CHAPTER XVII.

MR. JEREMIAH'S NIGHT INTERVIEW WITH THE MAYOR UPON STATE AFFAIRS.

'Saints in heaven! is this the messenger of the last day?' screamed out

a female voice, as the doorbell rang out a furious alarum--peal upon

peal--under that able performer, Mr. Jeremiah Schnackenberger. She

hastened to open the door; but, when she beheld a soldier in the state

uniform, she assured him it was all over with him; for his worship was

gone to bed; and, when _that_ was the case, he never allowed of any

disturbance without making an example.

'Aye, but I come upon state business.'

'No matter,' said the old woman, 'it's all one: when his worship sleeps,

business must sleep: that's the law, I'll assure you, and _has_ been any

time since I can think on. He always commits, at the least.'

'Very likely; but I _must_ speak to him.'

'Well, then, take the consequences on yourself,' said she: 'recollect,

you're a state soldier; you'll be brought to a court-martial; you'll be

shot.'

'Ah! well: that's _my_ concern.'

'Mighty well,' said the old woman: 'one may as well speak to the wind.

However, _I_'ll get out the way: _I_'ll not come near the hurricane. And

don't you say, I didn't warn you.'

So saying, she let him up to her master's bed-room door, and then

trotted off as fast and as far as she could.

At this moment Mr. Mayor, already wakened and discomposed by the violent

tintinnabulation, rushed out: 'What!' said he, 'am I awake? Is it a

guardsman that has this audacity?'

'No guardsman, Mr. Mayor,' said our hero; in whose face his worship was

vainly poring with the lamp to spell out the features of some one

amongst the twelve members of the state-guard; 'no guardsman, but a

gentleman that was apprehended last night at the theatre.'

'Ah!' said the Mayor, trembling in every limb, 'a prisoner, and escaped?

And perhaps has murdered the guard?--What would you have of me--me, a

poor, helpless, unfortunate man?'

And, at every word he spoke, he continued to step back towards a bell

that lay upon the table.

'_Basta_,' said Mr. Schnackenberger, taking the bell out of his hands.

'Mr. Mayor, I'm just the man in the dreadnought. And I've a question to

ask you, Mr. Mayor; and I thought it was rather long to wait until

morning; so I took the liberty of coming for an answer to-night; and I'd

think myself particularly obliged to you for it now:--Upon what

authority do you conceive yourself entitled to commit me, an innocent

man, and without a hearing, to an abominable hole of a dungeon? I have

not murdered the guard, Mr. Mayor: but I troubled him for his regimental

coat, that I might gain admittance to your worship: and I left him the

dreadnought in exchange.'

'The dreadnought?' said the Mayor. 'Aye: now this very dreadnought it

was, Sir, that compelled me (making a low bow) to issue my warrant for

your apprehension.' And it then came out, that in a list of stolen

goods recently lodged with the magistrates, a dreadnought was

particularly noticed: and Mr. Mayor having seen a man enter the theatre

in an article answering to the description, and easily identified by a

black cross embroidered upon the back, was obliged by his duty to have

him arrested; more especially as the wearer had increased the suspicion

against himself by concealing his face.

This explanation naturally reconciled Mr. Schnackenberger to the arrest:

and as to the filthy dungeon, _that_ admitted of a still simpler

apology, as it seemed that the town afforded no better.

'Why then, Mr. Mayor,--as things stand, it seems to me that in the point

of honour I ought to be satisfied: and in that case I still consider

myself your prisoner, and shall take up my quarters for this night in

your respectable mansion.'

'But no!' thought Mr. Mayor: 'better let a rogue escape, than keep a man

within my doors that may commit a murder on my body.' So he assured Mr.

Schnackenberger--that he had accounted in the most satisfactory manner

for being found in possession of the dreadnought; took down the name of

the old clothesman from whom it was hired; and lighting down his now

discharged prisoner, he declared, with a rueful attempt at smiling, that

it gave him the liveliest gratification on so disagreeable an occasion

to have made so very agreeable an acquaintance.

The Uncollected Writings of Thomas de Quincey, Vol. 2 With a Preface and Annotations by James Hogg · 第 17 / 26 章