Part 27 (2/2)

The walls, covered with a sort of tartan-French paper, variegated with bars of velvet, were hung round with mythological oil-paintings, suspended by ta.s.seled cords of twisted silver and blue.

They were such pictures as the high-priests, for a bribe, showed to Alexander in the innermost shrine of the white temple in the Libyan oasis: such pictures as the pontiff of the sun strove to hide from Cortez, when, sword in hand, he burst open the sanctorum of the pyramid-fane at Cholula: such pictures as you may still see, perhaps, in the central alcove of the excavated mansion of Pansa, in Pompeii--in that part of it called by Varro the hollow of the house: such pictures as Martial and Seutonius mention as being found in the private cabinet of the Emperor Tiberius: such pictures as are delineated on the bronze medals, to this day dug up on the ancient island of Capreas: such pictures as you might have beheld in an arched recess, leading from the left hand of the secret side-gallery of the temple of Aphrodite in Corinth.

In the princ.i.p.al pier was a marble bracket, sculptured in the semblance of a dragon's crest, and supporting a bust, most wonderful to behold. It was that of a bald-headed old man, with a mysteriously-wicked expression, and imposing silence by one thin finger over his lips. His 'marble mouth seemed tremulous with secrets.

”Sit down, Wellingborough,” said Harry; ”don't be frightened, we are at home.--Ring the bell, will you? But stop;”--and advancing to the mysterious bust, he whispered something in its ear.

”He's a knowing mute, Wellingborough,” said he; ”who stays in this one place all the time, while he is yet running of errands. But mind you don't breathe any secrets in his ear.”

In obedience to a summons so singularly conveyed, to my amazement a servant almost instantly appeared, standing transfixed in the att.i.tude of a bow.

”Cigars,” said Harry. When they came, he drew up a small table into the middle of the room, and lighting his cigar, bade me follow his example, and make myself happy.

Almost transported with such princely quarters, so undreamed of before, while leading my dog's life in the filthy forecastle of the Highlander, I twirled round a chair, and seated myself opposite my friend.

But all the time, I felt ill at heart; and was filled with an undercurrent of dismal forebodings. But I strove to dispel them; and turning to my companion, exclaimed, ”And pray, do you live here, Harry, in this Palace of Aladdin?”

”Upon my soul,” he cried, ”you have hit it:--you must have been here before! Aladdin's Palace! Why, Wellingborough, it goes by that very name.”

Then he laughed strangely: and for the first time, I thought he had been quaffing too freely: yet, though he looked wildly from his eyes, his general carriage was firm.

”Who are you looking at so hard, Wellingborough?” said he.

”I am afraid, Harry,” said I, ”that when you left me just now, you must have been drinking something stronger than wine.”

”Hear him now,” said Harry, turning round, as if addressing the bald-headed bust on the bracket,--”a parson 'pon honor!--But remark you, Wellingborough, my boy, I must leave you again, and for a considerably longer time than before:--I may not be back again to-night.”

”What?” said I.

”Be still,” he cried, ”hear me, I know the old duke here, and-”

”Who? not the Duke of Wellington,” said I, wondering whether Harry was really going to include him too, in his long list of confidential friends and acquaintances.

”Pooh!” cried Harry, ”I mean the white-whiskered old man you saw below; they call him the Duke:--he keeps the house. I say, I know him well, and he knows me; and he knows what brings me here, also. Well; we have arranged every thing about you; you are to stay in this room, and sleep here tonight, and--and--” continued he, speaking low--”you must guard this letter--” slipping a sealed one into my hand-”and, if I am not back by morning, you must post right on to Bury, and leave the letter there;--here, take this paper--it's all set down here in black and white--where you are to go, and what you are to do. And after that's done--mind, this is all in case I don't return--then you may do what you please: stay here in London awhile, or go back to Liverpool. And here's enough to pay all your expenses.”

All this was a thunder stroke. I thought Harry was crazy. I held the purse in my motionless hand, and stared at him, till the tears almost started from my eyes.

”What's the matter, Redburn?” he cried, with a wild sort of laugh--”you are not afraid of me, are you?--No, no! I believe in you, my boy, or you would not hold that purse in your hand; no, nor that letter.”

”What in heaven's name do you mean?” at last I exclaimed, ”you don't really intend to desert me in this strange place, do you, Harry?” and I s.n.a.t.c.hed him by the hand.

”Pooh, pooh,” he cried, ”let me go. I tell you, it's all right: do as I say: that's all. Promise me now, will you? Swear it!-no, no,” he added, vehemently, as I conjured him to tell me more--”no, I won't: I have nothing more to tell you--not a word. Will you swear?”

”But one sentence more for your own sake, Harry: hear me!”

”Not a syllable! Will you swear?--you will not? then here, give me that purse:--there--there--take that--and that--and that;--that will pay your fare back to Liverpool; good-by to you: you are not my friend,” and he wheeled round his back.

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