If you have ever been to the Casino, you must have seen young Watts
O'Clock. He aspired, in his Gentish soul, to be "a Fast Man;" and
certainly his ambition was gratified, for he was universally looked upon
as the "Fastest of the Fast." He went so fast that eventually he
disappeared altogether.
I was going home very late, one dark morning, when I heard my name
called out. I looked up, and noticed before my door an immense
advertising van. The name issued again from one of the little windows at
the side, and, lo! I recognised the Roman nose of Watts O'Clock peeping
through it. Where there is a nose, I said, there must be a face; and if
there is a face, it is highly probable that there is a body somewhere to
it.
"Come up, my boy," the same voice and nose continued. I needed no
further invitation. In another minute I was inside the van. True enough,
it was young Watts. The interior was fitted up not very stylishly, but
just as good as any lodging-house. The walls were papered with a
handsome pattern, at three-halfpence a yard. In one corner of the room
was a turn-up bedstead, and in the other a large sofa. A table and two
chairs completed the furniture—with a meerschaum and a lucifer-box.
"Glad to see you," he said; "make yourself at home."
"It's a queer place for home," I could not help saying.
"Not at all. I've been here ten days, and I can assure you it's precious
comfortable. No taxes; and rent only three shillings a week; and nothing
for attendance. Not an extra, except occasionally a turnpike."
"And it has one advantage, you can go wherever you like, and move as
often as you please."
"Exactly. Last night I slept in Drury Lane; the night before in the
Borough; to-night, you see, I honour your neighbourhood with a visit;
this morning I make a call in Tottenham Court Road, and then on to
Gretna Green."
"Gretna Green!" I exclaimed; "whatever is taking you in an advertising
van to Gretna Green?"
"A matter of affection," he said, seriously. "Jack, did you ever see an
elopement in high life? Well, then, my good fellow, you shall see one
this morning. Here, I say, old slowcoach," he exclaimed, putting his
head out of the door, and speaking to the driver. "The old shop, Great
Russell Street; and take care of the corners, mind. The stupid fool
nearly upset the van the other day, driving sharp round Percy Street. I
was breakfasting at the time, and received the teapot in my bosom,
besides stamping a medal with the exact copy of my features on a pound
of butter."
"But how came you here?"
"Why, the constable drove me to it. We had a running match together last
week. The long-legged runner of the law was gaining rapidly upon me. I
saw Whitecross before me. Fear lent me the rapidity of a mad bull. Every
one got out of my way. I bounded through the Little Turnstile like a pea
through a tube. I found myself in Holborn. I felt the asthma of the
bailiff close behind me. My left shoulder ached with the ague of a
thousand writs. There is a touch in human nature which makes all mankind
run; and that is the touch of a sheriff's officer. I ran across the
road, but lo! an immense tower, a moving house, a mountain on wheels, in
short, an advertising van, obstructed my path. Hope whispered into my
ear, 'Get into it, you donkey!' In another minute I had jumped over the
driver's head, and was inside these hospitable walls. I peeped through
one of the eyes of 'Grimstone's Snuff' posters, and saw my pursuer
looking wildly for me in every direction, wondering where I had
disappeared to. I bought that good driver's silence, and I have remained
his tenant ever since. We go on remarkably well together, excepting when
he takes a strange turn, and upsets me by his clumsy driving. I stop
here, because it is not safe to venture out, and so I have furnished my
portable apartment as comfortably as I can." Here the van stopped, and
Watts said, "Now, my good fellow, I must trouble you to leave me. This
is the house where my flame lives. You see it is burning now in the
bedroom window. She elopes with me to-night. I have been courting her
now, thanks to that long ladder, for the last week. A modern version of
Romeo and Juliet. She has consented to entrust her fortune to me. She is
an heiress, as I needn't tell you. But her window opens. Dear creature,
how anxiously she's expecting me. Fondest Emily, I fly to you. Leave me,
Jackey, and witness this elopement in high life outside my humble
habitation." So saying, he ran up the ladder which was perched against
the side of the interior of his lodging. I watched him from the street.
The top of the monster cart was just on a level with the bedroom
windows. A fair form issued out of one. A pair of arms caught the
trembling figure, and they disappeared together down the hollow square
of the van. The next moment a handkerchief, with a portrait of the
winner of the Derby, was waved out of one of the little windows of the
vehicle, and I heard Watts's voice call out, "Coachman, Gretna Green!"
Whether the van ever reached its destination is a mystery which must
remain in darkness for the present.