TAKES VERTY TO MR. ROUNDJACKET.
As Mr. Jinks went along, thus absorbed in his dreams of vengeance, he
chanced to raise his head; which movement made him aware of the fact
that a gentleman with whom he was well acquainted rode in the same
direction with himself--that is to say, toward Bousch's tavern.
This was Verty, who, absorbed as completely by his own thoughts as was
Mr. Jinks, did not see that gentleman until Cloud very nearly walked
over the diminutive Fodder.
Mr. Jinks laid his hand on his sword, and frowned; for it was one of
the maxims of this great militaire, that one is never more apt to
escape an attack than when he appears to hold himself in readiness,
and seems prepared for either event.
Verty did not consider himself bound, however, to engage in a combat
at the moment; and so with grave politeness, bowed and passed on his
way.
They arrived at the tavern nearly at the same moment.
Ralph was sitting on the porch, inhaling the fresh October air, gazing
at the bright waves of the little stream which sparkled by beneath
the willows; and at times varying these amusements by endeavoring
to smoke from a pipe which had gone out, He looked the picture of
indolent enjoyment.
Within a few feet of him sat the ruddy, full-faced landlord, as idle
as himself.
At sight of Mr. Jinks and Verty, Ralph rose, with a smile, and came
toward them.
"Ah! my dear Jinks," he said, after bowing to Verty familiarly, "how
did you get out of that scrape? I regret that business of a private
and important nature forced me to leave you, and go round the corner.
How did it result?"
"Triumphantly, sir!" said Mr. Jinks, dismounting, and, with great
dignity, entrusting Fodder to a stable-boy, lounging near; "that
hound, O'Brallaghan, knew his place, sir, and did not presume to
complain--"
"Of Fodder?"
"Of anything, sir."
"The fact is, it would have been ridiculous. What had he to complain
of, I should like to be informed. So he retreated?"
"He did, sir," said Mr. Jinks, with dignity, "amid the hisses of the
assembled crowd."
"Just as I suspected; it would take a bold fellow to force such a Don
Quixote and Dapple, as yourself and Fodder!"
"Yes; although I regretted," said Mr. Jinks, with great dignity, "the
accident which occurred when we set out, I rejoice at having had an
occasion to inform that Irish conspirator and St. Michael-hater, that
I held him in opprobrious contempt."
And Mr. Jinks glanced at the landlord.
"He was making the breeches for St. Michael, whom he is to represent,"
said Mr. Jinks, "day after to-morrow; and I have not done with
him--the Irish villain!"
Mr. Jinks looked again, significantly, at the host.
That gentleman had not lost a word of the conversation, and his sleepy
eyes now opened. He beckoned to Mr. Jinks. A smile illumined the
countenance of the worthy--the landlord was a German;--the plot
against Irish O'Brallaghan was gaining strength.
The landlord rose, and, with a significant look, entered the house,
followed by Mr. Jinks, who turned his head, as he disappeared, to cast
a triumphant look upon Ralph.
No sooner had he passed from sight, than Ralph turned to Verty, who
had sat quietly upon Cloud, during this colloquy, and burst into
laughter.
"That is the greatest character I have ever known, Verty," he said;
"and I have been amusing myself with him all the morning."
Verty was thinking, and without paying much attention to Ralph,
smiled, and said:
"Anan?--yes--"
"I believe you are dreaming."
"Oh, no--only thinking," said Verty, smiling; "I can't get out of the
habit, and I really don't think I heard you. But I can't stop. Here's
a note Redbud asked me to give you--for Fanny. She said you might be
going up to old Scowley's--"
"Might be! I rather think I am! Ah, Miss Redbud, you are a mischievous
one. But why take the trouble to say that of the divine sex? They're
all dangerous, scheming and satirical."
"Anan?" said Verty, smiling, as he tossed Ralph the note.
"Don't mind me," said Ralph; "I was just talking, as usual, at random,
and slandering the sex. But what are you sitting there for, my dear
Verty? Get down and come in. I'm dying of weariness."
Verty shook his head.
"I must go and see Mr. Roundjacket," he said.
"What! is he sick?"
"Yes."
"Much?"
Verty smiled.
"I think not," he said; "but I don't know--I havn't much time;
good-bye."
And touching Cloud with the spur, Verty went on. Ralph looked
after him for a moment, twirled the note in his fingers, read
the superscription,--"To Miss Fanny Temple,"--and then, laughing
carelessly, lounged into the house, intent on making a third in the
councils of those great captains, Mr. Jinks and the landlord.
We shall accompany Verty, who rode on quietly, and soon issued from
the town--that is to say, the more bustling portion of it; for
Winchester, at that time, consisted of but two streets, and even these
were mere roads, as they approached the suburbs.
Roundjacket's house was a handsome little cottage, embowered in trees,
on the far western outskirts of the town. Here the poet lived in
bachelor freedom, and with a degree of comfort which might have
induced any other man to be satisfied with his condition. We know,
from his own assertion, that Roundjacket was not;--he had an excellent
little house, a beautiful garden, every comfort which an ample
"estate" could bring him, but he had no wife. That was the one thing
needful.
Verty dismounted, and admiring the beautiful sward, the well tended
flowers, and the graceful appendages of the mansion--from the bronze
knocker, with Minerva's head upon it, to the slight and comfortable
wicker smoking-chairs upon the porch--opened the little gate, and
knocked.
An old negro woman, who superintended, with the assistance of her
equally aged husband, this bachelor paradise, appeared at the door;
and hearing Verty's request of audience, was going to prefer it to Mr.
Roundjacket.
This was rendered unnecessary, however, by the gentleman himself. He
called from the comfortable sitting-room to Verty, and the visitor
entered.