_Curiously illustrates the old saying, that a man may “go farther to
fare worse.”_
No sooner had Mr. Palethorpe arrived, than following Dr. Rowel's
directions, he marched off in a very business-like manner to the
Yorkshire House, and inquired for Colin Clink. No such person was there;
although one of the female servants told him she believed a young man
of that name had made a short stay at the house some weeks ago, and had
called once or twice since; but he had left long ago, and gone they knew
not whither.
This information brought the pursuer to a dead stop. His scent was lost
all at once; and as he had not made provision out of the wits of other
people for any disappointment of this kind, while his own were very
backward in coming to his assistance, he suddenly felt that all was
over. Moreover he found London to be a very different place to what he
had expected; and for a stranger to set about finding a lost man there,
seemed worse even than hunting for a needle in a bottle of straw.
Instead, therefore, of troubling himself just then any farther about the
matter, he thought he would first sleep upon it, and in the mean time
go about and see the sights. First he wended his way to the top of the
Monument, having previously very carefully perused the inscription as
its base. After that he ascended into the lantern of St. Paul's. He then
travelled down to the Tower, and very narrowly escaped walking into the
ditch just where there chanced to be a rail broken, while his eyes were
turned up in curious scrutiny of the White Tower. He much longed to
go in, but dared not, for fear of the soldiers, as he was not hitherto
aware that it was guarded so stoutly by a military force. When he got
back into St. Martins le Grand, and looked up at the Post Office clock,
he was about to pull out his watch and compare dials, but, to his
dismay, found that somebody had saved him the trouble by pulling it out
before him. In his confusion he instinctively endeavoured to wipe his
nose, but discovered that one of his best handkerchiefs was gone too. In
this double dilemma he stared about him some minutes very oddly, and not
a little to the amusement of certain cabmen, who stood hard by observing
his motions with visages wide awake. He began to be afraid of remaining
any longer in the street, and accordingly hurried back to the Yorkshire
House, where he endeavoured to console himself under his losses by
taking an extra quantity of Burton ale and gin-and-water.
These little bits of experience made him afterwards so very cautious,
that whenever he walked out he was continually engaged in cramming his
hands, first one and then the other, into his coat-pockets, then into
his breeches, in order to be assured that his money was safe; for he
held it as a maxim, that no man who knew what he was about would leave
his cash in a box which anybody might unlock, at a public house where
strangers were running in and out, and up and down stairs, all day long.
He accordingly, for the greater safety, carried his whole stock about
with him.
In this manner he wiled away nearly a week, waiting chances of meeting
with Colin accidentally, and hoping that he might luckily call again at
the Yorkshire House; in which case he had made provision for securing
him, by leaving word that, if he _did_ come, he was to be told that a
very well-known acquaintance from the country had arrived, who wished
to see him upon most particular business. But time passed on, his trap
caught nothing, and, after eight or nine days' stay, he found himself no
forwarder, save in the amount of wonderful things he had seen, and the
quantity of money he had expended, than he was when he parted with Miss
Sowersoft. Disastrous as all this was, it is not to be wondered at that
his courage evaporated very rapidly, and, in fact, became so very nearly
dried wholly up, that he made up his mind, after many efforts, to sneak
back again into the country, invent the best tale he possibly could, in
order to satisfy his “meesis” and the doctor, and sit down once again
to his beer and bacon on the quiet farm, renouncing London, and every
attempt to catch Colin Clink, at once and for ever.
Fortune, however, which, as we are told, ever watches over the brave,
would not suffer him to go thus far, and undergo the fatigues and
dangers of such a journey, merely to come to such an inglorious
conclusion. And as Palethorpe manfully determined to have a good last
night of it before he left town, and see for himself what life in London
really was, the frail goddess took that favourable opportunity of adding
a striking incident to the tailpiece of his chapter of accidents,--an
incident which, as it brought him very unexpectedly into the presence
of Colin, and otherwise is worthy of particular note, I shall give in a
chapter by itself.