When the interview recorded in the last chapter had concluded, both
parties were pleased; but the pleasure of the one was far more durable
than that of the other. Nick Muggins enjoyed but a negative delight in
having escaped an imminent and threatening peril. But afterwards he
began to reflect; for he could think, seeing that he had nothing else
to do.
It is worth notice, that many apparently stupid, ignorant and obtuse
cubs, whose employment is monotonous and mechanical, possess a certain
degree of shrewdness, and exhibit occasionally symptoms of reflection
and observation to which more cultivated and educated minds are
strangers. Curious it is also to see the gaping wonderment with which
those, whose wisdom is from books, regard those who happen to have any
power or capacity of thought without the assistance of books. Gentle
reader, when you are next requested to write some wise sentence in a
lady's album, write the following: "books are more indebted to wisdom,
than wisdom is to books."
Nick, we have said, began to think; and the farther he was removed from
Robert Darnley's cane with the less delight did he contemplate his
escape. It came also into his mind that, although this young gentleman
had withheld the threatened infliction, yet there were other troubles
awaiting him, and other dangers threatening him. Drowning mariners, it
has been said, seldom calculate upon the consequence of their vows. Nor
did Muggins calculate upon the probable consequences of the confession
which he had made to escape an impending castigation.
He had escaped the cane of Robert Darnley, but he had thereby exposed
himself to the danger of a similar visitation from the hand of Lord
Spoonbill. There was also some probability, and no slight one, that he
might in addition to other calamities suffer the loss of his place.
People in office do not like to lose their places, for it makes them
very ill-humoured and provokes them to all manner of absurdities. Nick
also thought that if his place should be taken from him in consequence
of this his unfaithfulness, Lord Spoonbill would be also exposed, and
Lord Spoonbill being exposed would be mightily angry with Nick, and,
being angry with him, would not make him any remuneration for his loss.
Moreover Nick thought that Lord Spoonbill would call him a fool for
having divulged the secret, and Nick did not like to be called a fool.
Who does? So, in order to avoid being called a fool, Nick meditated
playing the rogue.
We by no means approve of this conduct, and we record it not as an
example, but as a caution; and we would seriously recommend all
persons in public offices to be as honest as they possibly can; or if
this political morality appears too rigid and savours of puritanical
strictness, we would advise them to be as honest as they conveniently
can.
The scheme of roguery which the letter-carrier devised, was destined
to be effected by means of epistolary correspondence with the Right
Honorable Lord Spoonbill; but fortunately for the rogue, as even
rogues are sometimes fortunate, the trouble of writing was saved him
by the personal appearance of Lord Spoonbill himself at the town of
M----, where Nick Muggins dwelt, and from which he carried the letters
to Smatterton and Neverden. It was a great pleasure to Muggins to be
saved the trouble of writing, for that operation was attended with much
labour and difficulty to him, seeing that he had many doubts as to the
shapes of letters and the meaning of words.
Muggins had not been at home many minutes before Lord Spoonbill
presented himself to the astonished eyes of the unfaithful
letter-carrier. His lordship was wonderfully condescending to honor so
humble a roof by his presence; but it was not the first time that he
had paid a visit to Mr Muggins in his own house. The object, or more
properly speaking the nature of the object, of his visit was guessed
at, and the spirit of Nick's knavery was kindled within him, and he was
prepared to say or do aught that his lordship might dictate or propose,
for the purpose of furthering the hereditary legislator's right
honorable pursuit.
Nick's residence is not indeed a matter of much importance to the
world, nor does its locality or aspect bear powerfully on the
development of our catastrophe, or greatly assist the progress of our
narrative. But we describe it, because we may thereby give our readers
a more complete and impressive idea of the great condescension of Lord
Spoonbill in visiting so obscure an abode.
The town of M---- was situated on the banks of a river. The streets
were long and narrow, and the houses high and dingy. The ground on
which the town was built was uneven, and the materials with which it
was paved were execrable. This is spoken of the best parts of the town,
of those streets which stood on the higher ground. The inferior part
was not paved at all, and was approachable only by an almost abrupt
descent through a lane or narrow street, in which the houses nearly met
at the top. The ground on which a passenger must walk was of a nature
so miscellaneous as almost to defy description, and quite to puzzle
analysis. Black mud, as everlasting as the perennial snows which rest
on the summits of inaccessible mountains, decayed vegetables of every
season of the year, refuse fish, unpicked bones of every conceivable
variety of animals, deceased cats and dogs and rats in every possible
degree of decomposition, broken bricks and tiles, and shreds of earthen
vessels of all variety of domestic application, sticks, stones, old
shoes, tin kettles and superannuated old saucepans, formed the dead
stock of the street. And the live stock was by no means calculated to
give to the spectator a high idea of the dignity of human nature. The
fair sex in these regions appeared by no means to any great advantage;
nature had done little for them and art less. In their voices there
was less melody than loudness, and in their language more energy than
elegance. They expressed their feelings without circumlocution, and
resented indignities with hand as well as tongue. In the air which they
breathed there might be enough to discompose and irritate, for the
decomposition of sprats is by no means fragrant; and when an atmosphere
is constantly burdened with the effluvia of soap, tallow, and train
oil, it is not calculated to soothe the irritated nerves.
To pass through such a region as this could not have been mightily
agreeable to the refined senses of Lord Spoonbill. But not only did he
pass through it, but he sought out in one of its meanest habitations
the carrier of the Smatterton and Neverden letter-bags. All this
however he did patiently undergo for love of Penelope Primrose.
"Muggins," said his lordship, "have you left a letter at Neverden
within this day or two for Mr Darnley?"
"Yes, my lord," replied the carrier.
"And did you see Mr Darnley when you delivered the letter?"
"Oh, yes, my lord, I see Mr Robert himself. And please, my lord, I am
almost afraid that you and I will be found out."
"Found out, you rascal! what do you mean?"
"Why, I means, my lord, please your lordship, that one of them letters
as I give your lordship is been picked up, and Mr Robert Darnley showed
it to me and axed whether I knowed nothing about it. And he said he'd
kill me if I did not tell him, and so I told him that I didn't know
nothing where it come from. And so, my lord, I'm quite afeard to go
again to Neverden, only I don't know what to do just to get a bit of
bread."
At this information the Right Honorable Lord Spoonbill was perplexed.
"Why, Muggins, if that is the case," said his lordship, "you had
better get away."
"Yes, my lord, but what will become of me if I give up my place?"
"Oh, leave that to me!" said his lordship, "and I will take care you
shall be no loser."
This was the point to which the crafty one wished to bring his right
honorable friend. Suffice it then to say that Lord Spoonbill, fancying
that he should place discovery out of the reach of probability, made
the rogue a very handsome present, and gave him letters whereby he
might find employment in London, which would more than compensate for
the loss of his place in the country.
Then did Lord Spoonbill under cover of night's darkness find his way
to Smatterton castle, pleasing himself with the thought that his
well-formed scheme was now likely to take effect, and that Mr Robert
Darnley, after the warning of the anonymous letter, would not be very
hasty to renew his acquaintance with Miss Primrose. It was of course
supposed by our readers, and intended to be so supposed, that the
anonymous letter above alluded to was sent, if not by Lord Spoonbill
himself, at least by his instigation, and for the purpose of forwarding
his designs. And, that the merit of the communication may not be
ascribed to a wrong personage, it is right to inform the world that the
writer of the same letter was Colonel Crop. By this gallant officer
Lord Spoonbill was now accompanied to Smatterton castle.
Colonel Crop was an excellent travelling companion, for he never
disturbed the train of his fellow-traveller's thoughts by any
impertinent prating. The dexterous economy which the colonel exercised
over his words and actions was quite surprising. He could make a little
go a great way. If for instance any friend, and many such there were,
invited the gallant colonel to dinner, it would seem that thereby an
occupation were afforded him for an hour or two previously for the
purpose of dressing. But the ingenious time-consumer managed to make
a whole morning's work of it. Equally economical was he of words. For
if his Right Honorable friend Lord Spoonbill should talk to him for a
whole hour together, the colonel would think it quite sufficient to
reply to the long harangue by simply saying: "'Pon honor! you
don't say so."
With this lively companion did Lord Spoonbill journey towards
Smatterton; and as his lordship wished to be left to his own thoughts,
his friend was not unwilling to indulge him; and thus did the
hereditary legislator enjoy the pleasure of silently congratulating
himself on the dexterity with which he had managed this affair; and
more especially was he delighted at the fortunate circumstance of
having removed Nick Muggins far away from the danger of being tempted
or terrified into confession of his unfaithfulness.
It did not enter, nor was it likely to enter into the mind of Lord
Spoonbill, that Nick Muggins had already impeached, and that Robert
Darnley was in possession of all the facts of the case. There was
something else also in the transactions of that day unknown to and
unsuspected by his lordship. That other matter to which we here allude,
was the visit which Robert Darnley had paid to Mr and Miss Primrose.
At the close of the preceding chapter we related that Mr Darnley
and the letter-carrier parted after their interview, and we have
accompanied Nick back to his home, and have narrated what took place
there. We may now therefore return to Robert Darnley, and accompany him
also in his visit to Smatterton.
After he had ascertained from Muggins the truth of the matter
concerning the suppressed letter, he no longer heeded the anonymous
communication which he had received; and instead of passing through the
park as he had designed, he proceeded immediately to the rectory.
He was most happy in the thought that now all doubts and perplexities
were removed from his mind, and he was much better able and far more
willing to believe that Penelope still remained pure, honorable, and
affectionate, than to give credence to the foul calumnies which had
been circulated concerning her. There are individuals in the world
of whom it is, ordinarily speaking, almost impossible to think ill.
Such was the character of Penelope Primrose to those well acquainted
with her. But the elder Mr Darnley being a mightily pompous and grand
sort of man, looked at almost every one from an awful distance.
Discrimination of character was by no means his forte. He thought that
the whole mass of mankind was divisible into two classes, the good
and the bad. He considered that the good must do as he did, and think
as he thought; and that the bad were those that opposed him. It was
his notion that it required only a simple volition for the good to
become bad and for the bad to become good. And when he heard that Miss
Primrose had transgressed, he forthwith believed the tale and renounced
her.
But to say nothing of the affection which the younger Darnley
entertained for the lady, and the pleasing hopes with which for so
long a period he had been accustomed to think of her, he could not
think it possible for a mind like hers ever to descend to the meanness
with which she had been charged. He did think it possible that,
in consequence of a supposed neglect on his part, and by means of
ingenious assiduities on the part of another, that her regards might
be transferred from him; but even that he would not believe without
positive evidence. Many a faithful heart had been broken, and many an
honest man has been hanged, by circumstantial evidence.
The meeting of the lovers was silent. They might have been previously
studying speeches; but these were forgotten on both sides. And in
their silence their looks explained to each other how much they had
respectively suffered from the villany of him who had interrupted their
correspondence. After a long and silent embrace, and gazing again and
again at those features which he had so loved to think of at a mighty
distance, Darnley at length was able to speak, and he said: "And you
have not forgotten me!" How cold these words do look on paper. But from
the living lips which spoke them, and from the energetic tenderness
with which they were uttered, and from the thought of that mental
suffering and that withering of heart which had been occasioned by
the fear of forgetfulness, and above all from the circumstance that
these were the first words which Penelope had heard from those lips
for so long, so very long a period, they came to her ear and heart
with a thrilling power, and awakened her from her silent trance to the
expression of that feeling which had almost subdued her.
"Forget!" she was attempting to echo her lover's words, but
emotion was too strong for the utterance of words, and she finished her
answer by falling on his neck and weeping audibly.
Might it not have done Lord Spoonbill good to have witnessed this
scene? Surely it might have taught him how little prospect there was of
the success of his designs; and he might, had he possessed the ordinary
feelings of humanity, have thought that the coronet must be brilliant
indeed which could tempt Penelope to renounce her lover.
But Lord Spoonbill saw it not, and suspected it not; if he had, it
certainly would have saved him a great deal of trouble.
The lovers, when they did recover themselves sufficiently to speak
composedly and collectedly, had volumes of talk for each other, and
Darnley was interested and moved by the narrative of Penelope's
excursion to London, and the narrow escape which she had from a
profession so ill adapted to the character and complexion of her mind.
But in all the conversation Darnley did not mention to Penelope the
anonymous letter which he had that morning received, nor did he say
a word concerning the confession of the letter-carrier. As to the
anonymous letter, he would not insult her even by alluding to the
existence of evil reports; and as to the suppressed letters, he feared
lest the impetuosity of the young lady's father might be productive of
mischief. He thought it at all events most desirable, at least so long
as they might remain in the neighbourhood of Smatterton castle, to let
Penelope suppose that the loss of the letters was accidental.
There may be some persons who think that under present circumstances it
was the duty of Robert Darnley to send Lord Spoonbill a challenge, or
to bestow upon his lordship that chastisement with which Nick Muggins
had been threatened. That Lord Spoonbill deserved a bodily castigation,
we will readily concede; but as to duelling, we conceive it to be a
very silly and useless practice, and we are not sorry that we are
not compelled to relate of the younger Darnley that his inclination
prompted him to adopt that very equivocal mode of demonstrating himself
to be a gentleman, or man of courage.
Very pleasantly passed the two or three hours which Robert Darnley
allowed himself to spend at Smatterton parsonage; very awkwardly passed
the dinner hour on his return to Neverden parsonage; for the Rev. Mr
Darnley would not speak to his son, and poor Mrs Darnley and the young
ladies were afraid to speak when the rector was silent.