Ten Thousand a-Year Volume I Part 13

"No, thank you--I can't--I can't eat!" sobbed t.i.tmouse.

"Oh, bother it, but you _shall_! I'll go down and fetch it up in half a minute, as sure as my name's Squallop!" And out of the room and down-stairs she bustled, glad of a moment to recover herself.

"Lord-a-mercy!" said she, on entering her room, to her eldest daughter and a neighbor who had just come in to supper--and while she hastily cut a thick hunch of bread, and a good slice of cheese--"there I've been a-rating that poor little chap, up at the top room, (my dandy lodger, you know,) like anything--and I really don't think he's had a morsel of victuals in his belly this precious day; and I've made him cry, poor soul! as if his heart would break. Pour us out half a pint of that beer, Sally--a _good_ half pint, mind!--I'm going to take it up-stairs directly. I've gone a deal too far with him, I do think; but it's all of that nasty old Gripe; I've been wrong all the day through it! How I hate the sight of old Gripe! What _hodious_ looking people they do get to collect the rates and taxes, to be sure!--Poor chap," she continued, as she wiped out a plate with her ap.r.o.n, and put into it the bread and cheese, together with a knife--"he offered me a chair when I went in, so uncommon civil-like, it took a good while before I could get myself into the humor to _give it_ him as I wanted. And he's no father nor mother, (half of which has happened to _you_, Sal, and the rest will happen one of these days, you know--so you mind me while you have me!) and he's not such a very bad lodger, after all, though he _does_ get a little behind-hand now and then, and though he turns out every Sunday like a lord, poor fool--as your poor dear father used to say, 'with a s.h.i.+ning back and empty belly.'"

"But that's no reason why honest people should be kept out of their own, to feed his pride," interposed her neighbor, a skinny old widow, who had never had chick nor child, and was always behind-hand with her own rent; but whose effects were not worth distraining upon. "I'd get hold of some of his fine crinc.u.m-cranc.u.ms and gimcracks, for security like, if I was you. I would, indeed."

"Why--no, poor soul--I don't hardly like: he's a vain creature, and puts everything he can on his back, to be sure; but he a'n't quite a _rogue_, neither."

"Ah, ha, Mrs. Squallop--you're such a simple soul!--Won't my fine gentleman make off with his finery after to-night?"

"Well, I shouldn't have thought it! To be sure he may! Really, there _can't_ be much harm in asking him (in a proper kind of way) to deposit one of his fine things with me, by way of security--that ring of his, you know--eh?--Well, I'll _try_ it anyhow," said Mrs. Squallop, as she set off up-stairs.

"I know what _I_ should do, if so be he was a lodger of _mine_, that's all," said her visitor, significantly, (as Mrs. Squallop quitted the room,) vexed to find her supper so considerably and unexpectedly diminished, especially as to the pot of porter, which she strongly suspected would not be replenished.

"There," said Mrs. Squallop, setting down on the table what she had brought for t.i.tmouse, "there's a bit of supper for you; and you're welcome to it, I'm sure, Mr. t.i.tmouse."

"Thank you, thank you--I can't eat," said he, casting, however, upon the victuals a hungry eye, which belied what he said, while in his heart he longed to be left alone with them for about three minutes.

"Come, don't be ashamed--fall to work--it's good wholesome victuals,"

said she, lifting the table near to the edge of the bed, on the side of which he was sitting, and taking up the two s.h.i.+llings lying on the table--"and capital good beer, I warrant me; you'll sleep like a top after it."

"You're uncommon kind, Mrs. Squallop; but I sha'n't get a wink of sleep to-night for thinking"----

"Oh, bother your thinking! Let me begin to see you eat a bit. Well, I suppose you don't like to eat and drink before me, so I'll go." [Here arose a sudden conflict in the good woman's mind, whether or not she would act on the suggestion which had been put into her head down-stairs. She was on the point of yielding to the impulse of her own good-natured, though coa.r.s.e feelings; but at last--] "I--I--dare say, Mr. t.i.tmouse, you mean what's right and straightforward," she stammered.

"Yes, Mrs. Squallop--you may keep those two s.h.i.+llings; they're the last farthing I have left in the whole world."

"No--hem!--hem!--ahem! I was just suddenly a-thinking--now can't you guess, Mr. t.i.tmouse?"

"What, Mrs. Squallop?" inquired t.i.tmouse, meekly but anxiously.

"Why--suppose now--if it were only to raise ten s.h.i.+llings with old b.a.l.l.s, round the corner, on one of those fine things of yours--your ring, say!" [t.i.tmouse's heart sank within him.] "Well, well--never mind--don't fear," said Mrs. Squallop, observing him suddenly turn pale again. "I--I only thought--but never mind! it don't signify--good-night!

we can talk about that to-morrow--good-night--a good night's rest to you, Mr. t.i.tmouse!" and the next moment he heard her heavy step descending the stairs. Some little time elapsed before he could recover from the agitation into which he had been thrown by her last proposal; but within five minutes of her quitting the room, there stood before him, on the table, an _empty_ plate and jug.

CHAPTER IV.

"The beast! the fat old toad!" thought he, the instant that he had finished masticating what had been supplied to him by real charity and good-nature--"the vulgar wretch!--the nasty canting old hypocrite!--I saw what she was driving at all the while!--she had her eye on my ring!--She'd have me p.a.w.n it at old b.a.l.l.s's--ha, ha!--Catch me! that's all!--Seven s.h.i.+llings a-week for this nasty hole!--I'll be bound I pay nearly half the rent of the whole house--the old cormorant!--out of what she gets from me! How I hate her! More than half my salary goes into her greasy pocket! Cuss me if I couldn't have kicked her down-stairs--porter, bread and cheese, and all--while she was standing canting there!--A snivelling old beldam!--p.a.w.n my ring!!--Lord!!"--Here he began to undress. "Ha! I'm up to her; she'll be coming here to-morrow, with that devil Thumbscrew, to distrain, I'll be sworn.

Well--I'll take care of _these_ anyhow;" and, kneeling down and unlocking his trunk, he took out of it his guard-chain, breast-pin, studs, and ring, carefully folded them up in paper, and depositing them in his trousers' pockets, resolved that henceforth their nightly resting-place should be--under his pillow; while during the day they should accompany his person whithersoever he went. Next he bethought himself of the two or three important papers to which Mr. Gammon had referred; and, with tremulous eagerness, read them over once or twice, but without being able to extract from them the slightest clew to their real character and bearing. Then he folded them up in a half sheet of writing-paper, which he proceeded to st.i.tch carefully beneath the lining of his waistcoat; after which he blew out his slim candle, and with a heavy sigh got into bed. For some moments after he had blown out the candle did the image of it remain on his aching and excited retina; and just so long did the thoughts of _ten thousand a-year_ dwell on his fancy, fading, however, quickly away amid the thickening gloom of doubts, and fears, and miseries, which oppressed him. There he lies, stretched on his bed, a wretched figure, lying on his breast, his head buried beneath his feverish arms. Anon, he turns round upon his back, stretches his wearied limbs to their uttermost, folds his arms on his breast, then buries them beneath the pillow, under his head. Now he turns on his right side, then on his left--presently he starts up, and with muttered curse shakes his little pillow, flinging it down angrily.

He cannot sleep--he cannot rest--he cannot keep still. Bursting with irritability, he gets out of bed, and steps to the window, which opening wide, a slight gush of fresh air cools his hot face for a moment or two.

His wearied eye looks upward and beholds the moon s.h.i.+ning overhead in cold splendor, turning the clouds to gold as they flit past her, and shedding a softened l.u.s.tre upon the tiled roofs and irregular chimney-pots--the only objects visible to him. No sound is heard, but occasionally the dismal cry of disappointed cat, the querulous voice of the watchman, and the echo of the rumbling hubbub of Oxford Street. O miserable t.i.tmouse! of what avail is it for thee thus to fix thy sorrowful lack-l.u.s.tre eye upon the cold Queen of Night!

At that moment there happened to be also gazing at the same glorious object, but at some two hundred miles' distance from London, a very different person, with very different feelings, and in very different circ.u.mstances. It was one of the angels of the earth--a pure-hearted and very beautiful girl; who, after a day of peaceful, innocent, and charitable employment, and having just quitted the piano, where her exquisite strains had soothed and delighted the feelings of her brother, hara.s.sed with political anxieties, had retired to her chamber for the night. A few moments before she was presented to the reader, she had extinguished her taper, and dismissed her maid without her having discharged more than half her accustomed duties--telling her that she should finish undressing by the light of the moon, which then poured her soft radiance into every corner of the s.p.a.cious but old-fas.h.i.+oned chamber. Then she drew her chair to the window-recess, and pus.h.i.+ng open the window, sat before it, only partially undressed as she was, her hair dishevelled, her head leaning on her hand, gazing upon the scenery before her with tranquil admiration. Silence reigned absolutely. Not a sound issued from the ancient groves, which spread far and wide on all sides of the fine old mansion in which she dwelt--solemn solitudes, nor yet less soothing than solemn! Was not the solitude enhanced by a glimpse she caught of a restless fawn, glancing in the distance across the avenue, as he silently changed the tree under which he slept?--Then the gentle breeze would enter her window, laden with sweet scents of which he had just been rifling the coy flowers beneath, in their dewy repose, tended and petted during the day by her own delicate hand!--Beautiful moon!--cold and chaste in thy skyey palace, studded with brilliant and innumerable gems, and shedding down thy rich and tender radiance upon this lovely seclusion--was there upon the whole earth a more exquisite countenance then turned towards thee than hers?--Wrap thy white robe, dearest Kate, closer round thy fair bosom, lest the amorous night-breeze do thee hurt, for he groweth giddy with the sight of thy charms! Thy rich tresses, half-uncurled, are growing damp--- so it is time that thy blue eyes should seek repose. Hie thee, then, my love!--to yon antique couch, with its quaint carvings and satin draperies dimly visible in the dusky shade, inviting thee to sleep: and having first bent in cheerful reverence before thy Maker--to bed!--to bed!--sweet Kate, nothing disturbing thy serene slumbers, or agitating that beautiful bosom.--Hus.h.!.+ hus.h.!.+--now she sleeps! It is well that thine eyes are closed in sleep; for BEHOLD--see!--the brightness without is disappearing; sadness and gloom are settling on the face of nature; the tranquil night is changing her aspect; clouds are gathering, winds are moaning; the moon is gone:--but sleep on, sweet Kate--sleep on, dreaming not of dark days before thee--Oh, that thou couldst sleep on till the brightness returned!

After having stood thus leaning against the window for nearly half an hour, t.i.tmouse, heavily sighing, returned to bed--but there he tossed about in wretched restlessness till nearly four o'clock in the morning.

If he now and then sank into forgetfulness for a while, it was only to be hara.s.sed by the dreadful image of Mrs. Squallop, shouting at him, tearing his hair, cuffing him, flinging a pot of porter in his face, opening his boxes, tossing his clothes about, taking out his invaluable ornaments; by Tag-rag kicking him out of the shop; and Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap das.h.i.+ng past him in a fine carriage, with six horses, and paying no attention to him as he ran shouting and breathless after him; Huckaback following, kicking and pinching him behind. These were the few little bits of different colored gla.s.s in a mental kaleidoscope, which, turned capriciously round, produced those innumerable fantastic combinations out of the simple and ordinary events of the day, which we call _dreams_--tricks of the wild sisters Fancy, when sober Reason has left her seat for a while. But this is fitter for the Royal Society than the bedroom of t.i.ttlebat t.i.tmouse; and I beg the reader's pardon.

About six o'clock, t.i.tmouse rose and dressed himself; and, slipping noiselessly and swiftly down-stairs, and out of the court, in order to avoid all possibility of encountering his landlady or his tailor, soon found himself in Oxford Street. Not many people were stirring there. One or two men who pa.s.sed him were smoking their morning's pipe, with a half-awakened air, as if they had only just got out of a snug bed, in which they always slept every moment that they lay upon it. t.i.tmouse almost envied them! What a squalid figure he looked, as he paced up and down, till at length he saw the porter of Messrs. Tag-rag & Co. opening the shop-door. He soon entered it, and commenced another jocund day in that delightful establishment. The amiable Mr. Tag-rag continued unaltered.

"You're at liberty to take yourself off, sir, this very day--this moment, sir; and a good riddance," said he, bitterly, during the course of the day, after demanding of t.i.tmouse how he dared to give himself such sullen airs; "and then we shall see how charming easy it is for gents like you to get another sitiwation, sir! Your looks and manner is quite a recommendation, sir! If I was you, sir, I'd raise my terms!

You're worth double what I give, sir!" t.i.tmouse made no reply. "What do you mean, sir, by not answering me--eh, sir?" suddenly demanded Mr.

Tag-rag, with a look of fury.

"I don't know what you'd have me say, sir. What am I to say, sir?"

inquired t.i.tmouse, with a sigh.

"What, indeed! I should like to catch you! Say, indeed! Only say a word--and out you go, neck and crop. Attend to that old lady coming in, sir. And mind, sir, I've got my eye on you!" t.i.tmouse did as he was bid; and Tag-rag, a bland smile suddenly beaming on his attractive features, hurried down towards the door, to receive some lady-customers, whom he observed alighting from a carriage; and at that moment you would have sworn that he was one of the kindest-hearted sweetest-tempered men in the world.

When at length _this_ day had come to a close, t.i.tmouse, instead of repairing to his lodgings, set off, with a heavy heart, to pay a visit to his excellent friend Huckaback, whom he knew to have received his quarter's salary the day before, and from whom he faintly hoped to succeed in extorting some trifling loan. "If you want to learn the value of money, _try to borrow some_," says Poor Richard--and t.i.tmouse was now going to learn that useful but bitter lesson. Oh, how disheartening was Mr. Huckaback's reception of him! That gentleman, in answering the modest knock of t.i.tmouse, suspecting who was his visitor, opened the door but a little way, and in that little way, with his hand on the latch, he stood, with a plainly repulsive look.

"Oh! it's you, t.i.tmouse, is it?" he commenced coldly.

"Yes. I--I just want to speak a word to you--only a word or two, Hucky, if you aren't busy?"

"Why, I was just going to go--but what d'ye want, t.i.tmouse?" he inquired in a freezing manner, not stirring from where he stood.

"_Let_ me come inside a minute," implored t.i.tmouse, feeling as if his little heart were really dropping out of him: and, in a most ungracious manner, Huckaback motioned him in.

"Well," commenced Huckaback, with a chilling distrustful look.

"Why, Huck, I know you're a good-natured chap--you _couldn't_, just for a short time, lend me ten s.h.i.+ll"----

"No, curse me if I can: and that's flat!" briskly interrupted Huckaback, finding his worst suspicions confirmed.

"Why, Hucky, wasn't you only yesterday paid your salary?"

"Well!--suppose I was?--what then? You're a monstrous cool hand, t.i.tmouse! I never!! So I'm to lend to you, when I'm starving myself!

I've received such a lot, too, haven't I?"

"I thought we'd always been friends, Hucky," said t.i.tmouse, faintly; "and so we shouldn't mind helping one another a bit! Don't you remember, I once lent you half-a-crown?"

"Half-a-crown!--and that's nine months ago!"

"Do, Hucky, do lend me a few s.h.i.+llings. 'Pon my soul, I've not a sixpence in the whole world."

"Ha, ha! A pretty chap to borrow! You can pay so well! By George, t.i.tmouse, you're a cool hand!"

"If you won't lend me, I must starve."

"Go to _my uncle's_." [t.i.tmouse groaned aloud.] "Well--and why not? What of that?" continued Huckaback, sharply and bitterly. "I dare say it wouldn't be the first time you've done such a trick no more than me.