DISADVANTAGES OF A CHAISE AND A PAIR OF HORSES
In this rapt condition of mind, and in this remarkable fashion did we
proceed along the road. Through villages and hamlets, past churches
and inns, up hill and down we took our gallant way. The sense of rapid
motion made without the least inconvenience to our own jaded limbs,
coming after hours of arduous travelling by their painful exercise, was
incomparable, unless it be likened to what the soul must feel when
wafted to Elysium on a cloud, after suffering the slow agonies of
death. The exhilaration of our progress was wonderful indeed.
Steaming along the highways in an elegant equipage, the late oppression
fell off our spirits and gaiety came out in us once again. We did not
know whither we were going, to be sure; it was sufficient that we were
fortified with ways and means once more, and that we had so audaciously
contrived to leave our pursuers in the lurch.
"I wonder what are the contents of these boxes," says I, indulging a
delightful speculation as we sped along.
"I suppose we ought not to touch them, whatever they are," says Cynthia
nervously.
"In that case," says I, "we must not open them."
"Oh, I think we might safely do that," says Cynthia in a voice of the
deepest disappointment. "Although they are not ours, that is no
reason, as far as I can see, why we should not have just one peep at
what they are. That will be doing harm to no one, will it?"
"I fear it will be otherwise," says I mischievously. "For if we get so
far as the opening of the boxes I am sure we shall not be content with
a mere inspection of the contents."
"Oh, Jack," says the indignant Cynthia, "how can you talk so. I am
sure you cannot mean to infer that we should be guilty of anything--of
anything we ought not to be guilty of."
"Of appropriating articles that belong to others, for example."
"Yes," says she, "that is what I meant."
"Well," says I, "is there not the melancholy case of our refusing the
highwayman's booty in one form and accepting it in another?"
"That I am sure we did not," says Mistress Virtue. "We did not ask him
to pay our bill."
"To be sure we did not," says I, "but he paid it, none the less. Now,
had we acted in that matter according to your fine ideas, we should, in
the first place, have delivered that highwayman up to the King's
justice; then the rape of the squire's guineas would never have been
committed, and the landlord's bill would not have been paid at all.
That is why one is ever so perplexed by these high principles of
conduct. Why draw the line in one place and not in another? Do we not
make these arbitrary distinctions and often deny ourselves all manner
of things thereby, when we can least afford to do without them, and yet
there is not a day that passes but what we commit offences against our
codes of honour with a cheerful heart. So much depends upon the title
by which an act is dignified. Persons in our degree of life refer to
certain sources of their emolument as privilege and monopoly, whereas
if they were enjoyed by those in a humbler sphere, who would hesitate
to denounce them as robbery and fraud? Now these boxes being in our
possession, and as we are quite destitute of means, is not there a
hundred ways by which we can prevail upon our consciences to permit us
to enjoy their contents?"
Cynthia stoutly denied this specious reasoning at the time. But after
awhile, when the horses began to flag, and hunger, our ancient dogged
enemy, began once more to assert himself, she was inclined to look at
the matter in a rather more lenient light.
"We must incontinently perish of starvation by the way," says I,
"unless these chests of Mr. Waring and his Grace, your papa, can help
us. Now which course shall we adopt? And we to take the articles
therein as a loan, fully intending to recompense their owners at a more
fortunate season? or shall we simply take them without any reservation
whatever, as lawful prizes won from the enemy in open fight?"
"I think I like the idea of the 'borrowing' best," says the scrupulous
Cynthia.
"Very well, then, we will effect a loan," says I.
We could hardly venture to pull up at the door of any reputable inn in
our present state. We were the beggars no longer, but a lady and
gentleman of quality. Persons who drive about the country a pair of
fine horses and a chariot of the first fashion are compelled to support
their responsibilities. That is ever the eternal drawback. I, clad in
the meanest of garments, divested of my coat and hat, would have been
entirely at ease in my former mean character, and should have passed
unnoticed in it. But once I drove to the inn door in the Duke's
chaise, attired in that fashion, I should be the talk of the place.
Therefore I brought the horses to a halt, in a secluded part of the
road, and proceeded to investigate the nature of the articles in the
chests, in order to see if they could afford an embellishment to our
present unfortunate garb. We hoped to discover some money, too, for we
had not so much as a penny between us.
However, no sooner did we try to open these valises, than we received a
serious set back. They were both securely locked. Search as we might
among the cushions of the chaise, we could find, as we anticipated,
never a trace of the keys. We were greatly dashed, but still it was an
opportunity for the display of our resources. I got out of the
vehicle, and after much poking about in a ditch at the side of the
road, discovered a heavy stone. Armed with this, I attempted to knock
off the fastenings from Mr. Waring's box. It was a tedious, weary
business, for they were stout indeed, but at last patience, if not
virtue, met with its reward. The lid flew open and disclosed the
precious contents.
Conscious of our ragged, penniless condition, we enjoyed every thrill
that such treasure trove could afford us. To prolong our pleasure we
refrained from all reckless rummaging, but drew forth and duly examined
each article in the order in which it was packed. First came a suit of
clothes, and then silk stockings, shoes, another suit of clothes,
handkerchiefs, a razor, brushes, a cocked hat, and all the details that
go to make up the masculine attire.
But although we delved to the bottom of the box and searched every inch
of it, we could not discover so much as a copper piece in money. This
was a severe disappointment, and we addressed ourselves fearfully to
the opening of the Duke's box, for should that prove barren of it too,
our pass would be indeed a sore one.
It was no easier matter to force this box than it had been the other,
but at last our task was accomplished and the thing stood open before
us. The articles within it bore a striking resemblance to those in the
other, only that they were not so elegant and costly. They began with
a shirt and a white cotton night-cap, and below we came upon a wig and
a dressing-gown, but although our hearts might beat never so wildly it
was in vain that we looked for money. Indeed, the only things that we
might regard as a substitute for it were a few trifling articles of
jewellery, such as a solitaire and a gold pin or two for the Duke's
neckcloth, a pearl button, and a pair of shoes with silver buckles.
"Oh," says I, bitterly, "never again will I be at the trouble of
picking his Grace's baggage if this be the manner of his travelling.
One would have thought that a duke of all people would have gone
equipped handsomely. I expected to find guineas galore; or, allowing
his Grace to be a thrifty soul, and that he preferred to carry them in
his boots or next his heart, I had certainly looked for a profusion of
gold diamond ornaments. Why, curse it all, never one of his toilet
requisites hath so much as a pearl or silver handle. Why, even his
night-cap, which should be studded with precious stones, like the fez
of the Shah of Persia, is but a common affair of white cotton. A Duke
is not alive to the responsibilities of his position who goes about
with these mean accompaniments."
"Poor papa," says Cynthia, sadly, "I confess that I ought to have known
that we must go wanting should we rely on him. It was ever his chief
foible to make a halfpenny go as far as two farthings possibly could.
Even the solitaire surprises me. I am sure he must be proposing to
break his journey at the house of the rich widow at Bath, to whom he
hath been paying his addresses this twelvemonth, else he would never
have encumbered himself with such an extravagant finery."
We were, indeed, bitterly disappointed. Here we were, two persons of
quality, with our own horses and chariot, with two boxes of luggage and
a case of pistols, and not a grey groat piece to the two of us. This
fact seemed to acquire a new irony from our otherwise liberal
circumstances. Whatever could we do? Cynthia suggested that we should
sell one of the horses, as two were not essential. However, I was firm
in the opinion that so long as we retained the chaise we must have two
horses to draw it, for the Duke was certain to lose not an instant in
pursuing us in the hottest manner. I then proposed that we should part
with the vehicle itself and both the horses, and resume our wandering
nomad life once more.
Cynthia shuddered at this. She had plainly no zest now for our former
mode, nor could it be wondered at, poor child, when her trials and
exertions came to be considered. Had there only been me in the case I
should not have hesitated to try to find a purchaser for our equipage,
difficult as the matter might have proved. For I was convinced that we
were really in a more unsafe situation now than ever before. It would
be impossible to avoid publicity; and at every inn we came to we should
be the objects of conjecture, and everything pertaining to us would be
discussed and commented on. Besides, we could no longer sleep where we
listed. The horses would require rest and succour whatever the
deprivations of their masters.
After addressing and re-addressing ourselves to the great problem of
how to obtain the service of innkeepers without paying for the same, we
came to the conclusion that we could best hope to do so by adopting a
former expedient, which was attended with not unhappy results. In lieu
of hard cash we must present them with a grievous tale of being stopped
by a highwayman, who had taken our last penny. To do this with the
best effect, however, we must neglect no opportunity of maintaining in
our own persons the status of our chaise and horses. My own attire did
well enough for an ostler, but as our friend Mr. Sadler had pointed
out, it was likely to detract from the story we had to tell.
Therefore, I decided to exchange my raiment for the more appropriate
clothes of Mr. Waring. I did not apprehend any difficulty in regard to
the fit, as we were greatly alike in stature.
With this end in view I selected the necessary articles of apparel from
the box, and left Cynthia to take care of our vehicle, whilst I retired
into the shelter of a neighbouring hedge and made a complete
transformation of my outward semblance. Mrs. Cynthia was hugely
delighted at the result. She had never quite been able to acquiesce in
my late style, and her feelings on the subject were pretty clearly
indicated by her immense satisfaction now.
"Shoes, and silk stockings too," says she with a childlike pleasure.
"And what a dear laced coat, and what nice white ruffles! I am certain
you make a far more perfect gentleman than you do an ostler, though to
be sure you are greatly lacking a shave."
"It is ever so," says I. "The moment one goes up in the world one's
responsibilities multiply. When I was an ostler my unrazored chin
passed without comment; but the moment I improve my condition I must
shave every morning, or else be more miserable than ever I was in my
former station."
Mrs. Cynthia was too preoccupied with my appearance to chide me for
long-winded truisms of this sort. I must not omit to state that during
my absence she had supplied the deficiencies in her own attire by
taking a smart three-cornered hat of Mr. Waring's which, though greatly
too large for her, she had contrived artfully to adjust on the back of
her head, and thereby gained a sweetly rakish appearance from it; and
further supplied her lack of a cloak in a no less skilful fashion by
draping one of the rugs about her in a way that simulated such an
article.
We came to an inn with our pitiful tale. We had it all most
wonderfully pat, having rehearsed it carefully, until we were able to
pour it forth with an infinity of detail. If the distressed condition
of the horses, and our own evident sincerity were not enough, there
were the boxes all tumbled and ransacked to add weight to the evidence.
Our imposition being so well received, and the attitude of the landlord
seeming so friendly, we determined to run the risk of being overtaken,
and break our journey here for an hour while we made a meal, and the
horses were fed and rested. Whether it was that the landlord was a man
of a most tender heart, or that our address was so truly excellent, I
cannot say, but certainly the honest fellow did not hesitate to take us
at our own valuation. If there was any small particular in which he
could serve the earl and countess he should be more than happy. The
small particular in which he was able to do so was by remitting the
amount of our charges against a future occasion, and by lending us a
guinea or two on no better security than the possession of our pleasant
manners and a chaise and a pair of horses.
We went our way in much better heart. We were fortified indeed by such
a generous confidence. And so susceptible is the mind to the opinion
of others, that on the strength of the landlord's disposition, we began
to hold up our heads again in the world, and to take a rose-coloured
view of our affairs. All was not lost yet by a good deal. With our
admirable equipage we had resources of a sort; and we were still in the
complete possession of our freedom. It remained for us to utilize it
to the full.
It was while we were engaged with this train of speculation that a
concrete and definite idea came into my head. Why not make for the
port of Bristol and flee the country? Why not indeed?
"A brave plan, truly," Cynthia says, "but we cannot do it without
money."
"We will sell our horses and chariot to some honest vintner of Bristol
city," says I, "and the proceeds should easily suffice to take us to
the Americas."
Although Mrs. Cynthia shook her head and deprecated it as a wild-goose
scheme, she was compelled to admit that it was the best that offered.
Her protests were not unmingled with regret, for she could not be got
to consider it so light a thing to renounce her country. For my part I
must confess that I was troubled with no such scruples. Like all
persons who serve it scurvily, and who are least of an ornament to it,
I held myself to be as ill-used by it as ever it had been by me. I
felt that I could renounce it for ever without a pang.
After some little meditation I became immeasurably taken with this
scheme. There was no reason why with one bold stroke we should not
renounce our liabilities and put away our dangers. Every hour we spent
in England now was at our peril. But let us reach the port of Bristol
and turn our chaise and horses into ready money sufficient to defray
the expenses of the voyage, and once again should we be able to breathe
the air of freedom. Seeing me more than ever possessed with the
notion, Mrs. Cynthia, like a dutiful wife, began presently to yield to
it. She owned at least that a life over seas could not be much more
precarious than the one we were at present enjoying, and it might
conceivably be less so.
"But I could wish," says she, "that we had more to found our fortunes
on. How can we support ourselves when we get to--to
what-d'ye-call-'em?"
"You will spin, my dear," says I, "and I shall delve, in some lone wood
cabin on the prairie."
"But we shall perish of the dulness in a twelve-month."
"Oh no, my dear," says I, "there will be wild beasts and Red Indians to
provide us with more than enough of relaxation."
By slow degrees I brought her so entirely to my way of thinking, that
she became as keen to make the port of Bristol as ever I could be.
Indeed, so much were we put in mind of this that we began to make
inquiries of our whereabouts, that we might set our faces thither at
the earliest moment. We lay that night at an honest, comfortable inn,
and learned to our surprise that our wanderings had brought us to
within a day's journey of Exeter. We had certainly not supposed that
we had come so far from town, nor that we had penetrated so far into
the country of the enemy. For, as Cynthia excitedly exclaimed, in the
near neighbourhood of Exeter was her father's seat. This unexpected
circumstance wrought upon her in a singular way.
"I would dearly love to look on the old place for the last time," she
said.
Although her father's house had in itself so slight a hold on her
affection that she had renounced its advantages for ever, despite all
the desperate consequences of such an act, its proximity had still the
power to kindle a sentiment in her heart. Besides, as a little later
she pointed out, there was a certain expedience in going thither.
There were some small pieces of her personal property that she had left
behind in the sudden recklessness of her flight, which could be easily
retrieved and would add materially to our resources. This to my mind
was something like an argument. I had no longer that fine disregard
for ways and means with which I had set out on our pilgrimage. Money
was a base consideration enough, but it seemed a mighty difficult
matter to do without it. Cynthia's few jewels and trinkets were likely
to serve us too well, even in the Americas, for us to afford to
disregard them.
Here then was an end to all my objects. We would diverge a little out
of the straight road to Bristol, and pay a visit to Cynthia's home in
the absence of her papa. We counted for our safety on the fact that we
must be some hours ahead of that irate old gentleman. All the same, we
were taking a considerable risk. Much depended on how soon our papa
had been able to replace the chaise and horses we had stolen from him.
But I do not think we hesitated an instant on this account, having once
committed ourselves to this daring course. Besides, there was a
certain savour of humour in paying a call on his Grace in these
circumstances, which did a great deal to reconcile us to the
inconvenience.