"I sha'nt fight with fistesses, it's wulgar!--but if he's a mind to
anything like a gemman, here's my card!"
The love-lorn Matthew had departed, no doubt unable to bear the sight of
that staircase whose boards no longer resounded with the slip-slap of the
slippers of that hypocritical beauty, "his Mary." With him, the romance
of the landing-place, and the squad, had evaporated; and I had no
sympathies, no pursuits, in common with the remaining "boys"--my
newly-acquired post, too, nearly occupied the whole of my time, while my
desire of study increased with the acquisition of books, in which all my
pocket-money was expended.
One day, my good friend, Mr. Wallis, entered the office, followed by a
short, sharp-visaged man, with a sallow complexion; he was dressed in a
shabby frock, buttoned up to the throat--a rusty black silk neckerchief
supplying the place of shirt and collar.
He stood just within the threshold of the door, holding his napless hat
in his hand.
"Well, Wally, my buck," cried my master, extending his hand.
Mr. Wallis advanced close to his elbow, and spoke in a whisper; but I
observed, by the direction of his eyes, that the subject of his
communication was the stranger.
"Ha!" said Mr. Timmis, "it's all very well, Walley--but I hate all
forriners;--why don't he go back to Frogland, and not come here, palming
himself upon us. It's no go--not a scuddick. They're all a parcel o'
humbugs--and no mistake!"
As he uttered this gracious opinion sufficiently loud to strike upon the
tympanum of the poor fellow at the door, I could perceive his dark eyes
glisten, and the blood tinge his woe-begone cheeks; his lips trembled
with emotion: there was an evident struggle between offended gentility,
and urgent necessity.
Pride, however, gained the mastery; and advancing the right foot, he
raised his hat, and with peculiar grace bowing to the two
friends--"Pardon, Monsieur Vallis," said he, in tremulous accents, "I am
'de trop;' permit, me to visdraw"--and instantly left the office.
Mr. Timmis, startled by his sudden exit, looked at Mr. Wallis for an
explanation.
"By ___!" exclaimed Mr. Wallis seriously-- "you've hurt that poor fellow's
feelings. I would sooner have given a guinea than he should have heard
you. Dubois is a gentleman; and altho' he's completely 'stumped,' and
has'nt a place to put his head in, he's tenacious of that respect which
is due to every man, whether he happens to be at a premium, or a
discount."
"Go it!" cried Mr. Timmis, colouring deeply at this merited reproof--"If
this ain't a reg'lar sermon! I didn't mean to hurt his feelings, d___
me; I'm a reg'lar John Bull, and he should know better than to be popped
at my bluntness. D___ me, I wouldn't hurt a worm--you know I wouldn't,
Wallis."
There was a tone of contrition in this rambling apology that satisfied
Mr. Wallis of its truth; and he immediately entered into an explanation
on the Frenchman's situation. He had known him, he said, for several
years as a tutor in the family of one of his clients, by whom he was much
respected: a heavy loss had compelled them suddenly to reduce their
establishment; Dubois had entreated to remain with his pupil--refused to
receive any salary--and had even served his old patron in the capacity of
a menial, adhering to him in all his misfortunes, and only parted with
him, reluctantly, at the door of the debtor's prison!
"Did he do that?" said my master; and I saw his eyes moisten at the
relation. "A French mounseer do that! Game--d___ me!"--and lifting the
lid of his desk, he drew out a five pound note! "Here, Wallis, tip him
this flimsey! Tell him--you know what to say--I'm no speechifier--but
you know what I mean." I almost jumped up and hugged my master, I was so
excited.
The next day Monsieur Dubois again made his appearance; and Mr. Wallis
had the pleasure of beholding Mr. Timmis and his gallic friend on the
best terms imaginable.
As for me, I had good cause to rejoice; for it was agreed that I should
take lessons in the "foreign lingo," by way of giving him "a lift," as
Mr. Timmis expressed it. I remember him with feelings of gratitude; for
I owe much more than the knowledge of the language to his kindness and
instruction.
As for Mr. Timmis, he could never sufficiently appreciate his worth,
although he uniformly treated him with kindness.
"Talk of refinement," said he, one day, when discussing Dubois' merits
with Mr. Wallis; "I saw a bit to-day as bangs everything. A cadger
sweeping a crossing fell out with a dustman. Wasn't there some spicy jaw
betwixt 'em. Well, nothing would suit, but the dustman must have a go,
and pitch into the cadger.
"D___ me, what does the cove do, but he outs with a bit of dirty
pasteboard, and he says, says he, "I sha'nt fight with fistesses, it's
wulgar!--but if he's a mind to anything like a gemman, here's my card!"
Wasn't there a roar! I lugg'd out a bob, and flung it at the vagabond
for his wit."