McShane; so I walked out of the door, and have never seen her since."

"By the head of Saint Patrick, but that was an escape!"

"Yes, indeed, the she-devil with six children, and 80 pounds a year;

it's a wicked world this, O'Donahue. Well, I kept clear of such cunning

articles, and only looked after youth and innocence in the city. At

last I discovered the only daughter of a German sugar-baker in the

Minories, a young thing about seventeen, but very little for her age.

She went to a dancing-school, and I contrived, by bribing the maid, to

carry on the affair most successfully, and she agreed to run away with

me: everything was ready, the postchaise was at the corner of the

street, she came with her bundle in her hand. I thrust it into the

chaise, and was just tossing her in after it, when she cried out that

she had forgotten something, and must go back for it; and away she went,

slipping through my fingers. Well, I waited most impatiently for her

appearance, and at last saw her coming; and what d'ye think she'd gone

back for? By the powers, for _her doll_, which she held in her hand!

And just as she came to the chaise, who should come round the corner but

her father, who had walked from Mincing Lane. He caught my mincing Miss

by the arm, with her doll and her bundle, and bundled her home, leaving

me and the postchaise, looking like two fools. I never could see her

again, or her confounded doll either."

"You have been out of luck, McShane."

"I'm not sure of that, as the affair has ended. Now comes another

adventure, in which I turned the tables, anyhow. I fell in with a very

pretty girl, the daughter of a lawyer in Chancery Lane, who was said to

have, and (I paid a shilling at Doctors' Commons, and read the will) it

was true enough, an independent fortune from her grandmother. She was

always laughing full of mischief and practical jokes. She pretended to

be pleased, the hussey, with my addresses, and at last she consented, as

I thought, to run away with me. I imagined that I had clinched the

business at last, when one dark night I handed her into a chaise,

wrapped up in a cloak, and crying. However, I got her in, and away we

went as if the devil was behind us. I coaxed her and soothed her, and

promised to make her happy; but she still kept her handkerchief up to

her eyes, and would not permit me a chaste salute--even pushed me away

when I would put my arm round her waist; all which I ascribed to the

extra shame and modesty which a woman feels when she is doing wrong. At

last, when about fifteen miles from town, there was a burst of laughter,

and `I think we have gone far enough, Major McShane.' By all the saints

in the calendar, it was her scamp of a brother that had taken her place.

`My young gentleman,' said I, `I think you have not only gone far

enough, but, as I shall prove to you, perhaps a little too far,' for I

was in no fool of a passion. So I set to, beat him to a mummy, broke

his nose, blackened both his eyes, and knocked half his teeth down his

throat; and when he was half dead, I opened the chaise door as it

whirled along, and kicked him out to take his chance of the wheels, or

any other wheels which the wheel of fortune might turn up for him. So

he went home and told his sister what a capital joke it was, I've no

doubt. I'll be bound the young gentleman has never run away with an

Irishman since that: however, I never heard any more about him, or his

lovely sister."

"Now, then, for the wind up, McShane."

"Courting's very expensive, especially when you order postchaises for

nothing at all, and I was very nearly at the end of my rhino; so I said

to myself, `McShane, you must retrench.' And I did so; instead of

dining at the coffee-house, I determined to go to an eating-house, and

walked into one in Holborn, where I sat down to a plate of good beef and

potatoes, and a large lump of plum-pudding, paid 1 shilling and 6 pence,

and never was better pleased in my life; so I went there again, and

became a regular customer; and the girls who waited laughed with me, and

the lady who kept the house was very gracious. Now, the lady was

good-looking, but she was rather too fat; there was an amiable look

about her, even when she was carving beef; and by degrees we became

intimate, and I found her a very worthy creature, and as simple-minded

as a child, although she could look sharp after her customers. It was,

and is now, a most thriving establishment--nearly two hundred people

dine there every day. I don't know how it was, but I suppose I first

fell in love with her beef; and then with her fair self; and finding

myself well received at all times, I one day, as she was carving a

beefsteak-pie which might have tempted a king for its fragrance, put the

question to her, as to how she would like to marry again. She blushed,

and fixed her eyes down upon the hole she had made in the pie, and then

I observed that if there was a hole in my side as big as there was in

the pie before her, she would see her image in my heart. This pretty

simile did the business for me, and in a month we were married; and I

never shall want a dinner as long as I live, either for myself or

friend. I will put you on the free list, O'Donahue, if you can

condescend to a cook's shop: and I can assure you that I think I have

done a very wise thing, for I don't want to present any wife at Court,

and I have a very comfortable home."

"You have done a wise thing, in my opinion, McShane--you have a wife who

makes money, instead of one who spends it."

"And, moreover, I have found my bargain better that I anticipated, which

is seldom the case in this world of treachery and deceit. She has

plenty of money, and is putting by more every year."

"Which you have the control of, at your disposition, do you mean to

say?"

"Why, yes, I may say that now; but, O'Donahue, that is owing to my

circumspection and delicacy. At first starting, I determined that she

should not think that it was only her money that I wanted; so, after we

were married, I continued to find myself, which, paying nothing for

board and lodging and washing, I could easily do upon my half-pay; and I

have done so ever since, until just now."

"I had not been married a week before I saw that she expected I would

make inquiries into the state of her finances, but I would not. At

last, finding that I would not enter into the business, she did, and

told me that she had 17,000 pounds Consols laid by, and that the

business was worth 1,000 pounds per annum (you may fish at Cheltenham a

long while, O'Donahue, before you get such a haul as that). So I told

her I was very glad she was well off, and then I pretended to go fast

asleep, as I never interfered with her, and never asked for money. At

last she didn't like it, and offered it to me; but I told her I had

enough, and did not want it; since which she has been quite annoyed at

my not spending money; and when I told her this morning that there was a

brother officer of mine arrived in town, to whom I had owed some money

for a long while, she insisted upon my taking money to pay it, put a

pile of bank-notes in my had, and was quite mortified when she found I

only wanted 20 pounds. Now you see, O'Donahue, I have done this from

principle. She earns the money, and therefore she shall have the

control of it as long as we are good friends; and upon my honour, I

really think I love her better than I ever thought I could love any

woman in the world for she has the temper, the kindness, and the charity

of an angel, although not precisely the figure; but one can't have

everything in this world; and so now you have the whole of my story, and

what do you think of it?"

"You must present me to your wife, McShane."

"That I will with pleasure. She's like her rounds of beef--it's cut and

come again; but her heart is a beauty, and so is her beefsteak-pie--when

you taste it."

The Poacher; Or, Joseph Rushbrook · 第 20 / 100 题