Фредерик Марриет
Newton Forster
Chapter XLIII
"Angels and ministers of grace defend us!
Be thy intents wicked or charitable,
Thou com'st in such a questionable shape
That I will speak to thee."
SHAKESPEARE.
It was past two o'clock when Mr John Forster returned from his chambers, and let himself in with a pass-key. Having secured the street-door, the old gentleman lighted his candle from the lamp, which he then blew out, and had his foot upon the first step of the stairs, when he was startled by a loud snore from Nicholas in the dining-room; he immediately proceeded there, and found his brother, with his head still lying on the table.
"Humph!" ejaculated the lawyer. "Why, brother Nicholas! brother Nicholas!"
Nicholas, who had nearly slept off the effects of the wine, answered with an unintelligible sort of growling.
"Brother Nicholas, I say,—brother Nicholas,—will you get up, or lie here all night?"
"They shall be cleaned and ready by to-morrow morning," replied Nicholas, dreaming.
"Humph! that's more than you will be, apparently,—I say, brother Nicholas."
"Yes, brother," replied Nicholas, raising his head and staring at the candle. "Why, what's the matter?"
"The matter is, that I wish to go to bed, and wish to see you in bed before I go myself."
"Yes, brother John, if you please, certainly. Where's my bed? I do believe I have been asleep."
"Humph! I have no doubt upon the subject," replied John Forster, lighting another candle. "Come this way, brother Nicholas," and they both ascended the stairs.
When Mr John Forster arrived at the door of his own room, on the first storey, he stopped. "Now, brother Nicholas, are you quite awake? Do you think that I may trust you with the candle?"
"I should hope so," replied Nicholas; "I see that it is silver, but I hope I'm honest, brother John."
"Humph! I mean, can I trust you to put it out?"
"Yes, I think that you may. Pray, which is my room?"
"The first door on the left, when you are at the top of the stairs."
"The first door."
"Yes, the first on the left; do you understand?"
"Yes, brother, I do; the first door on the left."
"Very well; then I wish you a good-night."
"Good-night, brother," replied Nicholas, ascending the stairs as John Forster entered his room.
Nicholas arrived at the head of the stairs; but his brain was not very clear. He muttered to himself "I think I'm right—yes, I'm right—the first door—to the right—yes—that's it;" and instead of the room to the left, where Newton was, he walked into the one to the right, which appertained to the housekeeper, Mrs Smith.
The old lady was fast asleep. Nicholas threw off his clothes, put out his candle, and stepped into bed without waking the old lady, whom he supposed to be his son, and in a few minutes they snored in concert.
The morning dawned. The watchmen (London nightingales) ceased their notes and retired to their beds. The chimney-sweeps (larks of the metropolis) raised their shrill cry as they paced along with chattering teeth. Housemaids and kitchen-maids presented their back views to the early passengers as they washed off the accumulation of the previous day from the steps of the front-door.
"Milk below" (certainly much below "proof") was answered by the ascent of the busy cooks, when a knock at the door of Mrs Smith's room from the red knuckles of the housemaid, awoke her to a sense of her equivocal situation.
At her first discovery that a man was in her bed, she uttered a scream of horror, throwing herself upon her knees, and extending her hands before her in her amazement. The scream awoke Nicholas, who, astonished at the sight, and his modesty equally outraged, also threw himself in the same posture, facing her, and recoiling. Each looked aghast at each: each considered the other as the lawless invader; but before a word of explanation could pass between them, their countenances changed from horror to surprise, from surprise to anxiety and doubt.
"Why!" screamed the housekeeper, losing her breath with astonishment.
"It is!" cried Nicholas, retreating further.
"Yes—yes—it is—my dear Nicholas!"
"No—it can't be," replied Nicholas, hearing the fond appellation.
"It is—oh! yes—it is your poor unhappy wife, who begs your pardon, Nicholas," cried the housekeeper, bursting into tears, and falling into his arms.
"My dear—dear wife!" exclaimed Nicholas, as he threw his arms around her, and each sobbed upon the other's shoulder.
In this position they remained a minute, when Mr John Forster, who heard the scream and subsequent exclamations, and had taken it for granted that his brother had been guilty of some contretemps, first wiped the remaining lather from his half-shaved chin, and then ascended to the housekeeper's room, from whence the noise had proceeded. When he opened the door, he found them in the position we have described, both kneeling in the centre of the bed embracing and sobbing. They were so wrapt in each other, that they did not perceive his entrance. Mr John Forster stared with amazement for a few seconds, and thus growled out:—
"Why, what are you two old fools about?"
"It's my husband, sir,"—"It's my wife, brother John," cried they, both at once, as the tears coursed down their cheeks.
"Humph!" ejaculated the lawyer, and he quitted the room.
We must let the reader imagine the various explanations which took place between Nicholas and his truly reformed wife, Newton and his uncle, Amber, and everybody in the household, while we narrate the events which had brought about this singular dénouement.
The reader may recollect that we left Mrs Forster in the lunatic asylum, slowly recovering from an attack of brain-fever, which had been attended with a relapse. For many weeks she continued in a state of great feebleness, and during that time, when in the garden, in company with other denizens of this melancholy abode (wishing to be usefully employed), she greatly assisted the keepers in restraining them, and, in a short time, established that superiority over them which is invariably the result of a sane intellect. This was soon perceived by Doctor Beddington, who (aware of her destitute condition) offered her a situation as nurse in the establishment, until the inspecting magistrates should make their appearance, with the promise that she might continue in it afterwards, if she thought proper. This proposal was accepted by Mrs Forster, until she might resolve what course to take, and she soon became a most invaluable person in the establishment, effecting more by lenient and kind treatment than the keepers were able to do by their violence. So completely changed was Mrs Forster in disposition, that so far from feeling any resentment against those who had been the means of her confinement, she acknowledged to herself that her own conduct had been the occasion of her misfortune, and that those who had contributed to open her eyes to her former insanity, were her best friends. She was humbled, and unhappy; but she kissed the rod. All that she now wished was to find out her husband, and by her future conduct to make reparation for the past. One of the gaolers, at her request, made every inquiry as to the part of England to which Nicholas had removed; but it was without success. All trace was lost; and Mrs Forster accepted the situation of nurse, until she might be enabled to prosecute her search, or obtain the intelligence which she desired.
For nine months Mrs Forster remained on the establishment, during which time she had saved a sum of money sufficient for her support and travelling expenses. She then resolved to search after her husband, whose pardon for her previous conduct seemed to be the sine qua non for which she continued to exist. She took leave of the doctor; and, strange to say, it was with feelings of regret that she quitted an abode, once the source of horror and disgust: but time reconciles us to everything, and she made a half promise to Dr Beddington, that if she could not hear any tidings of her husband, or should discover that he was no more, she would return to the situation.
Mrs Forster directed her course to London; why, or wherefore, she hardly knew; but she had imbibed the idea that the metropolis was the most likely place to meet with him. Her first inquiries were about any families of the name of Forster; but the Directory gave such an enormous list of Forsters, of all trades and callings, and in every situation in life, that she closed it with despair. She had a faint recollection that her husband (who was never very communicative, and least of all to her) had stated that he had a brother alive somewhere; but this was all that she knew. Nevertheless, she set about her task in good earnest, and called upon every one of the name in the middling classes of life, to ascertain if they were relations of her husband. There were many in high life whose names and addresses she had obtained from the Red-book; but to them she dared not apply. All she could do was to question the servants; but every answer was unsatisfactory; and Mrs Forster, whose money was nearly expended, had serious thoughts of returning to the lunatic establishment, when the advertisement in the newspapers, of Mr Scratton, for a housekeeper, which Mr John Forster had desired him to procure, met her eye. Unwilling to leave London, she applied for, and obtained the situation, having received an excellent character from Doctor Beddington, to whom she had written and explained her views.
Her heart leapt when she discovered that her master's name was Forster: and when she first saw him she could not but persuade herself that there was a family likeness. The germs of hope were, however, soon withered, when Amber, in answer to her inquiries, stated that Mr Forster had a brother lately dead, who had never been married, and that she never heard of his having another. Her fellow-servants were all as strange as herself, and Mrs Forster (who had assumed the name of Smith) was obliged to have recourse to that patience and resignation which had been so severely inculcated. The charge of Amber soon proved a source of delight; the control which she had over the household a source of gratification (not, as before, for the pleasure of domineering, but for the sake of exercising kindness and forbearance), and Mrs Forster was happy and resigned.
It may be surmised as strange, that during the period which she remained in this capacity, she had never heard mention of her husband or her son; but it must be remembered that Nicholas had never called upon his brother, and that Newton was in the East Indies; and, moreover, that Mr John Forster was just as little inclined to be communicative as her husband. Indeed, he never came in contact with his housekeeper, except to pay the bills, which was regularly once a month, when he called her down after dinner, and after the accounts were settled, offered her a glass of wine, as a proof of his being satisfied with her conduct. When Newton and his father arrived at the chambers on the day before the discovery, and were invited to dinner, his note of communication was as laconic as usual.
"Mrs Smith,—I have invited two gentlemen to dine with me to-day, six precisely.
"John Forster."
"P.S.—Let the spare bed be ready."
Mrs Forster prepared everything as directed; and having done her duties below, retired to her room, where she usually sat with Amber. She did not therefore see the parties when they entered; and Amber, who had run down to meet her protector, heard nothing during her short stay in the room, to suppose that they were relatives of Mr John Forster. All that she had to communicate was, that the parties were an elderly gentleman and a very handsome young man.
Yet even this simple communication caused the pulse of Mrs Forster to accelerate. They might be her husband and her son. It was the first time that the spare bed had been ordered. Reflection, however, convinced her that her hopes were strung upon too slight a thread; and, musing on the improbability of not having ascertained during a year the fact of her master having so near a relative—moreover, her son was not in existence—she sighed, and dismissed the idea as ridiculous. Before the gentlemen had finished their wine, Amber was in bed, and Mrs Forster invariably sat at the side of it until her own hour of repose had arrived. A certain indefinable curiosity still remained lurking; yet, as she could not gratify it without intrusion (if the strangers were still up), she retired to bed, with the reflection that all her doubts would be relieved in the morning; and, after lying awake for some hours in a state of suspense, she at last fell into that sound sleep which is usually produced by previous excitement. How she was awakened from it, the reader has been already informed.
"It's rather awkward, Newton," said Mr John Forster, about ten days afterwards. "I cannot do without your mother, that's certain; but what am I to do with your father? Humph! Well, she must take charge of him as well as Amber. She must teach him—"
"Teach him what, sir?" replied Newton, laughing.
"Teach him what? Why, to leave my watch and spectacles alone. I dare not lay them down for a moment."
"I think we may teach him that, sir, if it is all that you require."
"I ask no more: then he may go about the house like a tame rabbit. When will your ship be ready, boy?"
"In about a fortnight, sir. I called upon Captain Oughton the day before yesterday, but he was not at home. His steward gave me the information."
"What is the name of the ship?"
"The Windsor Castle, sir."
"Why, all the India ships appear to be called Castles. Your last ship was the Bombay Castle, I think?"
"Yes, sir: there are a great many of them so named—they really are floating castles."
"And full of ladies. You 'castle your queens,' as they do at chess. Humph!"
A pun from Mr John Forster was a rarity: he never had been known to make one before: and Newton asserts that he never heard him guilty of it afterwards. It deserves, therefore, bad as it was, to be recorded.
Chapter XLIV
"–but to stick to my route
'Twill be hard, if some novelty can't be struck out.
Is there no Algerine, no Kamschatkan arrived?
No plenipo-pacha, three-tail'd and three wived?
No Russian, whose dissonant, consonant name
Almost rattles to fragments the trumpet of fame?
POSTSCRIPT.
By-the-bye, have you found any friend who can construe
That Latin account, t'other day, of a monster?
If we can't get a Russian—and that story in Latin
Be not too improper, I think I'll bring that in."
MOORE.
A few mornings after this colloquy with his uncle, Newton was very busy perambulating the streets of London, in search of various requisites for his trip to India, when his hand was seized before he had time to call to mind the features of the party who shook it with such apparent warmth.
"My dear Mr Forster, I am so delighted to see you, so happy to hear of your gallant adventure with the French squadron. Mrs Plausible will be quite pleased at meeting her old shipmate; she often talks about you. I must make sure of you," continued the doctor, drawing from his pocket a large packet of cards, and inserting at the top of one Newton Forster's name with his pencil. "This is an invitation to our conversazione of to-morrow night, which you must do us the honour to accept. We shall have all the scientific men of the day, and a very pretty sprinkling of nobility, if not something more. However, you will see. Shall I tell Mrs Plausible that you will come, or will you disappoint her?"
"Why," replied Newton, "if I possibly can I will. I presume the hour is not very precise?"
"O no, from nine until two or three; but if you wish to see great people, about eleven is the exact time."
"Well, then," replied Newton, "the time which suits great people also suits me. I hope Mrs Plausible is quite well."
"Quite well, I thank you. Good-bye;" and Dr Plausible hurried off so quickly, that Newton was induced to look after him, to ascertain what could induce such precipitation. He perceived Dr Plausible shaking hands warmly with another gentleman, and after a few seconds the packet of cards was again pulled out of his pocket, and the pencil in requisition. It will be necessary to go back a little, to acquaint the reader with what had occurred since the acceptation of Dr Plausible by Miss Tavistock, when they were on board of the Bombay Castle. On their arrival at Madras, Miss Tavistock's early and dearest friend, who resided in the up-country, had commissioned an acquaintance to receive Miss Tavistock until they could make arrangements for her journey to the interior. By this female acquaintance Miss Tavistock was kindly welcomed, and received into her house; but Miss Tavistock's prospects having altered, so had all her devoted attachment to the friend of her early years. She wrote, announcing her intended change of condition, and regretting that Dr Plausible's affairs, requiring his immediate presence in England, would prevent her having the delight of embracing one, who was so entwined round her heart. The letter was nevertheless very cold, and Miss Tavistock was very much abused by her dearest friend, who, disappointed in her expectations, did not even condescend an answer. In a week Miss Tavistock was united to Dr Plausible; and in less than a fortnight afterwards they were on their passage home. Dr Plausible found that his wife's report of her circumstances was correct, and that now he had the means of keeping his carriage and of seeing company, in moderation. Shortly after their return, Dr Plausible took the lease of a house in a betwixt and between fashionable street, and not wishing to remain idle, attempted to get into practice as an accoucheur; for although the fortune brought by his wife was considerable, still, to keep his carriage in London, he was obliged "to sail nearer to the wind" in other points than he found agreeable: moreover he was ambitious. A night-bell, with "night-bell" in capital letters over it, that people might be aware in the broad day that it was a night-bell, which of course they could not read in the dark, was attached to one side of the street door. It was as loud as an alarum-bell, and when rung, was to be heard from No. 12 to No. 44, in the street where Dr Plausible resided.
There are little secrets in all trades; and one is, how to obtain practice as a medical man, which whole mystery consists in making people believe that you have a great deal. When this is credited, practice immediately follows; and Dr Plausible was aware of the fact. At first setting off, his carriage drew up to the door occasionally, and stood there for some time, when the doctor made his appearance, and stepped in. He then took a round of about three hours through every fashionable part of the town, sitting well forward, that everybody might see him, apparently examining his visiting-book. At times he would pull up at some distinguished person's door, when there were two or three carriages before him, and getting out, would go in to the porter to ask some frivolous question. Another ruse was, to hammer at some titled mansion, and inquire for another titled person, by mistake. This occupied the morning; after which Doctor Plausible returned home. During the first month the night-bell was rung two or three times a week by the watchman, who was fee'd for his trouble; but after that period it increased its duties, until it was in motion once, if not twice, every night, and his disturbed neighbours wished Doctor Plausible and his extensive practice at the devil. The carriage also was now rattled to the door in a hurry, and Doctor Plausible was seen to enter it with his case of instruments, and drive off with rapidity, sometimes twice a day. In the meantime, Mrs Plausible did her part, as she extended her acquaintance with her neighbours. She constantly railed against a medical husband; declared that Doctor Plausible was never at home, and it was impossible to say at what hour they might dine. The tables also were strewed with the cards of great and fashionable people, obtained by Doctor Plausible from a celebrated engraver's shop, by a douceur to the shopman, when the master was absent. At last, Doctor Plausible's instruments were used in good earnest; and, although not known or even heard of in the fashionable world, he was sent for by the would-be-fashionables, because they imagined that he was employed by their betters. Now it so happened that in the same street there lived another medical man, almost a prototype of Doctor Plausible, only not quite so well off in the world. His name was Doctor Feasible. His practice was not extensive, and he was encumbered with a wife and large family. He also very naturally wished to extend his practice and his reputation; and, after many fruitless attempts, he at last hit upon a scheme which he thought promised to be successful.
"My dear," said he, one morning to his wife, "I am thinking of getting up a conversazione."
"A conversazione, my love!—why, is not that a very expensive affair?"
"Why, not very. But if it brings me practice, it will be money well laid out."
"Yes, my love, if it does, and if we had the money to lay out."
"Something must be done. I have hardly a patient left. I have an idea that it will succeed. Go, my dear, and make up this prescription, and let the boy take it to Mrs Bluestone's. I wish I had a couple of dozen patients like her. I write her prescription, take my fee, and then, that I may be sure that it is properly made up, I volunteer to take it to the chemist's myself."
"Pray, what is the complaint of Mrs Bluestone, my love?"
"Nothing; she over-eats herself—that's all. Abernethy would cure her in twenty-four hours."
"Well, but, my love, about this conversazione?"
"Go and make up the prescription, my dear, and we'll talk the matter over afterwards."
They did so. A list of the people they were acquainted with was drawn out, the expense calculated, and the affair settled.
The first point to be considered was the size of the cards.
"These, my love," said Mrs Feasible, who came in from a long walk, with her bonnet still on, "these are three shillings and sixpence a hundred; and these, which are a size larger, are four-and-sixpence. Which do you think we ought to have?"
"Why, really, my dear, when one sends out so many, I do not see why we should incur unnecessary expense. The three-and-sixpenny ones are quite large enough."
"And the engraving will be fourteen shillings."
"Well, that will only be a first expense. Conversazione in old English, of course."
"And here, my love, are the ribbons for the maids' caps and sashes; I bought them at Waterloo House, very cheap, and a very pretty candle-light colour."
"Did you speak to them about their gowns?"
"Yes, my love; Sally and Peggy have each a white gown, Betty I can lend one of my own."
The difference between a conversazione and a rout is simply this:—in the former you are expected to talk or listen, but to be too ethereal to eat. In the latter, to be squeezed in a crowd, and eat ices, &c., to cool yourselves. A conversazione has, therefore, a great advantage over the latter, as far as the pocket is concerned, it being much cheaper to procure food for the mind than food for the body. It would appear that tea has been as completely established the beverage of modern scientific men, as nectar was formerly that of the gods. The Athenæum gives tea; and I observed in a late newspaper, that Lord G– has promised tea to the Geographical Society. Had his lordship been aware that there was a beverage invented on board ship much more appropriate to the science over which he presides than tea, I feel convinced he would have substituted it immediately; and I therefore take this opportunity of informing him that sailors have long made use of a compound which actually goes by the name of geo-graffy, which is only a trifling corruption of the name of the science, arising from their habit of laying the accent upon the penultimate. I will now give his lordship the receipt, which is most simple.
Take a tin pot, go to the scuttle-butt (having obtained permission from the quarter-deck), and draw off about half a pint of very offensive-smelling water. To this add a gill of vinegar and a ship's buscuit broken up into small pieces. Stir it well up with the fore-finger; and then, with the fore-finger and thumb, you may pull out the pieces of buscuit, and eat them as fast as you please, drinking the liquor to wash all down.
Now this would be the very composition to hand round to the Geographical Society. It is not christened geography without a reason; the vinegar and water representing the green sea, and the pieces of buscuit floating in it the continents and islands which are washed by it.
Now, my lord, do not you thank me for my communication?
But we must return to the conversazione of Doctor and Mrs Feasible.
The company arrived. There was rap after rap. The whole street was astounded with the noise of the wheels and the rattling of the iron steps of the hackney-coaches. Doctor Feasible had procured some portfolios of prints; some Indian idols from a shop in Wardour Street, duly labelled and christened, and several other odds and ends to create matter of conversation. The company consisted of several medical gentlemen and their wives, the great Mr B–, and the facetious Mr C–. There were ten or twelve authors, or gentlemen suspected of authorship, fourteen or fifteen chemists, all scientific of course, one colonel, half-a-dozen captains, and to crown all, a city knight and his lady, besides their general acquaintance, unscientific and unprofessional. For a beginning this was very well; and the company departed very hungry, but highly delighted with their evening's entertainment.
"What can all that noise be about?" said Mrs Plausible to her husband, who was sitting with her in the drawing-room, reading the Lancet, while she knotted, or did not.
"I am sure I cannot tell, Mrs Plausible."
"There, again! I'm sure if I have heard one, I have heard thirty raps at a door within this quarter of an hour. I'm determined I will know what it is," continued Mrs Plausible, getting up, and ringing the bell.
"Thomas, do you know what all that noise is about?" said Mrs Plausible, when the servant answered the bell.
"No, ma'am, I doesn't."
"Well, then, go and see."
"Yes, ma'am."
The impatience of Mrs Plausible, during the absence of Thomas, increased with the repetition of the knocks.
"Well, Thomas?" said she, as the footman entered.
"If you please, ma'am, Mr Feasible has got a conwersation—that's all."
"Got a what?"
"A conversazione he means, my dear. It's very strange that Doctor Feasible should pretend to give such a thing!"
"I think so too," replied the lady. "He keeps no carriage. What can be his inducement?"
"I perceive," replied Dr Plausible, "he wants to get practice. Depend upon it, that's his plan. A sprat to catch mackerel!"
Husband and wife were again silent, and resumed their occupations; but the Lancet was not read, and the knotting was all in knots, for they were both in a brown study. At last, Mrs Plausible commenced:—
"I really do not see, my dear, why we should not give a conversazione as well as Doctor Feasible."
"I was just thinking that we could give them much better; our acquaintance now is very numerous."
"And very respectable," replied the lady; "it will make us more known in the world."
"And add to my practice. I'll soon beat Doctor Feasible out of the field!"
The result of this conversation was a conversazione, which certainly was on a much better scale, and better attended than the one collected by Doctor Feasible. Doctor Plausible had pumped a mutual acquaintance as to the merits of his rival, and had set to work with great diligence.
He ordered his carriage, and for two or three days previous to the one fixed, went round to all his friends who had curiosities, foreign, indigenous, or continental, admired them, talked learnedly, expressed a wish to exhibit them to several gentlemen of talent at his next conversazione, pulled out a card for the party, and succeeded in returning home with his carriage stuffed with curiosities and monstrosities.
Negus and cherry-water were added to tea in the refreshment-room; and the conversazione of Doctor Plausible was pronounced by those who had been invited to both, infinitely superior to that of Doctor Feasible. A good-natured friend called upon Doctor and Mrs Feasible with the news. They pretended indifference, as they bit their lips to conceal their vexation. As soon as he took his leave—
"Well, my dear," said Mrs Feasible, "what do you think of this? Very unhandsome on the part of Doctor Plausible! I was told this morning that several of our acquaintances have expressed a wish to be introduced to him."
"We must not give up the point, my love. Doctor Plausible may make a splash once; but I suspect that his horses eat him out of house and home, and interfere very much with the butcher's bills. If so, we who keep no carriage can afford it better. But it's very annoying, as there will be an increase of expense."
"Very annoying, indeed!" replied the lady. "Look at his card, my dear, it is nearly twice as large as ours. I begged it of Mr Tomkins, on purpose to compare it."
"Well, then, my dear, we must order others, and mind that they measure an inch more than his. It shall cost him something before we have done, I'm determined."
"You heard what Mr Smithson said? They gave negus and cherry-water."
"We must do the same. I've a great mind to give ices."
"Oh! my love, remember the expense."
"Very true; but we can ice our negus and cherry-water. Rough ice is only twopence a pound, I believe."
"Well, that will be an improvement."
"And there shall be more, or I'll be in the Bench," replied the doctor, in his wrath.
The next conversazione for which cards were issued by Doctor Feasible, was on a superior scale. There was a considerable increase of company. He had persuaded a country baronet; secured the patronage of two ladies of rank (with a slight blot on their escutcheons), and collected, amongst others, a French count (or adventurer), a baron with mustachios, two German students in their costumes and long hair, and an actress of some reputation. He had also procured the head of a New Zealand chief; some red snow, or rather, red water (for it was melted), brought home by Captain Ross; a piece of granite from the Croker mountains; a kitten in spirits, with two heads and twelve legs; and half-a-dozen abortions of the feathered or creeping tribes. Everything went off well. The two last fees he had received were sacrificed to have the party announced in the Morning Post, and Doctor Feasible's triumph was complete.
