Part 22 (1/2)
”That's all wery fine, but I must trouble yer to come along o' me; his Wusshup wants to speak to yer,” replied the beadle, seizing Coleman by the coat-collar.
”That is a pleasure his 'Wusshup' must contrive to postpone till he has caught me,” answered Freddy, as with a sudden jerk he succeeded in freeing himself from his captor's grasp, while, almost at the same moment, he dealt him a cuff on the side of the head which sent him reeling back to the door of the bell-tower, where encountering the mayor, who had just made his appearance, he came headlong to the ground, dragging that ill.u.s.trious functionary down with him in a frantic endeavour to save himself. Profiting by the confusion that ensued Freddy and I sprang forward, darted through the archway, and, making the best use of our legs, soon found ourselves in the open fields, and quite beyond the reach of pursuit.
CHAPTER XVI -- THE ROMAN FATHER
”If a dream should come in now to make you afear'd, With a wind-mill on his head, and bells at his beard; Would you straight wear your spectacles here at your toes, And your boots on your brows, and your spurs on your nose?”
--_Ben Jonson_.
”No-----he With more than Roman fort.i.tude is ever First at the board in this unhappy process Against his last and only son.”
--_The Two Foscari._
DREAMS, ye strange mysterious visions of the soul! Ye wild and freakish gambolings of the spirit, freed from the incubus of matter, and unfettered by the control of reason, of what fantastic caprices are ye the originators -137----what caricatures of the various features of our waking life do ye not exhibit to us, ludicrous and distorted indeed, but still preserving through their most extravagant exaggerations a wayward and grotesque likeness to the realities they shadow forth! And stranger even than your most strange vagaries, is the cool matter-of-fact way in which our sleeping senses calmly accept and acquiesce in the medley of impossible absurdities you offer to their notice. We conceive ourselves, for instance, proceeding along a green lane on horseback; the animal upon which we are mounted becomes suddenly, we know and care not how, a copper tea-kettle, and we ride quietly on without testifying, or even feeling, the least symptom of surprise, as though the ident.i.ty of hackneys and tea-kettles was a fact generally recognised in natural history; the kettle perhaps addresses us, it converses with us on all the subjects which interest us most deeply; and we discuss our various hopes and fears, joys and sorrows, loves and hates, with no other sentiment, save a degree of pleasure at the very sensible and enlightened views which the utensil takes of the matter. I might multiply examples, ad infinitum, to ill.u.s.trate my meaning; but to those who are familiar with the phenomena alluded to one instance will suffice; while those who have never experienced them will probably, at all events, take refuge in disbelief, and lament themselves with a self-satisfying sorrow over the fresh proof it adduces of the truth of the Israelitish monarch's aphorism, that ”all men are liars ”.
Be this as it may, my sleep (when, at length, after the excitement I had undergone, sleep condescended to visit me, which was not until, contrary to all the rules of good breeding, Somnus had allowed me to call upon him repeatedly in vain) was disturbed by all sorts and kinds of visions.
Lawlesses innumerable, attended by shoals of top-booted shrimps--the visionary shrimp being a sort of compromise between the boy so called and the real article--drove impossible dog-carts drawn by quadrupeds whose heads and necks bore a striking resemblance to the waltz-loving Diana Clapperton, up and down ball-rooms, to the unspeakable terror of squadrons of turbaned old ladies. Deafening peals of bells, rung by troops of Freddy ColeMEN (which I take to be the correct plural of Coleman), were rousing night-capped nations from their slumbers in alarm, to whom flocks of frightened mayors were bleating forth bewildered orders, which resulted in perplexing everybody; and through it all, mixed up and combined with everything, the pale interesting face of Clara Saville, -138--characterised by an expression of the deepest sadness, gazed at me reproachfully out of its large trustful eyes, and rendered me intensely miserable. From dreams such as these I was not sorry to be aroused by the sun s.h.i.+ning brightly through my window-shutter; and, on consulting my watch, I found, somewhat to my surprise, that I had slept till nearly midday.
On reaching the breakfast-room my first inquiry was for Lawless, in reply to which, I was informed that he had returned (on the fire-engine) about half an hour after I came in; that immediately upon his arrival he had called for unlimited supplies of rum, lemons, and other suitable ingredients, wherewith he manufactured a monster brewing of punch in a was.h.i.+ng-tub for the benefit of the firemen, with whom he had somehow contrived to establish the most amicable relations; he then a.s.sisted in discussing the beverage he had prepared, which appeared to produce no particular effects until, wis.h.i.+ng to rise to return thanks when they drank his health, he suddenly lost his balance, and being carried to bed by the waiter and boots, had not yet reappeared. Not liking to disturb him, I breakfasted alone, and then strolled out to look after Freddy. I found him sitting in the study, busily engaged in drawing the lease he had mentioned to us the night before. On seeing me, however, he sprang up, and, shaking me by the hand, inquired how I was after our adventures.
”That's all right, so far,” was his reply to my a.s.surance that my injured arm was going on favourably, and that I felt no other ill effects of any kind. ”I tell you what,” he continued, ”my governor's in no end of a rage about the bell-ringing affair: that old fool of a mayor recognised me it seems, and vows vengeance, threatening to do all sorts of things to me, and the governor swears he'll aid and abet him in anything he chooses to do. They had better take care what they are at, or they may find I'm not to be bullied with impunity; but come along into the drawing-room; I don't mind facing the elders now I've got you to support me; and really, what between my father's accusations and my mother's excuses, it's as good as a play.”
”You're abominably undutiful, Master Fred,” replied I, as I turned to follow him.
On reaching the drawing-room we found Mr. Coleman standing with his arms folded with an air of dignified severity, so exactly in the centre of the hearth-rug that he seemed to belong to the pattern. Seated in a low arm-chair on the right-hand side of the fireplace was Mrs.
-139--Coleman, apparently absorbed in the manufacture of some mysterious article of knitting, which constantly required propitiating by the repet.i.tion of a short arithmetical puzzle, without which it would by no means allow itself to be created. At her feet, engaged in the Sisyphian labour of remedying the effects of ”a great fall” in worsteds, scissors, and other ”articles for the work-table,” knelt Lucy Markham, looking so piquante and pretty, that I could not help wondering how my friend Freddy contrived to keep himself heart-whole, if, as I imagined, he was thrown constantly into her society. The party was completed by a large, sleek, scrupulously white cat, clearly a privileged individual, who sat bolt upright in the chair opposite Mrs. Coleman, regarding the company with an air of intense self-satisfaction, and evidently considering the whole thing got up for her express delectation. Mr. Coleman received me with pompous civility, hoping I felt no ill effects from my exertions in the _earlier_ part of the evening--taking care to lay a marked emphasis on the word earlier. Lucy acknowledged my presence by a smile and a slight inclination of the head, but without altering her position.
Worthy Mrs. Coleman, however, jumped up and shook hands warmly with me, thereby providing Lucy with full employment for the next ten minutes in picking up the whole machinery of the knitting.
”Very glad indeed to see you, Mr. Lawless,” commenced Mrs. Coleman.
”It's Fairlegh, mother,” interposed Freddy.
”Yes, my dear, yes, I knew it was Mr. Fairlegh, only I'm always making a mistake about names; but I never forget a face I have once seen; and I'm sure I'm not likely to forget Mr. Fairlegh's after the n.o.ble way in which he behaved last night” (here Mr. Coleman turned away with a kind of ironical growl, and began caressing the cat). ”I declare when I saw him setting Clara Saville's dress on fire, so nicely made as it was too----”
”My dear aunt,” remonstrated Lucy, ”it was Mr. Lawless who threw down the candelabrum, and set Clara's frock alight.”
”Yes, my love, I know, I saw it all, my dear; and very kind it was of him, I mean afterwards, in speaking to me of it; he said he was so very sorry about it--and he called it something funny, poor young man--'no end of a something or other '------”
”Sell,” suggested Freddy.
”Oh yes, that was it, no end of a sell. What did he mean by that, my dear?”
-140--”I strongly disapprove,” observed Mr. Coleman (who still continued stroking the cat as he spoke, which process he performed by pa.s.sing his hand deliberately from her head, along her back, to the very tip of her tail, which he retained each time in his grasp for a moment, ere he recommenced operations), ”I highly disapprove of the absurd practice, so common with young men of the present day, of expressing their ideas in that low and incomprehensible dialect, termed 'slang,' which, in my opinion, has neither wit nor refinement to redeem its vulgarity, and which effectually prevents their acquiring that easy yet dignified mode of expression which should characterise the conversation of the true gentleman. In _my_ younger days we took Burke for our model; the eloquence of Pitt and Fox gave the tone to society; and during our hours of relaxation we emulated the polished wit of Sheridan; but it is a symptom of that fearful levelling system which is one of the most alarming features of the present age; instead of striving to raise and exalt------”
”Really, my dear Mr. Coleman, I beg your pardon for interrupting you,”
cried his wife, ”but this is the second time you've lifted my poor little cat off her hind legs by her tail; and though she's as good as gold, and lets you do just what you like to her, it can't be pleasant for her, I'm sure.”
The only reply to this, if reply it can be called, was an angry ”Psha!”