HOW MR. RUSHTON PROVED THAT ALL MEN WERE SELFISH, HIMSELF INCLUDED.
Leaving Mr. Roundjacket contemplating the ceiling, and reflecting upon
the various questions connected with bachelorship and matrimony, Verty
returned to the office, and reported to Mr. Rushton that the poet was
rapidly improving, and would probably be at his post on the morrow.
This intelligence was received with a growl, which had become,
however, so familiar an expression of feeling to the young man, that
he did not regard it.
"Well, sir," said Mr. Rushton, "what news is there about town?"
"News, sir? I heard none."
"Did'nt you pass along the streets?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you met nobody?"
"Oh, yes; I met Ralph, and Mr. Jinks, and others."
"Jinks! I'll score that Jinks yet!" said Mr. Rushton; "he is an
impertinent jackanapes, and deserves to be put in the stocks."
"I don't like him much," said Verty, smiling, "I think he is very
foolish."
"Hum! I have no doubt of it: he had the audacity to come here once and
ask an _opinion_ of me without offering the least fee."
"An opinion, sir?"
"Yes, sir; have you been thus long in the profession, or in contact
with the profession," added Mr. Rushton, correcting himself, "without
learning what an _opinion_ is?"
"Oh, sir--I think I understand now--it is--"
"A very gratifying circumstance that you do," said Mr. Rushton, with
the air of a good-natured grizzly bear. "Well, sir, that fellow, I
say, had the audacity to consult me upon a legal point--whether the
tailor O'Brallaghan, being bound over to keep the peace, could attack
him without forfeiting his recognizances--that villain Jinks, I say,
had the outrageous audacity to ask my opinion on this point, and then
when I gave it, to rise and say that it was a fine morning, and so
strut out, without another word. A villain, sir! the man who consults
a lawyer without the preparatory retainer, is a wretch too deep-dyed
to reform!"
Having thus disposed of Jinks, Mr. Rushton snorted.
"I don't like him," Verty said, "he does not seem to be sincere, and I
think he is not a gentleman. But, I forget, sir; you asked me if there
was any news. I _did_ hear some people talking at the corners of the
street as I passed.
"About what?"
"The turn out of the Dutch and Irish people the day after tomorrow,
sir."
"Hum!" growled Mr. Rushton, "we'll see about that! The authorities of
Winchester are performing their duty after a pretty fashion, truly--to
permit these villainous plots to be hatched tinder their very noses.
What did you hear, sir?"
"They were whispering almost, sir, and if I had'nt been a hunter I
could'nt have heard. They were saying that there would be knives as
well as shillalies," said Verty.
"Hum! indeed! This must be looked to! Will we! The wretches. We are in
a fine way when the public peace is to be sacrificed to the whim of
some outlandish wretches."
"Anan?" said Verty.
"Sir?" asked Mr. Rushton.
"I do not know exactly what _outlandish_ means," Verty replied, with a
smile.
A grim smile came to the lips of the lawyer also.
"It means a variety of things," he said, looking at Verty; "some
people would say that _you_, sir, were outlandish."
"Me!" said Verty.
"Yes, you; where are those costumes which I presented to you?"
"My clothes, sir--from the tailor's?"
"Yes, sir."
Verty shook his head.
"I did'nt feel easy in them, sir," he said; "you know I am an
Indian--or if I am not, at least I am a hunter. They cramped me."
Mr. Rushton looked at the young man for some moments in silence.
"You are a myth," he said, grimly smiling, "a dream--a chimera. You
came from no source, and are going nowhere. But I trifle. If I am
permitted, sir, I shall institute proper inquiries as to your origin,
which has occasioned so much thought. The press of business I have
labored under during the last month has not permitted me. Wretched
life. I'm sick of it--and go to it like a horse to the traces."
"Don't you like law, sir?"
"No--I hate it."
"Why, sir?"
"'Why!'" cried Mr. Rushton, "there you are with your annoying
questions! I hate it because it lowers still more my opinion of this
miserable humanity. I see everywhere rascality, and fraud, and lies;
and because there is danger of becoming the color of the stuff I work
in, 'like the dyer's hand.' I hate it," growled Mr. Rushton.
"But you must see many noble things, sir, too,--a great deal of
goodness, you know."
"Well, sir, so I do. I don't deny it. There are _some_ men who are not
entirely corrupt,--some who do not cheat systematically, and lie by
the compass and the rule. But these are the exceptions. This life and
humanity are foul sin from the beginning. Trust no one, young man--not
even me; I may turn out a rogue. I am no better than the rest of the
wretches!"
"Oh, Mr. Rushton!"
"There you are with your exclamations!"
"Oh, I'm sure, sir--"
"Be sure of nothing; let us end this jabber. How is your mother?" said
Mr. Rushton, abruptly.
"She's very well, sir."
"A good woman."
"Oh, indeed she is, sir--I love her dearly."
"Hum! there's no harm in that, though much selfishness, I do not
doubt--all humanity is narrow and selfish. There are some things I
procured for her."
And Mr. Rushton pointed to a large bundle lying on the chair.
"For _ma mere_!" said Verty.
"Yes; I suppose that, in your outlandish lingo, means _mother_. Yes,
for her; the winter is coming on, and she will need something warm to
wrap her--poor creature--from the cold."
"Oh, how kind you are, Mr. Rushton!"
"Nonsense; I suppose I am at liberty to spend my own money."
Verty looked at the lawyer with a grateful smile, and said:
"I don't think that what you said about everybody's being selfish and
bad is true, sir. You are very good and kind."
"Flummery!" observed the cynic, "I had a selfish motive: I wished to
appear generous--I wished to be praised--I wished to attach you to my
service, in order to employ you, when the time came, in some rascally
scheme."
"Oh, Mr. Rushton!"
"Yes, sir; you know not why I present that winter wardrobe to your
mother," said the lawyer, triumphantly; "you don't even know that it
is my present!"
"How, sir?"
"May I not stop it from your salary, I should like to know, sir?"
And Mr. Rushton scowled at Verty.
"Oh!" said the young man.
"I may do anything--I may have laid a plot to have you arrested for
receiving stolen goods," said the shaggy cynic, revelling in the
creations of his invention; "I may have wrapped up an infernal
machine, sir, in that bundle, which, when you open it, will explode
like a cannon, and carry ruin and destruction to everything around!"
This terrific picture caused Verty to open his eyes, and look with
astonishment at his interlocutor.
"I may have bought them in to spite that young villain at the store. I
heard him," said Mr. Rushton, vindictively--"yes, distinctly heard
him whisper, 'There's old Rushton again, come to growl, and not buy
anything.' The villain! but I disappointed him; and when he said,
"Shall they be sent to your office, sir?" in his odious obsequious
voice, I replied, 'No, sir! I am not a dandy or fine gentleman, nor
a woman;--you, sir, may be accustomed to have your bundles _sent_--I
carry mine myself.' And so, sir, I took the bundle on my shoulder and
brought it away, to the astonishment of that young villain, who, I
predict, will eventually come to the gallows!"
And the lawyer, having grown tired of talking, abruptly went into his
sanctum, and slammed the door.
Verty gazed after him for some moments with a puzzled expression--then
smiled--then shook his head; then glanced at the bundle. It was heavy
enough for two porters, and Verty opened his eyes at the thought of
Mr. Rushton's having appeared in public, in the town of Winchester,
with such a mass upon his back.
"He's very good, though," said Verty; "I don't know why he's so kind
to me. How _ma mere_ will like them--I know they are what she wants."
And Verty betook himself to his work, only stopping to partake of his
dinner of cold venison and biscuits. By the afternoon, he had done a
very good task; and then mounting Cloud, with the bundle before him,
he took his way homeward, _via_ Apple Orchard.