THE COLONEL AND THE CAPTAIN.
The captain related to Frank all the numerous and varied incidents
which had occurred during the forenoon of that eventful day; and the
listener not unfrequently burst into shouts of laughter, as the gallant
gentleman described the most ludicrous part of his adventures--we mean
the little episode of the escape from the sheriff’s-officers in Mrs.
Rudd’s garments.
Frank, in his turn, gave his gallant friend a hurried but significant
intimation that Mr. Bubbleton Styles had “come down” with ten
sovereigns--a figure of speech implying that the City gentleman had
advanced that amount for the special behoof of Captain O’Blunderbuss
and Mr. Curtis.
The first use the Irishman made of this subsidy, was then and
there--fairly and cheerfully--to refund to Mr. Scales the monies
advanced by the worthy Brother in the morning; and this little
arrangement increased the good feelings of that gentleman towards his
new friends, and enhanced the harmony of the evening.
By degrees, as the good liquor produced its exhilarating effect, the
captain began to talk magniloquently of his Irish estates, “which were
unfor-rtunately locked up in Chancery,”--Mr. Curtis told a great many
wonderful stories of his intimacy with Princesses and Duchesses, “when
he was in France,”--and Mr. Scales related a number of interesting
anecdotes connected with the Charter House, and which had a signal
advantage over the narratives of his companions, inasmuch as the former
were all true, and the latter all false.
In the midst of the conviviality a knock at the door was heard; and
on Mr. Scales exclaiming “Come in,” the invitation was obeyed by a
gentleman who was immediately introduced to the captain and Frank
Curtis as Colonel Tickner.
The new-comer, who was an inmate of the Charter House, was a man of
middle height, and was much older than he thought fit to appear to be;
for by the aid of false teeth, a handsome wig, and whiskers well dyed,
he was enabled to pass himself off as “just over fifty”--whereas his
years had certainly numbered a good fifteen in addition to the amount
specified. He was well dressed, and had rather an imposing exterior:
but there was an unpleasant expression about the eyes, and in the lines
around the mouth, which gave his countenance a sinister aspect, and
denoted low canning, duplicity, and artfulness.
“Sit down, colonel,” said Mr. Scales, when the ceremony of introduction
had taken place; “and mix a glass for yourself. I told the captain you
were sure to come--and he was most anxious to see you; for I know that
military men are particularly fond of meeting each other.”
This remark was made with a sly touch of satire, Mr. Scales glancing
the while at the captain, as much as to say, “Now the ice is broken,
and you can unmask him;”--for as sincerely as the worthy Brother did
_not_ believe Tickner to be a military man at all, so in proportion was
he convinced that O’Blunderbuss _was_.
The colonel looked uneasy for a moment, while the captain, whose
natural impudence was increased by his potations, put a bold face upon
the matter, and eyed Tickner with lurking ferocity.
“And pray, sir, in what rig’ment had you the honour-r-r to ser-r-rve?”
demanded the Irishman at length, with a menacing reverberation of the
ominous r’s.
“Oh! in several,” returned the colonel, mixing his toddy without
raising his eyes. “Might I ask the same question of you, captain?”
“Be Jasus! and ye may ask, sure enough, my frind,” exclaimed
O’Blunderbuss: “but it would be more polite on your par-r-t if you was
afther answering my quaries first;--and thin it’s meself that’ll give
ye my whole pidigree from the beginning to the ind of that same.”
“I should beg to observe, sir,” said the colonel, stirring up his
liquor, on which he still kept his eyes fixed, “that it would be more
in accordance with the rules of military etiquette if you were to give
the first explanations--seeing that I have the honour to hold a higher
rank than yourself in her Majesty’s service.”
[Illustration]
“And, be the holy poker-r!” ejaculated Captain O’Blunderbuss, flying
into a passion: “that remains to be proved! There’s many a discharged
cor-r-poral that dubs himself colonel, to my knowledge.”
“And there’s many a discharged cad to an omnibus that calls himself----”
But Colonel Tickner suddenly stopped short: for Captain O’Blunderbuss
started from his seat, and, grasping the poker, exclaimed, “Be this
holy insthrument, I shall be afther daling ye a gintle tap on the head,
my frind, if ye dar-r to utther a wor-r-rd derogatory to my honour-r-r!”
Colonel Tickner stared in ghastly silence at the ferocious Irishman;
and to add to the dismay of the former, Frank Curtis, who relished the
proceeding hugely, whispered hastily in his ear, “For God’s sake, don’t
provoke him! He’s the most terrible duellist in all London; he shot the
Duke of Boulogne last year in Paris!”
“I really----did not----in fact, it was very far from my
intentions----” stammered the discomfited colonel, casting a glance
toward the door, to ascertain if there were any possibility of escape:
but, alas! _that_ was out of the question.
“Nothing but a mating, or the most abjict apology will suffice!”
vociferated Captain O’Blunderbuss, perceiving that he had completely
over-awed his antagonist. “Frank, my frind, run over to our lodgings
and fetch my pisthols--in the box covered with green baize, you
know--and, be the power-rs! we’ll fight it out across the table, each
houlding the ind of a handkerchief:--that is to say, with Mr. Scales’
lave and, per-r-mission.”
“Oh! I shan’t interfere,” said the red-faced Brother enjoying the scene
as much as Mr. Frank Curtis, who rose from his chair as if to depart
for the purpose of executing the little commission respecting the
pistols.
“Really, gentlemen,” stammered Colonel Tickner, glancing in
bewilderment and dismay from one to the other: “I--I am sure--I did
not----”
“Did ye mane to insult me?” demanded the captain, brandishing the
poker, while his aspect seemed to acquire increased ferocity every
moment.
“No--no--certainly not,” responded the colonel, catching at the hope
of extricating himself from the deadly perils which appeared to hem him
in around.
“And ye acknowledge yourself to be a liar and a scounthrel?”
vociferated the terrible Gorman O’Blunderbuss.
“Why, my dear sir--as for that----”
“Don’t ‘_dear sir-r_’ me!” interrupted the Irishman, fiercely,
“Acknowledge yourself to be a liar and a scounthrel--and on my part
I shall be ready to acknowledge in retur-r-n that ye’ve made such an
apology as a gintleman ought under the circumstances.”
“Oh! yes--mutual concessions,” observed Frank with a wink at Mr.
Scales, who could scarcely keep, his countenance through a violent
inclination to laugh.
“A liar and a scounthrel!” repeated the captain, as he advanced in
a threatening manner towards the wretched victim of this egregious
bullyism.
“Well, my dear sir--if it will satisfy you--and, as your friend
observes, on the principle of mutual concessions--I--I----”
“Out with it, man!” roared the captain: “don’t keep us waiting all
day--for the hot wather is getting could----”
“You’d better not provoke him any more,” whispered Frank: “or I shall
be compelled to run and fetch the pistols--unless you prefer having
your brains dashed out with the poker.”
“Oh! murder! ejaculated the miserable Tickner, turning deadly pale at
the awful alternative suggested: “give me time to breathe, Captain
O’Blunderbuss----”
“Not a moment!” cried the ferocious gentleman thus appealed to: “I must
have complate satisfaction before ye brathe another puff!”
“Well, then--I admit that I--I am--what you said,” returned the colonel.
“Repate the words! A liar and a scounthrel!”
“A liar and--and--a scoundrel,” echoed the humbled and trembling
wretch, wishing that the floor would open and swallow him up--or that
any other equally improbable casualty might occur, so long as it should
remove him from the presence of the ferocious Irishman.
“Ye hear his wor-rds, my frinds?” cried the captain: “he declar-rs
himself to be a liar and a scounthrel. And now, as a man of honour-r, I
confiss myself completely satisfied. The apology is most handsome--and
such as reflicts the highest credit on him as a gintleman. Give me your
hand, sir-r!”
The colonel diffidently extended the member thus demanded; and the
gallant Irishman shook it with such hearty good will, that its owner
winced and writhed with the pain of the iron pressure.
“And now we’ll spake no more on milithary matthers,” said Gorman
O’Blunderbuss; “but dhrink potheen at our aise, and converse on all
kinds of things.”
By this little arrangement the captain got rid of the necessity of
giving any explanation relative to his own military career; and Colonel
Tickner, speedily forgetting the deep humiliation to which the bullying
character of the Irishman and his own craven spirit had subjected him,
paid his respects with so much earnestness to the whiskey, that Frank
was soon compelled to sally forth and procure another bottle--Mrs.
Pitkin having returned to her own domicile under the plea of being
“very ill,” which in plain English meant “very drunk.”
The conviviality was maintained until half-past ten, when Captain
O’Blunderbuss and Frank Curtis rose to take their leave of Mr. Scales
and the colonel. But before they departed, the Irishman renewed
his expressions of gratitude and his protestations of friendship
to the worthy Brother who had manifested so much kindness towards
him;--and, highly delighted with their evening’s entertainment, the two
“inseparables” walked off arm-in-arm together.
Now how gloomy--how truly monastic appeared the Charter House, as
they traversed the spacious court, bounded by the low, uniform ranges
of buildings. Most of the windows were dark; but here and there a
flickering light was gleaming--feeble and faint as the spirit of the
old man for whose long lonely hours even that poor candle was a species
of companion.
In spite of the natural liveliness of the two friends’ dispositions--in
spite of the whiskey they had imbibed--they shuddered as the aspect of
the place, in the more than semi-obscurity of the starlight, seemed
cold and cheerless to the view,--aye, and struck so to their very
hearts.
Their footsteps raised echoes which sounded hollow and gloomy, as if
coming from the midst of tombs; and if they paused for a moment, the
silence was so deep--so profound, it seemed impossible that the place
was in the very midst of the mightiest metropolis in the world.
The feelings of the two friends were such, that they could not have
uttered a ribald word nor given vent to a jest or a laugh, as they
traversed an enclosure where the stillness was so awful and the
cloistral aspect of the scene so coldly, sternly monastic.
Had their way lay through a vast cathedral, at the silent midnight
hour, they could not have experienced a sense of more painful
oppression; nor would a deeper gloom have fallen upon their spirits.
It was a great relief when the porter closed the wicket of the
massive gates behind them;--and as they hastily skirted Charterhouse
Square--keeping a good look-out for fear of unpleasant prowlers in that
region--the captain whispered to his companion, “Well, Frank--and, be
Jasus! I’d sooner be knocked about the wor-r-ld as you and I are at
times, me boy, than take up my quar-r-ters altogether in that place.
It’s all very pritty, no doubt, while one has his frinds with him; but
whin they’re gone, Frank, it strikes me that the loneliness becomes tin
thousand times more lonely.”
“I’m just of the same opinion, captain,” returned Mr. Curtis. “And now
where shall we put up for the night?”
“Be the power-rs! and we’ve cash in our pockets--aad it’s afther
pathronising some tavern we’ll be until the morning, whin we’ll take
fresh lodgings,” exclaimed the gallant gentleman, his naturally good
spirits reviving, as he found himself safe in Aldersgate Street, and no
suspicious-looking characters dodging him in the rear.