THE MONEY-LENDER.
Since the count's unmannerly treatment at the printseller's, he had
not sufficiently conquered his pride to attempt an application to
another. Therefore, he had no prospect of collecting the money he had
pledged himself to Mrs. Robson to pay but by selling some more of his
valuables to the pawnbroker.
For this purpose he took his sabre, his pistols, and the fated
brilliants he had brought back on a similar errand. He drew them from
their deposit, with less feeling of sacrilege, in so disposing of
such relics of the sacred past, than he had felt on the former
occasion. They were now going to be devoted to gratitude and
benevolence--an act which he knew his parents, were they alive, would
warmly approve; and here he allowed the end to sanctify the means.
About half-past six in the evening, he prepared himself for the task.
Whether it be congenial with melancholy to seek the gloom, or whether
the count found himself less observed under the shades of night, is
not evident; but since his exile, he preferred the dusk to any other
part of the day.
Before he went out, he asked Mrs. Robson for Mr. Vincent's bill.
Sinking with obligation and shame, she put it into his hand, and he
left the house. When he approached a lighted lamp, he opened the
paper to see the amount, and finding that it was almost two pounds,
he hastened forward to the pawn-broker's.
The man was in the shop alone. Thaddeus thought himself fortunate;
and, after subduing a few qualms, entered the door. The moment he
laid his sword and pistols on the counter, and declared his wish, the
man, even through the disguise of a large coat and slouched hat,
recollected him. This honest money-lender carried sentiments in his
breast above his occupation. He did not commiserate all who presented
themselves before him, because many exhibited too evidently the
excesses which brought them to his shop. But there was something in
the figure and manner of the Count Sobieski which had struck him at
first sight, and by continuing to possess his thoughts, had excited
so great an interest towards him as to produce pleasure with regret,
when he discerned the noble foreigner again obliged to proffer such
things.
Mr. Burket (for so this money-lender was called) respectfully asked
what he demanded for the arms.
"Perhaps more than you would give. But I have something else here,"
laying down the diamonds; "I want eight guineas."
Mr. Burket looked at them, and then at their owner, hesitated and
then spoke.
"I beg your pardon, sir; I hope I shall not offend you, but these
things appear to have a value independent of their price; they are
inlaid with crests and ciphers."
The blood flushed over the cheeks of the count. He had forgotten this
circumstance. Unable to answer, he waited to hear what the man would
say further.
"I repeat, sir, I mean not to offend; but you appear a stranger to
these transactions. I only wish to suggest, in case you should ever
like to repossess these valuables--had you not better pledge them?"
"How?" asked Thaddeus, irresolutely, and not knowing what to think of
the man's manner.
At that instant some other people came into the shop; and Mr. Burket,
gathering up the diamonds and the arms in his hand, said, "If you do
not object, sir, we will settle this business in my back-parlor."
The delicacy of his behavior penetrated the mind of Thaddeus, and
without demurring, he followed him into a room. While Mr. Burket
offered his guest a chair, the count took off his hat and laid it on
the table. Burket contemplated the saddened dignity of his
countenance with renewed interest entreating him to be seated, he
resumed the conversation.
"I see, sir, you do not understand the meaning of pledging, or
pawning, for it is one and the same thing; but I will explain it in
two words. If you leave these things with me, I will give you a paper
in acknowledgment, and lend on them the guineas you request; for
which sum, when you return it to me with a stated interest, you shall
have your deposit in exchange."
Sobieski received this offer with pleasure and thanks. He had
entertained no idea of anything more being meant by the trade of a
pawnbroker than a man who bought what others wished to sell.
"Then, sir," continued Burket, opening an escritoire, "I will give
you the money, and write the paper I spoke of."
Just as he put his hand to the drawer, he heard voices in an
adjoining passage; and instantly shutting the desk, he caught up the
things on the table, threw them behind a curtain, and hastily taking
the count by the hand, said, "My dear sir, do oblige me, and step
into that closet; you will find a chair. A person is coming, whom I
will dispatch in a few seconds."
Thaddeus, rather surprised at such hurry, did as he was desired; and
the door was closed on him just as the parlor door opened. Being
aware from such concealment that the visitor came on secret business,
he found his situation not a little awkward. Seated behind a
curtained window, which the lights in the room made transparent, he
could not avoid seeing as well as hearing everything that passed.
"My dear Mr. Burket," cried an elegant young creature, who ran into
the apartment, "positively without your assistance, I shall be
undone."
"Anything in my power, madam," returned My. Burket, with a distant,
respectful voice; "will your ladyship sit down?"
"Yes; give me a chair. I am half dead with distraction. Mr. Burket, I
must have another hundred upon those jewels."
"Indeed, my lady, it is not in my power; you have already had twelve
hundred; and, upon my honor, that is a hundred and fifty more than I
ought to have given."
"Pshaw! who minds the honor of a pawnbroker!" cried the lady,
laughing; "you know very well you live by cheating."
"Well, ma'am," returned he, with a good-natured smile, "as your
ladyship pleases."
"Then I please that you let me have another hundred. Why, man, you
know you let Mrs. Hinchinbroke two thousand upon a case of diamonds
not a quarter so many as mine."
"But consider, madam; Mrs. Hinchinbroke's were of the best water."
"Positively, Mr. Burnet," exclaimed her ladyship, purposely
miscalling his name, "not better than mine! The King of Sardinia gave
them to Sir Charles when he knighted him. I know mine are the best,
and I must have another hundred. Upon my life, my servants have not
had a guinea of board wages these four months, and they tell me they
are starving. Come, make haste, Mr. Burnet you cannot expect me to
stay here all night; give me the money."
"Indeed, my lady, I cannot."
"Heavens! what a brute of a man you are! There," cried she, taking a
string of pearls from her neck, and throwing it on the table; "lend
me some of your trumpery out of your shop, for I am going immediately
from hence to take the Misses Dundas to the opera; so give me the
hundred on that, and let me go."
"This is not worth a hundred."
"What a teasing man you are!" cried her ladyship, angrily. "Well, let
me have the money now, and I will send you the bracelets which belong
to the necklace to-morrow."
"Upon those conditions I will give your ladyship another hundred."
"Oh, do; you are the veriest miser I ever met with. You are worse
than Shylock, or,--Good gracious! what is this?" exclaimed she,
interrupting herself, and taking up the draft he had laid before her;
"and have you the conscience to think, Mr. Pawnbroker, that I will
offer this at your banker's? that I will expose myself so far? No,
no; take it back, and give me gold. Come, dispatch! else I must
disappoint my party. Look, there is my purse," added she, showing it;
"make haste and fill it."
After satisfying her demands, Mr. Burket handed her ladyship out the
way she came in, which was by a private passage; and having seated
her in her carriage, made his bow.
Meanwhile the Count Sobieski, wrapped in astonishment at the
profligacy which the scene he had witnessed implied, remained in
concealment until the pawnbroker returned, and opened the closet-
door.
"Sir," said he, coloring, "you have, undesignedly on your part, been
privy to a very delicate affair; but my credit, sir, and your honor--"
"Shall both be sacred," replied the count, anxious to relieve the
poor man from his perplexity, and forbearing to express surprise. But
Burket perceived it in his look; and before he proceeded to fulfill
the engagement with him, stepped half way to the escritoire, and
resumed.
"You appear amazed, sir, at what you have seen. And if I am not
mistaken, you are from abroad?"
"Indeed, I am amazed," replied Sobieski; "and I am from a country
where the slightest suspicion of a transaction such as this would
brand the woman with infamy."
"And so it ought," answered Burket; "though by that assertion I speak
against my own interest, for it is by such as Lady Hilliars we make
our money. Now, sir," continued he, drawing nearer to the table,
"perhaps, after what you have just beheld, you will not hesitate to
credit what I am going to tell you. I have now in my hands the jewels
of one duchess, of three countesses, and of women of fashion without
number. When these ladies have an ill run at play, they apply to me
in their exigencies; they bring their diamonds here, and as their
occasions require, on that deposit I lend them money, for which they
make me a handsome present when the jewels are released."
"You astonish me!" exclaimed Thaddeus; "what a degrading system of
deceit must govern the lives of these women!"
"It is very lamentable," returned Burket; "but so it is. And they
continue to manage matters very cleverly. By giving me their note or
word of honor, (for if these ladies are not honorable with me, I know
by what hints to keep them in order,) I allow them to have the jewels
out for the birth-days, and receive them again when their exhibition
is over. As a compensation for these little indulgences, I expect
considerable additions to the _douceur_ at the end."
Thaddeus could hardly believe such a history of those women, whom
travellers mentioned as not only the most lovely but the most amiable
creatures in the world.
"Surely, Mr. Burket," cried he, "these ladies must despise each
other, and become contemptible even to our sex."
"O, no," rejoined the pawnbroker; "they seldom trust each other in
these affairs. All my fair customers are not so silly as that pretty
little lady who just now left us. She and another woman of quality
have made each other confidants in this business. And I have no mercy
when both come together! They are as ravenous of my money as if it
had no other use but to supply them. As to their husbands, brothers,
and fathers, they are usually the last people who suspect or hear of
these matters; their applications, when they run out, are made to
Jews and professed usurers, a race completely out of our line."
"But are all English women of quality of this disgraceful stamp?"
"No; Heaven forbid!" cried Burket; "if these female spendthrifts were
not held in awe by the dread of superior characters, we could have no
dependence on their promises. Oh, no; there are ladies about the
court whose virtues are as eminent as their rank; women whose actions
might all be performed in mid-day, before the world; and them I never
see within my doors."
"Well, Mr. Burket," rejoined Thaddeus, smiling; "I am glad to hear
that. Yet I cannot forget the unexpected view of the famous British
fair which this night has offered to my eyes. It is strange!"
"It is very bad, indeed, sir," returned the man, giving him the money
and the paper he had been preparing; "but if you should have occasion
to call again upon me, perhaps you may be astonished still further."
The count bowed; and thanking him for his kindness, wished him a good
evening and left the shop. [Footnote: The whole of this scene at the
pawnbroker's is too true; the writer knows it from an eye and ear-
witness.]
It was about seven o'clock when Thaddeus arrived at the apothecary's.
Mr. Vincent was from home. To say the truth, he had purposely gone
out of the way. For though he did not hesitate to commit a shabby
action, he wanted courage to face its consequence; and to avoid the
probable remonstrances of Mrs. Robson, he commissioned his assistant
to receive the amount of the bill. Without making an observation, the
count paid the man, and was returning homeward along Duke Street and
the piazzas of Drury Lane Theatre, when the crowd around the doors
constrained him to stop.
After two or three ineffectual attempts to get through the bustle, he
retreated a little behind the mob, at the moment when a chariot drew
up, and a gentleman stepping out with two ladies, darted with them
into the house. One glance was sufficient for Sobieski, who
recognized his friend Pembroke Somerset, in full dress, gay and
laughing. The heart of Thaddeus sprang to him at the sight; and
forgetting his neglect, and his own misfortunes, he ejaculated--
"Somerset!"
Trembling with eagerness and emotion, he pressed through the crowd,
and entered the passage at the instant a green door within shut upon
his friend.
His disappointment was dreadful. To be so near Somerset, and to lose
him, was more than he could sustain. His bounding heart recoiled, and
the chill of despair running through his veins turned him faint.
Leaning against the passage door, he took his hat off to give himself
air. He scarcely had stood a minute in this situation, revolving
whether he should follow his friend into the house or wait until he
came out again, when a gentleman begged him to make way for a party
of ladies that were entering. Thaddeus moved to one side; but the
opening of the green door casting a strong light both on his face and
the group behind, his eyes and those of the impertinent inquisitor of
the Hummums met each other.
Whether the man was conscious that he deserved chastisement for his
former insolence, and dreaded to meet it now, cannot be explained;
but he turned pale, and shuffled by Thaddeus, as if he were fearful
to trust himself within reach of his grasp. As for the count, he was
too deeply interested in his own pursuit to waste one surmise upon
him.
He continued to muse on the sight of Pembroke Somerset, which had
conjured up ten thousand fond and distressing recollections; and with
impatient anxiety, determining to watch till the performance was
over, he thought of inquiring his friend's address of the servants;
but on looking round for that purpose, he perceived the chariot had
driven away.
Thus foiled, he returned to his post near the green door, which was
opened at intervals by footmen passing and repassing. Seeing that the
chamber within was a lobby, in which it would be less likely he
should miss his object than if he continued standing without, he
entered with the next person that approached; finding seats along the
sides he sat down on the one nearest to the stairs.
His first idea was to proceed into the playhouse. But he considered
the small chance of discovering any particular individual in so vast
a building as not equal to the expense he must incur. Besides, from
the dress of the gentlemen who entered the box-door, he was sensible
that his greatcoat and round hat were not admissible. [Footnote: A
nearly full dress was worn at that time by ladies and gentlemen at
the great theatres. And much respect has been lost to the higher
classes by the gradual change.]
Having remained above an hour with his eyes invariably fixed on the
stairs, he observed that some curious person, who had passed almost
directly after his friend, came down the steps and walked out. In two
minutes he was returning with a smirking countenance, when, his eyes
accidentally falling on the count, (who sat with his arms folded, and
almost hidden by the shadow of the wall,) he faltered in his step.
Stretching out his neck towards him, the gay grin left his features;
and exclaiming, in an impatient voice, "Confound him," he hastened
once more into the house.
This rencontre with his Hummums' acquaintance affected Thaddeus as
slightly as the former; and without annexing even a thought to his
figure as it flitted by him, he remained watching in the lobby until
half-past eleven. At that hour the doors were thrown open, and the
company began to pour forth.
The count's hopes were again on his lips and in his eyes. With the
first party who came clown the steps, he rose; and planting himself
close to the bottom stair, drew his hat over his face, and narrowly
examined each group as it descended. Every set that approached made
his heart palpitate. How often did it rise and fall during the long
succession which continued moving for nearly half an hour!
By twelve the house was cleared. He saw the middle door locked, and,
motionless with disappointment, did not attempt to stir, until the
man who held the keys told him to go, as he was about to fasten the
other doors.
This roused Thaddeus; and as he was preparing to obey, he asked the
man if there were any other passage from the boxes.
"Yes," cried he; "there is one into Drury Lane."
"Then, by that I have lost him!" was the reply which he made to
himself. And returning homewards, he arrived there a few minutes
after twelve.
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