LI E> R. A FLY OF THE U N I VEHS ITY Of ILLINOIS * Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2016 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign Alternates https://archive.org/details/aldermanralphorh12coop ALDERMAN RALPH. / ALDERMAN RALPH; OR, THE HISTORY OF THE BOROUGH AND CORPORATION OF THE BOROUGH OF WILLOWAORE, WITH ALL ABOUT THE BRIDGE AND THE BARONET, THE BRIDGE DEED AND THE GREAT SCHOLAR, THE TOLL-KEEPER AND HIS DAUGHTER, THE FIDDLER AND HIS VIRTUES, THE LAWYER AND HIS ROGUERIES, AND ALL THE REST OF IT. BY ADAM HORNBOOK, STUDENT BY HIS OWN FIRESIDE, AND AMONG HIS NEIGHBOURS WHEN HE CAN SECURE THE ARM-CHAIR IN THE CORNER. VOL. I. LONDON: GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & CO., FARRINGDON STREET. 1853 . M £ CORQUODALE AND CO., PRINTERS, LONDON — WORKS, NEWTON. 8?3 C/7fSa. CONTENTS OF VOX. I. funk tyt /irst. Page In which all the most important Actors in this great History are INTRODUCED— SAVE ONE; AND THE NARRATIVE EXTENDS OVER THREE Days and a Night following . . . . . .1 Chap. I. — The Author’s pattern Chapter — containing, as all First Chapters should contain, a short, clear, and most proper Introduction to the important History which is to follow . . . .3 II. — Wherein the History is begun; and, without paucity of Narrative on the one hand, or superfluity of Record on the other, is carried on to the close of the Second Night . . . .8 III. — Containing matter which an unskilful Peruser may deem Episodical and Fanciful, inasmuch as it chiefly relates to a beautiful Young Woman and her preparations for a Dinner ; but which the cul- tured Reader will know could not have been omitted in a History of this superlative Character . . . . .17 IV. — In which the History is advanced to the end of the Third Night ; and an awful Crisis is reached in the affairs of the Borough of Willowacre . . . . . . ,25 V. — Four new Characters shadowed forth, or dimly placed in Perspective, after a certain process of Picture-logic : the Author’s own inven- tion, and more new and remarkable than the Daguerrotype . 32 VI. — Our new Characters receive the living Touch, and begin to walk out from the dim Perspective into the bold Foreground of our Historic Picture : Shadows no longer, they are introduced, in corporal substance, to the Toll-keeper, and the Toll-keeper to them . . . . . . . .36 VII. — A most respectable Actor in this sublime Epos — our Minstrel — is exhibited in high vocation : he is laid asleep ; and the first Book of this History concludes . . . . . .46 vi CONTENTS. Sunk tji? jfonraL Page Containing the complete, important, and most interesting History of ALL THAT CAME TO PASS IN THE BOROUGH OF WILLOWACRE ON THE Fourth Day . . . . . 53 Chap. I. — The Author invoketh the Muse, being about to treat of high Mat- ters : he inducteth the Willowacre Magnates into their seats ; and the Corporation of the Borough is seen — is heard — is realised, in imposing Conclave . . . . . .55 II. — The Appearance of a strange Visiter in the Guildhall of Willow- acre : his Proposition to the Council ; and the way in which it was received . . . . . . .64 III. — In which the History of the Fourth Day is continued ; the Great Scholar is introduced to the Senior Alderman’s domesticities; and a foul Conspiracy is begun . . . . .69 IV. — An Accident lays bare the soft side of the Senior Alderman’s heart ; Mr. Pevensey witnesses it, and loves him for it : Mr. Edgar and Miss Alice get better acquainted, and Edgar begins to have some particular thoughts . . . . . .77 V. — The Fourth Evening restores us, once more, to the Wheat Sheaf parlour ; and transfers us, next, to Mr. Mayor Nicky’s. Another step in the Conspiracy . . . , . .85 VI. — The Second Book of this History concludes with a very remarkable Chapter, — seeing that it puts some of our chief Characters to bed, details one singular Conversation, and rehearses what might have made a whole Pamphlet of Soliloquies • . . .92 Sunk ijtn ©rtrir. In which is introduced a new Actor, whose thinkings, sayings, and DOINGS, WILL DIVIDE THE INTEREST WITH THE HERO, THROUGHOUT THIS History ......... 101 Chap. I. — A very grave and serious Introduction to the Third Book; but which the Reader can pass over if he be of hasty temperament, since it forms no part of the Thread of our History . .103 II. — The Grand Enemy enters the Borough of Willowacre in person : Worshipful Mr. Nicky’s troubles: the Message of State from the Grand Enemy, and how the Council received it . . .108 III. — The pomp and style of the Deputation, arid their Parley with the Grand Enemy: the declaration of War . . . .115 IV. — The Grand Enemy taketh Counsel with his Prime Minister: under- standeth that he hath not understood his Position : layeth aside War for Stratagem , . . . . .123 CONTENTS. Yll Page Chap. Y. — The legal Man engaged in doubly illegal Business: Peter Weather- wake discovers that there is something in the Wind : the Effects he produced at the Wheat Sheaf . . . . .130 VI. — Gilbert Pevensey’s meeting with an Old Friend : the Friend’s Snare, and how Gilbert falls into it . . . . .139 VII. — Jack Jigg, the fiddler of Meadowbeck, in the characters of Deliverer, and Preacher in his plain Mother-tongue .... 145 2>nnk tfjB /nttrflj. Which is a Book of Wars and Fightings, of Plots and Devices; and in which, while the Wicked seem to prosper, the Virtuous are PLUNGED INTO SORROW AND DISASTER . . . . .157 Chap. I. — Civil War breaks out in the Corporation of Willowacre: eloquence and diplomatic valour of Hugh Plombline: First Victory of the Conspirators : Victory checked by the bold bearing of Alderman Ralph . . . . . . . 159 II. — Gilbert Pevensey begins to pay the price of his Friendship with the Baronet: the Baronet tries to strengthen the Snare . .169 III. — Dingyleaf in the grand Treasure-chamber of Parchments: May Silverton’s first night of Sorrow: Alice and the Baronet, and the dinner at Lovesoup House . . . . .176 IV. — Containing a Recital of the unlooked-for Trouble and undeserved Captivity into which the Plots of his Enemies threw our Honest Minstrel ; and how the Toll-keeper surprised all Parties . .185 V. — Conference between the Baronet and his Prime Minister: the Baronet’s experiment at Lovesoup House, and its Result . 195 VI. — The Baronet, on his own Errand, at Church : his behaviour there ; and the Discoveries he made . . . . .200 VII. — How Lawyer Threap spent the Sunday ; his clever Diplomacy with the Man of Learning ; but sorry Defeat by the Toll-keeper . 204 VIII. — How the Sunday passed with Jack Jigg in prison; and with May and Edgar at Alderman Ralph’s : the Alderman’s serious Reflec- tions are described, and the Fourth Book concludes . ,210 Sank fji? /iftjj. Which rapidly describes the Events of many months; and operates a COMPLETE CHANGE IN THE POSITION OF PARTIES IN THE BOROUGH OF Willowacre, as well as in the fortunes of some of the Chief Actors in this History . . . . . . .216 Chap. I. — Which opens the Fifth Book with some reflections intended for the Reader’s Benefit, and narrates two striking Events: the one sorrowfully important to the Fiddler: the other very astounding and mortifying to the Lawyer . . . . .219 vm CONTENTS. Page Chap. II. — Which will grow increasingly Sweet to the Reader’s taste as he ap- - proaches the End of it . , . . .227 III. — Passes from sweet things to matters of Business ; and brings us, once more, to the Wheat Sheaf parlour . . . .235 IV. — The good People of Willowacre in Public Meeting ; and an Appari- tion at the end of the Chapter . . . . .243 V. — The Apparition becomes an M.P.: curious Conversation of the Baronet and the Lawyer . . . . . .251 YI. — How Threap succeeded in keeping his virtuous Resolutions: Peter Weatherwake eases his mind, by unburthening it to Jerry Dimple: a startling Discovery . . . . .260 VII. — May’s Lover a second time repulsed by Alderman Ralph: the new M.P. becomes a “ Reformer” . . . . .269 VIII. — Melancholy decline of Mr. Ralph’s Health and Spirits, and May’s uneasiness : Second return of Sir Nigel Nickem as Representative for Willowacre . . . . . . .275 $nnk ijji liitlj. In which Jack Jigg is the chief Thinker, Talker, and Actor . . 281 Chap. I. — Our Minstrel being about to commit himself to a questionable course, the Author takes occasion to deprecate the Reader’s judgment against poor Jack: Jack’s selection of a Comrade for his Adventure . , . . . . .283 II. — The Fiddler and the Farmer’s Son commit themselves in a double sense: the Fiddler’s repentance . . . . .292 III. — Jack Jigg continues to repent: his disgust with the Toll-keeper: his interviews with ancient Peter and Jerry Dimple: is set at nought by the maid Betty, and gets a glimpse of the-reason-why from Patty Drudge . , . . . .298 IY. — Our Minstrel’s mortification: his Reconciliation with the Toll- keeper, and Resolve to get manfully through the Business that begins to thicken upon him • . . . .307 BOOK I. 3n mjjirjr all tju mast intpartani Mars in tjjis great listnrg arr intrakrril— sacr d!)nr ; Init tip Harratim rriraits nntr f jtm Sags anir a Kigjit fallmning. roL x. B ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER I. The Author’s pattern Chapter— containing, as all First Chapters should con- tain, a short, clear, and most proper Introduction to the important History which is to follow. The parlour company at the Wheat Sheaf, in the little borough and river-port of Willowacre, was the most agreeable in the world. E^ry member of it seemed not only conscious of his own foibles, but well aware that they were known to all the rest. And so each practised charity towards his companions, in order to secure the exercise of forbearance towards himself. A quarrel never disturbed the cordial good fellowship of that retired little room. Jerry Dimple, the worthy host, declared that one had not occurred there in the memory of living man. The Wheat Sheaf parlour was, in the becoming language of Mr. Pomponius Prate well, the polished town-clerk, “a homely sanctuary of the neighbourly affections, which each of its custom- ary visiters would as soon think of violating, by political ani- mosity or party spleen, as he would of committing sacrilege, or brawling in the church.” A sentiment which was repeated in varied language, and with his own peculiar emphasis, by goodly Italph Trueman, mercer and senior alderman. “ Willowacre, gentlemen,” he w^ould say, with his hands stuck in the pockets of his large waistcoat, and uttering the words in 4 ALDERMAN RALPH. his usual sonorous style — “ Wiliowacre is a borougli which has its politics aud its parties. That cannot be denied. Indeed, gentle- men, it could not be English and a borough, and not have them. But, happily, there is one spot in the borough of Wiliowacre, and that is the Wheat Sheaf parlour, where, on six days of the week, we can meet and forget both politics and parties, as fully — and I say it with reverence — as we can in the parish church, on the seventh.” “ Here, as I always say, neighbours,” would be added by the ancient mariner, but now harbour-master, Peter Weather wake, puffing out the smoke in rolling clouds after he had drawn it into his mouth in a copious volume, by way of signifying the heartiness of his satisfaction ; “ here, in this snug little parlour, we are always in the smooth water of friendship, and moving with a steady current. It is, neighbours, a heart-eomfort to be able to make a part of the voyage of life as pleasantly as we do here ; especially to one who has been in as many storms as I have been in — East, West, North, and South.” The like experience of storms, and how pleasant it was to ex- change them for such a calm, could not be avouched by Diggory Cleave well, the wealthy carcase butcher, or Mark Sift all, the rich miller, or Gervase Poundsmall, the little apothecary, or Hugh Plombline, the clever master builder, or by any other of the neigh- bourly guests of the Wheat Sheaf. But each and all could bear ready testimony to the restorative influences of friendly com- munion in Jerry Dimple’s parlour, on many an evening after a day of brain-toil in business or in bargaining. An observer more widely acquainted with the world than these quiet denizens of Wiliowacre, would have discerned, had he mixed with them, that there was nothing wonderful in their quietude. It was undeniable, as Alderman Trueman sagaciously observed, that the inhabitants had their politics, but these were all of one colour — the “true blue:” the single member for the borough having been always on the side of “ Church, King, and Constitution,” for generations past. Of equal truth was the con- ALDERMAN RALPH. 5 junct observation of goodly Alderman Ralph, that Willowacre had its parties ; but as these were only two, and were composed of a mere individual on the one side, and every other inhabitant of the borough on the other, the dwellers in Willowacre could not make a nearer approach to unanimity without ab- solutely reaching it. Situated on the winding Slowflow, and within ten miles of the German Ocean, the prosperity of Willowacre depended chiefly on its fishing and ship traffic. During the French war its inhabitants increased their wealth ; and for that reason were indisposed to- wards peace. But when peace came, they endeavoured to assure themselves that , it was better than war. The aged and deeply respected vicar of the parish assisted them in coming to this con- clusion : a labour worthy of his sacred profession. Undisturbed by the jar and rivalry of sects, which were unknown in Willowacre, the good parson did not need to dilute his teachings with warnings against heresy; and his expositions of duty were thus rendered more forceful. The venerable parish church, with its tall, graceful spire, pointing heavenward and adorning earth, was a type of him who taught in it; and the pride with which his parishioners showed the structure to visiters, was always mingled with words of affectionate eulogy on the reverend teacher. There was a bridge over the Slowflow, and by the gates of it stood a toll-house, in which dwelt Gregory Markpence, the sole member of that party to which every other inhabitant of the borough of Willowacre was opposed. The reasons of their oppo- sition were simple and compound. Simple, inasmuch as every man, woman, and child, who wished to cross the bridge, must, pay a small coin to Gregory before passing through the gate ; and therefore every man, woman, and child, in Willowacre, was op- posed to the party of Markpence. Gregory’s temper ought also, perhaps, to be classed among the simple reasons of their opposi- tion to him, for it was surly and forbidding, and not a day passed but some passenger over the bridge had to complain of it. 6 ALDERMAN RALPH. The compound reasons, like all compound things, will need to be described with a little more circumlocution. On the side of the river opposite to Willow acre, lay the broad manor of Barleyacre, which adjoined the pleasant village of Meadowbeck, and was the property of Sir Nigel Nickem, a baronet who boasted of Norman ancestry, and dwelt in a distant county. About the period of the Stuart restoration, one of the Nickems — so said the individual party of Markpence — had built the bridge over the Slowflow, and established the right of taking tolls. It was the hereditary opinion, however, of the aldermanic house of Trueman, that there was some juggle in this important transac- tion. A corporate document, goodly Mr. Balph affirmed, as his fathers had affirmed before him, was once in existence, proving, first, that the corporation of the ancient borough of Willowacre, although then too poor to sustain the whole cost of the bridge, had borne three-tenths of it ; secondly, that the family of Nickem Avas not entitled at any time to the sum total of the tollage, but only to seven-tenths of it ; and thirdly, that the right of toll was not established for ever, but only for a given number of years — which term of years he, Mr. Alderman Balph, belie ved had long ago legally expired. Gregory Markpence was thus regarded as the representati ve of an antiquated imposture, and J bhe agent of extortion. Believing fully in the legal right of his patron, he, on the other hand, con- sidered the inhabitants of Willowacre as a crew who would play the part of freebooters, and trample on the Nickem right of tollage if they dare. With this belief, he never thanked any of the people of Willowacre for their coin, even when it was most civilly tendered ; and, if they hesitated, he showed them his teeth and demanded it sternly. A gain, since the traffic over the bridge declined after the war, and he knew that the good vicar had reconciled the parishioners of Willowacre to the peace, he hated the vicar. And because he hated the vicar, he hated the church. And hating, likewise, both people and borough, Gregory hated the old “ true blue,” and ALDERMAN RALPH. 7 the borough member for the time being, let him be who he might. Now, if the gentle reader will put himself to the trouble of imagining how all this bad feeling of an individual had its mul- tiplied counterpart in the minds of the inhabitants of Willowacre, he will comprehend the compound reasons why they were, one and all — man, woman, and child — opposed to the party of Mark- pence, or that of the toll- house. Thus much by way of proem, exordium, or introduction. Not that the half, or the quarter, or the tenth or twentieth part, has been said that might be said, respecting the history, ancient and modern, of the time-honoured borough of Willowacre. Regard- ful of the reader’s time, pleasure, and patience, as the present historian pledges himself to be throughout, he has said just so much, and no more, as may suffice to give clear-headedness at starting, to all who desire to comprehend the important after- chronicle. And now that more particular and actual history shall be begun with a due regard to order and to exactitude of chronology: great desiderata of a true narrative of which, the candid and well-informed reader must own, many eminent his- torians of our day are most culpably neglectful. 8 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER II. Wherein the History is begun; and, without paucity of Narrative on the one hand, or superfluity of Record on the other, is carried on to the close of the Second Night. Into the peaceful parlour of the Wheat Sheaf, about nine of the clock in the evening of the ninth of gloomy November, and in the year of grace one thousand eight hundred and twenty- nine, marched Gregory Markpence. The man had never been in the Wheat Sheaf parlour before; and peace — perfect peace — was never restored there after. It was an event to be remem- bered ; and Jerry Dimple marked the date of it with a thick black mark in his copy of Old Moore’s Almanac. A heavy foreboding fell upon all hearts as the bridge-keeper entered. The pleasurable talk was suspended, Jerry Dimple’s merry laugh was checked in mid-tide, Peter Weatherwake laid down his pipe, and the countenances of all proclaimed that some strange and untoward, and yet more alarming, event was at hand. Gregory’s appearance, even in a place where he was expected, would not have gained him favour. In the place where he now stood, it was an incongruity that rendered him trebly unaccept- able to his fellow-townsmen. Gaunt as a wolf, but strong and tall, large-featured, dark-skinned, his unfriendly eyes gleaming from under their huge thick penthouses of brows, and their forbidding effect heightened by a coarse slouched hat, he was the picture of any thing but good-fellowship. He knew that every one in that parlour thought so. But he looked defiance at their thoughts; and there he stood, wrapped in his shaggy great-coat, and resting on his clumsy knobbed staff, scowling round in silence for full three minutes. ALDERMAN RALPH. 9 “ Ugh! one would think you imagined Be’lzebub had paid you a visit,” he growled at last, and seated himself in the only empty chair. A great deal of a-hemming and coughing followed among the company; but still nobody answered or saluted Gregory Markpence. “ A pint of ale ! ” he thundered, silencing the coughing and a- hemming, arid glaring upon the landlord with a look that roused Jerry’s mettle. “ Speak for it civilly, then,” said Jerry. “ I gave you no foul language,” said Markpence ; “ and I am ready to pay for what I want.” “ It isn’t the valuedom o’ the pay,” retorted the landlord; “ I’d sooner give you the pint for civility, than draw for ye when ye demand it in that hectoring way, even if ye paid ten times the worth of the liquor.” Gregory Markpence fixed both his hands on the knob of his clumsy staff, rested his chin upon his knuckles, and, looking sourly upon Jerry Dimple for half a minute before he again spoke, seemed to be considering how he should say something provoking, and yet say it safely. “ The liquor I would not have as a gift,” he said ; “ for people can’t pay rents and taxes, and live by giving. I couldn’t pay Sir Nigel Nickem his rent, and live, if I permitted you, Jerry Dimple, and the people of Willowacre, to pass over the bridge for nothing. Now, I never refuse to let you pass over the bridge so long as you pay the toll. I dare not. Here is my money for the pint of ale. If you refuse to draw it for me, you. break your license ; and you must take the consequences. Alderman Trueman sits there. He is a magistrate of the borough; and he can tell you that I am in the right.” “ Since you appeal to me, Mr. Markpence,” said the goodly alderman, rising, “ 1 advise our worthy host to draw the liquor you have demanded ; and yet I have to observe, that I am by no means sure, sir, that you have the law on your side. Incivility, 10 ALDERMAN RALPH. sir, is offensive; and the landlord of an inn is not compelled to furnish liquor for offensive people.” “ Sir, I repeat that I have not uttered any foul language,” answered Gregory; “ I simply asked for a pint of ale. And if I have not asked for it in a way to please this polite company,” he added, in a mocking tone, “ pray, let Mr. Town-Clerk, who is called a polite man, show me how I ought to have doffed my hat, and bowed to the ground, while asking for it.” “ Since you now appeal to me, Mr. Markpence,” said Mr. Pomponius Prate well, “ I am sure I need only say, that you know very well no one here expects servility when he advises you to practise civility. It is perfectly true, sir, that you uttered no foul language; but there is a manner — a manner, Mr. Mark- pence — which is often more offensive than uncourteous speech.” “ Ugh!” replied Gregory, and applied himself to the plated tankard Avhich the landlord placed in his hands. Gregory Markpence had not given “ Good health” to the com- pany, had replied to Mr. Pratewell’s suave speech with the note of a swine, and now emptied his pint measure in the most vulgar way, at one draught. The Wheat Sheaf parlour company were, most properly, deeply offended ; and began, one and all, to feel that it was high time to assert their corporate dignity. Glances were exchanged, and wrath was rising; and there is no doubt the storm would have burst on the head of the intruder, had he not suddenly placed the empty vessel on the table, and risen to depart. And depart he did, as unceremoniously as he entered, without word, look, or nod, by w~ay of “ Good-night.” The anger of the company was changed to uneasy wonder. “ Yery strange kind of visit, gentlemen!” said Mr. Alderman Palph. “ Most mysterious!” observed the town-clerk. u What can be the meaning of it ? ” asked Hugh Plombline, the master-builder. “ There’s something in the wind,” said the old harbour-master, shaking his head, and taking up his pipe to fill it anew. ALDERMAN RALPH. 11 “ I wish we could riddle it out,” said Mark Siftall, the miller. “ Or that we had the materials for compounding a judgment,” said G-ervase Poundsmall, the apothecary. “ I should like to get into the marrow of it,” said Diggory Cleave well, the butch er. “ Yes, I wish we could get to the bottom of it,” said the landlord, sipping at his own tankard. There was a long and thoughtful silence. The goodly alder- man broke it. “ Gentlemen,” said he, rising very slowly, and placing his hands in the pockets of his waistcoat, which was always esteemed a sign in the Wheat Sheaf parlour that Mr. Balph had something noteworthy to deliver — “ Gentlemen, I rise to ask our respected friend and fellow-townsman and worthy host, one important question : Has this man, to liis knowledge, ever been in this parlour before to night'?” “ Never,” answered Jerry Dimple, solemnly. u Most strange!” observed the alderman, still more solemnly; and then sat down, and placed his head very thoughtfully in his left hand. “Yery — very — very!” observed each of the company in turn, and each likewise assumed a thoughtful posture. There was very little more conversation that night. Mr. Pomponius Prate well proposed that they should change the subject; Mr. Gervase Poundsmall called for a toast; Peter Weather wake made a few remarks about the wind; the land- lord sagaciously observed that the days were getting shorter and the nights longer; and the butcher signified his clear belief, that it wanted almost seven weeks to Christmas, and that beef would be higher yet. But it was in vain that individual efforts were made to raise a conversation : there was no united effort : the parlour company at the Wheat Sheaf could not regain its happy self-possession; and before eleven o’clock it had broken up, although it was the time-honoured custom of that hearty group 12 ALDERMAN RALPH. of neighbours not to separate till they heard the chimes play “ The old woman a-quaking,” at midnight. It was when Jerry Dimple was left alone, and sat ruefully pondering on what had occurred, that he opened his copy of the almanac, looked knowingly at the hieroglyphics and crooked marks in it, weighed the meaning of what he could not under- stand therein, and then scored a thick black mark under the date of that night, with the serious belief that something unlucky would come out of the visit of Gregory Markpence to the Wheat Sheaf parlour. Mr. Alderman Ralph was received at home by his lovely niece, Miss May Silverton, the only child of his only sister, and over whom he yearned with parental fondness, being himself childless, and having been for years a widower. He hastened to tell her the mysterious news of what had transpired at the Wheat Sheaf. She repeated “ Very strange!” after himself; not because she thought the news so very strange, but because she was thinking of something more strange in her estimation, and was remem- bering that she must tell it to her uncle ; and yet felt, she knew not why, a difficulty such as she never felt before in telling any thing to her uncle. Sweet May felt a foolish flutter at her heart, and feared she could not begin ; but she had woman’s wit enough to perceive that the alderman’s absorption in the Mark- pence mystery was most opportune, and took the advantage of it. “ A very strange visit, truly ! ” ruminated Mr. Ralph, with his eyes fixed on the fire. “ Very strange !” echoed May, jingling the dishes on the supper- table, — “the young gentleman has been here again to-night, uncle ; he who called on you the other day.” “ Very ! — Who, my dear V 9 “ The gentleman who has lately come to live in the borough. Mr. — Mr. — what is his name'?” and May turned to reach some- thing from the sideboard which was not wanted on the supper- table : “ Mr. — bless me ! — the gentleman who has taken the large house that old Alderman Lovesoup used to live in.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 13 “ Mr. Gilbert Pevensey, my dear. W ell, what of him ? — strange ! very strange!” “ Oh ! he only called to pay his respects to you, uncle, and ” — “ He is a very worthy young gentleman. Most strange, indeed ! ” i( And he begged very politely, uncle, that I would say he would call again.” “ I shall be very happy to see him, my dear.” “ I told him I knew that you would, uncle,” rejoined May, with such a gush of happiness at her heart that she slightly won- dered why she felt so. And now May bent her mind seriously to comprehend the subject of her uncle’s wonder. May still could not perceive that there was any thing very wonderful in it. But she did not say so : her uncle had spoken so kindly about Mr. Pevensey. There was no lack of wonderers elsewhere, however. All over the borough of Willowacre it was buzzed about, the next day, that the savage toll-keeper had intruded himself into the Wheat Sheaf parlour. “ What can be the meaning of it?” every body asked every body else; but nobody could, for the life of them, imagine an answer. “ Have you heard of it, neighbour? Hid you ever hear of any thing like it before? What does it mean? What did the 'fellow go there for?” every body demanded. And if an uniniti- ated stranger had replied, in his simplicity, “ I suppose, to get a pint of ale” — every body would have laughed at his folly and ignorance. Such a shallow reply would not, indeed, have been listened to by any of the people of Willowacre, if it had been made. The circumstance was unparalleled in the history of the old town. The Wheat Sheaf parlour, though the Willowacre people discouraged pride, had ever been esteemed as a meeting- place set apart for the real respectability of the borough. There were the Bed Lion, and the Black Swan, and the White Horse, and the Blue Pig, and the Ship, and the Plough, and the Lord Helson, 14 ALDERMAN RALPH. and the Marquis of Granby, all very creditable houses, where any creditable people could resort ; and the Magpie, and the Sal- mon and Lobster, and the Barley Mow, and the Man in the Moon, and the headless “ Silent Woman,” and the “ Three Loggerheads ” — two jolter-heads on the sign, but the spectator was also reckoned one, according to the old joke, — all of which had a good name, but it was among humbler sort of folk. Had the toll- keeper visited any of these, nobody would have wondered. But that he had dared to obtrude himself into the Wheat Sheaf— a man like him! It meant something! They had their thoughts about it. Gregory Markpence, meanwhile, had also his thoughts. He did not like his reception at the Wheat Sheaf. He growled in his sleep while dreaming about it ; and when he awoke he began to form schemes of revenge for what he regarded as bad treat- ment. His wife and his daughter Margery had much to bear — much more than usual — with his temper that day ; and the pas- sengers over the bridge, whether coming from Willpwacre or going to it, felt the edge of his moroseness. He formed no com- plete or connected plan of vengeance that day ; but he fixed on a first step — that he would renew his visit to the Wheat Sheaf parlour that very night. His second appearance there was by no means expected. The little company had dismissed him from their thoughts after an hours review of the manner of his visit. They still agreed that it was strange — very strange — and meant something; of that they had no doubt; but what it did mean they could not tell. “ And so let it go,” said Mr. Alderman Balph; “ let me tell you, however, neighbours, that this unmannerly and mysterious visit from one whom we did not invite, and should never have thought of inviting, reminds me that there is one gentleman lately settled among us whom we ought to invite, and whom we ought before now to have thought of inviting, to join us in these happy meetings.” “ Unless I am out in my conjecture,” observed the town-clerk, ALDERMAN RALPH. 15 f‘ the worthy alderman has a gentleman in his eye whose polite- ness would he an ornament to the Wheat Sheaf parlour.” “ And whose extensive connection with our shipping interest entitles him to our respect,” added the ancient harbour-master. “ Not omitting his handsome and most proper patronage of the trading interest of the borough;” quickly added the little apothecary. A gentleman who pays his bills weekly, whether great or small, with the utmost punctuality,” cried the miller and butcher in a breath. “ And whose house knows no stint of hospitality, to either gentle or simple,” said the host. “ But whose domestic establishment is, nevertheless, com- pletely under compass and square,” added the master-builder. “ I see I am understood,” resumed the alderman ; “ I need scarcely say that I mean Mr. Gilbert Pevensey.” Jingling of glasses, drumming upon the table, and “ Hear, hear, hear,” from all the company, continued full one minute, and might have continued two — but Gregory Markpence agtfin appeared; and all was profound silence! There stood the toll-keeper, staff in hand, great- coated, slouch- hatted, and looking as unpleasant and defiant as before. And there sat the company as silent as when he first appeared; and not only so, but resolving to keep silence. “ A pint of ale!” re-demanded Gregory; and Jerry Dimple quickly filled it, but received Gregory’s pence without uttering one word. There happened to be no vacant chair in the room when the toll-keeper entered this time, and no one stood up to accommodate him. Mr. Pratewell was moving to do so, but Alderman Trueman stayed him by a slight pressure on the knee. Gregory observed this, and his anger rose till he almost thought it would choke him. Pie glared round; but nobody’s eyes met his : the company looked on the floor. Gregory coughed, but nobody else did. He would have given a shilling, he vowed in his heart, if any one would have just given him one word — 16 ALDERMAN RALPH. straight or crooked — so that he might have hung a quarrel upon it. Gregory’s courage began to fail. He looked at the tankard in his hand, glared round once more on the company, could bear their stony indifference no longer, buried his nose in the tankard, emptied it at a draught as before, and then set it down noisily on the table. “ Once — twice — beware the third time ! ” he said, trembling with passion; and quitted the Wheat Sheaf parlour instantly. This was not to be borne : every member of the company declared it was not. They would protect themselves, they would protect the landlord, they would protect that dear old Wheat Sheaf parlour. But how? That was the question. What could they do legally? What could they do morally? What had they a right to do? They discussed the whole question. The discussion was long. The hour of midnight pealed, and the chimes rang out “The old woman a-quaking” as mellowly as for one hundred years past, and half a hundred more; but still the discussion went on, and went on, till another hour had fled. Finally, it was most discreetly determined that the company would protect themselves, and the landlord, and the parlour — by doing nothing, as they had done this night. The strange visiter had said, “ Beware the third time !” and they were deter- mined to receive him in silence when he came again, and observe what he would dare to do. A nd on that determination they broke up. ALDERMAN RALPH. 17 CHAPTER III. Containing matter which an unskilful Peruser may deem Episodical and Fanci- ful, inasmuch as it chiefly relates to a beautiful Young Woman and her preparations for a Dinner; but which the cultured Header will know could not have been omitted in a History of this superlative Character. May Silyerton was her uncle’s pride. He left her no room to doubt it. May was but eighteen, and yet was uncontrolled house- keeper and manageress of the goodly alderman’s domestic estab- lishment. She provided according to her own will and choice for his table; and there May could never err, in his estimation, so long as she provided plentifully. Mr. Ralph had no objection to be asked how many were to be expected at dinner, and who ; but he would not choose dishes. May knew his tastes; and he was sure she could make as good a guess at other people’s as he could. And as to cookery, May always suited him; and it would be very odd, he thought, if she did not suit others as well; for, he imagined, he was as good a judge of a dish as here and there one. He believed that all his fellow-townsmen of Willowacre gave him credit for that. And he was right. So they did. How was it, then, that sweet May was up an hour before her uncle, on the morning succeeding the second strange visit of Gre- gory Markpence to the Wheat Sheaf parlour, and was so anxiously considering how her uncle’s table should be furnished that day ? There she sits, on the window-seat of the fine old-fashioned din- ing-room, deeply revolving the contents of a book which she holds in her beautiful little hands ; beautiful, but there is flesh and blood about them: they are not pale and meagre, as if they VOL. i. c 18 ALDERMAN RALPH. had been perpetually shrouded from light and air in a pair of gloves. Is the volume Poetry? A young poet — a young gentleman, at least, who claimed to be considered a poet, had, now and then, seen May thus employed; and he said the volume ought to be poetry. So he said in a copy of verses which May had never seen; and which we shall translate into prose, as closely as we can, in order that the grave, unadorned, and unepitheted style of this history may preserve its classic uniformity. “ So you would think,” said this aspiring writer, " if you could have beheld the bright raven tresses cluster around her neck, so exquisitely fair ; and, if not too deeply fascinated with that most lovable mouth, and full, but delicately formed chin, with which the slightly aquiline nose seems to consort so symmetrically, — you had contrasted the rich ripening vermeil of her cheek with the pure white of her forehead, — and, above all, had watched those long silken lashes till they were raised, and unveiled the alternate radiant brightness, languishing softness, and deep feel- ing, of her peerless dark eyes. Sitting there, unadorned save with the jewels of her own simple innocence and loveliness, truly you must have declared that the volume which sweet May held in her beautiful hands, and contemplated so studiously, should have been the ‘ Faery Queen,’ or ‘ Comus,’ or ‘ Endymion’ with the ‘Eve of St. Agnes’ — should it not?” “ Yes” — I answer for the reader; and I also pronounce the description of May’s beauty to be very prettily written, although it is not so good a description as her beauty deserved. Yes, yes — dear young poet — the volume ought to have been poetry. But it was only a cookery book. Eie upon it ! this is a gross world that lives so much by eating, and so often cements its friendships by the same bestial process ! And so, though May would have preferred poetry, for she loved ifc, she must study the cookery book. And thus May earnestly soliloquises : — “ Well, now, I have fixed on three. There is boiled duck ALDERMAN RALPH. 19 smothered in onions, which uncle loves so dearly. But I must take care that Betty boils the onions twice, this time. She slipped me before, I’m sure she did. And I must look sharper after her. And then there’s the pheasant which has been in milk all night. I wonder whether Mr. Pevensey cares about pheasant 1 ? The dish of roast larks, I hope, will please Miss Pevensey. But I wonder what her brother likes'? That is the material point; for, of course, his sister will like what he likes. At least, I should think so. I never care, for my part, what there is on the table, so long as it pleases my uncle ; and I should think Miss Pevensey feels just the same with regard to her brother. At least, I know I should if I were ” Sweet May! why is it that she suddenly forgets the cookery book, fixes her eyes on vacancy so pensively, and heaves that sigh? Never mind it ! She recalls herself — “ What nonsense ! I must go on. I think I need not add any thing to the third course. Uncle always will have the birds put on the table with the joints; and we shall look so crowded if I add plain fowls. I did settle, in my mind, about the soups. I wonder whether Mr. Pevensey will admire that vegetable soup as much as my uncle does? Shall I put in a little of the pow- dered marigold flowers? My uncle will miss it, if I don’t. And yet it is so old-fashioned, that perhaps Miss Pevensey will wonder at it. What shall I do? Well, I will put in a little — only a little — and try to observe whether Mr. Pevensey remarks the flavour — or what he replies to my uncle ; for uncle is sure to talk about it. And if Mr. Pevensey does like the marigold flavour, and says so, why, Miss Pevensey cannot — but never mind that ! Well, at any rate, since they have been so much in France and Italy, they will not decline the vermicelli, if they don’t like the vege- table soup ; and so I will not be uneasy any longer about that. As for the fish course, we are always tolerably well provided with that article in Willowacre. We shall have the best that is in season ; and so that will be all right “ Well now, I should think one rich and one plain pudding 20 ALDERMAN RALPH. will be sufficient. Indeed, there will hardly be time for cooking more, unless I send for the clever old cook from the Wheat Sheaf. I think I will ; for I feel sure Betty will not be able to get through without her. Indeed, Betty is too hard-worked, at times ; and that is why she slips over things. I don’t believe she would do so if it were not for that; for she is a good, kind creature, and never complains, poor thing ! “ Yes : two puddings. Yet there might be an Ipswich. I wonder whether Miss Pevensey knows that receipt ! But, dear me ! perhaps she knows nothing about cookery at all, since they have led such a genteel life until lately. I shall soon learn whether she does, however. I think I’ll fix on an Ipswich. But, very likely, Mr. Pevensey cares nothing about puddings — - and I made plenty of tarts yesterday — that was so lucky ! — and I am sure the apple- tarts are very nicely quinced. By the bye, I must send at once to secure some of those fine grapes, with a pine, and a few of the peaches and nectarines, that I saw in the fruiterers shop- window yesterday. Almonds and muscadels I have in plenty; and nothing, in any part of England, can be finer than our own apples, the golden rennets — but, perhaps, Mr. Pevensey cares nothing about English fruit, having been so much abroad” What! dreaming again, May? Sighing again, and the eye upraised in this new kind of devotion? No chiding! Sweet May chides herself — “ Oh dear! oh dear — how vexed I am with myself! What silly thoughts ! And I know that I must go on — and there is uncle ringing, too! What shall I do? Well, but — let me see! — why, I think 1 have finished. Yes — yes — yes! I am sure I have. And now then for action ! ” And up sprang May Silverton, and skipped lightly — and with such sweet and unaffected grace — round the parlour, three or four times, just to assure herself that she must and would get through the day bravely ; and then away she tripped into the kitchen to Betty — gave the maiden a few directions for a ALDERMAN RALPH. 21 beginning — and then tripped back to the parlour, and was busy in preparing coffee, knowing that her uncle would be down-stairs in a few minutes. He is in the parlour, clasps sweet May to his broad waistcoat, beneath which the heart beats so warmly for her, kisses her fondly, holds off to look once more at her beautiful face, and then kisses her more fondly, declares she is a sweet Mayflower that blooms all the year long, and then sits down to his coffee, into which she puts such lots of sugar 1 O the goodly alderman, he did like things so sweet ! But she has tinkled the little silver hand-bell, and who is this slender and somewhat tall young man who enters the parlour, with his pale, but really handsome face, and high intellectual forehead? It is only the alderman’s apprentice in the mercery business, young Edgar Tichborne. But he, invariably, sits at the alderman’s table with May and her uncle, while the manager and the three other young men wait their turn. Mr. Edgar is the son and heir of the alderman’s early friend ; and it was understood, when he entered on his apprenticeship, that he should be “ received as one of the family” — a newspaper phrase which is often a mere bait for shabby treatment; but Alderman Balph scorned angling with such false flies for gain. The young man is treated “ as one of the family.” “ Good-morning to you, my dear bov,” says May’s uncle, with the hot roll in his mouth, and shaking hands across the table. “ Good-morning, Edgar,” says May herself ; and imitates her uncle — not in the matter of the buttered roll, but in shaking hands. “ Good-morning, sir! good-morning, Miss May!” says the young man; and when he has thanked May, with a peculiar and tender politeness, for handing him the cup of coffee, and she looks towards her uncle, and addresses herself to the task of try- ing to elicit the alderman’s opinions about her choice for the dinner, Edgar’s eyes speak volumes to an eye-reader. And yet May has never read them ! 22 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ I hope the dinner will please you, uncle,” begins May Silver- ton, “ I think of” “ My dear child, it is sure to please me; and therefore I should think it will be sure to please Mr. and Miss Pevensev.” A non sequitur? Not quite so clear. Remember, it was an alderman — it was Ralph Trueman, the senior alderman of the ancient borough of Willowacre, that said this. And, therefore, May should scarcely have disputed it. “ My dear uncle, I — I — don’t exactly know that. People say they have been so much abroad” “ Then take it for granted, my love, that they will be pleased with a sensible English dinner. You know I never was but once at Paris; and I never wish to go again. I should soon have been starved to death on their kickshaws ! ” “ Well, uncle, I have done my best, I am sure; and so I hope they will be pleased. There will be your very favourite dish — boiled duck, smothered in” “ Don’t — don’t — my dear!” interrupted the alderman depre- cating! y, and wiping his mouth at the ideal flavour, although it was already being regaled with the rich aroma of good coffee ; “ you know I always leave it to you, my sweet darling ; and I am sure it will be all right. Edgar, my dear boy, you took my best compliments to Mr. and Miss Pevensey last night, and desired their company to day at dinner'?” “ 0 yes, sir ! ” answer Edgar Tichborne ; “ and I told Miss May last night, that they agreed to come.” “ I told you so, when you came home, from the Wheat Sheaf, uncle,” said May. “No doubt you did, child; but I was so vexed about that impudent toll-keeper that I did not hear you. However, I am glad that Mr. and Miss Pevensey agreed to come.” “ Did you see Miss Pevensey, Edgar?” asked May; “ I suppose she is younger than her brother.” “ I did. No doubt she is,” answered Edgar. ALDERMAN RALPH. 23 “ I wonder what sort of person she is. Is she tall ? ” asked May, again. “ My dear child, you’ll soon see her,” observed the alderman ; “ don’t fidget yourself about seeing people for the first time. I’ll warrant you, she will be agreeable in her manners. You found her brother to be very agreeable, if I remember you aright.” Dear May ! how her heart jumped, and how she crimsoned, as she let the coffee-cup slip from her fingers ! “ Never mind, child ! nothing amiss !” cried the worthy aider- man, laughing. Edgar Tichborne was not quite so sure of that. May never read his eyes ; nor was Alderman Kalpli intent on reading May’s ; but Edgar had seen — or imagined he had seen — some particular lights in them for two or three days past. May did not look either at Edgar or her uncle. She only looked at the breakfast table, and tried to laugh with Alderman Ralph, though she was not, in Edgar’s thinking, very successful. “ Miss Pevensey is rather tall, but not very,” observed Edgar, when the trial at laughter had subsided. He meant to say that Miss Pevensey was taller than May, but he was somewhat con- fused ; and he forgot to say whether Miss Pevensey was agreeable, or otherwise he could not say any thing about it — to May. “ Never mind, never mind ! ” cried the alderman again ; “ we shall see what the young lady is, when she comes. All that I am bothered about is this impudent trick of Markpence, the bridge toll-keeper. Do you learn what is thought of it in the town, Edgar?” “ Thought of it, sir ! the whole town is in the utmost excite- ment about it: how should it be otherwise?” said Edgar, with the true spirit of a native of Willowacre: “it is my opinion the fellow will be mobbed, if he dares this impudent trick again. We have heard in the shop, this morning, that he threatens to intrude upon you again to-night. Is that true, sir?” 24 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ It is indeed, Edgar,” answered Mr. Balph, emphatically. “ Then I think he will repent it,” observed Edgar ; “ I don’t think the people of Willowacre will bear it, sir. I really believe he will be mobbed if he attempts it. ” “Serve him right!” said the alderman, warmly; “not that I wish the foolish man any harm ; but really this conduct of his becomes intolerable when it is repeated, and he threatens to repeat it again. I must go into the town, and learn what people are thinking and saying about it.” And, concluding his break- fast more hastily than he usually did, away the alderman went. ALDERMAN RALPH. 25 CHAPTER IV. In which the History is advanced to the end of the Third Night ; and an awful Crisis is reached in the affairs of the Borough of Willowacre. As, when an earthquake is at hand, the air is thick and stifling; dense clouds obscure the cerulean, and the sun’s light is hid ; cheerful flowers droop their heads, and the dusky hen- bane alone seems to flourish ; singing-birds are mute, and only the hooting of the owl is heard, from his covert in the matted ivy on the old castle wall or the mouldering turret ; — in a word, as when some great world-catastrophe impends over mortals, all nature gives gloomy forebodings — so did the men of Willowacre crowd together and mutter their dread conviction, in the public street, that something awful would come out of the toll-keeper’s rash visits to the Wheat Sheaf parlour ! The mayor for the year was the junior alderman, Nicholas Backstitch, the little snipper-snapper master tailor — “ Little Nicky,” as he had always been called. He was in a very nervous condition, and excitedly directed the serious attention of the senior alderman to the fact, that there were groups of six or eight, at the corner of this street, and the corner of that, and all the talk there was against the party of Markpence; and he really feared something very serious would come out of it. “ I really wish, Mr. Trueman, that it had been your year of office instead of mine, for I feel alarmed/’ said the little mayor Nicky. And truly, when you looked at the grand burly appearance of Alderman Ralph — at his noble English face, and at the magnifi- cent bulk covered by his waistcoat — and compared him with the 26 ALDERMAN RALPH. tiny, lean tailor, whose face would not have been so bad had not his nose been so short and his chin so long — you could not help thinking that Mr. Ralph seemed more naturally fashioned for supreme magistracy than Mr. Nicholas. But there was no thought of such a nature in the generous and friendly mind of Mr. Ralph. “ Pooh, pooh ! Mr. Mayor,” he answered, — and the little man drew himself up to look as tall as he could, at the words “ Mr. Mayor” — uttered, too, by the senior alderman, — “ Pooh, pooh ! Mr. Mayor ! think nothing of it. There is no need for alarm — at least for your being alarmed. It is this impudent toll-keeper who is likely to come off with the worst. But it will only serve him right.” “ Just so : very right,” granted the mayor ; “ but you see, if the peace should be broken” — “ It will not be broken unless he breaks it ; and then let him take the consequence. We shall not break the peace at the Wheat Sheaf, although he has threatened to intrude upon us again.” “ So I am informed,” interrupted little Nicky ; “ I am astonished at the fellow’s impudence. Can you comprehend what he means'? It looks very strange.” “Very,” repeated Mr. Ralph; “but, for the very life of us, none of us can understand it.” “ Yet he must have some meaning in it, you know. What does the town-clerk think 1 ?” “ He does not know what to think, any more than the rest of us.” “Indeed!” exclaimed the mayor. And the two magnates looked in silence on the floor — in solemn silence! The little mayor was comforted by the senior alderman’s assurance, that he need not be alarmed, and the magnates parted. Conversations, eight or ten, which Mr. Ralph had with others, need not be detailed. Suffice it to say, that none of them contained expres- sions of fear, like that with Mayor Nicky ; but all unfolded much higher excitement. But it is three of the afternoon, Mr. Alder- ALDERMAN RALPH. 27 man Trueman is somewhat old-fashioned, and hurries home to dinner. Dear May ! she might have set her heart at rest about the dinner. Mr. and Miss Pevensey praised every part of it ; and Mr. Pevensey was so delighted with the marigold flavour of the soup, and was so charmed with the Ipswich pudding ! And how thankful May felt to And that Alice Pevensey was a good, sen- sible, English girl, just about her own age, and not at all spoilt by foreign manners. What a happy little dinner party it was, May thought, and so did her uncle, and so did Mr. Gilbert Pevensey. Miss Pevensey was almost of the same mind — except, now and then, when she was reading the eyes of Mr. Edgar Tichborne — for she could read them, although May could not. Edgar had never felt so unhappy at that dinner-table, and in that stately old dining-room, before. He was really glad when the dinner was over, and he was once more at his post behind the mercer’s counter. May and Alice retire — almost before May wishes to do so — and very much against Mr. Pevensey’s wish. May and Alice have sworn sisterhood, in their young hearts, before they have been an hour by themselves — but that must be passed over for the present : the goodly alderman is making a very important proposition to Mr. Gilbert Pevensey, and we must listen to it. He is conveying to his guest, in the most impressive manner, the desire of his friends, that the respected young gentleman should become one of the neighbourly party who meet in the Wheat Sheaf parlour. The respected young gentleman listens, and watches for some loophole to escape from the invitation without hurting Mr. Ralphs feelings — for he does not intend to quit the alderman’s house until a late hour, now he learns that the worthy alderman intends to quit it at an early one. Ah, there it is ! Mr. Ralph has mentioned the threat of the toll-keeper, and Mr. Gilbert, gently — very gently — suggests that, perhaps, he had better not go to the Wheat Sheaf to-night : better, perhaps, defer the intro- duction till this rude man’s visits are put a stop to, by one means 28 ALDERMAN" RALPH. or other. The alderman — good, hearty, unsuspecting old buck ! — thinks that so proper and so reasonable, that he acquiesces at once. “But you will come when this fellow’s nonsense is over?” entreats the alderman. “ With the greatest pleasure,” was the instant and sincere reply of Gilbert Pevensey; “but, my dear sir, you must only expect me to be an occasional visiter at the Wheat Sheaf. You know there is business, and that often takes me from home. And then, you know, I cannot leave my sister every evening in loneliness.” “ Let her come and sit with May,” was the interruption of hearty Mr. Ralph, who was repeatedly pushing the bottle, and thinking less of ceremonies. Mr. Gilbert had no objection that his beloved sister should often come and sit with May; but he knew another person who would like to be with May — perhaps when his sister was not with her. So he very politely observed that he was sure his sister “ would be very happy,” and continued : “ And then again, my dear sir, I drink little — very little. So that I should not be very welcome to the landlord. And, to say the truth, I am a little bookish. I devote some little time to reading ; and I do not like to break the habit.” “ Ah ! that’s something like my dear May,” observed Mr. Ralph, and Gilbert was pleased to hear that ; “ and like our young man, Edgar Tichborne” — but Gilbert did not like to hear that. “ You’ll look in upon us, sometimes, however,” concluded the alderman. Mr. Pevensey said he would. They were soon summoned to tea, much to Mr. Pevensey ’s joy — though the alderman wondered they were called so soon. The conversation became very lively. Ifc was seven o’clock before the alderman thought it was six. He thanked Mr. Pevensey for reminding him that it was seven, and hastened to the Wheat Sheaf. We must attend him there, and leave the brother and the two new sisters to their happy evening. So happy ! May thought it was. ALDERMAN RALPH. 29 Take care, sweet May ! What will you think about such even- ings when a few weeks are gone? Mr. Alderman Ralph went into the Wheat Sheaf inn. He thought there seemed to be a good many people in the street, but was not alarmed, like the little Mayor Nicky. Some time after Gregory Markpence also entered the Wheat Sheaf, advanced into the parlour, and was received as on the preceding night. He did not like the appearance of so many people being gathered about the door of the inn when he entered; and now, when he stood with the tankard in his hand, and heard the swell of voices outside, and beheld the displeased countenances of the silent personages within, his courage utterly failed him again. He entirely forgot his purpose — if he had formed one — and away he darted out of the Wheat Sheaf parlour, without saying one word ! He no sooner reappeared in the street than the increased crowd hooted him, and began to close upon him. He grasped his clumsy knobbed staff, swung it round his head, and cried out 16 Give back !” — and so the crowd did. As he strode on, however, the hooting increased, and stones began to be showered upon him. Gregory, now, did not hesitate a moment. He took to his heels, and speedily outstripped the multitude ; reached the toll-house, and bolted and barred himself in. The storm soon swelled at his door ; and some tried to force it, but ceased when they heard the screams of Gregory’s wife and daughter. Others, with united strength, tore away the gate of the bridge, and then all, with loud shouts, rushed upon it. In an hour, they had hurled down the parapet on both sides, and not an inch of stone-work was left to protect a night-traveller. The wonder was, that none of that wild and excited crowd lost their lives by tumbling into the stream. The madness subsided, and the crowd began to return home- wards. A few had recommenced their kicks and blows at Gre- gory’s door. But he warned them that he had now loaded his two double-barrelled guns; and declared that he would, in de- fence of his own life and the lives of his wife and daughter, 30 ALDERMAN RALPH. shoot any that first broke into his house, whether it were man, woman, or boy. That was enough! Every man, woman, and boy retreated; and soon the air around the toll-keeper’s door was as still as death. A silent quarter of an hour of reflection, and the toll-keeper walks forth, as a general might do when the baffled enemy have retreated from his stronghold, after destroying his outworks. He goes forth to survey the wreck of his ramparts, and to ascer- tain the extent of the dire deed which the enemy have done. Gregory was assisted in his survey by a large horn lantern. And now as he steps anxiously on, viewing the broken pillarets, fragments of coping, and other relics of the siege — but looks in vain for a single atom of the hated toll-gate — the imaginative reader will be expecting to hear him break out into tragic soli- loquy, on the danger of trifling with the mighty people, so terrific when its energy is roused, and yet so long-enduring and forbear- ing under oppression and contumely, robbery and insolence and wrong. Did he so break forth? Gregory laughed. Ye gods! he laughed. What a savage heart that man must have had to laugh, under such awful circumstances ! He who felt that the lives of himself, his wife, and daughter, were in the deepest danger but a few minutes before. Gregory Markpence laughed, and rubbed his hands, and cried — “ Fine fun ! but they’ll have to pay for it ! ” And then the salvage toll-keeper re-entered the toll-house, sat down to his supper of cold boiled beef, and hastily devoured it, — smiling grimly the while, and often repeating that singular soliloquy, and rubbing his hands, in spite of his haste. Soon he arose, bade his wife and daughter watch, and not forget the guns, and then sallied forth, staff in hand, just after the midnight hour, saying — “ How for Meadowbeck!” And thither — deeply revolving things in his dark mind — he is going. But, as our traveller has three miles to walk across the manor of Barleyacre before he can arrive at the village ALDERMAN RALPH. 31 lie has named, we may as well take our advantage of going thither before him — our electric advantage, which enables us to be there in a second — to make mention of certain person- ages who dwell at Meadowbeck, and who are of high importance in our story. 32 ALDERMAIT RALPH. CHAPTER Y. Four new Characters shadowed forth, or dimly placed in Perspective, after a certain process of Picture-logic: the Author’s own invention, and more new and remarkable than the Daguerrotype. Aquinas Buonaventura Petrus-Lombardus Duns-Scotus Dingy- leaf was — to use bis own significant definition of himself — “ a most shamefully neglected and deeply injured scholar, and a gentleman.” He was by no means poor : he was even moderately rich. He knew that there were many poor people in the world, and that they were much worse off in it than himself: he knew this, but it was a kind of knowledge that he did not value : it was not worth a brass button to him. If people were poor, that was their own concern : it was not his. He had a concern for himself. Society, he used indignantly to declare, had done nothing for him, — although he could read eight languages critically, was versed in all the varied readings of the principal Latin and Greek writers, and knew exactly on what page of his pocket Elzevirs any given line of the chief classic poets was to be found. He had had the inestimable advantage of classic instruction almost from his cradle, by his father, who was also a ponderous and unrewarded scholar, and who gave his son the names of his four favourite Schoolmen, — the Angelical, the Seraphical, and the Subtle Doctors, and the Master of the Sentences, — as a memorable token of his erudite taste and enthusiasm. He had had the ablest teachers of the dead languages that his father could discover, in after life; and all this laborious culture had been ripened and perfected by his own self-denying and sedulous application in manhood. And yet Society had done nothing for him ! ALDERMAN RALPH. 33 But what had he done for society? Or, what had he forced or beguiled society into believing that he had done for it? To these shallow questions the profound and neglected scholar would have replied in his heart — for he could not readily have mustered plain vulgar English enough to give you the answer extemporarily — that the existence of its real great men ought to be perceived by society instinctively, and their merit acknow- ledged substantially, without true greatness being expected to derogate from itself by suing for such acknowledgment, or giving primary proof of the existence of merit ; and that, to force society to believe that one has done something for it, is to play the paid of a tyrant — while to beguile it into such belief is to become a charlatan and trickster : characters each utterly foreign from that of the true great man and consciously profound scholar. No! from the very nature of the case he could not do otherwise than he did : society did nothing for him, and therefore he could do nothing for society. This was the brief but grand philosophy of the great, the learned, and the shamefully neglected and deeply injured “ Dingy- leaf of the four pronomina,” or “ D. of the four Ps.” — the style in which he used curtly to describe himself in this his mature age, when he had learned, he said, truly to interpret the text, “ cast not pearls before swine ; ” and so ceased to spell out in ink at the end of a letter the names, which he bore by baptism, of those four immortal intelligences whom a vile and degraded world had cast to oblivion. Davy Drudge was born in the village where the great scholar of the four pronomina, and his large library, flourished in indig- nant silence. Davy, from a child, had always feared to look at the scholar, and above all at his books, when he passed by the long library window, and caught a glance at that legion of frown- ing folios on the shelves. It was not that Davy had been told that the scholar dealt with the devil, and that his books taught witchcraft or the black art. The simple lad was possessed, some- how or other, with an idea, that the most desirable thing in the VOL. I. r> " 34 ALDERMAN RALPH. world was happiness. And as lie felt that no one can be happy who is proud, angry, and discontented, he did not like to meet the indignant scholar, nor to look upon the awful books which, all the lowly villagers declared, had caused Dingyleaf to be as unhappy as his father, the elder Dingyleaf, had been, before him. Davy Drudge was happy without knowing a single letter of the alphabet, unless it was “ round O,” and feared that book- knowledge might make him as unhappy as Dingyleaf, if he were to be foolish enough to hanker after it. And yet the simple lad was not so foolish as to think that happiness was only to be found in ignorance. The poor little fellow was a far better philosopher than Dingyleaf of the four pronomina, without know- ing it. His earnest loving heart never complained that society had done nothing for him. It only throbbed, daily and hourly, that he might do more for society — that is to say, for his father and mother; for farmer Jipps, who cultivated one hundred acres; for old Will Thompson the blind pauper; for Parson Perry wig the rector ; or aged Nanny Brown the widow, who was crooked, and hirpled on two sticks ; or, in a word, for every body. Davy had judgment enough to discriminate where service was most needed, and preferred to render it there; but he did not like to lose the pleasure he always felt in rendering help any where. Thus little Davy was the darling of his father and mother without being their pet — for their daily labour left them no leisure for spoiling him ; he was always called a “ brave lad ” by farmer Jipps, and a “ dutiful child ” by Parson Perry wig, because he would run forward with all his might to open the gates in the lanes, whenever he was overtaken or approached by either of these dignitaries on horseback ; while old blind Will Thompson avowed Davy was a second eyesight to him; and aged Nanny Brown blessed the lad, who was as kind and helpful to her as if he were her own. Lawyer Threap was a much more exalted personage in the village of Meadowbeck than little Davy Drudge. But he comes third in our sketch, in order that we may preserve the thread of ALDERMAN RALPH. 35 our logic — a science which lies at the very root, and in the very kernel, of story-telling, if writers did but know it ! Threap had forced society — that is to say, farmer Jipps, and parson Perry- wig, and the inhabitants of Meadowbeck generally — to believe that he had done something for it. He had compelled people to call him a gentleman, and to own that he deserved the title, because he had secured to the parish its ancient free pasture and common of fifty acres, in perpetuity; and had defeated Sir Nigel Nickem in his attempt to enclose it. After, as before this gentlemanly service, Threap was what is called by the profession a sharp practise!’ : that is to say, he would do business for any body, and whether they were on the right side or the wrong, if they paid him his charges beforehand, or he thought he had good security for after-payment. J ack Jigg, the fiddler of Meadowbeck, had beguiled society into the belief that he had done something for it, and could do some- thing for it still. And thus J ack contrived to live as well as here and there one in the village, and to bring up a family of seven children, or to have the hope and prospect of bringing them up, without parish relief. For miles round he was known and held in strong regard as a deft bow and an energetic dancer, as a rare tale-teller and joker, as a trusty bearer of love-letters and a contriver of lovers’ secret meetings, — in short, as a factotum of light services, by which he could, as he said, turn the honest penny, and not have overmuch weight to carry. The four shadows are complete — as shadows. 36 ALDERMAN RALPH. * CHAPTEB VI. Our new Characters receive the living Touch, and begin to walk out from the dim Perspective into the bold Foreground of our Historic Picture : shadows no longer, they are introduced, in corporal substance, to the Toll-keeper, and the Toll-keeper to them. It is the solemn churchyard and burial-ground of the village of Meadowbeck, with its moss-grown tombs and gravestones, and its huge stately yews, some of them bearing the age of five hundred years, if no more. A very impressive sight to look upon, only you cannot see it, for it is pitch dark — a vulgar figure, but still very impressive, and therefore we employ it. The church clock strikes one just as Jack Jigg, returning from a wedding- party held at a neighbouring village, crosses a stile, and enters the burial-ground. The dull drowsy sound had not died away, before Jack heard the heavy step and staff, as it seemed to him, of some one crossing the churchyard in another direction. He stood stock still, and pricked up his ears. “Soho!” said Jack to himself, “who can this be that is cross- ing Deadman’s Town at one of the morning? I must learn which way the wind blows, as old Peter Weatherwake says.” And Jack immediately stripped the old bag from off his fiddle, and seizing his bow made the fiddle say, in an unearthly tone — “ Go back ! go back ! go back ! ” — for, although J ack did not know a crotchet from a quaver upon paper, nor could play a single note of written music, he could make the fiddle do many queer things that would have puzzled Ole Bull or Paganini to imitate. Gregory Markpence, as bold as he was, did not dare to take another step forward. “ Go back ! go back ! go back ! ” said the fiddle again. ALDERMAN RALPH. 37 Gregory’s teeth chattered in his head; and he turned, and went back as fast as he could go for fear. “Now,” thought Jack, “ for turning the honest penny;” and slipping his fiddle into the bag again, he strode forward in the direction in which Markpence had retired. Far outside the churchyard, Jack, whistling as he went along, found Gregory trembling as he stood in the path. “ Who’s there?” asked Jack, stopping short. “ Gregory Markpence, of the toll-house. Who are you, friend ? ” “ Soho,” thought J ack to himself, “ what sly work can the old skinflint be after?” “ Oh! it’s only poor Jack Jigg, the fiddler,” said he, aloud. “Did ye cross the churchyard?” “Of course,” replied Jack; “there’s no other way out of Meadowbeck.” “Did ye hear aught? — aught spirit’al, I mean — as ye came across?” “Spirit’al! bless us and save us, what d’ye mean?” “ I must go to Meadowbeck. Turn back, and just go through the churchyard with me, and I’ll give thee the price of a pint of ale.” “I can’t,” answered Jack; “I’m off to a wedding-party, and must be there early. Get along by yourself, Mr. Markpence! Why should a man like you fear to hear aught spirit’al as you cross the churchyard?” “ But I have heard it already ; and I must have you along with me this time,” said Gregory, and laid his strong hand upon Jack. But Jack was free from his gripe in a moment, and defied the toll-keeper to catch him again. “Kay, nay, my good fellow!” cried Markpence; “do not for- sake me. I’ll give thee a shilling if thou wilt but go with me through the burial-yard. I must get to Meadowbeck, and see the lawyer. A crowd of villains have nearly pulled the bridge in pieces. The whole town was at my heels. I have been in danger of my life. I must get to Meadowbeck. Do come and 38 ALDERMAN RALPH. go with me, just across the churchyard, and I’ll give thee any thing.” “ Any thing means nothing,” replied J ack ; “ and besides it’s a wild tale that you’re telling, Mr. Markpence. Why could you not have gone to a lawyer in Willowacre, or have applied to the borough magistrates?” “ Borough magistrates, curse ’em ! ” cried Gregory ; “ they are the cause of it all, I’ve no doubt. And as for the lawyers of Willowacre, I would not trust one of ’em.” “ And you wish to go to Lawyer Threap, then?” asked Jack, determined to know all he could learn. “I do,” answered Gregory; “they think they’ve had fine fun, no doubt; but they’ll have to pay for it. Come with me across the churchyard, and I’ll give thee half-a-crown.” “Done!” said Jack, “ money first ! ” and held out his hand; but in such a way that he could not be caught. “1ST ay,” said Markpence, “ye needn’t fear me. There’s the money. Come along with thee!” “That I will,” said Jack Jigg, drawing the fiddle out of the bag, “ and we’ll have a merry strunshon, that will fright all the ghosts if they dare to gibber at us.” Gregory smiled grimly, liking the odd fancy, and clung fast to Jack’s shoulder. Away they went, safely enough, through the quiet churchyard, while Jack made the fiddle squeak like a pig, mew like a cat, cry like a child, bleat like a calf, blurr like a cow, and do any thing but sing a tune. Gregory snorted with mirth, for he had never heard the like of it ; and he could not laugh outright from his mixture of fear. “ There, that’s your way into Meadowbeck,” said J ack, slipping himself loose from Gregory, as they reached the stile at the farther end of the churchyard. “Will you not come with me a little way?” asked Gregory, having got over. “ISTo,” answered Jack, from the churchyard, and retreating into it a few steps. ALDERMAN RALPH. 39 “Go back! go back! go back!” said the fiddle, while Jack laughed the toll-keeper to scorn. “ Oh, curse thee for a villainous pickpocket ! ” cried Gregory ; but when he thought of following Jack into the churchyard his courage failed him, and so he hastened on to Meadowbeck. Enraged at the thought of his own superstitious weakness, at the fiddler’s trickery, and the loss of his good half-crown, Gregory Markpence rushed along through the village of Meadowbeck, till he came up to a large house at the farther end of it ; and believing that to be the dwelling of Lawyer Threap, he sprang over the garden-gate, which was locked, and striding up to the door, thundered away at it with his knobbed staff. The house- dog barked furiously; but, as the animal was inside, he could not harm Gregory. A man-servant was soon at the door, and de- manded who was there. “ Is the master at home h ” asked Gregory. The man answered that he was, but could not be disturbed at such an unseasonable hour. “ Unseasonable nonsense!” cried Markpence; “I come to make his fortune, man. Go, and tell him that he must get up and see me. I want him to write to Sir Higel Hickem, and to say that a thousand of the tag-rag and bobtail of Willowacre have broken the bridge into shivers. I am the toll-keeper, and have come on purpose to get him to write to the baronet.” The man grumbled; but he thought the message of such im- portance that he said he would go and take it. In a few minutes the man returned, and another with him. One held back the dog, and the other opened the door, and refastened it when Gregory stood inside. Gregory was shewn into a very long room, which was filled on every side with books. The man who had shewn him into it, threw some coals on the fire, which was low in the grate, pointed to a chair, and withdrew, assuring Gregory that the master would soon be with him. Half an hour elapsed, however, before the master came, and the toll-keeper had become so impatient that he had deserted the 40 ALDERMAN RALPH. chair, and had taken to walking from one end of the room to the other. He heard the door open while his back was towards it, and he was nearly at the other end of the long room. Turning quickly, he began to pour out his request at once— “ Get to your pen and ink in a moment,” said he, “ and tell Sir Nigel all about this rascally business. They have torn the bridge to shatters. By the lord Harry you must make ’em pay for it ; and make ’em pay you well, too. Look sharp ! there is no time to be lost— Lord bless me ! who is it ? ” “ Dingyleaf of the four pronomina : a shamefully-neglected and deeply-injured scholar, and a gentleman,” returned a sepulchral voice from out a long, thin figure, wrapped in a nightgown, and with a white cotton cap on its head. “ Crave your pardon, doctor ! ” — Tor Markpence knew that the great scholar was always spoken of by that title — though he really had no title to it : his own university had never given him a diploma ; society had done nothing for him ! “ Crave your pardon, doctor! I have made a mistake. ’Od curse it ! — -crave your pardon, doctor ! — but I have nothing but misfortunes to night” — “ Be seated, friend, be seated ! over-haste is dangerous. The best motto is festina lente .” “ Sir ? What did you say, doctor?” “ Hum ! ” said the scholar, meditatively, “ I must not cast pearls before” — “ I will bid you good-morning, if you please, sir. I thought this had been Lawyer Threap’s. I must get him to write about this business to Sir Nigel, without delay. Crave your pardon, doctor ! ” and the toll-keeper rushed to the door, made his way into the passage, brought the servants to a hearing, and was in the street of the village before the meditative and deeply-injured scholar had absolutely cast another thought forward. Yet he did cast it forward, and very far forward too, for one of his rusty habits. Dingyleaf of the four pronomina stalked to a shelf of his library, ALDERMAN RALPH. 41 took down a huge clasped volume, opened it upon a parchment page, muttering, as he looked upon it — “ Carolus Rex — in burgam Willowacris — Reginaldus Nickemius et maior , aldermanni , et concilia communis pontem fabricaverunt ,” and other cabalistical terms, for the space of fifteen minutes. The man-servant knocked at the room door ; hut the profound scholar did not hear him. He opened the door gently, looked in, and said, “ Bed, sir?” — but still he was not heard, and so withdrew to bed himself. The great scholar sat down with the folio before him, slowly formed a great purpose, and executed it so slowly, that we must leave him to his vast labour, and attend our hastier acquaintance, the toll-keeper. Gregory was on his way to another part of the village, in the belief that he could find the lawyer’s dwelling without making another blunder, when perceiving a light in a low, mean cottage, he approached it, with the thought that it was better to get direction than to proceed at a venture. Through the humble casement he saw a woman apparently attending to something she was cooking upon the fire. Gregory knocked, the woman opened the door without hesitation, and replied to Gregory’s question, that Lawyer Threap’s house lay through the church- yard. The toll-keeper was staggered. He stared at the woman till she repeated the words in a higher tone, as if she believed he was deaf. “ I hear you, good woman,” said Markpence ; “ but — but — is there no other way to the lawyer’s house but through the churchyard 1 ?” “ Ho,” replied the woman; “ I wonder that a stout man like you should — but I know not how it is — many folks don’t like to go among the dead i’ th’ night. I care nothing about it myself ; and I would show you through the churchyard, but my poor husband is taken ill, and I’m making him a little porridge.” “ What a fool I am ! ” thought Gregory ; “ I have only been tricked by that rascal of a fiddler. Why need I fear?” 42 ALDERMAN RALPH. But lie did fear, notwithstanding. His gloomy, superstitious nature, did not allow of his fears subsiding very soon ; and he stood sheepishly looking at the woman, and not knowing what to say, yet too timorous to go away. “ W ell, I must e’en call up little Davy, and he must go with you. Come in, awhile,” said the woman. “ Thank ye, thank ye ! ” said stout Gregory, and he entered the cottage by stooping, and sat down till little Davy Drudge appeared. “ Why, he’s but a child ! ” exclaimed Markpence. “ But he’ll shew you the way to Lawyer Threap’s,” said his mother. “ That I will, blythely,” said little Davy. Gregory was too much ashamed of his fears to say another word ; and, taldng his young guide by the hand, set out anew on his journey. The boy prattled away, and when they reached the churchyard stile, he sprang over it nimbly. Gregory followed, but started back at a strange sound that was neither shriek, cry, nor whistle, nor indeed like any sound that one can readily name. “Come on, come on!” cried little Davy, merrily; “it’s only Jack Jigg’s fiddle. I know him of old!” “’Od rabbet ye, you young varment, are you there?” cried Jack; “good-night to ye, then, Mr. Toll-keeper!” “Twist thy neck!” shouted Gregory, feeling so desirous of revenge that he forgot his foolish fears ; “ I wish I could catch thee. I’d pay thee off !” “Never mind! Let it alone till you get your business done at the lawyer’s,” said Jack. “ Ay, ay — come, let us get along,” said Gregory, knowing he should only lose time by trying to catch the fiddler. Little Davy soon led the toll-keeper to Threap’s house, and was about to return home, when Markpence asked him to stay. Davy refused, but promised to come back after he should have told his mother that the toll-keeper desired his further services. Markpence expressed his pleasure, and promised Davy a reward. ALDERMAN RALPH. 43 Tlireap and Gregory were soon seated together at a table in the lawyer’s office. The lawyer was a short, thick-set man, with eyes that did not squint, but one of which looked as if it were mystifying the other, or did not acknowledge it for a kinsman. His face was very fair, — quite a contrast to Gregory’s, — and a few red hairs were scattered over it at the sides, as an apology for whiskers ; but the hair of his head was of a light brown, and so were his eyebrows. The head itself was low, and deficient in what the disciples of Gall call the region of the moral senti- ments: its breadth was remarkable, and the hinder part was formidable in bulk, denoting the considerable degree of animal there was in the man’s nature. Its owner placed his elbows on the table, and fixed his chin upon his palms to listen fixedly while Markpence told the tale of storm and tempest, growing very tempestuous with the narrative. Threap heard him out without speaking a syllable, or moving a muscle, though his eyes rolled, and looked more unlike cousins every moment that Gregory’s tale lasted. “Well, now,” said the toll-keeper, “I’ve told you all about it — why do you not take pen and ink and begin ] ” “ Six-and-eightpence ! ” said Threap, in the quietest way possible. “ Six-and-eightpence ! What the deuce ! — why, you don’t suppose that I am to pay ! You must make the corporation of Willowacre pay you.” “ Did the corporation do the damage % ” asked the lawyer, tak- ing pen in hand, and placing a sheet of paper before him. “Ho doubt they set the rascals on — but you must not write it down that I say so,” cried Markpence, in some alarm, as he saw the lawyer beginning to write. “You can’t swear it,” said the lawyer, stopping; “then of course I can’t apply to the corporation for payment, until the town is properly indicted for a riot, and the cause is heard and determined. I do not like to do business on such far-off and un- certain prospects of payment. Besides, you asked me to write 44 ALDERMAN RALPH. to Sir Nigel Nickem. You must know that I cannot charge the corporation of Willowacre with the cost of a letter to the baronet. That is a mere private matter.” “ Then Sir Nigel may pay you himself. Six-and-eightpence will be a mere nothing to him, while it’s a great deal to me.” “Sir Nigel owes me no favour, you may remember; and, as I cannot compel him to pay the cost of a letter, I shall not ask him.” “Whew !” whistled Gregory, springing up from the table in such rough haste that he nearly overset both it and the lawyer; “why, you were the man who prevented him from enclosing Meadowbeck common ! Worse and worse ! He would think I was insulting him if I got you to write the letter. What the deuce must I do ? I shall go mad. I cannot go to any of the rascally lawyers at Willowacre. I don’t care. He may get to know as well as he can.” “You rent the bridge of Sir Nigel Nickem. You are in care of it. And, if you don’t let him know that the bridge is injured, you may be in prison before many days are over,” observed the lawyer, coolly. “What’s that 1 ?” cried Markpence, turning back, for he had nearly reached the door. “Just what I said,” replied the lawyer; “you heard the words clearly enough, I have no doubt.” “ But what can I do ? I can’t write to the baronet. I never could, in my life, make a scrawl fit to be seen by a gentleman.” “ I can write in your name. To a professional man, it mat- ters not to whom he sends a letter.” “ Then, confound it ! ” said Gregory, sitting down with sudden pleasure, “why didn’t you say so at first, man 1 ? Write away!” “ Six-and-eightpence ! ” said Threap, as quietly as before. Gregory started up again, and swore he would not pay it. Threap looked as cool as a cucumber, and did not reply. Gregory stormed, and went to the door, but could not open it. Indeed he did not try. That word “ prison ” was ringing in his ears; ALDERMAN RALPH. 45 and, at last, he took out his old leathern purse, put the six-and- eightpence on the table, and sullenly sat down, telling the lawyer to go on. The lawyer swept the money from the table, took his pen and plied it quickly, merely stopping to ask the toll-keeper a few material questions; completed the letter, sealed it up, and addressed it; and then gave it into Gregory's hand, charging him to hasten on to Willowacre, and put it into the post-office immediately. Gregory scarcely needed the in- junction, gruffly bade the lawyer “ good-morning,” and, finding little Davy at the door, hastened again to the churchyard. Little Davy prattled away as innocently as before ; but Mark- pence spoke not a word till they were through the burial-ground ; and then he cut short the poor lad’s simple talk. “ That ’ll do my lad,” said he, savagely ; “ get back to your mother. I can do without ye, now.” “You said you would give me something,” supplicated the innocent boy ; “my mother has no money, and daddy’s ill. Will you not give me a penny to buy him some oatmeal V 9 “ Get home, ye brat ! ” cried Gregory ; “ I’ve been robbed enough to-night.” And he strode away in a rage. Poor little Davy had never served in his life for a sordid reward, and would not have expected one from the toll-keeper had it not been promised : the good little lad always felt suffi- ciently rewarded, by rendering help where it was needed. Yow, he had been mocked and deceived. That was a bad lesson for poor little Davy Drudge ; and so Gregory Markpence afterwards proved, to his cost. So the world often shews bad lessons to its drudges ; and when they learn the lessons, and pay back the teacher in evil coin, the world affects to wonder at the scholar, and pretends to be horrified at his strange, incorrigible wicked- ness ! 46 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER VII. A most respectable Actor in this sublime Epos — our Minstrel — is exhibited in high vocation : he is laid asleep ; and the first Book of this History con- cludes. Some readers are so inseparably wedded to conventional pre- judices that one cannot reason with them. They expect a true history to read exactly like that false history — the respectable world. Every actor who figures on the page is to be held worthy and honourable, in proportion to the quantity of tinsel he wears, and the fine names by which he is addressed : as if tinsel were gold, and names realities. Every personage in the history is to be patronised, so long as he be daintily clad, or, at any rate, his coat not out at elbows : as if a man’s coat were himself, or his elbows were guilty of a mortal sin for peeping out of his coat. Now, one cannot reason with people who are so blind to the nature of true worth. How can one expect a man to judge of colours who was born blind? You may think the born-blind man was silly who answered that he thought scarlet was like the sound of a trumpet ; but the man was much sillier who asked him the question. By my troth, I would not waste a moment in attempting to reason with people who are wedded to conventional notions of respectability ! I shall only point to him who stands on the next step of our chronicle, and challenge observation for him. There he stands — our minstrel — always a necessary actor in high heroic or chivalric story ; or, in fact, in any story fashioned, like the present, on the best models — there he stands, with honest face, eager eyes, girt loins, sinewed for action, straining like a ALDERMAN RALPH. 47 keen hound in the leash ! Enough ! we let him loose ; and he shall prove his own true worth. Jack Jigg had reached the dismantled bridge long before Mark- pence could regain the toll-house ; for when Gregory, with little Davy, had hurried away from the churchyard to Lawyer Threap’s, the fiddler had first hastened home and given the half- crown to his wife, and then sped on for Willowacre, judging that, in the hurly-burly the town would be in, he might find other means for turning the honest penny. Jack gave a signal note as he came up to the toll-house, which brought out Margery, the toll-keeper’s daughter, pushed a letter into her hand from a correspondent that she was well acquainted with, and then walked away into the town. It was already four in the morning, as the church-clock of Willowacre proclaimed, when Jack was entering the borough; yet numerous lights in public-houses, and loud and merry sounds that issued from their doors, assured the fiddler that some were still enjoying, in retrospect, the “ fine fun ” which had so recently employed them. Advancing towards the “ Three Loggerheads,” the public-house where Jack was a well-known and highly- valued visitant, he beheld a crowd of men and women lighted by two torches, and apparently forming a circle to dance. Jack stopped short, wondering who was to be their musician, and whether they had hired his rival, wooden-legged Ay kin Aoddle- pate. “By Jingo!” thought Jack, “if that old stick be among ’em, I'll go back, and try their mettle at the ‘ Silent Woman.’ But no ! Body o’ me — why, they ’re dancing without music ! That’ll never do ! I’m in luck again ! once more for turning the honest penny!” And Jack quickly pulled his fiddle out of the bag, and marched up to the circle, playing “ Oh dear, what can the matter be!” What a merry shout they sent up for welcome to Jack! and how he did make the fiddle shriek, and the dancers whirl for the next hour ! They stop to rest and cool ; for though it was raw 48 ALDERMAN RALPH. November, sucb dancing as theirs was warm work, even out ot doors. The ale-can has gone round, J ack is tightening his fiddle pegs, and tuning his instrument to begin again, when there is a cry of — “No road this way! Pay the toll!” J ack gives over his tuning, and runs forward with the rest to know the meaning of it. And there is Gregory Markpence flourishing his staff, and threatening to strike, while some of the merry-makers are laughingly preventing his passage up the street. The laughter, however, changes into anger, as Gregory proceeds to execute his threat, and makes some of his troublers feel the weight of his cudgel. And now there might have been some dire and deadly deed, had not harmonious Jack interposed. “ Nay, nay, no foul play !” cried Jack magnanimously ; “ if any body harms Gregory Markpence, the sound of my fiddle shall never be heard in Willowacre again. Let him alone, I say ! and you, Gregory, get home, and don’t tempt people to do you an injury !” “ I will not,” answered Gregory, but in a somewhat subdued tone, for he had already begun to feel frightened ; “ I must go to the post-office. That’s ail I want to do ; and if I am allowed to go there quietly, that’s all I want. I will then go home ; but I must go to the post-office first.” Now, Jack Jigg’s head was not one of the thickest: and he readily divined that this was no pretence on the part of the toil- keeper, inasmuch as he knew that Gregory had been to Lawyer Threap’s, and supposed that that functionary had been employed by Gregory to write to Sir Nigel about the damage done to the bridge. “Well, then, fair play i” cried Jack; “ he only wishes to go to the post-office, he says. He shall go there — but no farther. And, my lads and lasses, we’ll all go with him, and give him some music. I’ll play, and you shall sing. N o w, then — off we go ! ” Jack again struck up “ Oh dear, what can the matter be!” — some of the crowd sung the ballad in tune, and some out ; and ALDERMAN RALPH. 49 thus they accompanied the toll-keeper, saw him put the letter into the box, and then followed him to his home. J ack marched by his side, and said to him slyly, just before they reached the toll-house — “ Gregory, are we quits, now, for the half-crown ? ” “ Ay, ay, and glad enough to be so quit,” replied Gregory ; for he had had time enough to reflect that it was very fortunate the fiddler was among the crowd, and to feel that J ack had really done him an important service. Jack was hugely satisfied with this act of generalship, and his friends were solidly pleased that he had prevented any more serious affray from taking place. They troop back merrily to the Three Loggerheads, and would have resumed their dancing in the street, but the loud and hurried ringing of a bell stays their purpose. “Do you hear that, neighbour'?” says one. “ It’s the Guildhall bell,” says another. “ The mayor has summoned a meeting of the corporation — that's the meaning of it,” reasons a third. “About this bridge affair, I am afraid,” says Jack Jigg. “ ]STo doubt of it,” adds another; “ I expected it would be so.” “ Well, I don’t think they’ll hurt any of us,” reasons a woman ; “ you know the corporation are no friends to the toll-house.” “ Well, but I fear they’ll call it breaking the law, d’ye see 1 ?” says Jack. “I have no objection to play while you dance in the street; but you know that is somewhat uncommon, as Hodge Hundrell said, when he saw the geese dancing while the fox played the bagpipes. Don’t you think it would look quieter if we were to step into the house, and you were to have a dance in the long room?” They agreed at once ; not only in obedience to the dictates of their sense of safety, but because they had a great reverence for Jack’s judgment. The fact is, that Jack Jigg, by kind word and fiddle, could do more in the way of rule among the plain folk of Willowacre, than some kings or emperors can do among their VOL. I. E 60 ALDERMAN RALPH. subjects, with parks of cannon, squadrons of horse, and battalions of foot. So J ack was wont to say himself, at least ; and he was even vain enough to declare, when unusually excited, that it would be much better, both for rulers and their subjects, if they would take lessons from Jack Jigg, and employ the kind word and the fiddle oftener than cannon, horse, and foot. But we must not expose all the presumptuous weakness of poor Jack. He is going round among the company, hat in hand, just before the dance recommences in the long room of the Three Loggerheads. Let us wish him success in turning the honest penny. “ There are wheels within wheels, in every clock that shows the true time of the day” — was an old proverb often in Jack’s mouth; and though he meant to keep his friends from danger when he drew them into the public-house, he had also a shrewd idea that it would not be a very productive process to carry his hat round for coppers in the open street. The dance in the long room at the Loggerheads was soon over, as J ack guessed it would be, and therefore had made his “ collec- tion” just in the nick of time. The perpetrators of “ fine fun” took second thought, and went home to bed, judging it better to do so, now the mayor, aldermen, and common-councilmen of the borough, were assembled. Jack counted his pence, and found he had turned the honest penny to the amount of another two-and- sixpence. Who is the reader that curls the upper lip, and does not care about being informed as to the exact petty figure'? Good friend, it may be of no importance to you ; but it was of very great importance to J ack. I insist that poor J ack deserves your respect. He does not stand indebted one farthing in any tradesman’s books. How, if you can honestly say you do not, that is more than your author can say. Jack, I repeat, has contrived thus far to bring up seven children without relief from the parish; and the contriving has cost him some wear and tear of body and brain. He has had, indeed, to enter on contriving as soon as he awoke every morning, and to pursue it till he fell asleep every night, for thirty years of his life, having been left ALDERMAN RALPH. 51 an orphan at ten years old. Jack has made his way in the world independently ever since that age, and is forty at this stage of our history. Has every reader done as much to prove himself entitled to the grand, but much misused epithets “ honest” and “ independent?” Never mind what supercilious and hypercritical people say of you, honest J ack ! If there be folk who wish to dance, and demand that you fiddle, you have a right to turn the honest penny by it ; ay, and the penny is as honest as the pound which is turned by some people. That’s right, J ack ! having comforted yourself with the thought that there is one half-crown earned for yourself and family to-day, and you may, if you can contrive it, earn another before midnight, creep up-stairs, and get a few hours of sleep — while we next essay to chronicle higher and loftier matters in the estimate of the great Willowacre world. °Hl\ 'Ei vis Ksny an Lib Rary / BOOK II. tafaining tjje reutplpte, impartaut, aiti mast intrarting iistani, af all tjjat ramp fa pass ia fjjp Saranglj of 'Mllattmra ait flip /aarfjj Sag. ALDERMAN RALPH. 55 BOOK II. CHAPTEB I. The Author invoketh the Muse, being about to treat of high Matters: he in- ducteth the Willowacre Magnates into their seats ; and the Corporation of the Borough is seen — is heard — is realised, in imposing Conclave. 0 Muse of History ! — divine Clio ! — eldest and most worshipful of the Mne ; if so he that thou, most venerable spinster, art not fallen long ago into thy last sleep, benignly vouchsafe to assist thy sincere and humble devotee, that he may perform the loftier and more arduous task that now lies before him, with the digni- fied veracity, the pure and perspicuous eloquence, which such a theme demands! 1 suspect thou wert sorely vexed with the waywardness of thy worshippers, and all their fondness for fable and allegory, for myth and marvel, in those old ages of the Olympiads. Lo ! here is an honest, simple-hearted chronicler, who escheweth his own imaginations, and purposeth to record human fact only! Can any mortal more warrantably expect thy help? Thou givest no sign— nor answerest me with one word! so, I must help myself. Yery stately — very stately indeed — was that old Guildhall of Willowacre. It had been reared in the reign of the last Plan- tagenet, and was a fair specimen of the rich perpendicular gothic. With the exterior our history has no concern, or we might tell of its rich carvery, and of the niches stored with kings of stone, and of the two images of Michael the archangel — one represent- 56 ALDERMAN RALPH. ing him blowing the last trumpet, and the other trampling on the devil : all objects of veneration — the kings and the archangel, we mean — to the people of Willowacre. The grand fan orna- ment which seems to support the ceiling, looks superb within; and so do the richly-stained windows, and that ancient screen of tapestry, and the helmets, swords, and pieces of body armour, which are hung round, and are not allowed to rust, but are either painted or gilded occasionally. The oaken carvery of the mayor’s chair, with its lofty canopy, and of the aldermen’s seats below it, is also rich ; neither is the carven work of the common-council- men’s seats contemptible, though it is plainer. The corporation of Willowacre have been suddenly summoned to solemn council. It is scarcely dawn of day, and the wax- lights are burning. The corporation of Willowacre would have scorned to use tallow : they would have deemed its use a dese- cration of that solemn old Guildhall. The mayor — little mayor Nicky — is clad in his silk gown of black, has the massive gold chain of office round his neck, and a large old-fashioned cocked hat on his head. There is a huge crimson-velvet cushion, tasseled with gold, before him; and what with the large cocked hat and the big cushion, you could scarcely see him if it were not for his long chin. The other aldermen, eleven in number, all of whom have served the office of mayor, are present, with goodly [Ralph Trueman at their head, and each arrayed in his bright scarlet cloth cloak, edged with white fur. The twenty-four common- councilmen, in their plain black cloth cloaks, are all in their seats; and the town-clerk occupies his usual place in that part of the common-councilmen’s dock which is nearest the aldermen, and is clad in his black velvet cloak with fringed lappets. There is much coughing, for it is cold, and the council have been dragged from their beds, and have had no time for breakfast — so imperative was the summons of the chief magistrate. He rises, and there is a cessation of the coughing ; for all are eager to hear what Mr. Mayor Backstitch has to allege as a reason for this most unusual proceeding. ALDERMAN RALPH. 57 “ Gentlemen/’ says Mr. Nicky, and then he coughs vehemently, and his brethren follow his example. “ Gentlemen,” he begins again, “ elected by your suffrages to hold the chief magistracy of this ancient borough, I — I — I have called you together — together — to — to — Gentlemen, our worthy town-clerk, possessing much abler ability than myself — gentlemen, I address myself to him to address you, gentlemen — on the importance of this important occasion.” Mr. Nicky sat down, thinking he had done tolerably well, and held his chin above the crimson- velvet cushion, to keep himself in sight. “■ Gentlemen,” said Mr. Pomponius Pratewell rising, “ in obe- dience to the request of his worship, I have to state to you that he has assembled the council at this early hour, not without con- siderable reluctance ; and trusts that the urgency of the occasion may excuse him in your judgments, to which he defers. Gen- tlemen, it is undoubtedly in the knowledge of all present that considerable injury has been done to the bridge; that the toll- gate has been forcibly torn away, the stone-work on each side destroyed, and the passage over the bridge rendered unsafe in the night hours. His worship, with that anxious care for the safety and lives of the inhabitants of this borough, which so highly becomes him as the chief magistrate, desires the corporate opi- nion as to what steps should be taken to prevent further injury. Furthermore, alarmed by the unusual noises during the night, and the great concourse of people in the streets, as reported to him by the watchmen and the borough constable, his worship has called you together, gentlemen, to institute an inquiry into the causes of the same, and to devise means for the prevention of such disorders in future.” Mr. Pomponius delivered this gentlemanly speech in his cus- tomary polished style — that is to say, with his left hand grace- fully resting on his side, gracefully waving his gold-set eyeglass with his right ; moving his graceful head gently to left and right, and uttering his syllables with the most proper and polished em- 58 ALDERMAN RALPH. phasis, and in liis naturally melodious voice. He was about to resume bis seat; but suddenly rose again, turned to the little mayor’s chin and bowed, saying : — “ Your worship, I presume, will now wish the watchmen and the constable to be called in, that their depositions may be taken.” “ Yes : certainly,” answered his little worship rising, and sit- ting down again. “ Hall-keeper, tell the borough constable and the watchmen to come before his worship and the council,” said the town- clerk to a man with a white wand, and in dark-blue livery faced with red, who stood at the remote end of the hall, near the door. The man touched his hair with his hand, and obeyed. The constable, a tall thin man, bearing his short staff in hand, and six somewhat ancient and not very active-looking watchmen, with bills much taller than themselves, now made their appear- ance at the bar — a beam of oak stretched across the hall, within two yards of the dock or common-councilmen’s table. The con- stable’s livery resembled that of the hall-keeper or mayor’s officer, and he held in his left hand a large cocked hat, trimmed with gold lace, which he was accustomed to wear in a mode the reverse of the mayor’s : the points of his hat usually touched the constable’s high shoulders when it was on his head ; whereas one point of the mayor’s hat was behind his back, and the other might have touched his worshipful nose, had it not been so short. The six watchmen were clad in long dark-blue coats or frocks, hemmed and collared with red ; and their bright bills, axe on one side of the pole and hook on the other, consorted as much as their ancient look with the antiquated place of assembly in which they stood. They bowed in silence when they reached the bar. Another mayor’s officer now handed from the town-clerk to the constable a small black bound copy of the Gospels, and the town-clerk pronounced the oath : — “You shall true answers give to such questions as this council shall demand of you : so help you, God ! ” ALDERMAN RALPH. 59 The constable kissed the book, the oath was put severally to the watchmen, and, looking quite awe-stricken, they waited to be questioned. There was silence, however, except the peals of coughing, when the town-clerk sat down. He knew that no business would be done in that way, so he rose again, turned to the mayor, bowed, and said — “Is it your worship’s will that I enter on the examina- tion ?” “ Yes : certainly,” repeated little Nicky, who began to wish himself snugly seated at his own breakfast-table, now the wax- lights were being put out, and the day appeared. “ Did any of you witness the tearing away of the toll-gate, last night V* asked Mr. Prate well. “No,” answered the constable and watchmen, shaking their heads, very seriously. “ Or the destruction of the stone- work on the bridge The same answer, and the same serious shake of the head. “ Do you know that it is destroyed “ Oh yes ! Oh yes !” answered all the watchmen and the con- stable, in a breath, and very gravely. “ At what time did you first observe that it was destroyed ? ” “May it please his worship,” answered the constable, “I observed it some three hours ago, and immediately informed him of the same.” “You did,” observed Mayor Nicky, graciously. “ And may it please the gentlemen of the council,” continued the constable, “ I was called up by two of the watchmen now present, to take the bridge into custody — that is to say, gentle- men, to — to ” — “ You mean that you were called up to go and observe the state of the bridge, and to take into custody any of the depreda- tors, if found,” interposed the town-clerk. “ J ust so : that’s what I mean,” said the constable. “ And did you find any h ” “Not one,” solemnly answered the constable. 60 ALDERMAN RALPH. “And do yon, or any of the watchmen, know who the depredators are ?” Each averred his utter ignorance of their identity. “ And now state — any of you — or all of you, what you have observed in the streets during the night.” “ May it please his worship,” began aged Nat Popplewell, “ I have been watchman in this borough, it will be forty years come St. Thomas’s day, please God, and I niwer seed the likes in my life.” “Nor I, please your worship,” said grey-bearded Paul Simpleby. “I’ve carried this bill eight-and-thirty years, ’twas last St. Swithin’s, and niwer wish to see such another night.” “ It’s been awful, your worship ! ” said old Luke Snell. “ A scandal to the borough ! ” said Chad Doddleforth. “ It’s been like Tom o’ Bedlam broke loose ! ” snuffled Mike Nettlebrake. “ And w-w- worse nor th-th-that, as I’m a ch-ch-christian m- m-man ! ” declared stuttering Stephen Gadsby. “ But what have you seen ? ” demanded the town-clerk ; “ these are all very loose and indefinite declarations.” “All the public-houses open through the night,” answered one. “ Shouting, laughing, and singing, all the night long, whilome it used to be so still that you could hear a mouse creep,” said another. “ Dancing like wild things in the street,” added a third. “But was there any fighting or brawling — any attempt to break windows ] ” “ Oh noah ! Oh noah ! ” answered they all. “Well now, constable, when you had gone with the two watchmen to inspect the bridge, did you observe any thing par- ticularly noticeable in the streets ? ” asked the town-clerk. “Just what the watchmen have described,” answered the constable. “ And did you take any steps thereon ? ” ALDERMAN RALPH. 61 “ Why, no ; I thought it better to keep out of harm’s way,” replied the constable, innocently. There was a titter among the younger common-councilmen ; but the elders checked such indecorum. “ And what did you advise the watchmen to do when you left them 1 ?” “ To go to bed, while I took the information to his worship,” replied the constable, with an important look. The younger members of the corporation now fairly burst into laughter. “You had better put an end to this!” said Alderman Ralph to the town-clerk, in a tone that made the mayor quake. “ Yes, yes : let them withdraw,” said the little man. The constable and watchmen were ordered to withdraw ac- cordingly, and also the hall-keeper and mayor’s officers, the latter being directed to listen to the bell. “With all due respect to you, Mr. Mayor,” began Alderman Ralph, almost before the hall-keeper had closed the door, “ I think this is a most unadvised proceeding.” “ Very” — “A piece of foolishness” — “A most absurd affair altogether” — “No occasion for calling us out of bed” — “What have we to do with it?” — such were the kind of echoes to Mr. Ralph’s opening words. “ The peace has not been broken within the town, so far as I can learn,” continued the senior alderman ; “ for what notice is to be taken about these reports of the people singing, or laughing, or dancing? They had better laugh than cry.” “Hear! hear! hear!” responded the jolly members of the corporation of Willowacre. “ And as for the plaguy bridge,” proceeded goodly Mr. Ralph, waxing warm when he touched the old sore, “ no one is able to swear who broke down any part of it ; and since Sir Nigel Nickem has the impudence to call the bridge his, why, all that I can say is — let him find out them that broke down the accursed toll-gate, and the trumpery stone-work!” 62 ALDERMAN RALPH. The acclaim and applause was loud as Mr. Ralph concluded his brief but forceful oration. “ And all that I have to say is,” remarked wealthy Mark Siftall, who had also a seat on the aldermen’s bench, “ if the bridge be Sir Nigel’s, let him repair it, and that quickly, or otherwise, I should think, we can make him.” “ I should think he ought to have a good slashing letter from the town-clerk about it,” said Diggory Cleavewell, who also wore the scarlet cloak. “ And to be required to appoint a competent person to super- intend the repairs forthwith,” observed Hugh Plombline, the master-builder, who sat beside the rich butcher. “ Why, as to that,” observed the senior alderman, rising again slowly and thoughtfully, and placing his hands in the pockets of his waistcoat — a procedure that attracted most absorbed atten- tion — “ as to that, it behoves us to think twice before we act once. In my humble opinion, the corporation ought not to acknowledge Sir Nigel Nickem’s claim to be considered sole proprietor of the bridge. But will he not consider it an acknowledgment on our part, if we demand that he instantly repairs the bridge?” “ The very thought that was passing through my own mind,” observed Alderman Poundsmall, the little apothecary. “ I was thinking of the same thing,” remarked worthy Jerry Dimple, the common-councilman. “ Then would it not be advisable that the corporation give orders themselves to repair the bridge? That would be like putting in a claim to the property,” said Alderman Plombline, who itched after the job of repairs. “ Not a very wise step, if we should not be able to prove our claim,” rejoined Mr. Ralph. “ I would much rather that we had a general turn-out of all the old worm-eaten trunks and rusty iron chests in the closet there, and that we made a thorough search for the original Bridge Deed. I lay my life to a groat, the town-clerk would be able to find proof there, that the bridge is not Sir Nigel Nickem’s.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 63 “ I beg pardon for interrupting the worthy senior alderman,” said Mr. Pratewell ; “ hut I really am not competent to the task of such a search. It would take years, in my judgment, to go through the ” The noise at the door of the Guildhall was now so great that Mr. Pomponius stopped and the whole council listened. “ Surely, gentlemen, there is more mischief a-brewing than some of you think,” burst out little Mayor Nicky, who was in- wardly writhing with mortification at the unceremonious way in which he had been chidden by the senior alderman, and the neglect of him shewn by the rest. “ Shall I ring the bell, your worship?” asked the town-clerk. “ Yes : certainly,” answered the mayor. The surprising answer which was made, visibly and orally, to that magic tintinabulum must be described in the next chapter. 64 ALDERMAN BALPH. CHAPTER II. The Appearance of a strange Visiter in the Guildhall of Willowacre: his Proposition to the Council ; and the way in which it was received. Reader, hast ever seen a ghost, and dost remember how thy knees smote together, and thy hair stood on end, and thy toe- joints crackled, and thy tongue cleaved to the roof of thy mouth? “ Ho.” It is very likely. Thy author never saw one. But thou hast seen an owl, which happened to mistake the time of day, and sally out of his hole before sunset, chased in the air by a swarm of little birds, — they, peradventure, following him less with intent to injure him, than attracted irresistibly to gaze on a shape so odd, uncouth, and unlike any other feathered thing they were accustomed to see. In like manner had an unexpected human phenomenon drawn after it a crowd in the streets , of Willowacre, and as it halted at the Guildhall door, and loudly demanded to be let in at the door, the crowd without laughed and shouted till the wonder- stricken council paused within. Ho sooner had the town-clerk rung the large hand-bell than the hall-keeper opened the door ; and the phenomenon, brushing past the officer who attempted to stop it, rushed into the hall, threw its long spare limbs over the bar, and advanced up to the council table. It was clad in a suit of embrowned black. A crane neck and thin face, surmounted by a wide-brimmed hat, seemed to stretch out of the coat above ; and slender legs, clothed in white stockings, to scramble out of knee-breeches beneath. A red mantle crossed its right shoulder, and the ends of the mantle were knotted at the left side, after the fashion of a Highlander’s plaid. All the council were on their feet at the entrance of this tall, wild-looking figure. The ALDERMAN RALPH. 65 little mayor Nicky turned pale; took the visiter for a madman who would commit some injury, and cried out to the members of the council — “ Seize him! why do not some of you seize him'?” “ Behold, and read ! ” exclaimed the phenomenon, stretching out its long thin arm, and presenting a large paper. “ Why, it is Dr. Dingyleaf ! ” said the town-clerk, suddenly recognising the shamefully neglected and deeply injured scholar. “ It is the Meadowbeck man of learning ! ” exclaimed the little apothecary, who likewise knew him. “ You come in a very rude, disrespectful way, sir!” observed Alderman Plombline. “ I can commit you, sir, if I please,” declared the important little mayor; but glanced towards the aldermen’s bench, as if he waited for Mr. Balph Trueman to permit such a display of authority. “ What do you want, sir? What is there in his paper, Mr. Town-Clerk?” asked Mr. Ralph. “ Upon my word, gentlemen,” avowed Mr. Pomponius, becoming suddenly excited with the paper which he had taken from the outstretched hand of the scholar, “ the learned doctor presents himself here with this paper at a time most singularly opportune. It is really very fortunate that we are assembled here. Shall I read, your worship?” “ Yes : certainly,” was the stereotyped reply of the mayor. “ Tacite , omnes /” entreated Dingyleaf sepulclirally, and lifting up his finger, while the town-clerk rapidly adjusted his eyeglass, and thus began to read : — “ Dingyleaf of the four pronomina, a shamefully neglected and deeply injured scholar, and a gentleman, to the Mayor, Aldermen, and common Councillors of the borough of Willow- acre, greeting: — “ Know ye, by these presents, that we, whose great-grandfather was for thirty years town-clerk of your ancient borough, have in our possession a copy of a document, the original whereof we VOL. I. F 66 ALDERMAN RALPH. believe to be yet among the archives of your corporation, setting forth and attesting the facts, — That the bridge over the river SIoavAow, the tolls whereof are wholly and undividedly claimed and received by Sir Nigel Nickem, Baronet, was built at the joint expense of Sir Reginald Nickem, ancestor of the said Sir Nigel, and of your corporation, in the third year of the reign of his majesty Charles the Second, king of these realms: “ That the tollage, although wholly and undividedly claimed and received by the honourable family of Nickem, should annually have been divided and apportioned between the representative of the said honourable family and your corporation, equitably : to wit — the representative of the said honourable family receiving seven-tenths, and your corporation three-tenths thereof, in con- sideration of the proportionate sums expended by each party on the erection and completion of the bridge. “ Now, we, the said Dingyleaf of the four pronomina, holding the production of the original document in a legal court to be of the highest importance to your corporation, and to the inhabi- tants of Willowacre, do hereby offer you our competent services for the discovery thereof, and pray that your corporate archives may be opened to our search without let or impediment, we holding ourself amenable to you for the careful and scholarly handling of the same. “ Given in our own hand, this twelfth day of November, in the year of our Lord, one thousand eight hundred and twenty-nine.” Ah, Dingyleaf ! are you bent on turning over a new leaf? Is your grand philosophy about to be abandoned ? Are you bent on doing something for society? Then, perhaps, you may find society inclined to do something for you. There is a buzz of delight in the hall. The manly voice of the senior alderman is heard, entreating that the learned doctor may be accommodated with a seat. Mr. Mayor Nicky invites the great scholar to take the large crimson cushioned chair on his right. The polished town-clerk steps forth, and most politely takes Dingyleaf s hand, and conducts him to it. The ALDERMAN RALPH. 67 little mayor shakes hands with him. Every alderman imitates the mayor. The chief magistrate asks him how he does. Mr. Ralph repeats that extraordinary question. “ Valeo” the great scholar was beginning to say; but remem- bered he must answer English with English, and so answered he was well, although he was beginning to feel that all this was almost too much for his nerves. There is a very desultory conversation as to what should be done. Some thought the subject too vast to be discussed with- out breakfast, and were for proposing an adjournment. But the business-like mind of Alderman Balph sets them right. “ Gentlemen,” said he, “ there must be no delay. We have delayed too long. I say, let this huge robbery of Sir Nigel Nickem and his family — for I do not hesitate to use the words — be ended. I move, that the offer of Dr. Dingyleaf be immedi- ately and most gratefully accepted, and that a committee of five — to be composed of Mr. Mayor, two of our bench, and two com- mon-councilmen, — the town-clerk, of course, attending them, — be forthwith appointed to see the arrangement with the learned doctor carried out.” “ I second the motion,” cried several of the corporation. No one opposed ; the mayor put the proposition, and it was carried. The senior alderman and Mr. Gervase Pound small were next nominated and carried as members of the committee — Alderman Plombline being observed to look disappointed because he was not named. The landlord of the Wheat Sheaf being one of the elected councilmen, observed this very clearly, and offered to give up his appointment to the master-builder, from a natural desire to gratify so old a visitant to his parlour ; but it was not permitted. The town-clerk respectfully suggested to the mayor, that it would be advisable to give notice of another meeting of council for that day week, as the committee might have something to report to it from the learned doctor. The mayor readily acceded, and then the polished and politic Pomponius addresses a few 68 ALDERMAN RALPH. concluding words to tlie corporate assembly, in which he soothes the disturbed mind of his worship ; congratulates the council on the fortunate — nay, he thinks he ought to say, providential — summons issued by the chief magistrate that morning ; anticipates lmppy success for the learned doctor, and the gratitude of future ages, in Willowacre, as his most substantial reward; and signifies, by his worship’s direction, that the council is ended. Great congratulations follow. The little mayor tries to look pleased, although his sore is not quite healed. The whole council separates in apparent good-humour : and goodly Alderman Halph bears off Dingyleaf of the four pronomina to breakfast with himself and May Silverton. ALDERMAN RALPH. 69 CHAPTER III. In which the History of the Fourth Day is continued ; the great Scholar is in- troduced to the Senior Alderman’s domesticities; and a foul Conspiracy is begun. If an aristocratic falcon, or a gentlemanly hawk, had suddenly appeared in the blue space, and taken the awkward mazed owl under his protection, doubtless the low plebeian small birds would have speedily shrunk away. So, when the crowd which, in the unsettled state of the town, had been quickly brought together by Dingyleaf ’s grotesque appearance, had derisively ap- plauded the resolution with which he battled the mayor’s officers and made his way into the hall, and now waited his egress with the intent to renew their clamour, saw him step forth under the protection of burly Alderman Ralph, they withdrew the foot, and were most respectfully silent. Ho sooner had the last member of the corporation quitted the Guildhall, than the curious multitude teased the mayor’s officers with questions, until they learned that the phenomenon was the famous Meadowbeck man of learning; and that he had received a grand commission from the council of the borough to make diligent search for the document concerning which Alderman Ralph had always spoken so loudly. They all considered this as a sure token that the obnoxious bridge-tax would soon be abolished; and soon separated in great glee to spread the joyful news through every street, lane, and alley, of ancient Willowacre. The day was turned into a holiday; and honest Jack Jigg was soon summoned from sleep to enter again on industrious and profitable action. But, first, of the profound scholar, and his reception at Alderman Ralph’s. 70 ALDERMAN RALPH. May Silverton had stored the breakfast-table with more solid viands than ordinary, inasmuch as it was full two hours beyond her uncle’s time of taking his morning meal, and she apprehended he would be more than ordinarily hungry. Dingyleaf, having walked all the way from Meadowbeck without breaking his fast, was even in sharper condition, as to appetite, than the alderman. He despatched pork, pasty, tongue, and eggs, with a rapidity that astonished Mr. Ralph, whose excellence as a trencherman was proverbial. Dingyleaf had thus gained another important step in the senior alderman’s respect. May had felt some surprise at the introduction of the new guest, and some curiosity; but she suppressed both, with her characteristic good sense and good nature, and gave assiduous attention to the wants of her uncle and the scholar. These being, at length, tolerably well satisfied, Mr. Ralph began to introduce his niece and young Edgar Tichborne to the great scholar, and the scholar to them, in a more formal way; and to make them acquainted with the important office which Dingyleaf had under- taken relative to the grand document. Edgar’s eyes glistened with delight ; for, to one so thoroughly imbued with the partisan spirit of Willowacre, the anticipated discovery of the Bridge Deed gave unbounded pleasure. May received her uncle’s de- scription of the great scholar’s accomplishments with a sort of awe; and would have ventured on the liberty of scanning his appearance more closely, had not the large grey eyes of Dingy- leaf been fixed so strangely upon herself. The knife and fork were still in his hands, and an ample slice of savoury tongue lay yet on his plate; but there he sat, with lips disparted, and looks of lackadaisical delight, like those of a child entranced with joy- ous wonder at what it sees. May was covered with blushes; and thought she must have risen and left the room to hide them. But, happening to glance at Edgar, she saw he was so tickled with the great scholar’s look, that he had put his handkerchief to his mouth, and was almost stifled with the effort to conceal his laughter. May was smitten, and burst out a-laughing unavoid- ALDERMAN RALPH. 71 ably. Edgar would have given way] but the changed look of the scholar, which was suddenly fixed on the youth, sobered him in a moment. Dingyleaf discerned that young Edgar’s ridicule was meant for himself] and the eyes, which had so recently manifested helpless and pleasurable wonder, suddenly shot forth unspeakable anger. But the scholar checked himself instantly, and renewed his attack upon the savoury tongue. All this had occurred so quickly, that the goodly alderman, who was again busy with the veal pasty, had marked nothing of it, save the sound of May’s laughter. That he always loved, and therefore joined in it at once, with his old exclamation of — “Never mind, child! nothing amiss!” — imagining she had either overturned the cream or her coffee-cup ] and then hastened to finish his long breakfast. When left by themselves, the conversation of the scholar and Mr. Ralph concentred on the great topic of the Deed. Mr. Balpli’s questions were numerous, and were flowingly expressed ] while Dingyleaf, whose conversations with the living had, for years, been very scanty, found difficulty in returning answers of any length. The worthy alderman attributed this to diffidence, and conceived a strong idea that his guest’s conversational powers were improvable. “ You are a little rusty, my good doctor]” observed he with kindly jocularity — “ a little rusty, like a good key that has been but seldom used. I see how it is. You have been a great deal among books, and too little among men. But I hope we shall be able to j>olish you up, and make use of you for unlocking treasures that may be very useful to us. I do not mean this Deed only ; but general treasures— general treasures, my dear sir — such as you must have stored away in the great lumber-room of your mind.” “ In camera scrutorum mentis — that is to say,” replied the scholar, “ at what inn, think you — I would say — shall I lodge % ” “ Inn, my dear doctor ! I shall be highly honoured by your becoming my guest, even if the search among the old chests and 72 ALDERMAN RALPH. trunks should cost you a year. I cannot hear of your going to an inn. I beg you will not mention it again ! ” “ Oh, never ! ” answered Dingyleaf, without hesitation. He had gained a great point, he thought; though what he was really thinking of the alderman had not suspected. “ My habili- ments, worthy sir ! ” he continued, with more pause ; “ I must to Meadowbeck, and return, you perceive!” “ Exactly, doctor,” answered Mr. Ralph ; “ you have little arrangements to make, of course. We shall confidently expect you again, however, by to-morrow.” “ Oh, to-night!” interrupted the scholar. “ Better still,” said the alderman ; “ your rooms shall be ready, and I trust, my dear doctor, you will make yourself perfectly at home, here. I am delighted to think you are in earnest to begin. I will see the mayor and the other members of the committee to- day; and we will make arrangements for conducting you to the scene of operations to-morrow.” “ Excellent ! ” said Dingy leaf, and rose to depart. Mr. Ralph insisted on conducting the scholar as far as the bridge ; and there, most politely, bade him farewell, till the evening. The house and shop of Mr. Nicholas Backstitch, the mayor, were in the street by which Mr. Ralph chose to return home. He thought it better to see the chief magistrate at once; as for the other members of the committee, he considered that, since they were of the parlour company at the Wheat Sheaf, he could see them in the evening. The glazed door of Mr. Nicky’s shop being open, the alderman stepped over the threshold, and was about to give “ good-morning” to the mayor, when he beheld that dignitary and Plombline, the master-builder, in such close and earnest conversa- tion at the farther end of the shop, that they seemed unaware of his entrance into it. He paused a moment or two, and then said : — “ Good-morning, Mr. Mayor : beg pardon, I see you are en- gaged. Good-morning, Mr. Plombline!” “Oh dear, no! not at all engaged!” replied the little mayor, with an air so strangely disconcerted that it drew notice even ALDERMAN RALPH. 73 from the unsuspicious mind of Mr. Ralph. Hugh Plombline re- peated the mayor’s words ; but they both looked so downcast and perplexed, that Alderman Trueman stared, first at one and then at the other, till he looked more perplexed than either. Plombline was seized with a violent fit of coughing. The mayor stammer- ingly said it was a fine morning; to which Mr. Ralph made no response, but resolved to despatch his business and begone. “I merely called to say, Mr. Mayor,” he observed, “that Dr. Dingyleaf wishes to enter on his business to-morrow morning. I hope that will be agreeable to yourself?” “ Yes, certainly,” answered little Nicky. “ Thank you ! I will, then, inform the other members of the committee to night, at the Wheat Sheaf. At what hour shall we say? Ten?” “Yes, certainly,” again replied the mayor. “ Good morning, Mr. Mayor — good morning, Mr. Plombline ! ” and Alderman Ralph was gone in a moment. He did not like that meeting : it was what he was unused to in neighbourly Willowacre. But he would not be rendered uneasy by thinking about it : he put it away from him. Not so the little mayor and Hugh Plombline. They were vexed at heart that they had been caught, although it was their own behaviour, solely, which had laid them open to suspicion. They muttered their vexation to each other, till they strengthened the power of the evil thoughts which had but lately entered their hearts. “It has been my opinion for a long time,” observed little Nicky; “but then, you know, one does not like to tell one’s thoughts to every body.” “ That’s the case with me,” answered Hugh Plombline ; “ but had we not better close the door ? ” “ Good : I will close it immediately ” — “ That’s the case with me. You know, business is business. One must be careful not to lose it.” “Just so ; and especially in Willowacre; where, in your line, there is so little stirring.” 74 ALDERMAN RALPH. “Very little. But I really do think, with you, that one family and one man should not have such an overwhelming in- fluence in the corporation and in the borough. It is time that some of us asserted our independence. But then, you know, it requires great caution.” “ It does — it does!” rejoined mayor Nicky, knitting his brows very shrewdly, and shaking his chin ; “ you see we were pounced upon, even just now.” “ True,” observed the other emphatically ; “ but how irksome it is to think, that two friends cannot have a little talk, and speak their minds to one another, without dread of being over- heard by a certain great man. And who is he, after all h It is true the family have been in the corporation a long time ; but I have heard old Alderman Lovesoup say, that the first Alderman Trueman — great grandfather to the present one — -was no better than a mere scavenger in the streets of London, at one time.” “ I have heard as much, before,” said Nicky, whose strengthen- ing envy and spleen were impelling him to lie, by way of politely backing up his friend, Plombline ; “ and therefore I don’t see why any of us are to be lorded over by this man. Not that I mean to say any thing against his character ” — “ Oh dear, no ! ” interrupted Plombline ; “ not one word ! a man in every way respectable — only, you know, there is a medium in a man’s way of conducting himself. His behaviour to your- self, as mayor, now, this morning : why, who can justify that ? It was sheer tyranny.” “And then, you see, you were not allowed to be one of the committee. He would not allow J erry Dimple to make way for you. And what can Jerry know about this business ? Not that I mean to say a word against him ” — “ Oh dear, no !” repeated the master-builder; “not one syllable. A jollier soul than Jerry does not exist in the world. But then, you know, there should be some discernment in making these appointments. But it is very easy to perceive that all goes by favouritism.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 75 u That is very clear,” agreed the mayor Nicky, “ and, of course, it was merely because I happen to hold office this year, that Trueman named me as one of the committee.” “ Just so. He could not have omitted you without unmask- ing himself as the dictator. But you have it in your power, let me tell you, by virtue of your office, to lower his arrogance, if you choose. Take your resolution, and act for yourself. You saw that the town-clerk knew what belonged to your position. His conduct was very different towards you.” “ Why — yes — in — some respects,” said Nicky, looking on the floor, and speaking considerately. “ Oh ! I don’t mean that there is any real independence about Pratewell,” observed Plombline, growing more bold and confi- dential in the revelation of his estimates of character ; “ I don’t think there is one man in the whole chamber who is more servile, unless it be that contemptible little parasite, Poundsmall ; but then, you know, Pratewell remembers that office comes round for every member of the bench ; and, therefore, he knows that he must support the dignity of the mayor for the year, let him be who he may. Pratewell must do that, as town-clerk.” “ Well, but what can I do alone ?” asked the mayor. “ Do ! I’ll warrant it you’ll find opportunities of asserting your own dignity as mayor, and of mortifying the dictator, if you only look out for them. You have a friend here,” continued Plombline, giving little Nicky his hand, which the mayor grasp- ed fervently ; “ we are two to begin with. You have not been two months in office yet, so there are more than ten months for action. Depend upon it, we shall have backers in that time, and may ” — “ Bring him down a buttonhole or two, you think?” suggested tailor Nicky, as Plombline stopped, and nodded sagaciously. “ That’s it,” replied the other ; “ it could not be better expressed. And he must be brought down, too — only, you know, we must be cautious. Not that either you or I have much to fear. Trueman does not custom you, I think?” “ Never made him a suit in my life.” 76 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ So I thought. And although I have done a good bit of building for him, years ago, yet that’s all past. He had his work for his money. And he will not build any more now. So I can lose nothing by telling him a bit of my mind. Men at his time of life don’t care about building. It is these young spirited fellows — such as this Mr. Pevensey, who has come to live in the borough — who think of building improvements.” “ Ah! by the way,” interrupted Nicky, rather eagerly; “Mr. Pevensey is invited to make one of the parlour company at the Wheat Sheaf, I understand.” “ He is,” answered Alderman Plombline, and a very proper invitation. I was glad to hear it ; for I have just received an order from him to make an estimate for large improvements in his house and grounds. He a very highly respectable young gentleman.” “ Oh, no doubt of it ! All that I mean is, that you are so very select — so very select at the Wheat Sheaf,” and little Nicky smiled in his friend’s face, knowingly. “I understand you,” said Plombline; “well: I’ll propose you, if you like.” “ Nay, I don’t wish to push myself in,” deprecated Nicky, noticing the half-backwardness with which his zealous friend said, “ if you like.” “ I’m sure you don’t. Well : leave it to me. Good-morning ! ” They shook hands with much apparent heartiness as they parted; but there was a suddenness in Mr. Hugh Plombline’s way of going off, just when the introduction to the Wheat Sheaf parlour was mentioned, that caused the little mayor some bitter imaginings and reflections for an hour after. The conspiracy was begun; but the two founders of it alike discerned that neither had any real regard for the other. And so it was begun with jealousy and distrust on both sides, as conspiracies often are, and for that very reason often result in the greater mean- ness, though they effect less mischief. ALDERMAN RALPH. 77 CHAPTER. TV. An Accident lays bare the soft side of the Senior Alderman’s heart : Mr. Pevensey witnesses it, and loves him for it : Mr. Edgar and Miss Alice get better acquainted, and Edgar begins to have some particular thoughts. It is hoped that the reader is sufficiently interested in the hero of this work, to desire that the goodly alderman may not disgrace himself by yielding to any of the temptations to become mean, low, or little, with which this world abounds. We come now, however, in the orderly course of this history, upon a fact in Mr. Ralph’s life, which admits of interpretations as various as the constitutions, prejudices, or doctrinal views, of his judges happen to be. To any disciples of the philanthropic Mr. Malthus, or holders of the “ Provide-for-yourself ” doctrine, I can only humbly apologise for what they may deem to be a foolish weakness in the burly alderman, by describing it as an excusable yielding on the soft side of his great heart : a doing something because he could not help it. I do not presume to make any other excuse for the well-meaning man. It was past noon when Mr. Ralph reached home; and he passed into the parlour with an intent to tell his niece, May Silverton, that he thought they would have a late dinner that day, since they had breakfasted two hours after their usual time. He was informed, however, that May had just walked up to Lovesoup House with Mr. Gilbert Pevensey, to ask Miss Pevensey how she did, and that May had said she was sure she would be back before her uncle returned. “Then, egad! I’ll go and meet her,” said Mr. Ralph to his maid Betty ; “ for I do not feel very fit for business, and every body seems keeping holiday.” So away Mr. Ralph went, and 78 ALDERMAN RALPH. not meeting May on tlie way, found himself at Mr. Pevensey’s gate sooner than he had imagined he could have walked so far; his mind being very deeply busied all the way with reflections on the wondrous occurrences of that morning and the three pre- ceding evenings. Before he could raise his hand to the knocker, a boy pulled him by the coat, and said in a plaintive tone — “ Please, sir, are you not Mr. Alderman Trueman ? ” “ Yes,” replied Mr. Balph, looking down upon the lad sharply; “ what do you want r l Who are you h ” “ Davy Drudge, sir,” answered the little fellow ; “ and my mother is Patty Drudge, who used to be Patty Penniless when she lived with you ; and my father ” — but there the poor lad burst into sobs and tears, and could say no more. Good-hearted Balph tried to console the lad ; but not knowing the cause of his grief, and being much affected himself, felt very awkward about it. The gate was opened while they stood together in this condition; and the cheerful laughter of May, who was accompanied to the gate by Mr. and Miss Pevensey, was suddenly checked when she beheld the boy weeping, and her uncle bending over him, and also in tears. May speedily joined in the attempt to check the lad’s grief, and applied her handkerchief to his eyes. Mr. and Miss Pevensey eagerly asked what ailed the boy; but he could not answer yet; and Mr. Balph could only answer — “ It is poor Penniless Patty’s child ! ” and then put his handkerchief to his oAvn eyes. “ Do come in, sir,” entreated Gilbert Pevensey,” and let the boy be brought in, too.” “ Yes do, sir,” added Alice Pevensey, taking the alderman by the arm, “ and bring the poor boy in too, dear May.” And Mr. Balph went towards the house with Alice ; but Gilbert took May on his arm, and the boy by the hand, and so brought up the remainder of the party. Davy Drudge was placed in a low chair, and, when he was able to answer, told them that his father was dead. They made him take a little biscuit, and a sup of wine — the first time in his life poor Davy ALDERMAN RALPH. 79 Drudge had tasted that luxury ; but seeing his grief return, Mr. Ralph said — “ Do not let us tease him with more questions. I see how it is. Poor Patty — she is an old servant of mine, Mr. Pevensey — is in distress, and does not know how to get her husband buried. Very likely, that scheming, flinty-hearted Threap, who has con- trived to get all the Meadowbeck parish affairs into his own hands, has been hard towards her. I will send the money over to bury her husband, and something for herself, too. And so, excuse me, Mr. Pevensey,” he said, rising; “ I will go and send one of my young men over to Meadowbeck with the money.” “ Nay, nay, my dear sir, do not leave us yet,” entreated Gilbert: “ this is the first time we have been honoured with your presence here. I understand it is a general holiday in the town, and I don’t think you will do more business to day. Do stay and dine with us. I know,” he continued, glancing at May, “ that you have made no positive arrangements for dinner at home. So we will not be refused. Meantime, permit me to send my man John over to Meadowbeck for you. He shall take a horse; and this poor little fellow shall ride behind him. I shall also beg, if you please, to go shares with you in the rebel of this poor widow and her fatherless child.” “ Upon my word, Mr. Pevensey,” broke forth the alderman impatiently, “ you are very bold. But I honour you for it,” he said, in an altered tone ; “ it shews that you have a heart with- in you.” “ I am glad you are not angry with my brother,” said Alice ; “ he is sometimes over-bold in such affairs as these.” “ And so business-like,” said Mr. Ralph ; “ why, he settles it all in a breath ! ” “ But do you not think, dear uncle,” asked May, “ that you had better accept Mr. Pevensey’s kind offer about the messenger ? You know the poor boy will get home more easily, and he seems very weak. And besides his poor mother will get relief the sooner. 80 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ Yes, yes,” said Gilbert, ringing the bell ; “ let me send John off at once, my dear sir.” “ W ell, there is an advantage in the messenger being at hand. I will be greatly obliged to you to do so, Mr. Pevensey,” said the alderman ; “ but I will have no further partnership, you understand.” “ I trust you will in the dinner,” retorted Gilbert. “ Well, well ! I yield there, too,” answered Mr. Ralph, catching the wistful glance of his niece. But her look was changed the moment that her uncle had spoken. “ I am just thinking, uncle,” she said, “ that Edgar will, perhaps, feel hurt.” “ That he shall not : we will send for him at once,” said Gilbert. “ Yes, immediately,” added Alice with a slight blush, which none but her brother observed — May and Mr. Ralph being intent on the direction Gilbert was now giving to John to hasten to Meadowbeck. John retired to make ready his horse, and was directed to come round to the front gate for the boy. “ I am just thinking, my love,” said the large-hearted aider- man to his niece, “ that poor Patty and her child will now be very hard set to get through the world. Since Dr. Dingyleaf is to be our guest for some time — though how short or how long a time, I cannot tell — Betty will need constant help; and poor Patty had better come back to her old master.” “ I am sure Betty will be very glad of her help,” replied May, with a look of love for her uncle’s goodness to the widow. “ And if you will come and live with me, my little fellow,” said Gilbert to the boy, “ you shall have a kind master ; and you will be near to your mother. What say you*?” “ I would rather be with my mother always, now my daddy is dead,” answered Davy, artlessly. “ Well, well, we will make all that right,” said the alderman, giving a significant look at Gilbert ; “ how long had your father been ill, Davy?” ALDERMAN RALPH. 81 “ He only began to feel worse last night/’ replied the boy ; “ and he would not have died if the bad toll-keeper had given me the penny he promised me, that I might have bought my father a penn’orth of oatmeal.” The lad’s answer was so odd, that they questioned him as to its meaning. Davy gave them the account of his adventure with Markpence, and of Gregory’s broken promise, not forgetting the tricks of Jack Jigg. They could not forbear laughing at some parts of the boy’s story. But Davy could not laugh; and they found it impossible to persuade him that neither the want of oatmeal, nor Gregory’s falsehood, had any thing to do with his father’s death. Davy set it down to the account of both ; and he could not comprehend the force of any reasoning against his conclusion. This conviction, that the “ wicked toll-keeper” was the cause of his father’s death, was not soon removed from poor Davy’s mind ; and influenced his conduct towards Mark- pence in an important matter, as we shall have to relate in our after-history. One piece of information was drawn from the boy, in the pro- gress of his story, which Alderman Balph was glad to have gathered : namely, that lawyer Threap had been employed to write to Sir Nigel Nickem about the injury done to the bridge. The boy’s pockets were stuffed with cake, and he set forth with J ohn, who was entrusted with money for the widow’s relief by Mr. Balph ; and was also commissioned to express to her the alderman’s desire, that she would return to her old service after the burial of her husband. Gilbert Pevensey, unobserved by the alderman, but observed by May, made an addition to the money entrusted to John for the relief of Davy’s mother. Be- fore the end of a week she and her boy were comfortably established in Willowacre : Davy being permitted to be wholly with his mother at first; but his docility and natural sense soon permitting his happy transfer to the service of Mr. Pevensey. Young Edgar Tichborne joined the dinner party, and was VOL. i. G 82 ALDERMAN BALDSL disposed to be very uneasy as lie stole a glance, now and then, at the happy eyes of May Silverton, and unerringly perceived whose presence it was that lent them that expression of content. Unconscious of Edgar’s observation, or that there was any cause why she should be the particular object of it, May listened with unrestrained delight to the conversation of Gilbert Pevensey with her uncle, knowing no reason why she should exercise restraint on her sense of delight, and unsuspicious that the indulgence of it would ever lead to regret. Alice Pevensey derived pleasure from what caused Edgar so much discontent ; but harboured a gentle wish that she could abstract his mind from it. She represented to herself that it would only be kind- ness to attempt to do so. Alice soon discovered that Edgar was passionately fond of poetry; and her praise of his favourite minstrels was given with such critical discernment, that his atten- tion was securely won, and his desire awakened to become better acquainted with her mental stores and tastes. From poetry, Alice delicately conducted the conversation to flowers, and found, to her own real delight, that in that region of beauty Edgar Tichborne was also a worshipper. And among her flowers Edgar saw Alice Pevensey alone and busily engaged, when he was left with Gilbert and Mr. Ralph over their wine. Gilbert saw his eyes attracted to the dining- room window, which looked out upon the lawn and shrubbery, and observing that he cared nothing for the wine, and partook but slightly in the conversation, politely intimated that, per- haps, he would like to look at some choice flowers which Alice was trying to preserve through the winter. “ Ay, that’s right, Mr. Pevensey ! ” cried Alderman Ralph ; u Edgar, dear boy, is not in love with the glass, and I’m glad of it : it shows his good sense. But I know he loves flowers dearly. Take a stroll into the grounds, my boy. The open air will do you more good than our dull — I mean, my foolish — talk.” Edgar was glad to be released, and forthwith joined Alice. He surprised her — or, at least, it seemed so — bent over a delicate ALDERMAN RALPH. 8 , foreign plant, and busily intent on eartiling up its roots. May had gone home, she said, thinking it neccessary so to do, since May was unaware of staying till her uncle came up to Lovesoup house ; but May would return in an hour. Alice left the earth- ing up of the plant unfinished, and began leisurely to move along the flower-beds, directing Edgar’s attention to the gracefulness of the leaves of particular plants, the flowers of which were gone; or uttering little comments on the general character of the tribe to which a plant belonged. Her observations were so destitute of an attempt at show, and yet discovered so much learning and intelligence, in Edgar’s opinion, that he half reproved himself for wishing May Silverton’s mind were as well furnished. The solid and connected character of her talk on intellectual subjects and matters of taste, chiefly impressed him with a belief in her superiority. She did not burst out into little natural rhapsodies about beautiful flowers and sweet poetry, like May ; and yet ap- preciated all that was beautiful and sweet in flowers and poetry, as it appeared to him, much more deeply. She showed more mind, Edgar said to himself, emphatically. What gave him the highest idea of Alice Pevensey’s superior intelligence, was the deep and respectful attention she paid to the few remarks he himself made, and the manner in which she enlarged upon them, as if she understood him to have meant all that she was herself saying. It was far otherwise with May. Edgar often felt it difficult to fix her attention when conversing with her about the subjects of their reading. She would show weariness when he was becoming very critical, or, at least, metaphysical and abstruse in his criticisms. Hay, sometimes, she would contradict him, although she could not answer argu- ment with argument ; but could only say she “ felt ” it was not so. If Edgar replied that that was unphilosophical, May laughed ; and then Edgar gave it up, sometimes a little petulantly. Alice never contradicted him : she was evidently of opinion that he was a young man of mind: Edgar was sure of that. She was not so beautiful as May; but she was a very graceful 84 ALDERMAN RALPH. young lady. There was the lady — the high-bred lady — as he conceived it to be, in her air, movements, and conversation, now they were there, by themselves, among the flowers and shrubs. He was sensible that she had not shown that so clearly when May was with them. But did not that prove, more indubitably, the perfection of her breeding? And was it not also an undeni- able proof that she had an excellent heart, as well as a vigorous and well-educated mind? The kindness in her deep blue eyes, especially when she smiled, would convince any body that she had a heart of tenderness. It was her higher training which prevented that from being so evident every moment, as it was in May, he decided. Opportunity for enlarging his acquaintance with Alice Peven- sey was cut short by May’s return; and then her uncle and Gilbert hinted that an early tea was desirable, since they purposed hastening into the town to be ready for receiving Dr. Dingyleaf on his return from Meadowbeck. Tea over, the whole party went to Mr. Balph’s together; and in a short time the arrival of the great scholar was announced. Gilbert Pevensey drew out the scholar’s stores in a way that delighted Mr. Ralph; and, indeed, every body. It was nine o’clock — two hours beyond his long-accustomed time of going there — before the alderman could determine to go to the Wheat Sheaf. He had fully expected Mr. Pevensey to accompany him that night ; but as Gilbert never once alluded to it, and was so deeply absorbed in conversation with the scholar; above all, as it would be so impolite to leave his learned guest, as it were, deserted, Mr. Ralph himself begged Mr. Pevensey to remain where there was evidently so much that was interesting and attractive, and went alone to the Wheat Sheaf. ALDERMAN RALPH. So CHAPTER V. The Fourth Evening restores us, once more, to the Wheat Sheaf parlour; and transfers us, next, to Mr. Mayor Nicky’s. Another step in the Conspiracy. The neighbourly company at the Wheat Sheaf was complete, with the exception of its most valued member, Alderman Ralph Trueman, an hour before he joined it. Every one regretted that questions of party should be introduced there; but all agreed that the introduction of them was unavoidable at this most im- portant Willowacre crisis. They had never expected to live to see it. But it had come; and they could not affect to ignore it. The conversation must turn upon it, in that dear peaceful old Wheat Sheaf parlour, as it did in every other part of the town. And so all the circumstances of if were recounted, and all the steps which had so unexpectedly led to it were traced, till they reached back to the first appearance of Gregory Markpence in that parlour; and then the old wonderment began anew. “ I would freely give ten pound this night,” said the rich miller, “ if we could know what it really was that brought that man here so unaccountably.” “ And I would as freely add another ten pound to it,” declared the wealthy butcher. “ I have thought it over and over again,” declared the town- clerk, “ but I protest I am as far from comprehending it as ever.” “ I have seen many strange things in my time, neighbours, — east, west, north, and south,” observed the ancient mariner; “ but that man’s visit here is the strangest thing I ever knew.” “ I am sure it is the strangest thing that ever happened in this parlour,” said Jerry Dimple; “and I must confess I thought it boded no good at the time.” 86 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ Well, they say good often comes out of evil,” said the little apothecary; “just as health results from the ripening of disease. Let us hope for the best. We have arrived at one step, at any rate, which looks promising.” “ You mean the appointment received by the learned doctor, this morning, at the meeting of council, I presume, Mr. Pound- small,” said the town-clerk, with a polite inclination of his head. “ I do, sir,” answered Mr. G-ervase ; “ and I feel that the duties which devolve on the committee, of which I had the honour to be chosen a member, will be very weighty.” “I have the same feeling, exactly,” said honest Jerry Dimple; “ and I wish in my heart that some member of the council had been chosen in my stead, better qualified to discharge such duties than I can possibly be.” The worthy landlord looked towards Hugh Plombline as he uttered these words; but Hugh never spoke. Indeed it was remembered that he had taken no part in the conversation during the full half hour he had been in the room. There was now a general silence, and a feeling of uneasiness. The town- clerk resolved to break through it, by changing the subject. “ Our respected friend, the senior alderman, is most unusually late to-night,” he observed, looking earnestly at the parlour clock, and also at his watch ; “ but I suppose he will be delayed by his guest, for I learned that Dr. Dingyleaf returns from Meadow- beck to-night.” “ Or, perhaps,” suggested Mr. Poundsmall, “ Mr. Palph has walked up to Mr. Pevensey’s, with the intent to bring him here, and introduce him to the parlour, to-night.” “ May I be allowed, since Mr. Pevensey’s name has been mentioned,” suddenly began Hugh Plombline, and in a voice and manner which, although they could not be called positively ill-natured, yet were felt to be disagreeable, “ to propose the name of a gentleman — of a person — of one holding a very high and responsible situation — that is to say, office — in this borough — one ALDERMAN RALPH. 87 whose name, I think, should not have been overlooked so long — in short, his Worship the Mayor for the present year?” “ He is a very young member of the corporation,” observed Mark Siftall, after the company had looked round upon each other in silence for some time. “ Yes; and has only been two years on the bench,” observed Diggory Cleavewell. Mr. Gervase Poundsmall took snuff very eagerly; Peter Weatherwake was bothered with his pipe, which stupidly refused to draw; Jerry Dimple suddenly believed he was wanted in the next room; and Mr. Pomponius Pratewell, after looking very reflective for a minute or more, said, “ If I might offer an opinion to Mr. Plombline, it would be one which, I trust, he would receive as kindly as it would be offered.” “ Oh ! I don’t wish to push any friend of mine, however re- spectable he may be, into this parlour — or indeed, into any other place — where his presence would be objected to,” said Hugh Plombline, quite in his usual Wheat Sheaf parlour manner. “ The very advice I was about to be so presumptuous as to offer,” said the town-clerk. “ There may be objections I can well understand,” added Plombline, glancing at the miller and butcher, who, he knew, had both lent considerable monies to little Hicky, “ which gentlemen may have, and yet it may not be agreeable to name them.” “ Very shrewdly said, Mr. Plombline,” observed Mark Siftall. “ Yes, very sensibly observed,” added Diggory Cleavewell. Peter W eatherwake had begun to express his vast pleasure that he had, once more, got his pipe to draw, when Mr. Ralph joined his old companions, and was received by them in their usually hearty manner. Hugh Plombline had thrown away his estrangement, or appeared to have thrown it away, and shook Mr. Ralph by the hand, and smiled in his face, as genially as the rest. Yet he did not remain long in the parlour after Mr. Ralph entered. Some surprise was expressed when he rose to go; but 88 ALDERMAN RALPH. his apology was so handsomely tendered that it was cordially accepted. The conversation took its old friendly character for the remainder of the evening. Mr. Ralph apologised for the non- appearance in that parlour, as yet, of Mr. Gilbert Pevensey; assured the company that he would prove a great accession when he did appear; and described the singular tact he had that night displayed, in drawing out the extraordinary mental stores of the learned Dingyleaf. Mr. Ralph’s announcement that the great scholar would require the presence of the committee, to enable him to commence his investigations, the next morning at ten o’clock, was received with great welcome ; and the talk was kept up with spirit till the old canonical time, when the chimes rang out “ The old woman a-quaking.” Hugh Plombline had gone direct from the Wheat Sheaf, after shaking hands so cordially with his old friends, to the house of Mr. Mayor Backstitch. “ Well, I proposed you,” he began, so soon as they had shut out listeners, should there have chanced to be any; “ but it turned out as I expected it would- — a cool rejection.” Mr. Nicholas bit his nails, and scrutinised his friend’s face, without speaking. “ Nay, don’t ask me what this man said, or what the other said,” deprecated Plombline, in anticipation of little Nicky’s questions ; “ in one word, you know who is all-powerful in the Wheat Sheaf parlour. I need say no more.” Backstitch inwardly cursed Alderman Trueman; and yet Mr. Ralph was utterly uncognisant of Plombline’s proposition, not only at that moment, but for many days after. “ Comfort yourself with one assurance,” continued the master- builder ; “ I told them at once, when I saw they were determined against inviting you, that I considered my friend too respectable to be pushed upon them, against their will. I did that. And I can assure you they winced. I saw that clearly.” “ That is some consolation,” granted little Nicky, though he ALDERMAN RALPH. 89 looked any thing but full of it : “ perhaps they’ll think it over again.” “ I came away on purpose, that they might have a fair oppor- tunity of doing so,” said Plombline ; “ hut it is not to he expected that they will reverse their haughty sentence at once. You know a certain person too well to he ignorant of his dogheaded way of ‘ keeping his word,’ as he calls it. Let it work ! Say you not one word about it, and they may introduce the matter again, of their own accord. But if they see you are mortified ” — “ Oh, not I ! ” cried little Nicky, contemptuously : “ the fact is, that I care nothing about it. Our company is every way respectable at the Bed Lion. I am sure I should offend some of my very best customers if I were to leave it. An occasional seat in the Wheat Sheaf parlour is of no value to me, that I know of; only one does not like to be blackballed, as they call it.” “No, no! of course, it is not pleasant. But we shall have many unpleasant things to bear until we can check this man’s influence.” “ Yes; I am aware of that.” “ Now it strikes me, that this new committee offers one of the finest foundations for raising a scheme to humble him.” “ How? what do you mean?” “ Can’t you guess?” Little Nicky tried to look as crafty as Hugh Plombline;. but shook his head, and gave it up. “ I don’t see what I 6an do,” he said ; “ and you know I shall stand by myself on the committee.” “ But why should you ? Now, just mark me. Send an apology to the town-clerk to-morrow morning. Be out, or ill, or what you like. Say that you desire the business to be put off for a few days.” “ But they would not put it off for me : they would enter on it without me.” “ If they dare to do that, then you have ground of complaint 90 ALDERMAN RALPH. at once. Nothing could be more to our advantage. But I don’t believe they would dare to do that.” “ Well, suppose they do, or do not : what then? What do you propose?” “ Why, simply, at the next meeting of council — which you know will be in a few days — that you yourself propose I be added to the committee ; and then we can work together.” “But what can we do?” asked little Nicky, dubiously. “We must see what there is to be done first,” answered Plombline ; “ some opportunity cannot fail to arise, in a matter so new, of mortifying the great man, by thwarting his wishes in some way or other.” “ Why, yes,” said Backstitch, thoughtfully ; “ I dare say you are right. Indeed, I feel sure you are; and then it is not only necessary that there should be more than one of us in the com- mittee, that one may back the other up, but two pair of eyes would be more useful than one pair, in discerning just the fittest place to pick a hole in this fellow’s coat.” “Capital!” said Plombline, with a low husky laugh; “I’m glad you begin to see things in the proper light.” “ But I don’t see every thing in your light,” said Nicky ; “I can’t understand by what argument, or upon what plea, I am to urge your election for the committee. You know your name was mentioned at the council.” “ Hear me. This will be a very different case altogether. You decline attending this committee for the present; and then respectfully — you understand? respectfully — suggest to the council, that since other unavoidable absences may take place, and the committee is small, you propose that an addition be made to its number, in order to secure the attendance of a number competent to assist Dr. Dingyleaf, the business being, in your conception, so very important. That will be a bait for the great man, who believes this business to be so very important. You can then observe that there was a member of the bench mentioned at the last meeting of council, and you again take the liberty to ALDERMAN RALPH. 91 recommend him. J erry Dimple is sure to second you instantly, and I shall be carried at once.” “ Do you think so?” said Nicky. “Why, I take it they will not raise a personal quarrel upon it.” “ Why, no ; I should hardly think they would. And yet, if they reject you when you are proposed a second time — not as a substitute for another, but substantially, and for your own merits — it will look like a determination to make it a personal quarrel, will it not?” “ Exactly. And, if they dare to act in that manner, leave the result to me. I’ll make them repent it; or I’m very much mistaken.” “Well, I will not absolutely promise you,” said the mayor, in conclusion; “ but I must confess I like your idea; and I think it most likely you will learn that I am not at the meeting of the committee to-morrow,” 92 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER VI. The Second Book of this History concludes with a very remarkable Chapter, — seeing that it puts some of our chief Characters to bed, details one singular Conversation, and rehearses what might have made a whole Pamphlet of Soliloquies. Soliloquies : a word which indicates that the writer of this history knows what the actors therein thought, as well as how they talked, and what they did. And who doubts that he knows so much'? Would the doubter dare to question that Shakspeare knew what Hamlet or Macbeth thought? or that Milton knew what Satan thought even before the arch-tempter saw our grandfather Adam, and grandmother Eve? or that he knew what the first pair talked of in Paradise? How so much can be known is a secret to the initiated ; and let no one imagine that I shall gratify the prurient curiosity of these doubting times, by revealing it. Ask the “ rapping spirits” — if you have no objection to be humgudgeoned. If you wish to learn the secret truly, enter on a path which, I forewarn you, is a path of thorns — Become an author yourself! Neither of the conspirators slept very well that night. It was not remorse or repentance which rendered them sleepless; but the busy reasoning of themselves into bitter discontent. Hugh Plombline thus reasoned : — “ The refitting up of the bridge — most likely with some improvements — would have been the best job I have ever had in Willowacre. And yet Trueman, who has always professed to be my friend, and whom I have met every night in a friendly way these twenty years past, would not allow any request to be made to Sir Nigel Nickem, whereby I might have secured the job ALDERMAN RALPH. 93 from the baronet ; nor would he permit the bridge to be repaired by the corporation, of whom I should have been sure to obtain the work. And now it must go to a stranger ; for Sir Nigel, when he learns that they are intent on contesting his sole proprietorship, will spite me, and every other member of the corporation. “ And then, poor dumpling-headed J erry Dimple was to be placed on this committee instead of me ! "Well, well: if I can only get this little fool and knave, Nicky Backstitch, to do what I wish him to do — and I think he’s sore enough to do it — at least, I’ve increased his sore to- night — I don’t despair yet of giving things a turn. At any rate, I’ll try.” And thus argued with himself the little Mayor Nicky : — “ Why did they mock me by electing me an alderman ? and why did they give me the mayoralty in my turn? They might have passed me by. People have been passed by in Willowacre before now, though not many. But it would have been hand- somer to pass me by, than to insult me now they have given me the chief office. I was right, perfectly right, in calling the corporation together, although the hour was so very early. If the time was inconvenient to them, it was equally so to me — for, I should think, I have as much right to enjoy my bed in a morning as the big senior alderman, as lofty and lordly as he is ! And then I must be snapped up and browbeaten by him ! If any of us had dared to treat him with neglect in the years of his mayoralty — Od’s, needles and thimbles ! — there would have been a noise about it ! “ I’ll not go to the committee-meeting — that I won’t ! Plombline’s idea’s a good one. And yet he’s a crafty, double- faced wretch. I can see that — though he does not think I do. I smell the cause of his spite against Trueman. Trueman showed no disposition to help him to the job of repairing the bridge, either in one way or another. That’s it. He’s a covetous, griping fellow ; and as hollow-hearted as he is greedy ! I must 94 ALDERMAN RALPH, keep an eye on him, even if lie gets into the committee. He should not gain much by undertaking the bridge job, if I had the ordering of it. But he’s not likely to get it, as things stand now. I wonder what will come out of this strange state of things, and what it could be that led the toll-keeper to go to the Wheat Sheaf — for it has all arisen out of that ! But why was not he, or why am not I, or any other man in the whole land that can pay for his liquor, to go into the Wheat Sheaf parlour? Oh, good gracious, no ! the great man sits there ! “Well; I’ll not go to-morrow. I’ll put them into Queer Street a bit. I am the mayor; and I’ll let them see it — as much as they despise me ! ” How happily the goodly alderman slumbered ! Gladness that he had provided for the poor widow, pride in the excellences of his darling niece, and expectation of the great results from Dingyleaf’s investigations, with a heart of good-will and friend- ship towards ail mankind, brought him quiet sleep and pleasing dreams. And May slept happily, blessing her fond uncle, and chiding her heart, only very gently, as she closed her beautiful eyes, for thinking so much about Gilbert Pevensey. Edgar Tichborne was longer wakeful; and when he slept, dreamt that he was in great doubt whether he should not resign all thoughts of May, save as a dear friend, and devote himself to the young lady who had more mind. Gilbert assured himself, ere he yielded to oblivion, that May was the sweetest little girl in the world, and hoped one day to see her moving about Lovesoup house, exercising the duties of a happy wife. And Alice closed her eye s with the kindly resolve to win Edgar from what she discerned to be his hopeless passion for May Silverton, and to afford him every proper opportunity for making another choice, in which she was determined, if she could help it, he should not be dis- appointed. Dingyleaf of the four pronomina did not sleep half the night. It was not the grand search, on which he expected to enter on ALDERMAN RALPH. 95 tlie morrow, that kept him awake. He was wondering whether May Silverton looked as beautiful in slumber as when he first met her soft dark eyes, and she filled him with emotions so new and delicious ; and how it was that no sample of womankind had ever affected him so before; and whether it was philosophical and scholar like that he, now forty years old., should indulge a dream about a young beautiful creature but yet in her teens; and whether the possession of such a treasure was not of more value than all his profound knowledge of classics and commenta- tors; and whether, since society had done nothing for him, he should not do something for himself, — sue for May’s hand from her uncle, and, if refused, take possession of it. But as he solved none of his own problems, we will leave him. The merry-makers of Willowacre have had their frolic out, have gone home to their beds, and every inn and hostel in the borough is closed. The ancient little town is as still as it has been from time immemorable. The six grave watchmen are stepping slowly on through the streets, bearing their bright bills on shoulder ; and save, when they proclaim the hour of the early morning, you might hear a mouse creep. It is two o’clock, and Jack Jigg’stoils being concluded for the time, he has just reached the bridge on his way home to Meadow- beck. J ack has turned the honest penny excellently well among the merry-makers; but his conscience gives him a twinge as he sees the light in the toll-house. He must call in, for he dare not give the signal to yoipag Margery, now her father is at home, as Jack guesses Gregory will be. But the half-crown lies heavily on J ack’s mind, now the heyday feeling of frolic is over. And yet the burthen of his large family lies there as heavily. “ Brat it!” thinks honest Jack; “ it wasn’t fair to trick him out of his money, though I enjoyed the joke; and he’s a hard, niggardly old hunks, that deserves to he diddled now and then. More especially since he thinks himself so deep. There’s nothing like tricking your very sharp folks occasionally, if you wish to take the conceit out of ’em. Let me see — as the blind man said 96 ALDERMAN RALPH. in the dark. Two-and-sixpence at the Loggerheads, I had to begin with; eighteenpence, at the Silent Woman — I should have made more there, if old Nykin Noddlepate had not been there before me ; but there’s opposition in all trades, as the maggots said when the rats came to worry the dead dog; two-and-two- pence at the Barley Mow; and one-and-elevenpence at the Salmon and Lobster. So that I have just eight shillings and a penny in my pocket. Now, if I give him his half-crown back, I shall have five shillings and sevenpence left. But then I shall earn nothing more to-day, and perhaps not to-morrow. I can ill spare him the half-crown. Seven mouths to fill, besides my own and my wife’s : seven backs — or rather, nine — to clothe ; and rent and tax to pay. Hard cheese — as they say when they eat Suffolk whang ! Suppose I do him a good turn for it, at any time and as often as I can, instead? Well: I can’t stand bothering here. I’ll see what kind of humour he’s in, and then make up my mind what I shall do ;” and Jack knocked stoutly at the door of the toll-house. “ Who’s there?” asked Margery, as Jack knew she would, and opened the door as soon as he told his name. “ What d’ye want?” she asked, affecting surpiise, while she thrust a letter into J ack’s hand, and he quickly hid it. “ Oh ! I only thought I would just ask your father how he was, before I went home,” said Jack. “ I almost wonder thou hast the impudence to ask,” growled Gregory Markpence, throwing back a curtain, and rolling off the bed whereon he had lain without undressing himself “ Why, you didn’t think I meant to keep your half-crown, did ye?” said Jack. “To be sure I did,” answered Gregory; “and think so still. But never mind it. Just come in a bit. I want a word with ye. Margery, you may go to bed. I shall not lie down again, now.” Margery withdrew up-stairs, bidding her gruff father “ good- morning,” in an affectionate tone ; and casting an anxious look at ALDERMAN RALPH. 97 Jack, who returned it with one that was meant to assure her that she might trust in him. “ Sit ye down,” began Gregory, pointing Jack to a chair ; “ and say no more about the half-crown. I did not like your trick in the churchyard. But I was only a fool to be frightened; and you did me a good service afterwards, and we cried ‘ Quits’ you know; and so there’s an end of it.” “ It’s very kind of you, Mr. Markpence,” said Jack : “ I find it a hard pull to get through life, but I’ll give you the money back, if ye ” “ Do you take me, now, for a bigger fool than I am'? You want to keep it all the while you are denying it. Don’t provoke me with your pretences; for I am not blessed with the best of tempers. Be quiet [ I want to ask you a question. Do ye know young farmer Jipps of your village?” “ Of course I do,” answered J ack, feeling apprehensive, and remembering Margery’s glance, as she went up-stairs. “ Why, yes : you know every body ‘ of course,’ little and big, in Meadowbeck. But I don’t mean that. Do you know him well?” “ I know him to be a very sober, industrious, young farmer, and one that, I believe, has very good prospects in life.” “ Ugh! sober you say. But he’s, may be, a bit rakish among the wenches?” “ I don’t believe he has the slightest fault that way, Mr. Markpence. I never heard his name mentioned in such a way ; and I should be sure to hear of it, if he had any habits of that kind. Such matters are seldom kept secret, you know.” “ Not unless a young fellow be very sly.” Gregory looked so over-cunning when he said this, winking one of his gloomy eyes, that Jack, whose sense of the ludicrous was very tickle, had nearly burst out a-laughing. “ Sly may be sly once or twice,” he said, as gravely as he could; “ but you know sly can’t be sly always, in such matters.” “Why, that’s very true,” granted Gregory, sapiently; “but come now, Jack : you are a father, though you have not a girl VOL. I. H 98 ALDERMAN RALPH, as old as mine, and you must know something of a fathers anxieties.” “ And pretty heavy ones mine are, I’ll assure ye. Well — go on, Mr. Markpence.” “ You’ll consider what I’m going to say as only passing between ourselves, Ji gg?” “ I shall — as passing only between ourselves. You may depend upon that, Mr. Markpence.” “Well: I’ve noticed this young farmer Jipps colour up and smile as he came through the toll-gate, when our Margery has been at the door; and I’ve observed that she blushed like scarlet” — “ So-ho !” cried Jack, in a low tone, making an arch grimace, and pretending to be greatly surprised ; “ all that looks suspicious, doesn’t it'?” “ Why, yes ; but I hope, from what you’ve said of the young chap, that there’s nothing wrong in his intention. Another thing I don’t so well like. Whenever she has been allowed to go out lately, she has stayed three or four hours at a time; and looked any thing but happy for a whole day after.” Jack now looked as thoughtful as he really was; but still he did not like to alarm Gregory. “ Hum! — perhaps you scolded her?” said Jack. “ No : not more than usual. But, you know, I’m always scolding,” replied Gregory, with a grim smile ; “ it’s the nature o’ me. I can’t help it. But now, as I know you can ferret things out better than most folk, and you are a good deal among young lads and lasses, will you try to get to know whether there be any real acquaintance between these two, and how it is kept up?” “ I will,” said Jack, quickly ; “ you may take my word for it.” “I don’t say that I should have any objection — you understand? if the young fellow means to be honourable. And though I don’t farm fifty acres, Jigg, my daughter will not be a beggar, ALDERMAN RALPH. 99 I hope — but we’ll say no more about that at present. You promise me that you’ll ferret this out, and tell me all about it?” “ I will — I will, solemnly,” answered J ack. ec Well, then, good-morning to ye ! for I reckon you’ll want to be getting homeward,” said Gregory. The fiddler withdrew, pondering as he went along on the words “ three or four hours at a time,” and “looking anything but happy for a whole day after.” “ What a world of slyness there is in these women gear ! ” thought Jack to himself. “ I know she never gives young Jonathan more than half an hour of her company at a time, and says she durst not stay out more than an hour; and I know, besides, that he always meets her not far from her own home. Where does she spend these three other hours ? I must fathom it, by hook or by crook. She’s after something she shouldn’t be, or she wouldn’t look miserable, as her father says. Yet, she’s a feat wench. J onathan shall not be trepanned by her, however. He’s a good honest-meaning lad, and he shall not be deceived by any fair- faced young hussey in the world, if I can prevent it. I’ll ask him a few particular questions, when I give him her letter — but I must mind how I go about it.” Thus honest Jack went on thinking till he reached Meadowbeck. Gregory Markpence stirred the fire, and sat thinking, after his own fashion : — “ I don’t know how it is; but I feel strangely restless and uneasy ever since this botherment began. If I am pushed out of the old toll-house for it — why, so be it. But I know not how I should settle down to any thing else. I could not bow and cringe for a living, as some folks do. I have a little money; but I should hardly know how to make the best of it. How, if this young fellow and the lass were to make a match of it — and I know he’s eager by his letters, but I wasn’t a-going to tell Tiddler Jack all I knew — if they made a match of it, what money I have would give ’em a start in a farm ; and I and the old woman could go and live with ’em. I could not bear to live in 00 ALDERMAN RALPH. Willowacre, if I were to be turned out of this house. They would make me miserable — every body would. What, the hang-} ment, did I ever go into that cursed Wheat Sheaf for? What could bring such a maggot into my head? I wish I could tell. As for the pint of ale, I could have got that at the Loggerheads, as usual. They say that every body wonders why the devil I went to the Wheat Sheaf ; but if they knew that I wonder at it myself — my stars! why, there would be more wondering than ever ! ” Sn mjjirjj is inirniranit a imn 3rinr, mjjro tjjinkiags, savings, anil Imiitgs, mill iiiniita lira intart miiji Ilia irnr, llirangjinnl tjjis iistnnj. / ALDERMAN RALPH. 103 BOOK III. CHAPTER I. A very grave and serious Introduction to the Third Book.; but which the Reader can pass over if he be of hasty temperament, since it forms no part of the Thread of our History. The author cannot refrain from charging the great men of the age in which he lives with a most culpable negligence. Had they performed their duty, a little man would not have been left to sigh in secret under a weight which was oppressing his poor bosom from day to day, and from night to night ; and was disturbing his weak digestion and imperfect sleep, until he became a mere scrag of a man, a pitiful personification of misery. And yet, dear sympathising reader, this hath been his case who now casts himself on thy candour and clemency, with a heartfelt consciousness that his task might have been infinitely better performed by some one of our great living historians; and with an unfeigned regret that they should have deemed the subject beneath them. Yes-, that is the true state of the author’s mind; and I make no doubt, discerning reader, that thou hast known it, several chapters ago : that thou hast penetrated my slim disguises and vauntings of ability; hast perceived that I was, as it were, whistling in the dark to keep my courage up ; and that, though I affected to be brave, I dreaded the spectrous difficulties of the task I had undertaken. And have I not a right to complain? For were there not many means at society’s command, by which I might have been 104 ALDERMAN RALPH. delivered from my care and sorrow? Who that has but a few years of age on his head can forget how, when our old, time- honoured borough corporations were about to be swept away with the rude besom of “ Reform,” the wits of that day promised that the skin of a real alderman should be stuffed and kept as an historic memorial in the mummy-room of the British Museum? Faithless wits that they were, their promise was not kept ! If they had kept it, I might have been saved from my torturous sufferings. There would, for me, have been a soothing consolation iri knowing, that future generations would have possessed authentic proof that such a species of the order Bimanci as an alderman did once upon a time exist; and in believing that such a precious relic would move some earnest mind, sooner or later, to make comprehensive search for the true histories of our noble old municipalities, and among the rest for this most valuable history, and for accurate memoirs of him who must take rank as its hero. Do not let any inconsiderate and ill-informed person tell me, that there are aldermen now; and that, if I had made the application in a courteous manner, some one of their living worships would, perhaps, have bequeathed his skin, at death, to the aforementioned mummy-room ; and would have thus, at once and magnanimously, saved me from mental and bodily torture, and served the enduring interests of our great national history. I will not deny that a man might have been found willing to part with his skin when it could no longer be of any use to himself. Far be it from me to accuse the world of universal selfishness. Every body does that; and I am wearied of hearing the calumnious accusation. What I have to affirm is, that such an act of magnanimity from any man now living would be utterly useless. It is too late. That is the serious fact. The race, the true race, of aldermen is extinct. The great people who are called “ aldermen” of London, and the respectable persons who are six-years’ wearers of the title in the country, are no more like the genuine, grand. ALDERMAN RALPH. 105 borough bred-and-bom old aldermen of the ^reformed times, than a tall, stripling, narrow-necked champagne bottle is like a portly Dutch kilderkin. No. I would not have any living gentleman asked for his skin. It would only be a sham. And I give my word and honour to the wives of all worshipful gentlemen, that they may be perfectly easy on my account : I will not ask any one of their husbands to leave his skin when lie dies, as a companion to the heathenish Egyptian mummies in the British Museum. In defect, however, of such a national memorial, which might have stimulated some Alison, Grote, or Macaulay, in the thirtieth century of our era, to write; and in defect, also, of the labours of worthier pens in our own century, I have been compelled to ease my conscience, by producing this book. I could not die easy if, when my solemn moment came, I had to reflect that the world lacked a genuine picture of an alderman, a faithful portraiture of an old English borough and its corporation. I know that some — for a few ill-natured people are always to be found in the world — will be ready to say that, I need not have given myself so much trouble ; that the world would still have continued to turn on its axle, even if I had not written one line of this history. And so, I reply, the world would have continued to revolve, if Columbus had not ventured across the Atlantic, and discovered America; or Newton had not toiled his brains to complete the Principia; or the steam-engine, rail- roads, and the electric telegraph, had never been invented; or Soyer never compounded his best sauce; or Madame Poitevin never ascended the air on a live bull attached to a balloon; or the Phonetic Nuz never been published; or the Marionettes been exhibited ; or Mr. Albert Smith, that “ tremendous brick,” never clomb Mont Blanc and preserved silence about the unique fact ; or any other stupendous and useful and exemplary work had never been performed. A still smaller number of more ill-natured people may, in their verjuice mood, remark, that we have so many excellent histories, 106 ALDERMAN RALPH. monthly or oftener issuing from the press, of young collegians who love bull-dogs and coarseness, of fopling young lords and London and Parisian gamblers, of deep -scheming political ladies and wicked old roues — in a word, of all kinds of veritable, imi- table, and natural personages — that my wwk was not wanted. To the very few ill-natured people who make these remarks, I say not one word. I simply touch my hat, and move away. For I am choleric at times; and if I were to retort upon such exceedingly ill-natured persons, we might get to blows. To avoid that — and because, like Joseph Sturge, Richard Cobden, Elihu Burritt, and all other sensible men, I am in love with universal peace, as a theory — I adopt the “ silent system ” when I am under any very peculiarly strong temptation to strike. Other objections to the judgment which the writer himself places upon this history — namely, that it is one of incalculable value — may arise with some well-meaning and high-minded youth ; and, for his sake, I will anticipate and endeavour to meet them — and then come to an end with this exordium, de- corously. He may say that his tutors have instructed him to study the histories of more ancient and outlandish boroughs, such as those of Athens and Sparta, Corinth, and Thebes, and Platsea, for examples of life and models of conduct. But I put it to his common sense, as an Englishman, whether he does not think that examples and models nearer home may not be studied with greater, or at least, with equal, advantage? Furthermore, he may say that this history is stored with no high heroic instances of valour, that it contains no exciting pictures of battle with sword and spear, no courageous perillings of life i’ th’ imminent deadly breach. But, again, I ask him to what earthly purpose he can turn such examples, in this our tame civilised condition ; if he does not think the heroism of living in this nineteenth century is as great as that of dying in those barbarous ages before our era; and whether he does not feel that a rehearsal of the move- ments of the hearts of English men and women, and of the ALDERMAN RALPH. 107 operation of their thoughts, is not of more value, practical value, to himself, than a narrative of the modes by which old Greeks, of two thousand years ago and more, knocked one another on the head, and all for the love of fatherland? Does the candid youth object, that I place before him a history whose events are on too small a scale, and the scenery of which is too contracted ; and that he can, therefore, gain no enlarge- ment of mind by contemplating them? I answer, that the same objection applies to those very histories which his tutors praise so highly, and whose fitness for his study they so strenu- ously insist upon. What was the love of fatherland, and all the fuss and bustle and interest about it, among the little old Greek boroughs, but the love of a circle of ten, twenty, or thirty miles; or of a hill, or a grove, or a narrow stream, or a bridge; and all the fuss and bustle and interest, thence arising? Of a verity, my history — this most veritable history of the Borough and Corporation of the Borough of Willowacre, and of its illustrious Senior Alderman — will be found to be of the most perfect classic model, in all those respects. Let not the gentle reader, then, be led to disparage his honest author by any vain and frivolous objections, from any quarter, in future. We now proceed to take up the history, not where we left it off in point of time, but a few days later. Forasmuch as it is not the bounden duty of an historian to tell how his characters ate, drank, and slept, coughed or sneezed, walked or talked, every day, hour, or moment, of their mortal lives ; but to tell what they did when they were enacting the history. If the reader will pertinaciously insist on asking how the actors of our chronicle have been living during the last six or seven days, we reply— pretty much like other people. 108 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER II. The Grand Enemy enters the Borough of Willowacre in person: Worshipful Mr. Nicky’s troubles: the Message of State from the Grand Enemy, and how the Council received it. A week had passed, the Guildhall bell was again ringing, and Mr. Mayor Backstitch, who had wondrously recovered from his illness, with the aldermen and common councilmen of the borough, were severally preparing to attend the appointed meet- ing of the corporation, when a travelling carriage and four, with two postilions, dashed over the dismantled bridge, up the Pligh Street, and stopped at the Red Lion inn. In a moment the landlord, Solomon Topple, was at the carriage door, bowing very low, and Sir Nigel Nickem alighted, followed by Lawyer Threap. The landlord ushered them into the Red Lion ; and was immedi- ately told that the baronet would need his best apartments for a week, or it might be for a considerably longer period. Mr. Pomponius Pratewell passed by the inn-door as the horses were being unharnessed, and heard his fellow-townsmen, who had already gathered in a little crowd, telling each other who it was that had arrived, and who was with him. Had not the news of the baronet’s arrival thus reached his ears, the eyes of Mr. Pomponius would have served to convey to his mind the same startling information. A red hand sinister, a goose’s head and neck, crossed carving-knives, with a bare arm brandishing an axe, for a crest, were the heraldic symbols emblazoned on the carriage door, and he knew that those were the Nickem arms. He hastened to the Guildhall, and took his place, after donning his black velvet cloak; the aldermen and common councilmen were soon in their seats, in proper array ; and lastly, in came little ALDERMAN RALPH. 109 Nicky, apparelled in full mayoral costume; and the whole corpo- rate body rose at his entrance, and took their seats again, as he sat down, with their usual formality. His worship was looking pale — very pale; and he trembled visibly. If any member of the council believed in his recent illness, that paleness and tremor might have been attributed to it. But it so happened that not a single person in the hall believed in his worship’s recent illness, any more than did Mr. Nicky himself. He rose to open the meeting; but felt such difficulty in putting a few words together, or rather, in letting them fall disjointedly, that he wished himself, in those few but most miserable moments, out of his mayor’s gown, and unmocked with the honours of the borough. He was glad when he got through his lying apology for not attending the committee ; and then felt an increase of misery as he marked the glances at each other among his hearers, and knew that they did not believe him. He could proceed no further; but sat down in the middle of a sentence, or what was meant for one ; and, instead of peaking his chin above the immense cushion, hid his face behind it. The town-clerk did not rise. He always considered it his duty, as the servant and confidential adviser of the corporate body, to be instant in filling up any little hiatus in the mayoral addresses, when the deficiency arose from want of oratoric skill, or even of intelligence in the speaker. But Mr. Pratewell, although politic, was a man of true honour, and had a strong contempt for baseness in every shape. He reddened deeply, fixed his eyes on the broad council- table, compressed his lips, and resolved he would not utter one word to help the mayor out of this low scrape, whatever it might cost him. Some minutes, that seemed like eternities of torture for Nicky, elapsed ; not a man spoke, coughed, or shuffled his feet ; nor did any man look at another. The senior alderman calmly began : — “ I think no man can call me a bad neighbour,” he said, “ and therefore I do not know why I should have an enemy. I am at peace with all, for aught I know. I trust, then, in speaking my 110 ALDERMAN RALPH. mind to the mayor, he will receive what I say as the well-meant advice of a neighbour and a friend. I do not dispute his right to insist that a committee, of which he is the chairman, should not meet without him. But I think, in a case so unprece- dented and so important as this, he should have been the first to dispense with formalities, and to urge that business should go on without him, if, for some reasons best known to himself, he did not feel disposed to attend this committee. I do not wish him to tell this council why he did not attend the committee. I only request that he will manfully withdraw from it, and let another member of the council be appointed in his stead.” General applause followed this speech ; and yet it contained an unmistakeable avowal that Nicky’s illness was not credited. He was so smitten with shame that he could not speak; and Hugh Plombline knew that he must come to the rescue, or all his hopes would be frustrated. “ I can scarcely suppose, for my own part,” he said, in a very candid tone, “ that the mayor has the slightest wish to withdraw his valuable services from so important a committee” — “ Not the slightest,” gasped little Nicky, feeling it would be easier to support himself on his friend’s crutches than to walk by himself. “ His worship intimates that I am right,” continued Aider- man Plombline, holding up his head, in spite of some significant glances between the senior alderman and others ; “ of course, we can none of us command health at will ; but it will, no doubt, be quite agreeable to the mayor, if he learns that such is the general wish of the council, that this committee pursues its duties in his absence.” “Yes: certainly,” said little Nicky. “ There is another consideration which I think is of moment,” continued Plombline; “and yet it is scarcely for me to suggest that, after what transpired” — and he looked at Jerry Dimple — “ at the last meeting of council. Yet, other members of the committee may be visited by indisposition, and as the committee ALDERMAN RALPH. Ill is small, might not its important labours thus be stayed altogether? — I think it is not for me to say more.” “ I propose that Mr. Alderman Plombline be added to the committee,” said simple-hearted Jerry Dimple. “ I second that,” was heard from two or three members of the council. No one opposed it. Plombline had acted so adroitly, that none had a clear perception of his trickery. The mayor put his name to the vote, and it was carried. He rose immediately, and declared that, although he would not shrink from the weighty duties thus imposed upon him, yet he really had had no personal wish to be elected : he would merely say, that he thought the number of the committee should be doubled, and he would leave the suggestion with the council. This proposition was formally moved by another, was also carried, and the number of the com- mittee made up to ten. Neither Mr. Ralph, nor any of the elder members of the corporation opposed this; for they saw nothing objectionable in it. Again, Plombline was on his legs, urging that the committee should appoint an hour for commencing operations in the afternoon of that day. There was such a show of earnestness in all this, that even Mr. Ralph began to think he had been mistaken in judging that there was some sort of bad understanding between Plombline and the mayor. The hour was about being fixed, when one of the mayor’s attendants passed the hall-keeper, and advanced to the bar, looking earnestly at the town-clerk. The conversation was hushed, and Mr. Prate- well asked what the man wanted. He replied that Lawyer Threap wished to present a note from Sir Nigel Nickem to the council. There was a general acclamation in favour of the note being received ; and Threap was accordingly admitted forthwith. Threap advanced with a slight bow, in which there was as much of defiance as of courtesy, and presented the baronet’s note, intimating that he was commissioned to wait for a verbal answer. The town-clerk read out the contents : — “ Sir Nigel Nickem’s compliments to the mayor and corpora- 112 ALDERMAN RALPH. tion of Willowacre, and politely requests that a deputation of their body be appointed to meet him, at the Red Lion inn, without delay. Sir N. must express his surprise that the cor- poration have taken no steps towards punishing the rioters who have injured the bridge, nor have given orders for the repair of the structure. There may be reasons for this double neglect on the part of the corporation with which Sir N. is unacquainted. Unwilling to commence a litigation which would be expensive to the corporation and inhabitants of Willowacre, Sir N. desires that he may be met by a deputation, in order that explanations may take place, and an amicable arrangement may be entered into.” “ I imagine, Mr. Mayor and brother councillors,” immediately began Hugh Plombline, with a very public-spirited air, “ that this corporation can easily and honourably account for its doings, either to Sir Nigel Nickem, or to a still greater man, if it were required. I, at least, feel no dread of Sir Nigel Nickem, and I am sure none is felt by any around me. The demand of Sir Nigel is somewhat peremptory; but to show the baronet that we are as prompt to defend our acts as we are to enter upon them, I move that the committee of ten which has just been appointed for an important business, to which, in the presence of a stranger, I need not refer, be also appointed as the deputa- tion to meet Sir Nigel Nickem, according to his own request.” “ I second the motion,” cried six of the aldermen, and nearly every common-councilman, at the same instant, and with great earnestness. The mayor took the show of hands, and the vote was declared unanimous; for the senior alderman and a very few others, who would have proposed a different course, if they had had time to think, were carried away by the general feeling which Hugh Plombline had so cleverly raised. " I suppose, then, your worship,” said the town-clerk, bending to the mayor, “ that since there is no remaining business before the council, I may at once declare, in your name, that this meet- ing is closed ; and may also intimate to Mr. Threap that he may ALDERMAN RALPH. 113 say a deputation from this body will wait upon Sir Nigel Nickem, according to the baronet’s request, without delay?” “ Yes : certainly,” answered little Nicky. ' The town-clerk formally announced to the lawyer the decision of the council, and Threap instantly withdrew. “ Beg your pardon, Mr. Town-Clerk ! Before this meeting is dissolved,” said Hugh Plombline, so much emboldened by his success, that he felt as if he could say or do any thing, “ would it not be desirable to name a very early day, perhaps to-morrow, for the reassembly of council, in order that the deputation may report to it?” “ Yes : certainly,” said the little mayor, delighted with the success of his friend. “ Then your worship adjourns this meeting till to-morrow, it is to be understood?” said the town-clerk. “Yes: certainly,” was again the answer. “ The deputation will proceed to the Bed Lion, in costume, I presume?” said Hugh Plombline. “Pooh, nonsense!” exclaimed Alderman Trueman, beginning to feel wearied of Plombline’s officiousness. “ Beg your pardon, sir ! I do not think so,” said Plombline in a tone that might have provoked Mr. Balph, if he had loved a quarrel. “ Well, well : I don’t care about it. I leave it to the mayor,” Mr. Balph only replied carelessly. “Oh, in costume, certainly!” said little Nicky, catching the meaning of his friend’s glance. “ In full costume, your worship ? ” asked the town-clerk, with a satirical look so badly concealed, that Mr. Nicky must have observed it, if his attention had not been greatly absorbed in watching for further signals from Plombline. “ Yes : certainly,” he answered. “Mayor’s officers, this way!” cried the town- clerk, elevating his voice that it might reach the hall-door, while the council were breaking up amidst eager conversation and shuffling of their feet. VOL. i. i 114 ALDERMAN RALPH. Determined to fool Mr. Kicky to the top of his bent, the town-clerk instantly ordered the whole band of attendants to array themselves as if they were about to precede the full corpo- ration to church on mayor’s day, or on some great festival. The men bustled off into the robing-room; and, in a few minutes, stood prepared at the Guildhall door. Mr. Pratewell informed the mayor that all was ready ; his worship descended from be- neath the canopy; and the deputation took its way to the JEted Lion. ALDERMAN RALPH. 115 CHAPTER III. The pomp and style of the Deputation, and their Parley with the Grand Enemy : the declaration of War. It behoveth us to describe the pomp and style, the starch and march, of the deputation, with some exactness. This is our evident duty ; and thus we essay to perform it : — First walked two of the mayor’s attendants, styled “ Sergeants of the Mace,” or a Men of Maintenance.” These wore the Willowacre corporation livery of dark blue faced with red ; but instead of a common hat with a simple gilt-thread band round it, the one wore a huge headpiece of fur of an oval shape, which had been presented to the corporation by the last Richard, as a “ cap of maintenance;” and the other had on a still more ancient and still more dusty disfigurement, of a conical shape, somewhat like a foolscap, save that it lacked the bells. The date at which this “ cap of maintenance ” had been given by regal hand to the corporation of Willowacre, was lost. There was a tradition that it was the gift of the First Edward — the royal “ Longshanks;” and a wild belief prevailed among the vulgar, that it was a present from the unequalled Alfred — so ancient, it was affirmed, was the corporation of Willowacre ! A very large gilt mace, also a gift from the last Richard — the royal “ Crooktback ” — was borne by one sergeant; and a smaller and very handsome silver mace, “ presented” by the second Charles — the “ royal rascal” — but paid for by the corpora- tion, was carried by the other. The second pair of mayor’s attendants ought, it seems, to have been the first in order of procession ; but in the haste with which they were got together, the men neglected to “take 116 ALDERMAN RALPH. precedence.” These also wore the customary livery, with the exception of their hats, which had been exchanged for gilded helmets with waving plumes, the one of black feathers, the other of white. This pair were called the “ mayor s halberdiers,” for they carried very tall partisans or halberds, the heads of which were of polished steel. Behind these two pairs of mayor’s attendants came Mr. Town Clerk, wearing his fringed black velvet cloak, and preserving a grave face with great difficulty. His little worship, Mr. Nicholas Backstitch, u in full costume” — that is to say, with a red velvet tippet added to his black silk gown and gold chain, and carrying his chin almost horizontally, to the hazard of losing his large cocked hat, strutted next. Then came Aldermen Trueman and Siftall, and next Aldermen Poundsmall and Plombline, clad in their white-furred scarlet cloaks. Jerry Dimple, and four other comm on- councillors, in their cloaks of black cloth, followed; and the borough constable, with his cocked hat, and staff in hand, served for a rearguard. Mr. Pomponius Pratewell afterwards confessed to Mr. Ralph, that he could have liked to order out the corporation band — which was composed of a big drum and two little ones, two fifes, six clarionets, one bassoon, and one trumpet — and also to have summoned the six ancient watchmen, with their bills ; but he was afraid there would have been so much delay as to permit the joke to be smelt, and that then the “ full costume” would have been abandoned in a hurry. Gazers stood at every door and window; and the Worshipful Nicholas Backstitch felt very proud of the corporate pomp, in which he was the highest personage, although the lookers-on laughed, some in their sleeves, and some outright, at the obsolete shew . The principal window in the first floor of the Red Lion inn bowed out considerably over the inn-door, and commanded a view of the street up which the antique procession gravely moved. Sir Nigel Nickem having hastily swallowed his wine and biscuit, in expectance of the deputation, stepped restlessly to ALDERMAN RALPH. 117 the bow window, and looked into the street through his quizzing- glass. “ Why, what the devil is all this, Threap? Look here!” he exclaimed ; and the lawyer quickly left his papers on the table, and, with his pen in his hand, sprung to the window. “ Good Lord!” cried the lawyer; “ why, they are coming in their grandest style! It is the deputation, Sir Uigel!” “ The deputation ! hah, ha, ha ! Is that the corporation jester, then, with the big fool’s cap? And what is it that the other fellow wears? Is it a corn measure? Ho, a coal measure, I suppose, as your town here is a river-port. Helmets, by Jove! — Helmets and plumes! But what’s that other thing? A monkey? By my soul, they are a merry set, these corporation grandees! A jester and a monkey!” “ That is not a monkey, but the mayor, Sir Higel” — “ The mayor! what, that little animal with a yard of chin? — He must be some poor tailor, then” — - “ He is a tailor ; and a poor tailor, too.” “ Eh?” said the baronet, dropping his eyeglass, and glancing sharply at the lawyer, as he marked the peculiar emphasis of his reply; “poor? I understand you, Threap. Might be purchased by a little patronage, eh? Thank ye, Threap! But who is this line, burly-looking old fellow in the red cloak?” he asked, plying his quizzing-glass again? “Upon my honour, he would make a splendid yeoman of the guard in a royal procession ! ” “ That’s the real top-sawyer in the corporation. Sir Higel. It is the senior alderman, Mr. Balph Trueman, the rich mercer. His father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, were aldermen before him.” “ By Jove! he might be a nobleman, by the build and gait of him ! ” interrupted the baronet ; " well, now, I should think, a man like that will be reasonable. Lie must have a natural respect for property ; and will not abet these lawless proceedings.” “ Beg your pardon, Sir Higel ! That is just the man most likely to be your enemy. You must mind how you deal with him.” 118 ALDERMAN RALPH. “So!” said Sir Nigel, with a changed look; “I could not have supposed he would prove formidable. But that’s what they all mean to be by this array, no doubt. Spears, by Jove! Why they look as if they were going to war in the Middle Ages. All this is meant to overawe me, I suppose. The stupid asses! Hah, ha, ha! Well, let us sit down and look grave, Threap. They are coming in at the door.” In a few moments, the deputation, headed by the little mayor — for the town-clerk did not carry the joke so far as to march the grotesque heralds of the procession into the room — stood before the baronet. He met them with a great display of politeness; insisted on being presented by the mayor to each member of the deputation, or their being presented to him ; shook hands with every one of them, but most fervently with Mr. Balph ; and, with a vast shew of anxiety for their accommo- dation, entreated them to be seated. He even spoke of the weather, and of the last harvest, for some minutes; and then inquired what was the present state of the shipping interest in Willowacre, expressing great solicitude for its prosperity. Sir Nigel Nickem’s manner and figure were greatly prepossess- ing to a stranger. It was only three years since he had attained his majority, and come into his estate, which had been accumu- lating its worth since the death of his father, which happened when Sir Nigel was a mere child. Acquaintance, not only with fashionable society, but with men of business, had given him opportunities of acquiring tact and address ; and these, with the advantage of a handsome person, rendered him capable of making the most favourable impression upon all with whom he had to do. The reputation of his immense wealth came in over- whelming aid of the combined potency of his speech, features, and figure; and there was not one member of the deputation but felt a degree of restraint, amounting almost to awe, as they sat in the baronet’s presence. The tremulousness and pallor of the worshipful little Nicholas were so manifest, that Sir Nigel, remembering Threap’s hint, ALDERMAN RALPH. 119 strove in every possible way to disembarrass him. Yet, when the baronet made an easy and good-humoured transition to the business which had brought himself and the deputation together, the mayor was utterly unable to answer the opening questions ; and that task had to be undertaken by the town-clerk. “ Well, now, gentlemen,” began Sir Nigel, smiling very winningly, “ about this little naughty affair. I think we shall be able — Mr. Threap attends as my legal adviser, gentlemen, you understand that, I suppose? — I beg pardon for not mentioning that before!” The gentlemen bowed, as they sat in their chairs, expecting the mayor to say “Pray don't, Sir Nigel!” — or something or other; but Nicky could not speak. “ I feel assured we shall be able,” continued the baronet, “ to arrange this little unlucky affair in a very agreeable way ; and that I shall have the high pleasure, gentlemen, of forming a better acquaintance with you all ; and, let me say also, with the good old town of Willowacre. Mr. Mayor, I hope I shall hear you say that I am not mistaken.” Poor little Nicky! he was absolutely speechless, and had but just presence of mind to look for pity towards the town-clerk. A few more seconds would have rendered him so ludicrous in the eyes of the young baronet, that he must have been sent into a swoon by a burst of laughter from Sir Nigel. The town-clerk summoned resolution, just in time to save Backstitch from utter confusion and dismay. “As the servant and legal adviser of the corporation, Sir Nigel,” began Mr. Pomponius, somewhat timorously at first, but strengthening in courage as he proceeded, “ I beg to observe, in answer to the complaints of their neglect expressed in your note, which I hold in my hand, that prompt inquiry was made respecting the persons who injured the bridge ; but they could not be identified. And, with regard to the repair of the structure, since you claim sole property in it, the corporation did not deem it proper, under existing circumstances, to order its repair.” 120 ALDERMAN RALPH. The young baronet, utterly ignorant that his family’s claim to the entire ownership of the bridge had ever been questioned, gazed at the town-clerk with real amazement. “Claim sole property in it! Under existing circumstances!” he repeated ; “ what am I to understand by such phrases, sir?” “ Of course, sir, you know that the claim of your family to the sole proprietorship of the bridge has always been esteemed questionable by the corporation of Willowacre, and indeed by the whole body of the inhabitants ! ” answered Mr. Pomponius. “ Of course, sir, I know no such thing,” retorted the baronet, quite forgetful of his assumed suavity; “ what trumpery conceit is this? and how has it arisen?” “No trumpery conceit, Sir Nigel,” broke forth Mr. Ralph in a loud tone, fired by this contemptuous challenge on his darling subject; “we may be in a position before long to show you that it is no conceit at all. But,” he concluded, checking himself, “ I do not think that this is the proper occasion for discussing that subject. You will undoubtedly hear from us, at some future time, on that point.” “ But am I to understand that this is really the reason why you never considered it necessary to give orders for repairing the bridge? why, you never so much as gave it a thought ? ” demanded Sir Nigel Nickem. “I may perhaps be allowed to say, that the repair of the bridge by the corporation, was suggested as a proper step,” said Plombline, who felt that he must not be dumb, if he meant to do any thing on his own account. “ Yes : certainly,” ventured his worship. “ It was suggested by yourself, Mr. Plombline,” said Alderman Ralph ; “ but you know that not a single member of the corpo- ration agreed with you.” “ Oh, I thank you, Mr. Mayor ! I thank you, Mr. Alderman Plombline!” said Sir Nigel, looking at one and the other, and keenly discerning that neither of them was incorruptible. ALDERMAN RALPH. 121 “ I do not know what you have to thank them for, Sir Nigel,” bluntly observed the senior alderman. Sir Nigel gave Mr. Ralph a well-bred stare; and observed that he did not know he ought to be prescribed courtesies by even so respectable a personage as the senior alderman of the corpora- tion of Willowacre. Mr. Ralph was warm, and was about to give a warm reply ; but he caught a deprecating glance from the town-clerk, and at the same time saw that Sir Nigel’s attention was occupied with something written on a slip of paper, which Lawyer Threap had just given to his new client. Sir Nigel’s colour went and came, quickly, as he read the paper; and, crumpling it up in his hand, he erected himself haughtily in his chair and said — “ I do not think this interview need be prolonged, gentlemen. I scarcely deem it consistent with my station to reason with persons who screen lawless depredators on property.” “I shall not stay in the company of Sir Nigel Nickem, to hear observations of that kind,” said Mr. Ralph, rising in great heat. “ Nor I,” said Mark Siftall, who rose at the same time, as did also Gervase Poundsmall and Jerry Dimple. “ I may perhaps be allowed to observe, Sir Nigel,” said Hugh Plombline, “ that I think it should not be at once concluded the corporation — or rather the magistrates of the borough — have the slightest wish to protect the persons who have injured the bridge, because they have not yet succeeded in discovering the depre- dators. I i have no doubt that the' inquiry for them will be resumed.” “ Yes : certainly ” chimed in little Nicky. " I thank you for your good-will, and I honour your sense of justice, Mr. Mayor and Mr. Alderman Plombline,” returned Sir Nigel ; “ but I must observe that I regret you are exceptions to the — but I will not say more. There is law in England, I am happy in knowing, even for them that protect the lawless. 122 ALDERMAN RALPH. Good-morning, gentleman!” and he bowed haughtily, and went into an adjoining room. The deputation descended the staircase ; and the senior aider- man with his staunch friends separated from Plombline and the mayor, by a tacit but mutual understanding, at the door of the inn. Not one word was spoken about the projected meeting of the committee in the afternoon, or indeed about any other business. ALDERMAN RALPH. 123 CHAPTER IV. The Grand Enemy taketh Counsel with his Prime Minister: understandeth that he hath not understood his Position : layeth aside War for Stratagem. “ Give me some rational explanation of the meaning of your slip of paper/’ said Sir Nigel Nickem to Lawyer Threap, when the deputation had quitted the Red Lion. “ It is a fact that your claim to the sole proprietorship of the bridge over the river Slowflow is questionable; and I am sur- prised that you did not know that/’ replied the lawyer. And then he went on to state that the Trueman family had, for seve- ral generations, agitated the claim of the corporation of Willow- acre to a part of the bridge tolls ; and how Mr. Alderman Ralph would have insisted on an action at law for the recovery of the supposed corporation rights, long before, if the original bridge deed could have been found. Finally, he informed the baronet that the learned Dingyleaf of the four pronomina, had recently brought to light a copy of the deed made by a former town-clerk and a Dingyleaf ; and was now commissioned by the corporation to make search among their archives for the deed itself. Sir Nigel, at first, listened to Threap’s account with serious- ness; but treated it very lightly in the end. “ You don’t imagine that I am to be frightened with this romance about an old missing parchment — missing for well on to two hundred years — do you?” he said. “ Scarcely one hundred and seventy years, Sir Nigel. But it is not said that the parchment has been missing all that time. The bridge was built so long since. But Alderman Trueman maintains that the alderman his grandfather had seen the parch- 124 ALDERMAN RALPH. ment; and now comes this Dr. Dingyleaf, producing a copy of it made by his great-grandfather.” “ Grandfather and great-grandfather ! Hah, ha, ha ! What a ridiculous old world story ! Don’t mock me, Threap. Tell me honestly you think this is all fudge ! ” “ Do you wish me to tell you so, Sir Nigel? or do you wish me to speak honestly? I can’t answer your wish in the way you have put it.” “ That is as much as to say that you think my interest is in danger. I don’t believe it. I don’t believe that, even if this musty old deed could be found, it would serve the corporation at law. My family’s full possession of the bridge ever since it was built must be held, in any court in England, to establish their right of sole property in it.” “ But it is not perfectly clear, Sir Nigel, that your family have all along had full possession of the bridge, or, in other words, re- ceived the entire tollage.” “ Then if it be known that so many years ago — say sixty or eighty, or I don’t care if it be only fifty — my family began to receive the entire tollage, must not there have been some sound reason for it? either a purchase of the corporation claims by my family, or a loan of money to the corporation, and a relinquish- ment of their share of the tollage as a means of liquidating their debt? I will write to town, and have a competent legal opinion upon it.” “ You took a competent legal opinion on another matter, last year, Sir Nigel; and you proved, to your cost, that it was not so good as mine.” They had conversed earnestly," and yet without excitement, hitherto ; but the baronet’s temper was roused by this bold reply of the lawyer. It was a home -thrust he could not bear. “ Beally, Mr. Threap ! ” he said, “ you have a deal of impu- dence to remind me of that ! If I consented to forgive your interference in the Meadowbeck-common affair, you should scarcely have brought it back to my memory, so soon after I ALDERMAN RALPH. 125 had swallowed the affront. If I hire your services, sir, I do not mean to bear your insolence.” “ Sir Nigel Nickem, if you deem what I have said an insult, I most humbly beg your pardon,” said the lawyer ; “ but I did not mean to insult you. I may have expressed myself too bluntly ; for I am but a plain man. Yet, I declare, I had no other feeling at the moment, nor any other intent, than that of wishing to prevent your rushing into an expenditure of money, which would be worse than useless. I think there are ways and means of securing your interest which would be comparatively inexpensive, if you can condescend to employ them. If you remain my client, it will be my pleasure, as it will be my duty, to work for your interest, and to make it triumphant. If you determine to take other courses, contrary to my advice, of course, I shall be blameless.” The young baronet scanned Threap’s face very keenly; remem- bered that a skilful London attorney engaged at a high expense, had been beaten by this Meadowbeck sharp-practiser ; and re- flected, that if such a man really devoted himself to his client, his services could not fail to be valuable. Threap’s local know- ledge, Sir Nigel also reflected, must render him very able to cope with the difficulties of this case; while, if his exertions were thrown into the corporation ranks, he would be a formidable opponent. With these considerations, Sir Nigel, after some minutes’ silence, recommenced the conversation in an altered tone. “Well, Threap, let bygones be bygones,” he said; “consider yourself as my sole and trusty legal adviser; and now tell me what you propose should be done.” “ It may surprise you, Sir Nigel,” answered the lawyer, “ that I propose we should manage our case without going to law. Yet that is what I do advise. Reasons may arise — though we will say nothing about them now — why you should desire to stand high in the favour of the people of this borough. For those reasons, as well as to avoid expense, you should not go to law. You should not carry this bridge-riot into any court; nor 126 ALDERMAN RALPH. in any way anger the people here. Now it so happens that I have learned there is some ill-will commenced among the members of the corporation.” “ This Plombline and the little monkey mayor versus senior alderman and company?” “ That’s it. The mayor has been feigning sick for a week, and thus preventing the meeting of a committee, that was to have inducted Dr. Dingy leaf into his grand search among the borough archives for the bridge deed.” “ Then the search is not begun?” “ It has not been entered upon. This morning the committee was doubled, and they came here in a body.” “ They were the deputation?” “ Yes : I gathered that from a parenthesis in a speech of Plombline while I was in the Guildhall. Now, I think Plomb- line and the mayor are manageable, and — shall I speak?” “ Speak! confound it, go on!” “ By their means the search for the deed might be put off from time to time, till” — “ It should never be begun at all. By Jove, Threap, you’re a general ! ” “ The mayor, as the chief borough magistrate — Plombline is also a magistrate, being an alderman — will also have authority to institute a close inquiry after the depredators. And although — be pleased, Sir Nigel, to hear me without taking offence!” “ I will, you may depend upon it. Go on!” “ And although your last severe speech to the deputation will render the negotiation difficult, I think the corporation may be induced to take the repair of the bridge upon themselves, with- out waiting the issue of a lawsuit ; and the whole affair may end very much to your present, and tend to your future advantage.” “ ’Pon my honour, Threap ! I begin to think you a very clever fellow. Your scheme, in all its ramifications, looks extremely feasible. We’ll try it. That I am decided upon. I suppose it will not damage us in a court of law, if we do wait a few weeks, ALDERMAN RALPH. 127 and have then to commence an action? I mean, supposing we should despair of the negotiation, and the — the — management ? ” “Not at all, Sir Nigel. Now, then, for our first steps — which must be taken at once. Plombline is a master-builder, and a very skilful man, too. He must be promised the work of repairing the bridge ; and, as an earnest, you had better give him orders at once to run up a slight scantling of some kind, to protect passengers in the night, and that may serve till our case is determined relative to the complete repair. You will leave me to transact reed business with him ; and also with the mayor. V/hat the little man will need to move him in the proper direc- tion, I shall be able to make out ; but if you were to — shall I say?” “You are not going to advise me to order a suit of him, Threap? I could not wear his country slops, you know.” “ Why — no,” said Threap ; “ but” — “ Well, well, I see your drift. I’ll give him an order for liveries. Two of the servants are here, and the coachman — that will make three.” “ Just the thing!” said Threap; “ now then you will give the orders, and I will go and commence the real business. What time will it be agreeable to you, Sir Nigel, that I wait upon you to-morrow morning?” “ Oh! you will return and dine with me here, at five, Threap.” “Very highly honoured, Sir Nigel; but I am exceedingly sorry to say, I have most imperative engagements for the entire evening.” “ Why, how the devil shall I be able to get through the day, in this dull hole of a town? Oh, stop, Threap! You know the country about here. Within how many miles is Lovesoup House?” “ Lovesoup House is at the extreme end of the town to that at which you entered, Sir Nigel ; but it is not more than half a mile from the chair in which you sit.” “ There must be some mistake. The place that I mean is a large old mansion, which has very lately been bought and entered 128 ALDERMAN RALPH. upon by Mr. Gilbert Pevensey, an old companion of mine abroad.” “ The very house I have pointed out to you. Mr. Pevensey and his sister are residing there” — “ His sister ! ” — “ Mr. Pevensey and his sister,” Threap repeated, not appearing to notice the baronet’s peculiar look. “ Mr. Pevensey is the largest owner of shipping property we have in Willowacre” — “ You don’t say so! Better and better, Threap. Thank ye, thank ye! Call on me at eleven, to-morrow” — “ Better say nine, Sir Nigel! The corporation meet again at ten; and I might have something to say to you before that time.” “Well: come at your own time. You can see me if I am not up, you know. Good-morning, Threap!” The baronet flung his left hand to the lawyer; but Threap did not care whether it were left or right. He pressed it respectfully, and withdrew with two of his best bows, which were somewhat boorish. Threap took his way to alderman Plombline’s, whispered in the master-builder’s ear that Sir Nigel Nickem would send a message immediately, and a slight repair of the bridge would be ordered; observed that Plombline must expect no mention of any other business by the baronet; but that he, Threap, had particular business to introduce, if Plombline would meet him at a room in the Black Swan privately, say in an hour. To which Plombline agreed. The lawyer next sped on, like a man of business, to the house of Mr. Nicholas Backstitch, and imparted equally pleasing information to the worshipful tailor. Judging that the builder’s conversation with Sir Nigel about the bridge repairs would not be over in less than half an hour, Threap immediately set about probing little Nicky’s sore, and soon learnt its cause. He suc- ceeded so well in the purpose for which he had made this visit, that, before he left Nicky’s house, its tenant had promised every thing he wished. ALDERMAN RALPH. 129 The interview with Hugh Plombline, in the private room at the Black Swan, also resulted most completely according to the lawyers wishes; and, so soon as it was dark, he hastened to dis- charge the “ imperative engagements for the entire evening,” which he had so described to the baronet. We must open a new chapter to show what they were; for the lawyer is a man of business, and his doings must not be shabbily dovetailed into, and obscured by, those of duller people. VOL. I. K 130 ALDERMAN RALPH, CHAPTER V. The legal Man engaged in doubly illegal Business : Peter Weather wake discovers that there is something in the AY ind : the Effects he produced at the Wheat Sheaf. It was a saying of our minstrel, worthy Jack Jigg — and lie is an authority I like to quote, not because he pretended to great original wisdom, but because he was well versed in the standard practical wisdom of our forefathers — that the worst acquaintance you could make in the world was that of a man who wore two faces under one hat. ‘‘Under one hood,” the author is learned enough to know, was the correct ancient text. But Jack’s quotations were so much the more valuable in that he scorned pedantry, and freed the author he quoted from all archaisms and obsolete allusions, and brought home the' force of ancient wisdom to the usages and habits of modern life: an example I wish our University-taught men would follow. Now I regret that I am compelled, by the truth of history, to make my reader acquainted with one whose acquaintance, according to Jack’s borrowed wisdom, he ought to shun; but, on second thought, I will say no more about my regret; for I think it very likely that my reader may say, “This Threap of yours is one of the earthly Januses I meet daily.” The lawyer set off in the direction of the bridge; but, instead of crossing it, turned down a narrow lane which ran along be- hind the wharves for coals and articles of mercantile traffic, which occupied a considerable space on the bank of the Slowflow. Emerging from the lane, he walked along the river-bank for more than a mile, and gained a clump of trees which formed a ALDERMAN RALPH. 131 rude arbour. Here he sat down, and waited anxiously for a quarter of an hour — not aware that there was one near who was curious to know who he was, and what he was about. The old. harbour-master, Peter Weather wake, had a high reputation among the sailors of the little river-port for unerringly discerning when there was “ something in the wind” — a figura- tive phrase which included, among a thousand things pertaining to practical life, a keen scent after contraband liquors and tobacco, and the attempt to smuggle them on shore. Peter had a strong notion that a boat which he watched putting off from the Potterdam trading brig, “ Good Intention,” just at dusk, looked — he could not exactly tell how — but not as she ought to look. “ Queerish,” he afterwards said : and he thought he could not find a better word. Now, the tide being against the boat when Peter saw them loose the painter — that is to say, cast off the rope from the brig which fastened the boat to it; and the windings of the Slowflow being exceedingly serpentine — Peter, affecting to shut up his large glass and to weiid towards the town, darted into the lane behind the wharves, then took a short cut to the clump of trees, which he knew to be a favourite spot for certain obscure transactions, and arrived there full twenty minutes before the boat reached that part of the river. But Peter had not been at the clump five minutes before Threap came thither. Threap could not see Peter, for the ancient mariner never went within the arbour : he had found out a very sly place outside, where he was concealed by a large elder-bush, and where nobody would ever suspect him to be hidden. The plashing of oars struck on the light ears of the old har- bour-master, and soon the boat made for the shore, while Threap gave a low whistle. A sailor jumped on shore, and came up to the arbour. Peter listened with all his might, for it was so dark that he could see little. “ Have you all ready P’ asked the sailor; “ because the sooner we have ’em ashore, the better.” “ I don’t want ’em landing on this side of the river, you know,” 132 ALDERMAN RALPH. said the other; and old Peter was sure that it was a voice he had often heard. “Eh? what d’ye mean, master?” asked the sailor. “Look!” said the other, “don’t ye see that small light on the other side o’ the river ! — There : it’s out now ! — There : it’s in again ! ” “ Well, what o’ that, master?” “ My conveyance is there. Meadowbeck isn’t on this side, you know.” Old Peter had thought the voice was Threap’s a moment before; and now he was sure of it. “ Well, then, jump in, and let’s scull over.” “ Didn’t the captain tell you there was something to put into the boat from this side?” “ Somebody, he said. But I reckon that’s yourself, master.” “]STo, no : I’ve a hamper o’ fish.” “Well, where is it, master?” The lawyer answered with a low animal laugh, which the sailor, from a sympathy of natures, understood as plainly as words. “ Oh, oh, master!” he said; “ d’ye mean that? Then, where is she?” “ I’m waiting for her,” answered Threap ; “ hark ! I thought I heard her. I say, how much of the tobacco, and how many cigars, have you brought?” “ I think there’s a couple of hundred- weights of tobacco ; but not many of the cigars. We must manage the rest another night.” “ It must not be to-morrow night. I shall have to be engaged. Tell the captain I will send him word when I can attend to it.” “You need not trouble yourself,” thought Peter; “I’ll take care that the other part of the tobacco and the remaining cigars are safely brought on shore, if they can be found.” “Brought much o’ the spirits?” asked Threap. “There’s some of each sort. I don’t know exactly; but I think there must be half a dozen kegs in all.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 133 “Hark! here she comes!” There was the cough of a girl, as it seemed to Peter Wea- therwake, repeated several times ; and the old man was all on the alert. Threap sprang to meet her, “ My jewel ! my delicious little creature !” Peter heard Threap exclaim, between the smack of loud kisses. “ I say, master, you make one’s mouth water !” said the sailor. “ Be respectful, my man, if you please ; or I’ll inform your captain,” said Threap, very angrily. “ Oh, no offence, master!” said the sailor. “ I won’t go now you’re angry,” said the female voice ; “ besides, I don’t like to go upon the water at all.” “ Nonsense, my duck! we shall be across the river in a few minutes. Look, yonder’s the light! My gig’s there; and w^e shall be at Meadowbeck in twenty minutes,” said Threap, trying to pull the young woman towards the boat; “go! jump into the boat, my man. I’ll bring her in a moment.” The sailor w r ent down the river-bank, and got into the boat; and now Threap whispered huskily to the young woman, and Peter could not tell what lie said. The young woman said, “ Jonathan will see me, if I go to Meadowbeck” — “ My father will scold me worse than ever;” — and made use of other ex- pressions which were so many mysteries to aged Peter; though he treasured some of them in his memory, with the intent to sift out Threap’s secret, — having a shrewd suspicion that it was not a very honourable or virtuous adventure in which the Meadowbeck lawyer was engaged. Finally, Threap succeeded in persuading the young woman to enter the boat. It was pushed off from the shore. Peter waited till he saw figures passing before the light on the other side of the river; and then began to journey slowly back to Willowacre, pondering on what he had heard, and wishing heartily that, if this were some poor man’s daughter whom Threap was drawing from her home, he could get to the knowledge of who she was, that he might be the means of restoring her to her father. But 134 ALDERMAN RALPH. Peter could not recognise the female voice; and he crossed the threshold of the Wheat Sheaf, and entered the dear old parlour that night with very unwonted sadness. The ancient mariner was an hour beyond his usual time; but noted that the company was not complete when he joined it. Hugh Plombline was not in the parlour. Neither was the mood in which he found the company calculated to restore old Peter’s cheerfulness. “ It is a comfort to see your pipe lighted, as in happy old times, my friend,” said goodly Mr. Ralph ; “ but you do not find us in good spirits, and I cannot compliment you on your happy look.” Weatherwake puffed thoughtfully several times before he replied, and even then judged it better not to uncover the cause of his uneasiness at once. “ Why, Mr. Ralph,” he said, “ you know this voyage of life was never found to be all plain sailing for anybody. There is a deal of traverse, sometimes, in a troublous sense. I try to make it plain sailing myself, as it regards motives and conduct; but every body won’t. And when one sees that where one does not expect it, it is not calculated to make one merry.” “ The very observation I was making before you came in, neighbour Weatherwake,” said Jerry Dimple; “ I always took Hugh Plombline, not only for a very clever man in his line of business; but a very upright and good-hearted man in the general relations of life.” u And what has altered your opinion of himJ” asked the harbour-master. “ We find that he is trafficking with the young titled sprig who came into the town to-day,” answered Mark Siftall, seeing the landlord hesitate, and look as if he were too much hurt to proceed. “ Ay, and with his lawyer — that Meadowbeck shark!” added Diggory Cleavewell. “ Sharks are sometimes caught, although they are queer fish to ALDERMAN RALPH. 135 deal with,” suddenly observed Peter Weather wake, laying down his pipe, folding his arms, and looking round upon the company with a face full of meaning. Every body returned Peter’s look with earnestness, expecting him to go on and develop his meaning. But he took up his pipe, drew at least a dozen puffs solemnly, and gazed fixedly at the fire, making the clock tick very loud, they thought, in the hearing of the rest, before he slowly laid down the pipe again, and went on to explain. “ One, two, three — Mr. Poundsmall makes four,” he began mysteriously; “ four of you are magistrates. Oblige me — some of you, or all of you — by requesting the chief coast-waiter to send a strong band of his assistants by break of day to-morrow — not later — on board the Rotterdam trader, “ Good Intention,” in order to make strict search for contraband tobacco and cigars, and certain kegs of smuggled spirits. They are sure to be found. F urthermore ” — But now Peter retook up his pipe, looked so hard at the fire, and drew so many puffs, that every body looked at the old parlour clock, and wondered what in the name of Patience made it so bold and unmannerly with its tick-tacking ! Yet they did not hear it when Peter again laid down his pipe, and spoke. “ Furthermore,” he continued, but more slowly, and in an important under tone, “ request the chief coast- waiter to despatch half a dozen of his men before daylight— mind, before daylight — wuth a search-warrant to Meadowbeck; and orders not to come away till they have secured two hundred-weight of contra- band tobacco, an unknown number of bundles of cigars, also contraband, and six kegs of smuggled spirits — somewhere, above or below, on the premises of — Lawyer Threap.” Peter Weatherwake instantly seized his pipe, and filled the room wfith smoke as thick as a London November fog, gazing right into the fire as fiercely as if he had resolved to put it out by the superior flash of his own eyes. The rest of the company 136 ALDERMAN RALPH. gazed just a moment, startlingly, on each other, and then made certain demonstrations. “ My eye!” exclaimed Jerry Dimple, and rubbed his hands in a paroxysm of delight. The little apothecary said nothing about his eye; but he rubbed his hands harder than did Jerry Dimple, and chuckled amazingly. The butcher and miller joggled their elbows together, and laughed outright. Mr. Pomponius Pratewell twisted his mouth into a peculiar form, lifted his eyebrows, and glanced with a smile that contained volumes of triumph at the senior alderman. But Mr. Kalpli did not smile. iC Gracious heavens!” he exclaimed, faintly; “and that man, within the last year, has made himself quite respectable! To think that a man with his prospects should foul his fingers with such a dirty business as smuggling ! Why, it will ruin him ; as surely as his name is Threap !” “ The sooner the better!” said Mark Siftall, feeling a degree of vexation with Mr. Ralph’s evident forgetfulness of enmity, in his pity for the lawyer’s folly, and foreboding of the ruinous consequences that must follow it. “ And so I say,” added the wealthy butcher. And so said Mr. Gervase Poundsmall, and the landlord. And these were each and all honest, upright, and, in some degree, generous men — especially Jerry Dimple. It is such a natural first feeling of the heart: joy at the mortification, ruinous error and folly, or prospective downfall, of your enemy, or of one who is leagued with your enemies ! Palph Trueman was not without that first feeling; but he had schooled his heart to attend to his reason; and it was years since any one had seen him manifest the slightest pleasure at the downfall of any man. “ My good friends,” he began, looking round him with a noble and manly benevolence, which increased the general love and respect for him, “ Threap has an aged mother and three sisters dependent on him. He has never married. Some say for that reason ; while others hint that his morals are too loose to permit his inclining to marriage” — ^ ALDERMAN RALPH. 137 Peter Weatherwake laid down his pipe, and wriggled in his chair uneasily; but resolved he would not yield to that temptation which was haunting him to tell all about the other contraband article. “ I know nothing, however ; nor am I aware that any of us know any thing for certain, as to the loose morals of Threap relative to women” — Oh, Peter! what a struggle it cost you to keep the secret just at that moment! “ I take his motives for leading a single life to be what they seem ; and then I am bound to honour him for them. Above all, I must commiserate the fate of his poor mother and sisters, if they be bereft of comfort and support, by his ruin. I have heard that he is a hard man towards the poor; and I know that he has had the power, of late, to make them feel his hardness. One cannot help feeling indignation at such conduct. But I must remember that there is One who is the 6 Judge of the fatherless and the widow; in His holy habitation’ — a sentence of which, you know, we are very often reminded by our good vicar —God bless him!” “ Ay, God bless him!” responded old Peter Weatherwake and Jerry Dimple; and the rest repeated the response. “ I must leave this man, then, to the great and unerring Judge. And if he be my enemy, or be hired to aid them, I must resist the natural feeling — weakness, I should call it — that we all have to rejoice at the ruin that hangs over a foe.” They all sat thoughtfully revolving the good alderman’s words, and thereby deepening their love and admiration for him. There was an unwillingness to break a silence which, they all felt, was doing them so much heart-good. Mr. Pratewell, from a sense of responsibility, spoke first. “ I take upon me to thank you, sir, in the name of this company,” he said, in a tone of the deepest respect, “ for the excellent lesson you have just set before us by your example. I am sure we all honour you, in our very hearts, for it. But I 138 ALDERMAN RALPH. should be guilty of a neglect of duty if I did not remind you, and your brother magistrates here present, that since our respected friend, the harbour-master, has preferred to you a very proper request, you are bound to fulfil it. In my official character, I am bound to state this; if there were no other reasons why I should urge it upon you.” “ Yes,” answered Mr. Ralph — for every body waited for him to answer; “we are bound to fulfil it. I feel it to be painful, considering all the circumstances — but I need not refer to them again. And there is no time to be lost. We must attend to it at once,” he added, firmly. “ I suppose you are of the same mind?” he said, turning to his brother aldermen. “ Yes!” they all answered. The chief coast-waiter was sent for. His commission was given him; and soon after, as the chimes rang out, the company broke up. ALDERMAN RALPH. 139 CHAPTER YI. Gilbert Pevensey’s meeting with an Old Friend: the Friend’s Snare, and how Gilbert falls into it. “ The old woman a- quaking/’ rung out on the chimes at mid- night, did not disturb Sir Nigel Nickem and Mr. Gilbert Peven- sey, in the baronet’s rooms at the Red Lion. Sir Nigel had his own reasons for not calling at Lovesoup House : reasons founded on the presence of Alice there. Pie had sent a note by one of his footmen, to request Mr. Pevensey to call upon him ; but as Gilbert was out on business, the note was not received till a late hour. Yet, even then, Gilbert hastened to join his former friend and fellow-traveller. The meeting of two young men of fortune, who had visited the principal cities of Italy together, but had not seen each other for the past year, was naturally hilarious, and was prolonged far into the morning hours. For some time their old scenes of pleasure were revived, and their joint adventures recounted : conversation of less pleasing interest, but of more concern to both, succeeded. “ So, then, you have come down here in consequence of this bridge riot?” said Gilbert Pevensey. “I have,” replied the baronet ; “ Threap — you remember my account of the fellow who foiled me in the affair of enclosing Meadowbeck Common?” “ And served you right, I believe,” said Gilbert, laughing. “ Why, I suppose, he did. But, you know, it was my London lawyer that misled me.” “ For which you paid him well !” HO ALDERMAN RALPH. “ Nay, don’t laugh at me, Gilbert ! This same Threap sent me word, the other day, that the corporation here were protect- ing the rioters; and urged me to come down at once. And now, to my amazement, I find there is some antediluvian story current here about a deed, or document of some kind, setting forth that the corporation are part proprietors of the bridge, and have a right to part of the tollage. Of course, if the corporation could establish that — and I learn that they have employed a neighbouring wizard to rule the planets for them, and enable them to clo it — why, I take it, I should have to refund three- tenths of the tollage for some scores of years back. A serious affair, you know ! I thought it must be fudge altogether. But Threap assures me it is not. And I am the more inclined to believe him, because he, a lawyer, advises me not to go to law. I am afraid, however, that I have made it very difficult now to effect a compromise. The corporation sent me a deputation this morning, at my own request. But, like a fool, I lost my temper, and dismissed them cavalierly. I wish you had got my note sooner ; for I have been haunted with the blue devils all the day. You see what a hobble I am in?” “ Who were the deputation? Do you know their names?” “ There was the mayor, of course — a queer monkey of a man. But the senior alderman, a fine, burly fellow, seemed the ruler of the roast; and he carried himself loftily, I assure you.” “ You treated him respectfully, I hope?” “ There was my blunder ! It was he that roused my gall ; and I believe it is to him that I have given the deepest offence.” “ I am sorry for that. He is one of the worthiest men living.” “ Do you know him, Gilbert?” “ I do ; and I am sorry — deeply sorry — that you have treated him haughtily.” “ But, my dear fellow, how could I help it? Who could have imagined that such a man would give countenance to the pro- tection of the rioters who broke down the toll-gate and dis- mantled the bridge?” ALDERMAN RALPH. 141 “ Protection ! who can have put such a notion into your head, Nigel? Mr. Trueman is not a man to protect a set of lawless depredators. Nor, I should think, would any member of the corporation protect them. Indeed, I know that an inquiry into the riot has been commenced. The council met in the Guildhall, before daylight of the morning after the riot, and entered upon the inquiry, beginning with an examination of the watchmen and the borough constable” — “ And dismissed them summarily, quashing the inquiry at once.” “You must, surely, have been misinformed. They would never do that. They might not be able to obtain clear evidence from the watchmen and constable ; and so might dismiss them for the time. But I cannot believe they would quash the in- quiry altogether: they could not be so unjust to you, if they believed the bridge to be wholly yours ; and, if they regard it as partly their own, they cannot be so careless of their property as to suffer it to be injured with impunity.” “ I tell you, Gilbert, it is a fact. I had it from Threap in the outset ; but the town-clerk, who was here with the deputation this morn- ing — or rather I should say yesterday morning, for I observe it is three o’clock — the town-clerk sufficiently confirmed it. They have not given themselves the slightest trouble about the matter since the morning you refer to. They have not even taken the common step of offering a reward for the discovery of the depredators.” “ Then, I should think they will do that. I have been from home for the last four days, so that I have heard nothing of the doings of the town in that time. But, I think, when I shall have had opportunity for making inquiry, I shall be in a position to prove to you that you are mistaken, and have been misin- formed, some way or other. “ And if you find that I have not been either mistaken or misinformed, what then, Gilbert?” “ Why, then, I feel bound to say, that I deem you fully justi- fiable in expressing yourself strongly to the corporation respect- ing their neglect.” 142 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ I am happy to hear you say so ; and it is no more than I expected from you.” Gilbert Pevensey did not know the full meaning of that ex- ultant smile which passed over his friend’s countenance while giving utterance to those words. He thought Sir Nigel Nickem, having felt the difficulty of circumstances, the more disagreeable because they were novel, was simply displaying sincere gratifica- tion at the sympathy of a friend. But Sir Nigel’s gratification was founded on a belief that he had now, in effect, pledged Gil- bert to partisanship in that feud with the corporation which he hoped to wage successfully, by the crafty measures Threap had devised. Sir Nigel knew his friend’s disposition too well to unfold these measures to Gilbert. He knew they must be con- cealed from his friend entirely. But while working with secret and vindictive instruments, marshalled by Threap, he judged, from the lawyer’s account of Gilbert’s position in the town of Willowacre, that it would be much to his advantage to have his friend for an open and disinterested auxiliary. “ I suppose Threap would tell you how this bridge riot began ? ” said Pevensey, continuing the conversation. “No, he did not,” replied the baronet; “but I suppose it must have arisen out of a sort of smouldering discontent which the people have felt here, and which seems to have been kept from dying out by the senior alderman and his party, who deny that the bridge is mine.” “ Nothing of the kind,” said Gilbert; “ and you will be amused when I tell you how it did arise.” Gilbert then described, following the story as he had gathered it from Alderman Balph, the several visits of Gregory Mark- pence to the Wheat Sheaf parlour ; the odd kind of consterna- tion felt by the company there, and in the town; and how the hooting of Gregory by the mob, suddenly took the form of an attack upon the bridge. Gilbert defended the people of Willow- acre against the baronet’s ridicule; and maintained that there were conventional prejudices elsewhere, fully as absurd, and ALDERMAN RALPH. 143 much more harmful, than this old borough notion of the Wheat Sheaf parlour, and its respectable exclusiveness. Sir Nigel Nickem scarcely listened to his friend’s disquisition. He was trying to calculate how or whether it would serve his interest to sacrifice the toll-keeper to the party offended. He could not solve the question for himself ; but made a note of it in his mind for Threap’s consideration, and then gave back his attention to the conversation of his friend. “ Well, well, these old borough grandees have their notions of re- spectability,” he said, “ and they are welcome to them. I am sure I do not wish to gainsay them. But you know, Gilbert, it is rather hard that I should suffer for the freaks of any fellow who takes it into his head to disturb the sacred precincts of an inn parlour.” “ That you will not suffer for his freaks, I feel certain,” said Gilbert ; “ I think it only requires a little forbearance on your part, and all will be made right.” “ I pledge you my word I will exercise forbearance. I will not lose my temper again. And I am really sorry, from the character you have given me of the senior alderman, that I did not show him more courtesy. I have already told you that Threap advises me not to commence litigation ; and I have decided to take his advice. All that I desire is an amicable settlement of this affair. And I may add, Gilbert, since you have an important interest in the town, as well as myself, I shall be happy to promote its prosperity, and to increase the comfort of its inhabitants, so far as it lies in my power.” “ I thank you, Nigel, for the compliment to myself; and I think the people of Willowacre ought to be grateful to you. You and they must be brought to a better understanding: you are strangers hitherto. There will be more love between you when you become better acquainted. Come! will you accept my services with the senior alderman?” “ My dear Gilbert,” answered Sir Nigel, grasping the hand of his friend, “ I could not desire a better mediator. Will you really take the trouble?” 144 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ I will. And I will attend to it at once. I will see him, if possible, in the course of the morning” — “ You will not be able. The corporation meet again at ten o’clock.” “ W ell, then, in the afternoon. And that you may know the result as soon as possible, say you will dine with me and my sister at five.” “ I cannot, Gilbert. I must transact business with Threap. I have promised him. He had business which took him away to-day — imperative business, he called it ; and we have positively fixed on the afternoon and evening for full intercommunication on this bridge affair, and all that relates to it. You know I must have a full understanding of it early, that I may get it settled as soon as possible.” “ Then let us say to-morrow for the dinner” — “ My dear Gilbert, you will be kind enough to call on me to- day, will you not ? There is no knowing what may come to pass in this mighty Willowacre when the corporation meets again. Besides, I shall want to hear how you fare as my intercessor with the senior alderman.” Gilbert Pevensey promised to bring early word of his success in the mediation he had undertaken ; and, at five in the morning, the baronet permitted his friend to go home to Lovesoup House, and he himself went to bed. Sir Nigel congratulated himself, ere he slept, that he had so well schooled his eyes to obey his will, as to betray no emotion when Alice was mentioned by her brother; that he had evaded the invitation to dinner so success- fully as to necessitate a future mention of it by Gilbert, when, he knew, the invitation must come from Alice as well as her brother; and that he had laid the foundation of an important auxiliary interest, as already described, for the contest, which he began to fear would not be speedily terminated, with the corpo- ration of Willowacre. ALDERMAN RALPH. 145 CHAPTER VII, Jack Jigg, the fiddler of Meadowbeck, in the characters of Deliverer, and Preacher in his plain Mother-tongue. Whoever hath surveyed the works of great geniuses with a glance directed by humanity as well as skill, must have observed that they often resemble practised anglers, who, when they hook a poor little silly fish, often play with its torture — now giving it line to dart away with the barb in its mouth, and then draw- ing it under the water this way and that, and delaying to bring it to shore — though, all the while, they are intending to deliver it from the hook, and to give it back to its own free, native element. This procedure is so very contrary to true and humane taste, that the present writer cannot descend to pattern by it. He will not violate the truth of his narrative to enjoy the questionable pleasure of keeping his reader in uneasy suspense. If the rehearsal of a deed of deliberate villainy be unwelcome, to describe how the villain was baffled and prevented from consum- mating his heartless wickedness should be proportionably acceptable. Strengthened by this profound moral reflection, we proceed. About the hour at which the baronet and his friend separated, the chief coast-waiter or revenue officer of the little river-port of Willowacre, despatched six of his trusty assistants with a search-warrant to Meadowbeck, reserving the organisation of his force to board the “ Good Intention” till after their departure. The men reached the churchyard of the village in the course of an hour, and were there encountered, like Gregory Markpence on a former time, by our honest friend, Jack Jigg; whose some- what vagrant profession led him forth and brought him homewards VOL. i. L 146 ALDERMAN RALPH. at all liours of the day and night. The sound of many feet mi the slabbed causeway of the burial-yard, did not dispose Jack to uncover his fiddle and try a trick, as before ; but it made him no less curious to know who were the travellers. “ Holloa ! who’s there ?” he cried, having contrived to throw himself in advance of their path. “ Holloa! who are you?’* was the response. “ An honest man, as the times go,” answered Jack, as the men came up with him; “ I hope you can every one say the same.” “ Oh, it’s Fiddler Jack!” said one of the party, recognising him ; “ d’ye reckon that every body’s honest, now, in Meadow- beck, Jack?” “ Hum ! I should answer that question as the devil did the conjurer, who asked him how many honest lawyers he knew in England — here and there, one,” replied the fiddler. “ Is Lawyer Threap one of the lawyers whom the devil spoke of, think ye, Jack?” asked his acquaintance, who knew the fiddler’s humour. “ I have no doubt that his Satanic majesty is well acquainted with our Meadowbeck lawyer,” J ack made answer; “ but I don’t think he particularly referred to Mr. Threap on that occasion.” Tire men laughed ; and J ack, loving that employment with all his heart, joined them. “ W ell, but, J ack,” resumed his friend, “ you are to understand that we are commissioned to make strict inquiry this very morning whether Threap be one of the devil’s scarce birds ; and you must show us the way to his house.” J ack Jigg knew that his friend belonged to the revenue-service, and received this hint with great amazement. “ Threap!” he exclaimed; “you don’t mean that! Threap can’t be dishonest in your line. He is become a gentleman, you know. He would not be such a fool as to meddle with forbidden fruit — at least, not of your sort.” “ Don’t forget your own old text, ‘ Be sure of nothing,’ Jack,” exhorted his friend ; “ I’ve heard you say that a man can’t be ALDERMAN RALPH. 147 sure of lying quiet in liis grave, even when the sexton has covered it up and sodded it.” “ And, I’ll uphold it, that’s true, too,” said Jack; “ and I’ve proved it. I caught Will Scroggs, the old sexton, proggling at my own father’s bones not a year ago, in this very churchyard. He wanted to grub ’em out, and take ’em away, in order to make room for the parson’s wife’s coffin. But I swore, if he didn’t let ’em lie still, I’d tumble him neck over heels into the hole he was standing over, and cover him up for an old murderer of the dead, without judge or jury. And that frightened him — but come along ! I begin to think that Lawyer Threap may be no honester or charier in busying himself with smuggling than he is with the poor’s money. But ‘ least said soonest mended’ — I’ll show you where he lives — come along!” “ Thank ye, J ack,” said his friend ; “ but I must tell you we are accustomed to go slily about the scent after sly game. Let ‘Mum’ be the word, Jack, as we get near the house. We ought to get close up to it, and be able to reconnoitre — you under- stand?” “ Good : I twig ye ! ” replied J ack ; “ and now, al] of ye, follow me exactly ; and I’ll lead you over the soft grass-plot, so that no one shall hear a single footfall; and on the side of the house where there’s no dog.” They had scarcely entered upon the grass-plot, when Jack per- ceived a light glimmer through the shutters of a lower room of the lawyer’s house, and immediately after heard, or thought he heard, a cry within. Jack put back his hand to stay his followers, and stood breathlessly still himself to listen. He was sure, now, that he heard two voices, and one of them sounded like that of a person in distress. Jack rapidly, but softly, approached the window through which the light twinkled, and was followed by the six men, — all of whom, with himself, listened earnestly and intently to these sounds that came upon their amazed ears. “ Be quiet, fool !” said Threap, with hoarse passion — for not only Jack, but several of the men, knew his voice too well to be 148 ALDERMAN RALPH. mistaken; “ I didn’t tliink you had been such a fool. I tell you I’ll make you a lady.” “ I’ll not be quiet,” answered a girl’s voice, which no one knew but Jack, and it made his heart ache and throb till he was fain to support himself, at first, against the window-sill; “ I’ll scream with all my strength if you don’t let me go.” “ Well, then, I’ll let you go; but why need you be afraid of me? Be quiet, now, and be kind” — “ Keep your hands off! you mean me no good. I was silly to believe you. Open the door, and let me go, I say !” “ Why can’t you believe me as well as you believe sleek-faced Jonathan? What can he do for you? His father will soon be bankrupt. I know that; for I’ve all their affairs in my hands. Be kind now, my pretty, and I’ll make you a lady.” “ I wouldn’t be your lady, now I know what you are. I wish I had never been so foolish as to have listened to you. I would sooner go a-begging with J onathan than I would ride in a coach with you. Let me out” — and the girl seemed to have sprung to the door. “Nay, nay, not so fast, my young pigeon! remember your wings are clipped. You can’t fly, you know, without” — “ Hold your hands off!” the girl cried again, and seemed to be struggling with Threap, who was next heard to swear a tremendous oath that he would compass his vile will by force. The girl tried to scream, but Threap, it was clear, was stopping her mouth. “ Now, then,” said Jack, “ let us put an end to this rascal’s game ! ” — and he and the six men thundered at the door and window-shutters, till they made the house shake. The dog on the other side of the house barked vehemently, and no other noise could be heard when the men ceased knocking. For a few moments the dog ceased. “ Who’s there ? ” demanded Threap. “ The coast-waiter’s officers with a search-warrant, to look for tobacco and spirits that you have had smuggled into your house ALDERMAN RALPH. 149 from off the ‘ Good Intention/ Rotterdam trader ” — was the answer. “ And do yon expect to find smuggled tobacco and spirits in my house?” “ Our orders are to search it,” was the reply : “ you know best, Mr. Threap, whether we shall find the contraband goods in it.” “Well, you shall try, if you like. Just wait a minute or two, till I call some of ’em down-stairs. You’ve surprised me. I was busy making out a deed. Be quiet a few minutes. I’ll open the door almost immediately.” His voice receded as he uttered these last words. “ How, I’ll not be seen here,” said Jack to the men ; “ but I’ll not go off the premises.” “ How many doors are there to the house?” asked one of the men. “ Only another,” answered Jack. “ Then, two of us will watch it,” said the man ; and he and another left their companions, and went round the corner of the house to the other door, Jack directing them how to avoid the dog. Jack then retired among the shrubbery, and watched the appearance of the windows, on one side and on another, hoping to see some signs that might guide him to the rescue. He felt amazed at Threap’s cool reply to the coast- waiter’s men; and did not know whether to attribute the coolness to Threap’s in- nocence, or to view it as a feint, and an intent to lull the men until he could get the girl concealed. J ack heard Threap open the door and admit the four men ; and soon after heard him open the other door, and request the two men to come in, and keep their watch inside. “ How,” thought Jack, “that means something. He meant to get her out at that door, if he had not found that the two men were there. He must push her out of a window, now— for I see the women all moving by the lights above— and he durst not keep her in the house to let them see her. She’ll not be willing to stay. Out of a window she’s sure to come ! ” 150 ALDERMAN RALPH. And Jack had not cogitated further before he saw a lower window open, on a side of the house where none could see it who were about the doors. First, Threap’s head appeared, look- ing out ; and then it was withdrawn, and he lifted out the girl, and lowered her on to the grass-plot. J ack had taken his reso- lution, and had hold of the girl in a moment. She was about to scream, but J ack laid his hand on her mouth. “ Don’t betray yourself, Madame Margery ! ” he said ; “ you are safe with me.” The lawyer ground his teeth, and growled an oath. “ Go in, and shut the window, Mr. Threap !” said Jack; “ and try to get as luckily out of the other part of your scrape” — “ You infernal scoundrel! if you blow me” — “ I shall not, Mr. Threap. I shall take the girl and leave her with my wife, while I go and intercede with her father. As for your part of the business, you must settle that with him yourself, you know.” The lawyer looked back, and then suddenly closed the window; and the fiddler, keeping the girl by the hand, sprung forward among the trees; and, so soon as he found that nobody was fol- lowing them, hastened away with her to his own home. Margery, at first, attempted to conceal part of her true story from Jack and his wife. But the fiddler was not to be deceived, and insisted on full confession as the only price at which the fair culprit should have his good offices with her father. “ You have deceived me before, Madge,” he argued, reprov- ingly ; “ making a fool of me in carrying your letters and your pretended love to Jonathan. You have deceived Jonathan — as good a lad as there is breathing under heaven. And you have deceived your father” — ce Oh, don’t be rash with me 1 ” cried the weeper ; “ 1 know I’ve done wrong, and I shall never forgive myself. I never did wrong before, and this will be a warning to me” — “ And it might have been too late to be a warning if I had not been under the window of Threap’s house. You might ALDERMAN RALPH. 151 liave been a ruined woman by this time — you wicked young jade !” — “Oh, don’t — don’t, Mr. Jigg!” “ I’m not Mister Jigg. Call me by my right name, and none of your deception, you young baggage ! Tell me how long you’ve been carrying on this game with this villain of a lawyer; or, instead of helping you to make it up with your father, I’ll take you before a magistrate, and expose you.” “ Oh, have mercy on me ! I never spoke to Lawyer Threap before this day a fortnight ago; and he never offered me any un- civility before to-night.” “ Then, what else did he offer you?” “ He said he would marry me, and make me a lady” — “ Ay, I heard that under the window. And don’t you know, you young fool, that he has made the same promise to scores, and ruined them into the bargain? You ought to go down on your knees every hour of the day, as long you live, and thank G-od that He sent me under that window to-night to deliver you.” “Oh! I’m sure I am very thankful” — “ Hot you! I don’t believe it. You are a bag of deceit” — <{ Do be a little merciful, J aek ! ” said his wife. “ Hold your tongue!” returned Jack, but giving his wife a wink ; “ you don’t know half the deceitfulness of this young liussey, or you would not say one word in her favour. You own that you’ve been giving this rascal the meeting now for a fort- night past,” he continued, directing his inquisitorial force again upon Margery Markpence ; “ and yet I know for certain, that only three nights ago you urged Jonathan to be sharp about marrying you. "What did ye mean by such hypocrisy?” “ Oh, I wasn’t a hypocrite, J ack ! I’ll tell you all about if. My father makes me so miserable at home. He’s so cross with me, and still worse with my mother. And yet I don’t want to say any thing undutiful of him. But he’s so near with his money that he almost pines us ; and we are forced to mend our clothes and patch ’em till we hardly know what to do with ’em. And 1 52 ALDERMAN RALPH. to have him girning at ns, from morning to night — it’s almost more than flesh and blood can bear. I wanted to get away from it all; and, if Jonathan would have married, I would have gone in rags with him, and worked hard — for I love the ground he walks on, J ack ! I do indeed ! But he said he could not marry yet, perhaps this four or five year. And the lawyer said he would marry me next week. And so I came over the river with him in a boat last night, just to look at the house where, he said, I should live like a lady. He put me into a room by my- self, and I sat a long time — several hours, it must have been — till all the folks in the house were gone to bed ; and I was so miserable that I tried to get out, but he had fastened the door. I told him so when he came to me ; but he was civil, and made me have some nice things to eat, and wanted me to drink wine with him ; but I would not have it. At last, I saw he had brought me there for to ruin me; and I was a long time struggling with him before you knocked at the window. Oh dear! I’m very miserable for what I’ve done; but I’ll never listen to another man, let him be who he may. I’ll never be discontented at home again. I’ll bear all my father’s temper, and never complain. And if J onathan will not turn me off, but forgive me, I’ll wait ten or twenty year for him” — “ There, there, that will do!” said Jack, who began to regret his assumed harshness, and was now in danger of laughing, and spoiling the effect of his scold ; “ don’t promise too much : let us see some of your performances, Margery, instead. How you shall answer me one more question truly, and then I’ll try what can be done to reconcile your father; and I think I can soften him — only you must tell me all the truth. What money, or what fine things, have you had from Threap? Tell me the whole truth, now ! ” “ I’ve five sovereigns in my pocket. That’s what he has given me altogether. I did not want to have ’em; but he would force them on me. He said it didn’t matter, for I should soon have fifty in my purse every day. He offered me several things ALDERMAN RALPH. 153 that I durst not have, because I could not get ’em into the house without my father or mother seeing ’em. I only took two or three lots of ribbon; and they’re hidden under my bed at home.” The fiddler, after another homily, but of a more gentle character both in substance and mode of delivery than his former ones, left Margery in care of his wife, and departed on his errand of intercession with the toll-keeper. Margery remained in great misery, dreading the meeting with her father, and only a very little relieved by the kindly words of the fiddler’s wife. Poor young and foolish Margery! it was a bitter cup she had to drink ; but J ack’s wife reminded her that she had deep cause to be thankful that it was mercifully appointed for her, instead of a lifelong draught of sorrow and degradation. It had been daylight nearly an hour when Jack came up to the new temporary toll-gate which had been reared by Plomb- line’s workmen. He knocked; and Margery’s mother opened the gate. “ Do come into the house, a few minutes!” she said to Jack, very sorrowfully. “ In a moment!’ 5 Jack answered, darting through the opened gate, and, in obedience to his yearning curiosity, running up to a noisy crowd which was issuing from the mouth of the narrow lane that has already been described as conducting behind the wharves and quay of the river. And little more than a moment sufficed J ack. He learned that a considerable quantity of contraband tobacco, and several kegs of spirits, had been seized by the revenue-officers, who had just been searching the Potter- dam trading brig, “ Good Intention;” and then he returned to the door of the toll-house, and entered it. Jack was not slow to guess what ailed Gregory Markpence, who sat by the fire, with his hat slouched over his brows, his head bent over his breast, and his arms folded, lost in the very st<(J)or of wretchedness. He did not appear to notice Jack’s entry. The fiddler closed the door, motioned to Gregory’s wife 154 ALDERMAN RALPH. to be silent, and to sit down ; and lie himself took a chair, and drawing it close to the wretched man, sat down, and laid his hand on Gregory’s knee. The toll-keeper started, and glared at Jack wildly. “ Take it quietly, Mr. Markpence,” the fiddler began in a low, gentle tone; “ I have found her, and I have her safe.” The mother burst forth into tears, and uttered sounds half of wailing and half of joy; and the father began to shake and sob, as if his heart would break. Jack had hard work to sober them both down into any thing approaching calmness and self-possession. He gave broken hints of the story, till he felt his ground sufficiently firm ; and then gave the recital as nearly as possible in Margery’s words, omitting what she had said about her father’s severity. Gregory often interjected curses and vows of revenge against Threap, not unmingled with bitter words against his own child. “ Why should she desert a good home'?” he cried, when the story was nearly complete ; “ she’s a bad, ingrateful, young good- for-nothing ! It would serve her right if I were to forbid her my door, and turn her out upon the world, to take up with any rascal that held up a finger for her.” Jack gave a look full of meaning at Gregory’s wife, and then at the chamber-door. But he had to repeat it, while Gregory raved on, before the wife, comprehending it, rose, and withdrew up-stairs. “ Gregory Markpence, stop!” said Jack, so soon as they were left to themselves ; “ you know that you are not only talking wildly, but you are telling lies. You are a plain man, and so am I. And you are a father, and so am I. And you ought to know, and to confess it, too, that you are in a great degree the cause of your daughter’s error. I am not going to screen her from all blame. I’ve told her my mind upon it, pretty strongly, I assure you. But you know she has not deserted a good home. You have made her home miserable; and this has come out of it. Nay, if the lass had been lost and ruined, ALDERMAN RALPH. 155 I don’t know but that you would have deserved the heavier punishment.” Gregory’s face grew almost black with conscious guilt, shame, and anger. He clenched his teeth; and at last seized Jack savagely by the collar. But Jack sat still, and kept his courage up. “ Have your will of me, in any way that suits your humour, Markpence,” he said, looking defiance. “ I am not a child, to be frightened at a madman by daylight — nor at ghosts that cry ‘ Go back ! ’ in the dark,” he added, unable to resist that reminiscence, and laughing, in spite of the serious thoughts that crowded upon him. Gregory himself laughed, and withdrew his gripe. But J ack had not discharged his conscience, and resolved he would do it, whatever it might provoke the toll-keeper to do or threaten. “ You must hear the truth, and bear it, too,” he began again; “ you know you are a brute of a temper. You confessed as much to me the other night. You make yourself miserable, and all around you. What can you expect is to come of all your miserly grinding for money? If you can live on iron nails, do ye suppose others can that have not your iron constitution? You are starving and ill-using the poor lass — ay, and your poor wife, too ! ” Gregory’s eyes glared, and with a savage oath he sprung at J ack, but fell helplessly on the floor — for J ack had watched the boiling of his passion, and slipped dexterously from the chair just at the critical moment. “ What, in the name of mercy, are you doing ? ” cried Gregory’s wife, throwing open the stair-door, and rushing into the lower room. “ Nothing to you ! get away with you, you ,”and Gregory added a word better omitted. “ Never mind, Mrs. Markpence — nevermind!” said Jack, and repeated the sign for her to withdraw. The fall seemed to have shaken Gregory’s anger out of him. 156 ALDERMAN RALPH. He sat down quietly, beckoned Jack to be seated; and tlien burst into a flood of tears. He seemed asliamed of this, however ; and simply signified, so soon as he could speak, that he would consider of what Jack had said. He trusted Jack would keep secret what had passed between them, which Jack readily promised. Seeing him restored to a more fitting frame of mind, Jack consented to go with him, and give Margery into his care. She fell on her knees in an agony when her father entered J ack’s cottage ; but the fiddler’s schooling had had so good an effect upon the toll-keeper’s mind, that he received her tenderly, and conducted her home, relieved of her fears, but filled with self- reproof and sadness. BOOK IY. ■BJljirlj is a Saak af Sara anil /igljiiags, af |Ms ank Drains ; anir ia rnfurfr, ntljilr tlji ‘BJirkrir strut ia prasprr, ijrr Uirinaas art plangrit inia sarreta anil itisasfrr. ALDERMAN RALPH. 15 0 BOOK IY. CHAPTER I. Civil YYar breaks out in the Corporation of Willowacre: eloquence and diplomatic valour of Hugh Plombline: First Victory of the Conspirators: Victory checked by the bold bearing of Alderman Ralph. That is an admirable and mysterious provision of Nature whereby the world never lacks great men fitted for great times, when great times come. “ Wheresoever the carcase is, there will the vultures be gathered together,” is a text which solves the mystery, I would have said — only I am not a clergyman, and must not meddle with matters winch belong not to my cloth. Besides, I am well aware that the thoughtful reader will have raised a “ previous question” — Whether said great men make the great times, or said great times make the great men? I reply, with Sir Boger de Coverley, that “ Much might be said on both sides ; ” a reply which, I trust, will be deemed perfectly satisfactory to the sincere inquirer. For mine own part, I am not so curious to come at a solution of that query, as I am wishful to remark that, when stirring times come, some of our old acquaintances often take us by sur- prise. Belike we set them down, for many a year, as mere so-so, milk-and-water sort of fellows; as any things; as creatures who could hardly say “bo!” to a goose; as men in whose mouths butter could scarcely melt. But, behold ! the times change, and our quiet -going, harmless, insignificant acquaintances become 160 ALDERMAN RALPH. fast-men, fire-eaters, human wiverns or griffins, very dragons of party, and breathers as well as devourers of flame ! And then we say, “ Who would have thought it?” Let the intelligent reader apply this intelligent remark to that part of the history which now follows. The Guildhall of ancient Willowacre presented such a scene when the adjourned meeting of council opened, as had never been witnessed there since the hall was built. Mr. Ralph and his friends scarcely rose to give the usual courtesy to the mayor when his worship entered. Mr. Backstitch noticed their coldness; but, so far from quenching the heat of mischievous intent with which he came into the council-chamber, it only strengthened his devilry. Assured, by his interview with Threap, of support from the baronet’s strong hand, and nerved to still greater determina- tion and confidence by another conversation with HughPlombline, as well as prepared to enter on a decided course of action by agreement with that craftier strategist and bolder soldier — Nicky held up his chin above the crimson velvet cushion, and opened the meeting with a courage and self-possession which surprised the whole municipal assembly. “ Gentlemen of the council,” he said, without the slightest hesitation or stammering, “ the town-clerk will verbally deliver to you the report of the interview between Sir Nigel Nickem, baronet, and the deputation appointed by you, yesterday, to wait upon that honourable person, at his especial request.” Mr. Pratewell looked round in some surprise, and hesitated; but quickly rose, and obeyed the somewhat peremptory summons. “With due obedience to his worship,” he began, “I rise, gentlemen, to make a verbal report to you. But since the deputation had no united conference after their interview with Sir Nigel Nickem, and as I was not instructed that I should have to deliver to you a verbal report, I pray that I may be judged leniently if I discharge the task, thus suddenly imposed^ somewhat imperfectly. I need not relate to you, in detail, the opening circumstances of our interview with the baronet. ALDERMAN RALPH. 161 Suffice it to say, that we were received with all the courtesy that might he expected from a gentleman of station” — “Hear, hear!” said the mayor and Hugh Plombline; while Mr. Ralph and Jerry Dimple reddened, and the other friends of the Wheat Sheaf parlour showed signs of anger and impatience. “ When business was entered upon, however,” continued Mr. Pomponius, who paused, and looked a little embarrassed with the interjections which were very loudly uttered; “ I am bound to say, that courtesies ceased between Sir Nigel and the deputation” — - “No, no!” loudly interjected Hugh Plombline. “No, no!” echoed the mayor, straining to speak as loudly as Plombline. “ Gentlemen,” faltered the town-clerk, “ I would much rather decline this task” — “No, no! go on!” cried Hugh Plombline. “ Go on! go on!” cried Mr. Nicholas. “ How can any man go on, if you give him the lie at every step — although you know he is only speaking the bare truth?” demanded Mr. Ralph, springing to his feet with indignation. “ I did not give him the lie, sir ! ” fiercely spoke Hugh Plomb- line, starting also to his feet, and hurling back a defiant look at Mr. Ralph; “no one here thinks of attributing such low lan- guage to an alderman but yourself!” Mr. Ralph was ready to reply as defiantly; but now the whole council had also risen to their feet, and not one voice could be distinguished from another for some minutes. Every body spoke, and every body cried shame on every body else for making such a disgraceful noise. Mr. Ralph sat down. Aider- man Plombline imitated him. And then the other members of the borough council took their seats, and an appearance of order was restored. “ Proceed, if you please, Mr. Town-clerk,” said the mayor, determined to play his part firmly. “ Gentlemen, it is my duty to obey the voice of every one whom you place in that chair,” proceeded Mr. Pomponius; “ and VOL. i. M 162 ALDERMAN RALPH. I will obey in fulfilling this task ; but I beg that yon will suffer me to fulfil it accordingly to my sense of honour and truth ; and that you will not interrupt me, but correct me when I have concluded — if it be deemed that I need to be corrected. I stated, and I repeat, that, when business was entered upon, courtesies ceased between Sir Nigel and the deputation — I was about to say, when I was interrupted — the deputation collectively.” Mr. Pratewell then related the conversation between Sir Nigel and himself; rehearsed with strictness what passed between the baronet and Mr. Alderman Ralph ; described the interchange of civilities between Sir Nigel and the mayor and Plombline; and finally described how the baronet cut short the interview, and stepped hastily into another room; and how the members of the deputation descended the inn-stairs, and separated at the door. Mr. Pomponius sat down, but no one rose to speak. Mr. Ralph felt that he could not speak just then, without anger; and so kept silence. And Hugh Plombline wanted to hasten towards the commencement of the battle he had planned. He glanced at the mayor. “ Gentlemen,” asked the little magnate at once, “ have any of you any remark to make upon Mr. Town-clerk’s report?” No one answered; and in a minute Mr. Nicky rose again, and thus delivered himself — “ Gentlemen, as the chief magistrate of this ancient, loyal, and peaceable borough, I feel it to be my duty to declare, that I shall order it to be published by the town-crier forthwith, and also by printed handbill, that a certain reward shall be paid for the discovery of the person or persons, who, on the night of the eleventh instant, broke the peace of this borough, and also riotously and routously demolished the parapet of the bridge over the river Slowflow, and broke down the toll-gate. And I now invite my brother magistrates to retire into the inner hall, and there confer with and assist me in fixing the amount of reward to be offered — unless the whole council prefer that the business be despatched by them.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 163 “ I rise, Mr. Mayor, and gentlemen of the council,” said Hugh Plombline, springing to his feet before a single member of the corporation could recover from surprise, “ to express my deep gratification with what we have just heard. Sir Nigel Nickem, I can testify, has not the slightest wish to throw us into litiga- tion ; and I honour his worship for showing that he, at least ? has a proper sense of the honourable baronet’s handsome conduct. I may hear from some, that Sir Nigel’s sole right to the bridge is questionable. That, however, is itself a question ; and it may be long before it is decided. Suppose it should ever be decided in our favour — I mean in favour of this corporation — what then? Shall we suffer our own property to be wantonly injured, and not ask who has injured it? Who, then, could be sur- prised, if a mere rabble were to send a shower of stones through those time-honoured windows while we were sitting here? And if all the credible stories about our right to the bridge should be unfounded, are we acting the part of really honourable men, to permit the property of another to be injured, while we merely treat it as a joke? What gentleman here would like to have the joke played, of his door being carried away, and his house- windows or shutters broken? Finally, I protest, as a magistrate of this borough, against protecting these rioters by our silence; and I declare my own resolution to aid and assist his worship in my magisterial capacity — unless the council think fit to take upon themselves unitedly, the duty which the mayor has pointed out to them.” The boldness and vigour with which Plombline delivered this address, struck a sort of awe of surprise into the minds of the majority. Even the senior alderman was too much astonished to be able to speak. Plombline, still on the alert, looked keenly at one common-councilman who rose to fulfil his part. This was Solomon Topple, the landlord of the Red Lion. “ Gentlemen,” said Solomon with some confusion, for he was not a practised speaker, “ I beg to say that I think — think — his worship and Mr. Alderman Plombline take — take only a — a 164 ALDERMAN RALPH. rationable view of things. A parcel of mere ragamuffins — I mean rioters, you know — should not he allowed to damage pro- perty that perhaps belongs in part to us — and, and if it doesn’t, why, you know, we should not allow other people’s property to be damaged. Mr. Town-clerk, however, understands the law better than we do ; and, gentlemen, since he is our — our legal adviser, I — I call on him, gentlemen, to — to give us his opinion.” “ Yes,” said little Nicky; “ I should also feel personally obliged to the town-clerk if he would, as a lawyer, tell us whether the magistrates of this ancient, loyal, and peaceable borough, can be judged to fulfil their magisterial duties, if they neglect to do all in their power towards discovering and punishing the depredators on property — and that property too, of so much value to the public.” “ I beg also to add my humble request to that which his wor- ship and Mr. Topple have preferred to the town-clerk,” said Plombline, drawing the last strings to secure the net which he had laid for Mr. Pratewell, and in which Mr. Pratewell, he knew, was now fully caught. “ It is my duty to state to the council,” said the town-clerk with downcast eyes, and in a fainter tone than usual, “ that I think the course which his worship has declared he shall follow, is the most advisable one, under present circumstances, both for himself and the other magistrates of this borough.” Little Nicky fidgeted and grimaced with delight. Hugh Plomb- line folded his arms, and threw a haughty and triumphant glance, and a smile of scorn, at Mr. Palph. Mr. Ralph sprang up — “ The mayor and Mr. Plombline may do as they please in this affair,” he said, angrily ; “ but I declare that I will not sit on this bench to hear any body examined or tried, who may be brought up for this paltry squabble; nor will I have any concern with offering the reward.” “Nor I,” said Mark Siftall; and so declared Diggory Cleave- well and Gervase Poundsmall. Hugh Plombline had just glanced at a note which had been handed to him, on the end of a long rod, by one of the mayor’s ALDERMAN RALPH. 165 attendants. He closed it, and exclaimed, just as the apothecary sat down — • “ Fine examples of respect to the chief officer of the borough ! These four gentlemen refuse to assist his worship and their brother magistrates in the performance of a public duty, which is approved by our legal adviser — and yet they can send forth shameful search-warrants in the dark, with the intent to ruin a gentleman of unsullied reputation, a gentleman who annoys them by becoming the legal adviser of Sir Nigel Nickem. They can take this dirty office upon themselves, without asking a word of advice about it from any other member of the bench. But their spite has failed ! ” he concluded, with the air of a triumphant fiend ; “ the coast- waiters’ assistants have returned from Meadow- beck, and have neither found smuggled tobacco nor smuggled spirits on the premises of Mr. Threap ! ” Again the old Guildhall resounded with the notes of confusion ; every councillor was on his feet, and every councillor was speak- ing. The town-clerk looked pitifully at his Wheat Sheaf parlour friends; and, indeed, they looked pitifully at each other. Mr. Balph rose, however, when the confusion began to subside, and the councillors to take their seats, and with his hands in the pockets of his waistcoat, and an eye and voice of wondrous calm- ness, although the flush of excitement was yet on his fine large face, thus spoke : — “ I could call a Higher Power to witness, if I thought it seemly so to do, that I did not sign that search-warrant with any other feeling than sorrow and regret. And I can answer for my three friends, and I am proud to call them so, that they have acted in this matter as conscientiously as myself. And, whether I am believed or not, I hereby declare that no one can rejoice more than I do, at learning that a man like Mr. Threap has not committed himself to ruin and disgrace by participating in an illegal transaction. Let any man point to a single day or hour of my life wherein I have practised spite or malevolence towards my neighbours, whether they were reckoned among my 166 ALDERMAN RALPH. friends or my enemies, and I am silenced. I well know that no man can do that. Since the town-clerk has decided that the course proposed by the mayor is the most advisable, I shall not say another word against it, nor vote against it, if it be proposed to the suffrages of this meeting. But I shall abide by the course I have already marked out for myself, personally.” Plombline did not say another word to revive the strife. He knew that this declaration on the part of Alderman Ralph would not prevent the majority of the council from voting with himself, the mayor, and Solomon Topple ; remembering, as they would, the responsible and evidently reluctant opinion given by the town-clerk. A few minutes realised Plombline’s foresight : an offer of a reward of fifty pounds was decided on, at the motion of Topple, who was again carrying out the plot laid by Threap and Hugh Plombline ; and the crier was ordered into attendance, and Mr. Pratewell to draw up a bill for the printer, forthwith. The mayor Nicky was in the act of rising to intimate that the council was ended, when Mr. Ralph rose and prevented him. “ I demand,” he said, “ I do not request ; but I demand, that the committee appointed to induct Dr. Dingyleaf into his search for the Bridge Deed meet this day, and without delay.” “ Hear, hear, hear ! ” rung from every part of the council table, and from the aldermen’s bench. But the little mayor Nicky was not to be baffled without a struggle, after experiencing so much success. Could not the meeting of that committee be delayed, say for another week? he asked. Every body was not so pros- perous in business, nor so much beforehand with the world, as the senior alderman. These frequent council meetings were detri- mental to many members, and to none more than himself. He might be told he could retire from the committee ; but he would not do that. It should never be said of him that he shirked public duties. He only wished a reasonable delay to take place. Hugh Plombline was about to rise again, and back up his friend; but Alderman Ralph was up in an instant, and thun- dered forth — ALDERMAN RALPH. 167 “ Consent that the committee shall enter on its duties with Dr. Dingyleaf this day; or I will summon a public meeting of the inhabitants of this borough, by the crier’s bell, before two hours are over. Hear that, Mr. Mayor ! ” Hot only the Wheat Sheaf parlour friends, but the large majority of the council, cheered and stamped with their feet at the utterance of these words — for the general heart was with Mr. Ealph, although they had just voted apparently against him. “ Well, then, say six o’clock this evening,” yielded little Nicky, for Plombline did not speak or give any sign, and, for himself, he dare not permit Mr. Ealph to draw the storm of a public meeting of the inhabitants upon him. “ A late and unseasonable hour, Mr. Mayor,” said Mr. Ealph, firmly ; “ an hour at which no committee of this corporation has ever met, at least in my time.” “ Oh ! Mr. Alderman Trueman does not wish to be disturbed at dinner,” grinned Nicky, fierce and vicious as a snake, and therefore resolved to show his mean sting ; “ or — I forgot — it will rob him of his old enjoyment at the select parlour — the Wheat Sheaf.” “ Sir,” replied Mr. Ealph, with a look and voice which Nicky did not forget to his dying day, “ you occupy a chair which I am bound to reverence; but if I saw a certain man in the street, I could tell him that he deserved the contempt even of a thief condemned to the gallows, and that his looks would hang him. I dine at three, sir, and I am not three hours dining ; and I can also forego the meeting of friends whom I have met for a score of years. Shall the committee meet at six, sir?” “ Yes : certainly,” replied little Nicky, relapsing into the ste- reotype, in his fright. “ Any more business, your worship? Shall I say that the council is dissolved?” asked the town-clerk, seizing the opportune moment afforded by the mayor’s relapse. “ Yes : certainly,” again replied the half-unconscious Mr. Nicholas. 168 ALDERMAN RALPH. u Gentlemen of the archives’ committee,” proclaimed Mr. Pom- ponius, “ his worship appoints your meeting for six o’clock, pre- cisely, this evening. Gentlemen of the council, the present meeting is, by his worship’s order, hereby dissolved.” The members of the corporation took their way to their homes, spreading anxiety on every side ; and when the town-crier was heard, proclaiming an offer of fifty pounds’ reward for discovery of the bridge rioters, indescribable alarm and consternation spread from end to side in old Willowacre. ALDERMAX RALPH, 169 CHAPTER II. Gilbert Pevensey begins to pay the price of his Friendship with the Baronet: the Baronet tries to strengthen the Snare. “ He was always the same.” That might he true of your friend, for a day or a week. Especially if the atmosphere he breathed were always at the same temperature; or the tax- gatherer did not call; or no duns came to his gate; or nobody got into his debt and ran away without paying him; or his mutton were always cooked according to his taste ; or his sitting- room never smoked ; or his wife preserved a uniform heavenly temper. So long as your friend had nothing to disturb him, what wonder that he sat in his easy arm-chair with a look as placid and self-possessed as that which has dwelt for these three thousand years on the face of Memnon? You could not guess what Satanic energy slumbered within that man, so long as no- thing occurred to mar his serene complacency. te Always the same!” You never found a man whom you knew twenty years ago just the same as you knew him then. One hears people talk of having found such a miracle of a man ; but one knows they are talking nonsense. If you have the best- tempered man in your neighbourhood for a friend, you would not think the day of judgment was at hand, because you happened to see him burst into a violent passion. It may be that you know many people who might be thrown into a tornado of temper by the mention of certain subjects which would not move your friend at all. But, if you** know your friend well, you know “ that there is a com on one of his toes,” as Jack Jigg would say; and therefore you would take care to avoid treading upon it. 170 ALDERMAN RALPH. On the contrary, if yon knew hut little of your friend, yon wonld have to trample on his corn to learn that he had one. Alderman Ralph and his gnest, the hngely learned Dingyleaf, had dined ; May and Edgar had not withdrawn from the room ; and Mr. Ralph was endeavouring to take some consolation to himself from the approach of the hour when the grand quest for the Bridge Deed should be entered upon — when Mr. Gilbert Pevensey was announced. Mr. Ralph welcomed him with great heartiness, feeling his visit to be a real relief; and soon grew very earnest in pressing him to move the bottle. But Gilbert Pev- ensey had come with the weight upon his mind, that he had a duty to discharge for a friend, and it would require some skill to discharge it without offence to Mr. Ralph. He soon found the task he had taken upon himself to be even more difficult than he had imagined it would be. He innocently began in the very worst way : he trode on the corn. “ By the way, Mr. Trueman,” he said, when there was, as he thought, a favourable pause in the very pleasant conversation, “an old friend of mine, Sir Nigel Nickem, has just come on a visit to the town, and I have undertaken” — “Sir!” exclaimed Alderman Ralph, with a tone and look almost as much horror-stricken as if Gilbert had avowed himself guilty of murder — “ a friend of yours!” “Yes, sir,” answered Gilbert; but they were the only words he could utter — so paralysing was the look of Mr. Ralph. “ I am deeply sorry to hear it, sir,” returned the senior alderman, in a manner which proclaimed unmistakably that Pevensey was degraded by his confession ; and which instantly kindled Gilbert’s displeasure. “ I am not aware, sir,” he said, “ that, by mentioning an hon- ourable and valued friendship of mine, I have given you any cause to express a sorrow which, by the manner of its expression, conveys a reproach.” “ Mr. Pevensey ! ” exclaimed the alderman, “ you must be aware that you are misusing terms. You cannot feel it to be ALDERMAN RALPH. 171 honourable to profess a friendship with a man who is without honour.” Gilbert had just caught a glimpse of the misery which was personified in May’s face, or he would have replied, this time, with increased indignation. For May’s sake, he condescended to expostulate. “ I trust, sir,” he said, “ you will, instead of repeating asser- tions which, I am sure are founded in mistake on your part, allow me to make a few observations, which I hope will tend to remove your misconceptions of the character of Sir Nigel Nickem.” “ Sir, you need not trouble yourself with such a vain labour,” replied the inflexible Mr. Ralph; “ Sir Nigel Nickem’s character is shown by his own acts; and, I may justly say, by the acts of his family. For as he adopts and resolves to continue the robbery they have long practised” — “ Robbery, sir ! ” cried Gilbert, feeling it impossible any longer to restrain himself ; “ I cannot sit here to hear a friend of mine — an honourable and valued friend, I repeat — spoken of in such terms of abuse.” Edgar was now leading May, trembling and in tears, from the room. Her uncle and Gilbert sprang up to assist; and Dingy- leaf, with a wo-stricken face, was already at the door, and opened it. Dingy leaf closely followed May and Edgar; and Mr. Ralph permitted him to do so, but laid a hand on Gilbert’s arm, and, with a sternness that chilled Gilbert to the very mar- row, said — “ No, sir! resume your seat, if you please!” Pevensey sank info the chair, wounded, hurt, and offended, and gazed speechlessly at the alderman, who, nerved by his strong, hereditary, and lifelong passion, had also resumed his seat, and forcibly suppressed his tenderness for May. “ Mr. Pevensey,” he began again, in the same hard iron tone, “ you and I were utter strangers until very recently; and I have no right to expect that you should break an old friendship for 172 ALDERMAN RALPH. mine — especially one that you consider both honourable and valuable. Preserve, then, your valued friendship with Sir Nigel Nickem ; but let the intimacy between yourself and me cease.” “ Surely, sir, there can be no reason” — Gilbert was beginning. “ Yes, sir, there is a reason. We must know each other in future but as fellow-townsmen and good neighbours,” persevered the alderman ; “ I could not receive you with the pleasure I formerly felt in your company. A friend of that man — I think I almost wrong mankind by classing a Nickem amongst them — a friend of a Nickem, sir, can never be my friend. It is the great object of my life, sir, to humble the pride and end the robbery which characterise that family. If it were to ruin me, and make a beggar of me, I would not desist from it.” Gilbert listened with amazement as well as distress. Could he really have heard such sentences spoken by the benevolent and noble-hearted Ralph Trueman? Or were the words spoken under a sudden insanity? The strange speaker again went on. “No, sir: our intimacy must end. Sir Nigel Nickem will now need the aid of all his friends. He has won a few in Wil- lowacre, by some vile trick or other. But they are only a few. The contest with him, that I have desired all my life, and my fathers before me, is come at last; and no friend of Sir Nigel Nickem can be the intimate friend of Ralph Trueman.” He rose, and waved his hand. Gilbert rose, and yet would have spoken again. But Mr. Ralph would not hear him. “Nay, sir!” he said, waving his hand towards the door again; “ it cannot be. Good-morning, Mr. Pevensey ! ” How he found his way to the baronet’s rooms at the Bed Lion, Gilbert Pevensey afterwards wondered. With a stunned, confused feeling, like that of a man who has received some heavy blow on the head, he dropped into a chair so soon as he had entered the room where Sir Nigel was sitting — for he had walked, or rather stumbled, in without a thought of ceremony. The baronet rushed towards him in real alarm ; for Gilbert looked deathly. He made a determined effort at self-possession, took a ALDERMAN RALPH. 173 glass of wine from the baronet’s hand, and then intimated that, in a few minutes, he would tell Sir Nigel the meaning of it. Their conversation was long and anxious. One was repeatedly declaring that he had never been so strongly affected in his life, as by the behaviour of Alderman Ralph; and the other felt increased wonder why his friend was so strongly affected. “ It is a perfect fanaticism — this hostility of his towards your- self and your family, Nigel,” said Pevensey; “his whole nature undergoes a change when the excitement of it is upon him. From being the soul of good-fellowship, and a very model of large-hearted tenderness and benevolence, he suddenly becomes a man of steel — or, rather a repelling engine of war and defiance. I never experienced any thing like the effect of his voice and look.” “ I never saw you look so strangely, Gilbert, as you did when you sank into that chair. Did you not say that your friendship with this Willowacre grandee only dates about a month back?” “A very short acquaintanceship, I grant, Nigel; but the man’s excellence is in every mouth. He is a pattern of kindness. I know that he is. And yet, to have seen and heard him when he was avowing his opposition to yourself and family ! It was really fearful.” “ Come, come, Gilbert ! shake it ofi^ or you will be benight- mared by the senior alderman. Why, man, you talk about this, your friend-of-a-month’s-standing, as if, in him, you had lost a mistress who had stolen all your heart ! ” Gilbert felt a sudden twinge; but determined to parry the blow which he saw must come next. “Is your late friend a father? Has he a pretty daughter?” asked Sir Nigel, archly. “ Neither. How can you wonder that I should feel so utterly shocked to hear a man whom, only the other day, I saw shed tears over a poor fatherless boy, to-night declare that he thought he almost wronged humanity in classing a Nickem among mankind?” 174 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ Good God ! ” exclaimed the baronet, experiencing a degree of horror in his turn ; " you don’t mean to say, Gilbert, that the man professed any thing so barbarous ! ” “ His very words, I assure you. A friend of a Nickem, he went on to declare, could never be his friend. It was the main object of his life to humble the pride and end the robbery of all the Nickems; and, if it were to ruin and make a beggar of him, he would not desist from it. I never knew such fanaticism.” “ Fanaticism, Gilbert ! say devilism, rather ! Ho you think it possible that any human creature can possess all the benevolence and tenderness you have attributed to this new acquaintance, and yet can give vent to the sentiments of a demon 1 ?” “ It is because I not only think it possible, Nigel, but have proved it to be so, that I am so much staggered and confounded by it. I can only set down this deadly hostility of his to your- self and your family, as a kind of monomania — an hereditary monomania,— for, by his own confession, it has marked his family for some generations past.” “ W ell, I should think you have now hit it exactly, Gilbert. Your late friend is mad — literally and ragingly mad — on one point. A Nickem is not a man, but a monster. And the proper life-deed, and destiny of this Quixote senior alderman is to ruin, root out, and rid the world of, the whole brood of the monster Nickems ! Come, come, Gilbert ! let the crazy old fool go; and let us talk about something better worth our breath. We only play the part of children to fright ourselves with this old fellow’s hobgoblin image.” How the baronet’s gibes grated on the chords of Gilbert’s heart! But how could he demur? Had he not led the way to, and authorized their utterance? “ After all, I am glad we have had this talk about this poor- old man,” continued the baronet, keenly suspicious that Gilbert might be hurt by what he had just said ; “ it lessens my surprise at what I have heard about his conduct in the Guildhall to-day. The mayor very properly proposed, and the council carried ALDERMAN RALPH. 175 the proposition, that a reward should be offered for the discovery of the bridge rioters; but poor Trueman raved wildly, and has sworn that, as a magistrate, he will take no part either in the examination or trial of the depredators. It will ruin his cha- racter, I should think, as a magistrate. But, of course, he is to be pitied, from what you have said. When this monomania is upon him, he can scarcely be held accountable for what he either does or says.” Sir Nigel Nickem’s footman now announced “Mr. Threap.” “ Oh ! desire him to call again in an hour” — “ No, by no means,” said Gilbert, rising and interrupting his “valued” friend, and feeling too eager to begone, now his spirits were again sinking ; “ my sister will have been expecting me this hour. Her compliments, and my own, Nigel, of course, — and we positively expect you at dinner to-morrow, at five.” “ Thank ye, old fellow ! I’ll come, if the new Quixote does not slay the monster. My compliments to your sister, please ! Good by, old fellow — cheer up ! ” Threap and the baronet were soon in close confabulation. Only a shred of it need be rehearsed. “By the bye, Threap, has this old mad brute a pretty house- keeper? He has not a daughter, I understand.” “ No : but his niece is his housekeeper.” “ Is she good-looking — kind — sensible?” “ She is a perfect goddess : the very flower of Willowacre : every body worships her : her uncle doats on her ! ” “By Jove, that’s the key to it! Her age, or about, Threap?” “ Can’t say, exactly — but under twenty.” “ Her name?” “ May Silverton.” “ Beautiful! Thank ye, Threap! Now to business!” 176 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER III. Dingyleaf in the grand Treasure-chamber of Parchments: May Silverton’s first night of Sorrow: Alice and the Baronet, and the dinner at Lovesoup House. Conceive the picture of a stout Yorkshire adventurer just landed among the Californian or Australian diggings, stripping off coat, waistcoat, and neckerchief, spitting in his hand, and grasping his pickaxe, ready to make the first smash among the earth and quartz, and straining his eyes for the primal sparkle of gold ; or of a schoolboy, eager for the wealth borne by brambles and the treasure contained in birds’ nests, let loose, with bounding heart, in his El Dorado of a long-untrodden wood ; or of a keen terrier, with glistening eyes and uneasy whine, nervously fidget- ing about, while Hodge and his sons dig down into the venerable rat-holes, determined that their ancient denizens shall go undis- turbed no longer; — and by blending the conceptions, if thou doest it skilfully, and as skilfully distillest one image from the three in the alembic of thy brain, thou wilt be able, skilful reader, to realize the portraiture of the shamefully-neglected and deeply- injured Dingyleaf of the four pronomina, exhibiting his restless delectation, while chests and trunks were being pulled from their cobwebbed shelves and dust-piled hiding-places, keys were rum- maged for, locks were tried, some were opened and some forced, and at length the parchment-treasure, albeit still untied and unrolled, was all gathered in one mountain-heap on the floor. I say, conceive all this, and not another syllable need be used to describe, literally, how the Meadowbeck man of learning looked, and what he said and did. ALDERMAN RALPH. 177 For literal descriptions are vulgar. Nay, they are immoral; for they serve to encourage indolence in the reader. You tell him what a man actually did, and what the man said, and how the man looked. Why, your reader may understand you, even if he be yawning while you do that. But, instead of that, set him upon conceiving, and you touch the spring of his “ ideality,” which organ, put into electric action, jostles its next neighbours, “ marvellousness” and “ imitativeness ; ” and they send on the electric wave to “ comparison” and “ causality”— and so on, and so on — till “size,” “form,” “colour,” and lastly, “language” itself is impulsed ; and the reader sees the very bulk and form of the man, and the colour of his hair, and hears him speak ! Above all, you are training your readers mind. You are teach- ing him to work, to be mentally industrious : a lesson beyond price! Naturally gliding back into the narrative, let us observe that that was a lesson which the great Dingyleaf had well-learnt, though he had so long misapplied it. But, now the occasion had come to show it, it was evident to all how well he had learned it. Midnight had come, and the archives’ committee were weary ; but Dingyleaf was yet as brisk as a bee. He insisted on untying and unrolling the parchments, and getting at the ancient honey. Even Mr. Balph united to dissuade him. And, after much entreaty, he was dissuaded, and consented to retire, for the night, with the rest of the company. The mayor and Plombline, it may be observed, had behaved with such remarkable civility during the entire evening, and had assisted with so much apparent heartiness to complete every necessary preparation for the scholar’s quest, that their meeting passed over with a degree of pleasantness which the majority had certainly not expected. Thus propitiated, Mr. Balph and his friends assented, without a syllable of demur, to Hugh Plomb- line’s proposition, that the key of the inner room, where the man of learning would daily carry on his investigation, should be kept by the town-clerk, who should open the door and close it, morning and evening, in person ; that Dr. Dingyleaf should have 178 ALDERMAN RALPH. one of the mayor’s officers constantly in attendance while engaged in his important work; and that, although any member of the corporation might look in upon him at will, yet none of the committee should be bound to attend the doctor daily, but only to give their presence at their stated meetings, which should be held weekly. Sweet May — for we must return to her — this is the first night of sleepless sorrow she has ever experienced ! Pier uncle, all unskilled to read her heart, had set down her tears and trembling to simple alarm at hearing angry words pass between himself and a respected visiter, who was also the brother of Alice Pevensey, between whom and May, Alderman Balph conceived that a tender friendship had sprung up. He hung over her fondly, after dismissing Gilbert Pevensey with so much sternness ; and, with the intent to sooth her, expressed his deep regret that she should have heard what she did ; and commended Edgar for having the presence of mind to lead her from the room. But he did not say that any kindly explanation had been given and received before Gilbert departed; neither she, nor Edgar, nor the learned Dingyleaf, had heard the parting words of Gilbert and Mr. Balph ; and her uncle, on his return from the archives’ committee-meeting, never once recurred to their altercation ; so that she remained in ignorance of the way in which it ended. May wrestled with her fears, that Gilbert and her uncle had positively and finally quarrelled ; but there were minutes throughout that night of wretchedness when her fears became almost a certitude. And then she told herself that her misery was caused by her own folly. What was Gilbert Pev- ensey to her? He had not spoken one word which she had a right to construe into a confession, or even into a hint, that he entertained a particular preference for herself, much less a passion such as she herself felt, and of which she now knew well enough the name. And what had she to do with love? — she, a mere girl of eighteen? — and how could Mr. Pevensey — a man of four- and-twenty at least, and of so much experience in the world — ALDERMAN RALPH. 179 possibly have ever had a serious thought of such a mere girl, who knew scarcely any thing beyond what she had seen and heard in her good uncle’s house? She would put these foolish thoughts down, and master them, she was determined. But then memory brought back that first look from Gilbert, when he entered the parlour one evening, in the absence of Mr. Balph ; and the sweetness of his voice, and the strange thrill it awoke at her heart. How could all this be? She had never known a look like that : even her dear uncle’s fondness did not resemble it. Ho one had ever spoken to her with such noble gentleness. How different was Gilbert’s tone from the mere kindness — so she termed it — or the occasional captiousness, of Edgar’s ! And yet Gilbert Pevensey did not look or speak in this remarkable manner when addressing others, not even his sister. May was sure it was so : she could not be mistaken. She was sure that the sweetness of his look and voice had increased ever since that evening — so very few evenings ago, and yet it seemed as if she had known him for years ! — when he first entered the parlour while her uncle was at the Wheat Sheaf. Then again she reproved her own folly, and warned herself to act sensibly for the future, and not to imagine that people were in love with her, who had only known her for two or three weeks, and who had never spoken one word to her that could be inter- preted to mean any thing of the kind. She should see no more of Mr. Pevensey ’s looks, and hear no more of his tones, that she had so fondly mingled with her day-dreams. Her uncle and Gilbert had quarrelled; and her uncle did not say they had explained, and parted amicably. Ho: she must give it up! And yet May did not give it up. Her heart remained true to its worship when the morning broke, after that livelong night of contest with herself. May tried to look as cheerful as usual over the breakfast-table; and the effort she made partly concealed the truth from her uncle, who was eager in his conversation with the scholar, being resolved to accompany Dingyleaf on the primal search. Edgar 180 ALDERMAN RALPH. rendered May somewhat uneasy. He was always observing her when she stifled a sigh. What had he to do with it? May inwardly asked, vexed with his scrutiny. He never used to watch her before. So May thought, little aware how much she had omitted to read in his look, before young passion had rendered her sensitive to the language of eyes. When left alone, May began to comfort herself with the belief that her uncertainty would be ended one way or other during the day, by a note from Alice, to whom, she judged, Gilbert would be sure to describe his interview with Mr. Ralph. Rut the day wore on, and no note arrived. Night returned, and except a report of Sir Nigel having dined with Mr. and Miss Pevensey, which little Davy Drudge brought to his mother, and which Patty gave to May, she received no news from Lovesoup Plouse. Thither she dared not go with a heart so agitated, although her uncle had not, by a single word, intimated that her going thither would displease him. She could not expect Alice to call, now she learned that they were entertaining the baronet at Lovesoup House. And so, when her uncle had gone to the Wheat Sheaf parlour, May was constrained to busy herself with an occasional visit of superintendence over Betty and Patty in the kitchen, or in “ putting things to rights” in her own rooms, or in doing any thing to avoid sitting in the parlour, to be stealthily scrutinised by Edgar Tichborne, or to be subjected to those strange glances from Dingyleaf, apparently busy with a book, but ever and anon forgetting it to gaze at May. Alice Pevensey : May would have expected no note to strengthen the heart from her, if May had kno wn what a contest Alice had with her own heart that day. Unknown to her brother, and before he became acquainted with Sir Nigel Nickem, Alice Pevensey had met the young baronet at Naples. He had professed a passion for her, and, as she was but sixteen at the time, the warmth and suddenness of his profession gave it all the romance suited to her age. Alice gave him all her inexperienced heart; and Sir Nigel promised her his hand. The sudden ALDERMAN RALPH. 181 discovery that he was about to be married to an earl’s daughter, made her sensible of his faithlessness, and brought her keen first lessons of mental suffering. The baronet’s marriage with the earl’s daughter was forbidden by the lady’s father, and the lady was speedily married to a young peer. Alice might again have hoped, especially when she learned that Sir Nigel had formed a friendship with her brother, and they were travelling together. But Alice had not May Silverton’s tenderness of nature, while she had far higher pride. She refused to nurture anew a passion which she had begun to crush, and with which her faithless lover had seemed to sport. And, by the time that Alice first saw Edgar Tichborne, her heart was again free, and open to a new impression. In her very earliest conversation with May, Alice had contrived to gain the information that Edgar was the heir of a large property, and so assured herself that her brother could not object to her union with him, if, on further acquaintance, she should judge him worthy of her attachment. The more she saw of Edgar, the more her understanding approved of him. Her heart was yielded more slowly, now she had gained two years of experience, and remembered the price of anguish she had paid for that first trustful passion. In this incipient state of a second passion, when calculation had not fully resigned the balance to affection, Alice was told by her brother that he had spent the early morning with Sir Nigel Nickem, and had proposed that the baronet should dine with them. Having heard of Sir Nigel’s arrival in the town, before her brothers return from the country, and the message from the baronet having been, at first, delivered to herself, Alice had prepared to hear the mention of her old lover’s name from Gilbert. Yet the heart-quake which the sound of his name, and the announcement of his coming visit inflicted, was so great, that Gilbert must have perceived his sister’s excitement, if she had not skilfully avoided his look, and then alleged some unsuspicious reason for leaving the room. Alice compelled herself to join her own name with her 182 ALDERMAN RALPH. brother’s, in the invitation to dinner, and girt up all her strength to go through the “ introduction,” as Gilbert termed it. But the task was severe ; and she was constrained to complain of head- ache and illness in her brother’s hearing, considerably before the hour of dinner. When the hour came, and Sir Nigel entered, Gilbert was thus prepared to apologise for his sister’s dis- composure, as he presented her to his “ valued” friend. Sir Nigel expressed a polite sympathy; conducted himself in the best possible way for lessening, or rather assisting to conceal, the embarrassment of Alice, during the dinner ; and cleverly suggested her early retirement. “ Poor girl ! ” said Gilbert, as the baronet closed the door upon Alice ; “ I am afraid she begins to feel her separation from Miss Silverton, Alderman Ralph’s niece. They had become quite attached.” Gilbert had prepared this observation with the view of fortifying himself against any further light attacks from his friend ; for he guessed, from a knowledge of his friend’s tendencies, that it would not be long before Sir Nigel learned from Threap, that Mr. Ralph had a niece, though the alderman had not a daughter. Sir Nigel, however, let the observation pass without any other remark than that of a slight “ Indeed ! ” He had already chosen other tactics, to be acted upon in another day or two, relative to Gilbert and May Silverton ; being eager to catch a sight of the beauty Threap had so expressively commended, as well as to test the truth of his own suspicion, that Gilbert’s distress at losing the friendship of Mr. Ralph had a deeper and tenderer relation to May than to the alderman. The after- dinner conversation was purposely directed by the baronet, partly to the past scenes of their mutual enjoyment, with a view to augment Gilbert’s attachment to himself as the partner of old pleasures, and partly towards the new associations in which they again found their interests commingled, with the intent to weaken Gilbert’s lingering friendship for Alderman Ralph. “ You did not tell me, Gilbert, if I remember aright,” he said, ALDERMAN RALPH. 183 aiming at tlie latter purpose, “ in wliat terms this strange man rejected my proffered apology for the somewhat abrupt manner in which I dealt with him as one of the deputation.” “ Apology, Nigel! he drove all memory of it out of my head,” replied Pevensey; “ and, if I had remembered it, I could not have found one moment to mention it. His impetuous deter- mination to repel me would have prevented that.” “ And to repel you for my sake! Your friendship with him was new, but, since you valued it so highly, I am pained you should lose it on my account. Yet you are witness that I was not only willing, but eager to make him honourable amends for treating him with a little sharpness of temper — although his rudeness was really intolerable.” “ I can readily conceive that, Nigel, from the strong fierceness with which he spoke of you in my hearing. It was so fierce — I had almost said ferocious — that if I had delivered your apology, I believe it would not have softened him, but rather increased his hostility to you. But let us change the subject. I perceive you cannot preserve the gaiety with which you treated it the other day.” “ I cannot, Gilbert. Nor can I shake off the uneasiness with which this man’s hatred begins to fill me.” “ You will get the better of your qualms, shortly, I have no doubt. You have done no personal injury to Alderman Balph. If you did treat him with a little roughness, you confessed your regret, and I would have given him your confession if he would have heard it. Since you cannot charge yourself with any wilful injury of him, I do not see why you should yield to uneasiness on his account.” “ But I fear, my dear Gilbert, that there is a subtle and secret depth, as well as a ferocious strength, in this man’s malevolence towards me.” “ Guile and secresy can be no part of Mr. lialpli’s character, Nigel. You must be mistaken there. He is all openness — wit- ness the undisguised manner in which he avowed this enmity ! ” 184 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ I tell you, Gilbert, he can be most craftily secret ; and can unite meanness with the vindictiveness he so undisguisedly professes,” said the baronet ; and then gave Pevensey a statement of the search-warrant affair, and the visit to Threap’s house by the revenue-officers. This statement Sir Nigel coloured up so as to make Gilbert regard Alderman Ralph as commanding the help of a party, and dastardly using it to ruin the reputation of Threap, in order to destroy the lawyer’s usefulness. “ And I must confess,” pretended the baronet, “ that, although Threap had the straightforwardness to come direct to me, and relate the circumstances of the search, I felt disposed to dismiss him at first, since it really is not desirable to be surrounded with people whose characters are regarded as questionable. But I reflected that to dismiss him would not only be ungenerous, since he was proved to be guiltless; but the Trueman party would triumph in having robbed me of a man whose local knowledge, they dread, may be found to be too much for them.” Gilbert approved his friend’s course with regard to Threap; and expressed himself more than ever shocked with the conduct of Alderman Ralph. Greatly to Sir ISTigel Nickem’s surprise, they were summoned to tea, and he was once more in the company of Alice. Her brother was delighted to see her so much recovered. Sir Nigel discerned that there was not so much recovery in the case as a strong exertion of will; took care to let Alice see that he was deeply gratified to be again in her presence; but gracefully relieved her of the company of himself and her brother, when he saw that her nerves absolutely needed the relief. Before they separated, Gilbert Pevensey expressed regret that he must unavoidably be from home on the morrow ; but obtained the baronet’s promise to dine again at Lovesoup House on the next succeeding day, which would be Sunday. Sir Nigel Nickem considered, as the carriage rolled on to the Red Lion, that Gilbert’s absence from home on the morrow, laid open the way for an experiment; and resolved he would make it. ALDERMAN RALPH, 185 CHAPTER IV. Containing a Recital of the unlooked-for Trouble and undeserved Captivity into which the Plots of his Enemies threw our Honest Minstrel; and how the Toll-keeper surprised all Parties. On the next morning, which was Saturday, worthy Jack Jigg, his good and true wife, and their large family of small children, sitting together at their humble breakfast, were startled by the sudden entrance into their cottage of the borough-constable of Willowacre, and six attendants. Producing a warrant, the officer told J ack that they had come to arrest him, on a charge of hav- ing assisted to break down the toll-gate, and of having otherwise aided and abetted the great bridge riot. J ack stared incredulously, and so did his wife and children; but when the constable pro- duced a pair of handcuffs, and, with the help of one of the men, proceeded to fasten the humiliating and degrading instruments on poor Jack’s wrists, his affrighted wife and children burst into loud wailing. Jack manifested neither fear nor grief. “ Silence ! ” he shouted, till he had hushed the noise ; “ why are you making all this to do? I have done nothing amiss. They cannot hurt me. I was not at the riot. Hold your noises, I tell ye; and don’t make such fools of yourselves. Martha, my dear lass, I shall soon be back to you and the children. It’s some mistake or other. But it will soon be righted.” “ You’ll want witnesses, Jack, you know,” said the constable, who respected the fiddler, and did not like the errand which had brought him to Jack’s cottage. “ Witnesses!” exclaimed Jigg, conscious of innocence; “what witnesses can I need? What witnesses can be found to swear any thing so false against me, I wonder?” 186 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ There will be a witness against yon, Jack, I assure ye,” re- turned the constable, “ though I must not say who it is.” “ A witness ! There is but one man in Willowacre who would bear false witness against me,” said J ack, “ and that’s old wooden- legged Hykin!” “ Well, you must come along, Jack, for we had orders to be quick,” said the constable ; “ I only advise you to get witnesses on your side.” “ Oh ! you mean witnesses to prove a lye-bye, as they call it,” said the fiddler ; “ I understand you, now. Martha, my lass, go over to Oatacre, and tell young farmer Bringle that he must come as quick as possible, and prove that I was at his wedding that night” — “ He had better bring as many with him as he can, J ack ; you understand?” observed the constable. “Thank ye,” said Jack; “tell him so, then, Martha. And now, lass, give me a buss ! Come, give me one, all o’ ye ! Hay, nay, no whimpering ! I tell ye, I shall soon come back. Good bye, my lass ! Good bye, all o’ ye ! ” And away went J ack manfully along, despising his manacles, and rejoicing that he could reflect they were placed on his limbs wrongfully. The constable often looked compassionately at his prisoner; but Jack only smiled. “You look doleful, Mr. Barnabas,” he said to the constable; “ but why should ye ? If you had handcuffed me for a thief or a murderer, and I knew I was one, I should not step so lightly to Willowacre. I’m thankful, considering what a tussle one has to get a bit o’ bread for one’s-self and wife, and to fill the poor childer’s mouths, that I’ve never done aught very far wrong; and that I know I don’t deserve to have these queer things put on my hands.” “ And I didn’t put ’em on willingly, J ack,” said the constable. “ I know you didn’t, Mr. Barnabas ; and so don’t grieve any longer about it. They’ll soon take ’em off when I get to Wil- lowacre.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 187 r Thus cheerily went on the fiddler till they reached the bridge over the Slowflow. Mrs. Markpence came to the toll-gate, shook her head sorrowfully and mysteriously when Jack asked after her husband, but answered not a word; and hastily withdrew into the toll-house and shut the door, so soon as the company had passed through the gate, and she had refastened it. The constable gave Jack a significant look, and Jack felt his heart sink. “ Does this mean that Gregory Markpence is the man who is going to swear against meP’ thought Jack to himself; “it can- not be so. He can never be such a villain.” Poor Jack did not speak another word to the constable. Pie began to feel so confounded at his own thoughts, that he made a very sorry figure as they took him through the streets of Willow- acre, and the crowd began to swell and gaze at him. There were voices that would have cheered him, if he had not felt so lieart-smitten with suspicion of the toll-keeper’s ingratitude. His sorrowful look served to strengthen the sympathy of the crowd; and the constable and his assistants were compelled to use great exertion to keep themselves and their prisoner free from over-pressure. At last, they mounted the steps of the Guildhall, which, in spite of mayor’s officers and constables’ assis- tants, was speedily filled by the people from the streets. There was a general hiss when the little mayor Nicky, with Hugh Plombline and six other aldermen, entered the hall by an inner door, and took their seats in the character of magistrates. Nicky turned very pale, and almost sunk behind the large cushion, as he sat down under the carven canopy. Hugh Plombline, on the contrary, glanced haughtily on the crowd, and then bent down to whisper to Mr. Pomponius Pratewell, who sat below the bench as magistrates’ clerk. Mr. Pratewell immediately turned to the lofty peaked chair on one side of the council-table, where sat the crier of the court, with his white wand, and made a sign to him. The crier sprang up, and in stentorian tones pro- claimed — 188 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ O yes ! O yes ! O yes ! All persons are strictly commanded to keep silence in the court, on pain of imprisonment ! ” “ And I am ordered to say, in the name of their worships,” added Mr. Pomponius, “ that that proclamation is not meant as a mere form. If any sounds of disapproval, or other disrespect- ful noises, are repeated, the magistrates will immediately order the offenders into custody.” The crowded hall was awed into silence; but discontent was increased. Jack Jigg was placed at a bar temporarily erected, considerably within the one which held back the populace; and his handcuffs were taken off. Mr. Pratewell observed to the constable, that he supposed the warrant had been read to the prisoner; and, on learning that it had been read, said there was then no need to read it again. Which of the witnesses would their worships have called in first? Mr. Pratewell then asked; and Plombline again whispered. “ Nykin Noddlepate!” shouted the crier, catching the syllables as they fell softly from Mr. Pomponius. The crowd burst into laughter when the crier pronounced the old fiddler’s name ; the crier bellowed “Silence!” and Jack ground his teeth with vex- ation. The witness stumbled in on his wooden leg, and looked lout- ish as he was put into the box. He was a tall, ungainly man, with small pinking eyes, which never opened more than a mere fragment of an inch when they looked at you, and had a forehead most “ villainous low,” though his head generally was large. The book was put into his hand, and the oath administered ; but Mr. Pratewell, keeping his eye on the man’s behaviour, had to cry loudly — “ Kiss the book!” observing that Nykin was only mak- ing a sham of that part of the oath-taking. There was breathless silence among the crowd so soon as the examination of the wit- ness began. “ Ho you know the prisoner?” asked Mr. Pratewell. u I do. I’ve known him this twenty year,” replied Nykin. “ Hid you see him on the night of the eleventh of November?” ALDERMAN RALPH. 189 “ Yes. I saw him helping to break down the toll-gate at the bridge.” “ You confounded old liar!” cried Jack ; unable to restrain himself. The noise also recommenced in the hall; and some minutes elapsed before the crier could obtain the silence he called for. “ Did you see him for a considerable time, or only shortly and suddenly ?” resumed the clerk. “ Oh ! for above an hour,” answered Hykin, confidently ; “ I might have said for several hours ; but I mean an hour at the bridge.” “ And what did you note of the prisoner’s behaviour during that time?” “ He helped to throw the toll-gate into the river when he saw it was broken down by some of the rabble; but I don’t know who any of them were — not one.” “ Do you mean that you don’t know one of the persons who joined to break down the gate?” “ Hot one.” “ Then you did not see the prisoner assist to break down the gate?” “ He threw it into the river — that is, I mean, he helped to throw it in; but he lifted the greater part of the weight him- self.” “ Then you do not swear that the prisoner had any part in breaking the gate?” repeated the clerk. “ He has spoken to that before,” said Plombline, sharply. “Yes: certainly,” echoed Mr. Mayor Backstitch. “ And then,” went on Hykin, stimulated by the protection thus afforded him, and without waiting to be again questioned,* “ he cried, ‘ How let us give three cheers for Alderman Trueman; and then finish the work he has bidden us do, and for which he has promised to pay us well, my jolly lads!’ — and then” — But here a burst of execration against the false witness was vented from every mouth beyond the large bar; Hicky trembled, 190 ALDERMAN RALPH. even Plombline looked pale; and it was long before the crier could silence the people. “ Go on, witness, and finish what you were going to say,” said Plombline, observing that Mr. Pratewell had sat down in dis- gust. “ They shouted ‘ hurraw ! ’ three times,” continued Nykin, “ and then Jack Jigg — I mean the prisoner — laid hold of a part of the stone work on the bridge, and said, ‘ Lift lads ! ’ and some of the rabble helped him, till they had thrown it all down; and he did not give it up till it was all thrown down — every bit of it. He was the ringleader, all the while; and I don’t believe there would have been any riot, had it not been for him. When they had finished their job at the bridge, he led them back into the town, and some went into one public-house, and some into another. Jigg went into the Three Loggerheads ; and when they had all got jolly drunk, men and women, they came out into the street with two lighted flamboys, and begun to whoop and dance, while Jigg pretended to play his fiddle. But he was so drunk that he could not play in tune — but as for that, he can’t do much better when he’s sober” — “ You lying old murderer of catgut!” cried Jack in an incon- trollable rage, “ I’ll play you, drunk or sober, for fifty guineas — fifty shillings — fifty pence — or fifty farthings — in any town in all England ! You, ye pinking old owl ! to come here and swear all these black villainous lies against me, that never did ye any harm in my life ! I wonder ye are not afraid of being struck dead, you wicked wooden-legged old sinner that you are ! ” The storm of shouting and laughter prevented J ack from saying more ; but he stood, eyeing the false witness, and also Plombline and the mayor, with looks of fiery contempt. “ Prisoner!” said Plombline, so soon as the crowd were once more hushed, “ I warn you not to repeat the language you have just been uttering in this court ’ — a I can ’t help it, Mr. Plombline,” interrupted Jack; “ it’s scan- dalous that I’m to be treated in this way. And you ought to ALDERMAN RALPH. 191 be ashamed of sitting there and encouraging this old rascal. You don’t believe one word of what he has said. I’m sure you don’t” — “ Sirrah ! hold your saucy tongue ! ” cried Plombline, trembling with anger, “or the mayor will commit you.” “ Yes, I will : hold your tongue, sirrah ! ” echoed little Nicky. “ Let me advise you to be silent, Jigg,” said Mr. Pratewell, looking hard at Jack. Jack took the advice, though he felt it was almost more than he was able to practise. “ You may go down,” said Plombline to Nykin Noddlepate, with an expressive look, “ unless you have any thing more to say.” Nykin understood the look, and disappeared quickly. “ Call in the next witness — Markpence,” said Plombline to the crier. “ Gregory Markpence ! ” shouted the officer ; and then arose a tumult, which swelled to such a height when the toll-keeper appeared in the witness-box, that the old Guildhall shook from floor to rafters; and Plombline and little Nicky feared that the crowd would break the bar, and rush upon them. Plombline, at last, was fain to entreat Mr. Pratewell to make an essay towards calming the people. Mr. Pratewell complied at once; and the crowd, from respect to him as the lifelong friend of Alderman Ralph, held their peace; but they seemed in danger of breaking forth again, at every attempt which was made to proceed with the examination of the toll-keeper. Gregory kissed the book firmly when the oath was administered; and held up his head with such an air, that Jack, who had seen his lowering carriage, and marked it so well, during so many years, was astonished and shocked. “What a world of monsters it is!” thought poor Jack; “I might as well turn footpad or burglar at once, if every man to whom I do a really good turn is to become a cut-throat to me, in this way ! ” “ Do you know the prisoner? ” said Mr. Pratewell to Gregory. 192 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ Perfectly well; and have known him nearly all his life,” answered Gregory, slowly and firmly. “ Did you see him on the night of the eleventh of Novem- ber ? ” “ Yes. I saw him in Meadowbeck churchyard.” Mr. Pomponius stared and hesitated, and then looked at the bench. Plombline and the mayor stared also, but they did not speak. There was a dead silence in the hall; and the entire scene, mingled with the remembrance of the “spirit’al Go back!” was so tickling to Jack, that, in spite of his dangerous circum- stances, he had much ado to keep from laughter. “ You are the toll-keeper at the bridge?” resumed Mr. Prate- well; “ did you see the prisoner near the toll-gate on the night of the eleventh?” “No!” answered Gregory, and pronounced the monosyllable so thunderously, that he made the whole bench start ; “ and I solemnly swear that he was not near the toll-gate during the whole night — unless he was fool enough to jump in, after it was hurled into the river, and cuddle it. I know you have all hated me for years; and taken me for a rogue, just because I kept the toll-gate. But, perhaps, there are some who are bigger rogues than Gregory the toll-keeper, though they hold their heads higher in the world. I am not such a rogue as to swear an innocent man’s life away; and they that sent for me here, thinking I would do it, are great fools — to say no worse. I swear that I met that man, Jack Jigg, in Meadowbeck churchyard, just as the clock struck one that very night ; and that he was not near the bridge till long after the riot.” “ Hurraw ! well done, Markpence ! hurraw ! ” the crowd shouted. Plombline turned to talk with the mayor and the six aldermen. The mayor evidently assented very energetically to what Hugh Plombline was saying; but the six aldermen seemed to listen like mere negatives, and men disinclined to take any part in the affair, save that of being present. Plombline intimated to Mr. Pratewell, that he himself would continue Markpence’s examina- ALDERMAN RALPH. 193 tion so soon as silence could be liad ; and Mr. Pratewell gladly sat down. “ Pray, Mr. Markpence,” began Plombline, " since I suppose you were present when the riot took place, can you tell us about what time that was in the evening?” “ I believe you can guess the time pretty sharply yourself, Mr. Plombline,” answered Gregory, “ since it was just after you and the rest showed me so much politeness at the Wheat Sheaf” — “ Don’t grin, and show your rudeness here, sir !” said Plomb- line, fiercely ; “ but answer the question.” “ Well, then, I suppose it began about nine o’clock, or soon after.” “ And what time do you suppose it was over ? ” “ Before eleven, I should say; or not later than eleven.” “ Did you leave the toll-house immediately ? ” “No; I stayed to get a mouthful of supper before I set off to Meadowbeck, to get Lawyer Threap to Write to Sir Nigel and describe what had been done to the bridge. It was striking one when I met Jack Jigg in the churchyard.” “ J ust so : I have not a doubt that you are speaking the truth, Mr. Markpence. But since you had time to get your supper, and also to walk to Meadowbeck between the time that the riot at the bridge ended and the hour of one — had not the prisoner time also to walk from the bridge to Meadowbeck by that hour ?” “ He did no such thing. I met him coming from a wedding- party. He was coming from quite an opposite side of the church- yard. I tell you, I swear that he was not at the bridge riot.” “ But you can swear no such thing,” said Plombline ; “ you cannot prove that he was not there.” “ I swear that I don’t believe he was,” said Gregory. “ Then, sir, your swearing is of no worth. We have had evidence, given on oath, that he was there; and therefore you may go down.” And Gregory went down. “ Do you call any witness, Jigg?” asked the clerk. VOL. I. O 194 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ I have sent my wife to Oatacre to fetch” — “ Have you any witnesses here ? ” said Mr. Pratewell, anxious to prevent J ack from saying too much. “ No; but they will, most likely, be here some time to-day” — • “ That will not do, sir,” said Plombline ; “ the magistrates cannot sit here to wait for your convenience. You must go to prison till Monday.” “ Yes: certainly,” added little Yicky. The court was then cleared, though with very great difficulty, and poor Jack was again handcuffed, and was taken to the borough jail. The crowd insisted on carrying Gregory Mark- pence home in triumph — so marvellously changed were the feelings of the people of Willowacre towards the hitherto hated toll-keeper 1 They watched for old Nykin Noddlepate; but the mayor and Plombline had him conveyed from the Guildhall, in disguise, and at night. Had the enraged crowd caught him, the false fiddler might have been in danger of his life. Hugh Plomb- line and the mayor were hooted to their homes, though they were surrounded by their officers and assistants. The streets of ancient Willowacre presented more unequivocal signs of a dispo- sition to riot that day, than they did even on the night of the attack on the bridge. At one time, appearances were very threatening in the neighbourhood of the Ped Lion ; and Solomon Topple timidly entreated Sir Yigel Yickem not to be seen at the bow- window. It was but an uneasy time for the man of title ; nor did he experience any relief till evening set in, and the crowd retired to their homes. ALDERMAN RALPH. 195 CHAPTER Y. Conference between the Baronet and his Prime Minister: the Baronet’s experiment at Lovesoup House, and its Result. Darkness, amidst which foul, dastardly, and ignoble animals find their occasion, fell thick over old Willowacre that night, save where a few dim oil-lamps marked the line of the High Street, and the entrances to the principal inns. Avoiding the light over the front door of the Red Lion, Lawyer Threap stole in by the back entrance, and through the stable-yard. He had remained in the Guildhall inner-chamber till dusk, having been favoured by the mayor, in the morning, with a secret corner behind the canopied chair, where, unseen, he could see and hear all that passed. Sir Nigel Nickem professed himself greatly relieved by Threap’s visit; and eagerly inquired what success had attended the examination of the rioter. “ He is remanded for further examination till Monday,” said Threap ; “ but I don’t believe he’ll be committed for trial ; although he is such a mischievous scoundrel that I don’t think any body was more likely to lead the riot. He has cunning and impudence enough for any thing. But, unluckily, the only witness against him is a greater scoundrel than himself, and one whose word, even on oath, no sensible man credits. The mayor and Plombline received this fellow’s offer to give evidence. He itched after the fifty pounds’ reward, of course. And, besides, he hates the other fellow who has been examined this morning; for they are rival fiddlers. He has so overdone his work, how- ever, that his evidence is preposterous.” “ But is it altogether false?” asked the baronet. 196 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ I don’t believe it is,” answered Threap; “ I understand, the constable and the watchmen could have proved that the prisoner was fiddling to the dancers in the street, some hours after the riot at the bridge; and I hold that that looks shrewdly sus- picious of his having been at the riot itself. But the worst of this examination was, that Markpence the toll-keeper would not swear that he recognised the prisoner as one of the rioters ; but, on the contrary, affirmed his belief that the fiddler was not one of them, since he met the fiddler in Meadowbeck churchyard when Markpence came to request me to write the first letter to yourself. 5 * “ So that this toll-keeper has prevented the prisoner from being fully committed for trial '? 55 “ Why, yes : that's about it, Sir Nigel.” “ I’ll have that fellow out of the way, Threap. It is to his impudence or silliness that I owe all this trouble to which I am put. My friend, Mr. Pevensey, assures me of that. And now, though he has done me so much mischief, he has the still greater impudence to prevent the punishment of the rioters. I’ll be quit of him. Luckily, his lease of the toll-gate expires in the course of a fortnight. And so, give him notice to quit, Threap.” “ His conduct fully justifies your resolution, Sir Nigel; but is it irrevocable? or would you allow me to think about it, and advise you upon it in a day or two’s time? You know there is the old objection : the Trueman party might regard this man’s discharge from the toll-house as a triumph.” “ W ell, I’ll give you a day or two to think about it, Threap. I know it is better not to be precipitate . 55 So Threap gained what he wished for : the means of torment- ing Gregory Markpence, and, at the same time, leisure for essaying another scheme he was bent upon. “ How fares your negotiation with the wizard?” said Sir Nigel, turning to another subject. “ Can’t make any report, as yet,” answered Threap ; “ have scarcely had time to lime the twigs. Yet the bird must be caught.” “ The search is really begun, I suppose?” ALDERMAN RALPH. 197 “ Yes : blit it proceeds very slowly. Sidrophel spends an iiour in poring over every bit of parchment he finds, if it happens to be dated one hundred years back, or more. I take care that he is looked after ; and hope to report something worth hearing, shortly.” “Well, Threap, we cannot get further with business now, To-morrow is Sunday, and I intend to go to church” — • “ Good policy, Sir Nigel ! ” “I think so, Threap. You’ll call again, then, on Monday. Good-morning ! ” Later in the evening, when the quiet of the town was in some degree restored, Sir Nigel ordered out his carriage, and was driven to Lovesoup House. Alice had been listening some hours for the sound of those wheels. She felt sure that there would be a visit that day; and received Sir Nigel without the discompo- sure she had shown the day before. “ I thought I might take the liberty to call, and express a hope that Miss Pevensey is better to-day.” “ So I shall repeat to my brother,” answered Alice, looking fixedly at her visiter; “has Sir Nigel Nickem any wish to address Alice Pevensey on a subject to which her brother is, as yet, a stranger ?” “I have. Shall I be permitted 1 ?” “Will Sir Nigel Nickem be seated? No: not this chair: that — if you please.” “You command me to a distance, Alice; and I have de- served it.” “Ho you not deserve it now?” “ If the repentant criminal may find grace, I trust I do not.” “ Of what nature is your repentance ? ” “ I abhor myself for my unfaithfulness to one who deserved a love a thousand times richer than mine, although mine was fervent” — “ But fickle, perhaps, you would say. And what is your plea of excuse for fickleness? I suppose you have one.” “ Alice, I was young and inexperienced. I was entrapped. 198 ALDERMAN RALPH. The relatives of one I need not name, surrounded me with baits, and I was snared and caught” — “ Enough! you are older now: so am I. You confess to unfaithfulness and fickleness. Any thing more?” “ I ask forgiveness; but shall never forgive myself.” “ You are forgiven ; and I shall never forgive myself.” “ Alice! Forgiven — did you say? Yet your look is like marble ! I would throw myself at your feet ; I would entreat you” — “ Would you, indeed, repeat the old romance at Naples?” “ Do not call it a romance, Alice, I loved you truly, and I am sure my love was returned. I never loved another. I have never ceased to love yourself. I would have returned to wring forgiveness from you; but I dared not. I found your brother, and I cleaved to him for your sake, as well as for his own. I was often on the point of confiding my love to him; and of entreating him to use a brother’s tender influence with you, on my behalf. But it was not until I had your personal invitation here, that I conceived I might hope. Alice! you said I was forgiven?” “ Yes. For it is our duty to forgive. And as I feel that I should be miserable if I hated any one, it is also my interest to forgive. But I told you that I should never forgive myself. If I did, I might again fall into the foolish error of believing you.” “ You do not disbelieve me, Alice. You do not disbelieve me, when I say now that I love you deeply, and that I love no other woman in the world?” “ I do disbelieve you.” “ Alice, you cannot, you shall not. I swear, by all that is sacred, that my whole heart is yours. You have already acknowledged that you have forgiven me. Complete the act of grace ! Admit me again to favour — if it be only a probationary one. Try me. Name a period after which you will decide my fate. Or, be all your generous self, and cancel my sin at once. Consent to be my bride ; and let my bliss be consummated soon ! ” “ Sir Nigel Nickem,” said Alice, rising and standing by her ALDERMAN RALPH. 199 chair, u we will now put an end to the drama. I was determined to sit and see you play out your part. I could never be the bride of a man who is wilfully attempting to deceive me. I have only one request to make : that while you are received here, as my brother’s friend, with respect — and that I shall take care to show you — you will never presume to recur to this theme again in my brother’s hearing, or in mine” — “ Never in your brother’s hearing till you give me leave, Alice ” — u Remember that pledge, sir ! for if you break it, either in relating what passed between us two years ago, or what has passed now, I shall consider myself released from the duty of showing respect to my brother’s friend.” “ Rut, to yourself, Alice! You do not, you cannot absolutely forbid the renewal of my suit. You cannot consign me to misery ! ” A smile of scorn was Alice’s last answer. - She rung the bell strongly. Her maid had been instructed to give instant attend- ance to it. And Sir Nigel Nickem was compelled to bow and retire, and roll back to the Red Lion; there to worry himself with chagrin, as he reviewed the incidents of his brief interview, and recalled the image of Alice Pevensey’s cold and inflexible collectedness ;. and then to resolve and plot afresh how he might yet be able to bend her to his purposes; and to mingle with these thoughts, guesses as to the discovery he might make in the parish church of Willowacre on the morrow. 200 ALDERMAN RALPH, CHAPTER YI. The Baronet, on his own Errand, at Church: his Behaviour there; and the Discoveries he made. There was a mighty bustle in tlie church porch of Willow- acre, as the baronet’s coacli, with its liveried and powdered lacqueys, bearing their silver-knobbed sticks, drew up at the gate. The beadles were about to close the great inner doors of the porch, and to shut in the worshippers from outer disturbance by the world ; for the aged vicar and his curate, and the parish clerk, had just walked up the great aisle, and the solemn organ was booming. Sir Nigel was in the porch before the beadles could fully reset open the inner doors ; and that done, they almost ran before him up the great aisle, staring right and left, like men with bewildered wits, and not able to decide what pew they should open for him. Suddenly, if flashed across the brain of one of them, that the large empty pew of the deceased Alderman Lovesoup, which was still hung with huge folds of lugubrious black, was just the thing for a man of Sir Nigel’s rank. And the acute beadle would certainly have inducted the great man thither, if the pew had not been locked, and his memory had not failed him as to where he could find the key. The beadle knew that the pew-door was locked when he tried it; but yet he continued to tug at it, and then to look over it, and then to make wry faces and tug at it again, as if he wished to draw the severe censures of all the congregation, that was looking on, upon that pew-door for its ill-natured and wicked resistance to him, a poor beadle in a strait. The baronet stood witnessing the man’s red-faced efforts till he grew crimson himself, and yet was afraid he should laugh. A gentle touch on his right arm drew his attention; and there ALDERMAN RALPH. 201 was the little mayor Nicky, cringing and bowing, and inviting him to share the mayoral seat. Sir Nigel saw that it was large; and so did not hesitate to share the crimson velvet cushion with the worshipful Nicholas Backstitch. What ex- ultant pride swelled the heart of Mr. Nicky, conscious of the greatness that sat, or stood, beside him during that forenoon, and rendered him, the chief magistrate of Willowacre, the wearer of a double glory ! The man of hereditary rank scarcely remembered the ephe- meral dignitary, except to despise him. Sir Nigel’s first source of gratification arose from the position of the mayor’s pew. He soon discerned that it gave him an equally commanding view of the senior alderman’s family seat, and of the pew in which sat Gilbert Pevensey and Alice. May Silverton ! the vision of her face did indeed make “purple riot” in the heart of Sir Nigel Nickem ! Her eyes were directed once fully towards him by girlish curiosity ; but they were almost immediately withdrawn, when she perceived how piercingly his gaze was fixed upon her. He forgot to be stealthy ; lost all remembrance of where he was, and that hundreds of eyes were upon him; — forgot his very existence; and only burned to see those long silken eyelashes uplifted again, and to catch that glance once more. But May’s eyes remained downcast until the sense of his situation forced itself upon him ; and then his eyes met those of Alice; and he saw that she who knew him so well had watched him, and read the thoughts of his heart about May Silverton ! How mean the beauty of Alice Pevensey seemed to his fickle judgment, swayed as it was by a degree of spite at that moment, and almost blinded by passionate admiration of a new face ! He took refuge from confusion in the prayer-book, and forced himself to join the congregation, as they followed the clerk in repeating the alternate verses of the psalms for the day. Be- minding himself of that other purpose for which he had come thither, he re-asserted his self-possession, and by repeated, but unobtrusive glances, certified the correctness of his own suspi- 202 ALDERMAN RALPH. cion, that Gilbert Pevensey’ s heart was devoted to May Silver- ton. His friend’s eyes were ever wandering to her face; and the changes of Gilbert’s countenance, so familiar as all its work- ings were to him, left him no doubt of his friend’s passion. May never looked at Gilbert; but in the constraint of those eyes, for ever cast on her book, though he observed that she never turned over the leaves, Sir Nigel read a more unwelcome truth — that her heart was also in the possession of another ; and he could scarcely doubt that that was Gilbert Pevensey. He felt sure, too, that he had made another, and an unex- pected discovery: that the tall, intellectual-looking youth who sat or stood beside May Silverton, was devoutly enamoured of Alice Pevensey. Who or what this youth was, since Edgar Tichborne’s features bore no resemblance to those of May or her uncle, the baronet could not conjecture. It was another problem he would propose for Threap’s solution. Whether Alice recipro- cated this youth’s attachment, he could not divine. She pre- served the marble look and air she had worn on the preceding evening. Sir Nigel was not entirely unobservant of the behaviour of his grand enemy, the senior alderman. “ If that man were my friend,” he thought, “ how I should admire and esteem him ! Is it possible to win him by any wile, or even by a sacrifice f’ Prom the thought of sacrifice he revolted. He had never made one in his life. Selfishness was enthroned in the heart of Sir Nigel Nickem. He was his own deity. He knew nothing, cared nothing, about any other deity. He had not spent one moment in his whole life in thinking about it. He believed in pleasure, in self-gratification. He delighted to see others happy, when they were instrumental to his pleasures; but he could bear to look on their misery, if they were of no importance to his interests; and could delight in increasing their anguish, if they opposed him. No; he would not make aisacrifice to that man, even to gain May Silverton. He would rather win her by guile, and break that man’s proud heart. ALDERMAN RALPH. 203 The good vicar preached, and some parts of the sermon sank deep into the heart of Alderman Ralph, and gave him uneasi- ness. But Sir Nigel Nickem only heard phrases without mean- ing, delivered by an old man whose trade it was to preach. He had no other idea of sermons and clergymen. The sermon was concluded, the benediction pronounced; and now all the baro- net’s powers of scrutiny were exercised. He did not care who noticed him. He was determined to watch that look of May Silverton. There it was ! Her eyes met Gilbert’s. There was such a heart-ache in them. Her nether lip quivered convul- sively, and the colour forsook her cheek, and then suffused it with crimson. Sir Nigel saw and understood it all ; but Gil- bert should never know that he understood it; nor would he understand the revelation, if Gilbert should ever attempt to make it. The beadles were at the door of the mayoral pew. It was the time-honoured custom of old Willowacre, that the chief magistrate should first go out of church; and so Nicky, with the baronet on his right, marched down the middle aisle. Sir Nigel patronisingly shook hands with his little worship, and bowed him away at the carriage door, but stood to wait for Mr. and Miss Pevensey. The three entered the coach, and were driven off to Lovesoup House. Gilbert Pevensey was gratified to see his sister’s health and self-possession restored, though he perceived that she could not be mirthful. And he did not wonder at it. He knew that she had formed a strong attach- ment to May Silverton, and must keenly regret the estrange- ment between himself and Alderman Ralph. As for himself, that one look from May had made Gilbert feel that he was, as yet, but on the threshold of misery. How he would be able to bear the more interior and prolonged experience of it, he could not tell. His “ valued friend” must think him very dull, he imagined ; but «Sir Nigel Nickem professed himself delighted with the company of Gilbert and his sister that afternoon. 204 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER VII. How Lawyer Threap spent the Sunday ; his clever Diplomacy with the Man of Learning ; but sorry Defeat by the Toll-keeper. He had said it was good policy in Sir Nigel Nickem to go to Willowacre church; and Threap, overseer of the poor for the parish of Meadowbeck, “ as in duty bound,” was himself at Mea- dowbeck church that forenoon. Threap shook hands with Par- son Perrywig, and praised the sermon, though he had not heard one word of it, from being intent on his own schemes; spoke civilly to old Farmer Jipps, but looked askance on young Jona- than ; and then stepped up to the learned Dingy leaf, who invari- ably spent the Sunday at Meadowbeck, and most urgently besought the great scholar’s company at dinner. The man of the world would not have dared to make such a proposal to the eccentric scholar some months before; but he had noted that there was a great change in the appearance of Dingyleaf’s out- ward man. The scholar was now neatly dressed as became a gentleman ; and was no longer distrait in his behaviour at church. Above all, the report was rife in the old borough, that Alderman Ralph had brought to light a mine of great qualities in Dingyleaf of the four pronomina, as a trencherman and table companion. Threap dearly loved good eating, and knew how hard it was for himself to refuse an invitation to a choice dinner. So the law- yer laid close siege to Dingyleaf, and tickled him with hints about woodcock and venison pasty, till he helplessly yielded. And Threap took care that it was no Barmecide entertainment when the hour came. Dingyleaf was hugely graphed ; and, when Threap thought his guest sufficiently primed by victual and wine, he bent himself to business. ALDERMAN RALPH. 205 “ My respects to you again, doctor,” lie said, raising tlie glass to liis lips, “ and glad to find you are coming out. Thought you would brush off the rust one of these days. Society does nothing for any of us, till we determine to do something for our- selves. You, now, with all your vast acquirements, might have died and rotted, for what the world would have cared, if you had not resolved to do something for yourself.” “ I began to perceive that,” returned Dingy leaf, whose frequent conversations with Alderman Dalpli were weaning him from his Latin, and rendering him more familiar with his mother tongue. “ And you obeyed the perception with an amount of determi- nation, ay, and skill — skill, too, doctor — that did you honour. That was a master-stroke, your rushing into the Guildhall that morning! You might say with — with — Socrates of Carthage, in the middle ages — what is it, doctor? — I conquered when I came and saw ’em — isn’t it, doctor?” “ Pooh, pooh, sir ! as my honoured friend, the senior alderman, would reply — I might say with Caesar ‘ Yeni, vidi, vici.’ Indeed I might — indeed I might ! ” and the scholar fidgeted and chuck- led in his chair. “ Yes, doctor; and you have many honoured and honourable friends. The senior alderman is not the only one. You can, now, have as many friends as you like. But, doctor,” and Threap leaned forward and touched his guest expressively on the arm, and looked knowingly into Dingyleaf ’s face, “ take care that you make their friendship worth having. You know your own sen- sible saying. Take care that society does something for you.” “ I mean to make it,” answered the scholar, who was growing warm with wine, and so could not help speaking his real thoughts. “ I’m glad of it. I honour you for it. My respects to you again, doctor.” “ Thank ye. Mine to you.” And Dingyleaf gulped til] he emptied the glass. Threap only pretended to do so. “ Doctor ! ” and Threap lowered his voice, and looked very confidential, “ I’m glad you prescribed no terms — no fixed sum 206 ALDERMAN RALPH. — to the corporation. You can now demand what you please — what you feel you have a right to demand. ” “ Hah ! ” exclaimed Dingyleaf, opening his eyes widely. “ What you feel you have a right to demand, I repeat. And you have ’em safe. For when you find the Deed, you can keep it secret till they come to your terms.” “ Hah ! ” and Dingyleaf ’s eyes resembled those of a Hudson’s Bay owl. “ Society will do nothing for us, until we do something for ourselves.” “ It is wisely spoken,” returned the scholar, and shook his head profoundly, with the wine. “ Doctor ! you are the man of vast knowledge : I am the man of practice. There’s my hand!” — and Dingyleaf grasped it — “ Tell me when you have found the Deed, and I’ll compel them, by law, to give you your right — what you feel to be your right — before they have the parchment.” “ I will,” answered the scholar, solemnly. Beyond that point the lawyer would not attempt to go at the first sitting. Yet he returned to it, twice or thrice, during the evening; and drew forth a confirmation of Dingy leaf’s promise. Agreeing to dine again with Threap on the following Sunday, the scholar asked and obtained leave to retire to his home early. Threap had other business. He loaded a pistol, and put it within the breast of his great-coat; and then took his way towards the toll-house at Willowacre, in pursuance of a message demanding an interview, which he had sent to Gregory Markpence. Gregory opened the gate, preceded Threap into the house, and closed the door, without saying a word. It was not a very late hour of the night; but Gregory had ordered his wife and daughter to get up-stairs to bed, that himself and his visiter might have neither hearers nor spectators of what they might say or do. “ What ye have to say, say soon and without noise,” began Gregory, standing with folded arms, and at some distance from ALDERMAN RALPH. 207 Threap, who kept near the door, and held his right hand under the breast of his great-coat. “ I am sorry for what happened, Markpence ; and I am come to atone for it.” “How?” — and Gregory, repressing passion, compressed his lips strongly. “ By doing any thing that you can reasonably desire me to do. In the first place, your lease expires in a fortnight, and Sir Nigel was about giving me orders to signify that you were to quit. But I succeeded in getting him to withdraw his order — for it was really given. I am to advise him about it. And I have it in my power to get you a renewal of your lease, if” — “ I would not have it if I might live rent free, and my daugh- ter be subject to your vile trepanning tricks. Don’t you wish me to remain where I am, and her where she is, that you may lay hold of her again? You know that’s in your heart, you base lecherous villain ! ” “ You wrong me, Mr. Markpence. I am not so bad as you take me to be. Any man may make a slip; but, surely, he’s not to be set down for a heartless rascal on that account.” “You say you are sorry. What proof will you give of it? The renewal of my lease will be nothing out of your pocket. There are the five sovereigns you gave my girl,” and Markpence laid them on the table, and eyed the lawyer keenly. Threap loved gold, and he would have liked to clutch the sovereigns ; but he dared not. “ Nay, nay,” he said, constraining himself, “ I have caused you a deal of trouble. Put them up, and let us say nothing about that trifle.” “ It is a trifle, and not worth putting up,” said Gregory, con- temptuously. “What d’ye mean?” asked Threap. “ I mean that, before I put it up, you’ll make it considerably more.” Threap declared with an oath that he would not. Gregory 208 ALDERMAN RALPH. slowly took up a loaded gun from a recess. Threap presented his pistol. Gregory advanced towards the door, and Threap moved away from it, unthinkingly giving Markpence the oppor- tunity of placing his back against the door. “ Now, you infernal rascal,” said the toll-keeper, “ point that thing at me again if you dare ! If you do, I will call my wife and daughter down ; and, even if you fire and kill me, they will have you hung for a murderer. And if you don’t make that money up to twenty pounds six and eightpence — six and eight- pence, you remember why ! — I’ll call ’em down, and we’ll all three swear you came here to rob or murder us ! ” “ You don’t mean to be such an unreasonable fool, Markpence ! ” “ Speak lower, sir ! I do — and so down with the money.” Threap drew out his purse and laid down the money; not knowing how to get out of his scrape; and thinking he would be even with the toll-keeper some other way. “ There,” said Gregory, “ put those pretty things in your pocket ! ” and threw the ribbons at him which he had given to Margery. Threap threw them into the fire. “ The wisest thing you’ve done yet ! ” said Gregory ; “ they’ll please no other poor baby. Now, sir, mark me! You are at liberty to go ; and I will never touch a hair of your head, nor injure you by thought, word, or deed — so long as you leave me and mine uninjured and unmolested. You have paid for your error, and to my satisfaction — for I love money. But if you ever repeat your villainy, take my solemn assurance that I will send a bullet through your head, either in the dark or by daylight, if I be hung for it ! ” The lawyer was going towards the door; but he stopped. “ About the lease,” he said ; “ do you refuse to have it renewed?” “ No. If it pleases Sir Nigel Nickem.” “ But you have not pleased him. You prevented the prisoner from being fully committed for trial yesterday.” “ Don’t tempt me to renew the old subject. It was that man that baffled you in your villainy, and saved my child, you know ! ALDERMAN RALPH. 209 Besides, if lie had not done me a kindness for which I can never repay him — do you think I would swear against a man that T know to be innocent'?” “May be, they’re all innocent in your eyes, now!”— and the lawyer ventured a grin ; “ they brought you home on their shoul- ders yesterday ! ” “ And I thought them great fools for their pains ; and would have helped to imprison any one of ’em the same hour, if I had recognized any one of them as being among the rascals that hooted me down the street, and then broke down the toll-gate.” “ You would]” “ Yes. I hate all the scum of Willowacre. I have always hated them, and they have always hated me; and all for Sir Nigel’s sake.” “ That’s enough ! I’ll take care you have the lease.” Threap quitted the toll-house, Gregory let him repass the gate, and he thought, as he retraced his way to Meadowbeck — “ Yes, I’ll take care he has the lease. The cage shall remain where it is; but I’ll have the bird out of it yet, or I’ll forfeit my name. And I’ll have the money back, too. Yes, he must remain. He does hate the Willowacre folks. The baronet must not lose him. At least, not yet.” Gregory closed the door, and then gave way to the feelings of exultation natural to his character. He laughed noiselessly, writhed, and doubled himself, saying within, “ I’ve done him ! I’ve overreached Be’lzebub ! I’ve got Threap’s money ! I’ve made him cash up for it ! That’s what I call sensible. And I shall get the new lease. Oh yes ! I know the rascal means to have hold of her yet. But she shall not out of my sight, with- out her mother is with her. And if, in spite of care, he should kidnap her again — I’ll shoot him ! ” VOL. i. p 210 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER VIII. How the Sunday passed with Jack Jigg in prison ; and with May and Edgar at Alderman Ralph’s: the Alderman’s serious Reflections are described, and the Fourth Book concludes. “ If there were no law there would he no living,” was another of the favourite proverbs of our minstrel. “ People,” he would say, “ should not always be permitted to do just as they like, if they like to do wrong.” It is clear, therefore, that sensible and honest Jack was not one of your lawless thinkers or brawlers. He believed that law and right-doing were good things ; and that wrong-doing ought to be prevented by the law, and punished by it. Not that he admired going to law, or had ever gone to law, when he was wronged. He could bear and forbear. But he believed law to be a good thing for society ; and that a prison was a very humane contrivance of society for those who had broken the law, since it must impress a sense of the folly of error upon a man’s mind, and lead a man to healthful reflec- tion. Our minstrel had thus theorised before ever he went to prison. How did he find experience square with his theory 1 ? We will see. In the borough jail of Willowacre, Jack Jigg and the rest of the prisoners heard prayers twice, and a sermon by the chaplain, that Sunday. But there was nothing, either in the manner of reading the prayers, or in the matter of the sermon, that was calculated to make the hearers better men; while the conversa- tion of the prisoners with each other tended to make them worse. It was the first time Jack had been in a prison ; and he now felt that it was no wonder so many went thither twice and oftener, who had been thither once. Jack was forced to be the confi- dant of villanies, or he saw that he would draw ill-treatment upon himself. His companions boasted of having committed all ALDERMAN RALPH. 211 crimes but murder. They rehearsed their adventures with a zest that made the fiddler shudder; but he dared not show it. And some of them told their tales with so much spirit, and made the hair-breadth escapes of their lives of theft and burglary so interesting, that Jack’s skin began to creep with a fear that he was becoming smitten with the thievish spirit, and would be compelled to try his hand when he got into the world again. “ Nay,” thought Jack, “ 111 chop my fingers off, sooner!” And yet the fear so troubled him, that he wished he were out of the hearing of those devil’s lessons. He tried to abstract himself ; but it was in vain. One fellow told his tale with so much vivacity and sense of enjoyment, that Jack yielded helplessly to the cap- tivation of the story. In the end, he was glad he had listened. The man had related half a dozen tales about “ cracks with the jemmy,” the last tale always more full of wild and guilty interest than the one before it — when he suddenly changed his manner; and, laying aside the thieves’lingo, dashed into a narrative of his ad- ventures as a smuggler. The scene of this part of his history was at first laid along the sea-coast ; but soon it came nearer home. “ Some folks, little think,” he said, “ how some other folks, that hold their heads up pretty high in the world, are as deep in the mud as a poor dog like me is in the mire. I know one of your great gentlefolks now, in this neighbourhood, who does a deal in the contraband line. He supplies some shops that I know of, with- in a dozen miles of this borough, regularly with tobacco; and nets a pretty sum by it, mind ye ! In another direction — for he’s all alive to the danger of doing too much business in one place — he supplies spirits of all sorts to certain ale-houses. Ill warrant it, I could walk to his vault in the orchard within an hour, if I were out of doors, and find a jolly cargo of stuff. He goes off in a gig — in a gig, you understand ! — to do business of another sort ; but he never goes without the gig. And his clients — I was going to say — but I mean his customers, alwayr come to him in gigs, and go away in gigs, you understand ? rare convenient thing is a good large-bottomed gig; and it’s 212 ALDERMAN RALPH. always respectable, you know. Nobody can be suspected of doing an ungenteel thing that keeps a gig.’* The man then dashed off into an exciting narrative of the dangers and delights of contraband enterprise. J ack wished he would come back to the respectable man with the gig; but no return was made to that mysterious personage. The fiddler, how- ever, treasured up the few hints; felt sure that he knew to whom they pointed ; and resolved he would, so far as his needful care for daily bread permitted, watch a certain orchard when he regained his liberty. That Sunday afternoon and evening were passed in a remark- able and reflective stillness by Mr. Ralph and May and Edgar. It was scarcely interrupted save by a very few words spoken at dinner, and by May reading to her uncle, at his particular request, a part of the Sermon on the Mount. Mr. Ralph and his friends never frequented their old and beloved resort on Sunday even- ings ; the learned Dingy leaf went home on Sundays ; Mr. Ralph had forbidden Mr. Pevensey his house; and although he might have sought company by a visit to the house of some one of his old friends, he felt inclined rather to sit and try to think out some thoughts which had troubled him ever since the good vicar’s morning sermon. He thought the children — as he often termed May and Edgar — “ very good,” that they did not disturb him, either by over much talk at the dinner-table, or by mani- festing restlessness during the evening. They were but children in his reckoning, and he little imagined that the canker of dis- content was at both their young hearts. May saw that there was some deep concern in her uncle’s mind; but did not guess its subject: she only hoped it might be regret for the quarrel with Gilbert Pevensey. Her own mood made silence very desirable to herself. Gilbert’s eyes, which she had seen once, though she had vowed before she went to church that she would not see them, had told her that he was enduring a heart- ache, perhaps as poignant as her own. From Alice she had caught several glances of affection ; and yet ALDERMAN RALPH. 213 May wondered at tlie peculiarly constrained look of Alice during nearly the whole time they were in church, and could not help surmising it had some source in the baronet’s presence there. The gaze of the baronet himself had filled May’s mind with an indefinable dread of him : a fear that she was in danger from him — for she could not, now she had read the first lessons of passion, doubt that there was evil in his looks. Yet how could he be the “ valued friend” of Gilbert Peyensey, if he were a badly-disposed man? There would be some revelation about this Sir Nigel from Alice, she thought, very soon. She was sure that Alice had looked an assurance that their friendship was unbroken. And she would, therefore, try to wait until they could meet, and then most likely, much — very much — would be explained. Thus whispered that stricken heart to itself. But how hard it was to wait ! And yet there was no other remedy. Edgar Tichborne was experiencing so much misery from what he conceived to be the changed behaviour of Alice, that he wished he had continued to indulge a hopeless affection for May, rather than have entertained thoughts of another. What it was that changed Alice he could not conjecture; for she had looked, that morning at church, as if she had no love or kindness left for any body. He had not met her for several days, although he had anxiously frequented their old walks. The reports of the baronet’s visits to Lovesoup House, brought by little Davy to his mother, reached the ears of Edgar as well as of May ; and Edgar could only couple them with the fact of the disagreement between the alderman and Mr. Pevensey, and endeavour to draw an obscure conclusion that Alice Pevensey’s behaviour was influenced by both. Time must work out the problem. Edgar must wait ; but he also felt it hard to do so. He sat with a book, not reading it ; but undesirous of disturbing the silence. Alderman Ralph’s heart and judgment, new feelings and old thoughts, were in contention within him ; and he sat earnestly struggling to be at one with himself. Until recent occurrences 214 ALDERMAN RALPH. had developed liis hostility to the Nickem interest into energetic action, that hostility had simply been — his idea. Sown in his mind by his family, when a child, and cultured by association and reflection, it had stricken deep root, and grown up strongly. The Nickem interest had come to be an embodiment, in his mind, of all that was evil. It was the grand wrong against which he, the representative of the true municipal interest of Willowacre, was bound to contend. It was an abhorrent injustice which he ought, at the risk of any personal sacrifice, to endeavour to sweep from the earth. So long as this hostility remained an idea, it had not checked, but rather quickened and invigorated, the natural benevolence of Ralph Trueman. The more he practised goodness, the less, he felt, he resembled a Nickem. The oftener he became the friend and protector of the oppressed, the less he resembled the oppressor. The idea had thus reposed in his mind, and exercised there the virtues of a spiritual magnet with a repellent pole. But his case was very different now the idea was developed into action. He was making enemies where he had no expectation of seeing them rise up ; and he was voluntarily rejecting friend- ships. His cheerfulness had fled. Life was no longer one un- broken series of pleasing moments and hours for him. And, worst of all, one severe conviction was forcing itself on his mind, now his hitherto ideal hostility had a personal object before it : — he disliked, nay, he feared he hated, Sir Nigel Nickem. And yet Sir Nigel Nickem was a man of flesh and blood like himself, Ralph Trueman ; a man of like frailties and faults ; but might not Sir Nigel also have virtues and excellences'? And who was Ralph Trueman, that he must take upon him to treat any man, his equal before God, as if that man were only deserving of con- tempt and dislike, and were unfit to live? Suppose he, Ralph Truem.an, had been born a Nickem — yet he shuddered at the idea ! — might not he have entertained the same prejudices, the same notions of what was right, however wrong they might be, as this young baronet ? Had not he always disciplined his heart ALDERMAN RALPH. 215 to judge tenderly of the errors of others? Then why should he make this young man an exception, and refuse to hear a single plea in the young man’s behalf? Was this doing as one would be done unto? Above all, was it loving one’s enemy? Ah, there was the arrow from the good vicar s bow that had pierced him that morning! The preacher had sent it home with all the power of gentleness ; and Ralph Trueman in those moments had inwardly cried, “ Guilty, guilty ! ” Yes: he must alter his conduct towards Sir Nigel Nickem. ITe could not go on, violating his own conscience and making himself unhappy, in this manner. Not that he would cease to oppose the Nickem injustice. “Love your enemies” did not mean that you were to love their errors. You were not to love them with the love of admiration, but with the love of pity and compassion — because they were your brethren. The good vicar had shown that ; and it was clear that was the Divine Teacher’s meaning. Then he would be compassionate to this young man, personally. But he would oppose the injustice of his family. They had oppressed the corporation and people of Willowacre for ages. They had all along played the part of rogues and swindlers, as well as of tyrants. He was bound to wage war against them as robbers. His father, and grandfather, and great- grandfather had distinguished themselves in Willowacre by their lifelong hostility to this false, unjust, tyrannical family ; and they had bequeathed that hostility to him as a heirloom, in the form of a duty. And he would discharge it. No one should ever write on his grave that he was a recreant to the vows of his family, or a renegade from their just principles. He would persevere, whatever desertion of old friendships he might have to experience. Even if all deserted him, and he were left without one, he would persevere ! And Alderman Ralph fell asleep that Sunday night, with far deeper resolutions to persevere in this hostility to the Nickem interest, than to practise compassion towards the young man who embodied that interest in his own person. /. BOOK Y. ■tSjlirlj rapiiflq iusiritos ijp fonts nf ntantj ntnnfljs ; anit npxrafrs a rnmpisfn ijrangr in itjE pnsiiinn nf 'jiarfirs in iljt inranglj nf ‘Hiillnmairi, as null as in fin fnrtnnrs nf snnu nf iljt Cljijf Srinrs in tljis iisfnnj. / ALDERMAN RALPH. 219 BOOK V. CHAPTER I. Which opens the Fifth Book with some reflections intended for the Reader’s Benefit, and narrates two striking Events : the one sorrowfully important to the Fiddler; the other very astounding and mortifying to the Lawyer. Thou art sometimes angry, lionest reader, with the rascal part which is played by some who are dressed in a little brief authority in this world. I do not deny that thou doest well to be angry ; but, permit thy author to say, it should be with a measure. There are many reasons why our indignation at rascality should be tempered and restrained. Perhaps, if we were thoroughly acquainted with him who seems to play the part of rascal, we should find that he really knows no better : for there is more ignorance in this world of the plainest duties of life than some people think for. Perhaps we should discover that such a man is but the tool of others ; and, if a conscious tool, bitterly curses the fate which, he imagines, compels him to play the rascal. Or he may have become soured by oppression, until, for a miserable revenge, he turns round and saith, “ I have been bitten, and now I have a chance I’ll bite.” I might swell these possibilities; but, without beating the bush for other reasons, I take the liberty, reader, to place before thee two grand reasons why thy indignation at rascality, and mine, should be restrained. First, we have had our own rascali- ties. It would be hypocrisy, and render the sin double, to deny it. Our rascalities have been little, it may be. Let us hope 220 ALDERMAN RALPH. they have. But there they lie in our memories, and they ought to humble us, and render us charitable. Secondly, there is a retribution for rascality, even in this world. It is, most assuredly, a part of the order of things here. No man, for instance, ever oppresses others but he either suffers for the evil he inflicts, or he rouses a spirit in the oppressed which tends to lessen oppression generally. Bobbers and murderers, kings and tyrants, may imagine they are exempt from this law of retribution; but they are mistaken. One tyrant may hold his power and pomp, and die revelling in his luxury ; his son, or his son’s son may succeed to the tyranny, and seem to hold it as safely ; but, sooner or later, the retribution will come. That little affair in French history, towards the close of the last century, may serve to verify this assertion for thee, reader. Fret not thy heart because of the evil-doers in the world around thee, nor weep for the wrongs of poor Jack Jigg in this instructive history of Willowacre! I promise thee his wrongs shall come home to his oppressors, all in good time. But they must first fill up the measure of their iniquity — this Amoritish Backstitch, Plombline, and Threap. And, as yet, their vessel of sin lacks much of being full. But they are well-minded to fill it: heartily set upon that: impatient that they cannot fill it more quickly. Yerily, they will have their reward! — Let us attend to the history. It was considerably past noon before the doors of the Guildhall were opened on Monday morning. His little worship and Hugh Plombline had delayed the re-examination of poor Jack, until they could again take counsel with Lawyer Threap. All seemed to promise fair for Jack’s speedy liberation at first. Young Farmer Bringle of Oatacre, a parish that joined the manor of Barleyacre, proved that the fiddler had been hired by himself to play at his wedding ; and had remained with the merry company at Oatacre all the day, and up to half-past eleven o’clock of the night in question. Ten other witnesses, members of the wedding- ALDERMAN RALPH. 221 party, each farmers’ sons dwelling in the neighbourhood, and of well-known character for uprightness, took oath, and corroborat- ed the testimony of Bringle. And, lastly, came young Jonathan Jipps, who not only strengthened the foregoing testimony, but declared that he left the wedding-party in the company of Jack Jigg, and did not quit the company of Jack till he turned off at the stile which led to his father’s house, and which was within a furlong of the churchyard of Meadowbeck; and that this was very shortly before he heard the church clock strike one. The proof of Jack’s alibi was thus so complete, that he was declared acquitted of the charge of breaking down the toll-gate and assisting in the riot at the bridge; and the crowd in the Guild- hall loudly cheered the declaration of acquittal. But all was not over. Jack was told that there was another charge against him. He had “ disturbed the public peace by playing his fiddle at untimely hours in the street of Willowacre ; and by encouraging a number of men and women also to break the peace by dancing, shouting, laughing, and singing ; and to the annoyance of peaceful people in their beds.” Honest Jack, seeing the six ancient watchmen appear, waited no longer than while two of them had given their evidence, and then addressed himself to the Bench. “ Your worships need not trouble the other watchmen to swear against me,” he said, in a respectful manner, for he felt his danger j u it is quite true that I was playing my fiddle in the street very early that morning. I would not tell a lie about it. I came to Willowacre on purpose. Gregory Markpence told me, when I met him in Meadowbeck churchyard, just as the clock had struck one, that there had been a great racket in the town, and how the folks had broken the toll-gate and part of the bridge. And so, when I parted with Markpence, I just went home to tell my wife where I was going to, and then I came direct to Willowacre with the thought that I might earn a trifle, as the folks might be — as it were — in heigh-go-lively — and — and might be disposed for a little music. That’s the truth.” 222 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ And an impndent truth it is, sir,” observed Hugh Flombline ; “ heigh-go-lively, indeed ! So, sir, although you knew there was a riot, you were determined to come and use all the dirty means in your power to prolong it. You have a deal of assurance, sir, to confess so much. It would have more become you, sir, not to have owned it.” “ Indeed, Mr. Plombline!” said Jack, “I did not know that. I thought it was always better to be open, and not to carry two faces under one hat. But I see that’s the new fashion here ! ” J ack’s honest indignation was expressed to his own detriment, though the crowd which filled the hall cheered him. Hugh Plombline’s agitation showed that he took home to himself the fid- dler’s allusion ; and he instantly said that, in his opinion, six months’ imprisonment with hard labour ought to be Jack’s punishment. “ What, Mr. Plombline ! ” cried the fiddler, “ is that the way in which you would treat a man who has struggled to get an honest living, and who has hitherto maintained a large family without asking the parish for a single farthing'? and who has” — “ Silence, sirrah ! ” cried Plombline, “ or you shall have another six months for insolence ! ” “ Yes : certainly,” added the little mayor Nicky. Mr. Prate well again entreated Jack to be silent, though the look of Mr. Pomponius showed how utterly he disapproved of poor Jack’s treatment. Plombline and the mayor now turned to whisper with the six other magistrates, who never opened their lips, but merely gave each a nod of stolid assent to what was pro- posed to them. The crier was then ordered to proclaim “ Silence !” and the mayor immediately sentenced Jack Jigg to six months’ imprisonment with hard labour in the borough jail. And thither, surrounded with a strong guard, the constable again conducted the prisoner. Poor Jack’s spirits sunk when he felt the handcuffs again on his wrists, and he found himself on the way to re-enter the hateful abode which he had hoped that morning that he had for ever quitted. But he resolved to make himself as happy as circumstances permitted, when Mr. Barnabas, ALDERMAN RALPH. 223 the constable, whispered in his ear while unlocking the handcuffs, as they stood within the prison-gate — “ Keep your heart up, Jack ! No honest man thinks the worse of you for all this. And Alderman Ralph requested me to tell you, that your wife and childer shall not want while you are here ; for he said he believed they wouldn’t let you go yet.” The imprisonment of Jack was gratifying to the mean, bad heart of Threap; but the lawyer saw that it gave no great pleasure to Sir Nigel Nickem, when he took the news to the Red Lion. “ This wretched fiddler’s confinement does not serve me,” said the baronet, discontentedly; “ what the devil have you and the mayor and Plombline been about, to let the fellow get off on the principal charge] Are you bamboozling me, Threap]” “ What do you mean, Sir Nigel]” “ Are you playing a game for the senior alderman and his party] You don’t think I shall be fool enough to remain here, just to see a child’s game going on, surely!” “ I don’t take you for a child who imagines that I am playing a game against you, Sir Nigel. But it is necessary to have a little patience.” “ I have shown more than a little, I think. Do the mayor and Plombline intend to summon a meeting of the corporation, and propose that the expense of repairing the bridge be paid] I am weary of these roundabout schemes of your’s, Threap. I would rather go slap at them with a lawsuit, at once.” Threap did not speak, but sat looking, with his odd misty eyes, so provokingly, that the baronet swore, and asked him what he meant. “ If I were to speak my thoughts you would only fly into a greater passion,” answered Threap, coolly. “ Nay, I wont. Speak at once. Say what you like.” “ Well, then, I was thinking that you must have forgot how you were bitten before by going slap at a lawsuit. While, if you had honoured me with your conf dence, I might, by one of 22 4 ALDERMAN RALPH. my roundabout schemes, as you wisely call ’em, have made Meadowbeck-common yours. You wish another meeting of the corporation to be called; but if it were to be called now, the vote would go against the mayor and Plombline — for only Solomon Topple could possibly be brought to support them in the proposition that you mention. And if the motion be put and lost, we might as well give up policy altogether. Now, every thing is proceeding as nicely as can be desired. Three of the corporation are gained; and judicious distribution of a little patronage will soon secure others” — “ Patronage, Threap ! why, I may go on patronising till I soon expend more in the scheme to get the bridge repaired by the corporation, than it would cost me to repair it myself!” “ But there is an important object that you must surely have thought of, Sir Nigel. An object which would be worth a thousand times more than the little you would have to expend on patronising a few tradesmen in Willowacre.” “ What wonder has entered your scheming brains now, Threap h I cannot guess what you mean.” “ The representation of this borough in Parliament.” Threap uttered these words with an evident expectation that they would startle Sir Nigel with delight. But he was dis- appointed. “ I care nothing about Parliament, Threap,” was the reply. “ The mere honour would be too expensive; and there is little chance of getting any thing out of the present administration : the Duke holds the purse strings very tight. And then he is as absolute as the Grand Turk. He regards himself as the field- marshal in the cabinet. Besides, I have always understood that it would be quite impossible to disturb Sir Clink Clutchit here. I believe he is considered quite safe.” “ A member of parliament is never safe, Sir Nigel — never safe against a combination of means. Now, in addition to the rising party — I call it the rising party, for it will rise, if you will continue to patronise it — the rising party in the corporation, ALDERMAN RALPH. 225 there is your friend, Mr. Pevensey. His interest would be immense in an election struggle” — “ But he would not support me, Threap. We never talk of politics ; because we should disagree if we were to talk of them. Mr. Pevensey is very strongly in favour of what is called 4 Beform.’ I hate it.” “ You would be so much the better member to represent the ‘ old true blue’ of Willowacre” — “ But I care nothing about Parliament. So say no more about it, Threap. What about this Dr. Dingy leaf ?” “ I can report excellent progress, Sir Nigel. I had him at dinner yesterday. And I obtained his promise, over and over again, that if he finds the old Deed, he will tell me of it first.” “ Why, how did you manage to bring him to that?” “ By finding out his weak place.” “ Why, Mr. Threap, you seem to be devilish skilful in finding- out people’s weak places. I don’t know what to think of these schemes of yours.” Sir Nigel curled his lip, and uttered himself so scornfully, turning his face also from Threap, that the lawyer felt a sudden chill, as if any one had poured cold water down his back. Before he could recover from his surprise, Sir Nigel said — “ Call to-morrow, Threap, will you? I have some business to attend to just now.” And Threap immediately quitted the room ; and betook himself to his old private corner at the Black Swan. “ How am I to understand this?” thought Threap to himself, fixing his elbows on the table, and resting his head on his hands, after he had gulped a measure of brandy to quicken his wits. “ Has something fallen out awry between this baronet and Pevensey, at their dinner yesterday? He only spoke sourly of his friend. Perhaps, that’s it. Or, is it one of his gentlemanly fits? — for he is as capricious as a kitten. And yet he is a cunning rogue — a cunning villain — a bigger villain than myself. I found him ready to go any lengths in underhand scheming. vol. i. q 226 ALDERMAN RALPH. But, I suppose, these haughty young aristocrats are soon tired of a plot, if it cannot be worked out in a hurry. And one is obliged to bear their huffs, though that is mortifying. Never mind : he shall pay for every huff, in the end. Only 1 must not let him slip. It will be the best day’s work I ever did, the writing of that letter to him, if I only keep hold of him. I’ll give up the dirty tobacco and spirit trade, when I get safely hold of him ; for it’s a hazardous business, and I should be better out of it. . “ Can there be any other cause for this change of humour in this man? I can think of none.” Nor could Threap think of any, after an hour’s cogitation upon all that had transpired since the baronet entered Willowacre. On the morrow, Threap repeated his visit to the Bed Lion ; and was increasingly mortified and puzzled to find that Sir Nigel was still less in the mood to talk, or even to look his visiter in the face. Threap noticed that there was an opened letter on the table next the baronet; and was sure Sir Nigel had been reading it, and had turned it down so as only to show the addressed side. The lawyer did not remain, for he saw he was not wanted. Yet he told the baronet that he would call again the next day. It was noon of the next day before Threap left Meadowbeck to try the effect of another visit ; and he no sooner entered Willowacre, than he overheard knots of people in the street repeating strange news. He hurried on to the Bed Lion; and Solomon Topple assured him the news was true — Sir Nigel Nickem had paid his bill, and gone away, soon after midnight, to his seat in Cornwall ; had not said that he would return ; had left a note for Mr. Pevensey ; but none for Lawyer Threap — nor any message — not a word! Lawyer Threap savagely walked back to Meadowbeck, and resolved to make out a swingeing bill for “ dawdling after this crazy young aristocrat,” as he phrased it to himself. ALDERMAN RALPH. 227 CHAPTER II. Which will grow increasingly Sweet to the Reader’s taste as he approaches the End of it; The stream of history — every one knows, who knows his right hand from his left, which was more than Michael Cassio knew when he was tipsy, as they represent it on the stage — does not resemble a canal or artificial river, that sweeps perpetually along with a uniform speed; nor can it be likened to the grander Mediterranean, which, they tell us, hath no tides. Say, rather, that it resembles an Alpine stream, which now glides clearly and brightly along, then speeds through some dark cavernous gully, anon approaches the dangerous rapids, and forthwith dashes, tumbling and foaming, headlong, helter-skelter, topsy- turvy, down the rocks — a mountain cataract. Our skiff is now at the rapids. Forefend that so frail a vessel be not wrecked when we come to the edge of the watery precipice ! What running to and fro, what wondering and guessing, what whispering and loud talking, what doubt and confidence, what hopes and fears, agitated old Willowacre, for days and days after that sudden and mysterious evanishment of Sir Higel Kickem ! Daily there were congratulatory visits at Mr. Alderman True- man’s by his friends, and nightly they repeated their congratula- tions at the Wheat Sheaf. Threap never showed himself in the borough. He was sulkily brooding at home over the unlooked- for check to his fortunes, and trying to comprehend the incom- prehensible disappearance of his client. Hugh Plombline was daily with the mayor Kicky; and they talked with closed doors, and in anxious whispers, of the cloud that had fallen on them. The printed papers, offering a reward for discovery of 228 ALDERMAN RALPH. the bridge rioters, were tom from the walls in every part of the town, and no magistrate dared either to ask who had done it, to replace the papers, or to give orders for apprehension of suspected depredators. Plombline held up his head defiantly, as he stepped through the streets ; but Nicky looked crestfallen whenever he crossed the threshold of his shop to perform any errand of business out of doors ; and that was seldom. Weeks rolled away, and the confidence of the Trueman party grew strong that the grand enemy had quitted the field for ever, convinced that his cause was hopeless, and that nothing was now wanting but the discovery of the bridge deed to induce him openly to resign his false claims. Coldness soon began to sepa- rate the two corporate conspirators. Nicky learned how confi- dent was the state of feeling among the Trueman party — cringed to Aldermen Siftall and Cleavewell, who had loaned him monies when he commenced business, and desired to make his peace with Mr. Ralph, at any sacrifice of dignity. Not so demeaned itself the loftier spirit of Hugh Plombline. He had discovered in himself elements of greatness which he had not known that he possessed — believed that he could do greater things, and resolved to follow out his destiny. No sneakish submission was seen in him. He greeted his old friends of the Wheat Sheaf parlour with a cold courtesy in the street, and passed Mr. Ralph silently, and with a haughty look. Discerning the craven inclination that was taking possession of the fear-stricken soul of Mr. Nicholas, he ceased to call at the little mayor’s, and determined on taking an independent and daring, but dangerous and secret, course. As one of the archives' committee, Plombline often visited the great scholar in the treasure-chamber of parchments, entered into conversation with him, flattered his pride, by professing admiration of his unworldly wisdom, and succeeded in persuad- ing him that he had not a more generous and devoted friend in the world than Hugh Plombline. The consideration of reward, unworldly as Dingyleaf seemed to be, had taken hold of his ALDERMAN RALPH. 229 imagination. Plombline discerned that he was calculating on an extraordinary receipt for his labour, and found that his ex- pectation had arisen from a conversation with Threap. The astute Hugh penetrated farther. He drew forth Dingyleaf’s confession of the promise given to Threap, warned the scholar against trusting the lawyer, and obtained an express transfer of Dingyleaf’s trust to himself. At the moment, Dingyleaf was sincere in thanking Plombline for warning him against trust in deceitful Threap, and in giving a promise to convey the first information of discovery, whenever it should be made, to Plombline; but he very soon began to fasten upon a scheme of his own, and to despise his promises alike to the lawyer and the master-builder. This scheme so nearly concerned his personal and complete happiness, in his own belief, that he became more than ever diligent and impa- tient in his labour of search. In accordance with his subtle, though inexperienced nature, he brooded over this new and selfish scheme in secret, and still talked to Threap and Plomb- line as if he trusted them, and meant to fulfil his promise to each. Thus, all parties were increasingly eager for the grand dis- covery: Dingyleaf, that he might fulfil his own secret resolve; Threap, that he might get the Deed into his own hands — -for he believed he should be able to persuade Dingyleaf to entrust him with it — when he purposed selling it either to the baronet or the corporation, whichever might become the higher bidder; Plombline, that he might seem to share the honour of discovery, and secure, by some crafty motion he would found upon it, a higher standing than Alderman Ralph; and Mr. Ralph and his party, that they might free the borough from the hated Nickem trammels at a stroke, and for ever. But month after month rolled away, and the Deed was not found ! How vexatious and distressing this was to the heart and brain of the deeply-injured and shamefully-neglected scholar; and what was the far-reaching scheme on which his purpose was 230 ALDERMAN RALPH. fixed, may be understood from sundry small billets which he contrived to place in May Silverton’s way, during these anxious months. These remarkable compositions were written in a stiff square character — that in which she observed him make notes on the pages of the books he read; — and they awaited May’s discovery and perusal in the strangest hiding-places — under the lid of her mahogany work-box; among the shells and china ornaments on the mantelpiece in the parlour, which she did not allow any one to dust but herself ; between the leaves of her prayer-book, in her bedroom; and even in the watch-pocket at her bed’s head ! May could never catch the scholar in the act of hiding his billets, though she watched him, now and then, more closely than he suspected; and no suspicion entered her mind that any one in the house would assist him in concealing them. One of these enamoured outpourings ran thus : — “ Hail, goddess of spring ! divinest May ! refulgent as Aphro- dite in beauty, as Here in dignity! chaste as Artemis, fragrant as Hebe ! May a mortal aspire to sue for thy favour, and not perish by thy indignant glance? Restrain the lightning of thine eyes, daughter of the Olympians, or I die — scorched, withered, consumed, by their celestial fires ! If thou answerest me with the music of thy tongue, let kindness be the measure, reciprocal love the theme!” This classic fragment lay folded in the quiver of a porcelain Cupid on the mantelpiece. Embosomed in pink velvet, under the lid of her work-box, at another time, May discovered a still more ardent appeal to her affections. Thus it was expressed : — “ Thou vouchsafest me no fond look, mistress of my heart — no word of love, empress of my soul! But all thy marmorean coldness cannot repel thy devoted one, nor quell his ardour. He is thine- — ever, ever, ever ! The talisman will be revealed ALDERMAN RALPH. 231 soon — the magic symbol that shall touch thy heart, and bow thy will to the will of thy loving one ! He will give it — he would give worlds — to possess thee — to call thee his ! Thine, with but a dying life, a living death, till the moment of bliss arrives ! — D.” The sealed notes found in the watch-pocket were yet more demonstrative of the scholar’s identity, of his passion, and of his purpose. Here is a faithful copy of one of them : — “ Sweet, dutiful one, thou dost not refuse to make thy wor- shipper happy ! I see it. I read it in thy looks angelic. Thou waitest but the word of thy revered guardian and foster-parent. I will purchase his consent. I will pay the full price into his hands. The Deed, on which his noble heart is set, shall be his. I will lay it at his feet; and he will give thyself — O, rapture ineffable ! — to my longing arms. It is coming ! it is coming ! I languish, I swoon, I die — till it comes! “ Thine devotedly, ardently, wildly, madly, hourly, daily, nightly, everlastingly, “ He of the Four Fronomina.” For some time May kept these curious discoveries secret. They afforded her many an hour of lonely mirth ; and so served to re- lieve the heart-ache with which she recalled the image of Gilbert Pevensey, and exchanged the one look with him in the parish church on Sundays. But in the third month after the baronet’s mysterious departure from Willowacre, May was again blessed with the company of one with whom she could share secrets. Alice Pevensey was suddenly announced one evening at Mr. Ralph’s; and, though her name startled the stout alderman, he could not destroy the eager happiness that beamed from the face of May as Alice entered the parlour. Mr. Ralph welcomed the young lady with gentle, but somewhat restrained, courtesy — pleaded the necessity of keeping his appointment at the 232 ALDERMAN RALPH. Wheat Sheaf — for it was on the stroke of seven o’clock — and withdrew, leaving May and Alice to spend the evening together. Alice confessed to May, that she had had much to do to enact the resolution it had cost her some weeks to form, and that she had feared a repulse from Mr. Ralph. She promised to repeat her visit the next night; was received with more kindness by May’s uncle ; and, thenceforth, he seemed to expect her visits, but uniformly departed for the Wheat Sheaf so soon as she arrived. Dingyleaf, at first, attempted to inflict his presence upon the fair companions; but, disliking the replies given by Alice to his sage remarks, and deeming her sarcastic, he ha- bitually withdrew to a small chamber near his bedroom, where May had caused a fire to be lighted in the evenings, and whither she had directed Betty to bestow his learned books. Freed from all restraints, revelations were rapidly interchanged be- tween May and Alice. The strange billets-doux of Dingy- leaf were read with delicious laughter ; and then followed a grave statement from Alice, how she had rejected a formal proposal from Sir Nigel Nickem. May listened with some surprise. “ I really did suspect, dear, that there was something,” said she to Alice ; “ but you are ambitious, you know, dear ; and — and — I do wonder that you rejected a baronet so summarily — that you said ‘ No’ at once, and did not allow him to hope for a moment.” “ I ought to have permitted him to send me volumes of love- letters, that we might have compared their elegant verbiage with the classic raptures of Dr. Dingyleaf.” “ Well, that would have been amusing.” “ What ? you naughty little May ! ” “No, no! I am wrong, dear. Of course, it would be wrong to encourage the addresses of any person merely to laugh at him — a person that you could not like: it would be cruelty. You do not think I meant you should have done soF’ ALDERMAN RALPH. 233 " I am sure you did not, dear. I do not charge you with encouraging the addresses of the grim scholar. You could not — for your heart is elsewhere.” May trembled, and hid her blushes behind Alices shoulder. “Nay, come forth, little trembler,” said Alice; "why do you not retort upon me, that I rejected the baronet, because ” " You love Edgar,” said May, emboldened. “ Not as you love my brother. But we will have no secrets, dear May. I do prefer Edgar.” “ And he loves you.” “ Not more than my brother loves sweet May.” "But my uncle, Alice — dear, dear Alice!” and May burst into tears. They were of the same age, by vulgar reckoning of years; but May was a child compared with Alice in the experience of the heart ; and the woman now essayed her strength and skill to encourage and console the girl. May began to partake her friend’s confidence, that the friendship of her uncle and Gilbert Pevensey would soon be renewed, now the baronet had with- drawn from Willowacre. She thought she ought not to meet Gilbert until her uncle was reconciled to him ; but she would accompany Alice part of the way to Lovesoup House, since Alice would go home so early that night. Bid she suspect why Alice proposed that she should do so? One dare not deny it, though May never confessed to the suspicion. It so fell out, however, that Gilbert Pevensey met them — that May bade Alice “ Good-night” at the gate of Lovesoup House, refusing to go in — and that Gilbert insisted on going back part of the way with May. Nay, it happened that they quitted the high-road, and took a path a little more circuitous, that lay beneath a row of elms; and that there, with fluttering heart, May received whispers from Gilbert which made her feel as if heaven had opened around her ; and Gilbert impressed on her beautiful lips the first rapturous token of his pure and undivided affection. My good paternal or maternal reader, do not frown or pout. 234 ALDERMAN RALPH. Young people will do so; and they are wondrously skilful in contriving these meetings; hut so were you and I. How satisfied worthy Mr. Ralph felt, the next morning at breakfast, that he had not prevented the renewal of May’s friend- ship with Alice ! His dear little darling was so much improved in health and spirits ! He vowed she looked happier and more radiant than ever! Ah, good, honest Mr. Ralph, you little think what tricks the young folks are playing you ! ALDERMAN RALPH. 235 CHAPTER, III. Passes from sweet things to matters of Business; and brings us, once more, to the Wheat Sheaf parlour. Happy, happy days, and still happier evenings, there were now for sweet May and Gilbert Pevensey; and for Alice and Edgar Tichborne. The walk under the elms, and a little wood beyond when the moon was very bright, were the meeting- places of Gilbert and May, whenever the winter weather per- mitted — and it was seldom that it did not, for a reason that need not be mentioned. They were often near Lovesoup House, but May would not go in, for Gilbert would not enter Mr. Ralph’s; and, besides, there was no spot in the world so dear to May as that elm-walk, particularly the little space under one grand old tree. Even when she walked out alone, in the day- time, May never failed to visit that spot, to stand a few moments upon it, and to call to mind a rapturous something that fii*st transpired there. Edgar and Alice were less sylvan in their attachment, and less primitive in their way of conducting a courtship. They kept house at Mr. Ralph’s, while May and Gilbert walked ; their talk was of books, or of what Alice had seen in Italy; and sometimes Edgar read poetry while Alice listened; and then they joined criticisms. Strange to say, Edgar never made any formal confession of love; nor did Alice expect or desire him to make one. It came, somehow, to be understood between them ; and to be, now and then, decorously and delicately mentioned by the name of “ respect;” but the attachment of Edgar and Alice grew deep and strong nevertheless. Ail unsuspicious, Mr. Alderman Ralph continued to spend 236 ALDERMAN RALPH. his evenings at the Wheat Sheaf, and thus to leave the way open for these love-practices ; and May was always at home, at least an hour before her uncle arrived from his old resort. He observed that little Davy Drudge came oftener to see Patty; but Mr. Kalph thought it but natural that the boy’s mother should encourage him to come oftener, now his young mistress had resumed her visits to May. Mr. Balph never saw any of the little notes which Davy brought from Alice, often enclosing a little note from another person, — and which the lad either gave secretly to May, or with still greater secresy to his mother, and charges to give them to May when none was near. The boy had an instinctive dislike to the maid Betty. He shrunk from over-coaxing, as much as from harshness. Betty could not draw from him either the secrets of Lovesoup House, or the cause of his more frequent visits to his mother, though she plied him with honied words abundantly. And yet Betty suspected what was going on, and could not believe that May stole out so often at evenings, just to afford Edgar and Alice the opportunity for confidential talk. Betty set her wits to work to find it out ; secretly dodged her young mistress; saw Gilbert give her the meeting ; and, concealed behind one of the old elms, watched the lovers pass twice or thrice, and caught some of their fond whispers pretty distinctly. Betty did not venture on espial a second time. She knew, now, whither May went at evenings ; and the discovery was satisfactory to herself, to a degree and for reasons that no other inmate of the house of Alderman Balph suspected or imagined. All human happiness hath its alloy; and there were moments in which the fond little heart of sweet May grew heavy with fear that she was not doing right, and in which she could not forbear saying so to Gilbert. He hushed her fears, again and again, with gentle kisses, and assurances of his confidence that her uncle and he would be friends again soon. Sometimes he affirmed he would try to break the ice; but though May urged him, he never ventured. He had his own pangs of condemnation, ALDERMAN RALPH. 237 though he did not reveal them to May. Was it gentlemanly, was it honourable, to be pursuing this clandestine course? — he frequently asked himself. He had no need to skulk in seeking a wife. He was possessed of fortune, and his purposes were worthy of an honest man. Why should he not avow his attach- ment, and sue for the hand of May, by a manly address to her uncle? But the image of Alderman Ralph’s impenetrable sternness rose up and quelled every shadow of resolve. He dared not do it. That would be to lose his dear May for ever. No ! he would submit to the meanness of a stolen courtship, and still hope and trust that time and some unforeseen event would fill up the gulf of impassable coldness that intervened between himself and May’s uncle. The passion of Threap, so vile in its contrast to the pure loves we have just described, must be mentioned in the same chapter, — just as life mingles good and ill, foul and fair. He had again seen Margery, and more than once. She loved young J onathan Jipps; but Jonathan never talked of wedlock except with a sigh, and to say that he feared it was far off. Margery’s father had become as harsh with her as ever. He was uneasy because Threap had not renewed the lease; had gone over several times to Meadowbeck about it; but had been told by Threap, that the baronet had not fully consented to the renewal of the lease before leaving Willowacre, and never answered the letters sent to him. So Gregory was restless in spirit, and tyrannical in temper. And poor Margery again longed to burst from her thraldom, and began to listen, with less and less distaste, to Threap’s offers to make her a lady. The lawyer’s wily and honied pleadings had the greater effect, because she had no love- letters from young Jonathan, now Jack Jigg was in prison. Our honest minstrel would, very likely, have lain there for the full six months; but sickness and the state of feeling among parties combined to release him. He had been sentenced to solitary confinement; and that, with the labour of knocking hemp and meagre support, threw him into a serious illness. 238 ALDERMAN RALPH. When half his term was elapsed, Mr. Ralph impressively entreated his brother magistrates to release the prisoner. The mayor Nicky, willing to propitiate the senior alderman, and now less intimate with Plombline, immediately consented. Plombline, no longer visited by Threap, did not oppose Jack’s release; and the other magistrates gave their votes for Mr. Ralph. Poor Jack, when set at liberty, was in a very weakly condition; and his wife’s nursing, and Mr. Ralph’s continued charity, were both necessary to his restoration to health. In the middle of the month of April, Jack Jigg came to resume his fiddle-playing, and to have a “ benefit,” projected by his old friends and admirers, at the Three Loggerheads in Willowacre, bringing with him the news that Lawyer Threap had suddenly been sent for by Sir Nigel Nickem, and was gone down to the baronet’s seat, in Cornwall. A week of speculation on the causes of Threap’s summons succeeded, in Willowacre; and then the whole borough was thrown into excitement with the news that the Blue member, Sir Clink Clutchit, was dead. Within three days, half a dozen candidates for the representation of the old borough were in the field. There was my young Lord Fitz-Fizzlegig, son of the Earl of Hempseed; and Sir Headstrong Jumpall, the great fox-hunter; and Sir Jerrigo Jockey well, so famous at Doncaster and New- market; and Squire Hangdog, the terror of poachers; and Captain Culverin, who lost an arm at Waterloo ; and Sergeant Bounce, leading barrister on the circuit. But Mr. Ralph and his friends pished and pshawed, as they read the printed addresses of every one of them. “ The people of Willowacre shall never have a suckling lord to represent them, by my consent,” said the senior alderman in the parlour of the dear old Wheat Sheaf; “ not that I wish to be understood, neighbours, as saying any thing, or meaning any thing, to the prejudice of the proper privileges of our aris- tocracy. But, in my plain understanding, such a person, when lie becomes old enough, and if he have brains enow, should ALDERMAN RALPH. 239 appeal to tlie freeholders. Let the young aristocracy who have talent go to the counties, gentlemen. They belong to the land- lords and their tenantry. They can have no communion of feeling and interest with the denizens of an ancient borough.” “ Very sensibly spoken,” said Mr. Gervase Poundsmall. “ Exactly what I think, but I could not have said it so well,” added Jerry Dimple. “ And as for the fox-hunting baronet, what interest could he feel in the trade and commerce, and general prosperity of the town?” asked Mr. Poundsmall. “ Or the racing baronet ?” said Mark Siftall. “ Ay, or the squire that fills the jail in his neighbourhood with poachers % ” added Diggory Cleavewell. “ They are all three out of the question, friends,” decided Mr. Alderman Ralph ; “ we must not disgrace ourselves by sending any one of them to represent us. Prom ancient times, so far as I learn, this borough has sent business-men to parliament. Sir Clink Clutchit had his faults. We all know that. He had an eye to place; and he obtained it, too. But he could not have done that unless he had been a business-man. He attended to the business of the country; and he attended to our business as well. Gentlemen, we must not disgrace his memory by choos- ing a bad successor to him.” “ Hear, hear, hear ! ” said the parlour company. “ I should like the captain better — Captain Culverin,” said Peter Weatherwake, “if he belonged to the nobler part of the service. Had he been a sailor instead of a soldier, I say I should have liked him better.” “Just so, neighbour Weatherwake,” said Mr. Ralph: “he might then have felt some interest in the business of the port. But I imagine these army people are just as ignorant of trade and business, as your young lords and fox-hunting and racing gentry.” “ Besides, I hear that this Captain Culverin is very poor,” observed the rich miller, with an expressive look. 240 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ And so lie might sell us for preferment/’ said the wealthy butcher; “ that settles his account, at once.” “ And really, from what knowledge I have of Sergeant Bounce,” observed Mr. Pomponius Pratewell, “ I should not feel inclined to vote for him. You see here, in his address” — for Mr. Pom- ponius had, at the call of the company, read out each of the six candidates’ addresses — “ he asserts his principles to be solidly con- stitutional. But I suspect he has no settled principles; and would vote Whig, Tory, or Radical, just as he imagined it would tend most to his interest or advancement. “ Oh ! we won’t have a lawyer at any price,” declared Alderman Ralph, “ unless it be yourself.” There was a laugh, but a good deal of cheering when this was said; and Mr. Pratewell laughed the loudest. “ Nay,” said Mr. Ralph, quickly; “ I do not know that that should be regarded merely as a joke.” And Mr. Ralph actually placed his hands in his waistcoat pockets, hemmed twice, and the whole company said “ Hear, hear ! ” expecting a telling speech from the senior alderman, and beginning to feel excited with the thought of a new candidate in the person of their town-clerk, — when Mr. Pomponius rose, and so distinctly, strongly, and decidedly, declared that he would not be returned to parliament, even if it would ensure him the woolsack in the House of Peers, or the Premiership, or the w ealth of Rothschild, or the reputation of Pitt, or the fame of Nelson, or aught that the heart of man can be supposed to covet — that Mr. Ralph took his hands out of his waistcoat-pockets, and did not make the speech. “ Well, gentlemen, something should be determined upon,” observed Mr. Gervase Poundsmall ; “ for I heard a whisper to-day that Mr. Pevensey thinks of inviting a Reform candidate to stand a contest; and you know that gentleman’s influence would be great in the borough, if he were to try it.” The whole company looked like men thunder-struck, at this announcement. Never will I believe,” declared Mr. Ralph, being the first to ALDERMAN RALPH. 241 recover himself, “ that Willowacre will disgrace itself by return- ing any man to parliament who would endeavour to unsettle the happy constitution of this favoured country. We ever have been represented by men professing constitutional principles ; and I solemnly trust we shall be, so long as England remains a free and independent nation.” “ I trust we shall be,” responded several of the company. “ There is no time to be lost, however,” hinted the town-clerk ; “ for, in the present state of parties, the Duke’s government cannot afford to lose a single vote; and the writ may be issued suddenly, and we may be taken unawares.” And now the Wheat Sheaf parlour company — that imperium in imperio in the affairs of ancient Willowacre; that choice col- lection of intelligences which had for so many years ruled the borough ; that select band into which none could find admittance, however high his rank or official station, unless by good-will of the members — saw and felt that it was incumbent upon them to make a choice for the borough forthwith. What could they do 1 They could but review the pretensions of the six candidates whom they had so lately, and so summarily, dismissed from their consideration. Mr. Pomponius again read the six addresses ; and then there was but one sentiment in the company, namely — that each of the candidates professed the same “ good old constitutional principles,” but that each was unfit for the representation of the borough. But something must be done. There was no time to be lost. The writ might be down upon them unawares. Mr. Pevensey might start a Deform candidate. They repeated these sentences over and over again ; it was more than an hour since the chimes sang “The old woman a-quaking ;” and there they sat, with the vast interests of the borough upon their shoulders, and could come to no decision ! Should they adjourn the consideration of the question till the next night 1 ? Mr. Pomponius would bow to the decision of the company — certainly he would ; but he would most urgently recommend that they should not adjourn the question. VOL. i. Ii 242 ALDERMAN RALPH. “Egad ! ” exclaimed Mr. Ralph, at last, “since we cannot decide, let us call a public meeting of the whole town by the crier's bell, to-morrow morning, and decide it there ! That will effectually put an end to all the dreams and schemes about a Reform candi- date, depend upon it ! ” There was a hearty and instant assent by the entire company. Mr. Pratewel it is true, thought the proposition of a resort to unversal suffrage somewhat strange, coming, as it did, from Mr. Ralph ; but he did not say so ; and the company broke up at nearly two of the morning, well pleased that Mr Ralph’s business- like mind had, as it was wont, led the way out of doubt and difficulty. ALDERMAN RALPH. 243 CHAPTER IV. The good People of Willowacre in Public Meeting; and an Apparition at the end of the Chapter. Surely the Destinies were no fiction of the brains of poets ! There must be such a power as Fate — otherwise, we should not so often witness the sudden overthrow, by unexpected means, of schemes devised by the most penetrative intelligence, and con- structed with the most consummate prudence and skill ; — other- wise, we should not so often see men imagining that they are about to " seize Time by the forelock/’ and finding that the slip- pery old fellow has averted his head, and presented the sharp and destructive edge of his scythe to his visiters ; — otherwise, we should not so often hear of determined and subtle besiegers of a citadel selecting just the very moment to attempt scaling the walls when the besieged are fully prepared to blow them to atoms I How triumphantly Mr. Ralph and his friends mounted the steps of the old Guildhall the next morning; and with what shouts they were received by their assembled fellow-townsmen ! The town-crier had been summoned to his chamber-window at two in the morning by Mr. Ralph, and bidden to go round with his bell so soon as the day broke, and name the public-meeting for ten o’clock. The crier had faithfully obeyed his instructions, — and something more; for he bethought him of a more secret missive he had received, and so slipped on his clothes when Mr. Ralph departed, and went to give the mayor and Plombline a hint of what was about to be done. The result of his exertions was a dense crowd in the Guildhall, and the presence there of some parties scarcely expected by Mr. Ralph and his friends. 244 ALDERMAN RALPH. Beside the mayoral seat stood the little mayor himself, Hugh Plombline, and Gilbert Pevensey. But their looks, so Mr. Balph thought, were somewhat disconsolate. He whispered to Mr. Pomponius, as they went through the crowd — “ Egad, they look glum ! They see that we have stolen a march upon them ! ” Yet there was shaking of hands between Mr. Balph and his friends, and the mayor and Plombline and Gilbert. Oh yes! shaking of hands — for that must be done at election times! Even if you hate a man, and would like to gripe his weasand, you must shake hands with him in public ; for the English pub- lic expect that as naturally from the leaders of parties opposed to each other at parliamentary elections, as they do from a couple of professed pugilists before the fight begins. Mr. Balph felt that there was more than a formal grasp of the hand from Gil- bert Pevensey, and his large heart yearned towards the young man. Gilbert hoped that what he was about to do would be a step towards a lasting union with the alderman ; and yet he had misgivings respecting it. Business was soon commenced. “ Allow me to propose you as chairman of the meeting,” said little Nicky, thrusting his chin up towards Mr. Balph’s large face, and looking very greatly desirous of friendship. And Mr. Balph believed that the little man was ashamed of the past ; and, having too good a heart to persecute him for it, answered kindly — “ Nay, nay, I know better than to deprive you of your right: you must take the chair yourself.” But Mr. Nicky — whose elbow was touched without Mr. Balph perceiving it ; for though Mr. Balph could look at little Nicky, he did not like to look at Hugh Plombline — assured the senior alderman, that, as the returning officer for the borough, he, Mr. Nicky, could not feel comfortable in presiding over any meeting preliminary to the election. “ Well, well,” said Mr. Balph, “ I do not know but that that is a very proper delicacy.” So Mr. Nicky stepped forth and pro- posed that the senior alderman should take the chair “ on that ALDERMAN RALPH. 245 occasion;” and Hugh Plombline “ begged” to second the proposi- tion; and Mr. Ralph, by general acclaim, took his place under the carved canopy. Mr. Ralph began : — “ Fellow-townsmen of Willowacre, permit me to state the object of this meeting in a few words. Your respected parlia- mentary representative is dead, and you will soon have to send some one to the House of Commons in his stead. I and my friends have invited you hither, not to dictate to you whom it shall be, but to ask you to choose. You are aware that six candidates have already issued their printed addresses. Whether each of them intends to appear in person, I cannot tell; or whether they have merely put forth their addresses as feelers, and wait for your invitation. Since none of them appears per- sonally, I think we ought to act on the latter supposition. I shall therefore ask Mr. Pratewell, if he pleases, to read over, in your hearing, the addresses, in the order they appeared; and shall then be glad to hear any gentleman’s opinion respecting the candidates. Permit me, before I sit down, to congratulate you on the fact, that every one of the candidates professes constitu- tional principles” — “ Three cheers for the old true blue!” shouted one of the crowd ; and the old Guildhall rung till it seemed to shake with the response. “ Yes, friends — constitutional principles. And with all defer- ence and respect for any gentleman holding other political views” — and here Mr. Ralph bowed very politely to Gilbert Pevensey, who only smiled in return — u I take leave to say, that no sensible man will ever think of presenting himself to the burgesses of ancient and loyal Willowacre, who does not profess constitutional principles.” Again the hall rang with the shouts. “ My friends,” said Mr. Ralph, in conclusion, “ it would not become me as your chairman, more especially at the beginning of this meeting, to say one word which should prejudice you, either in favour of, or against, any one of the six candidates. I 246 ALDERMAN RALPH. shall now simply request Mr. Pratewell to favour us by reading the addresses.” And Mr. Pratewell did read the addresses — seriatim et verba- tim , as himself observed before he sat down. And Mr. Ralph then rose and called for the opinion of “ any gentleman present.” But not a man would speak. Mr. Ralph gave not a hint re- specting his own preference. How could he, since he had none? And now both Mr. Ralph and his friends began to feel very foolish. The people of Willowacre had always looked to them for direction; and they had none to give! The fertile mind of Mr. Ralph suddenly pounced on the idea of proposing each name to the meeting, and calling for a show of hands. “ Those of you,” said he, “ who are of opinion that my Lord Fitz-Fizzlegig is a fit and proper person to represent this borough in parliament, please signify the same by holding up your right hands ! ” Hot a single hand appeared; but there was a general burst of laughter, and shouts of, “ He’s only a baby ! ” — “ He hasn’t left off sucking yet ! ” — “ Let him stay at home with his mother !” “Sir Headstrong Jumpall” was next put, in the same way; and then “ Sir Jerrigo Jockey well.” Hot a hand was held up for either; and the jeers about foxes and hounds, racing and gambling, were of an average kind as to wit. The name of “ Squire Hangdog” was the signal for a burst of execration ; and some threatened to throw him into the Slowflow if he should dare to show himself in Willowacre. And now Mr. Ralph began to regret that he had not made a choice before he came to the meeting, feared that, since only two names remained, the people might choose the worst, and said a few words in slight commendation of the next name. “ Captain Culverin,” said he, “ is a gentleman quite unknown among us; but there is something respectable about him: he has fought for his country, and, I understand, lost an arm at Waterloo.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 247 About half a dozen old pensioners held up their hands for the captain, when Mr. Ralph put his name to the vote. “ He has no money ! ” shouted several voices. “ The poor devil can’t afford to spend sixpence 1” shouted others. “ He’s of no use : he needn’t come,” said others. “ Gentlemen,” said Mr. Ralph, “ there were six hands held up for Captain Culverin. I am bound to put his name the other way. Those who are against him being received” — The whole crowd, and amongst them the six old pensioners, held up their hands before Mr. Ralph could finish the sentence. “ You needn’t put the other name !” — “ We’ll not have Lawyer Gab!” — “ We’ll not have a calf ’s-head ! ” and sundry other shouts ended the ceremony of putting the six names. What was now to be done? That was the question Mr. Ralph put, in a whisper, to Mr. Pomponius, who only shook his head. Mr. Ralph glanced round the meeting, in uncertainty what to do, when he saw Pevensey in something like a fit of stifled laughter. “ Gentlemen may amuse themselves by laughing,” broke forth the mortified Ralph ; “ but although the friends of the constitution find it difficult to make a choice, I venture to say, that no gentleman would meet acceptance in this meeting, or in this borough, who was bold enough to propose a leveller for our suffrages.” “ I really have no wish to propose a leveller,” said Gilbert, with great good-humour so soon as the applause had subsided — for applause did follow, “ as the night the day,” every speech of the popular Alderman Ralph. “ Hear, hear ! ” said several of the crowd. “ Will the chairman permit me to address a very few words to the meeting?” asked Pevensey, encouraged by this favourable sign from the crowd. “ Oh, certainly, sir!” exclaimed Mr. Ralph, with an air that 248 ALDERMAN RALPH. seemed to mean — “ Try your best or worst, sir; you’ll take nothing by it.” With some modesty, but with perfect self-possession, Gilbert advanced to a central position near the chair, and began, in a clear and pleasing voice, to address the crowd. His good looks, as well as his wealth and large business concerns in the port, together with his reputation for benevolence to the poor, served to give him favour with the great bulk of the meeting. “ Fellow-townsmen,” he said, “ I will, under favour of your deservedly respected chairman, remove at once the mistake under which he evidently labours. I am not a leveller. I may differ, politically, with some gentlemen around me. But as I have the wish, above all things, to restore and preserve harmony in the good old town of Willowacre, I shall vote for the old true blue” — The applause was electric ! The meeting gave “ three times three ” — Mr. Balph caught Gilbert’s hand, the tears sprung to his eyes, and he felt as if he could have pressed Pevensey to his broad waistcoat ! “ One cheer more!” he shouted, when the “ three times three” had died away; and Pevensey would have felt perfectly happy, had he not feared the promising beginning might lead to a disastrous end. “ I repeat,” continued Gilbert, “ that I shall vote at this ejection for the old true blue, and for a candidate pledged to constitutional principles. But you will not expect to hear me say, that I shall vote for any one of the six persons you have rejected. Let it suffice that you have rejected them. Our next step, I humbly suggest, should be to secure a candidate more suitable for Willowacre than any one of them. Gentlemen, I do not think we shall find it difficult to meet with such a candidate. I must confess, however, that I should prefer a candidate who would be able to benefit the town in other ways than that of politics. Our harbour needs great improvement — at least, if we wish to preserve the trade of the port. Our streets need better ALDERMAN RALPH. 249 paving. We ought not to be behind, as we are, in the affair of lighting. Why should not gas be introduced?” — The applause became deafening; and Mr. Ralph and his old- fashioned friends looked astonished at the speaker. Yet the meeting was so evidently with him, that they were afraid to express any difference from him. “ Above all,” continued Pevensey, summoning up all his courage, “ why should we not reckon on finding a candidate who can grapple with the Bridge difficulty, get the question determined, and so set that quarrel at rest, and end all the heart-burnings it has occasioned? What is so desirable as harmony and concord among the inhabitants of a town ? I think w e may find a candidate who would be the means of uniting us ; who would further the improvement of the town in every direction ; and who would also maintain constitutional principles, and bear the banner of — the old true blue ! ” Thunders of applause followed the clap-trap peroration of Pevensey. Mr. Ralph, and even Mr. Pratewell, envied his eloquent delivery, and gazed upon him with amazement. Hugh Plombline claimed to address the meeting before the excitement had subsided; and began before the crowd could show dislike to him. “ For the old true blue,” he began boldly, “ we are united — Mr. Chairman and gentlemen — to a man. We may have had our little differences ; but when the question is — Shall Willowacre be represented by a leveller or a loyalist? — then, I say, we are united. I am free to say, sir, that some things have occurred which I regret” — - The air with which crafty Hugh uttered these words, turned the whole crowd in his favour; and they gave him a round of applause instantly. “ I hope, however, that our misunderstandings will be for- gotten from this moment; and that, in rallying round the old true blue, we shall have all our old friendships restored, never to be again broken. I beg, sir, to thank Mr. Pevensey for his 250 ALDERMAN RALPH. eloquent speech, and to say that I perfectly coincide with his sentiments. I do think it very desirable that we should have a representative who not only can take an interest in the concerns of the borough, but has the will and the power to further im- provements. I think, also, that such a person may be found, if we look for him. Perhaps, however, Mr. Pevensey is prepared to name a candidate. I beg to ask him that question.” “ Plear, hear, hear ! ” cried scores of voices. Hugh Plombline receded in a moment; and Gilbert again came forward — feeling that, now, the die was to be cast. “ I am not only prepared to name such a candidate as I have described,” he said, “ but to produce him to this meeting” — Excitement again seized the crowd, and Gilbert was com- pelled to stop. “ Produce him ! ” thought Mr. Ralph — “ Produce him ! ” thought Mr. Pratewell — “ Produce him!” thought all the Wheat Sheaf parlour friends, as they glanced at each other, and returned each other another look, which meant, “ Then our rising suspicions were foolish.” “ I repeat that I will produce him to this meeting,” continued Gilbert, “ if the chairman expresses a wish to see and hear him, and will also give him a fair hearing.” “ Yes, yes!” — “ To be sure he shall be heard!” — “ Fair play’s a jewel!” — “Who is it?” — “Fetch him at once!” were the cries of the crowd. “ I do wish to see and hear him,” replied Mr. Ralph, “ and of course he shall have a fair hearing. T wonder Mr. Pevensey doubts that. I pledge my word that this meeting will quietly wait till Mr. Pevensey fetches him.” The plaudits which followed this pledge of the chairman, had not ceased before Plombline had opened the door of the inner chamber, which was close by the canopied chair, and — bowing very low to the chair as he entered — there stood before the multitude, Sir Nigel Nickem! ALDERMAN RALPH. 251 CHAPTER Y. The Apparition becomes an M.P. : curious Conversation of the Baronet and the Lawyer. “ Sir Nigel Nickem!” said some of tlie crowd — but they only whispered ! Mr. Ralph turned as pale as death, and sat, staring as if he thought he saw a ghost ! Sir Nigel Nickem! why, he was in Cornwall, every body knew : Threap had been sent for by him ; and it was reported that it was to make his will. But Sir Nigel was neither dying, nor in Cornwall. He was there, in Willowacre Guildhall; and he had pronounced the words, “ Mr. Chairman and gentlemen,” and indeed had uttered several sentences, before Mr. Ralph and his friends at all recovered from their consternation. What could they do? The pledge had been given that he should be fairly heard ; for tlieir rising suspicions, that Pevensey meant to propose Sir Nigel, had been so completely dissipated by Pevensey’s offer to “ produce” the candidate to that meeting, that Mr. Ralph and his friends felt no hesitation in pledging themselves. The baronet’s fine person and commanding mode of address, together with the belief in his immense wealth, and the perfect silence of Mr. Ralph and his friends, caused the multitude to listen with the most absorbed silence. “ Mr. Chairman and gentlemen,” JaeHbegan, “ my appearance before you may cause some surprise; but I assure you it gives me the highest pleasure to meet you. And as I am eagerly desirous to do every thing that you can rationally wish me to do, — since I am ready to make any sacrifice, — to go to any 252 ALDERMAN RALPH. expense, — to take any trouble, — so that your happiness may be promoted, — I trust we shall, from this hour, be firm friends. What can any man say more? I can only add, that I have held constitutional principles all my life ; and that my colour is — the old true blue!” — There was a burst of applause with the feet — and when one voice cried, “ Three cheers for the old true blue and Sir Nigel?” the cheers were given with an earnestness that appalled the senior alderman and his friends. “ By Jingo ! but he has hit the right nail on the head ! He’s as sure to be returned as my name’s Jack Jigg!” said our quick- sighted minstrel, who was among the crowd in the Guildhall^ “ Gentlemen,” resumed the baronet, “ I thank you. I knew that I could not present myself fairly and openly to the intel- ligent people of Vvdllowacre, without meeting with a happy recep- tion. Gentlemen, I solemnly assure you I have, until now, been completely misunderstood. I declare to you, that I have no wish to retain any improper hold upon property in the borough. I declare I will hold no property in it to your disadvantage. In plain language — if you send me to the House of Commons, it shall be my chief effort to obtain bills for every possible im- provement in the town and port : for new paving your streets, for lighting you with gas, for improving your harbour, and for building you a handsome new bridge, and making it toll- free!”— There was no more to be heard for the next ten minutes. The crowd was apparently lialf-mad with delight ; and as the mode of voting in old Willow acre was by “ scot and lot” payers, potwallopers, freemen, and burgesses — in fact, nearly the whole upgrown male population of the town — Sir Nigel Nickem knew well that the clamorous joy of that multitude was surely signi- ficative of his return to parliament, unless Alderman Balph and party should interpose to check the high enthusiasm of that meeting. But neither Mr. Balph nor any of his familiar friends seemed prepared to interpose, though it was evident from ALDERMAN RALPH. 253 tlieir looks that they did not partake in the joyous feeling of the crowd. When the noise had in a great degree subsided, Sir Nigel looked towards the chairman as if he expected some remark from Mr. Ralph; but Mr. Ralph uneasily averted his face, and did not speak. The baronet glanced right and left at the persons occupying the raised seats near the chair; but none spoke. He immediately resumed his harangue, repeated what he had already said with some variety of phrase, and with greater emphasis ; and then asked if any gentleman present wished to ask him any questions. Alderman Ralph now roused himself. “ I have one question, at least, to ask Sir Nigel Nickem,” he said ; “ but before I put it, I shall beg to be allowed to quit this chair” — “No, no!” shouted the crowd; but Mr. Ralph persisted, and Gilbert Pevensey observed, that he thought the meeting should allow the respected alderman to have his own way. Plombline then proposed that Pevensey should take the chair; and, amidst the plaudits of the meeting, Gilbert took his seat under the carved canopy, and requested silence for Mr. Alderman Ralph. And the silence was intense as the multitude beheld their lifelong favourite stand before them, with a face of grave and important meaning, and with his hands in the pockets of his large waistcoat. “ I ask Sir Nigel Nickem,” he began, “ whether I am to regard those words just uttered by him, — that he has been, until now, completely misunderstood, that he has no wish to retain any improper hold upon property in the borough, and that he will hold no property in it to our disadvantage, — as part of the speech of a candidate for parliamentary honours, and uttered for mere election purposes, — or as the solemn declaration of a man of honour 1 ?” The baronet was galled both by the tone and powerful look of Alderman Ralph; but he was too good a tactician to let his mortification appear. 25 4 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ I solemnly declare,” lie instantly replied, “ tliat I uttered tlie words so accurately stated by my respected friend — for I trust he will allow me, in future, to call him so — with the earnest feeling, the deep sincerity, of a man of honour.” The multitude began to applaud, but checked themselves, from eager desire to hear what Mr. Ralph would next say. “ Then I declare,” said the goodly alderman, “ that, hearing Sir Nigel’s declaration, and solemnly warning him against the consequences of falsifying it, I will not oppose his return fco Parliament as representative for Willowacre. But,” he added, holding up his hand, and staying the applause that was ready to burst forth, “ I again warn the baronet, that if these declara- tions of his be a mere trick to get himself into the House of Commons — if he should be found to be merely mocking us — his distinction of M.P. will not only be shortlived, but he will have to regret that ever he showed his face here, and cozened us out of our suffrages. I say nothing about the way in which he ought to verify his declarations. Of course, this is not the place or the occasion for entering into particulars. I have only to observe that this borough has, for ages, suffered a great wrong from the baronet’s family ; and he must speedily remove it, if he wishes to be really regarded as a man of honour.” This was so severely pronounced, that the multitude, although they felt that there would now be no opposition to Sir Nigel, only expressed their applause faintly. Plombline quickly stepped forward, observing the suppressed anger of the baronet’s look, and dreading that he might spoil his own cause by making any reply. “ I beg to propose,” said the bold Hugh, “ that this meeting hereby declares its approval of Sir Nigel Nickem, regards him as a fit and proper person to represent this borough in Parlia- ment, and pledges itself to support him, and — the old true blue.” Plombline had put the resolution in words which were sure to secure a shout ; but a seconder was wanted, and there was an awkward suspense. Gilbert was in the chair; Mr. Nicky again ALDERMAN RALPH. 255 alleged that he felt delicate at interfering because he was the returning officer for the borough ; and the looks of Mr. Ralph and his party forbade Plombline asking any of them to become the seconder. He bethought himself of Solomon Topple, whis- pered a few words in the ear of that plain personage ; and the landlord of the Red Lion, with enough of blunder to raise a laugh, seconded the resolution. Pevensey, in a neat little speech, expressed his sincere pleasure at the prospects of union which he hoped might now be predicated for the good people of Wil- lowacre; and put the baronet’s name to the show of hands. The show was general, with the exception of the hands of Mr. Ralph and his intimate friends. Yet no hand was held up as a negative; and so Gilbert, as he was entitled to do, proclaimed the decision of the meeting to be “ unanimous” in favour of Sir Nigel. The meeting broke up, after giving three cheers for their accepted candidate ; but when he tendered his hand to the senior alderman, Mr. Ralph gravely bowed instead of taking it; and the baronet reddening, turned away, and did not offer his hand to any of Mr. Ralph’s friends — who were very distinguishable by their cold demeanour, and by the way in which they closed around their leader. The writ arrived the very next day; and the nomination was appointed for Monday in the following week. In the mean- time, my young Lord Fitz-Fizzlegig and two other of the can- didates made their appearance in the borough; but withdrew, finding their prospects hopeless. Mr. Ralph and his friends were spared the pain of voting, for there was no contest. Pevensey proposed, and Plombline seconded, the name of Sir Nigel Nickem; the multitude, again assembled in the Guildhall, held up their hands ; and the little mayor Nicky declared the baronet duly returned to Parliament for the ancient borough of Willowacre. Hogsheads of ale were broached and emptied that day at the new member’s expense; his health was drunk a thousand times over, and as many cheers were given for “ the old true blue.” 256 ALDERMAN RALPH. It was near midnight of the day of election when Pevensey bade farewell to his honoured and valued friend, who was to depart for London on the morrow; and now Lawyer Threap entered the baronet’s apartment at the Led Lion. The lawyer perceived that, though Sir Nigel was complimentary, he would rather have dispensed with that midnight visit ; but Threap sat down with the dogged resolution to have his will before he let his client slip. “ Well now, Threap,” began the successful candidate, “ you know I have passed through a good deal of excitement, and need a few hours’ rest, that I may be able to get through to town to-morrow. So you can write to me, you know, about the money we were talking of yesterday. Good-night, Threap ; and believe me when I say, that I have the highest sense of your services. You have been my pilot in the storm, have saved me from shipwreck, and brought me to a safe and unexpected harbour.” The great man had risen, had advanced to the chair in which Threap sat, and held out his hand to the lawyer while concluding his compliment. But Threap looked on the floor, did not take the proffered hand — though it was the whole right hand, and not merely a few fingers of the left — that was offered this time, and surlily answered “ No, Sir Nigel! That will not do. I am not to be shuffled off in that way!” The great man was deeply mortified, turned on his heel, and went back to his chair, struggling to keep down his temper, and at the same time resolving to persist in refusing compliance. « Why, what folly this is, Threap ! ” he said, in a tone of affected reasonableness, “ to pester me at this time of night, and when I am quite worn out, with a paltry affair of a few pounds, when you can have it settled with equal ease to yourself in a few days!” “ You might have settled it yesterday, or the day before, with the utmost ease,” replied Threap, in the same surly tone ; “ and ALDERMAN RALPH. 257 since you did not choose to settle it then, I must have it settled now.” “ Must , Mr. Threap ! You are not only very peremptory, but absolutely unmannerly. I can be equally positive, sir. You must not, and you shall not, have it settled now.” The baronet, above all things, hated to see the mist come over Threap’s eyes. It seemed to him to resemble the glaze which comes over the eyes of a cat or some mean beast of prey, when all its fell nature is rising, and it is about to make the fatal spring. With such eyes Threap, without speaking, now looked at his client ; until Sir Nigel swore, and told him such insolence was unbearable. “ Why don’t you speak? D’ye hear? Why don’t you speak?” cried the tortured man of title. “ I will speak ; and it will be merely to repeat — that I must have that account settled to-night,” answered the lawyer with the same fell look. “ You shall not,” answered the other. “ If I quit this room with that answer, you will repent it.” “ Why, what will you do ? you scoundrel ! — you mean juggling rascal ! What will you do ? ” and the client shook with passion. “ What will I do?” echoed Threap, deepening his tone, and setting his teeth, while his heart boiled with hate, though he sat perfectly still; “I will expose the beggared juggler — the mean rascal — that sits in that chair ! ” Threap’s self-possession was so complete, and his look so deadly, that the great man’s heart quailed. “ I was a fool, Threap,” he said ; “ forget what I said. I ought not to have applied such terms to you.” “ There is not much difference between saying and thinking,” rejoined Threap; “ you only said what you thought.” “ I conjure you, let it be forgotten. I will even beg your pardon, Threap. I am sure I would do any thing to oblige you. But you know I cannot give you money to-night.” “ Sir Nigel, you can give me money to-night, and I again VOL. I. S 258 ALDERMAN RALPH. repeat, you must. You received a thousand pounds before quit- ting London. I know that you have not paid a single bill in Willowacre; and, since you have had no opportunity of wasting your money here, of course you have the thousand in your pocket. I must have three hundred of it.” “ I will remit it to you from London” — “No: it may be gone at the gaming-table within an hour of your reaching London.” Again the baronet cursed and swore; and again the lawyer sat silent, and magnetised him with that glazed look, till his rage subsided, and he began to plead almost pitifully. Threap saw when the moment of his greatest weakness arrived, and then pinned him to his chair unmercifully. “ Sir Nigel Nickem,” he said, “ you sent for me when you were ruined, — when the competent lawyers you are so fond of had completed, within an inch, the ruin that your gambling had begun. I snatched you from their fangs. I succeeded in stay- ing the knife from reaching your throat. Sir Clink Clutchit died; and I urged you to get into parliament, and render your- self free from arrest. I brought you here. I managed the machinery. It has succeeded. I scorn to blow my own trumpet — but not another man could have done it but myself. I have placed you in parliament. Yes, sir! I have. You swore you would gamble no more; but now, with the weakness of a child, you are going back to resume your folly. I know you are. But, sir, you shall pay me three hundred pounds this night, or I will cut short your career of folly, by exposing you. I do not wish to do it. I will cry ‘ Quits’ with you, from this night, if you choose. Only pay me my three hundred pounds, and we will part for ever — and mortal man shall never have any of your secrets from me. Or, if you wish to retain my services, I am not too proud, nor too mindful of the vile terms you have applied to me, to refuse to serve you. Only you must serve yourself, as well. Keep from the cursed gaming-table, and devote your talents to public business, and you cannot fail to rise, and to secure the ALDERMAN RALPH. 259 means of freeing your large property from its burthens. You have strength of mind, if you choose to exert it. If you yield again, you will have yourself to blame. I have done, Sir Nigel. The three hundred pounds you agreed to pay me, I now expect to receive.” And Threap did receive the three hundred pounds; and the humbled baronet condescended to thank him for his good advice, and promised to take it. Threap was requested to continue his services; and the right hand was respectfully taken. Threap hastened home to Meadowbeck; and by daylight next morning, Sir Nigel Nickem, Bart., M.P. for Willowacre, was on his way to London — seriously resolving to avoid the gaming-table, and to play the man in the House of Commons. 260 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER VI. How Threap succeeded in keeping his virtuous Resolutions: Peter Weather- wake eases his mind, by unburthening it to Jerry Dimple: a startling Discovery. How excellently well we all preach against vices to which we have no inclination, while we have not a whit the less zest for indulgence in our own vices! Thou hast no vices, dost thou say, reader? Verily, thou art a rara avis! I wish I knew the situation of thy hallowed nest — the number of the square, court, alley, or street, which thou makest glad with the sanctity of thy presence. I would journey five hundred miles to enjoy the light of thy countenance. Eor the love of mankind, and the sacred cause of their improvement by example, I conjure thee tell us, in the first page of the “ Times ” — just at the top of the second or third column, where we expect to see the most curious advertisements — tell us where thou dost make thine abode ; and some untold thousands of us will come to pay thee our devout respects ! That was a forcibly eloquent sermon of Threap’s to the baro- net. The lawyer detested every species of hazard practised at the gaming-table. He pronounced it madness. But he had his own love of hazard ; and it was a love that he could not resist. How to invest the remnant of his three hundred pounds, when he should have disbursed a moiety of it in the payment of press- ing debts? That question occupied him profoundly as he jour- neyed home, and for some days after. His stock of contraband wares had become low ; and he virtuously resolved it should not be recruited. He would quit the dangerous business while he was safe. He would have no more of it. And yet he reminded ALDERMAN RALPH. 261 himself of the profit it had brought him ; of the house and fields he had bought; and how he could not have gained them by the low, pettifogging business of the law. And there was excitement in the venturesomeness of dealing in smuggled goods, and the dark secresy pertaining to it, and these were so much suited to his habit of mind. He met his old acquaintance, the captain of the “ Good Intention ,” Rotterdam trader, one evening, at the entrance of Willowacre, and yielded to the invitation to go on board. The vessel had only been a day in the harbour, and he could not resist going into the cabin, just to “ take schnapps.” But he was cool and indifferent, to the captain’s surprise, when great bargains were offered him. ce I reckoned upon ye,” declared the captain, calling his eyes to witness profanely, after sailor’s fashion ; “ I never brought so much stuff before; for I knew you must be nearly out of all sorts by this time. You must have been dealing elsewhere. What is it all about, eh? I’m sure I always used you well.” “ Hay, I’ve done no business elsewhere,” replied Threap; “ I’m growing sick o’ the trade, I had a narrow escape that time ; and I mean to back out altogether while I am safe. Old Peter is so keen : one is sure to be caught, sooner or later.” “ Old Peter ! I did not think you were afraid of that poor helpless old mortal. Come, you’re only shamming it, lawyer. You mean to buy. I know you do.” But Threap maintained an appearance of indifference so long and so cleverly, that the captain, though an old trader, grew desperate, and offered his spirits, tobacco, and cigars, at lower and lower figures ; and Threap could no longer resist. “ In for a penny, in for a pound:” when he had once yielded, he deter- mined to clear out the whole secret lining of the “ Good Inten- tion paid the captain half the price agreed on, which was over fifty pounds, and gave his promise, with the grasped fist, to pay the remainder on safe delivery of the goods, according to old custom. Without a glimpse of discovery either on the part of Peter Weatherwake or the coast- waiter and his officers, the boat 262 ALDERMAN RALPH. landed its contraband cargo four several nights after dark; tlie captain received his money; and Threap, more actively than ever, pursued the dangerous trade. His magazine in the orchard had never been so full before, nor had he ever bought so cheap. In spite of his recent misgivings, he had never devoted himself so ardently to “ travelling for orders,” as now. Nevertheless, this enlarged traffic did not wholly absorb the active intellect of Threap. He plied Dingyleaf with good victual, and brandy and flattery, regularly on Sundays, and thought himself sure of the grand document when it should be discovered. He had close, confidential conversations with Plombline and the mayor ; but chiefly with the former, finding him to be the bolder as well as craftier spirit of the two. And he was also assiduous in his temptations of Margery, whenever he could meet with her. Threap might be said, now, to have his hands, head, and heart full of business; and was so hopeful, so sanguine of success, in every branch of it, that he assured himself he had never been so happy in his life. But an event speedily fell out that somewhat dashed his cup of pleasure; and we must relate how it came about. One Sunday evening, a few weeks after Sir Nigel Nickem’s election, Jerry Dimple was surprised by the entry of old Peter Weatherwake into the Wheat Sheaf parlour. The ancient mariner noticed J erry’s look, and apologised. “ It isn’t a proper night, neighbour Dimple,” he said ; “ I know it isn’t; but I couldn’t help coming. I’ve something on my mind; and I want to talk to ye a bit.” “ Sit you down, sit you down, and make yourself comfortable,” said Jerry; and he drew forth the cosy arm-chair in which Peter was accustomed to sit, and placed his own chair near it. Some fifteen minutes passed, after Peter had lighted his pipe, in desultory talk about the weather, and the health of themselves and friends, and on the excellence of the vicar’s discourse that morning; and Jerry, though he thirsted to learn what was the main purpose of Peter’s special visit, did not ask lest he should ALDERMAN RALPH. 263 give offence, but waited to let the old man broach the subject. At length Peter began. “ Neighbour Dimple,” said he, " may be you’ve forgot all about that business of searching for the smuggled goods at Law- yer Threap’s?” “ Indeed, I haven’t,” replied Jerry, feeling his curiosity quickened; “ it was a business I wasn’t very likely to forget.” “ Nay, I couldn’t tell, you know, exactly,” said Peter, turning his face to the fire ; “ we don’t all remember things alike, you know.” Jerry again assured Peter that he had a perfect remembrance of all that passed in the parlour that night, and especially of the beautiful speech of Mr. Palph. But Peter smoked on in silence, and Jerry Dimple feared the old man had changed his mind, and was resolving to say no more. “ That was very queer,” said the landlord, trying to start the game ; "very queer, that nothing could be found on the premises.” “ Ha ! it’s that that puzzles me!” exclaimed Peter so suddenly, that J erry felt he had touched the spring. Yet it did not open. Weatherwake smoked on, and continued to look at the fire. J erry ventured to try if he could not pique the old man into speaking out. “ I should think, neighbour Weatherwake,” said Jerry, "you really must have been mistaken that night. It must have been somebody else.” “ Mistaken ! ” exclaimed ancient Peter, turning to give a sharp look at the landlord ; “ nay, neighbour Dimple, nay ! A simple landsman, like your honest self, must not tell an old sailor that he does not know in which point the wind sits when he hears it whistle, even if it be too dark for him to see the vane. I am as sure that it was Lawyer Threap who went over the river Slow- flow with smuggled tobacco and spirits in a boat, himself con- fessing that they were to be taken to Meadowbeck with another contraband article — mark ye ! — in his gig, as I am that I sit in this dear old parlour, where I have spent so many happy hours. 264 ALDERMAN RALPH. I wish, the happy times may come again ! And I don’t despair of it. The sun will yet shine on the upright, my friend. And a man’s sin, you know, is sure to find him out in the end; and the wicked only flourish like a green hay-tree — horse, you know, old Parson Perrywig said one day, when he read the prayers not over sober.” “ Ay, and the more shame for him,” said artless Jerry Dimple ; “ and the more shame for a man like Threap, who not only knows the law, but is so keen after any poor wretch that happens to get into a scrape : the more shame, I say, for such a man as Threap to do what is unlawful.” “ That’s just my feeling, neighbour Dimple,’’ rejoined Peter; “ I’ve let many a poor man escape with a few cigars, or a little tobacco, and not appeared to notice him, merely for pity’s sake. I might be wrong — but I’m sure you’ll let it go no further” — J erry vowed that he would have his weasand slit first ! “ I might be wrong; but I think I was right. My conscience would have pricked me every time I lighted this old pipe — and a rare good one it is, for I brought it from the real meerschaum shore — if I had put any of them poor creatures to trouble, just for getting a mere trifle of cheap weed to comfort themselves with, knowing, as I do, that it is such a comfort. But you know, neighbour Dimple, for a man who ought to be an example to all around him — I say, for such a man to do such things — ay, and worse — worse ! ” Peter here shook his head awfully, and puffed away with such vehemence, while he fell to a silent devouring of the fire, that Jerry knew there was a vasty deep in the old mariner’s meaning, and became increasingly thirsty to drink thereat. Any mani- festation of an unruly curiosity, Jerry reminded himself, would not only cause Peter to keep closed the lid of his secret, but to lock it and seal it impenetrably. The only way was the old- established way of the Wheat Sheaf parlour : to wait patiently, yet with a confession in your face that you knew Peter was about to confer an important favour upon you; or to act as if you did ALDERMAN RALPH. 265 not perceive that there was any occult significance in Peter’s head- shake, and to beat about the bush, by seeming fully to under- stand what he was driving at. Jerry Dimple, having no wiser head present to guide him, now adopted the latter kind of device. “ Worse! ay, much worse!” he repeated, “ according to all account. It is worse, and a great deal worse, to ill-use the poor, as they say this Threap does. They called him a gentleman when he saved the common from the grasp of Sir Nigel Nickem; but the poor begin to say, that the parish of Meadowbeck was never cursed with such a hard overseer as this Threap.” “Bad enough!” observed Peter, but he spoke coolly; “and although worthy Mr. Balph’s words were as good as a sermon, when Threap’s conduct towards the poor was mentioned that time; yet I must confess, after all, that I should not feel sorry to see the oppressor of the poor punished.” “ The same here,” rejoined the landlord ; “ and I’m not ashamed to own it.” “Bad enough!” said Peter again; and again he shook his head, saying, “ But worse — worse!” J erry knew that there was now nothing for it but to sit still and keep his eyes wide open upon his eccentric companion, until the old sailor should himself declare plainly what there was in the wind. Jerry’s patience was put fully to the test. At last, Peter slowly laid down his pipe, shuffled his chair closer to the landlord, placed his hands on his knees, stuck his elbows out, and looking seriously and somewhat sorrowfully into Jerry Dimple’s honest face, thus began to ease his mind : — “ Neighbour Dimple, you know I am an old voyager, and very much given to keep things to myself. I have known a deal of mischief done by talking, but very little by keeping one’s tongue still. Yet, when something weighs heavily upon a man’s mind, and torments him, like — I somehow think it’s a sign that he’s not acting right to remain sly, and tell nobody about it. Now when I heard worthy Mr. Balph, that time, say them few words about Lawyer Threap’s loose morals, I was fain to have spoken out, and 266 ALDERMAN RALPH. to have told how Threap took another contraband article over with him in the boat, besides tobacco and spirits, that night that I watched him. But il didn’t. I kept it to myself, in my old way. Now, if I tell it to you, neighbour Dimple, you’ll promise to let it go no further'?” Jerry fervently repeated the vow about his weasand. Peter’s communication was then made in the form of a circumstantial narrative of all he had heard, near the arbour on the river bank; to which he appended some scattered statements he had gathered from the coast-waiter’s men, on their return from the successless search at Threap’s house. It was a decided infraction of Wheat Sheaf parlour rules, and yet Jerry could not forbear interrupting the grave narrator, now and then, with sundry pithy comments, such as, “ What a villain!” — “Hang the scoundrel!” — “The rascal deserves shooting!” — “Ought to be tied to a cart’s tail, and flogged through the street!” But when Peter seemed to have come to a conclusion with his sad story, Jerry broke forth into a torrent of honest wrath. “ He a gentleman ! the heartless, brutal rascal ! the low, smug- gling thief!” Jerry cried; “no punishment could be bad enough for him. His reign shouldn’t be long, if I could shorten it. But his wickedness will come home to him” — “No doubt it will,” said Peter impatiently ; “ but the question is, how to bring it home to him. You know it is of no use storming against him in this parlour. His thick villain’s hide will never feel what does not reach his ears. Now, let us look coolly at it. You see now, Jerry Dimple, that I could not be mistaken. The one fact proves the other. I said not a word to any living soul about having heard the poor young woman’s voice. But when you learn that the coast- waiter’s men testify to the fact, that a young woman was in Threap’s house, and he wanted to ruin her, I argue that it proves he took the tobacco and the spirits there, as well. D’ye see that 1 ?” “ I do see it,” replied Jerry quickly, for he believed Peter to be a sound logician. ALDERMAN RALPH. 267 “ And yet” continued Peter, “ the tobacco and spirits could not be found, or the young woman either. How’s that ? ” Jerry Dimple scratched his head, knitted his brows, and cudgelled his drains; but he could not divine! “Now, you know,” resumed Peter, discerning that his friend could not help him, “ tobacco and spirits may quicken the motions of a man, but they have no natural power of motion in themselves; and so I argue that the tobacco and spirits remain — or a good part of ’em — in Threap’s house, still — or somewhere on his premises. D’ye see that?” “ I do,” replied Jerry, thinking Peter’s logic excellent, and never imagining, any more than did Peter, that Threap was a large trader. “ But,” continued Peter, “ since a young woman is a particular restless subject, I argue that she got away; and as Jack Jigg was never again seen by the men after they entered the house, I argue ” — “ Dang it, that’s it !” exclaimed Jerry, slapping his thigh with a sudden thought — for he had quite lost the thread of Peter’s logic. “What? what’s it?” asked Peter Weatherwake. “ Send for Jack Jigg !” answered the landlord ; “ there isn’t an archer fellow living. I’ll warrant him, he can tell us some- thing about it.” “ But will he tell? That’s the question. What if he should laugh at us when we send for him? If he be in the lawyer’s secret, don’t ye think he’s well enough paid to keep it?” “Well enough paid, neighbour Weatherwake! what, by Lawyer Threap ? Lord love ye! why, the lawyer is believed to have been at the bottom of all that rascally affair of sending poor Jack to jail.” “ Ha ! I didn’t know that ! ” “ Depend upon it, Jack Jigg owes the lawyer no love. And I think, if you put Jack on the strict watch for appearances, he’ll be able to find out the hiding-place for smuggled goods on 268 ALDERMAN RALPH. Threap’s premises. Only let Jack have your assurance that you know Threap took ’em. I say — send for Jack Jigg. That’s my advice.” “ I’ll take it, neighbour Dimple. Good-night!” said ancient Peter; and he grasped Jerry’s hand, and was gone in a twinkling. Peter Weather wake and our minstrel were in close counsel the next day. Jack had a great respect for aged Peter, and a high opinion of his prudence too ; but he did not reveal to Peter what he had learnt in the jail. Nor did Jack feel any desire to “fish in troubled water” again, as he expressed it. The hints he caught from the smuggler in the jail rose often in his mind ; but his health had been infirm ever since his imprisonment, and that great trouble of his had rendered him cautious. It is very likely that Jack would for ever have suppressed his curiosity relative to Threap’s secret doings, had he not met Peter Weather- wake. Nor did he make any energetic promises to Peter; but simply said he would endeavour to make an observation or two — • and so they parted. Jack Jigg’s curiosity warmed as he went home. That very night he watched three hours in Threap’s orchard — saw Threap, at midnight, lift up a something that looked like an old tree- root — then raise a trapdoor, and descend into the ground: Jack stole forward — saw a light in the subterraneous region — but could not tell what the cavern contained; yet he thought he should like to know, and was setting one foot gently on what seemed to be a step, with the intent of venturing further, when Threap suddenly appeared with a light. Jack was gone in an instant. Threap knew Jack’s face; and after closing the vault, went into his house, and broke out into a sweat of fear. He had recourse to the brandy bottle, and could not be said to go to bed sober that night. ALDERMAN RALPH. 269 CHAPTER VII. May’s Lover a second time repulsed by Alderman Ralph : the new M.P. becomes a “Reformer.” Gilbert Pevensey had ventured to call on Alderman Ralph immediately after Sir Nigel Nickem’s election; but his reception was of so dubious a character, that he went away saddened, and vexed with himself for calling. Mr. Ralph measuredly expressed satisfaction that Gilbert had shown himself a man of sense by voting for the old true blue ; but bluntly observed that Gilbert had brought forward the last man that should have had the honour of representing Willowacre. Pevensey tried to soften the alderman, but found it impossible. A second time the young man overcame his irresolution, but with more difficulty, and called to see Mr. Ralph. He was received more stiffly than before; and, in a few moments, the converse took a turn that was alarming to Gilbert. “ Mr. Pevensey,” said the alderman, “ on a former occasion I expressed very candidly to you my firm resolution to decline your friendship so long as you remained the friend of Sir Nigel Nickem. A few weeks ago, Sir Nigel made signs of changing altogether the relation in which, I consider, he stands to this borough. Had he fulfilled his promises, or did I regard it as probable that he would fulfil them, I could have no objection to resume intimacy with you. But, under present circumstances, I would rather decline your visits.” Gilbert’s pride was mortified to such a degree that he would have risen at once, and haughtily quitted the alderman’s house, with a declaration never to enter it again. But he had come 270 ALDERMAN RALPH. with the express intent to bring round their conversation to May Silverton, and to propose for her: he had given a promise to May that he would do so that afternoon; and May had quitted the parlour, and gone up-stairs to give him the opportunity of saying every thing to her uncle. Sweet May, there she was waiting the issue with a beating heart ; and here sat Gilbert, his face suffused with crimson, the tears starting to his eyes, and feeling unable to move or speak ! Shame at his strange condition rendered him more confused. In his business enterprises no man had more presence of mind and courage, as well as calmness. He had never felt fear at meeting any man, never any difficulty in telling his thoughts and wishes, until his heart had permitted itself to become entangled in this net of passion for a little girl; and he thought Mr. Ralph must inwardly deride him for a fool. Mr. Ralph said no more; and how many ages of torturous helplessness Gilbert would have experienced it is impossible to say — for every moment seemed an age; but Dingyleaf entered the parlour, shook hands eagerly with the alderman, and said a few words to him, and then turned to Gilbert. Mr. Ralph bowed to Gilbert, and quitted the parlour instantly ; and after a few minutes’ talk with Dingyleaf, Pevensey shook hands with him, and then hastened home. A brief, passionately -sorrowful note — but conjuring sweet May not to be sorrowful — was despatched by the sure hands of little Davy Drudge, just in time to bring May down-stairs at her usual hour of preparing tea for her uncle, Edgar, and the famous scholar. It happened that the man of learning’s revelations were so interesting that evening, as to prevent May’s uncle from paying the slightest attention to her looks or behaviour ; and so soon as she conveniently could, she escaped from the parlour back to her room, at first to indulge grief, and then to struggle with and master it. And this struggle May had to sustain alone. Alice did not come to sit with her in the evening. Since Gilbert and May dared not walk together in the summer evenings, Edgar and Alice were then chiefly out of doors at their ALDERMAN RALPH. 271 courtship; and May was alone, though she had to employ many little devices to get out of the company of Dingy leaf. Her communication with Gilbert was now almost entirely by letter ; and there were hours when she would have gladly given all the leaves of summer for a walk under the naked elms in winter, with Gilbert. Fear of her uncle’s displeasure, joined to her own natural shyness and modesty, caused her to submit to this deprivation of her lover’s society without once thinking of braving danger by being seen to walk with Gilbert. What she would have refused from fear and shamefacedness, if he had asked, Gilbert dared not propose so long as May’s uncle remained in the adverse mood. “ If I were to be seen walking with May,” said Gilbert to himself, “ it must soon come to her uncle’s ears. And after his second refusal to be friendly, I dread to think what he might say and do, if he discovered that I was actually engaged to May, and she to me. I do not know what to do. If I were to write a proposal to her uncle, he would reject me sternly. I dare not propose until I have regained his friendship. Nor will May consent that I do propose until I have brought that about. Yet, what step to take I cannot tell. How I would scorn to ask for any man’s friendship if it were not for this dear little girl!” His extensive business concerns prevented his passion from preying perpetually upon his peace of mind; and, now, he had other stirring occupations. Fie was the active chairman of a committee, composed of aldermen and influential tradesmen, for introducing gas-works into ancient Willowacre; he was a member of another company, formed for the purpose of better paving the streets, and supplying dwelling-houses with water; and he had thrown himself most energetically into the scheme for improving the port and harbour. To all the subscription- lists for these schemes, he was authorised to place the name of his honoured and valued friend, for very handsome sums; and even to intimate that the said sums should be doubled if needful. *272 ALDERMAN RALPH. Gilbert thus kept the baronet’s name broadly and brightly before the eyes of the people of Willowacre. The schemes, too, were devised in a comprehensive spirit, and were so clearly cal- culated to be profitable, that Aldermen Siftall and Cleavewell put down their names for large sums on the subscription lists; and Mr. Pomponius Pratewell and Alderman Poundsmall inti- mated their intent to embark smaller sums when the schemes should be a little more advanced. In vain Alderman Ralph was solicited to subscribe. He waited to see Sir Nigel redeem his pledged honour. But there was no announcement of a plan for building a new bridge, and making it toll-free. Gregory Markpence collected his toll as heretofore ; and so busy were the mercantile and trading part of the borough with the other schemes of improvement, that they, at least, seemed to have forgot the obnoxious bridge-tax, or ceased to protest against it. Such was the state of things in ancient Willowacre, when the twenty-sixth of June arrived, and George the Fourth died. With the accession of his brother William, the Whigs conceived large hopes of office ; Sir Nigel Nickem had gained nothing from the stern, economical premiership of the Iron Duke; believed his regime would soon come to an end ; and determined on turning reformer. Threap received a letter to that effect, and a direction to organise measures for bringing over the people of Willowacre to the acceptance of Sir Nigel at the next election, which must soon occur, as their representative on Reform prin- ciples. This was testing the power and skill of the lawyer as they had never been tested before. But Threap did not shrink from the task. The little mayor Nicky was ready to turn his coat, or his shin, to win the baronet’s patronage; and Hugh Plombline penetrated the state of feeling among the trading classes suffi- ciently well to know that their acceptance of Pevensey’s plans of improvement had solidly prepared the way for inoculating them with Reform notions. He knew, too, that his own elevation ALDERMAN RALPH. 273 must follow if lie could succeed in leading them over from the old Tory ideas, which Alderman Ralph, he thought, could never be brought to desert, and would thus lose popularity and be deemed a laggard. Even Solomon Topple was enlisted by Threap in the new, and at first secret, band of Reformers; and the busy lawyer saw his plans prosper, and wrote to assure Sir Nigel that all was going well. To Pevensey the baronet addressed a series of letters, skil- fully composed, and producing the most favourable effect upon the mind of his correspondent. Beginning with a doubt that Tory principles were not, as they were assumed to be, the most constitutional — Sir Nigel, by degrees, professed a conviction that he had been utterly mistaken in politics; that he had been mis- led by the prejudices of education ; that the constitution was really in danger from the neglect of repairing it ; and that a great reform was necessary. Finally, Sir Nigel assured his friend that, by force of conscience, he must offer himself as a Reformer to the people of Willowacre at the next election; and said he felt certain that the friend who had before supported him from pure friendship, would now support him from principle. Pevensey’s gratification at the change in his friend’s political convictions was very great, and was glowingly expressed in his letters. He assured the baronet that the strongest dependence might be placed on his own support ; and that he would do all in his power to secure the support of others. Pevensey gave these promises with some little misgiving, when he thought of Alderman Ralph. Yet he reflected that he had gained no lasting place in the esteem of May’s uncle by espousing the old true blue; and that it was very likely Mr. Ralph would hear with indifference of his voting for his own principles. It was the man — it was Sir Nigel Nickem — that the alderman beheld with hostility. And if the man were the same, Pevensey knew that, in Mr. Ralph’s estimation, it mattered little what principles he supported. The thought did cross Gilbert’s mind, now and then, that by VOL. I. T 274 ALDERMAN RALPH. breaking his friendship with Sir Nigel, he might gain that of Alderman Ralph. But, with all his love for May, Gilbert could not harbour such a thought. He had, though with great reluc- tance, brought himself on one occasion to support political prin- ciples contrary to his own, with the hope of propitiating May’s uncle, while he served his friend. But he could not act so meanly as to sacrifice his friend, in order to gain the favour of Mr. Ralph. He had never acted dishonourably, meanly, or harshly towards any one whom he esteemed deserving, or otherwise ; and where he had the fullest confidence in a friend’s honour, as he had in the case of Sir Nigel, Gilbert could not bring his judg- ment to approve any act of meanness towards his friend. So Pevensey exerted himself energetically to secure the return of his friend at the next election, as a Reformer. Threap, secretly and craftily, and Plombline and little Nicky openly, worked eagerly for the same end; and a disposition to desert the old true blue became so evident in the borough, that Aider- man Ralph took it to heart, and began to suffer so much men- tally and bodily, that May was compelled to think about the cause of her uncle’s sufferings — and then Pevensey had reason to regret the part he had taken. ALDERMAN RALPH. 275 CHAPTER VIII. Melancholy decline of Mr. Ralph’s Health and Spirits, and May’s uneasiness: Second return of Sir Nigel Nickem as Representative for Willowacre. May Silyerton would have been dull indeed, not to have per- ceived how greatly her uncle was altered. He greeted her every morning when he descended to the breakfast room, and with his old tenderness ; but there was sadness now mingled with it. Plis cheerfulness had fled. Ho merry laugh welled up from the noble heart of Ralph Trueman now. He evinced daily less appetite for food ; he shrank in outward dimensions ; and, at length, he had the appearance of an invalid, though he had no organic dis- ease. The dear old Wheat Sheaf parlour had lost its attractions for him; Siftall and Cleave well, Pratewell and Poundsmall, had so many committees of improvement to attend, that they were seldom in the old room; the company thinned down to Mr. Ralph, ancient Peter, and the landlord ; and, at last, Mr. Ralph felt too sad and gloomy even for the enjoyment of that dimin- ished company, and remained at home. What could he hear if he went out? Reports of change and desertion, that sent him home more deeply heart-galled! All the trading interest of Willowacre had become so eagerly intent on the realisation of docks, the deepening of the bed of the Slow- fiow, and other improvements of the port, that they were afraid to lose the weighty monied assistance of Sir Nigel Nickem, and avowed their readiness, to a man, to support him as Reform can- didate. Jerry Dimple alone, of all the public-house keepers, refused to abandon the old true blue. The poor freemen, pot- wallopers, and scot-and-lot payers, at first resented the idea of deserting the old colour; but they were reminded by Threap 276 ALDERMAN RALPH. and his sub-agents, that since the baronet had not distributed among them the presents promised at the last election, he might feel himself released from his promise if they did not support him at the next; whereas, by continuing their support, they would secure from their grateful member a double token of his esteem. The argument was irresistible ; and the multitude began to cry up “ reform,” though they knew not what it meant. And so Alderman Ralph sat sorrowfully at home ; and mourned over the apostasy of his friends and the multitude. There he sat, his head reclined on his hand, silent and gloomily thoughtful, nearly the whole day. Sometimes he would ex- change a few words with Edgar Tichborne at the breakfast- table, and would seem to derive a temporary gratification from the unshaken attachment the young man manifested to the old true blue ; but May observed even this slight conversation on politics increased her uncle’s sadness for the rest of the day. In the evening, she saw that he found real relief in the conversation of Dingyleaf, eccentric as it was; and willingly subjected herself to listen to it, while pursuing her needlework, since it assuaged her uncle’s sorrow. One evening he seemed restored almost to his former vigour by Dingyleaf ’s declaration of a discovery — not of the Deed, but of half a dozen documents, dated one hundred years back, and clearly recognising the Deed. Yet, the next day he sank again; and even the scholar’s talk did not raise him that evening. May began, now, to receive the little notes brought by Davy Drudge with less eagerness; and often let them go unanswered. It was not that May had ceased to love Gilbert, or had ever thought of blaming him. It was her grateful love for her uncle, her sense of duty towards one who had watched so fondly over her orphan- hood, and whom she now beheld broken down and wretched, that absorbed her care, and led her to regard all other cares as trifling. During one week, four days passed and she had an- swered none of Gilbert’s notes. Alice was now announced as a visiter ; and May immediately expressed, by a look, her desire ALDERMAN RALPH. 277 that they should retire to her own room, and leave her uncle and Dingy leaf to conversation. Alice was about to express how much she was shocked by the change in Mr. Ralph’s appearance, when May fell on her shoulder, and burst into sobs and tears. Alice saw that the tide of May’s distress was too great to be suddenly checked; and, clasping May in her arms, waited till she saw her friend relieved, and then gently essayed to administer assurances of sisterly sympathy. “ I believe you, dear Alice,” said May ; “ and yet a sister should not have delayed so long to come and see me. It is a fortnight since you were here.” “ My dear May, I would have called sooner had I known you wished it,” replied Alice; “ but you know we agreed, to prevent unpleasantness arising, that I should not call so often — at least, until some change took place.” “ But you see a change has taken place. Hot the change we hoped for; but a sad change, instead.” “ Your poor uncle’s health and spirits seem greatly shaken, dear May ; but I hope he will soon recover them.” “ I fear it, Alice. I have watched him daily and hourly, and I fear the worst. Tell me, dear sister, why it is that his friends are deserting him. I do not understand politics ; but I cannot think my uncle is wrong in holding by the old true blue, as he has done all his life. This desertion of him is great cruelty. They are breaking his heart — they are killing him ! ” “ Do not give way again to grief, dear May. Let us sit down, and talk more calmly. I know you do not understand politics; and there are some other things you do not understand, which I must talk to you about. I may not tell you all I mean to- night; but I will call oftener, and talk things over. Tell me, now — for you and I must have no secrets — why you have so seldom answered either my notes or Gilbert’s lately ?” “ I have had no heart to do any thing, while seeing my poor uncle suffer so much, Alice.” “ You have not taken offence at my brother?” 278 ALDERMAN RALPH. u Offence I Why should 1 1 His notes have been very short ; hut lie pleaded the hurry of business engagements ; and I thought it was as well that he had something to keep him from uneasi- ness. 5 ’ "Then you do not blame Gilbert for the part he takes in politics'?” “ How can I ? Has he not a right to follow his own convic- tions? It is not he who has deserted my poor uncle. He even gave up his principles once, with the hope to reconcile my uncle ; but you see it did no good; and I cannot blame him for return- ing to his own principles.” Alice was satisfied; and yet she wondered at the purity of views held by so young and inexperienced a mind. She said no more, lest she should do harm. But, with all her prudence, Alice did not reflect that harm might arise by May’s after- thought. Edgar Tichbome walked towards Lovesoup House with Alice that night. “What a dear creature is May!” said Alice to her lover; “how devoted she is to her uncle; and yet her heart does not blame my brother!” “And why should Mr. Gilbert be blamed?” asked Edgar; “ it is perfectly right that he should return to the support of his own principles. I should have wondered that he ever consented to forego them, had I not known that he wished to secure the friendship of Mr. Alderman Balph. And, since he found the change unavailing, I do not wonder at his present course.” “ I wonder how he ever came by his political principles ! ” said Alice — for she had always been a Tory. “Well,” observed young Edgar, somewhat proudly, “I do think that our principles are the most natural to people of intel- ligence and property; but. my dear Alice, your brother has a right to think for himself. I have no prejudice for the man who does that. My only regret is, that Sir Nigel Nickem is still to receive Mr. Gilbert’s support.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 279 Alice could have expressed still stronger regret on that point ; but did not like to talk about the baronet; and so the conver- sation took a more general turn till the lovers parted. May again and again thought over that question of Alice during an almost sleepless night. “ I must not blame him for the part he takes in politics,” she said to herself ; “ he is too noble and good to do wrong wilfully. He thinks he is right, and nobody ought to attempt to turn him from what he believes to be right. But how different tilings might have been, if Gilbert could heartily have adopted my uncle’s politics! Nay — that would not have rendered us all happier, unless he had broken friendship with the baronet. I wish he had done so. But what right have I to expect that? They were old friends — friends long before Gilbert saw his fond May. I have no right to ask that he should sacrifice his friendships for me. Nor do I desire it for my own happiness. No : I am sure I do not. It is my poor uncle that I care for. And although it is not Gilbert that has deserted him, yet his friends have deserted him to join Gilbert and the baronet. Gilbert’s influence has wrought these desertions. So I hear. And yet I am sure he would grieve to wound my dear uncle. What can I do? Nothing : that I can see — only try, more and more, to minister to my uncle’s comfort. Gilbert could not change his course with honour, now he is so far embarked in it. Perhaps, when this next election is over, some further change may come about ; and the way be opened for his reconciliation to my uncle.” Thus May strove to comfort herself ; and daily she endeavoured, with the utmost devotion, to soothe and cheer her uncle. Rea- sonings would come back upon her, however; and, gradually, her little notes in answer to Gilbert’s assumed a querulous tone ; and Gilbert became so unhappy from reading them, that it required all the bustle and excitement of the election to relieve him. The election came, and, although Sir Nigel Nickem was again returned without a contest, there was warm work at the meetings 280 ALDERMAN RALPH. lie held to address his constituents, and explain his new prin- ciples to them, before the nomination-day, and on that day itself. By Threap’s advice — in which Plombline and Backstitch con- curred, although Pevensey objected — the baronet still hoisted the old true blue as his colour. This pleased the multitude; and, in part, deceived them. But Sir Nigel had to sustain a good deal of badgering from Aldermen Cleavewell and Siftall, in their rough home-spoken way; and was subjected to con- siderable sharpness from Mr. Pomponius Pratewell. What he professed at one meeting, and Pevensey approved, he had to renounce at another; because the town-clerk and his friends declared such sentiments to be revolutionary, and threatened to find a more constitutional candidate. By the time that the election was over, Gilbert was thoroughly disgusted with the whole affair, and inwardly vowed he would never again have so much to do with a parliamentary election. During the whole period of excitement Mr. Balph never quitted his own house; and when, soon after the election, the mayoralty of little Nicky expired, and the town-clerk called upon Mr. Balph to remind him that he, as senior alderman, came next to the chair by rotation, he sorrowfully requested that his name might be passed over; and Diggory Cleavewell was chosen as mayor for the ensuing year. BOOK YI. % n mjitrfr Sark Sigg is tljr rljirf Cjiinkrr, Walter, anir Slrfnr, ALDERMAN RALPH. 28 BOOK YI. CHAPTER I. Our Minstrel being about to commit himself to a questionable course, the Author takes occasion to deprecate the Reader’s judgment against poor Jack : Jack’s selection of a Comrade for his Adventure. Who, when in his boyhood, he devoured the dear old stories of the Thousand and One Nights, did not love above them all that delicious tale of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves'? And which of us did not wish that we could find a robbers’ cave stored with riches, like that which the poor wood -cutter found in the Persian forest, and learn the “ Open Sesame,” to be able to enter it and share in the plunder'? Our “ moral sense” — for, you know, reader, it is now orthodox to hold that we have one : it was only Locke’s blundering ignorance, poor fellow ! that led him to deny the “ innate ideas” — I say, our moral sense was not, as yet, so fully developed as to give us the instinctive perception, that to steal what had been stolen would be as clearly a theft as robbing an honest man of his own. Or, if our moral instinct gleamed a faint light in that direction, perhaps we turned away from it to follow some ignis fatuus in the mind — some hybrid of desire and corrupt reason — which flickered thus : — “ If I could find such a cavern of treasures, since I could not know to whom they properly belonged, and was sure that they did not belong to the thieves, I could not be doing wrong to take some of the treasure myself. I should have as good a right to it 284 ALDERMAN RALPH. as the robbers; and I could not injure the original owners, since, if I let the plunder alone, they would never have it again.” I have some faint recollection that I, and other very young and raw philosophers, used to reason and moralize after that fashion, at the conclusion of the loved Arabian story, rehearsed, as it often was, from memory, at the winter’s fireside. I do not know that our honest minstrel, Jack Jigg, had ever read the Arabian Nights; and, therefore, cannot say whether he would have reasoned more correctly than we were wont to do. But when Jack made a discovery of treasure which might, in some sort, be said to be stolen before it reached its owners by law, or before they knew that it existed, — I do not wonder that Jack’s moral instinct shed but an indistinct light on the question, whether he had not a right to appropriate some part of it to his own benefit. It is a “ case of conscience;” and I must place the facts before the intelligent and moral reader before he can accurately give a judgment on Jack’s conduct. I only entreat the reader to judge the poor fellow, if not leniently, at least fairly; and to give him the benefit of a doubt, if there be one, on the subject. Jack had ascertained the truth of his belief, that the smuggler in the jail had pointed to Threap’s orchard as the site of the secret magazine. At least, he thought so. It is true he had not been able to prove that it contained smuggled liquors and tobacco. But, combining the relation of that prisoner with the statement of old Peter, he felt as sure of it as that twice two makes four. With Jack’s activity of mind, it may seem strange that he should keep the discovery to himself for some weeks. But so he did. The reasons for his secresy, and for his selection, eventually, of one to share the secret, J ack himself declared on the afternoon of the day when Sir Nigel Nickem was returned a second time to parliament. He had been listening to the speeches in the Guildhall of Willowacre, and was now thinking them over on his way home, and moralising on the changes which had been brought about ALDERMAN RALPH. 285 since that night when he crossed the dismantled bridge to go and play his fiddle to the crowd in the street. There were the wooden apologies for a parapet, which Plombline had reared, still standing; and Jack wondered how long they would stand, and whether the baronet was not a rascal, who promised what he never meant to perform, like the lawyer he employed. Threap’s alarmed face, as it suddenly appeared in the mouth of the vault, then rose to Jack’s memory, — when, raising his eyes from the ground, and looking before him, he saw young Jonathan Jipps, clad in his blue smock-frock, and bearing the long waggon whip in his hand, as he walked by the side of his team of four horses, which were dragging a load of coals home to his father’s farm. Jack sped on, and quickly joined Jonathan, who shook hands eagerly with J ack, having so strong a regard for him. “ I’m glad I’ve alighted on you, my good lad,” said Jack, after J onathan had ended his greetings, “ and especially when we can jog on three miles together. I am going to tell you a secret. When I say it is a secret, I need not ask you to keep it; for I know that I can depend on your doing that.” Avoiding altogether his adventure in company with the coast- waiter’s men, because of its connection with Margery’s folly, which he would not have revealed to his young friend for untold gold, — Jack briefly, but clearly related what he had heard the smuggler say in the jail ; how Peter Weatherwake had assured him that Lawyer Threap dealt with the smugglers, and had requested him to watch; and how he had watched, and what he had seen. Young Jonathan Jipps was excited with the story, as may be supposed ; but he was a very prudent sort of young man, and therefore manifested his excitement more by the looks he gave Jack than the words he uttered: a mode of behaviour which served to expedite the narrative. Jack continued — “ Now, my good lad,” said he, “ you’ll wonder why I have kept what I saw in that orchard so long to myself. I’ll tell you why. I thought, if I had gone and given information to old Peter or to the coast-waiter, although I might have received the 286 ALDERMAN RALPH. government reward for informing against Threap, yet it would ruin him. You may say I need not have been very tender about that, since he was not very fearful of hurting me. But, my lad, if it be true that he spurred on little Nicky and Alderman Plombline to use me so unjustly, yet that’s over, and I’m not much the worse for it. Putting a poor man into limbo, and so on — why, it’s bad enough. But to ruin a man, and all that depend on him, perhaps for life- — that’s a serious matter, you know.” Jonathan’s good heart moved him to nod, and look a very expressive acquiescence with Jack’s generous and noble way of thinking. But — Oh, Jonathan! had you known what plots Threap had laid, and was still laying, for the destruction of your peace, and the ruin of your loved Margery, would you have rea- soned like Jack? “ Besides,” continued J ack, “ who can be sure whether Threap, with his law, and cunning and impudence, would not be too many for old Peter and the coast-waiter?” “ I’ faith!” exclaimed Jonathan, “ that’s not unlikely; for my fayther says Threap would beat the devil ! ” “ I rayther question that, Jonathan,” observed Jack; “ though your father has too good reason to fear Threap’s power of wicked- ness. I think it will be found that the devil beats Threap, in the end — but never mind that ! You and I are better out of the clutches of either of these gentlefolks. And I thought, you see, Jonathan, if the lawyer gets himself out of the scrape, what will become of my poor wife and bairns and myself, after having informed of him?” “ And a very nat’ral thought, too,” observed young Jonathan. “ Either way — it would be fishing in troubled water, you know, let it end which way it might. And you know, Jonathan, I don’t like that.” “You always say so,” remarked Jonathan, but he looked archly at his companion. Jack laughed, and thought if the young man knew certain ALDERMAN RALPH. 287 other secrets, he would have still more cause to utter those words satirically. “ Well said, Jonathan!” replied the fiddler; “1 do always say so; and yet I continue, for somebody’s sake, to fish in troubled water still. Now, Jonathan, I have not told a soul living what I saw in Threap’s orchard, before I told you — not even my wife. — Can you guess why I have told you, and mean to tell nobody else ? ” “ I wish you would show me the spot, now you have told me about it,” said Jonathan quickly. “ Give me your hand, my good lad ! ” answered J ack ; “ I told you because I meant to propose to you that we should go together — just to see what there is in that queer underground place, and what sort of a place it really is. There can be no harm in that, I think. But, if you have any objection to go, mention it at once ; and we’ll drop the affair altogether. I don’t see that we can get into any trouble by peeping — just peeping, you know — but I would rather give it up, if you don’t like to” — “ Don’t talk such stuff! I wouldn’t give it up for fifty pound. Can’t we go to-night? I shall dream about it, if we don’t.” “ There can’t be a better time than to-night, Jonathan — for it will not only be dark, since the moon is in the last quarter; but Threap will be sure to stay at Willowacre to-night. They will not break up from the election supper till morning breaks, you may depend on that.” “ ’Zounds, I begin to feel keen! What time shall we start?” — and Jonathan rubbed his hands. “ Nay, Jonathan — no hoity-toity nonsense! I took you for a steady, calm, sensible young fellow. If your eyes begin to shine like a weasel’s after a rabbit, I shall lose faith in ye : — we shall miscarry.” “ Miscarry what, Jack?” — and Jonathan laughed, and poked our minstrel in the ribs with his elbow, “Now, Jonathan, be quiet!” cried Jack; but he burst into laughter, while trying to look gravely innocent. “ Oh, J ack ! d’ye think I don’t see through ye?” said J onathan ; 288 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ split my weasand, but we’ll broach Threap’s barrels ; won’t we, Jack?” “ Broach his barrels!” Jack begun to say with affected amaze- ment — but burst again into laughter; and, when they had vented their mirth, Jack put away his pretences. “By Jingo, Jonathan,” he said, “it’s exactly what I meant all along ! I thought I would feel thy pulse — but I see thou art at fever heat, and so, without more words, I think it will be a far more sensible plan to borrow some of Threap’s smuggled liquor, if we find it, than to inform of him.” “ Spoken like thyself, Jack,” said Jonathan; “ thou art never at a loss for sense when it’s wanted.” “But you really feel your conscience clear about joining in such a job?” asked Jack ; “ nay — no more laughing, Jonathan ! I ask you in earnest.” “ Conscience ! ” echoed the young farmer, “ why, what wicked- ness can there be in tapping Threap’s barrels?” — and again he would have rioted in laughter, but the other stopped him. “Jonathan, my lad,” said Jack, “I must confess I don’t see any harm in it ; but I should not like to lead you to do wrong if I knew it. Now, a downright theft of what was clearly another man’s rightful property, I’m sure, we neither of us could be guilty of. I would chop my fingers off sooner than” — “ I’m sure you would, Jack, and so would I. But how can you make it out that smuggled goods are Threap’s rightful property?” “ I don’t attempt to make that out ; but then, you know, Jonathan, there’s the government. He’s defrauding the revenue.” “ The revenue?” asked Jonathan; “what’s that? the king — this new king, William? How can the liquor be his? I should think it was made abroad before he was king at all. And besides, living in London, how can he know any thing about the smuggling of goods on the Slowflow? The liquor never was his, as yet; and he can’t ever have dreamt about it. How can we be injuring him to borrow, as you say, of Threap? You cant ALDERMAN RALPH. 289 rob a man of wbat lie never bad, and of what be never knew that be ought to have.” “ You have not exactly put it right, Jonathan, that the name of the revenue is King William — but it may stand. You say nobody can rob a man of what he never had, and of what he never knew that he ought to have — how then can Threap, or any other smuggler, be charged with dishonesty V 1 Young Jonathan Jipps stared. “ Answer me that ! ” demanded J ack. “ I don’t know how it is, for I am no scholar, you know,” answered young Jonathan; “ but you know smuggling is against the law — and therefore it is wrong : in fact, it is as bad as thiev- ing, they say. And it can’t be wrong to prevent the thief from enjoying his booty. I should think King William would be glad to hear that we had done it. But as the king knows nothing about it, and has plenty of every thing that heart can desire, by all account — why, you know, Jack, we sha’n’tbe hurt- ing him by broaching Threap’s barrels” — and young Jonathan fell to laughing again. Jack joined the young fellow for a moment or two, being so fond of a hearty laugh, but soon checked himself. “ I really don’t know, my good lad,” he said, “ what to say to it. You don’t seem to know much about the ‘ morality of the question’ — as old Parson Perriwig so often says — though I never heard that he had much morality — and I really don’t see the way very clearly myself.” “ I only wish I saw the way clearly into this vault of Threap’s,” interrupted Jonathan; “ I would soon be into it, and empty it of as much smuggled liquor as I could carry, too.” “ Well, well,” said Jack, “ I can say no more about it. We can’t help one another to the morality of the case; and so we must go by feeling — for aught I know. I don’t feel as if I should be doing very wrong, at any rate, to borrow a little of Threap’s smuggled stuff — though, whether we shall be doing quite right, VOL. I. U 290 ALDERMAN RALPH. I can’t say — but I’m disposed to trust to feeling instead of clear reason, for once” — “ Don’t talk any longer about what I can’t understand,” said the young farmer, impatiently; 44 but say, Jack, about what time we are to meet, that I may get my horses suppered up, and be ready.” 44 Don’t you be in such a hurry, Jonathan! There are seve- ral things to be considered. In the first place, I doubt you haven’t such a thing as what they call a 4 dark lanthorn.’ Threap had one” — 44 Never fear but I can carry our stable lanthorn in such a way as to show us a light, and yet to prevent us from being seen” — 44 That will do. In the next place, we must be as still as pos- sible — especially till we find the spot, and get under ground. Then there’s another thing to be considered. What I did see I saw so very imperfectly, that I can’t exactly tell what sort of a place it is ; but I think Threap came out of a door, at the bottom of some steps. Most likely, if there be a door, it will have a fastening. Now, what if the lock be very strong? How shall we get the place opened?” 44 Trust that to me, Jack! We’ll take our large iron crow with us. I’ll warrant it we’ll get in. But now, Jack, what shall we take with us to get filled with liquor? You know we can’t carry a barrel away with us, unless we take a wheelbarrow — and that would be awkward.” 44 You don’t know ought of the smuggling trade, I find. They don’t use barrels ; but only kegs, such as either of us can carry. But there’s something more important, my lad. Where shall we hide what we get?” 44 That’s soon settled. I’ll stow away as many kegs as you like in our barn, and cover ’em over with straw.” 44 Stop, my good lad ! That won’t do. Bemember what may follow? Threap will set all his devil’s wit to work to find out who it is that has scented his secret. He will, very likely, suspect ALDERMAN RALPH. 291 me — especially if lie recognized me at the vault’s mouth when I saw him there — and so I will not have a drop or a mite of any thing about my house. Neither shall you hide any thing in the barn. It might bring your father into trouble.” “ How could it, Jack? I can’t see that.” “ There are many things we can’t foresee. The wisest way is to prevent trouble in every possible manner. Now, Jonathan, I’ve been thinking that the churchyard is the very best place.” “ The churchyard ! Lord, what a fancy ! ” “ I say, the churchyard, Jonathan. If we are doing no wrong, we need not fear to bury a keg or two of smuggled liquor among the dead folks. They will neither drink it, nor tell tales, you know; and, I should think, they’ll take no offence.” “Well, I imagine not,” said Jonathan, thoughtfully ; “but, really, Jack, I wonder that you should have thought of the churchyard.” “ Simply because dead men’s houses are less likely to be searched for smuggled liquor than the houses of the living.. And, again, you know Jonathan, should any body find the liquor among the dead, they’ll never punish the dead for it.” “ Lord, how queer you talk, Jack !” “We must give over talking, now,” observed the fiddler, “ for here’s Meadowbeck. Now, will you be ready at eleven o’clock?” “ I will,” said J onathan ; “ meet me at the end of our home close : it’s nearest to Threap’s closes.” Jack agreed; and they parted. 222 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER II. The Fiddler and the Farmer’s Son commit themselves in a double sense: the Fiddler’s repentance. Crowbar in one hand, and stable lantborn covered with a piece of old tarpaulin in the other, Jonathan Jipps joined Jack Jigg at the time and place agreed on ; and they were soon in Lawyer Threap’s orchard. After a short search, Jack found the old tree root ; it was removed, and by the light of the lanthorn a flight of stone steps was discovered. They descended, and found a pair of folding-doors, fastened by a padlock and chain without, and, as there were two keyholes, apparently by two locks within. The doorway was arched and of carved stone- work, and presented such an appearance of age that both the adventurers felt their curiosity excited. They turned round, and observed that the steps were very much worn. Jonathan went up and drew the trapdoor down, and then descended again ; and Jack and he began to examine the door. The hinges were so old on one side, that Jonathan, with his iron crow and a little effort, opened a way into the vault. To their amazement, it seemed interminable. They proceeded a considerable way into it, with the lanthorn ; but halted when the roof became very low, and the candle burned very dim. The arched stonework towards the entrance was old, but ornamental. Jack thought the place must have belonged to the old monks whom tradition pointed out as having anciently held the whole estate of Meadowbeck, and the ruined foundations of whose house were still traceable in Threap’s grounds. He whispered his thoughts to Jonathan; but neither of them felt inclined to talk much in such a place, and cast their eyes around ALDERMAN RALPH. 293 for signs of plunder ; for, as yet, they saw nothing hut an empty vault, and were beginning to fear they should be disappointed. Jack’s keen eyes, however, soon discovered a stone door on one side of the vault ; and the crowbar, applied by young J onathan, speedily effected an opening. There lay Threap’s treasure ! and the eyes of Ali Baba, when he beheld the gold, the jewels, and silks, in the robber’s cave, could not have glittered with greater delight, than the eyes of the fiddler and the young farmer when they saw that small square room piled up with kegs and boxes, and they scented the strong flavours of spirits and tobacco. “ Now, then,” whispered Jack, “ let us take a keg a piece and be off! we should not lose time you know.” “ I can carry a keg under each arm,” said J onathan, “ and I mean to do it. You take one keg, and carry the iron-crow and the lanthorn in the other hand.” Jack would have reasoned against this; but the young farmer was obstinate, and Jack was compelled to yield. They quitted the vault with their booty, replaced the trapdoor, and the old tree root, and made their way towards the churchyard. “ Confound it!” said Jack, suddenly, “ I thought we had forgot something. We shall want a spade. Let us leave the kegs under the old elder-tree in the corner of the churchyard that’s farthest from the church, and go and get a spade. Or I will stay by the kegs, Jonathan, while you run home and get one.” “ You shall do no such thing, Jack,” replied Jonathan; “ we’ll leave two of the kegs under the elder-bush; but I mean to take one of ’em to our barn, and tap it at once. What the deuce did we fetch the liquor for? You didn’t intend to bury it all, and for ever, among the dead, did ye?” “ Not I, indeed,” said Jack ; “ your plan is a good and sensible one, Jonathan. But we must not stay longer than just to taste. We must be back to the churchyard with the shovel, as quickly as possible.” When they came to the barn, and had opened the keg of 294 ALDERMAN RALPH. liquor, which, proved to he strong Hollands gin, somehow or other, Jonathan was in no humour for leaving it so quickly, neither did the fiddler feel in so great haste to move. They sipped out of an old can which J onathan looked up in a corner of the barn. “ Body o’ me, Jack!” asseverated the young farmer, “ it’s deuced good stuff!” “ In good faith, it is, lad ! ” assented the other ; “ well, here’s wishing us ‘ More friends, and less need of ’em ! ’ ” “ I always observe you’re mighty fond o’ that toast, or sentiment, or whatever they call it,” remarked Jonathan; u but, I reckon, it’s because it’s old-fashioned.” “ Why, partly so, Jonathan; but don’t you think it’s a very good sentiment ?” “ Ay, it’s well enough for that; but I don’t understand drinking of sentiments. I like better to drink healths: I’ve been more used to it.” u Well, then, take hold, and give us a health, my lad,” said Jack, handing his companion the can. “ Stop ! I shall fill it up, and give you a bumper — ‘ The girl that lives at the toll-gate’ — God bless her!” said the lover, beginning to feel enraptured with the Hollands. “ Oh, oh! you’re there, Jonathan ! — but I might have guessed it would have been Margery.” “ I’m true to her, J ack — I’m true to her,” said J onathan, his glee changing into a maudlin look ; “ but she’s been very distant- like, and queer, of late. I don’t know what to make on’t, Jack.” The fiddler felt very serious in a moment. “ D’ye see her often, now 1 ?” he asked, earnestly. “ Very seldom,” answered the lover, so sorrowfully that Jack was fain to urge the filling of another can. “ Don’t let thy heart sink, lad,” said the fiddler ; “ just unbutton a bit, and tell me quietly how she has behaved.” The swain, in very melancholy mood, did “ unbutton;” and ALDERMAN RALPH. 295 Jack grew increasingly serious with the narration and the Hollands. “ Married!” he exclaimed, when the young man paused; “ so she has begun that game again ! I don’t like her — I don’t like her, Jonathan!” “ Don’t say so, Jack!” entreated the lover; “ she’ll come round again. You know she was queer once before; but she altered a good deal for the better.” “ And how was that? ay, ay, how was that?” said Jigg, winking his right eye, and setting the can to his lips again. “ I believe it was your talking to her for her good that did it,” said simple-hearted Jonathan; “ you must talk to her again, Jack — for you know I can’t marry her yet; but the worst on it is, Jack,” — and here Jonathan fairly blubbered, — “ she says if I won’t marry her there’s somebody that will, and that to-morrow, if she likes ” — “ Oh, the sly hussy!” exclaimed Jack; “ then let her go, my lad : she’ll do thee no good.” “ I can’t, Jack. I love the ground she walks on. I should hang mysen if she married any body else.” “ I could tell thee something, lad, that would make thee sing another song,” said Jack, winking again, and again putting his lips to the can. “ You couldn’t, Jack,” asserted the other, as he took the can at Jack’s hand ; u nobody shall ever set me against her. Here’s her health again — God bless her!” “ And save her!” added the fiddler, solemnly — only he hiccuped. ' “ Save her! what d’ye mean?” asked Jonathan. “ Save her from all lying and deceit, and from pride, and the foul fingers of him that seeks her ruin !” said Jack, and he looked fierce, although by his words he seemed to be praying. “I tell ye what, Jigg,” began the young fellow, “I don’t much relish this strange way o’ talking,” and he rose up — with what intent one cannot easily say ; but felt his legs fail him so 296 ALDERMAN RALPH. oddly that he was compelled to sit down again. He looked menacingly at his companion, and felt it strange that now and then he could not see Jack; and then, very soon, he saw two Jacks hurrying away into the barn wall. In a few minutes he could hear Jack talking, but could not understand what Jack said. And, in a few minutes more, he was fast asleep. Our minstrel had been talking, in an elevated moral strain about the faithlessness of young women, and the power of tempta- tion, and was imagining himself very eloquent against all manner of vice, when he became positive, from the nostril-music of his comrade, that he had been preaching to deaf ears. The candle was flickering in the lanthorn, as it stood on the clay floor of the barn; and Jack took advantage of the last gleam of light to creep among the straw. “ I feel how it is,” were Jack’s last thoughts, before he fell asleep ; “ we’ve played the fool, though we thought ourselves so sharp. I must e’en get to sleep, and try to begin afresh to-morrow as I have often done before. There’s nothing else for it, now.” It was many a day since Jack Jigg had been overcome with liquor, and he felt greatly ashamed when he awoke the next morning, and confusedly remembered where he was, and what had caused him to remain there, instead of going home to his own bed. Young Jonathan awoke soon after Jack ; but, although he complained of a dreadful headache and tremendous thirst, yet he began to laugh at the remembrance of the last night’s adventure. “ Jonathan,” said our minstrel, very seriously, “I shall never forgive myself for leading you into this mischief and dis- grace” — “ Disgrace? nonsense, Jack!” said the other; “it’s true I never was really drunk before in my life; but we’ve done nobody no harm — we’ve kept it all to ourselves — it’s been very cheap — and I shall enjoy thinking about our spree, so long as I live ! ” “ Well, well, what we’ve done, can’t be undone,” moralised the ALDERMAN RALPH. 297 fiddler; “ but take my advice, Jonathan, and don’t take any more of this stuff to-day.” “ I shall never touch it except when you are with me, Jack. That’s my resolution ; and I shall keep it. I never hanker after liquor. I only went with you for the fun of the thing. I say, Jack, how will Threap feel when he goes down into that queer old hole, and finds some of his stuff gone ? ” and the young fellow laughed; but Jack did not laugh. “ I’m not so easy about that,” he said, folding his arms, and looking gloomy ; “ I’m not only thinking of how he will feel, but of what he will do.” “ Don’t be frightened, Jack!” said Jonathan; “111 stand by you against Threap, for I don’t like him.” “You’ve no cause to like him,” said Jack; “but I must be going. It is getting light, and I want to get home before any body begins to stir in the village. I have to be at Willowacre by ten o’clock, but shall be home in good time at night. We must go and bury the kegs when it is late enough — for you know we forgot ’em, by playing the fool. But nobody will find ’em in that corner. Good-morning, Jonathan.” And Jack shook his friend by the hand, and hastened home. 298 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER III. Jack Jigg continues to Repent: his disgust with the Toll-keeper: his inter- views with ancient Peter and Jerry Dimple: is set at nought by the maid Betty, and gets a glimpse of the-reason-why from Patty Drudge. We never are more uneasy tlian when we have taken some step which cannot he retraced; which we know we took by no other compulsion than that of our own folly; and which begins, in our apprehension, to loom forth consequences of a fearful nature. Any ordinary mortal may so commit himself; but, unless greatly lacking in common sense, he will not give up the rudder to despair, and let his bark drift helplessly on the rocks and sandbanks of his own misconduct. The sensible life- mariner will rather bethink him of trimming sail so as, if pos- sible, to avoid the apprehended danger. Our minstrel’s stomach, and perhaps his liver, gave a sombre cast to his thinkings as he walked to Willowacre, on the morning- after he and young Jonathan had borrowed and tasted Threap’s smuggled liquor. He called himself a thousand hard names for what he had done ; and professed himself unutterably astonished at his own rashness. He had acted unlike himself, he told him- self; and Jack Jigg ought to be ashamed of Jack Jigg. Pie used to have more sense: that he had. He was sure of it. Could he be growing older and sillier? Nay, nay, he must not practise the deceit of laying his fault at the door of his age : he was not in his dotage yet. He had brains enough to know right from wrong; and he could not deny it. He had a good mind to serve himself out; to undergo some kind of voluntary punishment, to make himself remember it. Punish himself! why, that was sillier still, he reflected. How to avoid punish- ALDERMAN RALPH. 299 ment : that was the question. How to parry Threap’s blow — which would come, his imagination affirmed : He would study, and find out some sly way of alarming the smuggling lawyer, so as to keep the rascal in fear; and thereby prevent the appre- hended blow. How was it to be done? He was asking that question of himself when the bridge toll-gate was opened by his old acquaintance. “ Come in a minute ! I want you,” said Gregory. Jack entered Gregory’s house; and Margery and her mother withdrew, noting the significance of Gregory’s look; and Jack noted that Margery reddened, and both mother and daughter looked troubled. “ Ji gg, that rascal is at his mischief again with my lass,” began Markpence, when he had closed the door, and they were seated. “ I suspected as much,” said Jack. “ Y ou did ? What made you suspect it ? ” asked the toll-keeper, sharply. “Nay, it’s only a mere suspicion,” replied Jack, evasively. “ Don’t try to play double with me,” said Gregory, his face darkening like night ; “ any man that conceals his knowledge of that villain’s roguery, is little better than a rogue himself.” “ I can make allowance for your feelings as a father,” re- marked the fiddler calmly, “ and so shall not take offence at your insinuation. I have so little love for Threap, that I would not help him in his roguery. You may be sure of that. I tell you it’s only a suspicion. The honest lad that follows your daughter — you know who T mean — intimates that she has been cool with him of late.” “ Cool with him ! doesn’t he meet her three or four times a week, and are they not hours together?” Jack was silent, partly with chagrin at the falseness he saw cause for again attributing to Margery, and partly with dislike of Gregory’s savage look. “ Speak out, Jigg! and tell me what you know,” demanded Markpence, trembling with pent-up rage. 300 ALDEEMAN EALPH. “ Will you do any good by giving way to passion 1 ?” reasoned the fiddler; “ it’s of no use storming at me. I never helped to lead your daughter wrong ; but I think you may recollect that I have tried to set her right.” “ I know it, Jack, I know it,” returned Gregory, less violently ; “ but don’t conceal any thing from me. You seem to know that she doesn’t spend much time with young farmer Jipps.” “I thought,” remarked Jack, “that you made a resolution not to let her go out often.” “ So I did. But she seemed to pine away, and was always ailing; and her mother urged me to let her have more liberty.” “ You have a right to take your own way; but, if she were my daughter, I should have kept her out of temptation, after what happened before.” “ I don’t know what to do for the best,” proceeded the toll- keeper, lowering his face with a mean, doubtful expression, which seemed abhorrent to the listener ; “ it appears, from what her mother says, that this young farmer is very cool about marrying. If I thought the lawyer meant honestly” — “ Honestly, Markpence ! ” broke out the fiddler, “ in the name of goodness what are you thinking of?” “ Curse it ! I don’t know what to think, or what to do,” answered the toll-keeper with a distracted look ; “ I’ve got no renewal of my lease yet. Threap puts me off with fair promises, time after time, and says Sir Higel is too busy with parliament and these elections, to attend to me. He comes here, and he has the impudence to ask after the lass’s health, and to say he has a great respect for her. And, if I be turned out o’ the toll-house, what am I to do?” “Ho what you like, for aught I care ! Good-morning to you, Mr. Markpence!” said Jack, starting up, and quitting the house in disgust. “Jack! Jack! Isay, Jigg!” shouted Gregory, trying to recall the fiddler. But he shouted in vain ; and finding that J ack would not return, he sat down and writhed with the inward conflict of ALDERMAN RALPH. iOl remorse, shame, natural regard for his child, and the baser regard for money, which was his strongest passion. Our minstrel, indignant at what he held to be unmeasurable baseness in the toll-keeper, strode up the street of Willowacre at a rate somewhat unusual with him ; and, his mind being too busy to take any warning given by his eyesight, ran bump against old Peter Weatherwake. “ Avast heaving, brother!” cried Peter; “ what’s in the wind this morning, that you run down upon a poor old lubber in that way?” “ I cry your pardon, master Peter! I do, indeed,” said Jack; “ but my head was so busy that I had forgotten to see my way straight.” “ Yery neatly said, Jack,” observed ancient Peter, with a smile; “ that’s like a good many other folks. Here comes the chairing ; and there’s a many in that crowd whose pates are too busy to permit them to see their way straight. The great man in the chair is one; and his right hand man, that most respectable Threap, is another. But come into the Wheat Sheaf, Jack, and let us get to the upper window, and stare at the show with other fools; and then let me have a few words with you, Jack.” They looked at the show, and Jerry Dimple joined them. The baronet was borne aloft in a gaudy blue silk-covered chair, according to old electioneering custom; flags and banners were in plenty; the cheering was loud and frequent; and Sir Nigel made speeches of pretty emptiness, at the long-accustomed places in the borough on “ chairing-day.” A band led the procession, playing, “ See the conquering hero comes!” Threap and Solo- mon Topple, and some dozen tradesmen on horseback, came next ; the honourable member in the chair followed ; and after him came a numerous band of equestrians, with blue rosettes on the breast, the foremost being Pevensey, Plombline, and little Nicky, Siftall and Cleavewell, Pratewell and Poundsmall. “ The Lord above only knows what we may live to see next ! ” observed Jerry Dimple, with a sad voice and look, when the 302 ALDERMAN RALPH. crowd had gone by; “I never expected to live to see such a mixture of men as that.” “ Hah!” said Peter, “ one can only call it a queer medley, like squab pie: a dish that never agreed with my digestion. But, you know, neighbour Dimple, some folks have stomachs like hogs, and can digest any thing. What beats me most is to see a man of Mr. Pratewell’s sense and manners — a thorough gentleman, as I always took him to be — mixing himself up with such double- faced fellows as Threap and Sol. Topple.” “ And you might have said Plombline and Backstitch,” added J erry Dimple ; “ for they are as deep in the mud as Threap is in the mire.” “ I can’t think they’ll hang together long,” said Peter ; “ some- thing will fall out awry soon, I venture to foretell. The men were never born to work together, neighbour Dimple. They can’t do it for long, I tell you. It is simply impossible.” “ You do my heart good to hear you say so,” said Jerry; “it will give me more joy to hear of their separating than any thing in the world could — unless it was to hear that worthy Mr. Balph was himself again.” “ Ask pardon for interrupting the conversation, gentlemen,” said Jack Jigg; "but is Mr. Balph seriously unwell?” “ So unwell, Jack,” answered Weatherwake, “ that I, who have known him so long, begin to fear the worst for him. In plain language, Jack, I look upon him to be a heart-broken man.” Jack’s grateful heart was deeply distressed at these words. He had heard that his benefactor was unwell, and had lately withdrawn from public life out of dislike to the baronet; but Jack knew not before that there were any dangerous symptoms in Alderman Balph’s illness. “ I am very sorry to hear what you say, master Peter,” said Jack; “ for Alderman Balph is the best friend I ever had. My wife and children might have starved while I was in prison, had it not been for his kindness. A friend in need is a friend indeed, you know.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 303 “ You are not the only man who has cause to bless the name of Alderman Ralph,” observed honest Jerry Dimple; “the poor of Willowacre will soon be sensible of their loss, if he leaves us for a better world. And, if he doesn’t go there, I don’t know who will.” “ He’s sure to go there,” neighbour Dimple, affirmed the old harbour-master, fervently. “ I believe it, with all my heart,” said Jerry. “ I only pray that he may regain his mind, if he is to leave us,” said Peter, tenderly. “ His mind ! ” exclaimed the fiddler, “ you don’t mean to say that he is not himself!” “ Queer !” answered Peter, in a low voice, and touched his head and shook it, expressively. “Lord bless us!” ejaculated our minstrel, feeling deeply shocked ; “ we are neither our own keepers, nor our own carvers ! ” “That’s a true saying, Jack,” rejoined aged Peter; “no man ever walked more uprightly than noble Mr. Ralph, and, being so upright himself, he gave all his professed friends credit for being the same. He was too confiding — that’s the truth on’t : just like the man in the scripter, who, doubtless without any suspicion of the company there, went down to Jericho and fell among thieves — and you know how they used him.” “ In good faith,” declared Jerry Dimple, “I thought that was much like poor Mr. Ralph’s case, when the good vicar read the chapter, last Sunday.” “ So did I,” returned Peter, “ and that was how I came to mention it now, being on my mind. But now, Jack, let us to the point. You guess why I asked you to come in here. What luck, my boy? Have ye found aught out? Don’t be shy of speaking before Jerry Dimple: he knows all about it.” “ I have not had much opportunity for making observation,” replied Jack; “ give me a little more time !” “ To be sure, Jack, to be sure,” said Peter; “I don’t wish to, hurry you — only don’t lose sight of the rascal.” 304 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ That I shall not, you may depend upon it!” answered Jack, speaking feelingly. “ Take any thing, Jack 1 ?” asked hospitable Jerry Dimple. “ Not a drop of any thing, thank ye,” replied the fiddler, feeling a shudder at the very thought of strong drink ; “ I wish you good- morning, gentlemen.” Peter and Jerry returned the wish very heartily; and Jack departed from the Wheat Sheaf, thinking he must hasten about the errand he had prescribed for himself, or what, with one inter- ruption or another, his whole day would be consumed. Pursuing his private intent, he made his way to Alderman Palph’s kitchen- door, and knocked. Patty Drudge opened to him. She was not the person he meant to see; but Jack was as well pleased that she had presented herself, rather than Betty. “ Lack-a-day, my good life !” exclaimed Patty, “ if it isn’t Jack Jigg ! Deary me, Jack, what a while it is since I saw ye ! Betty ! I say, Betty ! Here’s J ack, the fiddler ! Do come in, J ack, and tell us how they all go on at Meadowbeck.” “ How are ye, Patty ? ” asked J ack, pleasantly ; “ why, you look as charming as a young woman, 1 declare ! ” “Lawsy me, what nonsense, Jack! But it’s just like ye. Betty, I say, Betty!” “ Bless me, I’m here ! ” said the maid, coming into the kitchen with a pettishly proud air, that surprised Jack; “O it’s you, Jack, is it?” she said, but so coolly that he only stared. The room-bell rang, and Betty was turning away to answer it, when Jack said, — “ Can I have a word with you, Betty?” “ I’ll attend to Miss May,” said Patty, and off she went. “ Is it any thing particular you want, J ack ? ” asked Betty, but with an appearance of greater friendliness than when Patty was present. “ Why, yes, it is,” replied J ack; “ but maybe you won’t care to hear it.” “ You’d better be quick, and say it then. Patty Drudge will be back directly.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 305 " May be you care nothing about a person that you used to think of, Betty?” observed Jack, with a look that conveyed more meaning to the maid then his words. “ Folks are not likely to care much about folks that don’t care anything about them /” answered Betty, curling her lip and toss- ing her head. “ Well, well,” answered our minstrel, quite mortified, “ I’ve seen the time when some folks were not so huffish. But, never mind.” “ So say I,” retorted Betty more proudly ; “ Betty Brown would belike have done him as much credit for a wife as Margery Markpence. But, since he didn’t think so, so don’t I care for him. I may get somebody as creditable as a farmer’s son, may be. Your sarvant, Jack!” and she dropped Jack a mock curtsy, and tossed out of the kitchen as Patty re-entered it. Jack was fitting his mouth to whistle with amazement; but, remembering where he was, suspended that unmannerly demon- stration. He winked to Patty, who had observed the maid’s lofty way of going out of the kitchen ; and Patty winked in return. “ Sit down a minute, Jack,” whispered Patty, and then stole out of the kitchen on tip-toe. Coming back, she softly closed the kitchen-door, and then again whispered to Jack, and whispered, and whispered on, enough to make a volume. And these were the heads of her whispering : — “ Betty was getting so proud, there was scarcely any such thing as speaking to her without having your head bitten off. But Betty’s pride would have a fall. She was climbing too high. Betty thought that folks couldn’t see what she was aiming at; but Betty was mistaken. Every body wasn’t blind, if Betty thought they were. But Betty might go on, since she was too proud to be warned. It would come home to her. A pretty thing, indeed! that a gentleman, old enough to be her father, could not be in Mr. Ralph’s house without Betty setting her cap at him ! And poor Mr. Ralph was so ill, he could not look after her. And Miss May — the dear angel! — was always grieving about her uncle, and had no thought of the maggots that werei VOL. i. x 306 ALDERMAN RALPH. getting into Betty’s head. And — she’s coming!” broke off Patty, rattled among the dishes on the dresser, and continued aloud. “ And so old Will Thompson gets no better of his rheumatiz, J ack ! W ell, poor creature ! He’s been a great sufferer. You’ll give my respects to him, however, Jack ; and say I wish him better.” “ I will, Patty,” promised J ack, looking innocently, though Betty darted a suspicious look at Patty first, and then at him ; “ and, as I want to be home in good time, I must be going,” and, bidding the two women “ Good-day,” Jack bent his steps again towards the bridge. ALDERMAN RALPH. 307 CHAPTER IV. Our Minstrel’s mortification : his Reconciliation with the Toll-keeper, and resolve to get manfully through the Business that begins to thicken upon him. Must it not be mortifying to a diplomatist to find himself out., schemed or anticipated in some great plot for changing national relations? Must it not he gravel in his teeth, ashes in his bread, cinders in his soup, to find that he was calculating on raising a building where there was nothing but quicksand for a foundation ; and that the scheme on which he had spent so much cunning, was as impracticable as obtaining a conversation with the man in the moon? Talleyrand, or Metternich, or Nesselrode, or Hardenberg, or Palmerston, must have felt unspeakably mortified in such a case; and so did Jack Jigg under his repulse by Betty Brown. And what wonder ; Jack, for long years, had been at the very height of human reputation in the world of Willowacre, and Meadowbeck and Oatacre, as a grand artificer, ambassador, and accomplisher of what the sentimental people across the Channel call “ affairs of the heart.” He was actual prime-minister in the # cabinet of Emperor Cupid : manager-general of love-matches and courtships. That was his reputation, dearly-earned and hardly- won ; and to an “ old hand,” as he called himself, in such business, it was humbling beyond measure to find himself baffled in a shrewdly-laid scheme, and put out of his calculation as far as the East is from the West — and all by a mere kitchen-girl! “ Drat it !” was the classic soliloquy of Jack, as he went poring on the foot-pavement of old Willowacre. “ I think I must be getting into my second childhood. My head feels like a spinning peg-top. It’s all on a din — what with that young jade’s impu- 308 ALDERMAN RALPH. dence and the old woman’s prate ! Wliat did th’ old woman say? — setting her cap at some gentleman in Mr. Ralph’s house old enough to be her father ! Who the deuce does she mean, I wonder? I must find that out” — “ Come in ! ” growled Gregory Markpence, fastening his gripe on J ack’s arm, ere the fiddler was aware that he had come up to the toll-gate ; and Gregory fairly dragged him into the house, and then fastened the door. “ I’ll not stand it, Jigg,” said the toll-keeper, “ to be treated with contempt because I’m in trouble. So now ye know.” “ And what do I know?” retorted the fiddler ; “ did you not insinuate that you thought of driving a base bargain for your own child’s peace, and sacrificing her to a man that you know to be a villain, and I know to be a ; but what’s the use of reasoning with ye?” concluded Jack, checking his tongue. “If he wishes to make it up to her, by marrying her honourably.” “ Marrying her honourably ! why, you must be a nat’ral fool, Markpence,” shouted Jack, while he looked wild with anger. “ Threap will as soon marry your daughter honourably, as I shall fly over the sea. D’ye think, when he tells you he respects her, that that is what he means?” “ What ! ” exclaimed Gregory, with such a look of horror and deadly vengeance as appalled the fiddler, “ d’ye think that he was really proposing to open a bargain with me to make my child his . No, Jigg, you can’t think that!” and he ground his^ teeth, and swore an oath of terrific vengeance against the lawyer. “Markpence,” said Jack, “let us sit down” — for they had stood hitherto — “ and talk quietly. This is not a subject for trifling.” They sat down; and our minstrel, calming his own temper, succeeded in allaying the storm that raged within the breast of Gregory. Their conversation then became more regular and consecutive. “Is not this putting off the renewal of your lease a mere ALDERMAH RALPH. 309 pretence, think ye 1 ?” asked Jack; “ d’ye really think the baronet knows any thing of it?” “ I must confess I’ve had some thoughts of it’s being all a falsehood of Threap’s,” answered Gregory. “ J ust so : a mere put-off, with the intent to get you to comply with his will. Nay, who knows but that the baronet has actually ordered the lease to be made out — or that it is really made out — and Threap is keeping it back for his own base designs? I can’t think, Mr. Markpence, that a man of business — as Sir Nigel evidently is — would let his property hang loose, just as if it neither belonged to him nor any body else.” “ I’ faith, that’s a shrewd thought, Jigg,” rejoined Gregory; “ I’ll uphold ye, you’re right.” “ Then the next thing for you to do, is to get an interview with Sir Nigel. I would do it at once. There is no time to be lost. I would make bold, if I were you, to go to the Ned Lion, and ask to see him to-night — for he may leave the town to- morrow morning.” “ Threap says Sir Nigel is to stay in the town for a fort- night.” “ Don’t trust to what he says. Go to-night, I tell you.” “ Not to night, Jack. I could not see him. There is to be a grand ball at the Guildhall. The baronet is to be there, and Mr. Pevensey, and all the fine folks. I know it’s true. Threap told me he meant to be there himself ; and his man came to Willowacre, and returned this afternoon, telling me, as he passed the gate, that the lawyer would not return to Meadowbeck till to-morrow.” “So, so,” said Jack, thoughtfully; “well, that’s all likely enough. But go to-morrow.” “Confound it, Jigg!” said the toll-keeper, hanging down his head, “ I do not think I can manage it. I’m only a bear, you, know. I don’t know how to speak to gentlefolks. If I only show my hang-dog face in an inn-parlour, they make the-devil-to- pay-and-nobody-to-take-the-reckoning about it. Think what a 310 ALDERMAN RALPH. hallibaloo they raised, just because I was rash enough to go into the Wheat Sheaf that time ! ” “Egad!” said Jack, laughing, “you will be reckoned some- body in after-ages, Markpence ; for you begun the revolution in Willowacre. Why, man, you’ve been the cause of more changes in the old borough than any man for fifty generations before you! I say, Gregory, just tell me now, between ourselves — and I’ll let it go no further, as old Peter Weatherwake says — what was the reason of your going into the Wheat Sheaf parlour? You know it’s been a matter of wonder, ever since.” “ I wish you could tell me the reason, Jack,” answered Gre- gory; “for nobody wonders that I went, there, so much as I wonder at it myself” — and Gregory laughed ; but Jack looked grave. “You don’t say that!” said the fiddler; “well, my stars! but that’s odd. You had no particular motive, and yet all these changes have come out of it ! I must think that over, another time. But, now, with regard to what we were talking about. Have you no friend among the gentlefolks in Willowacre who would speak to Sir Nigel in your behalf ? ” « Friend ! be hanged ! ” replied Gregory, sourly ; “ you know I never had any friends in the town, and never wanted any. I don’t believe there’s a man in Willowacre would be at the trouble to wag his little finger, if he could help me by so doing. I hate all the Willowacre folks. I always did. I don’t believe there’s a man living in it that’s possessed of a spoonful of the milk of human-kindness, as my father used to call it.” “ I hope your father possessed more of that liquid in his com- position than you do, Gregory — though I don’t mean to complain of your conduct to me. I believe there are many bad people in Willowacre — as there are every where, the Lord knows ! — but there are some good ones. I have reason to say so, at any rate.” “ Why, yes, I dare say you have. Is that really true, J ack, that Alderman Ralph sent money to your family all the time they kept you in jail in that rascally way?” ALDERMAN RALPH. 311 “Yes, it is; and a nobler gentleman does not breathe, either in Willowacre or out of it. But who told you about that, Mr. Markpence ? ” “ A man that scarcely speaks to any body else, so far as I can learn. And I suppose he talks to me because I’m a queer sort of a being, and feels that we belong to the same ungainly family, although we are not much alike, for all that.” “ Who do ye mean 1 ?” asked Jack Jigg. “ Oh ! only the great scholar of your place — this famous Doctor Dingyleaf, that spends every week, from Monday morning to Saturday afternoon, in brooding over some strange egg at the Guildhall, that he can’t hatch, as yet, it seems. Something that is to prove this bridge doesn’t belong to Sir Nigel ! I thought it odd, when he first began to talk to me. But he seemed bent upon it, and so I yielded; and now we always have a little talk when he goes home on Saturdays and comes back on Mondays.” “ But how did he know what Mr. Ralph was so kind as to do for me and my family?” “ Oh ! he lives at Alderman Ralph’s, you know.” “ Lives there ! ” exclaimed J ack, opening his eyes wide. “ Ay, man : lives there. What the hangment are ye staring at ? The alderman is very eager about finding out that the bridge does not belong to Sir Nigel; and so he takes great notice of the doctor, and desires the doctor to make a home of his house.” tc Indeed ! ” cried J ack, looking amazed. “ Indeed! why, d’ye think I’m lying? The doctor told me all about it himself.” “ Oh, ay — to be sure!” remarked Jack, putting away some par- ticular thoughts for the nonce, and fastening his wits on another point. “ I say, Markpence, why should you not ask Dr. Dingy- leaf to speak to the baronet in your behalf?” “ Ask Dr. Dingyleaf! Lord ! that would be queer, you know. How the deuce could he ask the baronet to renew my lease, when he is engaged to find out that the bridge and the toll-gate do not belong to the baronet?” 312 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ Hum ! ” articulated J ack, feeling confused, “ it would be rayther queer. I’ll think things over, and call and see you again to-morrow.” “ Do, Jack,” entreated Gregory; “ I shall feel miserable if you take against me. I know I’m but a queer beast; but I respect you, Jack: I do, indeed.” u Good-bye, Gregory,” said J ack, kindly. “ Good-bye, Jack,” said Gregory; and they shook hands at parting now, though they had never shaken hands before. Jack was, for some time, disposed to the melting mood: so greatly had the change in Gregory Markpence affected him. Soon he began to call up other thoughts, which he had considered adjourned till a freer opportunity for pondering on them. “ Betty Brown set her cap at Dr. Dingyleaf!” was his peri- patetic soliloquy; “that must be the meaning of the riddle. What, in the name of the sun, moon, and seven stars, will the world come to? And there’s something probable in it, too. Betty is not a mere gaby. She was always a pawky sort of a wench. I always considered that she had more sense than Margery Markpence — though she is not so feat — and I wished Jonathan to have her, on account of her brains. She must have got hold of this Dr. Dingyleaf ’s fancy. Well: this is all very strange; and, what with one thing or other, my brains are all in a whirl. There is this matter of the lease, too. I must help Markpence out with his difficulty. Come, come, I must find a way to do it ! Surely I’m not grown an absolute idiot. I must set my wits to work, for business seems to thicken : Threap, and his cellar; Markpence, and his lease; Margery and Jonathan; Dr. Dingyleaf and Betty Brown; old Peter to close the list : I must chew the cud upon all their cases.” — Thus pondering, Jack reached his home. END OF VOL. I. M'CORQUODALE AND CO., PRINTERS, LONDON — WORKS, NEWTON. ALDERMAN RALPH. ALDERMAN RALPH; THE HISTORY OF THE BOROUGH AND COBPOBATION OF THE BOBOUGH OF WILLOWACRE. WITH ALL ABOUT THE BRIDGE AND THE BARONET, THE BRIDGE DEED AND THE GREAT SCHOLAR, THE TOLL-KEEPER AND HIS DAUGHTER, THE FIDDLER AND HIS VIRTUES, THE LAWYER AND HIS ROGUERIES, AND ALL THE REST OF IT. BY ADAM H0BNB00K, STUDENT BY HIS OWN FIRESIDE, AND AMONG HIS NEIGHBOURS WHEN HE CAN SECURE THE ARM-CHAIR IN THE CORNER. YOL. II. LONDON : GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & CO., FARRINGDON STREET. 1853. M { CORQUODALE AND CO., PRINTERS, LONDON— WORKS, NEWTON. CONTENTS OF YOL. II. Sunk ijii Irnuttr. Page In which Fortune begins to look askance on some of our Actors ; and WHICH CONCLUDES BY INTRODUCING JACK TO A FAYOURABLE CHANGE OF Fortune, brought about without his own seeking . . .1 Chap. I. — Who y/ere at the Ball, and who was not there: how Gregory Mark- pence was frightened by an Old Ghost; and the Lawyer faced the Fiends . . . . . . .3 II. — The Baronet begins to sit on Thorns, takes Threap’s advice, and then repulses him . . . . . . .11 III — The Lawyer makes use of his Limbs and his Wits: young Jonathan is sentenced to Exile: a new Light strikes in upon Jack Jigg . 19 IV. — Our Minstrel performs a characteristic Service for Jonathan and Margery: he meets little Davy Drudge: their Conversation, and the remarkable Issue to which it leads . . . .26 Containing matters which will cause the Header some surprise, unless he be of the temperament called “ Phlegmatic ; ’’ and some solici- tude, unless his sympathies be Lethargic . . . .37 Chap. I. — Which is the second of what some Readers may deem to belong to the superfluous order, inasmuch as it is Non-historic . .39 II. — Peter Weatherwake’s Philosophy, and the efie.ct upon his mind of Jerry Dimple’s news: May Silverton’s thinkings and employ- ment . . . ... . . .42 III. — Which describes the way in which Friendly Relations were in- creased between the Baronet, Gilbert Pevensey, and his Sister . 48 VI CONTENTS. Page Chap. IV. — The grand Discovery: Dingyleaf and Plombline: the new Con- spiracy of Hugh and Mr. Nicky . . . . .52 V. — The Lawyer returns “ like the Dog to his Vomit, and like the Sow to her Wallowing in the Mire:” the Conversation of Peter Weatherwake and Will Scroggs the Sexton . . .63 VI. — Shows how all Willowacre, Gilbert, and Sir Nigel, were willing that a certain event should be brought about; and how Alice halted between two Opinions: May’s continuance in the path of Duty . . . . . . . .74 VII. — In which the workings of our Minstrel’s mind are described ; and new Cares come upon him by the serious Errors of Betty Brown, and the Lightness of Margery . . . . .80 VIII. — Re-entrance of Hugh Plombline on the arena of Statemanship ; Jack’s higher Wisdom displayed in his rejection of Expediency for Openness and Honesty . . . . . .88 Sunk ijjt Hittijt. In which our Hero, the goodly Alderman, re-appears, and rallies his Party ....... .97 Chap. I. — Another chapter which is not in continuation of the Narrative; but is quintessentially connected with the Character of the Hero . 101 II. — The Health of goodly Alderman Ralph is happily restored; and the Friendly Meetings of his Party at the Wheat Sheaf are re- newed ........ 104 III. — Threap extracts the Secret from the great Scholar of the four Pro- nomina; has that Personage in his bad power; and plans his crowning Villainies . . . . . .112 IV. — The Author attempts to show that Jack Jigg possesses the soul of a Gentleman; but introduces him into very questionable Company 118 V. — Another scene in Willowacre church : good and bad Thoughts of some among the Congregation : Sir Nigel proposes to Alice, and is accepted ....... 125 Wherein new and undeserved Misfortune overtakes our Minstrel, and the Lawyer makes a rapid stride in Villainy . . .131 Chap. I, — A notable Piece of Philosophy on “ Presentiments:” Jack pays a Second Visit to Betty Brown, and thinks himself exceedingly well treated by Nykin and Company . . . . .133 CONTENTS, Vll Page Chap. II. — Poor Jack finds that he had wofully mistaken his treatment at Old Nykin’s: his renewed Captivity: the Baronet consents to join hands in Crime with the Lawyer . . . .142 III. — Threap’s management of Plombline and Nicky: plans a splendid Aggrandisement of himself ; wrings the heart of old Farmer Jipps: the Farmer counselled by Will Scroggs the Sexton . .154 IV. — Which may be considered as a Certificate of good Character for our Minstrel, inasmuch as it shows what general and intense Sym- pathy was felt for him . . . . . .166 link tju f Imtttjr. WHICH IS THE MOST IMPORTANT IN THIS GREAT HISTORY OF WlLLOWACRE .175 Chap. I. — Which describes two Councils of RascalSj with Threap as the Chief of both . . . , . . . .177 II. — A feeling- hearted Apostrophe to the Fallen: the Toll-keeper finds something out, and falls into a Soliloquy, which calls forth more of the Author’s philosophy . . . . .189 III. — Shows that the great Scholar of the four Pronomina is not a Hero; and that the Lawyer keeps his Courage amidst untoward Cir- cumstances ....... 195 IV. — Containing not very important Matter at the beginning ; but, anon, entering the very heart of Danger with Betty Brown . .203 V. — Our Minstrel again before the Magistrates; and again sent back to Durance vile ....... VI. — Davy’s conversation, and the Toll-keeper’s odd conference with Mr. Ralph : the Eleventh Book of this History concludes by giving the goodly Alderman the great desire of his heart . .211 Irak tjn fmtlftjr. Which brings this History to an end; and executes Poetical Justice on the Actors thereof . . . . . .231 Chap. I. — Which is unhistorical ; but which gives a shrewd Hint towards the improvement of all Future Histories . . . .233 II. — Gilbert Pevensey seeks an explanation with his Sister; and receives one that throws him out of all his Calculations . . .236 HI. — Threap and Dingyleaf begin to feel their Perils increase, and the Scholar again gives way to his own Weakness . . .244 IV. — Preparation for the grand Expedition of honest Men against Rogues 243 V. — Strange position of the Rogues’ Camp : the Advance upon it — the Struggle — the Defence — the Capture — the Escape . .253 CONTENTS. viii Page Chap. VI. — Heroic resolutions and Plans of the Baronet in his ruined Position : the Message from his fugitive Prime Minister .263 VII. — The interview of Lawyer and grand Client in the Wood; and their desperate Resolves . . . . .269 VIII. — Mr. Ralph says something which makes May very happy: he suc- ceeds in obtaining mercy for the Transgressor: the Baronet exe- cutes part of the scheme agreed to in the Wood . .276 IX. — Our Minstrel set free : the great Scholar delivers the Bridge Deed in form : the downfall of Plombline and Mr. Nicky. Dingyleaf ’s marriage and exody from Willowacre . . . .283 X. — Which being the Last, should not be described ; since Nobody would have patience to read the description of it . . . 28S BOOK VII. Sa mljirjj /nrtnai togias tn lank askaarr nu snare nf ant friars ; anil mljirfr rnarlniira hg intrnirnring Sark in a fannnralilr Cjraagt nf /nrtaar, krangjit ahnnt nritjpmt jjis man srrking. vol. ir. £ / ALDERMAN RALPH, CHAPTER I. Who were at the Ball, and who was not there: how Gregory Markpence was frightened by an Old Ghost; and the Lawyer faced the Fiends. Are there not as many degrees of goodness as of wickedness among men and women kind h “ Good-sort-of ” men and women are not scarce. They are to he found almost every where. And so are bad-sort-of people. Yet none of us know many very bad people; and we know still fewer that are very good. May it not be, however, that some of our acquaintances are far better than we esteem them to be? We cannot truly be said to admire a virtue which we never strive to possess; and so are not likely to admire very highly the possessor of such a virtue. His or her excellence will rather seem to us, in such a case, a species of over- strained goodness ; a something which would be admirable in an angel, but is unnatural in humankind ; a pearl mis-set ; a beauty so misplaced that it has become a deformity; and thus it and the wearer of it are to be spoken of with pity rather than praise. Alice Pevensey was decidedly a “ good-sort-of ” young lady ; but could not appreciate the self-denial of May Silverton, and the ever careful and tender solicitude May showed for her poor uncle. “ I tell you, Gilbert, it is of no use,” repeated Alice to her 4 ALDERMAN RALPH. brother, on the evening of the grand ball, “ I will call on her again, if yon like ; but she will not go. Do you think she will, Edgar 1 ?” That intelligent young gentleman confirmed the judgment of Alice. He usually did so : just as Alice was accustomed to con- firm his judgments. Gilbert Pevensey strode up and down the room, and looked exceedingly discontented. “Well, I really feel it unkind of May,” he said; but his heart immediately blamed him, and he added, “ yet it all springs from her fear that she should neglect her duty to her uncle.” “Of course it does, brother,” assented the sister; “but she carries it too far : that’s my opinion. The fact is, she is ruining her health by perpetual confinement. I really pity her.” “ It would have relieved her spirits, and done her real good, if she would have joined the company to-night,” observed Gilbert. “ So I ventured to tell her, myself,” observed Edgar; “ but she seemed quite hurt by it; and asked me how I could think she could abandon her duty to her uncle to seek her own pleasure? I told her, that to leave Mr. Ralph with Dr. Dingyleaf, just for one evening, would and could be no abandonment of duty.” “ Y ou were right, Edgar : quite right,” said Alice, with a very important movement of her head. “ If he needed any little service, there were Betty and Patty at hand,” continued Edgar ; “ and, since he now goes to bed so early, she could not rob him of much attention by going to the ball. But she would not hear of it.” “ She’s so timid,” rejoined Gilbert, “ and so afraid of our being observed. I fear that’s partly the reason why she will not go.” “ Well, I reasoned with her as strongly as I could about that,” professed Alice; “ I told her that, amidst the general and mixed company of a ball, there could be no danger of particular observa- tions being made about her. Edgar would have conducted her to the Guildhall ; and she might have danced with him as often as with, you, brother” — “ I told her the same myself,” said Edgar. ALDERMAN RALPH. 5 “ Nobody could have observed any thing particular, I told her,” continued Alice; “but it was of no use: she declared she could not and dared not leave her uncle. I have no doubt she thinks it a duty to act so ; but it’s very pitiable to see her making her- self a slave to her sense of duty.” The conversation was longer ; but it is not necessary to rehearse more of it. The party went from Lovesoup House to the ball. The company was more numerous than select; and yet nearly every family of wealth and figure in Willowacre was there repre- sented ; but, as it would have rendered Sir Nigel unpopular if his partisans had been exclusive, every body was admitted to the “Election Ball” who could make a decent appearance. Threap was there; and set his grand client an example of tact, in offering himself as partner for the dance, to the wives and daughters of the most influential innkeepers. The baronet led off the ball with Alice. That, indeed, the whole company seemed to expect, and Threap among the rest. But Sir Nigel soon ceased to weary himself with honouring the wives and daughters of the gentry and principal tradesmen ; and, in spite of Threap’s glances, tried to dispossess Edgar Tichborne of his partner, and to remain with her. Edgar, though by no means of a jealous nature, and having with instant courtesy resigned Alice when the baronet came up to her a second time, did not feel positively pleased to see him continue with her. Did Alice feel uneasy under the baronet’s marked attention? Our “ good-sort-of ” young lady was but a woman; and, though she knew Sir Nigel to be a gay deceiver, she could not resist the enjoyment of a triumph. And it was one, to receive the distinct preference of a man of rank amidst that company ; and to observe the nods and whispers of mothers and daughters throughout the hall. After a dance with Miss Dinah Cleavewell, the blooming daughter of our old acquaintance, the alderman and wealthy butcher, — Edgar dawdled about one side of the hall, and looked often at Alice ; but she did not appear to see him. To avoid looking foolish, he was compelled to seek another partner; but 6 ALDERMAN RALPH. having repeated this thrice, he quitted the hall in a pet, and went home to Mr. Alderman Ralph’s. The ball did not break up till three in the morning, and the baronet never quitted the side of Alice; nor did Alice desire him to do so when she saw Edgar quit the hall. She confided in her power over that young man, to be able to bring him to the acknowledgment that he had acted hastily and improperly; and now resolved to enjoy her triumph to the full. That triumph was her only motive for yielding to become Sir Nigel’s partner, and subduing the reluctance she at first felt. Rut the motive was a mean one, and Alice was punished for indulging it. She listened with real indifference to her partner’s conversation in the intervals of the dance, for some time; but began to feel less indifferent before the ball broke up. Sir Nigel insisted that Alice and her brother should share his carriage, and be set down at Lovesoup House, before he returned to his inn ; and volunteered the promise of a visit next morning. Indignant at what he regarded as a silly and culpable dis- regard of self-interest on the part of his prime client, and also wearied with the insipidity of attending dames and misses, to whom he dared address the language of respect only — Threap left the ball before midnight. The wine had flowed pretty freely on the election day, and Threap had not stinted himself in sharing it; yet he proceeded to what he usually called his “ snuggery,” at the Black Swan, to swallow more wine, and then to “ top up” with brandy, after leaving the Guildhall. Threap was a daily bibber of strong potions, and was not easily affected by them. He was vexed and wearied with the labours of a long day, and swallowed his liquor hastily: the effect was so in- flammatory, that in the course of an hour he rose up to follow the wild dictates of his heated brain, and strode away to the door of the toll-house, at which he began to thunder away very unceremoniously. “ Markpence — get up ! ” he shouted, adding words we shall not set down. ALDERMAN RALPH, 7 “ Who’s there?” asked Gregory ; for the lawyer’s voice was so unnaturally strained that the toll-keeper did not recognise it. “ Who’s there? open the door and see, you son of a — — “ Threap! is it you?” asked Gregory with an oath; u be off, or I’ll open the door and shoot you ! ” “ Shoot me! that’s a good joke,” said the lawyer, with a laugh and a hiccup, which at once served to interpret to Gregory what was the condition of his visiter ; “ shoot me, indeed ! when I’m come to bring you just what you want ! Here’s the lease, man ! Open the door, I tell ye ! ” Markpence had a loaded gun in his hand, and, as he believed the lawyer would be too helpless to be able to do him an injury, he immediately opened the door when he heard the lease mentioned. “ How are ye, my good fellow?” asked Threap, seizing Gregory’s hand ; “ put that queer thing away ! I’m come to do you good : would ye blow my brains out for it ? ” Gregory knew that harshness would avail nothing with a drunken man, yet he felt it difficult to be civil. “ Mr. Threap, you had better make haste home. So give me the lease ; and then make the best of your way to Meadowbeck,” he said, gruffly. “ Nay, nay,” said Threap, reeling into a chair, “ I want to make a handsome proposal to you. I say, Markpence, where’s Margery?” Gregory swore a tremendous oath, and threatened to strike Threap if he asked such a question a second time. But the threat did not affect the drunken man ; and Gregory thought it best to try the effect of coaxing. Threap, thus encouraged, made the most outrageous professions of pure attachment to the toll-keeper’s daughter. He even became maudlin, and wept. Gregory concealed his real feelings, and let the fellow talk on, only trying to bring back the conversation to the lease. For a long time, however, the lawyer would do nothing but protest that he would make Margery a lady; and, at length, Gregory 8 ALDERMAN RALPH. gave him the right hand in mockery, and a derisive promise that Margery should become his wife ; whereupon he wept and laughed together, and dived his hand into an inside waistcoat pocket, as he said, to pull out the lease. But the lease was not in that pocket, nor was it in any other pocket ; and yet Gregory was compelled, at their owner’s urgent request, to feel in all his pockets, over and over again, and then to turn them all inside out. Markpence was unspeakably morti- fied; but the lawyer declared that the lease was on the table in his study at Meadowbeck, and vowed, if Gregory would go home with him, Gregory should have the lease at once. Much as Markpence disliked night-journeys, he determined to go home with the lawyer; and, calling to his wife to get up and attend to the gate, put on his great-coat, and invited the lawyer to set forth. The drunken man sued hard and ludicrously for one peep at Margery ; but Markpence was inexorable on that score ; and, at last, they left the toll-house and crossed the bridge. The lawyer’s legs seemed to bear him better than Gregory had expected they would, for at least one half of the way. Then they manifested a perverse tendency to cross each other, and to get into each other’s way. Finally, they bent and doubled to such a degree, that Gregory wished he had not put on his thick coat — so profusely did he sweat with the labour of supporting Threap, and preventing him from falling. Down went Threap into a mess of mud, in spite of his companion’s efforts to keep him up, just as they reached a stile — and Gregory remembered that it led into the churchyard? Gregory did not like his situation now. He wished himself at Jericho for being so ven- turesome as to come on a wild-goose errand, at such a time of night, with such a fellow, and having to pass such a place. It would not do to give way, however, Gregory told himself ; and so he laid hold of Threap, and, by one muscular effort, lifted him up bodily, and set him on his legs on the other side of the stile, and within the churchyard. ALDERMAN RALPH. 9 Gregory was in the act of crossing the stile, when the lawyer grumbled an oath, and said. “ What’s that? d’ye see? — what’s that?” “ What’s what?” asked Gregory, alarmed. “Why, that light! Look there, look there!” answered the lawyer; “ there ! on t’other side o’ th’ churchy ard ! ” Gregory saw the light, and Gregory trembled; but Gregory could neither speak, nor summon power to cross the stile ! One moment, and there was a strange unearthly sound from the other side of the churchyard — and the next moment the doughty Gregory had turned and fled ! The toll-keeper never stopped till he was far on his way home again, and then he stopped from faintness. Not so the lawyer. The light in the churchyard at such an hour had the temporary effect of restoring his nervous power ; and, in his disordered state, he was impelled to rush for- ward to the light, mocking the strange sound, and crying “ Whew ! mister Devil, whew ! Are ye fetching their bodies, as well as their souls? — whew! — There he goes, with his imps:” he said, as his multiplying eyes assured him that he saw several black figures vanishing away. The next moment, unable to stay the impetus of his own drunkenness, he dashed out the light which he had seen, fell among the soft earth of a hole only partly filled up, and was unable to rise again. His senses were speedily gone completely; and there he lay and slept, till the sexton ? coming to ring the eight o’clock bell in the morning, chanced to look towards that part of the burial-ground, and thought he saw some unusual appearance there. “ The Lord ha’ mercy upon us!” exclaimed the old man, when he came up to the spot and saw a gaily dressed man, lying dead, as he thought ; “ Good Lord ! ” he continued, noting the face, “ why, its Mister Threap!” The sexton was about to move off quickly to the village to give the alarm, when he saw the body move. So he stopped, took hold of Threap’s arm, and shouted in the lawyer’s ear. Threap opened his eyes, stared wildly, and spoke; but it was so 10 ALDERMAN RALPH. unconnectedly, that the sexton could not tell what he meant. Struggling with his stiffness and confusion, Threap gradually- regained his feet, and some portion of his wits. The sexton, mean- while, began to express great amazement at having found the law- yer there ; and then, at the appearance of that part of the burial- ground. There was a large hole, nearly filled up ; a spade ; and a lanthorn lying on its side. Threap looked on, as the old sexton audibly commented on these strange signs ; and began to entertain a notion that he had some remembrance of seeing devils and strange lights, and hearing queer noises — and also of having been at the toll-keeper’s and elsewhere — but, above all, of having been drunk, He did not choose to say aught of what he remembered, however, to the sexton ; and the old man continued to mutter his thoughts. “ Amazingly odd ! ” he remarked, “ niver knew aught like it — niver! what can it mean?” and he began, half-mechanically, to push the spade among the soft earth. “ Marcy on us ! ” he exclaimed ; “ why, I can feel a coffin underneath! what murderous work’s here, I wonder?” and the old man began to throw out the moulds, till he had disinterred the two kegs of smuggled liquor ! Threap’s senses rallied in a moment. “ Cover ’em up ! ” said he to the sexton, “ and say not a word about it to any body. Here is some thieves’ trick, and we must be as secret as death till we find them out. We’ll take these things out when it is dark to-night, and I’ll take care of ’em till we learn more about it. But cover ’em up till then. Bring the spade and the lanthorn to my house when you have made the ground straight, and I’ll give you a good day’s wage for your labour. But be sure to tell no one — for if you do, you may get into trouble.” The old man touched his hat as Threap walked off — looked after the lawyer, and shook his head ; — but proceeded to do as the lawyer had bidden him. ALDERMAN RALPH. 11 CHAPTER II. The Baronet begins to sit on Thorns, takes Threap’s advice, and then repulses him. Little sinners — poor weak fellows who keep a conscience — are arrant cowards after transgression, flee from the smallest sign of detection, and then lie squat, silent, and trembling as a hare in her form. Great sinners — transgressors by daily and hourly habit — are brave as bull-dogs ; and rather try to bark and bluster, and stare down suspicion and accusation, than to seek safety in flight or concealment. Our minstrel and young Jonathan ran off from their half- finished burial of the liquor- kegs, leaving shovel and lanthorn behind them, did not dare to go back, and kept as much as pos- sible out of sight next day. Threap hastily changed his dress and took a cold bath, received the shovel and lanthorn at the hand of the sexton, gave the old man a crown, and again en- joined secresy; and then dashed off in his gig to Willowacre. Gregory Markpence sought to stop him at the toll-gate. But Threap would not be stayed. He was at the Red Lion, and in the presence of Sir Nigel Nickem, in a few minutes after he had crossed the bridge. To his surprise, the baronet expressed great pleasure at seeing him; but when the lawyer learnt the cause, he was not himself so very greatly pleased. “ Glad you are come, Threap ! ” exclaimed the great man, springing up eagerly from his chair; “ I have been expecting you these two hours. What do you advise me to do? Prate well and others are to be here as a deputation from the shareholders in the new companies, in the course of half an hour ; and Back- stitch and Plombline have just been here to tell me, slily, what 12 ALDERMAN RALPH. it is all about. They want me to pay the amount for which Pevensey has set down my name as a subscriber; and — the fact is — I cannot.” The speaker pronounced his last words with great hesitation, seeing the lawyer’s face suddenly acquire that old forbidding expression. “ What are we to do, Threap 1 ?” he asked again, unable to bear Threap’s silence. “ What are we to do, Sir Nigel?” “ Well — you know what I mean” — “ I know that I want money, and that I must have it, too. I have your written promise that I should be paid on the day after the chairing; and I expect you to perform — and that this morning.” The baronet did not swear at Threap, or affect to threaten or defy him. He now knew Threap well enough to discontinue those fruitless methods. And, besides, he had spoken the truth. He could not bluster with the aim to carry his money off ; for he had none. “ Threap,” he said, “ do not deceive yourself with the expec- tation that you will receive money from me to-day. It is a fact which I shall not repeat — that I have no money.” The lawyer could read his client’s look, and felt sure that what he had just heard was the truth. It did not tend to his complacency; but what could he do? He had hoped that the gamester’s old habits were broken; but when he learned that they were not, he blamed his own want of sense for ever having imagined that Sir Nigel or any other desperate gambler could reform, and sat turning over in his mind how he should proceed to get hold of some portion of the wealth which, it seemed to him, its present holder would soon lose altogether. “Well, Threap,” said the miserable spendthrift, unable to sit and bear the lawyer’s glazed look as well as his own inward torture, “ if you have nothing to say, I’ll order my carriage and be off to town instantly” — and his hand had nearly touched the bell- pull. ALDERMAN RALPH. 13 “ Stay, if you please, Sir Nigel!” entreated Threap in a tone so soft, that the baronet shrunk with an indefinable fear at the change ; you must not commit yourself in that way. Re- member your own declaration, that you meant to spend a month with us. I have repeated it, every where. It is now so fully understood, that the foulest suspicions will be formed if you break it.” “ I suppose I may have a sudden call to London as well as any other man. There is nothing improbable in that,” returned Sir Nigel, still feeling his repugnance at the change in Threap’s manner. “ Not under ordinary circumstances,” observed the lawyer; “ but to go off now, after a formal notice that this deputation is about to wait on you, — do you not think it certain that they will suspect you guessed the sore point of their errand, and that you got out of their way purposely ? ” Sir Nigel Nickem permitted his temper to rise so far as to bend a frown on Threap, and to say — “ Purposely ! What, sir, have you dared to give a hint to any one of what you know?” “ Don’t take me for such a sheer simpleton, even for my own sake,” answered the lawyer, quietly ; “ I have lied for you through thick and thin. They believe you to be as rich as king Solomon. Credit me for that ! But I know they are sore at the non-pay- ment of the first election bills ; that they positively expect you to pay those bills, and the bills for the present election before you quit the town; and that some whisper you are like some other great Parliament folks — you know what I mean?” The lawyer had beguiled his client into a laugh; and the temptation he was about to essay was the less likely to startle the tempted. " They do not, in the smallest degree, suspect you to be unable to pay ; they fear you will be unwilling,” continued the lawyer ; “ now, that I know to be the state of feeling among the innkeepers and the poor voters. If the like suspicion should 14 ALDERMAN RALPH. get into the heads of your wealthier supporters, it would not be easy to remedy the mischief. We must avoid that.” “ Well, Threap,” said the baronet, sitting down with an encouraged look, and effectually won back to his admiration of the prime-minister, “ I want us to avoid that ; but how is it to be avoided? The deputation will be here immediately.” “ J ust ask Pevensey to put down the amount of your sub- scriptions to the different companies; and then we will talk over other matters when the deputation is gone.” “ Pevensey!” said Sir Nigel. It was the only word he said; and Threap perceived most unerringly what a deep feeling of alarm dictated its utterance ; but he masked his perception most completely. “ He is sure to be one of the deputation,” said Threap ; “ and nothing could be more natural than for you to observe at once, when they give the hint about payment, that your friend would pay the amount of the subscriptions — I suppose you do not know the amount?” “ Indeed, I do not,” answered Sir Nigel, instantly. a All the better. Do not listen to the amount, but take it for granted.” The servant announced “ Mr. Pratewell, Mr. Pevensey, and several other gentlemen,” and withdrew. “ Take it for granted that Pevensey will be proud to pay — I will be engaged at this writing-table” — The deputation entered almost before Threap had fixed himself at his pretended employ. It was composed of Pratewell, Pevensey, Cleavewell, Siftall, Plombline, Backstitch, Poundsmall, and some half-dozen more. Sir Nigel felt that he was now indeed a desperate gamester, and so thrust down and trod upon, not only his imaginings and indefinable dread of doing wrong, but even the clear suggestions of his understanding. The deputation met him with gaiety. It might have passed for the gaiety of recent electioneering success ; but the baronet’s quick apprehension assured him that it was overdone, and assumed to ALDERMAN RALPH. 15 cover an unpleasant errand. Sir Nigel took care not to let the hilarity subside before business was introduced. He asked, with his sweetest smile — “ Well, now, gentlemen, what is the particular business this morning? Just state it at once, and without the slightest cere- mony.” Mr. Prate well hemmed, delivered an ornate exordium, entered on the subject, reached the word “ subscription” — “ Oh ! ah ! the subscriptions : to be sure,” said Sir Nigel, “ Gilbert, you know what they are. I gave you carte blanche , you know.” “ You did,” said Pevensey, “ and I took the advantage of it. Mr. Prate well will read out the sums and startle you,” he con- cluded with a laugh, in which Sir Nigel joined. “ The subscriptions in your name, Sir Nigel, are as follows,” began Mr. Pomponius. “ Oh, never mind the figures!” explained the baronet, bravely. “ Gilbert, just be kind enough to pay the money, and I’ll repay you before I go to town.” “ With pleasure, Nigel,” answered Gilbert, feeling proud. “ Gentlemen, I purpose — thank you, Gilbert ! — I purpose remaining with you a short time, and hope to have the pleasure of seeing you often.” So' saying, the baronet rose, anxious to put an end to the in- terview. The members of the deputation rose likewise. Cleave- well — the baronet noted — pulled Prate well by the arm, and was beginning to whisper something in his ear; but the town-clerk bent his brows, and looked significantly, and silenced the rich butcher. The deputation departed ; and Threap and his client were left again by themselves. Sir Nigel Nickem sank into his chair, and looked the picture of wretchedness. Threap saw it clearly enough; but affected calmness and satisfaction. “ That business so well over, Sir Nigel,” he began, “ we may now be encouraged to proceed” — 16 ALDERMAN RALPH. “To ruin and damnation!” exclaimed the client, gnashing his teeth ; “ for you are leading me there !” “ You know better,” said the lawyer, with a slight smile, and preserving his perfect coolness; “I suggested that your friend, Mr. Pevensey, would be proud to lay down the amount of your subscriptions ; and you see I was right.” “ Right !” cried the baronet, with an oath, “ don’t talk to me of right, you tempting fiend” — “ Sir Nigel Nickem,” interrupted Threap in an iron tone, and with his old fell look, “ I give you fair warning ! Give up all that dramatic nonsense, and speak to me in the language of a gentleman of rank and station, or I will ease you of my presence at once. You understand me. I need say no more.” “ Go, then, go ! ” cried the other, frantically ; “ it would have been better for me if I had never seen you. Go, you horse- leech ! ” — and on he raved, till he was either wearied, or again subdued by the gaze which Threap fastened upon him. “ What is to be done next, Mephistopheles?” he said, after they had sat in silence some minutes. “ I don’t know the meaning of that foreign word, Sir Nigel,” answered Threap; “ it conveys no compliment to me, I suppose; but I care nothing about it. I am willing to tender you my poor advice, in answer to your question, when you are calm and rational enough to receive it. For the present, I beg to wish you ‘ good-morning.’ I will wait upon you whenever you choose to send for me ; but shall not trouble you again unless ” — “ Good God, Threap!” cried the miserable M.P., starting up to prevent the lawyer, who had already risen to go, “ would you desert me, and all for a few hasty words'? Is this yonr return for what I have done for you?” “ You ought to apply that question on my behalf to yourself, Sir Nigel,” answered the lawyer; “ since you deem it a desertion, I will not go, oil condition that you will conduct yourself — reasonably.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 17 “ Sit down — sit down, Threap ! I am reasonable now. It is all owing to my own accursed folly ! ” “ If you are duly sensible of that, Sir Nigel, I am sure you will withdraw the assertion, that it would have been better for you if you had never seen me — together with certain epithets that you applied to me.” “ I do — I do, Threap ! You know my temper. Let us say no more about it. What is to be done next ? — that is the question. I must repay Pevensey before I go back to town’’ — “And I want my two hundred pounds this morning” — “ D’y e mean to madden me?” “ I was only assisting you to make out a schedule of your difficulties: your innkeepers’ bill for the two elections amount, I should suppose, to about a thousand pounds ; and the poor electors will need at least another thousand distributing among them”— “ They may go to the devil” — “ They did not imagine he was your banker. Besides, they would rather have something in hand, and delay the journey to that gentleman’s establishment until their due time comes.” The baronet bit his lip in vexation ; but made no reply. He felt that he could now no longer threaten or awe his agent into even an appearance of servility. “ Money, Sir Nigel — money must now be had,” went on the lawyer ; “ you have proposed the question to me — ‘ What is to be done next?’ I must, before I try to answer itf make free to ask you a question — What property have you left of which money can be made?” “None that I shall part with,” answered the client, sullenly. “ Then I cannot answer your question.” “ You borrowed for me before without subjecting me to the loss of my land” — “ Yes: because when you had submitted the condition of your affairs to me fully, I saw that it warranted me in so doing. If VOL. II. c 18 ALDERMAN RALPH. you will be as candid with me as before, you shall have the best advice I can give you.” The baronet sat silent and thoughtful a few moments, and then suddenly desired Threap to leave him, and call again on the morrow. The lawyer stared; but rose up and withdrew. ALDERMAN RALPH. 19 CHAPTER III. The Lawyer makes use both of his Limbs and his Wits : young Jonathan is sentenced to Exile : a new Light strikes in upon Jack Jigg. The toll-keeper was again unsuccessful in attempting to stop the lawyer. Threap hastened home in his gig, and prepared to accomplish the night business he had projected. He dug a hole in a secluded part of his garden; and, so soon as it was dark, opened the old vault, and removed from it every spirit-keg and box of tobacco or cigars it contained, and, placing them in the hole he had dug, covered them up, and stuck the mould above with rows of cabbage plants. A little before midnight, with the help of the old sexton, he took up the two kegs from the corner of the churchyard, and remaining there until the sexton had thrown in the earth, and strewed rubbish over the spot, hastened home with the kegs, again charging the old man to be secret. Threap, though a strong-built and active man, was thoroughly wearied with his labour; and having refreshed himself with some solid food, sat down in his study, with the brandy-bottle and hot-water before him, to assist the cogitations he purposed to pursue before he went to bed. He had scarcely begun to think when his eye fell on the lanthorn and spade which he had hastily received from the sexton in the morning. He took up the lanthorn, half mechanically ; but the thought struck him, as he turned it round, that it was a farmer’s lanthorn. “ It was the fiddler’s rogue’s face that I saw that night,” he said to himself; “ but a clumsy lumbering thing like this cannot have belonged to him. This must belong to one of the farmers.” He turned it round and round ; but found no particular mark 20 ALDERMAN RALPH 1 # upon it. Taking up the spade, however, there was the small brand, “ J. Jipps,” upon the handle. “ Oh, ho ! ” he chuckled to himself; “ so, now I have it ! The two cronies, Fiddler Jack and young Jonathan, are in the mess, at any rate. There seemed to be more of ’em running away, but then I was so beastly drunk that I might be mistaken. How they found out the vault is the mystery,” he continued, rising to put away the spade and lanthorn in a close cupboard, and then sitting down again ; “ the fiddler would not be prowling about my premises at midnight, unless somebody had set him on. Has old Peter, or the coast-waiter, waged him to it, I wonder? Hever mind : I’ve baffled them, if they come. They’ll find nothing in the vault.” Then he revolved in his mind the desirableness of revenging himself on the intruders. They were just the two against whom he bore the deepest grudge for standing in the way of his guilty desire to possess and ruin Margery Markpence. The fiddler he hated, and half-formed a resolution to shoot Jack. It would be easy to do that, he thought, by waylaying the frequent night- traveller. He would not like to shoot the young farmer; but, if he could frighten his rival out of the neighbourhood, it might enable him to secure Margery the more easily. He must try a little scheme in that direction to-morrow. “ But, to the main point,” he said to himself ; “ how to manage my grand client? I could smash him up, if I liked. I have but to speak, and it is done. But I can’t afford to do it. I am only critically situated myself. I must place my own circumstances on a better foundation before I ruin his. What has he got into his head, I wonder, that he so suddenly dismissed me this after- noon? He can’t devise any scheme of his own to restore his rotten fortunes — for he’s not the shrewd rogue I took him to be — though he is a rogue, for all that. Like the rest of these gambling fools, he imagines Luck will throw a mountain of gold into his clutch one of these days. That’s all he runs at. He can think of no other way of getting out of his difficulties. But who will ALDERMAN RALPH. 21 lie find to gamble with him in Willowacre? He can’t help him- self there, in that way. To-morrow, I expect to find him a little more complaisant. We shall see. Let me have the chance of managing another mortgage for him, and if I don’t effectually feather my own nest, my name is not Threap ! ” Such were the rascally lawyer’s self-consolations ; and when he had administered both them and the brandy in abundance, he betook himself to bed. While Threap was so busy with the removal of his liquor-kegs, Jack Jigg and his young friend were tasting a little more liquor in Farmer Jipps’ barn; but neither of them were disposed to indulge in taking much of it. J ack’s first communication was, that his wife had been through the churchyard, and had observed that the ground had been levelled in the corner, and she could not find either the spade or the lanthorn. “ That’s bad hearing,” said Jonathan. “ The old sexton has found ’em, depend on it,” said J ack ; a my wife saw him peeping at her, and when he saw she had caught sight of him, he popped back into the church-porch.” “ One might get ’em back from the old man, by giving him the valuedom of a quart of ale” — “ He’d see your coffin walk, sooner! He’s a sly old file. I shouldn’t like to ask him.” “ I wish we had not been such frightened owls as to run away, and leave the lanthorn and shovel behind us.” “ Who could help it ? I wonder who the deuce it could be that ran upon us, making that horrible noise. I’ve frightened many folks by night i’ th’ churchyard” — “ And now it’s come home to ye, Jack.” “ I’faith it has, lad!” said Jigg, with a faint laugh, “ and in a way I don’t like.” “Well, never mind, drink,” said the young farmer, handing his comrade the can ; “ don’t let us be faint-hearted. Drink ! the liquor’s cheap ! ” “ Cheap things often prove dearly bought, my dear lad,” ob- 22 ALDERMAN RALPH. served Jack, sadly ; “ I fear there’s some deep trouble brewing for us for what we’ve done. I shall never forgive myself for drawing you into this mad scheme.” “ Confound it ! ” said J onathan, “ we can soon put ourselves out of fear. Let us go, at once, and tell old Peter Weather wake all about it. He’ll soon firk the lawyer.” “ We might have done that if we had taken nothing out of the vault.” “ Why, who knows aught about that but ourselves and the lawyer? And do you think they’ll believe him?” “ But who knows whether the sexton has not found the kegs? The mark you say there is on the shovel will enable him to find you out, at any rate. And then, if the fact be traced home to us, we shall get into trouble — even if we do inform against Threap.” “We are in greater danger than I thought we were,” said Jonathan, after looking silently on the barn-floor for some time. “We had better not thrust ourselves bodily into danger, by informing against Threap,” said Jack ; “ depend upon it, he’ll make no open stir about his vault having been opened. Our best plan will be to remain quiet, and say nothing. If it should happen that we are brought into trouble about the kegs being found in the churchyard — why, then, we can but tell all about the vault.” They agreed on this course, and separated; but the next morning determined their wider separation. Young Jonathan’s father was suddenly sent for to Threap’s house; and was thus accosted by the lawyer as they entered the study, where stood the old sexton with spade and lanthorn in his hands : — “ I beg respectfully to ask you, Mr. Jipps, whether you recog- nize these as your property ? ” “ Yes : they are mine, to a certainty,” replied the old farmer, handling the shovel and eyeing the lanthorn with surprise. “ Sexton, can you swear that you found them in the church- ALDERMAN RALPH. 23 yard, near a hole partly filled up ; and that you dug out these two kegs of liquor from that hole?” asked Threap. “ I can,” answered the sexton. “ Mr. Jipps, please to let me have a word with you in this room,” said Threap. The old farmer followed the lawyer, who immediately locked the door of the room they entered, and thus addressed the alarmed father: — “ Your son, I fear, Mr. Jipps, has been guilty of an indiscre- tion — for of course, a man at your time of life cannot have done this. Now, I respect you as a good neighbour; and I advise you, as a friend, to send J onathan away somewhere, or I shall be obliged to have him taken up. I say no more. Go, and send him off to some distant part of England, and that as soon as you can!” Threap let the old farmer out at another door; and with astonishment, and fear and trembling, the father hastened home, and began, with tears, to charge his son with the crime of theft. Jack Jigg was soon in the farmer’s parlour — for young Jonathan had sent for Jack the moment that he heard the lawyer had sent for his father. Our minstrel made full confession to the aged farmer of his discovery of the vault, and of his having taken J onathan with him to enter it, and of the liquor they had taken from it ; and conjured the father to lay the blame upon him, and not upon Jonathan. The old man heard the whole statement with wonder, and broke out into exclamations against Threap’s rascality. “ Put the bay mare into the light cart shafts,” said the indig- nant farmer to his son; “and we’ll all three be off to Willow- acre, and tell the coast- waiter all about it? After cheating me so often, does the villain think he’s to send my son from me?” “ Stop, Jonathan!” said Jack, laying hold of the young farmer’s arm, and preventing him ; “ let us consider a bit ! ” “ Consider! what, in the name of Patience, is there to be considered?” cried the old man. 24 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ A good deal, Mr. Jipps,” answered Jack; “ has not Lawyer Threap some papers of yours T’ The old man’s face fell; and he looked reprovingly at his son. “ Don’t be angry with me, father ! ” entreated J onathan ; “ I’ve told nobody but Jack; and I’m sure he’ll tell nobody else.” The old man sat, unable to speak, and shook with trouble. Our minstrel was constrained to be the sole speaker for some time. He argued the case forcibly; and both the farmer and his son, at length, agreed that it would be better, for the present, to seem to take Threap’s advice. So Jonathan prepared to leave his distressed father; and it was agreed that, so soon as he should be ready, Jack should set out with him, and accompany him for a few miles of his way. Jonathan, when his bundle was ready, expressed renewed unwillingness to depart ; but the father was now as fully fixed as Jack in the belief that it was better to avoid the lawyer’s anger and craft for the present. “ He would ruin us, my lad, for he has it in his power,” said the old man; “the Old ’un himself is not deeper than Threap.” “ But the devil often deceives his children!” interjected the fiddler. “ True, Jack ! and this rascal’s downfall will surely come,” declared the aged farmer; “ but, for the present, we had better bend to the storm. You need not go so very far out of the way, my dear lad — but Jack and you will arrange that.” The old man bore the separation with greater apparent firm- ness than his son. Jonathan had been brought up with tender- ness, and it was the first time he had left home. There was another cause for his grief, besides separation from his parents ; and he cried bitterly as Jack and he went over the first few fields towards Willowacre. Jack tried to soothe him, by the persuasion that his banishment would only be temporary. “ But she may be married before I come back,” said J onathan, sobbing as if his heart would break. “By Jingo!” broke forth Jack, with sudden excitement, “ there’s a new light strikes before me!” ALDERMAN RALPH. 25 “ What — what d’ye mean?” asked Jonathan, gazing at the change in Jack’s face. Jack did not answer for some time, but walked with his eyes bent on the ground, while J onathan half- forgot to grieve, with anxiety to learn what the fiddler was thinking about. “ Jonathan,” began Jack, at last, “ answer me with the sense of a man, and not with blind and foolish fondness — Couldn’t you be happy with Betty Brown, your old sweetheart, for a wife?” “ Never!” answered Jonathan, savagely; “ I never liked her in my life. She never was any sweetheart o’ mine — though she wanted to be.” “ Then, that’s at an end!” — and Jack stamped with his foot to give it emphasis; — “now you mean to say, Jonathan, that you can’t be happy without Margery?” Jonathan affirmed it, passionately. “ Then I mean to say you shall have her,” said Jack, “ or my name’s not what it is.” “ God bless ye, Jack!” cried Jonathan, and grasped the fiddler’s hand, and danced for joy ; for he fervently believed Jack to be wellnigh omnipotent in love affairs. “ Jonathan,” said Jack, “ from this moment take heart, and keep up your spirit, like a man. I mean to do so. I can tell you that. We shall have to pass through some trouble; for there has been more mischief done by this devilkin of a lawyer than you know of. But I’ll thwart him, or I’ll crack my wits with trying. He’ll tumble into the pit he’s been digging for others — take my word for it. Keep your heart up, I tell ye!” “ I will,” declared Jonathan, resolutely. " You would like to see Margery” — “ Oh, Jack!”— “ Now,®my dear fellow, just hold yourself in a bit! Don’t be a baby ! I’ll walk on to the toll-house as fast as I can. You come after; but stop on this side the bridge till I come and fetch you ! ” — and away J ack strode to accomplish the scheme he had so suddenly formed. 26 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER IV. Our Minstrel performs a characteristic Service for Jonathan and Margery: he meets little Davy Drudge : their Conversation, and the 'remarkable Issue to which it leads. “ Markpence, answer me from the bottom of your heart,” de- manded Jack Jigg, when the toll-keeper, at Jack’s hint, had requested the mother and daughter to withdraw, “ are you fully sensible that Threap only means to ruin your child, while he pretends a wish to marry her'?” u I am,” answered Gregory, instantly. “ Do ye say that solemnly ? ” “ I do — but what ails ye? You look wild.” u Never mind how I look. Have you a wish that she should become the honest wife of the honest lad that loves her, instead of being the trull of that scamp of a lawyer?” “ Don’t put me in a passion, Jigg ! She never shall be his trull. I would throw her into the Slowflow sooner; or send a bullet through his ribs. The double-distilled villain ! He has played me a falser trick than ever since I saw you.” And then Gregory gave the fiddler a hasty recital of his journey with the drunken lawyer to fetch the lease, and of his disappointment. He hesitated when he came to describe his own flight, remember- ing the old “ Go back ! ” But J ack drew the whole truth out of him ; and, for reasons that Gregory did not dream of, felt deeply interested in the narrative. “ And have you seen him since?” asked Jack. “ Twice — twice !” answered Gregory, with an execration, “ and he would scarcely speak to me. He is a bag of deceit and villainy ! ” ALDERMAN RALPH. 27 “ I believe it,” said Jack; “ and now let ns dismiss him. Yon shall get the lease in spite of him. At least I’ll try if it can’t be done. Bnt yon did not answer me abont the yonng farmer.” “ Yon know I want him to have her.” “ Then will yon call her down-stairs, and then leave me with her a few minutes, that I may say a few words to her?” The toll-keeper called Margery down-stairs, left her with J ack, and went ontside the door and closed it immediately. “ Margery, J onathan is leaving ns all,” began the fiddler, look- ing very gravely at the girl. She looked agitated, and tried to speak, bnt seemed nnable. “ Threap has mined him ; and it is all on yonr acconnt,” con- tinned Jack. Margery clnng to Jack’s arm, while her heart heaved, and her face became deathly pale; bnt she suppressed the disposition to scream, from the remembrance that her father was near. “ What is it yon are telling me, Jack?” said the girl; “ what d’ye mean by ruining him? where is Jonathan?” “ He’s not far off at present,” answered Jack; “but he’ll soon be hundreds of miles away from you, and you’ll see him no more. Threap has charged him with theft, just to get him out of the way, that the foul wretch may lay hold of yon, and make you a degraded woman. This is what has come of yonr yielding to temptation again. Threap will never marry yon. I merely come to warn yon, for the last time, against that rascal’s baseness. As for Jonathan, yon may give up all thoughts of him. He’s going away, and” — “Where is he, Jack?” asked Margery wildly; “I’ll go with him to the world’s end. Where is he? If he goes without me, I’ll follow him.” “ D’ye mean to say, and say solemnly, Margery, that yon have any real respect for J onathan ? ” “ Yon know I have, Jack. I’ve been foolish. I know I have. Bnt I’ll never speak to the lawyer any more.” “ How, listen to me, Margery. Jonathan is at the other end 28 ALDERMAN RALPH. o’ the bridge ; and would like to see yon for a few minutes, as he goes by. He’s obliged to quit this part of the country for a time. But it shall not be long. I’ll baffle this rascally Threap, as sure as I live, and bring Jonathan back again. Will you promise to be faithful to the lad, if your father will permit him to see you?” “I will— I will, Jack!”— “ How, then, sit down and be quiet a few minutes, till I go and fetch him.” So saying, J ack stepped outside the door and said to Gregory — “ Markpence, you must grant me a particular favour, and I’ll do you a good service in return. Young Jonathan is going a journey, and will not return for some time. I want him to see the girl now — for he’s waiting at the other end o’ the bridge; and Margery wishes to see him.” “With all my heart,” answered Gregory; “I’ll refuse you nothing, Jack.” The fiddler did not wait for another word. He was speedily at Jonathan’s side; and Jonathan was soon with his sweetheart. Gregory and J ack remained at the toll-gate, and talked. “This journey is a matter of compulsion,” said Jack; “the lad has no business away from his father’s farm. But Threap has played him a rascally trick, just to get him out of the way, and to be able to compass his evil will regarding your daughter.” Gregory set his teeth together. “ Hold your noise, now ! ” said J ack, stopping the toll-keeper’s rage ; “ it’s of no use swearing, either here or within doors. I’ll tell you more about it at a proper time. The girl has solemnly promised me that she will never speak to the lawyer any more.” “ I’ll break her neck if she does ! ” burst out the toll-keeper. “ That’s not the way to talk about your own child, Mr. Mark- pence,” said Jack. “ I don’t wish to stir your temper by calling up to memory what ought to be buried; but you must be sensible, if you’ll only think a little, that you drive the poor lass to act foolishly, because you make her home unpleasant. How, ALDERMAN RALPH. 29 do act more like a father in future ; and, take my word for it, you’ll find she’ll he a good lass, and will behave dutifully fco you. Will you promise me that, now?” “I will, Jack — I will! I believe you are right. But it’s my cursed temper. I was born so.” “ There may be something in that ; for we are not all bom alike, either in temper or features. But then, when we have sense enough to know where our weakness lies, you know we ought to guard against it, Mr. Markpence.” J ack’s sermon was longer ; and, though the toll-keeper evidently grew impatient under it, the preacher would have made it still longer, had he not remembered the necessity there was to hasten young Jonathan to recommence the journey. Jack tapped at the door, and waited some minutes ; but the lover seemed deaf. Jack had to knock more and more loudly, and several times, before J onathan appeared. Gregory Markpence gave the young farmer a hearty shake of the hand; and away went Jack and his friend — the fiddler promising Gregory, as they parted, that he would call in and have more talk, on his return. Our minstrel accompanied his young friend to a neighbouring market-town, where Jonathan could get on one of the London coaches ; advised the youth to seek out a retired lodging in the metropolis, and to remain there until the way should become clear for a return. “ Take care of yourself in London, my dear lad,” said Jack, at parting, u for it’s a dreadful place, by all that I’ve heard. Write to me, and also to your father and Margery, so soon as you find a lodging. I think you had better send all your letters, under cover, to Margery’s father. You need be in no fear of him now, for he’s your friend; and Threap may put spies on the watch for any letters that arrive at your father’s or my house, by post. Be sure to write punctually.” “ I will, J ack. But you know I’m only a poor scholar.” “ Never mind that, my lad. You need not write any long scrawls to me. I can tell what you mean by a few words. Be 30 ALDERMAN RALPH. true to yourself, J onathan, and I’ll be true to you, and bring things round to your heart’s content — for I’ve set my mind to do it.” “ Blessings on ye, Jack Good-bye!” cried Jonathan, as the coach bowled off. Jack stood, and gave his friend a last wave of his hat, as the coach wheeled out of sight, and then hastened to retrace his steps to Willowacre, and the bridge toll-house. Jack found a companion, however, before he had reached Willowacre by a couple of miles. It was little Davy Drudge, who had been on some errand to a neighbouring village for his kind master. “ Why, Davy! is it thou, my boy?” cried Jack with hearty pleasure at having overtaken him ; “ well, really, how well thou look’st, and how pleased I am to see thee in thy smart clothes, and thy brave rows of buttons ! ” “Oh Jack! and I’m pleased to see you,” said the little fellow, seizing the fiddler’s hand ; “ my mother said she had seen you ; and I said I should like to see you, too — for it’s long since we had a bit o’ fun together, Jack.” “ It is, my boy,” said the fiddler laughing ; “ can you dance the Pig’s hornpipe still, Davy?” “ I could, if I had you to fiddle to me, Jack; but nobody plays the fiddle at Lovesoup House : though we’ve plenty o’ music, for all that.” “ And plenty o’ good cheer, I hope, Davy. But I’m sure you have : your looks bespeak it.” “ Plenty, plenty, J ack ! It’s a heaven of a place : we’ve every thing that heart can wish for.” “ Thank God for it, my bairn? I wish every poor faytherless bairn could say the same.” “ I’ve fallen on my feet, in alighting on such a good place, I’ll assure you Jack; and I hope I’m duly thankful for it,” said the intelligent and good little lad, with the tear of joy starting to his eyes. “ Well, I hope to see thee become a good man, if I live,” said ALDERMAN RALPH. 31 J ack, looking with heartfelt kindness and delight upon the lad. “ I hope I shall he one/’ rejoined Davy ; “ but I say, Jack, I’ll tell ye what I’m just thinking of” — “ What’s that, Davy my boy?” “ You see every body is so well used that’s about Lovesoup House, that I should like you to get in among us. Th’ old gardener was taken ill yesterday, and they say he’ll never mend. Missus — that’s Miss Pevensey, you know — says she’ll not hire another out and out, till she sees if he gets better; but she wants somebody to fill his place for the present. You may depend upon it, it’s a good place, Jack; and, if you once got into it, and th’ old man died, you would be safe to keep it.” “ I’faith it’s a good, kind thought o’ thine, Davy,” said the fiddler smiling, “ but I’m only a rough hand at gardening. I know too little about it to manage a fine garden for gentlefolks.” “ Plow you talk, J ack ! — you that can turn your hand to aught, and that folks call a ‘ J ack-of-all-trades ! ’ I’ll uphold ye, you’ll manage a vast deal better than our old Eli Grubroot — poor old fellow ! I’m sure you’d suit missus, J ack, if you only got the place. And I’m sure you will get it, if you ask for it ; for you’ve a head like an almanac, as my poor fayther used to say — and a tongue that would beat a parson ! ” J ack burst into laughter at th e old-fashioned little lad, and patted him fondly on the shoulder. “ Bless thy heart, Davy,” he said, “ I see thou art as like thy old-fashioned self as ever thou wast.” “ Why, if I’m old-fashioned I learnt a good deal at your pattern^ you know, Jack,” retorted Davy, laughing in his turn; “but I say, Jack, do come along with me and try to get the place — will ye? Nobody’s more bespeakable than missus; and master too — indeed he’s better still!” “ I shouldn’t fear speaking to ’em, Davy, in a respectful way ; but I tell thee, I’m not fit to be gardener to such fine gentle- folks. I know nothing about their stylish ways.” 32 ALDERMAN RALPH. “Stylish ways, Jack!” echoed Davy, rather tartly; “they’ve no stylish ways — if you mean pride and huffiness — I’d have you to know that. To be sure,” added the mindful lad, considerately, “ they are a little bit more stylish than common just now, while Sir Nigel, the great Parliament man, is so often coming to the house in his grand coach.” “ Does he visit your master and mistress ? ” asked Jack, eagerly ; “ is he friendly with ’em ? ” “ Lord love ye ! ” answered the little fellow proudly ; “ why, Mr. Pevensey and him’s like brothers. Bless your heart, they travelled abroad, all over foreign parts, together, years ago ! Sir Nigel’s dining at Lovesoup House to-day.” “ Will he be there when we get to Willowacre, think ye, Davy f ’ “ I’ll uphold him, he will. He’ll not go away till night ; and then he’ll be fetched in his grand coach,” answered the boy, proudly. “ You think a body might venture to speak to Mr. Pevensey, and you say he’s a good-hearted, kind sort of gentleman?” “ Only try him, aud you’ll find I’m right, J ack. I’m glad you’ve made your mind up to speak for the place.” “ Not exactly so, Davy; but I want some kind gentleman to speak to Sir Nigel, and ask a favour of him — a particular favour — for a friend of mine.” Jack was well acquainted with Davy’s prejudice against the toll-keeper, and so did not mention Gregory’s name to the lad. Our minstrel, the reader will perceive, had formed the daring resolve to speak to the baronet himself. He, plain J ack Jigg, the lowly fiddler of Meadowbeck, had conceived the bold idea of impersonating the ambassador of the monarch of the toll-gate to that monarch’s Lord Paramount ! “ Faint heart never won a fair lady, you know, Davy,” said J ack to the boy. “ I never spoke to a Parliament-man in my life ; but I’ll venture, if Mr. Pevensey can get leave to let me bespeak Sir Nigel.’’ “ And so you will not speak to Mr. Pevensey for to do your- self any good,” said Davy pettishly; “ but you’ll speak to him for somebody else ! That’s just like you, J ack. My poor fay ther ALDERMAN RALPH. 33 used to say you never knew on which side your bread was buttered. But never mind ! I find it’s of no use talking to ye. Here we are at the gate ! Come round this way with me to the garden back-gate; and I’ll ask the footman to go and ask Mr. Pevensey to see ye.” The shrewd, fine-hearted little fellow gave Jack into the custody of the footman, and immediately tripped off into the remote part of the flower-garden, where he expected to find his “ missus.” Jack was speedily favoured by the kindly presence of Gilbert Pevensey, who was in a moment interested in our min- strel, of whom he had often heard during the recent months, in which he had mingled so much with the people of Willowacre ; and impressed with Jack’s intelligent and independent, though respectful bearing, consented at once to be the bearer of Jack’s request to Sir Nigel Nickem. “ I have promised to prefer a petition to you,” said Gilbert, joining the baronet again, “ and it is on behalf of a poor fellow who is one of the notabilities of our region. It is no other than Jack Jigg the fiddler, who, you may recollect, was imprisoned for exercising his tuneful trade in the streets during the famous Bridge Biot. He wishes that you would allow him to speak to you.” “ Most likely he comes on begging business, and therefore I had better not see him ; for I declare, Gilbert, I am utterly out of cash.” “ Nothing of the kind! I have ascertained that. He wishes to say something to you on behalf of your tenant, the toll-keeper — something, he says, which the toll-keeper has not the courage to state to you for himself.” “ Indeed! what can he mean? I suppose I had better go and hear what he has to say.” “ Or, suppose we have him in here. They say this fiddler is quite a humourist in his way ; and really his manner is not that of an ordinary man. What say you, Nigel? Shall we have him in?” VOL. II. D 34 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ By all means let it be so,” answered tlie baronet; and accordingly our minstrel was soon ushered — or rather foot- manned — into the dining-room. J ack’s bow to the man of title was more polite than that of Threap, and was equally devoid of servility as of rudeness. His address to Sir Nigel Nickem might be described in the same terms; and Gilbert and his friend scanned the fiddler keenly, and exchanged a look of admiration, while it was being delivered. But the baronet’s look became angry, not at J ack, but at the matter of his speech, before it was ended. “ Please to withdraw for a few minutes,” he said; “ I’ll see you again when I have had a few words with Mr. Pevensey.” “ Gilbert,” the baronet continued, when Jack had left the room, “ I must discharge Threap. He is a thorough rascal. I have suspected him for some time ; but I am now convinced that he is utterly unworthy of trust. By his own persuasion, I consented to the renewal of the toll-keeper’s lease many months ago ; and he assured me, very soon after, that he had made it out and given it into the man’s hands.” u I disliked him from the first,” returned Gilbert ; “ but I did not like to tell you so.” “ You see this is downright trickery. He must have some bad purpose.” “ Perhaps a design to get money out of Markpence,” suggested Gilbert. “ I wish he may mean nothing worse — though that is bad enough. I would dismiss him to-morrow, only I must wait until” — and the baronet paused. “ Until what, Nigel'? Is there anything that I can do?” asked Pevensey, observing the uneasy look of his honoured and valued friend. “ I owe him two hundred pounds, Gilbert; and I have not” — “ But which you can have at once, if you will honour me by allowing me to lay it down for you.” “ Gilbert, I have already trespassed too far on your good- ALDERMAN RALPH. 35 nature. Yet I will accept your kind offer, for I am very desirous of freeing myself from the questionable services of this Meadow- beck lawyer.” “ Thank you, Nigel. Shall we call the poor fellow in again?” said Gilbert, anxious to relieve himself and his friend from a sense of embarrassment. The baronet assented; and Jack was resummoned to his presence, and received from him an assurance that the toll-keeper should have the lease on the morrow. “ And tell Markpence, if you please,” concluded Sir Nigel, “ that I desire he will immediately certify me when he has received the lease from Threap.” Jack bowed, thanked the great man for his very gracious behaviour, and was about to withdraw. “ Will you take a glass of wine, Jigg?” said Gilbert. “ Yery much obliged to ye, sir,” answered Jack; “ but it’s a kind of liquor which I’m told does not agree very well with poor folks’ stomachs, unless they are out of order. A hearty cup of ale would suit me better, sir, if it pleases you to allow me to drink your own and Sir Nigel’s health.” “ You really would prefer ale?” asked Pevensey. “ I would, sir,” answered Jack ; “ for our village doctor always tells us poor people, that wine is rather a medicine than a beverage. Those are his words, sir; and, as I am just come off a journey, I would prefer a good horn of ale — and, if I might take the liberty to say so, a bite of bread and cheese to it.” Gilbert and the baronet laughed ; and J ack was committed to the care of the footman, who was ordered to conduct him to the kitchen, and see him substantially provided for. On the way, however, he was met by Alice, and surprised by the young lady’s request, that he would come again to Lovesoup House the next day, and supply the place of the sick gardener. She assured him he should be well rewarded if he suited her, and immediately passed on to an inner-room. Jack was so completely taken at unawares, and the lady spoke so kindly, that he could not gather 36 ALDERMAN RALPH. courage enough to demur, and so said “ Thank ye, ma’am,” and made his very best bow. “ Have ye taken the place, Jack?” asked little Davy, eagerly, when his friend reached the kitchen. “ Ah, ye little rogue ! I thought it was you that had done it,” said Jack. “ But I hope you’ll come,” said the footman. u Why, I must, you know,” replied Jack; “ I could not say ‘ Hay’ — for it would have looked so ungrateful and bearish to have refused the lady when she spoke so prettily. And, besides, she seemed to take it for granted that I would come; and I could not be so rude as to call her back, and tell her she might take her kindness back and put it in her pocket.” The footman and three other servants who had gathered round were ready to laugh at every thing that J ack said ; and con- gratulated themselves on the fact, that they were about to have for an associate one whose reputation was so great for making mirth and promoting good-fellowship. Jack was regaled sub- stantially, and had some difficulty in obtaining leave to go. What gratification he infused into the stern breast of the toll- keeper, before crossing the bridge, may easily be imagined. And when Jack reached his own home, after a hasty call at the house of Farmer Jipps, just to assure the old man that he had seen Jonathan safely on the coach for London, Jack’s wife evinced no faint sense of satisfaction that he had accepted the offer of a situation which might become lifelong, and put an end to her husband’s unsettled and precarious way of earning their livelihood. BOOK VIII. terfaimng mates raljirl; mill raast llji Utetor sami sarpisi, antes ire to nf ijjr bmprararat rallrir < 'f 51 jbgmairr ; ’ anit snmi saliritato, mttes Ijis stjtir- patjjte to ICrfjjargtr. / ALDERMAN RALPH. 39 BOOK VIII. CHAPTER I. Which is the second of what some Readers may deem to belong to the super- fluous order, inasmuch as it is Non- historic. Why should a man seek to justify himself when nobody has been heard to find fault with him? I answer by a counter question : Why should a man wait to hear somebody find fault with him, instead of putting in his plea of justification before- hand, and so sealing up the lips of all possible fault-finders? If a man be strong in his integrity, observes the person who put the first question, he will not be thin-skinnedly over-anxious about his reputation. I answer by a counter observation : A man who conceives himself to be engaged in a profoundly im- portant service, and who is duly anxious to discharge it aright, will scarcely be able to avoid the fear that some will find fault with him. Which of these questions and observations most nearly resembles the wisdom of the wise, the reader must judge. In the mean- time, since I am ignorant of the reader’s judgment, I must follow my own, such as it is, for a guide. I am fearful of fault- finders; and cannot disguise it. I have a nervous, all-overish suspicion, that some of the critics will say I am not narrating this history according to the Hules of Art ; and I am anxious to show that the critics are mistaken. It is true I might boldly turn round on the critics and say, “ Gentlemen, if you knew 40 ALDERMAN RALPH. better than I liow to write this great history of Willowacre, why did you not prove yonr ability to the world, and so have enabled me to escape the labour ?” But, I fear the critics, nothing daunted, would reply that I was harping on an old string that jarred, and had become out of tune. There is no knowing what queer things the critics might say, if you spoke pertly to them ; and so I hasten, rather, to address them with my plea of justification. I suspect it will be said, that from the turn the story has taken in the course of the last book, the title of this work is likely to become a misnomer ; that the hero is no longer the hero ; that other characters have been permitted to usurp the prominence to which Mr. Alderman Balph is duly entitled, by the authors own showing; that having manifestly put that worthy dignitary into a mental condition which incapacitates him for action, I am guilty of a kind of homicide towards my chief actor; that — in short — I have shown myself utterly ignorant of the Buies of Art, have undertaken a business above my capacity, and shall, without doubt, break down with it, and never be able to bring the story to a proper end. Now, to suspect that such severities will be spoken or thought is enough, the reader must confess, to make one feel uneasy ; but I am not disposed to suffer extinguish- ment without a struggle. I contend, first, that it is by no means necessary for the hero of a story to appear in every division of it, or to preserve an in- variable prominence or conspicuousness among the various actors in it. And here I would appeal to the candour of every or any great living commander. In how many campaigns, may it please your honour, have you not been, wherein the blows and wounds, kicks and cuffs, were borne and received by others, and you won the stars and ribbons'? In how many fields were the movements made by your generals of division, and the blood shed by your subalterns and rank and file, while you gained the reputation of the victory 1 ? How often were you unwitting of the valour displayed by your sub-leaders and those they led, ALDERMAN RALPH. 41 until it was reported to your honour, and then you signalised your generosity by setting it down in your home-despatch, knowing that you would reap the reward of others’ bravery] Will not your honour bear me out in the assertion, that in order to win the reputation of a hero, and to wear it when won, it is often necessary to be out of the heat of the action] I trust to your honour’s candour to complete my justification against the critics, on this head. Secondly, heroes do not need to stand always in the sunshine in order to sustain their heroship. A cloud may somewhile hide them from public observance, and Fortune, beneath that obscuring mantle, be preparing to adorn them with new and brighter triumphs. She may even discipline them with reverses, to strengthen their power of self-command, and to sharpen their intelligence. She may suffer them to become the captives of misfortune and adversity, in order to display her own fertility of resource by freeing them through the means of some humbler agent. Who forgets that the mouse nibbled a hole in the net, and enabled the lion to break away from his entanglement, and again to lash his sides with his tail, shake his mane, roll his eyeballs, and roar, in majestic freedom] But the lion was not less a lion, though a captive one, while in the net ; and the mouse was no more than a mouse, either while it nibbled or when it had ceased to nibble. Now the critics may perhaps pounce upon that last and most original observation, and imagine they perceive more in it than meets the eye. They may even be ready to affirm, that the lion and mouse are typical of the worthy alderman and Jack Jigg the fiddler, and triumphantly laugh in my face and say that they have gained their end, for they have succeeded in making me betray my plot. Gentleman critics, is that your quality] Then, good-morning to you ! Take care that I don’t disappoint you! 42 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER II. Peter Weatherwake’s philosophy, and the effect upon his mind of Jerry Dimple’s news : May Silverton’s thinkings and employment. “ It is the very day : look where I made the mark ! ” said Jerry Dimple, showing his copy of Old Moore’s Almanac for the preceding year to ancient Peter; “ it is just a twelvemonth, this blessed night, since that ugly Markpence put his unlucky foot into this parlour for the first time, and all these troubles began.” “ And you made that black mark on that very night, did ye now, really?” asked Peter, taking his pipe out of his mouth, and gazing with wide-open eyes at honest Jerry. “ I did,” answered the landlord, solemnly ; “ for I, somehow or other, thought that something would happen.” “ Depend upon it, your making that mark was a sign that something would happen,” observed the old mariner; “ I should have said so at first, if you had showed me that mark before. There’s no accounting for these things, neighbour Dimple ; but, depend upon it, when any thing is impressed on a man’s mind in that mysterious way, it shows that something’s a-coming.” “ So my poor fayther always used to say,” rejoined Jerry; “ he declared he always had a warning when he was going to lose a cow or a pig.” “ Ay, and there’s many an honest sailor could tell ye,” said Peter, “ that he never was shipwrecked, but all the crew had a forewarning of it before the vessel went out of harbour.” “ Indeed!” said Jerry, “ then I should think they take the warning, and keep out of the trouble — at least sometimes.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 43 " Not much o’ that, neighbour Dimple,” said Peter; “ a sailor knows that what is to he, will he. A man’s just as safe at sea as upon the land ; and, if his time he come, he must go ; and if it isn’t, why — d’ye see? — he’ll stay. And that’s all that can he said about it” — and Peter fell to smoking earnestly, and fixed his eyes on the fire, in a way that showed J erry the old man would consider it profane for any one to scan his philosophy more curiously. So J erry changed the subject. “ You’ve heard of this young Parmer Jipps absconding from Meadowheck, I reckon,” he said, “ and what he has been about ? Don’t ye think, now, that it must have been this young fellow that was in the boat that night with the smuggled liquor?” Peter looked up in amazement, and desired his friend to ex- plain what was meant. And then Jerry, finding that the old man had not heard the news, went on to rehearse the report which had reached Willowacre from Meadowheck: how that Scroggs the sexton had found two kegs of liquor half-buried in the churchyard, together with a spade and a lanthorn, which, bearing the name of Jipps, led to young Jonathan’s discovery as either a thief or a smuggler; and that, before Lawyer Threap could get a warrant for his apprehension, young Jonathan had escaped ; and that every body in Meadowheck said, nobody could have thought it of such a harmless young man as Jonathan. “I didn’t know the young man you are speaking of, Jerry Dimple,” said the old harbour-master, when J erry had finished the report; “but I tell you again I am as sure that Lawyer Threap was the thief and smuggler that night, as I am that I am now sitting in this dear old parlour. But will you just tell me over again all about this young man? You know I’m not so quick as some folks at apprehending.” J erry Dimple rehearsed the report once more, and with greater distinctness. “ Thank ye, neighbour Dimple,” said Peter, taking hL meer- schaum in pieces and putting it into his pocket ; “ I must see old Will Scroggs about this. We were messmates in the Mediter- 44 ALDERMAN RALPH. ranean and the West Indies, many years ago. I imagine Will cannot have lost his weather eye yet ; but will be able to tell me which way the wind sits. There’s more in this than some folks think. Good-night, neighbour Dimple ! ” Artless Jerry was used to these sudden starts and departures of his ancient friend ; yet Peter’s impulsive way of going off on this night, left Jerry with an uneasy impression. More trouble, he thought, was a-brewing. He almost resolved to make a mark in his almanac again. Nay, he would not. Peter said that was sure to be a sign that something would happen : so he would not make the mark. But he wished that he had told Peter about the report from Meadowbeck on any other night than this unlucky ninth of November. Then Jerry took down his almanac for the last year, and looked hard at the black mark once more, and sighed deeply. “ What is to be, will be.” J erry had just recalled that axiom of his friend, and was about to try whether he could not penetrate the philosophy of it, when his wife appeared at the parlour-door with a bed-candle in her hand, and told him she had fastened the doors. “ Bless me ! ” exclaimed J erry, starting up, and seeing that the clock was on the stroke of twelve. It was just as well that he was disturbed before he had entered on Peter’s great problem ; for honest Jerry would have found it make sore work with his poor brains, if he had tried to solve it. “ What is to be, will be : ” a strange problem to be employing the heart and brain of one so young and fair, so pure and gentle, as sweet May 1 And yet her thoughts were fixed on it that very night. Her uncle’s frame had sunk so much during that day, that they had been compelled to take him very early to bed ; and his mind had become so much shaken, that he seemed but faintly to recognise those around him, not even excepting May herself. She could not sleep, save by short lapses into slumber, from sheer weariness; and anon her nerves would suddenly wake her with a start. Thrice, during the night, she stole out of her own room into her uncle’s, shading the light with her little hand, ALDERMAN RALPH. 4 5 and bending gently down towards her uncle’s face, to satisfy her- self that he breathed, and then stole softly back again. The third time she has closed her uncle’s bedroom door, and is turning to re-enter her own — “ What is that ? ” — she would have said or screamed, but could not. “ A spirit — a ghost 1 ?” It was a tall white something, and glided down the staircase in the way they say that ghosts glide. May is in her own room instantly, and has fastened her door, and dropped into a chair. Her heart ceased to flutter very soon, and she told herself it was all ima- gination : it was the effect of over-excitement. She would com- pose herself, and try to sleep, or she would be good for nothing on the morrow. But sweet May could sleep no more. The imagination, as she concluded it to be, about the ghost, passed almost out of her memory in the course of an hour. Then serious reflections occu- pied her. How little, she remembered, she had ever thought of life as a possible scene of trial and suffering, until within the past twelve months. She had read that others found life to be in reality “ a vale of tears,” and pitied them while she read it, but had no comprehension of what it meant — for none can have that without experience. And how was it — how could it be — her young heart asked — that all these troubles had fallen on them — but especially her uncle’s affliction? He could not be suffer- ing for his own errors, she thought. He had always been good to every body; and to her he had been all tenderness. Provi- dence must have afflicted him, however, for some wise end. Yes : it must be so. It’s wise ends would be accomplished. She could not think her uncle would die, now she was calmer. His afflic- tion was designed — and designed for some wise and beneficent- purpose ; and she would try to keep that in mind, and not give way to fears and fretful thoughts any more. Did May Silverton think of Gilbert Pevense}^ in those dim, wakeful hours? Yes; but it was with a subdued although deep- seated feeling. It was her uncle who was ever present to her thoughts ; and when Pevensey’s image arose, she reminded herself 46 ALDERMAN RALPH. that though it might he designed that they should be happy to- gether in the distant future, she must put that thought away now. No care for her own enjoyment, no selfish thoughts about her own happiness, must profanely mix themselves up with her devotion to duty. Her uncle — her uncle : she must care for him : he had been her only parent — for she had no recollection of any other; and how could she cast one thought towards happiness for herself, while he was in the depths of suffering'? Gilbert expressed strong wishes, in his little notes sent by Davy Drudge, that May would try to take some kind of relaxa- tion ; and it was very good of Gilbert, May said to herself, to feel so wishful about her health; but if he could really see and know her uncle’s condition, his good heart would tell him she was doing right. So May reasoned ; but it was not so clear that she reasoned unerringly. Be that as it might, Gilbert’s thoughts of May were less kind than May’s were of him. He began to think he had a right to feel offended. Scarcely a day passed but he wrote to May; yet May would sometimes let a week go over without writing to him. And when she did write, the note was so short, and it was nearly all about her uncle ! He could not disguise it from himself, that there was now little in May’s notes to give them the character of love-letters. Yet he loved his dear little girl : he chided himself for entertaining one hard thought of her, and would never harbour another — but they rose again and again, those hard thoughts, and contended with him for a tarriance. And Alice — May wished she would call, as she promised in an occasional note ; but sometimes she complained of indisposi- tion, and at other times of being kept at home by her brother’s entertainment of company. It did sometimes seem to May, that Alice’s notes were more formal than they used to be; but May’s great care for her uncle dulled her perceptions about many things, and she had no abiding thought of there being any change in Alice. Poor Edgar! May often glanced at his melancholy face, and ALDERMAN RALPH. 47 thought it very good of him to feel so pitiful towards her uncle, never suspecting for a moment that he had any other cause of sadness. He was always at home, now, in the evenings. Of course, since Alice is sometimes so unwell, and at other times so busy — May reasoned to herself — she cannot get time to walk with Edgar, anymore than she can to visit me. Well: they must be patient, as Gilbert and I are obliged to be. Yet it is very kind of Edgar to show such attention to my uncle. And, indeed, Edgar was now May’s best help in the long evenings. He was ever ready to assist in waiting on her uncle ; and endeavouring to relieve him by gentle talk — for the learned Dingyleaf was now often absent from Mr. Ralph’s parlour for several evenings together. Ah ! what was Dingyleaf about ? 48 ALBEBMAN RALPH. CHAPTER III. Which describes the way in which Friendly Relations were increased between the Baronet, Gilbert Pevensey, and his Sister. Foolish moth! Why wilt thou play around my candle, and not be warned by the singeing thou hadst yesternight? I, like a good providence, caught thee then, and put thee away in a distant corner — hoping thou wouldst have more discretion than to venture hither again. But I cannot catch thee to-night. Thou art grown shrewd, and imaginest, no doubt, that since thou canst play round my hand and escape my clutch, so thou canst giddily whirl and whirl round the candle, and never be caught ! Away ! It is too late ! Thou hast paid the penalty of thy over- confidence. Fair Alice! wilt thou be like the foolish moth? Sir Nigel Nickem was now daily at Lovesoup House, and usually the whole day — that is to say, from noon-day to “ noon-at night.” Gilbert was glad to see that his sister began to enjoy the visits of his honoured and valued friend. He had wondered that she did not enjoy them earlier. Their father had educated Alice and himself somewhat ambitiously, for a man who had made his own way in the world. Wealth he had left them; but since it lay chiefly in shipping and a large mercantile con- nection, Gilbert knew it must have his most earnest personal attention if he meant to preserve and increase it. He had there- fore, very sensibly, devoted himself to business with energy. Yet he could not help feeling that there was something vulgar- ising in its pursuit. He often returned home wearied and jaded by attention to petty and vexing details ; and disgusted with the unintellectual conversation and sordid passions of those with whom he was compelled to associate in bargain-making. To ALDERMAN RALPH. 49 know that, on liis return from the wharf and the counting-house, he would find Sir Nigel Nickem at Lovesoup House, was there- fore not only a relief, hut a high pleasure. Travel, literature, taste, formed subjects of enlivening conversation, and there were few who could discuss them more ]D]easantly and effectively than Sir Nigel Nickem. Those who, like Gilbert, had almost invari- ably seen the brighter side of the baronet’s character, could have little suspicion of the dark shades which disfigured it, when pre- sented as a whole to the observer. Gilbert’s sister beheld the baronet from a point of view which her brother had not reached. She had suffered by his perjured professions in the past ; time had not obliterated the memory of her sufferings; nor did she believe that it had changed Sir Nigel’s character. If she fell into his snare, she did it perversely, and with her eyes open. Sir Nigel did not renew his suit, in form, as a lover. That would have broken the snare at once, and he saw it. He sought to be in Alice’s company as much as possible; took care to let her see that he delighted in it ; but showed the most susceptible readiness to withdraw, if he were in the least degree unwelcome. A woman of Alice’s strong discernment could not fail to be sen- sible of Sir Nigel’s superiority as a well-educated and experienced man, when compared with Edgar Tichborne. To Edgar, she knew and felt that she had been a teacher, though she had skil- fully concealed from him that she knew it. In the presence of Sir Nigel she was but a scholar; and Alice was so completely a woman as to prefer that such should be her mental relation towards the man who might become her husband. She would have laughed to scorn any one who had told her that she longed to be called “My lady;” and she believed that she cared nothing for the baronet’s title; but there she really deceived herself. The title was a part of the snare which would have had little enticement had she continued to mingle with people of fashion and title; it was dangerous now she and her brother had settled down among the plain people of Willowacre. To be distinguished^ VOL. II. E 50 ALDERMAN RALPH. where a title would be a distinction indeed, was a thought that dazzled her, although she believed that she did not feel the effect of the glare. Sir Nigel had yielded to Gilbert’s entreaty, and had promised not to leave them till it should be time to go up and take his seat in Parliament. Alice had joined in this entreaty, or Sir Nigel would not have promised. The baronet congratulated himself greatly on receiving their joint request. He believed it would enable him to secure larger pecuniary assistance from Gilbert, as well as to pave the way surely, though it might be slowly, for a union with Alice. And he was now really desirous of making Alice his wife. He knew that she would grace the very highest conventional station; and he knew that her fortune would now be considerable. Besides, the advantage to be gained by a lasting union with the sister of Gilbert, whose interest was so weighty in old Willowacre, was, in the eyes of the new borough member, almost incalculably great. The marriage with Alice was. there- fore, a triumph he resolved to secure eventually : the loan of more money was a benefit he bent his mind on reaching more speedily. But there was less effort needed to secure that than he had imagined. Gilbert found him one day, apparently absorbed in troublous thought, resting his head on his hand, and with a number of bills of account spread on the table before him. Gilbert asked him some questions, to which he returned an unintelligible answer, and then sighed heavily. Shall I leave you, Nigel,” said Pevensey, touching him gently on the shoulder, “ or is there any thing that I can do to assist you?” The baronet looked at Pevensey and blushed. “ No, no, Gilbert,” he said, falteringly; “ I cannot impose on your good-nature further. I must — in fact — that is — I must hasten to town at once, and insist on having money.” “ That indeed you shall not, Nigel! You must not break your promise to ns to remain here till Parliament opens; and you know it will give me the highest gratification to accommodate you.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 51 “ N ay, I must go to town, and that to-morrow. I must indeed, Gilbert. These bills from the innkeepers must be dis- charged, or it may injure my electoral interest. The promised gratuities must also be dealt out to the poor voters. And these payments will require a heavy sum. I cannot think of your” — “ But I can think of it. Pray, what is this formidable sum, which you seem to imagine would be so ruinous to the little Willowacre shipowner and merchant?” u Nay, Gilbert, you do not charge me with intending to convey any insinuation of that kind?” “ Will you oblige me by naming the sum?” asked Gilbert, taking each of the baronet’s hands in his own, and looking with earnest kindness in his friend’s face. “ It will be two thousand pounds ; and I cannot permit you to” — “ Oblige me by accepting the loan of that sum — I entreat — I beg.” “ Beally, Gilbert, this is over-kindness. I will consent on one condition only : that you draw up on a stamp a bond for the entire sum that I shall then be in your debt, and I will sign it. And I will not accept this new loan till you do that.” “Well, well, agreed,” said Gilbert, laughing; “and now put away these paper bugbears, and let us join Alice in the garden till dinner be ready.” “ With most devout haste !” said the baronet; and to show that his uneasiness was gone, Gilbert’s friend invited him to a mock-race for " the lady’s bower.” The spendthrift’s mind was relieved ; for he had, once more, resolved to reform. To bind himself to honesty, he had insisted on giving his legal bond for what he owed to Gilbert. Sir Nigel shone like a converser of the first magnitude that evening ; and Alice again put off writing to Edgar Tichborne, in answer to his letter of complaint about her behaviour at the ball. Edgar and Alice had not met since that festive night, although several weeks had passed ! 52 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER IV. The grand Discovery: Dingyleaf and Plombline: the new Conspiracy of Hugh and Mr. Nicky. The grand discovery is made : Dingyleaf has found the origi- nal Bridge Deed! He could scarcely believe his own eyes. Through so many months the search had been in vain, that he had fallen into a desponding habit; so that his quest had gone on very slowly of late. Indeed it never went on quickly. His doating curious passion for antiquities caused him to waste days, in the outset, in merely poring upon parchments which, however minutely inspected, could not aid the great discovery. His strange love- dreams about May Silverton quickened him for a season ; but other dreams, and some realities, had latterly divided his mind; and he had plodded on through the last months, doubting that he should ever find the Deed, and tormented with a deeper doubt — what he should do with it, if he ever did find it. Dingyleaf had always called himself “ a scholar and a gentle- man.” The first title could not be denied him ; but, alas ! he had no real claim to the last. His memory had been most inor- dinately cultured : his heart not at all. u A man’s nature,” says Bacon, “ runs either to herbs or weeds ; therefore let him season- ably water the one, and destroy the other.” Dingyleaf had read that sentence — for what had he not read h — but it did not remain one moment in his memory; and he had never striven to sustain, with the least sprinkle of encouragement, Honour and Goodness in the garden of his heart, or to root out Pride and Selfishness. A vain-glorious desire to distinguish himself, first moved him to offer his services to the corporation of Willowacre. Had his ALDERMAN RALPH. 53 ill-regulated mind not fallen into temptations, he would eagerly have presented the Deed to his employers, the very moment that he found it. But that was the very last thing he was now inclined to do. When the flurry of discovery was over, he hastened to secrete the cumbrous parchment under his waistcoat, and feverishly awaited the coming of the town-clerk, to lock up the archives’ room for the night. He would have quitted the chamber at once, and left the mayor’s attendant on guard at the door; as he often did in the daytime. But the consciousness of guilt made him wait till evening, lest any suspicion should arise from the circumstance of his not being found at that time in the room. So over-careful is guilt ! “ Beady, doctor?” asked Mr. Pomponius pleasantly, presenting himself at the door of the chamber. Dingyleaf heard plainly enough : he had heard every footstep of Mr. Pratewell through the hall, and up the steps that led to the chamber. But how deaf he seemed — stone-deaf, with intense absorption in a parchment ! His visiter stood at the door and smiled, thinking the great scholar’s abstraction as real as ever ! a My good doctor,” he said, advancing, and gently laying his hand on the student’s shoulder. What a start Dingyleaf coun- terfeited, and how heartily Mr. Pomponius laughed! “ Beally, is it time?” asked the scholar, springing up, and seizing his hat and cloak. “ I wonder at you, doctor,” said Mr. Pratewell ; “ why, you seem as devoted as ever to your work.” “ Oh, of course — why, yes ! ” said Dingyleaf, eager to get away ; “ Good — good evening, sir” — and away he went ; for Mr. Prate- well did not seek to detain him, and regarded his sudden going- off as one of his characteristic eccentricities. Dingyleaf thought he had done it well. Having fastened the door of his own room at Alderman Balph’s, he took the parchment from its hiding-place, and spread it out on a table. Yes : it was there ! — it was the veritable 61 ALDERMAN RALPH. treasure — the “ talisman,” he had been searching for so long ! And now, what must he do with it? Ah, noble-hearted Ralph Trueman ! if you had known that that treasure was at that moment spread out in a chamber of your own house, and that the traitor you had so generously har- boured was planning to devote it to his own base enrichment — what would you have felt? But why did not Dingyleaf hasten to throw himself at the feet of Alderman Ralph, spread out the Deed before him, and claim the hand of sweet May as the rapturous guerdon of his labour? Pooh! He had awoke from that dream. He laughed at it now. Betty Brown had cured him of imaginary love. Money : yes, he meant to have it, and to a large amount too. He had dwelt on the wish to get gold by the discovery, till his expectations had become almost measureless. He could not absolutely fix on any sum even as the minimum of what he ought to expect. His reckoning flitted from hundreds to thou- sands, and not seldom to tens of thousands. But how to realise his expectations : that was the puzzle ! Dingyleaf ’s heart was worldly; but his head was inexperienced in the world’s ways, and it cost him some thought to fix on a plan for secretly putting up the Deed to auction. The best bidder must have it, he said to himself; but how shall I find him out? And then to conceal the fact, that I have the goods while I am pushing the sale, he thought : how careful I must be ! I shall have a deal of trouble to get through with it, he thought. But the poor wretch did not form even a shadow of a conception of the tortures he was preparing for himself. He placed the parchment in a box and locked it up ; but he sat on thorns while in the parlour below, and hurried up again into his own room, to assure himself that the treasure was safe. Next day, he dared not leave it behind him ; but stowed it away again beneath his waistcoat; and, much to his own annoyance, sat with it thus concealed, affecting to carry on the search in ALDERMAN RALPH. 55 the archives’ chamber. When the Sunday came, he indulged his eyes by spreading it before him on his large library table at Meadowbeck — locking the door even there — and glaring upon it. He had intended to leave it at Meadowbeck, safe under lock and key, and in his own house; but he could not reconcile his mind to the thought of leaving it behind him. And again he fastened it under his waistcoat, and rode off to Willowacre to pretend to carry on the search. That day, Hugh Plombline, who had never lost sight of Din- gyleaf or forgotten the scholar’s promise about the Deed, — and who, recently felt a discontent that the dulness of party spirit did not give him an opportunity for distinguishing himself, — stepped into the archives’ chamber, and very cordially saluted the great scholar. Dingyleaf resolved to commence operations * with his visiter. “ How much now — think ye — That is to say — what sum — when I find the Deed — shall I receive from the corporation?” he asked, hesitating, and fearful of awakening suspicion. “ Reckoning the price of your eggs before they are hatched, doctor!” replied Plombline, with a slight laugh; “ leave that to me. I’ll take care that you are handsomely rewarded — only give me the first information — or, rather, give the Deed into my hands.” “ Into your hands ! ” exclaimed Dingyleaf, in clanger of betray- ing himself. “ Well, I think that would be the best, doctor. But don’t be alarmed ! You don’t think I would run away with it, surely,” said Plombline, laughing; “I only want to have the advantage of giving the earliest information to the council, that I may be enabled effectually to serve you.” “ Thank you, thank you, sir,” said the scholar ; “ you are very kind, sir.” “ Don’t say so, doctor,” protested the scheming Hugh ; “ I assure you, I consider that it is but a duty to serve you ; and I will do so to the best of my power.” 56 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ I have been a long time — it lias cost me a deal of trouble.” “ And may cost you a deal more yet/’ interjected Plombline. “ Oil yes ! of course I meant that,” said the confused scholar, bustling up to lay hold of a fresh parchment, and conceal his trembling. “ And you ought to be well rewarded — and shall be well rewarded.” “ What figure, now? Could not you say what you think?” “ Upon my word!” declared Plombline, biting his lip to pre- vent himself from laughing outright, and in the face of the whimsical enthusiast, as he held Dingyleaf to be, “I do not know what to say to that. It is a question which requires great consideration, you know.” “ Then you would not be prepared to name a sum, to demand it for me, I mean — if I were to tell you that I had — that is, if to-morrow, or say next week, I were to find the Deed,” said Dingyleaf, turning red and white, and looking so odd that shrewd Hugh bent his brows keenly upon the great scholar, and did not answer for a few moments. The first thing to be done, doctor,” he said, at length, “ is for you to announce your discovery when it is made. That is your duty, you know.” “ Oh yes! oh yes! to be sure. You don’t think I would conceal it, do you?” exclaimed Dingyleaf, looking more confused than ever. “ I hope you have no such thought, doctor,” replied Plombline ; “ and, if any one has been advising you to do so, he is an evil counsellor, depend upon it. It would bring you into great trouble to follow such advice. If you were convicted of such an act, you would be ruined : I should say you would be sure to be tran- sported for life.” “ Sir, what do you mean by insulting me with such a sup- position?” cried Dingyleaf, summoning all his resolution, and glaring savagely and malignantly at his visiter. ALDERMAN RALPH. 57 , “ Oh, I beg your pardon, doctor ! ” returned Hugh, quickly, conscious that, if he broke with the great scholar, he would defeat his own purposes ; “ do not, I pray you, regard what I said in that light. I know you are profoundly learned; but, my dear sir,” and here Hugh smiled winningly, and advanced to take Dingyleaf’s hand, “you are inexperienced in the ways of the world ; and I feared from a few expressions you used, but I might mistake you, that some crafty and crooked adviser had been giving you a certain kind of advice, just to enable him to make use of you for his own ends. I think you know who I mean, doctor ?” “ I shall not take Threap’s advice,” said Dingy leaf, stealing a march in deceit upon the deceitful Hugh. “ That’s right, doctor. You speak like yourself. Disabuse your honourable and intelligent mind of every perverse idea he would endeavour to sow in it. You know what lawyers are, and what he is. But I need say no more on that head. I can only repeat, my dear doctor, that you will find a true friend in me. Only fulfil your promise, and give me the first information of the discovery, whenever you have the happy fortune to make it, and I will represent your claims to the corporation in such a light that they shall feel bound to adjudge you a worthy reward. You know Threap cannot bring your case before the corporation. I can ; and I will do my best for you, doctor.” “Thank ye, thank ye! But you couldn’t now say how much,” returned Dingyleaf, clumsily and pertinaciously clinging to his strongest idea — the gold-making, “You couldn’t name a figure, could ye?” “Well, I’ll think of it, doctor, and tell you in a few days,” answered Plombline, desirous of getting away from the scholar, seeing that he was in such an unpleasant vein. “When? How long first?” asked Dingyleaf, eagerly. “ Why, I don’t know exactly. Say, before the week be out. And so, good-morning, doctor!” and Hugh shook hands very fervently with the scholar, and hurried down-stairs. He believed 58 ALDERMAN RALPH. that- Dingyleaf would have forgotten the promise about the “ figure” by the time that they should meet again; but resolved to keep a watch upon Threap. Hugh had enabled the scholar to deceive him, by throwing out hints against a bad counsellor, which Dingyleaf knew, well enough, were levelled at the lawyer. Plombline had not the slightest suspicion that Dingyleaf had actually made the discovery. Hugh bethought him to look in upon his old confrere in plot, Nicky Backstitch — now, no longer the mayor Nicky — and to give Nicky a hint of what he considered Dingyleaf had confessed relative bo the evil counsel tendered by Threap; at least, if he should find Nicky disposed to discontent, like himself, with the existing lull of party dissensions, and disposed to join in a little new mischief. Hugh could not have called at a more promising season. Nicholas was brimful of the news, that his successor in the chief magistracy of the borough, the Worshipful Diggory Cleavewell, was going about among the members of the corpora- tion, and declaring that it was high time Sir Nigel Nickem should be asked to fulfil his promises relative to the bridge. “ How still he was about it, until the baronet’s subscriptions to the various improvements were paid up!” remarked little Nicky, with a sneer; “and now he affects to have been all along indignant and impatient about it.” “ Well, I can assure you,” said Plombline, “ that he has been impatient about it for some time. He was for following up the baronet without letting Sir Nigel take breath, when the sub- scriptions were paid. Pratewell had some difficulty in muzzling him, and getting him out of Sir Nigel’s room at the Bed Lion.” “ Ah ! I remember observing something strange in his behaviour at that time,” rejoined Mr. Nicholas; “but I did not know what it meant. Well, he’s quite bull-headed about it now, I assure ye. He was here not an hour ago, and assured me he meant to stir us all up.” “And did you accord with him?” asked Hugh, meeting the ALDERMAN RALPH. 59 retiring eye of Backstitch with a look that meant, “ I shall trust you with something, if you’ll trust me.” “ Well, you know, I couldn’t exactly refuse, under my peculiar circumstances.” “ I understand you. And I wish you could free yourself from your obligation to him.” Little Nicholas very feelingly shrugged up his shoulders. “ Neighbour Backstitch,” said Hugh, placing his thumbs in his waistcoat arm-holes, fixing his elbows to his sides, and looking most cunningly and impressively at the needy master-tailor, “ is it not possible, think you, that you might be relieved of that burthen by the help of a certain honourable person, — if — if we could render him a service?” “ God knows, it would rejoice my heart, if that could be done !” answered poor little Nicky with thorough earnestness. “ Let us think about it,” said Plombline ; “ in the first place, I suppose you did not express yourself very strongly to Cleavewell ? ” “ I gave a sort of general assent to his proposal,” answered Backstitch. “ That would not prevent you from seconding a motion to the effect, that we act with due caution in the matter, and with due respect to the baronet — whose liberality, munificent as it is in supporting the borough improvements, demands our gratitude.” “ It would not ; and I should be proud and happy to second such a motion.” “ Good. Or, I will second it, and you shall move it if you will ; for that would place you more prominently in the baronet’s view, and prepare the way for securing you some claim on his generous consideration.” “ You are really kind, neighbour Plombline. I feel it very kind of you. I do, indeed.” “ Now that the big man is no longer at his elbow,” continued Plombline, with a malignant look, “ Cleavewell is not likely to show much resolution in urging his proposition.” “ He is not,” assented Mr. Nicholas; “and I hear — one 60 ALDERMAN RALPH. cannot help pitying the poor old man, you know ! — that Trueman is not likely to recover.” “ I believe we may consider him in the light of a buried man,” said Plombline, with an air that really expressed triumph, though it was meant for a sort of generous pity; “ I understand he hardly knows his own niece now. But, to return to what we were talking of : I think we should not have much difficulty in carrying our point with the council.” “ I think not : I hope not,” said Backstitch ; “ I can only say, with all my heart, that I am ready to do my best. But, let me clearly understand you. Would you merely have us propose that we delay a little in addressing Sir Nigel on such a subject, or how'?” “ We must be determined by the spirit and temper with which the council receives the new mayor’s rough hint — for a rough one it is sure to be” — and the two friends chuckled in ridicule of Mr. Nicky’s successors : — “ if they show a somewhat ready disposition to go the length he would have them, and will not consent to waive the question altogether for the present — why, then, we must propose that the business of negotiation with Sir Nigel be entrusted to a select committee, and we must be resolved on carrying that, too.” “ Why not the archives’ committee, and propose that Alderman Balph’s place upon it be now filled up?” suggested Mr. Nicky. “ Good : and I have a man in my eye that might be proposed to fill it up,” rejoined Hugh ; “ our object must then be to make the easiest terms possible for the baronet — you understand?” “ To be sure; and a very proper object, too. The corporation is not poor; and, I think, ought to bear its part in restoring the bridge, and making it free — if that can be done. It would be a most shameful imposition on Sir Nigel’s good-nature to let him, not only bear the whole cost of restoration, but forfeit his property by making the bridge toll-free. As for the discovery of the Deed, I think it is time that dream should be given up, and Dr. Dingy leaf sent home to his books.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 61 “ I doubt it would create so much alarm if we were to propose that, as to prevent us from doing the best we can for the baronet.” “ Well, perhaps it might. Better, perhaps, say nothing about the doctor. He is perfectly harmless where he is. He’ll never find any Heed. I believe it was only a dream of the Trueman family that such a document existed.” “We can’t be sure of that. You know Threap to be a shrewd file?” “ And a shrewd rogue. I’m glad Sir Nigel has found him out, and given him his mittimus.” “ So am I. But you wouldn’t think it was only a dream of the Trueman family, if Threap regarded the existence of the Heed as a fact?” “ Threap ! why, he always laughed at it.” “ I know that. But if I tell you a secret you’ll keep it — a secret of the utmost importance ? ” Mr. Nicholas pledged himself solemnly. “ Threap has been persuading Hingyleaf to conceal the Heed, if he finds it ; and not to give it up before the corporation give him a great sum. I’ve wormed that out of the scholar this very day.” Mr. Nicholas burst out into vehement denunciations of all double-dealers and deceivers, rogues and tricksters, and declared his conviction to be, that Threap was the falsest wretch in existence. “ But of course,” he concluded, “ we have our remedy. The doctor has only to state this before the corporation, and we can firk Lawyer Threap.” “ But, the doctor might deny it,” said Plombline ; “ and as he did not voluntarily confess it — nor make a direct statement to that effect — but only dropped words which implied it, when I pressed him — you know I could not charge the doctor with having made a direct statement relative to Threap.” “ That alters the case,” granted Mr. Nicky : “ what can be 62 ALDERMAN RALPH. Threap’s purpose, think ye, in giving this counsel to the doctor? Is he merely playing upon Dingyleaf, and trying to urge the scholar to make an ass of himself?” “ No, no ! Threap would not spend his breath, much more his dinners, on the mere accomplishment of a joke. Dingyleaf dines and drinks with the lawyer almost every Sunday.” “ Indeed!” exclaimed Mr. Nicholas, looking and feeling both alarmed and interested ; “ he has some devilish scheme in his head, then.” “ And believes the Deed to be in existence” — “ No doubt of it. I think so, now ” — “ And means to get the Deed into his own hands, and to make his own bargain with it, either to spite the baronet or to pillage the corporation — or both,” said Hugh Plombline, leaning over the counter, and speaking in a strong whisper with his eager face close to Mr. Nicky’s. “ Fore God ! ” exclaimed Backstitch, starting back, “ I believe you are right. The villain means no less ; I feel sure of it !” “ Now you see he must be watched, don’t ye?” “ I do, indeed; and pretty closely, too.” “ But don’t you think, if we could persuade the doctor to regard us as his best friends, and give him a promise to secure him such a sum as he expects from the corporation, we could get him out of Threap’s hands?” “We might try it. But how should we succeed with the corporation? — Oh, I see!” exclaimed Nicky, marking the expres- sion of Hugh’s face, “ we are merely to make use of that as a trap.” “You understand me? Think it well over; but be sure to keep it close. Bemember whom we have to work against. I’ll look in again, soon. Good-morning!” They grasped hands fervently. ALDERMAN RALPH. 63 CHAPTEK Y. The Lawyer returns “like the Dog to his Vomit, and like the Sow to her Wallowing in the Mire:” the Conversation of Peter Weatherwake and Will Scroggs the Sexton. Gentle reader, didst thou ever, when out of church, consider what a fatality there is in wrong-doing? How much more easily we yield to do wrong a second time, when we have yielded once ; how very difficult it is to break it off, when we have suffered it to grow into a habit ; how, when we think we have escaped from our slavery to sin, we are so easily taken captive by it again; how every thing around us seems to grow into a new and deadly influence, compelling us still to go wrong; and how it seems to be in vain that we either strive to escape from the consequences of our first errors, or to refrain from committing more? In such a case we are morally and inevitably ruined, unless the Lord Will-be-will arises to take the captaincy of the mind. Honest John Bunyan will tell thee some notable things which that cap- tain did in the town of Mansoul, if thou art wise enough to read thinkingly what the giddy world calls a dull book — honest J ohn’s “ History of the Ploly War.” But if, instead of rallying under that captain’s standard, we parley with temptation, listen to appetite, and hesitate till our power of resistance is weakened, again we fall ; and the time may come when we are mentally and morally degraded so far as never to be able to resist again, or to feel even a desire to do it. Strong Geneva doctrine : but true ! Twice had Threap broken off his smuggling trade; and the last time he had emptied his vault, buried his contraband kegs, and placed himself in such prospective safety, that he had a fair 64 ALDERMAN RALPH. field for reform. Had lie never resumed his mean traffic, he seemed likely to become a better man, since he would have less temptation to lie and shuffle and conceal. The money he had received from the baronet was considerable, and might have been turned to good account by fair trade. He had not been abso- lutely discharged by Sir Nigel Nickem, though it was publicly rumoured that he had : there were reasons why the baronet dare not discharge him ; and yet the baronet had dealt coldly with him of late. And Threap urged this coldness of his grand client as a plea, against his better and sounder reason, why he should resume his old disreputable excitement. Since there might be little gained from his client in future, he reasoned that he must make as much as he could of what he had already gained ; and money was made quickly by smuggling, although the risk was great. And, besides, who had such conveniences for the business as himself? and who understood it better, or had a more safe and extensive connection? He was just as likely to escape in future, as he had already, and so long escaped. Yet he would not have returned to the dirty business — he assured himself he would not if the baronet had not repulsed him. And Threap really believed his own assurance : such was the consequence of his indulgence in error — it had partially blinded him. Yet he would as surely have resumed the contraband business if he had retained the full favour and confidence of his great client, as he resumed it now he knew that favour and con- fidence to be all but lost. It was the fatality of his old errors, and the resuscitated strength of bad habits not the change of fortune, which again overthrew his better resolutions: better, though so weak. And since Threap had now less business employ of a reputable nature, and Idleness is the parent of Yice, Threap dwelt upon his old lawless passion for the toll-keeper’s daughter, till it in- flamed him with almost maddening desire. He beset the poor oirl with every temptation he could think of, whenever he could find her away from her home; and even ventured again and ALDERMAN RALPH. 65 again into lier father’s house, and repeated his hypocritical pre- tences that he wished to marry her. Margery gave him no encouragement, and Gregory repulsed him with threatenings. Yet his impudent perseverance made the girl and her father miserable, until Jack Jigg’s zeal and presence of mind came to the rescue. Jack learned that one of the maids at Lovesoup House was about to leave service in order to be wed ; and it imme- diately occurred to Jack, that Margery would not only be safe from the persecutions of Threap if she entered the Pevensey establishment, but that she would be also delivered from her father’s harsh temper. Hay, honest Jack thought there was even a higher consideration than either of these ; and he might be excused for thinking so — “ ’Od rabbet the young hussy ! ” he said to himself, while handling the spade in his new profession of gardener, “ I shall have her a good deal under my own eye if she be fixed at the house here, and shall be able to give a faithful account of her to Jonathan, poor lad! I must bring it about, by hook or by crook. Miss Pevensey will be at this end of the garden soon, to look how I have set out the new shrubs. I’ll put every thing into apple-pie order, that she may be pleased ; and then I’ll tackle her about giving the place to Margery, at once. There’s nothing like taking things in time.” J ack sued, and succeeded. Gregory, at first, was loath to part with his daughter; but yielded to Jack’s arguments. Margery was glad to change her home for one where there was no pinch- ing or severity; and found her happiness greatly increased by being freed from the vile solicitations of Threap, and by being surrounded with cheerful companions. It was not long before the lawyer discovered that J ack was the prime agent both in securing Gregory’s lease and in removing Margery out of his evil reach ; and he vowed bitter vengeance against the fiddler. He even contemplated the possibility of slily putting Jack out of the book of life; but reflected that he could not securely do that, now Jigg and his family were removed VOL. II. F 66 ALDERMAN RALPH. from his own neighbourhood. There were many mean agents now, however, whom he had won to his interest in old Willow- acre during the elections ; and he began to plot how to ruin Jack by their instrumentality. He fixed, at length, upon Nykin Noddlepate, the wooden-legged fiddler, both because he knew the deadly hatred of that worthy to poor Jack, and was well aware that the fellow was utterly regardless of any thing like principle. Nykin had been for a long time unseen; but had gradually crawled forth to light again, during the changes that had come to pass in the ancient borough. Threap sought out the abode of this lesser reptile, and, combining his own more full- grown snakish powers with Nykin’s, strove to construct a snare for bringing poor Jack to destruction. But the evil pair were somewhat tardy in completing their scheme, and essaying to put it into execution. In the meantime, danger was arising for wicked Threap from a quarter where he did not expect it. Old Peter Weatherwake took the advantage of a fine frosty day to walk over to Meadow- beck; and encountered Will Scroggs the sexton, busily employed in his vocation of gravedigger, in the churchyard. Peter took it for a sign of good-luck that he met his man at once, and just in the retired spot where he had wished to find old Will. “ Will Scroggs, a-hoy!” cried ancient Peter, in a hearty tone, and coming suddenly upon his old fellow-voyager, who was up to the shoulders in the earth. “ What cheer, what cheer, Peter?” returned old Will, stretch- ing out a hand to the other eagerly and joyously, “Lord bless me, why, I haven’t caught a sight o’ your jib this twelvemonth! Nay, somebody said I should never see ye any more, for your timbers were giving way, and you would never get out o’ port again ! ” “ Avast heaving there!” answered Peter; “ I’m not quite sea- worthy, d’ye see, brother? but I’m serviceable in smooth water yet. Take a quid, messmate?” concluded Peter, handing Will his tobacco-box. ALDERMAN RALPH. 67 " Thank ye, brother!” said Will, and helped himself to a piece of pigtail — for Peter carried that homely description of the Ni- cotian weed at one end of his box, and cut Virginia, for smoking, at the other. “ Why, you look well,” observed Peter; “the churchyard seems to agree with you.” “ You’re thinking it’ll feel quite nattaral, like, when I have to get into my last berth here,” said Will; and the old men laughed jollily. “ Well, I’m heartily glad to see you though, Peter ! Give us a shake o’ your old fist again ! ” said the sexton. “ Have ye much more to do at this job?” asked Peter ; “ can’t we have a glass together, somewhere?” “ I’ll be done in a few minutes,” answered Will, resuming his spade earnestly; “ I needn’t stay to make a very particular finish. This hole is only for poor old Will Thompson, the blind pauper; and Threap, the overseer, will never trouble himself to see how the poor old fellow’s long home is finished. Indeed, I don’t think Will would care any thing about it himself — so long as he can lie here quietly, and be at rest from his aches and pains. He’d a sore time on it, I may say, these twenty years, with the rheumatiz.” “ I’m troubled with ’em myself a good deal in damp weather,” observed Peter; “ but I’ve heard say that blind Will was a great sufferer. He was a good-hearted patient soul though, they say. At least, I’ve heard as much.” “ Lord bless ye!” rejoined the sexton, “ it was amazing to see him sit twisting about, and the sweat running down his poor blind face wi’ pain ; and yet to hear what good words he would say all the time. I respected him much. And, by’r leave, Peter, I’ll get ye to wait a bit till I make his grave neat and snug.” “ Do,” entreated the harbour-master; “ I always think that the last thing we can do for a deserving fellow-creature should be well done.” 68 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ Right, my hearty!” accorded the other; “ I wished to oblige ye; but it would have come back upon my conscience, if I had made but a shabby berth for poor blind Will.” “ Right again, brother!” said old Peter weightily; “ keep the reckoning right within. We’re getting near our last port, you know; and we ought to have all cast up straight and ready, when the rudder is unshipped, and the voyage is at an end. God help us to do so, brother!” “ Amen ! ” said the gravedigger, “ and I say it with more feeling than I say it in church when our parson hiccups over the prayers. Well! there’s as pretty a berth as a man need wish to lie down in for the last time,” concluded the sexton, clapping and smoothing the sides of the grave with a broader shovel, so soon as he had climbed out of it; “ and so, now, let us go and wet our whistles at the Jolly Dobbin!” On the homely long- settle in the little village alehouse, the two old tars passed a couple of hours undisturbed, and as privately as they wished; for it was too early in the day for village company to assemble, the aged landlord in the fireside corner was deaf, and Dolly and the landlady were busy in the kitchen. Peter’s characteristic wariness led him to approach the secret he wished to fathom very slowly; but when they had filled their pipes a third time, and were deep in the second pint of rare home-brewed, they seemed to come upon the fact of the kegs having been found in the churchyard by agreement : inso- much that the sexton turned round sharply, and looking searchingly at Peter, said — “ I say, is that it ? Looking out for squalls, — made you come over here this morning?” “ Won’t deny that that was in part the reason; but I wanted to see you, Will. You know I have not seen ye a long time,” answered Peter, with his accustomed caution ; “ talking of that there,” he continued, “ what a fool, I’m thinking, must this young Farmer Jipps have been, to have left the lan thorn in the ALDERMAN RALPH. 69 churchyard; and the spade with his name on it, above all things. Don’t ye think so, messmate 1 ?” Will Scroggs nodded, blew a darkening cloud, and looked hard in Peter’s face; but did not speak. Peter thought there was something in the wind to a certainty, by that look of Will’s. But how to get at it? “ Come, messmate, empty the can,” he said to Will, “ and let us have another pint!” — and Will emptied the can, but only nodded again before he did it. “ The kegs were only partly buried, I think I understood ye to say?” resumed the old harbour-master, when the third pint was brought. Will nodded. “ Why, now, in my simple judgment,” continued Peter, “that looks as if this young farmer had been drunk when he set about covering up the kegs, and could not finish his job, or remember his tools.” “ Drunk! no, no: not he. He wasn’t drunk. Bun away — frightened — feared o’ being found out — that’s been it, no doubt,” interrupted the other, very suddenly. “ You think so?” said Peter, marking the flush of his old friend’s face; “ and you think he was not drunk?” “ I tell ye, it wasn’t the young farmer that vras drunk,” answered the sexton, winking at Peter, as he set his lips to the fresh tankard, after blowing off the foam. What could that wink mean? thought Peter; and, in his mingled simplicity and shrewdness, the old man w r ondered how he must shape sail so as to get upon Will’s tack. He took the can at the sexton’s hand, and held it before him very thoughtfully a few moments, and in silence. Will marked Peter’s behaviour, and saw clearly that his old friend was eager to learn all that could be learned about this remarkable affair. Will really wished to have his friend’s opinion upon it, and meant to reveal all he knew ; but, old-sailor like, he considered it most consonant with the rules and art of conversation, that his part of the secret hould be drawn out of him with almost as much difficulty, and 70 ALDERMAN RALPH. with as great a display of questioning skill, as if his life had depended on keeping the secret intact. “ Capita] ale, messmate ! ” he quietly observed ; " hut you don’t drink.” “ Your health again!” said Peter, and merely sipped — for it was the secret, and not the ale, that he desired. “ You took the kegs, and the other things, to Lawyer Threap as soon as you found ’em, I suppose?” Peter ventured again. “ They are at the lawyer’s,” answered Scroggs, after a slight hesitation ; “ he ordered me to take them to him.” Peter thought the answer queer, but he knew not how to double another question upon it. “ Tell me now,” he said, turning with a look of entreaty upon his companion, “ what you really think, now, of this affair. Upon your conscience now, Will, d’ye believe that this young farmer had those kegs of the smugglers?” “ No more than I believe it runs rum at the bottom o’ the Mediterranean,” answered Will quickly, and putting his face closer to Peter’s, with a most significant look. “ But you think he had ’em from somebody that lived nearer home?” blurted out Peter. “ As sure as God made little fishes ! ” returned Scroggs in the same quick way — and then laid down his pipe, folded his arms, and looked at Peter with such a fulness of meaning, that the old har- bour-master’s stout heart beat quick with expectation. They clasped hands by spontaneous accord, and looked into each others’ eyes. “ Brother Weatherwake, there’s a something that’s not right in all this,” began the sexton ; “ and I observe you have some notion of how the wrong has been done. But I’m a-going to tell you something that’ll surprise you — for I’m sure I may safely tell it to you” — “ I’ll let it go no further,” said Peter. “ You asked me if I took the kegs to Lawyer Threap’s as soon as I found ’em. No, I didn’t. I found him before I found them — and we both together found ’em.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 71 * “ What the devil d’ye mean ! — the Lord forgive me, I’ve not sworn once these many years ! — but you make me feel I don’t know how. What d’ye mean, Will?” “ I mean what I say. But listen to me now, quietly; and I’ll tell ye every particular ! ” And Will Scroggs amazed ancient Peter by giving the strict narrative of his discovery of Threap, drunk and in his ball-dress, lying on the half-filled hole in the churchyard ; described his whole behaviour afterwards ; and finally related what passed when the father of Jonathan Jipps was sent for by the lawyer. “ But what the lawyer said to old Farmer Jipps, you know, Peter,” continued the sexton, “ I have no positive knowledge of. You, perhaps, can guess. Now tell me your thoughts, and I’ll tell you mine.” “ They went into a private room, you say?” “Yes; and they talked low. I couldn’t hear a word they said : only the sound o’ something. But I couldn’t tell what it was they said. It was not five minutes before the law} T er came back, and told me he didn’t want me any longer, and charged me again to keep the thing close — you’ll mind that, Peter?” “ I’ll let it go no further” — “ It wasn’t more than an hour after, that young Jonathan Jipps and Jack the fiddler were seen making their way sharply out o’ Meadowbeck — the fiddler carrying Jonathan’s bundle” — “ What, Jack Jigg?” “ Jack Jigg. Young Jonathan and he were always great cronies. Now, the lawyer might have stopped him, if he’d wished to do it. Yet he has set this tale afloat, that the young farmer ran away to escape being took up for a thief and a smug- gler! How’s that, messmate? D’ye see through it?” “I don’t. It — it beats me!” said Peter, shaking his puzzled head. “ I think it was made up between the old farmer and the lawyer for a blind. The old man takes on sorely about his son going off; but he throws out queer hints of foul play, they say ; 72 ALDERMAN RALPH. and that strengthens me in my way o’ thinking,” declared the sexton. “ Will, we’re old shipmates, and we can trust one another. You said Jack Jigg went a-gait’ards with the young fellow. Now, have ye any particular notions about the fiddler?” “ I’ll tell ye one thing, which I had nearly forgot. I observed the fiddler’s wife come into the churchyard that day, after we found the kegs, and go into the corner where the hole was, and look at it, and then hurry away again; and I believe she saw that I twigged her too, as I peeped out o’ the church porch.” Peter whistled and winked at Will wondrously. “You think that Jack went shares with the young farmer, let them have got this liquor where they might?” “Not a doubt of it!” returned Peter; “ and furthermore, now I know that the fiddler is not to be trusted;” and then he went on to relate how he had enlisted Jack to watch Threap’s pre- mises, and how he believed Jack had found out Threap’s hiding- place, and, instead of informing against Threap, had turned thief, and drawn Jonathan into the scheme with him. “Why, confound him, he’s a saucy jackanapes !” observed the sexton ; “ I’ve borne a deal of impudence from him myself. But as for young Jonathan Jipps, a more innocenter lad was never born. I can’t think that he meant any harm.” “ Most likely you’re right. I’ve heard the same o’ the young man. But, depend upon it, this fiddler’s no better than he should be, and has been bribed by the lawyer to keep dark in the mat- ter. I did not like to trust him; nor should I have done so, if Jerry Dimple had not vouched for his honesty. Now, Will, don’t suppose an old shipmate would lead you into haim. I know you must take care, and not offend Threap, or you’ll lose your place. But you can keep a sly look-out upon his premises, and let me know if you twig aught that looks suspicious. I’ve a strong persuasion that he carries on this dirty trade still. And, moreover, he’s a bad, wicked wretch” — ALDERMAN RALPH. 73 “ All the poor o’ Meadowbeck curse him atween their teeth — and they’ve cause, too,” said Scroggs. “And all his iniquity will come home by him, messmate, as sure as you and I are sitting here,” asseverated old Peter; “ long goes the broken bucket over the ship’s side, but it will slip into the sea at last, you know.” “ That’s as true as the gospel, though I’m clerk and sexton o’ the parish that says it,” assented Will. " Well, here’s my hand, Peter. I’ll keep my weather eye open. You understand? I need say no more. And this is strictly between ourselves?” “ It shall go no further,” said Peter, solemnly. “ There doesn’t need another word about it,” said Will Scroggs. “ Not one word,” declared Peter Weather wake. " Let us have another pint for the sake of old times,” proposed Will. “ Just one more pint,” assented Peter, “ and then not a drop more — for you know I have to walk home.” “ We’ll have another pipe, too?” “ Oh! as many as ye like — that’s no odds!” said the seasoned harbour-master. 74 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER VI. Shows how all Willowacre, Gilbert, and Sir Nigel, were willing that a certain event should be brought about; and how Alice halted between two Opinions : May’s continuance in the path of Duty. To every faint show of wishing to depart and take his seat in Par- liament, whenever it was given by the baronet, Gilbert Pevensey opposed a stout demurrer. The session commenced, and the great crisis came for the Iron Duke; but Gilbert urged that the crisis would so surely be determined against the Duke, that Sir Nigel might make himself easy about it. The Grey and Brougham ministry was formed, the Houses broke up, and, as they were not to assemble again before the beginning of February, Gilbert said his friend could not refuse now to stay over Christmas with them ; and the rooms might as well be given up at the Bed Lion, for Lovesoup House was large enough to accommodate two or three families, if need were. Sir Nigel yielded, and was thenceforth a constant inmate of Pevensey’s dwelling. Whispers were soon circulated in Willowacre, that it was certainly to be a match between Sir Nigel and Miss Pevensey. Did not the young lady share the baronet’s carriage almost daily, or, at least, whenever he drove out? Did he not pay her the most demonstrative attentions at church, or wherever they were seen together ? What else could he be staying for, at Lovesoup House, so long? Miss Pevensey would certainly be Lady Nickem. Nobody could doubt it ; and every body was glad of it. The lady and her brother were known, and proven to be very good sort of people ; and the baronet was not a bad sort of man, after all that had been said against him. He had rewarded the poor voters liberally, he had paid every innkeeper’s bill ; and look ALDERMAN RALPH. 75 how nobly he had subscribed to the borough improvements, and paid up his subscriptions, too ! True, there was the affair of the Bridge : but that would be settled in time : every thing could not be done at once. Thus flowed public feeling in Willowacre, all in favour of Sir Nigel, while the remembrance of his supposed generosity was so fresh; and thus floated the whispers about the supposed match between the baronet and Gilbert’s sister. Gilbert heard the whispers ; and, it must be confessed, they gratified him. He felt a degree of pity for Edgar Tichborne ; he was sorry that his sister had ever given the young man any encouragement. But it could not be helped : the young man must console himself as well as he could : Alice was certainly better fitted to become a baronet’s lady, than the wife of a silk- mercer; and she had a right to change her mind. The alliance with a title had seized the mind of Gilbert; and he did not deny it to himself. Now and then, he bethought him that he would not like to be rejected, thus coldly and selfishly, by sweet May. But he always reasoned, somehow or other, that u that would be quite a different matter altogether.” And, since he had only himself to reason with on this point, he found it easy to get the best of the argument. Yet Gilbert was puzzled with the conduct of Alice. He observed nothing more in her than a very polite attention to their guest; and, certainly, a decided preference for Sir Nigel’s conversation, when subjects of taste were introduced. He also heard of their frequent drives, and sometimes caught them walk- ing together in the shrubbery, when he happened to return home earlier than usual from business. But no word or look of Alice could be interpreted into regard, much less affection, for the baronet. She never showed a wish to stay one moment longer in the company of Sir Nigel than the strictest etiquette demanded : indeed, so far as his sister’s real inclination could be marked, Gilbert could not determine that it was in favour of his honoured and valued friend. There was a presumption only : she no longer received Edgar Tichborne. 76 ALDERMAN RALPH. That his honoured and valued friend had fixed a strong and determined regard upon Alice, Gilbert could not doubt. Did he not watch her movements, express regret with his eyes when she left the room, and often address her with a degree of tenderness in his manner, which he seemed to wish to increase if he had not feared it would offend her? No: Gilbert could not doubt that Sir Nigel was in love with Alice, though, as yet, he had not dropped even a hint of his passion verbally to Gilbert. And was Sir Nigel Nickem in love with Alice Pevensey? He did not know the meaning of words which mean purity of affection: he did not believe in its existence. It was a romance at which he could have played, as he had played before, if Alice could have been won by the game. Since she was not to be imposed upon by the counterfeit, he was trying to win her in her own way, if he could^discover it. He was eager, he was anxious, to make her his wife. He now desired it above every thing in the world, and as the great step, not only to save him from ruin, but to place him once more in command of fortune. To persevere, he was determined; yet week after week passed, while he put forth every charm of conversation, and watched and seized every opportunity of paying her the most devoted attention, and he could not discern that he had gained the slightest real hold on the affections of Alice. How easy it would have been for him to have won her entirely, if he could have given any sign of true passion ! Alice unerringly traced the marks of affectation or guile in all his approaches. She did not suspect the thorough and sordid meanness which prompted him anew to seek her hand. Had she entertained such a suspicion, he would have been repulsed with disgust. Gilbert’s loans to Sir Nigel were all made without her knowledge; and nothing met her observation which could raise a single thought in her mind, that the baronet was involved in pecuniary difficul- ties. Alice even gave him credit for a kind of careless generosity in his thoughts of herself. She believed that he undervalued the honour he could confer upon her by elevating her to rank ; ALDERMAN RALPH. 77 and she came gradually to a belief, that he really preferred her to all other women. But Alice saw that he did not love her, and doubted that he ever could love. Life, with him, would be cold formality at the best; and it might become settled hate, and subject her to cruel suffering. Even when the conviction had become strong in her mind that he preferred her to others, she believed that his still stronger motive for wishing to possess her was, that he might triumph over the woman who had once refused him, and that haughtily and contemptuously. How often she rose in the morning, after sleepless hours of inward contest and reproach, and resolved to say or do some- thing, that day, which should quash his hopes, and put an end to his affected attentions ! How often she resolved, or fancied she resolved, to write a letter of friendly and almost humble apology to Edgar Tichborne ! But the letter was not written. Edgar had not written a second time; and she was too proud to bend to him. Pride banished her better resolution towards Edgar, and Pride also largely assisted to disable her from summoning strength to repel the baronet’s advances finally and decidedly. But there was a softer and yet a mightier power that robbed her of this strength. It was the revival of old affection. Alice had triumphed over it once, and thought herself in no danger of being enthralled by it again. But when thrown daily into the companionship of him who had been her first and true passion, she must have been more than woman not to have been in danger from him. Thus weeks rolled over, and the baronet was exerting all his power of thought to devise a mode of winning Alice; and Alice was balancing her old love and a title in one mental scale, against the prospects of a cheerless, and perhaps a miserable wifehood, in the other, only to produce a torturous equipoise. Alice could not resolve, effectually, to dash away the balances; and Sir Nigel pursued his prize with the perseverance of a slow though sure gamester. Gilbert Pevensey, as an observer, suffered at times almost as 78 ALDERMAN RALPH. much as either of the actors, during this season of their anxious passion-play. Perhaps it preserved him from more anxious throes with regard to May Silverton. He wrote to May, now, much less frequently ; and yet kindly and tenderly assured her, that he did so in order that he might not he considered as mak- ing unfeeling demands on her time by requiring frequent replies. Gilbert was made duly acquainted with the deeper and con- tinued indisposition of Alderman Balph; and, although he deplored it, he was yet at times selfish enough to reflect, that since May’s uncle was to be ill, it was as well that Mr. Palph was ill now, while the wished-for union between Sir Nigel and his sister was occasioning him so much anxiety ; and, if May’s uncle were to die, it would be well that his sister were wed before he himself took May to wife. Nay, he reasoned, there might be a providence in the removal of the worthy alderman : that would sweep away all obstacles to his union with sweet May ; and, perhaps, the union of his sister with his honoured and valued friend was a providence conjunct with that. Often Gilbert Pevensey started at his own thoughts, and reproached himself for having more low, mean, and selfish imaginings and half- wishes, than any other mortal. But he was hugely mistaken : he only resembled thousands in similar circumstances. Sweet May, during these weeks and months, was devoutly walking in the same path of duty and self-sacrifice; and with the same loving patience and zeal. May never felt a doubt of Gilbert’s true love. She only questioned, now and then, if it were as devoted as her own; but could not think of claiming deeper affection from Gilbert, unless she could have shown that she deserved it; and that she could not conceive to be true. She reasoned down some discontent with Gilbert’s less frequent letters, by assuring herself that he had given her the motive for writing seldomer from his very heart; and it only proved more fully how truly and tenderly he loved his little May. Besides, it showed that he did not wish to rob her dear uncle of his May’s attention ; and she would love him the more for that. ALDERMAN RALPH. 79 Unweariedly she was by her uncle’s bedside, smoothing his pillow, and endeavouring softly to awaken him to lucid conscious- ness ; or watching his dear brave face, now so worn and changed, when he was asleep; or she was busy preparing broths or cordials for his support and relief — for she did prepare every thing that her uncle took with her own hands, and was his constant nurse and attendant. No sharpness of temper, no tetchiness, was produced in May by this long trial. She cleaved to the pious thought, that it was all divinely and yet lovingly appointed, and was for the best. And then, if it were to last for years, all her service could not repay her dear dear uncle’s tender kindness. Ah, Gilbert Pevensey, what a perfect jewel of a wife was thus being brightened for you in that season of trial ! Did you deserve her? We hardly think you did. Yet sweet May not only thought so; but wished she were a thousand times worthier to become yours ! 80 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER VII. In which the workings of our Minstrel’s mind are described ; and new Cares come upon him by the serious Errors of Betty Brown, and the Lightness of Margery. Our minstrel may be deemed an idle, ingrateful sort of fellow, for not feeling quite settled and happy in his new vocation, since he was kindly used and far better paid than he had been for fiddling : that is to say, his income on the average was greater, by at least one-third, than it had hitherto been. Still you could not expect a man who had been a wanderer from village to town, and from wake to wedding, during so many years of his life, to feel settled all at once ; or one who had lived among excitements, to feel a keen and sudden relish for the contemplative occupation of a gardener. Even a precarious mode of earning a livelihood, since it sometimes puts a man in possession of a considerable sum by brief labour, though it not seldom inflicts scarceness upon him, has its powerful charms for excitable natures, and of such, the reader knows, was poor Jack Jigg. Jack was often dull, and sometimes really wished he had never consented to take the spade in the garden-grounds of Lovesoup House. Yet whoever uses those reproachful words, “ idle and ingrateful,” in condemning poor Jack, will do him a grievous wrong. It is true that will be nothing new to him, for he has had his share of harsh usage all his life. But Jack was often heard to say, and to say truly, that “ he never had an idle bone in his skin and, since “ ingratitude was as the sin of witchcraft,” he hated it; and so he did, too. Jack’s diligence in the garden was so notable, that Gilbert and Alice Pevensey were delighted with him, and were always devising some new scheme of bene- ALDERMAN RALPH. 81 filing himself and his family; and Jack used to say to his wife, with heartfelt earnestness, that “ they were the best creatures in the world, and he would go through fire and water for them — - that he would ! ” Working among shrubs and flowers — although Jack loved them — sometimes for hours together without speaking to a single fellow-creature, was not only dull in itself; hut our diplomatic and constructive fiddler, for such he was by the habits of the greater part of a life, felt it more dull, and even vexatious, be- cause it threw him out of the cabinet, thrust him out of the administration, deprived him of even an occasional ambassador- ship of, or under Emperor Cupid. It is true, he had Margery to look after ; but she seemed so quietly and contentedly fixed now, and was, to Jack’s observance, so orderly, that she “ gave him nothing to do or to think about,” as he said. Alice Pevensey had often told him that she feared he worked too hard, and declared he was quite at liberty to take a little holiday on any day, or any part of a day, that he chose. Jack had always thanked his kind mistress, but never took advantage of her words, till one day, when she and the baronet had gone out in Sir Nigels carriage, and Gilbert was away on business, Jack stuck his spade in the moulds, put on his coat, and deter- mined to make a friendly call at the kitchen-door of Mr. Alderman Ralph : ostensibly to chat with Patty Drudge, but penetratively to learn more of that same queer setting of Betty Brown’s cap at the learned Dingyleaf of the four pronomina. Jack was eagerly received by little Davy’s mother, and yet her eagerness had something strangely marked about it. J ack asked after Betty. “I’ll tell her you are come,” said Patty, with a very peculiar look, and immediately opened an interior door of the kitchen, and cried “ Betty, here’s Jack Jigg called to see us!” “ Give my respects to him : he must excuse me : I’m throng,” Jack heard Betty say, in a hasty and flurried tone; and Patty closed the door, and then shook her head deprecatingly at Jack — G VOL. II. 82 ALDERMAN RALPH. once; and then stood still, with her mouth pursed up, and her hands on hip ; twice ; — and a third time ; and then she stood, giving J ack a long, sorrowful look, “ enough to melt the heart of a whetstone,” as J ack afterwards said ! What could it all mean? Jack inwardly asked. He would like to know. But how could he learn, unless Patty Drudge told him? Yet Patty looked as if she were chokeful of some tremendous mystery, and could not utter it! Jack gazed at her helplessly, with open mouth — “ a fool’s sign,” he afterwards said, “that he had never given in his life, save on that occa- sion.” “It’s coming home by her,” said Patty, at last; but she came nearer to Jack, and whispered ; “ her apron-strings are getting too short!” Patty went back three or four yards, and held up her hands, and stood looking at Jack, more ruefully than ever. Jack sat, and felt as if somebody had thrown cold water all over him. Patty and he had known Betty’s mother at Meadowbeck all their lives; and had known Betty herself from the day that she was bom. They did not judge of her case as people judge of the like now, in your large manufacturing towns, or in your corrupt capitals. They regarded it as a deep and deplorable degradation, and that to be borne and remembered for life. “ Good Lord!” ejaculated Jack, “ it will break her poor old mother’s heart! Plas her mother heard of it?” “Nobody has heard of it but you,” answered Patty; “and nobody out of the house knows of it. Nor does Miss May suspect it — poor dear sweet creatur ! She’s never a thowt but about her poor uncle — my good old master ! ” and Patty began to weep and sob. “Lord bless me!” said Jack, “ I little thought of finding you so full of trouble; and yet I remember now, that poor little Davy has looked heavy for this last week or more.” “ Poor bairn ! he catches me crying, sometimes,” said Patty, “ and, of course, it makes him uneasy.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 83 “ Well, of course, she can’t stay any longer here, I should think,” observed Jack. “No,” said Patty ; “ and where do ye think she’s going to hide herself?” “ Poor lass !” answered Jack, shaking his head, “ I cannot tell, — I’ve no guess.” “Why, at old Nykin Noddlepate’s.” “ What! in that wooden-legged old villain’s den! — Why, this is worse and worse ! — Patty, do call her in, and let me talk to her.” “You talk to her, Jack! She would not speak to you. I knew she wouldn’t when I called her at first. She’s as proud as Lucifer, although she’s a fallen woman ; and says that she shall be a lady yet, and shall roll in her carriage ! ” “ She must be crazed,” said Jack. “ Not she — she’s only befooled by her pride,” said Patty; “ and yet it might happen that the doctor might marry her. One thing looks as if he had some’at in his head : he has told Miss May he shall leave us altogether in a few days, for that he can’t think o’ troubling us any longer, consithering the alderman’s serious illness. Yet it looks awful, you know, that she’s a-going to such a wretch as old Nykin’s!” “And has she told her mistress that she’s a going there?” asked Jack. “ Miss May doesn’t know that she’s a-going away at all, or that aught ails her.” “ Then how is she to get away ? ” “ She intends to go away sudden, like ; and I am to tell Miss May that the place was too heavy for her; and that she went away unbeknown to Miss May for fear of offending her.” “ And have you promised to tell these lies for her?” “ You know one can’t expose another woman’s shame, Jack,” answered Patty. “ Why — no!” said Jack, fixing his eyes on the floor thought- fully. Jack stayed a little longer to try and cheer the mind of 84 ALDERMAN RALPH. poor Patty Drudge; and hastened back to his gardening, almost with the wish that he had not quitted it. Jack had ruminated an hour or more on the afflictive story he had heard from Patty Drudge, when he was joined in the garden by her son. “ Where ha’ ye been putting yourself, Jack?” asked the lad; “ I was here, looking for you, this morning, and could not find ye*” “ I wasn’t long away, Davy,” replied the fiddler, disinclined to answer the boy’s question. “ What’s amiss, Jack?” asked Davy, quickly noticing Jack’s uneasy look; “ has some’at happened ye?” “ No, no, Davy — nothing,” answered the fiddler, trying to look cheerful. “ Oh! well, I’m glad o’ that,” said the lad; “ ’cause I want to give you a hint o’ something that’ll not be very pleasant to ye.” “ What is it, Davy?” asked Jack, stopping at his work, and looking earnestly at his old-fashioned pupil. “ You know you told me that you had got the place here for Margery Markpence, to take care of her. I have kept it to myself.” “ I’ve no doubt of it, my dear lad. And what of that?” “ And you told me that she was sweetheart to young Farmer Jipps, that’s gone away, and that’s innocent of what they say about him.” “ And so he is, my lad. But what hast thou got to say about Margery ? ” “ Why, that I think she’s no better than she should be,” declared Davy bluntly ; “ she’s a many sly skittish ways with her — though she doesn’t let you see ’em. She’s ower prim to say ‘pudding’ when you’re i’ the kitchen; but when you’re out on’t, she’s always setting her cap at Sir Nigel’s tall footman — the foreign scaramouch fellow!” “D — n all their caps!” Jack had nearly said; but checked himself because of the boy’s presence. “ If you don’t believe me, watch her when she doesn’t know ALDERMAN RALPH. 85 that you see her,” added the boy, thinking Jack looked incre- dulous as well as vexed. “ Davy,” said Jack, putting his hand on the little fellow’s shoulder, and looking trustfully, “ thou hast never told me a lie, and I don’t doubt thee now. Keep this close. I’ll see to it.” “ Please yourself about that, Jack. I don’t want to make the lass any mischief. But I thought you ought not to be deceived. That fellow — it’s him with the big whiskers, you know ! — chucks her under the chin, and she giggles at him. Kay, I saw him give her a kiss one day, in the long passage; and she seemed nothing loath, ayther ! ” J ack laughed, in spite of his vexation ; but straightened his face speedily, and shook his 'head, to show his young friend that this was, after all, a serious matter. The lad hastened away, saying that the carriage would soon be back, and his mistress would want him; and Jack was again left alone, and was soon absorbed in reflection. “ Drat these women- varment !” ran Jack’s thoughts in his own classic vein ; “ one has more trouble with them than with aught else upon earth ! I ought to be precious thankful that I’ve found a good and faithful wife. What would have become of me, had I been yoked to one of these cap- setting jades — woe worth ’em ! But men are as bad as even the worst of ’em. To think of this filthy old billy-goat of a Dingyleaf-— with all his stinking pride and surliness, and his books and trumpery ! A man of learning, forsooth ! The devil must have helped him with his lessons, and taught him his A, B, C, wrong-side up’ards! When he’s ruined this poor lass, he’s going to hide her in that den of wickedness — old Ky kin’s ! Who knows what he means to do with her there, or what foul end he thinks of bringing her to? I’ll be close upon his heels though — as clever and as high- learnt as he thinks he is — or my name isn’t Jack Jigg. I’ve known the lass from her being a bairn i’ the cradle; and though she’s always been too proud and stuck-up, she shall 86 ALDERMAN RALPH. not be ruined beyond recovery, for lack of a struggle on my part. I’ll promise that for her poor widowed mother’s sake — as honest a creature as ever broke bread — and one that was always ready to help my poor wife in her needs, night or day. “ And then there’s this other deceitful young baggage. For all she knows that she’s so often been in danger, and it has cost me so much thought to keep her out of it — she’s toying with it again! Poor Jonathan! how fondly he doats on her, in his last letter ! He little suspects how merry she can be, while he’s in trouble; and how fickle she is. Still she must have a real respect for the dear lad at heart; and she must like him better than any body else. I’m sure she must. She couldn’t be playing the hypocrite when she took on so about him, at the times I can remember. They’re a complete » mystery, are these women- gear! There’s no reading of em! The wisest man that ever lived couldn’t do it. I’ll warrant it, even King Solomon could not — and he’d a pretty large experience of ’em, by all account ! “ I must have her away from this place — for poor Jonathan’s sake, more than her own. It would break his heart to lose her pretty face — woe worth her! But what must I do with her? She mustn’t go home again. Her father’s crabbed, skin-flintly ways have been the main cause of her getting wrong; and if she went home again, I shouldn’t wonder at her running away from him, and that black-hearted Threap triumphing in her ruin. — That’s it ! Thank heaven there’s a light breaks ! They’ll want a girl at the good alderman’s — the Lord in heaven bless him, and speedily restore him, if it be His blessed will ! — they’ll want a lass in poor Betty’s place — Madge will be in no danger there, since this scarecrow of a doctor is going to quit — and since Betty is to leave ’em so suddenly, they’ll not have time to get another servant before Margery can get there — if I can bring that about — and bring it about I must. And now let’s think how it is to be done!” Jack’s thinkings — for the reader must not be teased with a longer soliloquy — will be shown in the result. At present, it ALDERMAN RALPH. 87 need only be added that Jack revisited Patty Drudge that evening, and learned that Dingyleaf had taken a sudden resolve, and quitted Mr. Ralph’s, with bag and baggage, two hours before ; and that Betty Brown was, secretly, to go off before daylight, the next morning. There was, therefore, no time to be lost. J ack won Patty’s interest for Margery, and promised to be with her by breakfast-time next morning, to put a bold scheme of his own into execution. 88 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER VIII. Re-entrance of Hugh Plombline on the arena of Statesmanship: Jack’s higher Wisdom displayed in his rejection of Expediency for Openness and Honesty. Once more, in the ancient Guildhall of Wiilowacre, sit assem- bled that sage corporation, minus only their senior alderman. Questions of inferior consideration have been debated and deter- mined ; and now the town-clerk rises to inform the council, that his worship the mayor — our old acquaintance, the rich butcher, Diggory Cleavewell — wishes his respected brethren to occupy their wisdom in devising some plan for the settlement of the Bridge question. Mr. Pomponius simply gives that intimation, and sits down — very much with the air of one who, having touched a hot poker, lets it fall as speedily as possible. The members of the council sat and looked furtively at each other, and then at the table or the oaken carvings, and anon coughed nearly all round, as was their wont when any difficult question was broached. Jerry Dimple fixed his affectionate gaze on the vacant seat of his revered and beloved friend, Alderman Ralph, till the tears gathered in his eyes. There was a general feeling of uneasiness, and the majority wondered who would be bold enough to get up, and first tackle the old, long-standing difficulty - — when up rose Alderman Hugh Plombline. “ I beg most respectfully to observe,” began the diplomatist, “ that his worship’s request, as briefly stated by our respected town-clerk, is too vague to enable us clearly to understand its bent. We all know that the Bridge question is a very compli- cated one; that unless it be very prudently handled, it may ALDERMAN RALPH. 89 awaken old hostilities which, I am sure, we are all desirous to let sleep” — “ Hear, hear, hear!” cried the majority of the assembly, and some loudly — a fact that showed the politic Hugh that the tide of opinion lay in the direction favourable for his own purpose. “ In order that we may avoid unpleasant controversy, and at the same time conform to his worship’s wishes, may I be allowed to suggest that he will, himself, briefly state what part of the question he wishes us to consider at this time'?” Thus craftily perorated Hugh — throwing the weight of risk on the mayor, and imputing the blame to that dignitary, before- hand and by inference, if he should dare to open the question in such a way as to provoke the renewal of old quarrels. It is not clear that the worshipful Mr. Diggory saw into Plombline’s craft ; but, at any rate, Hugh’s short speech angered him. “ Do as you like, gentlemen,” he said roughly : “ if you think it creditable to the corporation to let the bridge remain still longer in that forlorn and beggarly condition — why, so be it ! For my part, I can’t help telling you that I’m ashamed to see it. I should think such a state of things may be remedied, either by hook or by crook. And why we are to be frightened from men- tioning this business, I don’t know.” And yet the stout mayor Diggory was frightened — more par- ticularly from mentioning what he wished to mention. “ I really think his worship is under some misapprehension of my meaning,” observed the subtle Hugh, rising again and turn- ing with a kind smile towards the mayor; “ we are none of us frightened at the question, but merely desirous of approaching it in such a way as not to disturb the present delightful harmony of the borough.” “ The bridge doesn’t look very delightful,” broke forth the mayor, who hated Plombline’s kind smile above all things. “ I grant his worship is right enough there. We all grant it; and I’m sure, every one of us would be glad to see a new bridge erected” — 90 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ And made toll-free, as Sir Nigel said lie would make it. Now, then — that’s what I mean, since you will have it!” ex- claimed the mayor, crimsoning with anger and impatience. “ Mr. Mayor and gentlemen, I’m sure no one can charge me with disrespect to the chair,” resumed Hugh, lowering his voice, and looking full of respectful entreaty and expostulation ; “ but I do think this is not the way in which the name of that honour- able person should be introduced here. I need not say how generous his conduct has been ever since we chose him to repre- sent us in parliament. To enumerate the liberal things he has done would take up your time unnecessarily ; but they ought, at least, to be taken as unmistakeable proofs of what he purposes to do in future” — and Mr. Hugh was compelled pleasingly to pause, until the cheers with voice and feet had subsided. He was ready to go on, when attention was restored; but the stubborn mayor Diggory’s mettle was roused, and the cheers in approval of Plomb- line only served to rouse him still more. “I care nothing about that clatter,” he cried, preventing Hugh’s smooth oratory ; “ I’m neither to be wheedled nor hubbubed out of my opinion. I say, Sir Nigel ought to be reminded of his promise about the bridge.” “ And so say I,” cried Alderman Siftall. “ And I’m of the same opinion,” added J erry Dimple. “ And I beg to say,” chimed in Mr. Alderman Poundsmall, “ that I also think that the baronet should be spoken to, in a respectful way, about this business.” “ Hear, hear,” was the confirmation of two or three other mem- bers of the council. “ I was happy to hear that word from Mr. Alderman Pound- small,” went on Plombline, now discerning the way in which he could only bring the affair to an end ; “ and I beg to say that I have not the slightest objection to a respectful application being made to Sir Nigel. Do not let us stir up any ill-feeling about it. Let a select committee be appointed at once — not only, I should say, as a deputation to wait upon the baronet, at such a time as ALDERMAN RALPH. 91 it may be convenient to him to receive them; but also to enter into any little business of negotiation with him, that they may find necessary.” “ That will do,” said the mayor Diggory ; “ I ask no more than that Sir Nigel should be properly spoken to. Of course, I did not wish that he should be bullied. That will do very well. Let the committee be named.” “ Why not entrust this business to the archives’ committee ? ” asked little Nicky Backstitch, rising to do his part, as arranged between himself and Plombline ; “ they have had no special duty to attend to, as a committee, these many months.” There was a smothered laugh among the members of the council: an indication that they were beginning to think the search for the Bridge Deed only a farce. “ Move it, move it ! and let’s have done with it,” cried several, when the laugh was over. “ I move then, Mr. Mayor,” pronounced Mr. Nicholas, “ that the archives’ committee be empowered to — to — I need only say, to confer with Sir Nigel Nickem, and negotiate with him relative to the bridge — as may be found necessary.” “ That’ll do,” cried the majority, anxious to get home to their dinners. Mr. Nicky’s motion was seconded, put to the vote, and carried without a dissentient. “ May I suggest, Mr. Mayor,” said Plombline, just as the council were starting to their feet, — “ respectfully suggest” — and then he lowered his tone, and put on a look of respectful sorrow — “ that since the oldest member of this corporation is understood to be in circumstances of such serious affliction, as to render it probable that we may never see his honoured face again in this hall” — and then he stopped amidst deep silence, and as if struggling with feeling — “ and since that honoured person is a member of the archives’ committee — that we now appoint another member of this council — say, the worthy alderman next in seniority — in the room of that honoured person?” 9 2 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ I second that motion/’ said Solomon Topple. The plotters had fulfilled their little parts; this motion was also carried ; and the council broke up. Before Hugh Plombline, aided by his subalterns, had accom- plished his measure of generalship — our minstrel was by the side of Patty Drudge, and ready to enter on a little soldiership he had planned for himself. “ Is she gone?” asked Jack. “ Hours ago,” answered Patty; “ I’ve only just told Miss May about her being gone, and she takes on sorely about it. N ow, J ack, how would ye have me to mention Margery to her ? You must lesson me in the words I’m to say.” “No: I shall speak to the young lady myself,” said Jack, quietly. “ You, Jack! you bespeak Miss May!” cried Patty, staring at what she held to be unaccountable audacity in the fiddler ; “ why, she doesn’t know ye! how can ye expect to see her?” “ Patty, listen to me, and don’t be foolish,” said Jack, in the same quiet way; “just you go into the room, and say, ‘ Please, Miss May, here’s a poor man to whom Mr. Alderman Balph has been very kind, begs to see you.’” “ Why, ay, that’ll do, Jack. I didn’t think o’ that. Just say it o’er again, will ye?” Jack repeated the brief petition thrice; and Patty went to present it. She soon returned, and then marshalled Jack into the breakfast-parlour. May was alone, and looked troubled; but Jack could have fallen at her feet and worshipped her! She motioned him to a chair, and asked him to be seated; but Jack declined. He felt as if he should be committing sin to sit in such a presence! Ay, ay, they may laugh at you, honest Jack! but you have more real chivalry in your nature than a score carpet knights — although woman-care has so often been a plague to you! “ If you please, Miss May,” began Jack,” my name is Jack Jigg, the fiddler of Meadowbeck — that was, until” — but May ALDERMAN RALPH. 93 smiled at the name till Jack halted, and he half -thought she must be an angel, she looked so lovely ! “ Go on, if you please : I have heard of you,” said sweet May. “ Until — until Mr. and Miss Pevensey would have me to be their gardener” — and Jack faltered again, for May blushed so deeply, and then turned her radiant face away, that he felt con- founded. But May looked at him again; and he went on, resolved not to behave so foolish] y any more, but to finish what he had to say. “ Your good uncle, Mr. Alderman Balph, was the best friend I ever had in my life,” J ack went on, though he found it hard to do so, when sweet May’s tears began to flow; “ I am but a sinful man, yet I pray for him, night and day — and so does my wife — and my children shall be taught to bless him.” “ How many children have you?” asked May. “ Seven, — I thank ye, Miss May,” answered Jack; and, if his speech was less shrewd than it was wont to be, it must be attributed to his unwonted confusion of mind. “ And you are in some distress, and want help. Tell me what it is,” said May, taking out her little silk purse. “ No, miss, I thank ye,” answered Jack; “ I’ve an excellent place under Mr. and Miss Pevensey. They’re the kindest and best gentlefolks in the world — always excepting Mr. Alderman Balph — and yourself.” May had blushed again, — and Jack noted it keenly; but she laughed now. “ Why, how do you know that I am so kind?” she said. “ Oh ! Miss May, every body says so, you know ; besides you can’t fail, when you have so good an example as your uncle. But I beg pardon, miss, I asked to speak to ye, not for myself; but I hope you’ll hear me in behalf of another.” “ Very gladly, if it be any case of suffering that I can relieve,” said sweet May. “ Not a case of suffering, miss; but a case of danger.” “ Danger!” said May, looking rather alarmed. 94 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ You’ll allow me to speak honestly and openly to ye, miss, I hope,” said Jack. “ To be sure I will,” answered May, for the sympathy of her pure nature showed her that she was dealing with one that was true-hearted. “ Well, then, Miss May, to begin — Patty Drudge, who is a very old friend of my wife’s, informs me that Betty Brown has suddenly left you this morning ; and I thought you would want somebody in her place.” “ I do, indeed,” interjected May. “ And it so happens that there is a young person, over whom I have a sort of care, that I wished to recommend to ye, miss, if I might be so bold.” “ I am sure you would not recommend any one who was not honest and upright. Who is she, pray'?” “ She is the daughter of the bridge toll-keeper, miss,” answered Jack, “ and” — “ Oh dear ! ” said May, “ I’m sorry ; but I fear her father is a very rude sort of man — at least my poor dear uncle used to say so. But — how is she in your care? why does not her father take care of her?” “ Her father is a rude man, as you have truly said, miss; and therefore I do not want her to return to his house.” “ But where is she now? At your house, perhaps. Surely, you did not encourage her to run away from her father?” “ Oh dear, no, miss!” answered Jack, shaking his head in deprecation of such a supposition; “ I knew she was wretched and uneasy at home, and so I got her a situation — but it was with her father’s leave.” “ And why has she left the situation you so kindly obtained for her?” “ She has not left it, miss ; nor do I think she wishes to leave it. And when I tell you that she is at Mr. and Miss Pevensey’s, you’ll not suppose she can be unhappy.” u But you said she was in danger,” observed May, looking ALDERMAN RALPH. 9 5 somewhat excited; “ what do you mean? Besides, if she does not wish to leave her present service, how is she to be brought here? Why, in short, do you come to mention her to me? It looks very strange!” “ I know it does, miss. But you said you would allow me to speak openly and honestly to you.” “ I did: please to go on!” “ Well, then, miss — and I beg you will excuse my freedom — you must understand, Margery Markpence — that’s this young woman’s name — is engaged to young Farmer Jipps of Meadow- beck, whom I have known from a boy, and who is one of the best-hearted young men in the world. Flow, this young man is away in London, and is obliged to be there some time longer; and — pray, excuse my freedom, miss ! ” — “ Pray, do go on,” entreated May, whose heart began to feel deeply drawn into the case. “ And there are now too many men-servants of Sir Nigel’s at Lovesoup House; and — and — I want her to be out of danger, miss; for I’m very fond of Jonathan Jipps, and I pledged my word to him to look after her; — and it would break his heart if she were to go wrong, he doats on her so.” Jack stopped; for he saw he had fully succeeded according to his calculation — that by telling the story truly and openly to one whom every one described as being purity and goodness, he should fully interest her in the fate of Margery. May sat a few moments, and looked very thoughtful. “Well,” she said, “I will take the young woman in Betty’s place, if she will come. But, perhaps, she will not be willing or able to leave suddenly; and I really must have somebody immediately.” “ Pray, pardon my freedom, miss, in what I have to say, and then I’ll say no more,” said Jack — for now what he esteemed the last difficulty remained ; — “ if you would be so good and kind as to write to Miss Pevensey, and ask her to let Margery Mark- pence come to assist Patty Drudge, since you were suddenly 96 ALDERMAN RALPH. left without the help you required, I’m sure Miss Pevensey would do so. You can say that Patty has recommended the young woman” — “ Does Patty know her ? But I’ll ask her,” said May, and rang the bell. Patty commended Margery, according to her promise to Jack, who was here somewhat diplomatic — we will use no harsher word — for Patty knew little, very little of Margery, personally : but trusted Jack’s word. “ Miss Pevensey, I have no doubt, will do any thing to oblige me,” observed May, when Patty had gone back to the kitchen ; u and I suppose you undertake to say that the young woman shall come if Miss Pevensey requests it. You know I cannot ask Miss Pevensey to send her against her will.” “ By Jingo !” thought Jack, “I shall fail — -just at the last pinch, if I don’t mind — but here goes! If you please, Miss May,” he continued audibly and fervently, “ do step in like a good angel, and save this poor young woman from danger. Her father used her cruelly at home ; and now I’ve got her to Love- soup House, and she was happy and innocent ; ” — that last word cost Jack a pang — but he felt himself desperate, and therefore stretched a point of conscience — “ but there come these tall whiskered footmen of Sir Nigel’s, and they take freedoms — Do excuse me, Miss May, and pity the poor girl ! I do not wish to be seen or known to have had any thing to do with her leaving Lovesoup House. If you will only send an urgent request to Miss Pevensey that she comes here, she is sure to be sent, without an hour’s delay. Save her from danger — that is all I crave — both for her own sake, and the sake of as good a lad as ever breathed, that loves her! Do, pray do, Miss May! and, so far as my poor help can be of any value to you, you may command me to go through fire and water for you night or day!” Sweet May sat and looked with a thrill of strange feeling at the fiddler — as if, from his words, she foreboded some fearful reality in the future, and in which she should need his help. ALDERMAN RALPH. 97 “ Please join Patty in the kitchen,” she said, at length, “ and I will write a note to Miss Pevensey in a few minutes, and trouble you to take it.” Jack bowed to the ground, and withdrew. “ What a missus you’ve got, Patty!” burst forth Jack, when he had closed the kitchen-door. “ Why, she’s an angel ! she’s the sweetest creature that ever man saw! she’s the beautifullest darling in Willowacre ! she’s — ” “ Ay, isn’t she ? Bless her sweet heart ! ” cried Patty ; “ she’s all goodness, like her poor dear uncle; and such a beauty! — isn’t she, Jack? — But, I say, is the young woman coming? And, Lord ! J ack, how could ye be so bold as to talk to Miss May all this livelong hour or more? But it’s just like ye, Jack! and, i’faith, I believe my poor lad will be a good deal like ye. You’ve made him a’most as old-farrantly as yoursen; and yet he’ll not be fourteen till next Candlemas. But he’s a good true- hearted bairn, though he’s but little of his age, Jack, isn’t he?” and here Patty began to stifle her voice with her tears — or she might have run on till Miss May had stopped her tongue, by ringing to give her the letter. J ack struck in, and told Patty that he expected Margery would join her very soon, and that he was merely waiting for Miss May’s letter to Miss Pevensey. “ Then you’ll be off soon, J ack,” said Patty ; “ but call again soon. You’ve mentioned Miss Pevensey, and I want to say a thing or two to ye.” “ I will,” said Jack ; “ I’ll call again to-night — for I shall want to know how Margery settles.” May’s bell rang; and Patty soon returned to Jack with the letter. “ Now mark, Patty!” said Jack; “not one word to Margery about my speaking to Miss May in order to get her here ; and — above all — not one word to her about the real cause of Betty Brown’s going away ! ” “ Oh, Lord! no — not a word,” said Patty; and Jack departed, VOL. II. H 98 ALDERMAN RALPH. doubting Patty’s power of keeping secrets for many days, bat knowing that he had only the power to caution her. Alice Pevensey read May Silverton’s letter; and was glad — inexpressibly glad, considering late occurrences — to have the power of obliging her. It was an unwelcome surprise to Margery, but she was compelled to pack up at once ; and, in the course of an hour, was transferred to the establishment of Mr. Alderman Ralph, and the garrulous companionship of Patty Drudge. Sit tnjjirlr nor Mm, tjrt pnirhj SUirrnnati, rappers, anil rallirs jjis ^arhj. / ALDERMAN RALPH. 101 BOOK IX. CHAPTER I. Another chapter which is not in Continuation of the Narrative; but is quintes- sentially connected with the Character of the Hero. Shall I mention your name, good revered old man, truly reverend vicar of Willowacre! No: you have gone to your reward ; your name is written in the Book of Life ; and it shall not lightly he set down here! Your wish shall he obeyed — that the world should not he encouraged to busy itself with passing encomiums on your name and virtues, lest it should substitute the utterance of such empty breath for the self-denying performance of its own duties. “ When thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth : ” that great maxim of your Divine Master — so clearly proving his all-perfect knowledge of the human heart, and of the subtle self-deceits by which man’s best motives are so often corrupted, and his best actions tarnished — that great maxim was ever before you; in the spirit of it you “ went about doing good,” and hundreds who received the good did not know that you were the doer. I will not introduce your name, and I have been tender of making allusions to your existence; but I must say something about you now. It was not set down that you were by the bedside of Alderman Balph, cheering him amidst the gloom that fell upon him from the desertion of his friends, and their desertion of what he esteemed 102 ALDERMAN RALPH. to be right principles; and that it was you, good old man, that supported the heart of May when her dear uncle’s reason was clouded, and the physician shook his head, and gave up all for lost. Yet you were faithfully there, and inspired sweet May to hope when others said there was no hope : just as your Master would have done you did, breathed the balm of hope and com- forting trust into the fainting heart at its severest hour ! And when reason dawned again, you were still with the reviving sufferer, directing him to pursue again the path of uprightness; but to tread it with more gentleness, and humane allowance for the erring. He listened to you, and resolved to follow your teaching ; and in the evidence of that resolution you had your reward : you had not laboured in vain : your Master’s grandest lessons were triumphant. Why, indeed, should I weave your name into this worldly history ? It is too pure for such a stained web. The worshippers of gaudy colours would deem its purity insipid. It might shame some of your cassocked brethren — yet you never spoke evil of them; and I will not violate your example. I can point them to no large temporal or external advantage to be gained by imitating you. It might not strengthen their chances for securing a richer benefice, or higher church honours. It might not perpetuate their names even, beyond the succeeding genera- tion. Yours hath become dim already in that parish where you had been in every house, speaking there the words of Life, as well as in your church; where your voice was heard beside every sick- bed ; where your hand, so often unseen, was helping every public charity ; where you sustained the feeble, guided back the wanderer into the right path, clothed the naked, fed the hungry, protected the orphan and the fatherless, and made the widow’s heart to sing for joy — even there your name has become dim, and in a few generations it may be forgotten altogether. I know it may ; for some years ago I met a man who could talk critically about the ballet and the opera : he was the parson of ILoughton-le-Spring, and he had never, that he could recollect, heard of the name of ALDERMAN RALPH. 103 Bernard Gilpin; never heard that such a man once held the same living; and did not believe that any one in Honghton knew of it — for he had never heard any one in the parish men- tion 'it ! No, good vicar, I will not write dowm yonr name : you have a better monument — like Bernard Gilpin, and all “ of whom the world was not worthy : ” the influence which your good spirit breathed upon others, who shall breathe it again : that influence which lives when names are lost — which extends and communi- cates itself from mind to mind, from age to age, and perpetuates Good through all time, in spite of the power of Evil. All hail the saviours of the world whose names are lost ! 104 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTEK II. The Health of goodly Alderman Ralph is happily restored; and the Friendly Meetings of his Party at the Wheat Sheaf are renewed. Not more welcome are the first streaks of morning to the weary traveller, who has journeyed all night long amidst briary and miry paths, encompassed with clouds and darkness, and com- pelled to hear the savage voices, and sometimes feel the foul breath, of noxious creatures, — than is the cheering thought to the narrator of this devious history, that his hero again emerges from mental torpor and gloom into the light of active life, and is again to be beheld walking in uprightness. With what loving thankfulness sweet May caught her uncle’s first glance of renewed and settled consciousness, and heard him utter words — feeble, but no longer irrational, unconnected, or wandering ! His very first breathings, when restored to perfect consciousness, were blessings on May’s head. She knelt by his bedside only for a few moments; but the largest-souled seraph could not have poured forth notes of love and joy and gratitude more holily ac- ceptable to the Eternal ! And then she kissed her uncle’s worn face; and, gliding from the room, almost flew down-stairs to tell Edgar, and Patty, and Margery. They wept for joy — for even Margery, who had only been five days in Mr. Ralph’s house, already loved May fervently, and sympathised with every emo- tion of her young mistress. And again May was with her uncle entreating him to say what he would like ; and Mr. Ralph, to satisfy her, named some one of the favourite broths or soups that she enumerated to him. The heaven in May’s face that day, after so many days of sorrow, evermore drew the gaze of Margery, who thought she ALDERMAN RALPH, 105 should always have been good if she could have been near one so good and loving ; while Edgar sighed, and reproached himself for ever lQving any one but May. The next day, Edgar bore Mr. Ralph company for an hour; and the following day the worthy alderman sat for some hours in his chair; nay, before the week’s end, he was again an occupant of the parlour, and had begun to talk of getting out into the air. The news of Alderman Ralph’s convalescence ran like wildfire through Willowacre. The poor electors, who had spent what Sir Nigel Nickem had recently caused to be distributed among them, and thought it might be long before another election secured them a renewal of his favours, recalled the worthy alderman’s charities to mind, and professed warm attachment to him. His old friends and associates either sent messages of congratulation and regard, or personally left them at Mr. Ralph’s door; and, very soon, some entreated to be allowed to see him. Honest Jerry Dimple was foremost, as may be supposed; and was im- mediately followed by Peter Weatherwake. The conversation of his old acquaintances helped his recovery ; and the fine con- stitution of Mr. Ralph soon enabled him to renew, not only his strength, but, in a considerable degree, the corporal substantiality which had formerly marked his worshipful presence. Anon, the mayor Diggory and Alderman Siftall paid him a visit; and then the town clerk and Mr. Gervase. Mr. Ralph was soon possessed of full information as to the doings in the ancient borough during his illness; and either by conversations in his parlour, or walks with his friends, he discovered their growing discontent with the part they had taken in favouring the interests of Sir Nigel Nickem. He considered himself strong enough, at length, to propose a recommencement of their old friendly assem- blies at the Wheat Sheaf, and was gratified at the readiness with which his proposal was received. Jerry Dimple’s heart and eyes overflowed as he received his company; and when every member of the old companionship, save Hugh Plombline, had entered the parlour and taken their 106 ALDERMAN RALPH. old accustomed seats, lie felt so happy that he fairly hurst into tears. “ It’s nattaral, neighbours,” said the ancient harbour-master, breaking the silence which Jerry’s behaviour occasioned; “it’s quite nattaral. I have seen the same, more than once before, in my life, when messmates have been sundered in a shipwreck, and then come together again. It’s quite nattaral, neighbours” — and Peter again worked hard at his meerschaum. “ There’s a strength o’ meaning in that observation,” pro- nounced the mayor Diggory. “ Yes; it has a good deal of point in it, and is well applied too, I’m thinking,” said Mark Siftall. “ A very forcible comparison I feel it to be,” declared Mr. Gervase, the apothecary. “ Indeed, gentlemen, we may truly consider that we have been shipwrecked,” added Mr. Pomponius; “but I hope, with the experience of the past, we shall become more skilful sailors for the future. One good omen is, gentlemen, ” — and here Mr. Pompo- nius delivered himself with oracular energy, “ that we have, once more, the old pilot at the helm.” Every one of his old companions assembled in that little par- lour, crowded round Mr. Ralph instantly; seized, by turns, his hand; and pledged him their respect and attachment. So soon as their excitement had subsided, Mr. Ralph placed his hands in the pockets of his waistcoat — rose — and said — “Friends and neighbours, may God bless you all! For my- self, I can only thank you, and imperfectly express my happiness at meeting you here again. I trust the pleasures of the future will more than repay us for the troubles of the past. Troubles we must all have, at one time or another, in making the journey of life; and little good can arise from our dwelling upon them, when we are thus met together: they are subjects rather for private reflection; and, in that way, may be made serviceable to the mind’s health. I mean past and personal troubles. Of course, you all understand me, friends, in that sense. Present difficulties, ALDERMAN RALPH. 107 or difficulties at hand, we may be better able to encounter in concert. This dear old Wheat Sheaf parlour, we all remember well, used to be sacred from the strife of party ; and I should be glad to see it restored to its good old healthful uses. That can scarcely be, however, as yet; and the best use, I think, to which we can turn our meeting to-night, is to review our position and the position of the borough. I do not mean that this should be done in a formal way; but that our conversation should be directed into the channel of information. Once more I tender you my heartfelt thanks, and I beg pardon for having detained you so long. ” Now, there was something in this speech of Mr. Alderman Ralph — insipid as the reader may deem it — which made it very agreeable to his audience. Something both in the matter and the manner of it. It reproached nobody ; it did not commend himself ; there was not the old air of authority in it which was so well suited to the old times, but would not have suited the new ; and yet there was no false humility in it — nothing that would have made it look unnatural in the speaker. There was no loud applause at the end of it ; but a universal buzz of pleasure and of desire to set about business — very like the buzz of bees, sensible creatures that they are! “ To speak for myself,” began the mayor Diggory, thinking he had an official right to begin, as well as being hotly impatient to deliver himself, “ I wish, above all things, to hear Mr. Ralph’s mind as to the settlement of the Bridge question. The com- mittee that was appointed to negotiate with Sir Nigel Nickem about it, is of no use that I can see. The committee never meets the baronet. Plombline and Backstitch will not hear of hurrying him ; and they carry the committee with them. It seems to me to be a mere mockery.” “ I do not like to use strong language,” said Mr. Ralph ; “ but, according to my recollection, every negotiation with Sir Nigel Nickem has turned out a mockery.” “ You are right,” said Mark Siftall ; “ and I wish, though it is 108 ALDERMAN RALPH. now too late to wish it, that we had been warned by the treat- ment we experienced from him when we first saw him, and had never consented to have any thing further to do with him.” “ It is too late, as you observe,” remarked Mr Ralph, “ to wish that now. It only remains for us to do the best we can under circumstances.” “ J ust so : that only remains for us,” said Mr. Gervase Pound- small. “ Exactly what I was thinking,” said J erry Dimple. “ The worst of it is,” observed Mr. Pratewell, “ that Mr. Alderman Ralph is no longer a member of the archives’ com- mittee, which was appointed to negotiate with the baronet.” “ That was Plombline’s roguish doing!” exclaimed Jerry Dimple, reddening as he spoke. “ Let us not speak harshly, neighbour Dimple,” said the senior alderman, very mildly ; “ and, as for my not being included among the negotiators, why, gentlemen, it is as well that I am excluded. I should have made a bad negotiator in this business,” he concluded with a smile. “ And Sir Nigel would find me a rough one, if I could get at him,” said the mayor, hotly. “ My way of negotiating would be to tell him that his word is not worth chaff,” said the rich miller, with equal heat of temper. “ Gentlemen,” said Alderman Ralph, placing his hands in his waistcoat pockets, and rising again, “ I will utter no hasty thoughts. My mind is settled on this business. I would not be uncharitable towards any man. But I solemnly declare, that I believe Sir Nigel Nickem was mocking us from the first moment he made those promises and declarations respecting the Bridge; and that he does not intend and never did intend to perform. I hold all negotiation with him to be useless; and would not take a part in any deputation appointed to wait upon him. There is but one mode of freeing the borough from the wrong it has so long suffered from him and his family — the discovery of ALDERMAN RALPH. 109 the Deed. I thought you intimated, Mr Pratewell,” he con- cluded as he sat down, “ that you had some news to communicate to us respecting the doctor and his search.” “Why, gentlemen,” answered Mr. Pomponius, rising and speaking very slowly, and sometimes stopping to look round upon the company, as if to excite them to think, “ I have great diffi- culty in relating to you what I have observed. You know it is my business to open the door of the archives’ chamber for the doctor’s entrance in the morning, and to close it at night. It might be supposed that some intimacy would have grown up between the doctor and myself, from seeing each other so fre- quently. That, however, was not the fact. The doctor never seemed in a talking mood when I met him. He seemed buried in the parchments ; and I found it so hard to extract a sensible word from him, that I gave up the trial. Thus we never ex- changed more than a few formal courtesies; or, rather, I had to utter them — for very often he seemed too absent to respond. How, within the last few weeks, his conduct has greatly altered. At first, I took his sudden asking of questions to be but a new eccentricity. But seriously, gentlemen, I think there is some purpose, some particular design, in these questions now. And these questions he now renews every evening — or, I should have said — this question ; for I invariably discover that, let him start as wide of the mark as he may, he comes to this question : ‘ When I find the Deed, what sum will the corporation award me for the discovery?’ Sometimes he puts this question in one form, sometimes in another; or he enlarges on the labour, the industry, the learning, and so on, necessary for completing the search. I regret to say, too, that the officer who attends on the doctor reports that hours pass away and no search is made : the doctor is so often absent. The man only told me this to-day. Of course it will be my duty to state this — or, rather, his wor- ship’s — to the full council” — and just as Mr. Pomponius had bowed to the mayor, he concluded, and sat down. Mr. Pomponius sat looking at the fire, his lips compressed 110 ALDERMAN RALPH. very closely, and twirling one of the buttons of his coat in a very thoughtful way. The rest of the company were equally thoughtful. Mr. Ralph was some time before he spoke. “ Could you undertake to say, Mr. Pratewell,” he asked very slowly, and in a low tone, “ that the doctor is sane ? He disap- peared from my house, I am told, very suddenly and strangely; and he has never called upon me, nor, indeed, has he ever been in my house since he left it. Is it not possible that his assiduous search has somewhat disturbed his mind?” “ Certainly, sir, that is possible,” returned the town-clerk, very politely ; “ but I do not think the doctor talks like a deranged man. There is less appearance of derangement about him now, I should say, than when he first offered us his services.” “ W ould it not be well for each of us to visit him, and make our observations as to his behaviour?” suddenly asked the little apothecary. “ A very intelligent proposition, Mr. Poundsmall,” said the senior alderman. “ Yes, a very sharp thought,” said Jerry Dimple. “ Capital ! ” said the mayor and Siftall, together. Mr. Gervase fidgeted, and stroked his chin. “ And may I beg that Mr. Poundsmall will look in upon the doctor to-morrow ? ” — Mr. Gervase bowed to Mr. Ralph. — “ I think it would not be well for us to go together, or all on the same day; and I would rather go last, as I wish to give the doctor time to call upon me, if he should have forgot himself,” concluded Mr. Ralph. It was arranged that Mr. Gervase should lead, as Mr. Ralph had suggested ; that the mayor should follow ; and that, on suc- ceeding days, visits should be made to the parchments-chamber by Mark Siftall and J erry Dimple : Mr. Ralph to be the last visiter, if the learned Dingyleaf did not call on him before. A confused conversation respecting the scholar lasted till the chimes rang out “ The old woman a-quaking ;” and since the conversers agreed, that they could make nothing more of the case without ALDERMAN RALPH. Ill more evidence, they separated — leaving Peter Weatherwake by the fireside, the old man having observed that he would “ just smoke his pipe out before he went.” “ Neighbour Dimple,” said he to Jerry, a few minutes after the company had gone, “ I did not say much while they were talking.” “ You didn’t,” said Jerry, with a nod, and a very attentive look. “ You know I didn’t think it would look well. But I may say a word to you, neighbour Dimple — and you’ll let it go no further 1 ?” J erry vowed he would be secret. “ Then, mark my words,” said the ancient mariner, sharply knocking the ashes out of his meerschaum, unjointing it, and putting it in his pocket ; “ there’s more in this than some folks think. This high larnt doctor will be found to be as big a rogue as the lawyer. And, if they don’t both come to the gallows, they’ll have a narrow escape for their necks! Good-night, neighbour Dimple.” The old man was gone like a shot; and Jerry sat like a shot man. “ Th’ old man’s parlous deep ! — wonderful deep ! — but what makes him say this? — I can’t make it out,” Jerry was saying to himself; but his wife with the bed-candle appeared at the door, and again destroyed his soliloquy. 112 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER III. Threap extracts the Secret from the great Scholar of the four Pronomina; has that Personage in his bad power; and plans his crowning Yillanies. Dingyleaf had become a thorough rascal, and a most miserable one. He might disguise it to Hugh Plombline ; and Mr. Pom- ponius had no strong suspicion of it. But, in the presence of a master in the art, he was soon unmasked. Threap not only penetrated his secret, but charged him with the guilty fact direct. “ This is the seventh time you have put that question to me, doctor,” said the lawyer, as they sat together after one of their Sunday dinners ; “ and, since you know that nobody can do the business for you but myself, give the Deed at once into my hands, and I’ll soon give you a substantial answer.” “ Give you the Deed ! ” exclaimed Dingyleaf, turning ash colour, and trembling till he nearly spilt all the sherry out of the glass he was about to lift to his lips. “ Doctor ! ” said the lawyer, transfixing the great scholar with one of the gleamy looks which had so often tortured the baronet. Dingyleaf struggled under its effect ; but he sat gasping, and unable to speak. “ You’ve found it,” said Threap ; and, sinking his voice, added with a heavy oath, “ and it will send you over the herring-pond for life, unless you put yourself fully into my hands, and I help you out with it.” “ I — I — I — haven’t ! ” gasped Dingyleaf. “Then, what the devil ails you?” “ I’m — I’m — not well.” “ Go home, then, and go to bed ! ” said Threap rising, but still ALDERMAN RALPH. 113 keeping his basilisk eyes on his guest ; “ if it’s only a stomach- qualm, you’ll get the better of it after a sleep.” Dingyleaf was helpless in his terror, and did not move. Threap sat down again, and shuffled his chair close to the scholar. “ Doctor,” he began gravely, and then changed his tone to persuasion, “ I know, from your looks and speech during some weeks past, that you have found the Deed. You have been concealing it, and that is a crime in the eye of the law ; and you know it. Now, if you were silly enough to go post haste and give it up, I could and would — mark me ! — I could and would bring you not only into trouble, but disgrace, for concealing it so long, and prevent you from getting a shilling for your search. You’ll not do that. I know you won’t. You will see it to be wiser to trust me : to trust me thoroughly. Demember, I risk my own reputation by joining you to conceal the fact that the Deed is discovered. Once make me your confidant, and my danger is as great as yours ; so that you need not fear that I shall betray you. I have been your friend : I will be your friend — but you must trust me. I can get you a sum that you little expect to get.” “ How much'?” asked Dingyleaf, relapsing out of his terror into his avaricious eagerness. “ More than I could name — But fill up your glass, doctor, and let me see you look cheerful! come, your hand! You trust me, now?” “ I will — I do,” answered Dingyleaf, with a miserable look, and accepting the lawyer’s hand: “ You think we shall be safe?” “ Safe! who’s to harm us? You have the Deed safe?” Dingyleaf had nearly said “ Yes,” but the word stuck in his throat; and he looked more miserable than ever. “ Y ery well, doctor — very well ! ” said Threap, speaking between his teeth, and throwing so fell a meaning into his look, that the weaker villain trembled ; “ you don’t trust me. Y ery well — very well, doctor ! ” VOL. II. i 114 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ I will — I will — trust you,” cried the scholar; the sweat standing on his face ; “ hut — but — I’ll not — I’ll not give you the Deed.” “ W ell, well, doctor ! ” said Threap, with such a sudden change into cheerfulness that Dingyleaf felt almost like a man hearing his reprieve from a capital sentence, “ you shall keep it. I’ll not ask to take it out of your hand. Indeed ’tis most proper you should keep it yourself. I quite agree to that, doctor. Come, that’s a bargain, doctor. You shall keep the Deed. It’s perfectly right that you should. Another glass, doctor! Here’s to ye!” “ Thank ye ! same to you ! ” and Dingyleaf gulped the sherry eagerly. “ Of course, you’ll let me see the old parchment : you can have no objection to that?” hinted Threap. “ I will — I will ! You shall see it,” stammered the scholar, but looked as if he were dropping back into the terrorstruck condition. “ I’ve given that hint too soon,” thought Threap ; “ I must draw him more mildly on, or the fish will be off my hook yet. Doctor,” he said aloud, and clapped Dingjdeaf on the thigh, “ how devilish sly you thought yourself! Ha, ha ! come, push the bottle ! ” The scholar did push the bottle; and Threap grew gay, and laughed and joked till Dingyleaf caught some of the gay humour, and partook more unsparingly of Threap’s wine than he had been willing to do for several Sundays bygone. At the end of another hour, Threap had no need to ask for a sight of the parchment. Dingyleaf unbuttoned his waistcoat and produced it — first having entreated Threap to lock the door of the room in which they sat. Threap could not have read the writing, unless he had followed the scholar’s reading. He had thoughts more fell than his looks while that old parchment lay on the table ; but he quelled them, and reproached himself for rashness in that he had indulged them one moment — that afternoon. " Put it up again, doctor,” he said ; “ I see it will be perfectly safe in your keeping : that was all I had feared — that you might ALDERMAN RALPH. 115 not take care of it;” and, so soon as Dingyleaf had placed the parchment in its curious hiding-place, Threap unlocked the room- door, and trampled down his fell thoughts. The afternoon sped on, and Threap noted that, although Dingy- leaf drank a great deal of wine, he remained compos mentis. “ I see he is full of uneasiness,” said Threap to himself ; “ it reaches to his very backbone : the wine will not take hold of him. Doctor, you must hold your head up,” he said audibly ; “ there is not a particle of cause for fear. I shall bring this matter to such a conclusion as shall make you a proud and happy man, as long as you live. Don’t make a trouble of it, doctor. I’ll take all the trouble.” “ But — but — I’ve another trouble,” stammered Dingyleaf. “ Another trouble!” exclaimed the lawyer, half in alarm and half curiously ; “ what can that be, doctor ? If it be in my power, I swear I’ll help you out of it. “ It’s — it’s — a great secret,” said the scholar ; and he looked so maudlin and rueful by this time, that his face was provocative of laughter. “ You had better tell it to me than to another person, then. It is foolish to have many secret keepers,” observed Threap, biting his lips. “ There’s a woman in the case,” confessed the man of learning, with the tears bursting forth. “ Oh, oh, oh ! ” cried the lawyer, and laughed till the room rang again. Dingyleaf continued to look grim, and the lawyer continued to laugh. The conversation, when it was renewed, unfolded the sad story of Betty Brown ; and no more of it need be related here. Suffice it to say, that Threap undertook to provide a tem- porary asylum for the fallen one at Hykin Noddlepate’s; and, in consequence of that conversation, Betty removed to the wooden-legged fiddler’s, as already related. How Threap reflected, that the discovery and concealment of the discovery of the Bridge Deed by the scholar, were facts of 116 ALDERMAN RALPH. so much importance as to require a good deal of thought on his part, if he meant to turn them, without failure, to his own ac- count. Murderous thoughts were becoming familiar to his mind, the consequence of his excesses in vice of the foulest kinds, and the exasperating defeat of some of his basest projects. He could have strangled Dingyleaf without pity, had he thought that would have enabled him most securely to possess himself of the Deed. When that thought was laid aside, as involving too much hazard, he turned to the idea of robbery. It was exciting and pleasing to the lawyer’s depraved mind .for there was adventure in it; and he dwelt with a demoniac delight on the madness it would create in the brain of the disappointed Dingyleaf. Threap pictured to himself the ravings of the great scholar, till he rubbed his hands, and burst into yells of fiendish laughter. At length his cunning prevailed over his gust for wicked adventure. He reflected that the baronet would not buy the parchment unless Dingyleaf produced it, and also affirmed to the corporation that it was not to be found among their archives. Sir Nigel must be made safe, or he would not buy : he would have wit enough to reject the proposal to purchase under any other conditions. If he, Threap, offered the Deed to the baronet, it might be rejected as a forgery : its production by the discoverer could alone stamp its genuineness; and its destruction also by the discoverer, and before Sir Nigel’s eyes, could alone make the purchasing party safe. The roguish scholar might be robbed afterwards, or be made to give up a good portion of his gains by fright. But he must be used, he must be made to do the guiltiest part of the business, and the sale must be completed before he disgorged. Threap turned all this over, again and again, within himself; and some days elapsed before he determined to write and bring Sir Nigel Nickem to a parley. Thrice the lawyer sat down and began to pen a note to the baronet ; and thrice he desisted. “ I hardly know what ails me in this matter,” he said to him- self; “ but it is a devilish tickle affair. What if Sir Nigel should ALDERMAN RALPH. 117 repulse me, and refuse to have any thing to do with such a black job? He may have grown squeamish since this marriage is made up — as they say it is — between himself and Pevensey’s sister. Pevensey is worth a deal of money, and may have promised to help the poor devil out of his hobbles. Yet he is so infernally over head and ears, that I should think he dare not tell Pevensey the truth. And if Pevensey be fool enough to let him marry the woman before knowing his pecuniary condition, the revelation of his poverty afterwards would damn him. Ho : I can’t think he would refuse if I were to try him. Here goes, once more ! ” But the hand grew numb again ! Threap could not finish the note ! He uttered a bitter curse, tore up the paper, and banged down the lid of his writing-desk, with oath upon oath, and then rushed out into his orchard. Dread Conscience ! it was thy last paralysing stroke at that man ! He has effectually burst thy bonds now ! He will hear the still small voice no more ! Even he, with all his relish for sin, has found it hard to silence and slay thee; but he has now done it effectually. That hour’s communion with all the demons of his own heart and mind, has given the crowning finish to his guilty resolves. He sees how it all may be done! — how the great iniquity will aid all his other schemes of baseness — how his grand client may be fully persuaded — what parts Plombline and Backstitch must and shall play — and how he will triumph at last, by revenging himself upon the baronet, and making fools of all the rest ! “ And what then ? what is to follow when thou hast filled up the measure of thy iniquity?” Did Conscience ask that question? did it thrill through his soul? Ho : he had effectually silenced her. And now he strode out of his orchard into his study with a firm step, and dashed off a note to Sir Higel Hickem without a single quiver of hesitation. If his evil eyes had met Dingyleaf’s or the baronet’s while he was so engaged, the scholar would have been in danger of a swoon; and the glance would have blanched the cheek of the man of title. 118 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER IV. The Author attempts to show that Jack Jigg possesses the soul of a Gentle- man ; but introduces him into very questionable Company. Will my reader believe that thou art a true gentleman, my honest minstrel? that thou who hast led but a vagabond kind of life until thou wert kindly trepanned into that garden — who wast never taught deportment, etiquette, or courtesy, and hast so often met with harshness — art, nevertheless, a man of yearn- ing pity for the fallen, and of right chivalrous will and resolve to rescue the distressed? Will it be believed that thou, so utterly untaught in the humanities of schools and colleges, canst abjure the thought of ill-will towards thy lowest, basest foe, and in- trepidly risk the contamination of his presence, if, peradventure, thou canst by so doing bring relief to the dejected, restoration to the degraded and ruined? Yet thou art such a man; as lightly as some may esteem thee! “Davy, my good lad,” said Jack Jigg to his trusty young friend, as the boy came up one morning to look at his gardening, “ I was wanting to see thee. Thou must go on a particular errand for me.” “ To be sure I will, Jack,” said Davy eagerly; “what is it, and where is it to?” “It is to Betty, who left Alderman Ralph’s so suddenly.” “But where is she, Jack? Do you know?” “She is at old Nykin Noddlepate’s, Davy.” “You don’t wish me to go near that old wretch, Jack! I hate the sight of him. Indeed, I don’t like Betty Brown either. What is she doing at old Nykin’s? I was afraid there was some badness or other made her leave so good a place in such a strange ALDERMAN RALPH. 119 skulking way. You don’t mean what you said, Jack 1 ? You can’t wish me to go there?” Jack stood resting his hand on his spade, and looking sadly at Davy, feeling really puzzled how to communicate his wishes to the hoy, and hesitating whether he should venture to send one so young into such a haunt of vice. “I hardly know what to say to thee, Davy,” he answered slowly; “ if you saw a dog fast in a trap, howling with pain, and knew that he must die for hunger if somebody did not let him out — wouldn’t you release him?” “He’d bite my fingers off, may be; and I might not be able to unloose him if I tried. ” “ But wouldn’t you pity the poor creature, if he was suffering?” “ Why, yes, I should, J ack. I can’t deny that. ” “ Then, if you would pity a dog in such a case, ought you not to pity poor Betty, who has gone wrong, Davy ; and I fear will be ruined altogether if somebody does not try to get her away from old Hykin’s?” “She shouldn’t have gone wrong, Jack. She is not to be likened to a dog getting into a trap. She knew better than to go wrong, and a dog doesn’t. For all you’ve a head like an almanac, you’re out this time, Jack.” “But Davy, my good lad, it isn’t a matter for joking; and something must be done to save poor Betty. You really must go. You need only say a few words to her, and come away at once. ” “Well, I’ll go, since she’s in such trouble; and since you so very much wish me to go, Jack.” “Then go immediately, Davy, and tell her, without being overheard — take care of that! — that if she needs a friend, she may depend on me, at any hour, night or day; and that I’ve spoken to my wife about her, and she may come and stay at our house, if she likes, until she gets through her trouble. Make her understand that I’m her friend, Davy; and tell her, if she wishes it, I’ll come and see her.” 120 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ I think you’d better not do that, Jack. I would not go near old Hykin’s if I were you. But, however, since you desire it, 111 take your message” — and away went Davy Drudge. He was not long in returning, and quickly gave the result of his errand to his friend. “She says she is obliged to you, Jack,” he began, “and she wishes you would go and see her to-night. But it’s a queer place ; and I wish you may be safe in going. Old Nykin looked at me with an evil eye, although he kept playing his fiddle to a crew of dancing beggars — for they could be nought else, they were so ragged and dirty. Six or seven of ’em, there must have been; and they seemed to be nearly drunk, and shouted and whooped like so many mad things. Betty went out with me into the back-yard, or we could not have heard ourselves speak.” “How does she look, Davy?” asked the fiddler. “ As miserable as sin, ” replied the old-fashioned lad, “ though she pretended to be as proud as ever. But I can see she isn’t. She’s too miserable to be proud, J ack. ” Jack looked hard at the natural philosopher, and told him to keep his errand a secret ; and Davy hastened away to attend to his duties in the house. Jack was detained at home by his wife and children till a later hour in the evening than he wished. It was nine at night be- fore he could reach the door of old Hykin’s dwelling; and his heart almost misgave him when he heard the sounds of revelry, mingled with brawling, within. He knocked loudly and in haste, fearful that his resolution might melt away with thinking. The door was quickly opened by his wooden-legged enemy in person ; and, at that moment, he wished he had not ventured. Nykin gave him no time to think now. “Come in,” he said, seizing Jack’s arm, drawing our minstrel over the threshold, and closing the door, almost in a second ; “ this is generous, J ack ! I’ve wanted us to be friends a long time. Give us your hand” — and he seized it in his gripe, and ALDERMAN RALPH. 121 shook it with an appearance of overjoyed eagerness — “ I’m heartily sorry for what I did in the past, J ack ; and what can a man say more? Silence, yon blackguards!” he cried, with a foul execration, to a company of four ragged Irish who were quarrel- ling, as they sat crouched on the floor ki the corner nearest the fire — “Stop that din!” he commanded, with an oath, to another ragged crew of half a dozen, who were bawling some terrific ditty in chorus — “ Sit down, Jack, and lay hold!” he concluded, seizing a tankard of malt liquor which stood upon a three-legged table in the middle of the wretched room, and thrusting it towards Jack’s hand. “Ho, I’ll not drink, thank ye,” said Jack. “D’ye bear me malice, then?” retorted Hykin. “Ho, indeed I don’t,” answered Jack; “I haven’t a spark of malice against any man or woman alive. But I don’t feel inclined to drink.” “ Then yer malicious, ye thafe ! ” cried one of the Irish ; and the whole ragged crew were soon around Jack. “Yer a wolf in shape’s garments!” cried another. “ Curse yer sowl ! what for did ye come in here now, craping like a sarpint?” yelled another. J ack sprang to his feet — for he had sat, or rather sunk down, into a chair, at Hykin’s bidding. Our minstrel had been in many a wild scene of English revelry; but he had never com- panied with such a forbidding-looking crew as that which now surrounded him. “ What’s the meaning of all this, Hykin?” he demanded, pluck- ing up his courage. But before the wooden-legged fiddler could answer, an inner door was flung open, and Betty Brown burst into the room. “ Stand off, you brutes ! ” cried Hykin, striking among the Irish with his left hand, and spilling the ale from the tankard in his right; “who asked you to meddle?” “ Why did you let them meddle at all?” demanded Betty, haughtily; “did you not promise to bring Jack up-stairs th e 122 ALDERMAN RALPH. moment lie came? Why have yon kept him here to insult him? ” Nykin coloured, and protested with an oath that it was not his fault: he had only asked Jack Jigg to sip at the tankard, just to show that there j^as no malice between them. “ Jack will have no objection to that, I dare say,” said Betty, giving J ack a peculiar look. “No, I’ve no objection, if it be merely for that,” said Jack; and accordingly took the tankard from Nykin’s hand, nodded, and said “ Your health,” and slightly drank. Nykin would again have pressed the ceremony of shaking hands; but Betty Brown stopped him, saying, — “ J ack must come up-stairs with me — or, perhaps, we had better step outside the door” — “Not there!” said Nykin, setting his back against the door quickly. Jack could see the fiend rising in his old foe’s face; and the Irish, who had relapsed into their own personal quarrels, were pricking up their ears, and looking ready to rejoin Nykin. Jack glanced at the girl. “Well, up-stairs then,” said she; and Jack followed her, as she turned away. The door closed upon them, and J ack climbed a dark staircase, still following Betty. They entered a squalid chamber, in which there was a fire contained in a very narrow grate. Jack had scarcely patience to look round and take note of the mean and scanty furniture; though he observed that there was a coarse- looking bed in the room. “ Betty,” he said, “ I can’t stay in this vile place to say much. I pity you from my heart; and, though you’ve done wrong, I’ll do my best to help you for your poor old mother’s sake, as well as your own. You must come away from this den of iniquity. Martha will make you as comfortable as she can at our house. Can’t you come to-night? Have you much to bring with you; Can’t I carry it?” — but Jack stopped, although so eager, struck ALDERMAN RALPH. 123 with the way in which the girl held up her head, and seemed to mock his impatience. “ This place is vile enough, Jack,” she answered slowly; “but I shall not leave it at present, either. All that I have to ask of you is — that you come here and see me, .as often as I ask you to come. I'll make it worth your while, some day.” Our minstrel stood gazing at the girl stupidly, and did not answer. “Will you promise me, Jack'?” she asked, when she had waited till she was impatient in turn. “ Betty, these lofty airs will not do with me,” said the fiddler at last ; “ they’ve been the ruin of you already, and you’d better give ’em up.” “ Jack Jigg, you don’t know what you are talking about,” said the girl, with such a look as astonished her visiter ; “ you must not remain here one minute longer, for a reason that I need not tell. I ask you for the last time — Will you come here when I wish you to come? Speak ! ” she said, and moved towards the stairs. “ Yes,” Jack answered. “ Then, remember, you are to be here to-morrow night by seven o’clock at the latest. Come along ! and be sure not to stay one minute in the house to-night ! ” and she hastened down-stairs. Jack followed; and succeeded in getting out of Nykin’s den, by the authority which Betty seemed to have over the wooden-legged fiddler, and he over the crew of revellers. “Thank God!” said Jack, uttering the words audibly, and drawing in a full breath of air, when he had escaped from the purlieus of that stronghold of sin. Neither Jack nor his wife, to whom he related his adventure under a charge of secresy, were able to comprehend the meaning of Betty Brown’s behaviour. Martha Jigg, indeed, would have set it down to Betty’s silly pride at once; but Jack checked her. “Nay, nay, Martha, my lass,” he said; “she’s not a fool, although she has yielded to folly. She was always a deuced 124 ALDERMAN RALPH. pawky jade. There’s some mystery in this. I shall go again to see her — though I don’t like to go near such a hell-hole as she is in. I must ferret it out.” J ack fell asleep with that resolution, after trying in vain to alight on a probable solution to the new riddle, by guessing. ALDERMAN RALPH. 125 CHAPTER Y. Another scene in Willowacre church: good and bad Thoughts of some among the Congregation : Sir Nigel proposes to Alice, and is accepted. It is the happiest day she has ever known in her life, sweet May thinks ! She is once more at church, by the side of her noble uncle ; and she has reciprocated just one delicious love-look of Gilbert Pevensey. May did not exchange another look with Gilbert till the congregation were breaking up; and yet she did not fix her eyes in timid abstraction on the unturned page of her prayer-book, as heretofore. May turns over the leaves, and throws her grateful heart into devotion, now. Mr. Ralph himself is not more thankful than is his lovely niece for his recovery. In the pew of the senior alderman there is real devotion, save in the breast of poor Edgar Tichbome. Edgar had not been at church for some time previous to that Sunday. He insisted on rendering all possible help to May during her uncle’s sickness ; and alleged that as an excuse for neglecting to go to church. But there was a stronger reason : Alice had changed her seat in her brother’s pew, and, week after week, sat or stood with her back towards Edgar Tichborne. The youth could not obtain a single glance of recognition from her, and sometimes not even a sight of her face. Edgar had, therefore, discontinued his attendance at church for many weeks past, from mere mortification. In the mean time, Alice had resumed her old seat as being more convenient than the new one; and she and the baronet now faced Edgar, and also May and Mr. Ralph. Edgar could not forbear stealing glances at Alice, again and again; and they only 126 ALDERMAN RALPH. served to increase his misery. He wished he had not gone to church : he inwardly vowed he would not go again. Alice Pevensey saw that Edgar followed May and Mr. Palph into their pew; hut she would not look at the youth, and would again have changed her seat had not May been in the church. To Gilbert, the presence of May was delightful; and, in spite of existing difficulties, he could not yield to the fear that there would be any lasting bar to their union. Mr. Palph looked so noble and generous, and he was evidently so devout and grateful, and so utterly free from vindictive thoughts and feelings, that Gilbert internally pronounced it impossible for such a man to stand in the way of May’s happiness, when he should learn where her affections were placed. Sir Nigel Nickem beheld that picture of loveliness which he had only once beheld before; and, if it had not been for the presence of Alice, he would have gazed upon it in defiance of every other eye in the congregation. It was a sore restraint that he felt himself compelled to practise. He knew he could not escape the observation of Alice; and after the first gaze at May Silverton, as she entered the pew with her uncle, Sir Nigel refused to indulge his eyes with that picture again. Thought was indulged, nevertheless : thought more base and treacherous than any human being in that congregation could have suspected to be weaving its destructive web within the brain of that fair and seeming man of title. Could May have imagined it, it would have filled her with horror; and had Mr. Palph known of its existence, he would have cursed the man for whom he was now devoutly praying that he might never more feel a spark of ill will. Alderman Palph’s presence at church was a source of varied feelings to many. To the aged vicar and the Wheat Sheaf parlour friends it gave joy, while to Plombline and Backstitch it caused bitter mortification : they would much rather have listened to the reading of the burial service while the coffin of the senior alderman stood in the aisle. ALDERMAN RALPH. 127 None were so glad when the morning service ended as Sir Nigel Nickem and Alice Pevensey. Their experience at church that morning, though so different in character, had a like effect on both. They each felt it was time that something was decided as to the relation in which they were to stand to each other in future. The baronet saw, that if he meant to accomplish all his dishonourable purposes, he must first secure a union with Alice. And Alice discerned that, to escape from the misery of a divided affection, she must come to some irrevocable de- cision. Sir Nigel contrived to shun Pevensey, soon after they returned to Lovesoup House, and to join Alice in the garden. It wanted an hour to dinner-time, and the baronet had fully girt up his resolution to devote the hour to an unreserved effort for winning Alice, unless she absolutely forbade him to proceed. But she did not. She listened with such manifest willingness, that he grew half-afraid she was but encouraging his professions to reject them summarily. He became less fervent than he had purposed to be, lest she should turn and deride him for renew- ing the old romance, as she had done before. He wooed her coolly; but with such an air of thoughtfulness — dwelling on her intellectual qualities, and her fitness for the circles in which she must move — as enabled him much easier to win her consent. Had he professed warm affection, she would not have believed him. Bespectful regard, and preference for her as an intelligent and accomplished woman, she had come to believe he did enter- tain ; and, since these were his themes, he succeeded. She did not give an absolute consent ; but gave him leave to introduce the subject of their union to her brother. Vfhen urged a little more, she agreed that he should do so that afternoon. Sir Nigel asked for no more. He seized her hand and kissed it; but he made no greater show of rapture. He had now watched Alice so closely, that he saw she must be proudly as well as cautiously won ; and so repressed the vehemence of his satisfaction, and conducted himself towards Alice, at dinner, with 128 ALDERMAN KALPH. only a very little more tenderness than usual. When Alice had retired, he gradually broached his project to her brother. “ My sojourn with you has been very long, Gilbert,” he said. “ I know your kindness ; but I really cannot help thinking it will be a relief to you, when I leave you to take my seat in Parliament.” “ Then you will not believe me,” said Gilbert, with a slight laugh, “ when I tell you that I wish it wanted fourteen months, instead of so many days, to the meeting of their Wisdoms, since that is to take you away from us.” “ Why, you would lengthen out my stay till it became as long as the history of a siege.” “ Many sieges have been long, you know, Nigel,” observed Pevensey, with a quick look, “ and they have had to be raised too. But, then, the persevering captain has sometimes returned and carried the prize by a renewed assault.” “ But it is considered more illustrious in the warrior to persevere until the besieged consents to a capitulation ; is it not, Gilbert?” Pevensey’s face brightened ; and he looked full of inquiry at his valued and honoured friend. “ Gilbert,” continued the baronet, looking very fraternal, and speaking with great apparent emotion, “ I have permission to introduce a very tender topic to you. Alice consents that I ask your approval of our union.” “ My dear Nigel,” answered Gilbert, the tear in his eye while he grasped the baronet by the hand, “ you had it before you asked it.” “ It will be my happiness then, in future, to call you 1 brother,’ as well as ‘ friend,’ my dear Gilbert.” Gilbert could not answer for real emotion; and Sir Nigel feared he should laugh if he acted longer, so he threw off the affectation of tenderness, and proposed that they should be merry. Gilbert’s heart met the proposal, bumpers were quaffed to the health of Alice, and the two friends seemed rapidly ap- ALDERMAN RALPH. 129 proaching a state of exhilaration : Gilbert evidently leading the race. The conversation was decidedly “free and easy.” It ran back to the Past, it darted forward to the Future, it ran round in a circle, it struck off at a tangent, it left the subject, it came back to it — that is to say, either to the wine or the wedding. It could not be said that the great forthcoming event was fully arranged. The remembrance that there the lady’s will must be consulted, often brought the arrangers to a halt, or rather to a renewed attack on the wine-bottle. But sundry items of supposed arrangement were made. Such as, that the marriage should take place with as little delay as possible; that if the lady demurred to a “ forthwith,” Sir Nigel should leave the Commons to get on as well as they could without him, and come back to Willowacre to be married, so soon as ever the lady would consent; that if the lady disliked going down to Sir Nigel’s seat in Cornwall, Sir Nigel would transfer his establishment to the neighbourhood of Willowacre ; that the lady should be very often with her brother, and Sir Nigel with his brother-in-law. How palpably certain and near, how pleasurable for long long years to come, it all looked to Gilbert ! His imagination, warmed with wine and fondness, could see the little Nickems, romping visiters at Lovesoup House, and calling him “ Uncle Pevensey.” Would they be mingling with the little Pevenseys, calling on their aunt and uncle Nickem to join in the romp? Pevensey’s inner man was now in the diluent state: he was no longer reticent. “ Nigel, you are about to be happy — but I — I” — Sir Nigel instantly recalled the memory of a droll scene they had together witnessed abroad, and Gilbert was diverted. Some ten minutes after, Pevensey’s heart-sluices were again giving way. “ Nigel, you will be a happy fellow — if I could be” — The baronet made a dash at some of the risible events of the late election, and Gilbert and he laughed loud and long. But again there was a relapse. “ I know a little girl with whom happiness would be” — VOL. II. K 130 ALDERMAN RALPH. Sir Nigel would not know any thing about Gilbert’s little girl. He suddenly proposed that they should ride: his head was becoming painful : Gilbert and he would suffer from excite- ment : it was foolish to take so much wine. Gilbert yielded ; and the horses were ordered to be saddled and brought to the door without delay. Sir Nigel Nickem kept Gilbert at trot and sometimes at gallop for the next hour. Tea and Alice were waiting at their return; and Sir Nigel took care that there was no going back to the bottle, and no recurrence to confidential matters, that night. BOOK X. $0jjrmn asm anil anteirnrir JHisfartant nnrrtate mtr MmM, anil iljr lamp mate a rupiit striire in Hillaimj. ALDERMAN RALPH. 133 BOOK X. CHAPTER I. A notable Piece of Philosophy on “Presentiments:” Jack pays a Second Visit to Betty Brown, and thinks himself exceedingly well treated by Nykin and company. Presentiments — the reader will laugh at, if he be one of the wondrous-Present- Age, or marvellous-Ninteenth-Century people. None but zanies or old women, he will say, are ever heard, now- adays, to talk about presentiments. There are no presentiments, says he; there never were any; there never will be any; there never can be any. You know nothing about it, say I. How is it possible? he will say. How is it not possible? I say. He cannot answer my question. But, can I answer his? No. So then the world will be no wiser for our dispute. Is the world ever the wiser for disputes? and, if not, what is the use of disputes? Sir, Miss, or Madam, I shall not be drawn into a dispute by attempting to answer either of those insidious questions; but, instead thereof, I insist upon asking — What is the use of presentiments ? If a mysterious something whispers a mysterious something else within our other mysterious something, that a mysterious something will come to pass if we do a something — and we, not- withstanding, do that something, and something comes to pass; — why then, most irrefragably, the mysterious something or pre - sentiment was of no use to us. I say, of no manner of use in the world. For, if we wring our hands, and cry, “ I had a 134 ALDERMAN RALPH. presentiment, but — wilful wretch that I was — I would not be warned ! do we not prove that the presentiment was of no use to us? Secondly : If a mysterious something whispers, &c. &c. &c. will come to pass if we do a something, — and we, in consequence, do not that something, and nothing comes to pass; — why then, still more irrefragably, the mysterious something or presentiment was of no use to us. I say, again, of no manner of use in the world. For, if we strike our foreheads, and cry, “ I have lost the oppor- tunity of doing what I wished to do — merely from imagining that I had a presentiment against it — like a fool that I was?” — do we not prove that we are fools, and that the presentiment was no presentiment at all, and therefore of no use to us? Sound logic, the author knows, he has just brought forth; and yet he hesitates to pronounce it in good taste, because he must immediately return to the minstrel, Jack Jigg, whom he much respects ; and, it so happens, that J ack was as prone to entertain presentiments as Peter Weather wake or Jerry Dimple. “ Drat it, Martha, I don’t like to go again to that foul den this blessed Sunday night,” said the fiddler-gardener to his wife, though, all the while, he was putting on his hat, and moving towards the door ; “ I feel so queer about it, that I think some’at will happen.” “Then, for goodness’ sake, Jack, don’t go!” said Martha; “ you made my heart turn over with saying so ; and I’m sure that’s no sign o’ good. Stay at home, and let Betty Brown lie on the bed that she has made for herself. She should have minded better, and not got into trouble.” “Why, as for that, Martha, you know we all should mind better than to do some things that we do ; for we all do wrong things. And if we all were left to lie on the bed of trouble that we make for ourselves, and nobody pitied us, some of us would be in a poor case.” “ Ay, that’s the way you always talk, J ack ; and yet that’s you that says you don’t like to fish in troubled water.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 135 “No more I do, Martha. I think I’ll not go” — and Jack withdrew his hand from the door- latch, took off his hat and hung it on the peg in the corner, and sat down in his arm-chair by the fireside. The husband sat silent and mused, but felt vexed at himself for his superstition; and yet felt too much ashamed to display the weakness of changing his mind again. The wife seemed to be absorbed in the prattle of her children ; but did not know one word of what they were saying, for she was swelling with curiosity about Betty Brown. “I wonder what she means, Jack! It seems very strange,” she said, at length, unable to keep her curiosity down. “ That’s what I’m thinking about,” said Jack; “it’s something very particular, depend upon it— for she’s as cunning as Come-out.” “ One would like to know what it is,” hinted Martha. “Confound it! I’ll e’en venture,” said Jack, starting up and rushing to his hat ; “ it’s only weakness to be frightened at one doesn’t know what.” “Take care o’ yoursen, Jack!” cried Martha, as her husband opened the door, “ and don’t stay long.” “ Ay, ay, I’ll mind that,” said J ack ; and away he went. Much to Jack’s satisfaction, there was no noise within as he approached old Nykin’s door. They were not quite heathen brutes, these Irish; they had some reverence for Sunday — he thought. And J ack knocked without feeling any return of his presentiment. The door was opened by the wooden-legged fiddler, as before; and he very civilly bade Jack enter. Three of the ragged Irish sat on the floor, near the fire, each smoking a short dirty pipe; but they were quiet, and seemed scarcely to notice Jack’s entrance. “You’ll go up-stairs, Jack, I suppose?” said Nykin, in the same civil tone. “ If you please,” J ack answered ; and the other immediately took a tallow candle from the three-legged table and lighted Jack up the stairs. Betty Brown opened the door above, so soon as our minstrel 136 ALDERMAN RALPH. set his foot on the lowest stair; and Jack was soon closeted with Betty, as before. She invited Jack, this time, to sit down; and he now observed that there were but two very mean chairs in the room. “ Never mind the look of this place, Jack,” the girl began quickly, as she noted that her visiter was scrutinising the apart- ment; “ it is only for a time that I shall stay in it.” “ But why should you stay in it at all ! ” reasoned Jack; “ why should you not go away with me to-night?” “Why I shall stay here for a time, I shall not tell you to-night,” replied Betty, and with a look of such confidence and mysterious strength of meaning, that it paralysed her hearer as much as before ; “ but, understand — and don’t let it alarm you, for it does not alarm me — I could not go away with you to-night, if I would.” “ J ust what I thought,” said J ack, and his face fell ; “ I thought you were a prisoner when old Nykin set his back against the door, last night.” “ But I’m not a prisoner when I choose to go,” said the girl, in the same marked tone; “ I want youd;o understand that, and yet I want to make sure of your help when the time comes. You will promise me that, Jack?” “ I’ll promise to give you any help that can bring you out of trouble, if it be in my power; but I can’t understand why you wish to remain here.” “I have my reasons, Jack; but never mind them now. Will you be so kind as to come to me again to-morrow night, about eight? I will make you amends some day, to your heart’s content, if you will serve me.” “ Betty, I can’t understand what you mean, or how you are to make me amends. I want no amends-making. I would much rather hear you talk in a rational way, and be helping you to get out of this place. Of course, I’ll be here without fail, if I’m alive, and have the use of my limbs and senses, to-morrow night at eight ; but I wish you would talk so that I could understand you.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 137 “You must not understand me at present, Jack. It is sufficient that I know what I am about. I shall be able to reward you; and you will see it. I am in possession of some- thing which makes me say what surprises you to hear now — but it will not surprise you one day. You will be here, faithfully, to-morrow night ? ” and Betty rose and moved towards the door. “ I will keep my promise,’’ answered J ack. “You need not stay long,” hinted the girl, before she opened the door ; “ but it may make things a little smoother, if you sit down and seem to be friendly, should Hykin ask you to do so : you need not stay long, you know?” Jack nodded, and bade her “good-night,” as she opened the door, and lighted him down the stairs. Hykin 1ST oddlepate opened the lower door, and with great appearance of heartiness pressed Jack to sit down as he re-entered the room where the Irish sat on the floor. Jack’s mind revolted, but he yielded, with the wish to serve the poor fallen girl. Yykin talked of the weather, and of the rumoured deaths and marriages in the town — in brief, of the current Willowacre news; and, after the lapse of some ten or fifteen minutes, rose up and took a bottle from the corner cupboard, set several small glasses on the three-legged table, filled them up with liquor from the bottle, and said — • “You’ll drink with us, Jack? We always have a sup in a quiet way on Sunday nights,” and Nykin handed one of the small filled glasses to Jack. Bemembering the offence given before by his refusal to drink, our minstrel thought it better to comply good-humouredly this time. Besides, the three Irishmen were sober and quiet ; and as they were taking their glasses, and Nykin had taken his, Jack felt that his refusal would look intentionally unsocial and offen- sive. He was pledged a health by ISTykin and the Irishmen, and he gave “ health ” in return. The taste of that liquor — Hollands gin — J ack had some peculiar reminiscenses stirred within him by it. He tasted again. Yes : it was the very flavour. He could not mistake it. Curious surmises ran through Jack’s brain. 138 ALDERMAN RALPH. Might not the rascally lawyer and the rascally wooden-legged fiddler have some connection yet, and might it not he cemented by supplies of this same Hollands gin ? J ack was about to taste again ; but the glass was empty. Nykin’s eyes, which you could scarcely see, they showed such a mere screed of pupil between the lids — were yet so quick that they had discerned the vacancy in Jack’s glass, and Nykin was at Jack’s side with the bottle, and had filled the glass before the holder could finish his remonstrance against it. Jack Jigg tasted again. To a certainty it was the same flavour: there was no denying it. Once more : yes, it was the very flavour, and no other. Why did Threap supply old Nykin with this liquor? Threap would not do that for nothing. In what way could this low fellow be serving the lawyer ? Jack thought he would like to find that out; but rebuked himself with the re- membrance that that might lead him to fish further in troubled water, and he had enough of that kind of amusement just now upon his hands. The reader knows that our minstrel was not taciturn, and therefore will not imagine that J ack was sitting in silence during O O O the half-hour which he had now spent in Nykin’s kitchen — hall, parlour, drawing-room — call it what you please! It was the room common to Nykin Noddlepate and all the raggedrout who lodged with him, and it served for all the purposes to which well- to-do people apply the rooms they designate by many names. Jack was thinking in the speculative way already indicated ; but at the same time — or somewhere about it — Jack was talking about other matters. I say, idiomatically, somewhere about it; for every author, like Yulcan, is but a lame sort of fabricator. Not one can pre- sent you with a facsimile of the handwriting of the mind — so electric, so evanescent, is its graphic process, even while the man is talking and doing ! Jack speculated on one subject silently, and talked on six or seven, meanwhile. His hearers could tell what he said ; but they knew not what he thought. They men- tioned the names of some people, and he was thinking about ALDERMAN RALPH. 139 other people, “ neither confounding the persons nor dividing the substance ” of what he was thinking about. I say, our minstrel was thus thinking and hearing and talking, and all so nearly at the same time, that I know no method sufficiently and minutely accurate for marking the distance between J ack’s secret thoughts and audible words, in point of time. Half an hour of the time that Jack passed at old Ny kin’s, I shall therefore pass over as indescribable. I know that I may be blamed for so doing; but I am not to be moved — for I have a reason for it. Great discoveries in science will never be made unless our desiderata are classed in a new “ Sylva Sylvarum.” I aim to set our great living wits upon the search for discovering the method of accurately measuring the distance between a man’s secret thoughts and audible words — in point of time, I said ; but the discovery will lead to results not expressed in the formula. Let me hasten to take up the conversation at the end of the indescribable half-hour ! “ Could ye not be afthur saying, now, when the great gentle- folks will have the grand wedding?” demanded one of the Irish- men ; “ they say the wine’s to be given away gratus, and dhrunk like wathur ! Faith ! and I’d like to be knowing, now. Couldn’t ye tell?” “ Indeed, I can’t,” answered Jack, audibly; and, sipping again at the liquor, said mentally, “ I wonder what new mischief old jSTykin is helping the lawyer to transact!” “I wish he would come,” thought Nykin; and said aloud, “I should have thought you would have heard, Jack, being on the spot, and so great a favourite as they say you are too, with the gentlefolks at Lovesoup House.” “ Divel burn ye, now ! ye know all about it ; but yer playing sly, ye thafe ! ” cried the Irishman, poking J ack with his finger, and seeming disposed to be droll. “ I don’t, indeed,” replied Jack, laughing at Pat’s grimaces, and thinking him a poor harmless creature. “Well, here’s the health of bride and bridegroom, let them be 140 ALDERMAN RALPH. married when they will/’ said Hykin; and Jack, with all his watchfulness did not observe the wink Nykin gave to the Irish- men. “ Their health!” was the echo; and Jack was bound to join in it, and to drink again. “ And may they have childher to their heart’s pleasure ! ” added one of the Irishmen. “ That’s a good wish enough for the rich, but not so pleasant for the poor — eh, Jack?” said ISTykin; “ you’ve seven of ’em, I think, and don’t find it very pleasant to have so many, I imagine. ” Jack was about to say that ISTykin was mistaken; and that he had very great pleasure in his children, but the three Irishmen burst in with a chorus of pity and sympathy that half-confounded J ack — unless the liquor had something to do with confusing him. “ Seven childher ! ” cried one ; “ may the Holy Father be yer helper ! Take a few nuts for ’em ! ” — and he plunged his hand into a bag that hung in the corner. “ Seven childher ! — the Holy Virgin help ye, and support ye ! — take ’em. a paper o’ gingerbread ! ” — and the second Hibernian also sounded his wallet. “ Seven childher ! — may the Lord Almighty look down upon ye, this night and hereafther ! — here’s a pincushion and a thimble, and a bit o’ bread and cheese — never mind ! heads or tails ! take ’em wid ye, for the poor babes! Hay, then, but we’ll put ’em in yer pocket ! ” — and what the third Irishman had begun to do, in spite of Jack’s remonstrance, the other two insisted on doing. They thrust their cates and other odd gifts into Jack’s coat pockets — he laughingly refusing, and they laughing and insisting — and the noise they made was so great, that J ack did not hear that low knock at the door which Hykin had been listening for so long. Lawyer Threap stood before Jack! Jack ceased laughing in- stantly — though the hands of the Irishmen were yet in his coat pockets, and they were whimsically pushing their gifts to the ALDERMAN RALPH. 141 bottom, and uttering their droll sayings. But the Irishmen saw Threap — they were serious in a moment — and silently slunk to the fireside, and subsided to the floor! Threap took off his hat, made a very low mock obeisance to Jack, and said, “How d’ye do, Mister Jigg?” “Hone the better for your asking!” replied Jack, and sprung up with a feeling of offence, and turned towards the door. “Going, Jack?” inquired Hykin. “I am,” replied our minstrel, doggedly. “Well, good-night!” said Hykin, opening the door, and speak- ing with much seeming kindness. “Good-night t’ye, friend!” said the three Irishmen. Jack returned the farewell, and stepped oyer the threshold ; and the door was immediately closed upon him. He hastened home, vexed at having met Threap, and vexed at himself; but when Martha saluted him upbraidingly for staying so long, he pulled the Irishmen’s presents out of his pocket to put her into a good humour. The children were joyously clamorous; but the careful mother would only consent that the nuts should be divided among them that night : the gingerbread was put away. Jack enjoyed his children’s eagerness; but his head grew so giddy that he quickly crept away to bed. 142 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER II. Poor Jack finds that he had wofully mistaken his treatment at Old Nykin’s: his renewed Captivity: the Baronet consents to join hands in Crime with the Lawyer. Presentiments were of no use : there were no presentiments : it was superstitious nonsense to pay any regard to them: Jack Jigg, like a stout philosopher of the nineteenth century, was making these declarations to himself while putting on his work- ing-clothes, next morning, in the dark — for he always slid out of bed softly, and refrained from striking a light, lest he should awaken poor Martha and the children — when the tramp of heavy feet, and a series of loud knocks at the door below, sent a shud- der of alarm through his nerves, and awoke Martha with a “ Lord ha’ mercy, what’s that ! ” and the children with cries of fear. Our minstrel hastened down stairs to open his cottage door, but blundered sorely; for every limb of him shook, and his philosophy about the presentiments had fled. The light from the bull’s-eye of a lanthorn dazzled J ack, as he opened the door. He averted his face, and fell back a step or two, saying — “ Who are you? what d’ye want?” “ We’ve come to search your house, Jack,” was the reply of Mr. Barnabas, the borough constable, who also drew forth a paper, informed Jack it was a search-warrant signed by Alderman Plombline and Backstitch, and began to read it. Jack could not listen to it. He now saw Threap and four assistant constables in his cottage. Two of the men had set their backs against the door, after closing it. They looked sym- ALDERMAN RALPH. 143 pathizingly at Jack; but Threap’s face was full of malignant delight; and Jack immediately guessed that this was some wicked plot for trying to ruin him, which had Threap for its deviser, as before — but could not rally his senses sufficiently to make a further guess as to what roguish plea it was founded upon. Threap did not speak; and Jack could not speak to him. Mr. Barnabas touched Jack on the arm, seeing his wild and alarmed look. “ You’ve heard it, Jack?” said the constable. “ Heard what ? ” repeated J ack, vacantly. “ The paper that I’ve read ; and we must now search for these two bank-notes.” “ Bank-notes ! ” repeated the fiddler, as vacantly as before. “ Two bank-notes, value five pound each : I read the numbers of ’em in the warrant.” “ I’ve no bank-notes,” said J ack ; “ I’ve two or three pound in half-crown pieces, which I’ve saved since I’ve been at Mr. Pevensey’s.” But here Martha and the children appeared, and the noise became so great, that Jack had to use all his strength to procure silence. “ Search me from head to foot ! ” he said, turning again to the constable; “ I never possessed a bank-note in my life; and you’ll find none upon me.” “ Those are not our directions, Jack,” said Mr. Barnabas; “ stand still, if you please, and let me attend to my duty; for I must perform it.” The next moment, Mr. Barnabas, by the light of his lanthorn, had begun to examine the room, Threap keeping close by his side, and looking anxiously upon every chair, table, and shelf. This seemed queer searching for bank-notes, Jack thought — but they were now at the corner-cupboard, opened it, and took from one shelf, and then from another, the pincushion and the paper of gingerbread which J ack had received from the Irishman as a gift for his children, the night preceding. Threap, in a second, 144 ALDERMAN RALPH. plucked liis penknife out of his waistcoat pocket, opened it, and presented it to the constable. The pincushion was ripped open, the twine bound about the paper of gingerbread was cut, — and. there were two bank-notes ! “ They are five-pound notes,” observed Mr. Barnabas, “ and the numbers are those stated in the paper.” “ They are mine,” said Threap. The handcuffs were on Jack’s wrists the next minute. Martha and the children cried and screamed; and Jack was so overwhelmed with amazement, that he was hurried out of the house unable to speak, and feeling as if every thing were running round him. “ This is sore villainy!” said Jack to Mr. Barnabas, when they were entering the street that led to the jail; “ I feel as if I were hardly in my senses.” “ It is villainy, I have no doubt,” said the kind constable, in a low voice — for although Threap had left the party, Mr. Bar- nabas felt it better to be cautious; “but keep your heart up, Jack; and be as calm as you can. You’ll find friends: I’m sure of that.” “ One can’t very well be calm, Mr. Barnabas,” said J ack, “ while one is treated in this way.” “ But you must be calm, Jack. Whatever you do, let me beg of you to keep your temper. You are to be examined almost immediately; and take care to use not one word of rashness. Never mind what they do to you this morning: it will be set right afterwards. You’ll have no witness to produce, Jack, I fear*” “ None,” answered our minstrel. “ Then say nothing, Jack. D’ye hear? Say nothing this morning, when you’re examined.” They were already at the jail-door ; and further talk was pre- vented. The prisoner was unhandcuffed, conducted to a small empty cell, and locked up. He had not remained there more than a quarter of an hour, before the turnkey again appeared, and he was conducted along the passages of the jail to a room ALDERMAN RALPH. 145 in the jailer’s house, where Plombline and Backstitch sat behind a table, and Mr. Pomponius Pratewell at one side of it, with papers before him. Threap and Nykin Noddlepate, the Irish- man whom Jack had thought to be such a poor harmless creature, with Mr. Barnabas and his men, all stood at the sides of the room. Jack was placed in front of the table, and at a short distance from it. Mr. Pomponius whispered to the magistrates ; and then Plombline ordered the constable’s men to take Nykin and the Irishman from the room. Mr. Barnabas was first sworn, produced the two bank-notes, with the pincushion and paper of gingerbread, and stated where he had found them; and how he had gone to Jack’s house, accompanied by Threap, in consequence of receiving their wor- ships’ warrant and direction. “ Did the prisoner manifest any alarm ? ” asked Plombline. “ Did he make any resistance ?” asked Nicky. “ Not the slightest resistance, your worships,” answered Mr. Barnabas. “Nor alarm?” persevered Plombline. “ Why, your worship, he did not look comfortable ; and, besides, the children made a great noise, being sorely frightened,” replied the constable. Threap was sworn, and identified the two bank-notes as his; stated that he had been robbed of them, with other property, by four ruffians, late on Saturday night, as he was returning home from Willowacre; that only two of them spoke when they seized him and demanded his money; but that their brogue being Irish, he had made inquiry, and learned that, if he went to the lodging-house kept by Nykin Noddlepate, he would find some of the Irish there. Threap went on to state that he found the prisoner in Nykin’s house, and in the act of sharing certain articles with three Irishmen, who he believed, though he could not swear to them, were three of the men who had stopped him on the highway, and that, most likely, the prisoner was the fourth. He, Threap, was so overcome with surprise at finding VOL. II. l 146 ALDERMAN RALPH. tlie prisoner in Ny kin’s house, and in suck company, that lie let the prisoner leave the house; hut Nykin Noddlepate had en- abled him to secure one of the Irishmen, from whom he had learned how his property was concealed, and who had it. Nykin was next called in, swore that Jack had been in the habit of visiting the Irish lodgers at his house for many months past; that Jack often shared articles with them, but always of such apparently trifling value that he had never thought it of any consequence ; and then confirmed the account already given by Threap, of the lawyer’s visit to his house. The Irishman was sworn, and gave his evidence on his knees, and with outcries for mercy, and entreaties that he might be admitted as king’s evidence ; but there is no need to relate what he said more at length. J ack was asked if he had any thing to say ; but, though his silence held him in great trouble, he was firm enough to keep it. Plombline and Backstitch looked disappointed; yet Jack kept silence when asked, a second time, if he had any thing to say. The magistrates whispered together for a few seconds, and Plomb- line, looking fiercely at Jack, said — “ Prisoner, you will be committed for trial at the quarter sessions, next ensuing.” “ I would not advise your worships to commit Jigg for trial,” said Mr. Pomponius, respectfully. Plombline stared, and little Nicky changed colour. “We did not ask for your advice, Mr. Pratewell,” said Plombline, haughtily ; “ we think there is unquestionable ground for committing the prisoner — an old offender, too ; and therefore you will please make out his committal.” “ I shall not make out his committal,” said Mr. Pomponius firmly, but without heat. “ Why, what is the meaning of this, sir?” demanded Plombline; but he faltered as he spoke : “ do you expect us to discharge this fellow, after the heavy charges that have been made against him here upon oath ? ” ALDERMAN RALPH. 147 “No, sir, I do not,” answered Pratewell; “you, of course, can remand him for further examination ; hut I repeat that I will not make out his committal.” J ack caught the sign — a mere contortion of the brow — given by Threap to Plombline, who turned for a moment to Backstitch, and then said — “We remand the prisoner for further examination; but I forewarn you, Mr. Pratewell, that I shall complain of your unwarrantable conduct to my brother magistrates.” Mr. Pomponius bowed, but made no reply. Jack Jigg was led back to the jail, and the Irishman was also conducted thither; but Jack, much to his satisfaction, was not troubled with the rascal’s company, and was placed in a lone cell, as before. And there we must leave our minstrel for three days — the reader being, by this time, sufficiently acquainted with him to be able to make a very tolerable sort of guess at Jack’s prison reflections. Threap exchanged a few words with Hugh Plombline and Mr. Nicky, when Mr. Pratewell had gathered up his papers and departed, and then hastened to the Bed Lion, where Sir Nigel Nickem had agreed to meet the lawyer that morning. The baronet received him with so much apparent good-will, that Threap argued success for his villainous errand ; but was prepared to proceed very cautiously. “What is this important business you so mysteriously set down in your letter, Threap?” began Sir Nigel, when he had pleasantly received the lawyer’s congratulations on his approaching union with Alice Pevensey. “ It is a business so important that you must allow me to propose a few questions to you, before I fully enter upon it,” answered Threap. “ You know I don’t like catechising,” observed the baronet, with an affectation of playfulness ; but Threap saw that he was eagerly curious : “do you expect me to answer your questions in a certain way?” 148 ALDERMAN RALPH, “ In such, a way that I must feel warranted in proceeding to the business/’ replied the lawyer ; “ or, if you answer the contrary way, why, there is an end of the business.” “ Before it be begun ! That’s unlike you, Threap. Come, proceed with your soundings ; and then launch your mystery, if there be depth enough according to your reckoning. What is the first question?” and Sir Nigel threw himself on a sofa, gathered up his legs, and pretended to be very indifferent and at his ease. “ Have you any intention of building the people of Willowacre a handsome new bridge, and making it toll-free?” “ Are you mad — or are you laughing at me ? ” asked the baronet, springing up, and staring at the lawyer. “ Neither,” answered Threap, and returned a grave look for Sir Nigel’s stare: “will you be pleased to answer me?” “You don’t want an answer, Threap. You know I have not the money to do it; and, if I had, you know I should not be disposed to throw my money away in such a manner.” “ But you promised the people of Willowacre, publicly and repeatedly, that you would do it.” “What are you driving at, Threap?” — and the great man’s temper began to rise : “ what new trick is this ? Are you joining some new conspiracy for plundering me of more money? I think, sir, you have not been paid so very scurvily for your services.” “ Sir Nigel,” answered Threap, with as much humility as he could bring himself to counterfeit, “ I have repeatedly thanked you for the way in which you have rewarded me for my services. I am not joining — I never have joined — I never shall join — a conspiracy against you. I am simply discharging my duty to my client, in warning him of an approaching danger.” “Hanger, Threap! You only want to frighten me. What danger do you mean? You can’t mean that there is any danger of my being compelled to build a new bridge, and throw it open to the public?” — and he strode excitedly about the room, swore and vowed that the people of Willowacre might as well ask him ALDERMAN RALPH. 149 to jump into the Slowflow, for he had not the money to build them a new bridge. “ Do what you can to hush the question,” he concluded, “and don’t help to stir it up. Plombline and Backstitch are acting wisely in this new committee affair. You follow the same policy, Threap ; and the people will soon consider the question as obsolete and absurd.” “ I thought Sir Nigel Nickem had had penetration enough to attribute a certain policy to its proper author, and not to Plomb- line or Backstitch,” answered Threap, with a bitter smile ; “ I know how they are acting, and I know much better than them- selves that they are not succeeding.” “ But Plombline assures me that they will succeed.” “ Do you not know, Sir Nigel, that the old agitator of this terrible Bridge question is come to life again ; that his party are again rallying round him ; and that they are now more than ever bent on having the Deed found, and then compelling you to refund the corporation’s share of the tollage for scores of years past ? ” Sir Nigel affected to laugh at the mention of the Deed; but said he had understood Mr. Ralph was recovered; yet he did not think that old slow-coach would get the people of Willowacre to go back with him to the middle ages. “ I thought there were no coaches, either slow or fast, in the middle ages, Sir Nigel,” said Threap, proud of having caught the baronet in something like an anachronism ; “ you may laugh, but there is more danger in that word ‘ Deed’ than you think. I tell you they are resolved to find it ; that it will be found, and that soon ; and then you know what may follow.” Threap pronounced these words slowly, and in a tone scarcely above a whisper, but he uttered them in such a mode as to make his client feel really alarmed. “ And have you come to croak these cursed notes in my ears like a raven foretelling my ruin, as the old women say — or what is the tragedy that is to follow this dismal prologue?” said Sir Nigel, after a short silence, and with a look that expressed more misery than his scornful words. 150 ALDERMAN RALPH. “Not to foretell your ruin have I come; but to point out your rescue, and to conduct you to safety, if you have courage to take a strong step,” said Threap. “Talk without mystery, Threap; and I think I shall have courage to take any step, if you can show me that it leads to what you promise.” “ Certain safety,” repeated Threap, and stopped ; but the baronet only answered with a look of impatience. “ If the Deed were produced to your sight ; and not only pro- duced but destroyed before your eyes, by the man who found it; and he swore to the corporation that no Deed was in existence — would you not be safe, then?” Sir Nigel gazed at his minister’s wicked look, and said, “ Dingyleaf?” “ Dingyleaf,” repeated the lawyer. “But has he found the Deed?” asked the other, faintly, and looking as pale as a corpse. “ I did not say he had. You have not answered my question. But let me put it in another shape. If Dingyleaf produced the Deed before you, we three only being present — destroyed it before our eyes — and then swore to the corporation that he had com- pleted his search, and not found it; I say, if he did this on pro- mise of receiving a sum of money from yourself, but not until he had fulfilled all the conditions of the bargain — would you be a party to it?” “ Good God, Threap ! what a villainous scheme you are pro- posing ! ” “Opposing, it may only be. You have no proof to the con- trary,” said the lawyer ; “ but, suppose you have the opportunity to secure yourself, am I to understand that you refuse?” The baronet did not answer. He was inwardly grappling with the proposition, and endeavouring to weigh what real safety there might be in accepting it; for Threap’s look and manner impressed him with the belief that the Deed was found. “You refuse,” continued Threap, “and if Dingyleaf be in ALDERMAN RALPH. 151 possession of the Deed, he may produce it to the Corporation — and ruin you. You decide that he may do that.” “ I decide to damn myself? — to put the rope round my own neck?” exclaimed the man of title, in a low husky tone, and with a face of livid hue ; “ do you take me for a natural fool, Threap ? ” The lawyer approached close to the baronet. Ceremony was at an end between them now. They felt that they were about to be such entire yoke-fellows in iniquity, that the conventional ideas of rank must be set aside. They must be bound together, riveted in a union for crime. Yet their hatred was fathomless; and each was resolving to trick the other, and triumph over him. “ I’ll do it,” said Sir Nigel, scarcely opening his teeth; “ Dingy- leaf has the Deed?” “ He has,” answered the lawyer. “ What money will he want ? ” “ Promise him ten thousand, and give him half the sum, by instalments of a thousand per year.” A smile from the baronet assured Threap that he was won over; but Sir Nigel was really saying in his heart, “ I’ll promise twenty thousand if necessary, and not give Dingyleaf one penny ! and as for you, you infernal rascal, I’ll hang you, if I can, one of these days!” “ I have him safe now,” thought Threap, “ and I’ll skin him alive, and laugh at him! The money,” he said audibly; “we can raise that : you have something left unmortgaged, I suppose ? ” Here Threap was touching his grand client most palpably “ on the raw.” Sir Nigel winced; but he knew it was vain to disguise his poverty. Besides, there was a more interior reason why he should not attempt it. He wanted money for another use. “ You must sell the Barley acre estate for me,” said the client; “it is unmortgaged. Of course, the sale must be a profound secret until some time after I am married ; and yet you must get it sold immediately.” “Sell it! — sell the Barleyacre estate!” exclaimed Threap, in unfeigned astonishment. 152 ALDERMAN RALPH, “ Curse it ! don’t gape in tliat way,” said the mortified man, conscious of his ruined condition ; “ get it sold, and as speedily as possible; but, above all, do it secretly.” “ You have the writings with you — so that I can make out the conveyance at once'?” “ I have them at Lovesoup House.” “ Then I can have them without delay — giving you an acknowledgment for them, of course'?” “That is the business method, I suppose?” “Of course it is. When can I have them? and when will you see Dingy leaf?” the lawyer added, to hide his anxiety for getting hold of the title-deeds to the Barleyacre estate. “Dingyleafs business had better be settled at once,” ob- served the baronet, eagerly. “ Could you not get him to bring the old parchment here to-night ! We are going out to- morrow.” “ But have you a few hundreds to give him down? That must be done — or he’ll fight shy ! ” “ He be ,” all the baronet’s expletives need not be rehearsed — “ he will not have the impudence to doubt my word, I should think.” “It is not worth the drippings of your honourable nose,” thought Threap. “Dingyleaf is but an owl,” he said; “but he is suspicious; and his eyes must be dazzled with a few hundred gold sovereigns : your word will do the rest. He should have five hundred at least — and he need not have more — down. Re- member the prize to be won by it ! ” “I do; but how the devil am I to get so much money? I have nothing.” “ Could you not borrow it of Pevensey?” “ I shall not borrow another shilling of Pevensey,” was the re- ply; and the great man stifled his proud disgust at Threap’s freedom — for he dare not show it. The lawyer seemed to sink into deep thought for a few minutes^ and Sir Nigel anxiously expected him to speak. ALDERMAN RALPH. 153 “ Sir Nigel,” lie said at length, “ T will bring Dingyleaf here to-night at nine o’clock, if you will meet him — for he must be secured,” and Threap shook his head with emphasis; “he will not destroy the Deed without the sum I have named, I am sure : in short, I have ascertained that from him. But I will advance him one hundred sovereigns myself to-night; and so secure him.” The baronet was astonished — delighted — and shrunk with suspicion, the next moment — which again he threw off as un- reasonable, and his face told Threap that he was caught ! “ When he has your word for the whole reward, he will be safely ours till I can get part of the purchase-money for the Barleyacre estate. W ill you have the writings with you to-night, that I may make out the conveyance quickly ? I have no doubt I shall soon find a purchaser.” “ I will, Threap” — and the grand client not only offered his right hand, but grasped the hand of the lawyer with a strange fervency. 154 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER III. Threap’s management of Plombline and Nicky: plans a splendid Aggrandise- ment of himself; wrings the heart of old Farmer Jipps : the Farmer coun- selled by Will Scroggs the sexton. Sir Nigel’s carriage rolled away from tlie front of the Red Lion inn : the lawyer stole out by the back gate, and was speedily in his snug room at the Black Swan, where Plombline and Back- stitch were already re-met, and waiting for him. Their conver- sation was very confidential, and necessarily conducted in a very low tone. Plombline sustained his part in it with as much vigour as the lawyer; but Mr. Nicholas was evidently ill at ease. “ You see I am most fearful of this,” he said, when they had gone over the circumstances of Jack’s seizure, and the behaviour of Mr. Prateweli, “ that we shall be charged with partaking in a trick. Alderman Ralph, and the mayor, and their set, will demand why you did not apply to some of them for the warrant ; and why we took the whole business upon ourselves.” “ They’ll not have the impudence to make such a demand,” said the lawyer; “ they remember too well the badgering you gave ’em — eh, Plombline ? — for that dark business of theirs. ” “ I should think so, ” said Plombline chuckling. “ There’s not a disinterested man in Willowacre but will say, that I could not be expected to go and ask for a search-warrant from the men who treated me as I was treated in that scandalous affair. ” “ You are right,” said Plombline; “that is exactly the view which the public will take of it.” “Perhaps, it is,” observed little Nicky, trying to gather cour- ALDERMAN RALPH. 155 age ; “ or they may take tkat view when they have had time to think ; hut at first, I fear, public feeling will go against us. ” “ A public man must learn to defy public opinion,” declared Hugh, looking proudly oracular; “what is public opinion? — a straw blown about by every wind ! Bemember, Backstitch, what changes you and I have witnessed in public opinion, and how we have triumphed over it ! ” “ True,” decided the lawyer; “ that’s the way to look at things. A man of the world must not be frightened at his own shadow. Well, now, a word about more important business. You asked me some curious questions, the other day, about the doctor” — “Yes!” interjected Plombline and Backstitch, and looked eagerly at the lawyer. “And Dingy leaf has asked some curious questions of you. How, mark me! I have just had an interview with Sir Nigel ; and he requests me to inform you, that he entertains the deepest feeling of obligation to you for the handsome and — and discreet part — you know what I mean — that you have taken in the new agitation of this nuisance of a Bridge question. But the fact is, that Sir Nigel is getting wearied of it. It annoys him to death. And it must be got quit of. We must have it buried,” continued Threap, slapping his hand on the table, and making more noise than he wished to make. “You are desired not to go near Dingyleaf to-day,” he went on in a very low tone, “ but to-mor- row I may have to request you to make him an especial visit, and for an especial purpose. Don’t ask me a single question now ! I have to meet the baronet again to-night. Understand that!” Nicky and Hugh felt restlessly inquisitive. “ Shall you be late with Sir Nigel to-night?” asked Plombline. “Not — very — I should think,” answered the lawyer, consider- ately; “you wish to see me again to-night? Well: it may as well be so. By eleven, or before, I will be at your house,” he said, nodding to Backstitch ; “ Plombline may be there by ten or soon after, if he chooses — for I may get away early ; but early or late — I’ll come. Now, I must be off directly — for I’ve important 156 ALDERMAN RALPH. business to transact at home. Let me go out first : you sit a while longer; and when you do go out, go out at different doors I” They squeezed hands; and Threap winked at Nicky. “ Punctual!” declared Threap; “ I’ll be with you, to-night.” The magisterial pair sat several minutes together after the lawyer’s departure, and Mr. Nicky rose to go first, and out of the back-door. Plombline did not know that his timid comrade was eager to get out, in order to have a look at that little bit of paper, so closely rolled up, which Threap had left in the needy hand of Mr. Nicholas. It was a ten-pound note! Had Sir Nigel sent it him by Threap? or was it Threap’s bribe? He wondered which it was; but Nicky was resolved to keep it, let it be which it might. How courageous it made him ! Threap had touched a sure spring in his nature. Threap himself was reviewing his guilty plans, as he hastened on to Meadowbeck. He had never felt more elated. His fiery blood beat quick through his veins, and his temples throbbed hard ; but he felt so clear in the brain, he imagined, that nobody could outwit him; and he was confident he should go through his whole game, and win. But his game was becoming gigantic. It gave him a sense of greatness. He was no longer a mere legal pettifogger, he reminded himself; but a schemer for a great prize. “ Lord of Barleyacre ! — that will be worth struggling for ! ” he soliloquised; “to ride over these broad acres, and call them my own ! And I shall do it, too. Let me once get the title-deeds to this estate into my hands, and I’ll take care to keep them. What can be easier? This saucy, beggarly rascal demands that the sale be kept a secret; and, of course, the purchaser can demand that his name be kept a secret. I can raise a couple of thousands on my own house and grounds; and he will not be able to resist the money, for he wants to make a display in pre- paring for the wedding, just to blind Pevensey to his real condi- tion. He may boggle at first, because the purchaser’s name is not in the conveyance; but he’ll sign it. I can persuade him that he need not care a straw who buys the estate, since he is resolved ALDERMAN RALPH. 157 to sell it. And, when I have his signature, my own name shall be in the conveyance the next hour. As for giving him the value of the estate — that’s out of the question. I’ll manage him, or otherwise ruin him, if he should become restive. But he will be ruined. He’s sure to be ruined. He’s playing the methodist at Pevensey’s, till he secures the girl ; but he’ll play the devil when he has got her tied to him ? And so let him go to the devil ! and I’ll hasten him there as fast as I can.” The villain’s reflections took another course : “ I’ve trapped this meddling vagabond of a fiddler at last. His fate is sealed. I may have a little bother in getting his business finished for him; but I shall get through it. Pratewell did not look as if he suspected us. He is only a stickler for form : that’s all. He thought the case too important to be cut so short. These magistrates’ clerks always like to spin a case out. They like to show off before the whole bench of noodles : it makes them look big. Plombline would not let him show off — and he hates Plombline, I believe, at heart ; and, besides, he wants his own set to figure in it : Alderman Ralph, and the mayor, and the rest — Alderman Slowcoach, I should have said: that was a good hit of the baronet’s, only he made a blunder with his middle ages ! Ha, hah ! “ Yes, yes ! I shall get him sent over the herring-pond. They can’t break down the evidence ; for I am the principal witness myself ; and they will not fluster me. I think they know that pretty well. Old Yykinhas to swear to very little. I took care of that ; for like all great liars he has a most cursed short memory, and so exposes himself to detection. The Irishman is a capital trump. He’s as clever as a playactor, and does the weeping business like life! I knew it wouldn’t do to bring the other ragamuffins up : they would have spoilt the mess altogether, by either their love of lying, or their forgetfulness, and broken down the case by their contradictions of each other. They must be kept safe and out of the way, till the fiddler is transported : I must see to that. I shall secure you, too, my pretty cherry-cheeked 158 ALDERMAN RALPH. Margery! when this vagabond is gone — but I must think about this sterner business just now. Let me get all the work done before I think of play ! ” What the sterner business was must now be told. When Threap reached his own house, he immediately despatched a man- servant to the farm-house of the elder Jipps, the father of our banished Jonathan, summoning the old man to come to him without a minute’s delay, on most important business; and then retired into his study, and began to look out certain papers against the old man’s arrival. Suddenly, old Will Scroggs passed the lawyer’s study- window on his way to the kitchen-door. “ Curse that old scarecrow of a gravedigger ! ” thought Threap ; “ how he has hung about me ever since I gave him the crown- piece ! This comes of being over-generous to such crawling old wretches. He’s always coming here, on one pretended errand or another. I’ll send him oh* with a hy in his ear, and end his creeping visits” — and out dashed the lawyer, and assailed Will with such bitter and peremptory language, charging him to dis- continue bringing his useless and troublesome presence there, that Will hobbled oh* without saying a word, but thinking a good deal. At the entrance to the lawyer’s grounds, Will met Farmer Jipps, and gave him the usual salutation about the weather, but, noting the old farmer’s uneasy look, ventured to say — “ Going on law-business, Mr. Jipps? It’s uncomfortable having aught to do with it ; and you’ll not find the lawyer in the best of tempers to-day, I can assure ye.” The old farmer was walking rapidly, but he stopped short, and his lip quivered, as he turned to look at Will, when he heard the sexton’s words. Will thought, too, that he saw a tear start to the farmer’s eye ; but the farmer turned away, and hastened on again without speaking. Will stood and rested on his stick, looking anxiously after the farmer, and wondering what troublous errand the old man was going upon to Threap’s — whether it ALDERMAN RALPH. 159 concerned young Jonathan, especially. Then the reports of dark hints, which it was said the farmer had thrown out about Threap’s doings, arose in Will’s memory; and he determined to loiter about awhile, and re-accost the farmer. “ He will not stay very long, I should think,” Will muttered to himself ; “ and, since I shall not be able to peep about Threap’s premises now — as I promised Peter I would — I should like to try if I can get any thing out of the farmer, should he know any thing.” Nor did Farmer Jipps remain very long at the lawyer’s. He entered the study with a sore heart, and Threap made it sorer before the old man left the house. “ Sit down, pray, Mr. Jipps,” began Threap, with an air more commanding than courteous : “ I have sent for you to say,” he went on, taking up one of the papers in his hand, and looking as hard as iron, “ that I must have your account settled, and that at once. You must, positively, get me the money in the course of to-morrow.” “ I can’t do that,” the farmer begun to reply. “ Can’t ! it is of no use your talking in that way to me, Mr. Jipps,” interrupted the lawyer, with asperity; “ I must have the money, I tell you. The three accounts come to one hundred and twenty-three pounds odd; and the oldest of ’em, you know, is part of an account contracted more than ten years ago. How long, in the name of Patience, would you have me wait for my money h ” “ I was a fool to go to law.” “ Fool ! and what have I to do with that h If people will go to law with their neighbours about their bargains, I have no right to pay their expenses, and give my labour for nothing” — “ You did not work for nothing,” burst in the old man with a flash of temper and spirit; “what I paid you for the first job — and I was flush o’ money in those days — ought to be considered as settling for all you say I owe you.” “ All I say you owe me ! Confound your impudence, look at 160 ALDERMAN RALPH. that, sir ! ” — and the heartless wretch pushed a paper before the 'old man’s face : it was a legal “ Bill of Sale,” empowering the lawyer to seize and sell all the farmer’s household furniture, agricultural and farming implements, with his horses, cows, and pigs, carts and waggons — in brief, it gave Threap the power to beggar young Jonathan’s father and mother. “For God’s sake be merciful to me!” exclaimed the grey- headed man, as well as he could utter the prayer for sobs and tears. “ Merciful ! ” retorted the depraved and relentless schemer ; “ have not I shown you more mercy than any man alive ? If you had a spark of gratitude in you, you would have tried to pay me before now. Did not I save your thievish son from transporta- tion — just out of pity to your grey hairs?” “ Pity to my grey hairs ! ” exclaimed the farmer, with a return of spirit, and a good deal of indignation; “if Jack Jigg were here, he could tell another tale” — “Jack Jigg — the vile, low thief!” retorted the lawyer with ireful scorn ; “ the scoundrel that robbed me of two five-pound notes, on the highway, the other night — and whom I’ve seen safely caged in jail this morning, and who is sure to be sent to Botany Bay at the next quarter sessions!” The poor old farmer was struck speechless, and now looked like the petrification of a man. “ You stare,” continued Threap, fiendishly enjoying the old man’s fear-stricken look; “why, man, that Jigg is a monster of wickedness. There was no wonder that your son took to bad ways while he kept company with that vile fiddler. He’s been a rogue in grain all his life. I should not wonder if a score more cases of villainy are proved against him at the sessions.” “Bobbed you — a — a — two five-pound notes?” repeated the old man, still looking only half- conscious. “ Found in his own house this morning, by Barnabas the con- stable ; and an Irishman, one of his old companions in thievery, has turned king’s evidence against him. He’s as sure to go over ALDERMAN RALPH. 161 the herring-pond as you sit there, I tell you — and a happy deliverance for the country.” “ The Lord ha’ mercy on us!” ejaculated the old man, “ what will the world come to? Who knows who to trust?” continued he, his head sinking upon his breast ; “ I wish my poor lad had never seen him, — a bad, lying rascal ! ” and again the old man wept. “ Lying! — he was the vilest liar that ever spoke with a tongue. But, come now, Mr. Jipps, we must have this business settled.” “ Don’t ruin me, Mr. Threap ! ” entreated the humbled old man ; “ give me a week, and I’ll try to raise you the money. I must sell all the corn I have left to year, except what I want for seed. What I’m to do for my rent I can’t tell.” “ Well, well, that you know best. I’ll grant you a week.” “ Thank ye, thank ye, Mr. Threap ! ” “ But understand me ! I shall not wait an hour beyond next Monday at noon. Bemember ! for I shall not give way to any more of your entreaties. Good-morning!” and Threap opened the study door, and hastened the old man away. Will Scroggs pushed himself before Farmer Jipps, just beyond the lawyer’s grounds. The farmer looked like a broken-hearted and nearly distracted man, and Will addressed him twice without receiving a word of reply. “ I fear you are in some great trouble, Mr. Jipps,” began the sexton, a third time. “ Trouble enough,” replied the old farmer, faintly ; “ I wish you had to make my grave to-morrow, for I’m weary of living. I wish I’d never been born.” “ They are awful words, you are saying, Mr. Jipps,” observed Will Scroggs, “ and for a man of your years to say ’em ! It’s awful, Mr. Jipps!” “ It will end me,” raved the old man : “ I can’t bear it : I shall go out of my mind. Oh, my poor wicked misled lad ! And what’s to become of his poor old mother?” VOL. II. M 162 ALDERMAN RALPH. The stricken old man reeled in the path; and Will seized his arm, and succeeded in seating him on a large stone which lay beneath a tree. Will placed him so that he could lean against the tree’s trunk, and remained with him till he seemed sufficiently recovered to move on; and then Will conducted him home. “ Better lie down awhile, Mr. Jipps,” said Will, as they came up to the farmer’s door. “ I will; but come in with me,” said the farmer. “Nanny, I’m sickly, and I’m going to lie down a few minutes — say nought to your mistress ! ” he added, addressing an elderly maid-servant as they entered. “ There’s a deal of heart-trouble for some of us in this world,” began the sexton again, when the farmer seemed to look better and calmer ; “ but we shouldn’t give way to despair, you know, Mr. Jipps.” “ I know it,” replied the farmer, “ and, as fearful as my trouble is, I could bear it if my lad had not deceived me. Oh, how could he find it in his heart to do it — so much as I always loved him ! ” and the old man was again giving way to the dis- traction of his grief, had not Will made a strong effort to restrain him. “ I can’t believe young J onafhan would deceive you,” said Will; “who has told you so? Of course, I’ve no right to pry into your concerns, farmer; but if Lawyer Threap has been setting you against your son, I tell you at once, you are very much to blame to believe him.” “ Do you think so?” asked the farmer, gazing anxiously at the sexton. “ I do. J ust try to quiet yourself, a bit. I found the shovel and lanthorn, that morning. You know where they were taken from before they lay in the churchyard. Prom your barn, of course — for they were yours. Now, will you tell me where you believe the kegs of liquor came from that I also found? I do not know what the lawyer said to you when you went inot his ALDERMAN RALPH. 163 writing-place tliat morning. I know that young J onathan went away with Fiddler Jack soon after.” “ The graceless wretch ! ” exclaimed the father, u that is the villain that has ruined my poor lad ! — But, Lord forgive me ! I’ve no need to speak bitterly about him either. He’ll have misery enough now. And what is to become of his poor wife and children'?” Will asked the meaning of the farmer’s last words ; and, in turn, was stricken with confusion on hearing what the farmer had learnt from Threap. “ Why, it’s highway robbery ! ” reasoned Will, when he grew a little more self-possessed ; “ do ye really think, farmer, that the fiddler is rascal enough to be capable o’ that 1 ? I always thought him impudent ; but hang it ! I — I — somewhat doubt that he’s likely to rob on the highway.” “ Doubt ! how can you doubt when it has been proved before the magistrates at Willowacre, and he’s in prison?” demanded the farmer. “ There’s always room to doubt about almost every thing, farmer,” asserted the sexton, stoutly ; “ the lawyer says your son is a thief, and stole those kegs of liquor, or else had ’em of the smugglers. Now, I ask you lo your face, do you believe that? As I said before, I don’t know what the lawyer said to you.” “ I tell you, it was the fiddler that ruined him.” “ Then you believe that he and Jack Jigg stole that liquor. D’ye mean to say that Jonathan owned to it before you let him go away?” “ I can’t believe what he said,” answered the father ; “ my poor lad was misled, I tell you.” “ But you don’t tell me that he confessed he was either a thief or a smuggler. Now, Mr. Jipps, I see that there’s something on your mind,” continued the old sailor, “ and I believe it would be better for you to tell it. Of course, I have no right to poke myself into any secrets. But there’s something very mysterious to 164 ALDERMAN RALPH. me — and to many more, I can tell you — about all these queer things that’s a been going on for some time. I think you ought to unburthen your mind. But you know best.” " The worst that can come is about to come,” said the old farmer very thoughtfully, after he had raised himself up, and looked very abstractedly towards the end of the room for some minutes ; “ and worse cannot come, if I tell you what my lad and Jigg said.” Will Scroggs folded his arms and drank in every syllable of the farmer’s narrative relative to the opening of the vault by Jack and young Jonathan, and how they had agreed that Jona- than should go into a distant part of the country to appease the lawyer. The farmer gave Will a statement of his monied difficulties; and now the whole matter was clear to the mind of the sexton. “ Mr. Jipps,” said he, “get up like a man, and get about your daily business with a heart trusting in the Almighty. You’ll not be ruined. I say you’ll not . Your son’s innocent; and I tell you again, I don’t believe in this highway robbery either. The chief thing you have to do is, to send for Jonathan to come home without an hour’s delay. Send for him at once. Stop ! There’s a thought just come into my noddle. Will you allow me to go straight to Willowacre, this very hour, and talk this matter over with a far-seeing friend o’ mine?” “ Who is he ? ” asked the farmer. “ One with whom I’ve sailed many a league, both in fair and foul weather: the harbour-master of Willowacre.” “ I have no objection,” answered the farmer; “ Peter Weather- wake is an elderly man, like you and me, and is said to be very shrewd.” “ You can’t recollect how they got into this place under ground, or whereabout it is?” “ I can’t. I was in too much grief to note every thing they said.” “For that reason Jonathan must be sent for. But I’ll go at ALDERMAN RALPH. 165 once, and consult Peter about it. In the mean time, Mr. Jipps, I think you had better tell nobody else about this.” “ You may depend upon it I sha’n’t, for my own sake. The lawyer would sell me up, stick and store, if he knew that I had told you, I have no doubt; and you must tell Weatherwake to be very prudent.” “ He’ll let it go no further,” replied Will Scroggs; “ Good-day, Mr. Jipps: keep your heart up!” 166 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER IY. "Which may be considered as a Certificate of good Character for onr Minstrel, inasmuch as it shews what general and intense Sympathy was felt for him. What sublimity there is, poetic reader, in contemplating any profound general emotion of society : more especially that caused by its sense of some great and irreparable bereavement ! The death of the Iron Duke, but a few months ago — how every body talked about it ! Yea, what thought, as well as talk, it created in the palace and the mansion, in the workshop and the cottage ! The death of Nelson, when the majority of us now living were children — what a marble chill it sent through every English heart ! So, in this great history of Willowacre, the imprisonment of Jack Jigg the fiddler, for robbing Lawyer Threap on the high- way — how it caused nearly every inhabitant of the old borough to hold breath, and then break forth into some strong exclama- tion of astonishment or regret, of incredulity or anger ! Wonder? I wager you a new silver groat — for shillings are scarce with me — that there had never been such wonder in Willowacre before! Talk? I should think they did talk. Men talked, and shook their heads, and hinted. Women talked, and talked, and talked, and did more than hint. And the children talked, and declared that all their mammies said that poor J ack was as innocent as a lamb, and the rascal of a lawyer deserved hanging, with old Nykin and the Irishman on either side of him, “ three rascals in a row.” Soon they sung it through the streets and along the alleys; and before nightfall of that day not a single human creature in old Willowacre that had ears to hear, could be ignorant of the new “ great fact.” Soon after breakfast-hour at Lovesoup House, Davy Drudge, ALDERMAN RALPH. 167 not finding liis friend in the garden, had gone to Jack’s cottage, heard the consternating news of his friend’s arrest, and was min- gling his tears with those of Jack’s wife and children. He was so heart-stricken that he had not courage to go and carry the dolo- rous news to his master and mistress; but went to Alderman Ralph’s kitchen, and poured his grief into the ears of his mother and Margery Markpence. Margery wept, and hastened to tell the sorrowful story to May ; and May told it in distress to her uncle. Mr. Ralph asked for the boy; but he was gone. Patty was summoned into the parlour; and having learned from her where the fiddler lived, away went the goodly alderman to Jack’s cottage, heard Martha’s account of the alarming visit of Threap and the constable, and drew from her the true facts about the presents forced on Jack by the Irishmen. All seemed clear in Jack’s favour, till Mr. Ralph put the forcible question to Martha — “ How came your husband in the house of a man so notoriously wicked as this Nykin Noddlepate — the very man who attempted, on a former occasion, to ruin him by the foulest false-swearing T Martha equivocated; said she “did not know;” tried to invent some story about borrowing a fiddle ; broke down in the inven- tion; and burned to tell the secret about Betty Brown, but dared not. The alderman questioned again and again; but the more he questioned, the more Martha contradicted herself. Mr. Ralph assured her he would take care that neither she nor her children came to want; but quitted the cottage saying, he must make further inquiries. Thence he went direct to the town-clerk’s office, received the statement formally and in full of the fiddler’s examination before Plombline and Backstitch, felt his suspicions awakened by the mention of their names, but again had his doubts of Jack’s integrity revived and strengthened by finding, that Mr. Pomponius had been smitten with the like doubts, and from the like reflections. “What was Jigg doing there?” echoed Mr. Pratewell, when 168 ALDERMAN RALPH. Alderman Ralph had put the same question; “and more, how comes it that he has joined these vagabond Irish there for months back?” “ Is that a fact ? ” asked the astonished senior alderman. “ It was given in evidence by the other fiddler,” answered Mr. Pomponius; “and Jigg did not deny it. Indeed, he denied nothing. And that seemed to me very remarkable. It was so unlike his former behaviour. However, though I believe I have given mortal offence to Plombline and Backstich by refusing to make out the man’s committal, yet I really felt it right to refuse. The man’s character is so generally held in esteem ; there seemed something so sudden and startling in the way of bringing him up — at such an early hour; and then the remembrance of his having been most wrongfully dealt with on that other occasion by these very parties — altogether, I felt bound to do what I have done — that is all I can say — and I must leave it to the Bench to determine whether I have done right or wrong.” “ I think you have done exactly what you ought to have done, Mr. Pratewell,” said Mr. Ralph; “and yet, I fear Jigg is not the upright and deserving man we have taken him for.” “ I regret to say that I have the same fears,” returned the town-clerk. “ It is very distressing,” continued Mr. Ralph, looking sorrowfully thoughtful, “ very, — to find that men are not what we take them to be. And his poor family. I have just been to see them : it is really heart-rending ! ” “ I am just thinking,” said Mr. Pomponius, bending his eyes on the office-floor, and not liking to look at the tears he saw stealing down worthy Mr. Ralph’s face, “that since Jigg has been in Mr. Pevensey’s service for some time past, it would be well for us to make some inquiry in that direction, respecting his habits and behaviour of late,” “A very proper suggestion, Mr. Pratewell,” observed the senior alderman ; “ I am sure Mr. Pevensey would not deal un- charitably towards the man; and yet, I think, he has some per- ALDERMAN RALPH. 169 ception of character. I should like to hear what Mr. Pevensey says of Jigg’s behaviour. Between Mr. Pevensey and myself, you know, there is some little distance at present. But I could meet him here at your office, as a matter of Bench business, you know. I see no objection to that.” “ There can be none, I should think, sir,” returned Mr. Pom- ponius, with a polite inclination of his head ; “ I will write a note to him, and ask him to appoint a time for meeting you here.” “ Yes — I think you might do that,” said Mr. Balph, hesitating, and thinking how he had twice refused to accept Pevensey’s friendship. But his pity for our minstrel’s wife and children, as well as for Jack himself, and his desire to obtain a solution of the mystery that hung over Jack’s case, combined to dispel his scruples; and Mr. Balph bade the town-clerk “ good-morning,” after desiring Mr. Pomponius to inform him so soon as ever Mr. Pevensey should intimate what time their interview could take place. At home Mr. Balph was restless, for May’s face bespoke her uneasiness; and so Mr. Balph was out and in a dozen times before the day went over — talking with his friends in the street, and stepping home again to see if the town-clerk had yet sent any note about the interview with Mr. Pevensey. But no note arrived. Gilbert had gone to a neighbouring town on business ; and Alice and the baronet were to drive thither on the morrow, and bring him home with them. Alice would have written to say so; but she was indisposed that day to do any thing but brood over her own cares. These were becoming so heavy, that she received the announcement of Jack Jigg’s seizure with little apparent concern, much to the distress of Davy Drudge, who, unable to rest, wandered about from the kitchen to J ack’s cottage, and from the garden to Mr. Balph’s back-door, trying to comfort Jack’s wife and children, spreading discomfort in the minds of Patty and Margery, and bringing no comfort to himself. Gregory Markpence, who usually sympathised so little with the people of Willowacre, partook deeply of the general feeling of 170 ALDERMAN RALPH. uneasiness respecting poor Jack. Gregory gathered a few hints of what had occurred from some of his passengers as they paid the toll; but he so habitually nursed moroseness, that few liked to converse with him, and he disliked to become familiar with any, and so encouraged none to talk. A hasty visit from his daughter Margery, in the afternoon, put Gregory in possession of more perfect information than he could have obtained from any passenger over the bridge ; inasmuch as Margery’s statement was derived from Davy Drudge, who had duly rehearsed, in Mr. Balph’s kitchen, every thing that had been told him by Jack’s wife — save and except what related to Betty Brown. Why Jack should have gone to old Hy kin’s was a puzzle to Gregory, as well to others : in fact, it was a puzzle to nearly the whole town — so notorious was the enmity of the wooden-legged fiddler to his almost universally esteemed rival. Gregory took a sudden resolution. He went to the borough jail, and asked to see Jack Jigg ; but the jailer informed the toll- keeper that the magistrates who examined J ack had given orders that none should see him without their leave ; and intimated significantly to Gregory, that there was little chance of success even if leave were asked of Plombline or Backstitch. Gregory did not ask leave when he learnt who the magistrates were that had examined Jack; and went back to the toll-house full of belief that J ack had been tricked, and planning something in his mind for J ack’s deliverance, but greatly at a loss to know how he should bring that something about. Jerry Dimple — good, sympathising soul ! — was miserable about Jack; and sent to desire old Peter Weatherwake to bring his pipe and have some talk about the fiddler, as soon as the ancient harbour-master’s noontide dinner was over. “ Didn’t I tell ye?” reasoned Jerry very earnestly with the old mariner; “ and doesn’t this prove it?” “ Prove what, neighbour Dimple?” asked Peter; “you know I’m not quite so quick at apprehending as some folks.” “ Why, that poor Jack never was a tool of the lawyer’s. You ALDERMAN RALPH. 171 know I told you so at first; and yet you fell into the same way o’ thinking when you had that talk with Will Scroggs, the sexton of Meadowbeck.” Peter smoked steadily, and instead of looking at the fire, according to his custom, turned and looked long and compassion- ately at the landlord, and in silence. “ Neighbour Dimple,” he at length answered with great mild- ness, “ people who, like yourself, have more good-nature than brains — and I’m sure you’ll not take offence at what I say” — “ I won’t indeed,” said honest Jerry, with the sincerest humility ; but Peter went on : — “ Never suspect other people to be rogues, until all the world says they are. Now, in my opinion, it’s too late then to suspect. What’s the use o’ suspecting a thing that’s found out ? I think it more sensible to suspect when- there’s aught that looks suspicious in a man, however honest some folks may call him. D’ye mark that'?” “ I do,” said Jerry; “ but then you see I’d known Jack for so many years, and” — “ Hear me out, neighbour Dimple ! I am free to confess that I’m no conjurer. I can’t see through a man’s skin, you know — unless I be a good deal in his company. Now, I’ve seen the fiddler pretty often, but never for very long at a time : so, you know, I might be mistaken. But, mark this ! you have told me about what’s happened this morning; and I tell you — there’s more in it than some folks think!” and here Peter fell to devouring the fire, and smoked away as vehemently as he was wont when there was “ any thing particular on his mind.” Jerry was growing very restless under old Peter’s silence, and was about to try his skill by putting some oblique sort of question, when who should appear at the parlour door but Will Scroggs the sexton? “Well, I’m blowed if this isn’t a sign o’ something ! ” said Will, stopping short at the door, and looking surprised. “What cheer, Will?” cried Peter, turning round quickly; 172 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ what’s in the wind now, that ye look so queer? It’s very odd that you should come first ; for I was thinking o’ coming to you, and I should have been under way in five minutes.” “ Then I’m sure it’s a sign of something,” repeated Will; “ could I — that is,” he continued, looking at the landlord, and then at Peter, “ could I have a word with you, messmate?” “ You can speak your mind here, before the landlord, brother,” replied Weatherwake; “I can trust my life in his hands; and, take my word for it, you may. So bring your old hulk to an anchor in that corner ; and the landlord will give you a pipe. Help yourself, messmate!” ended Peter, handing Will his tobacco-box, as the sexton sat down in the arm-chair on the side of the fireplace opposite to Peter s. The two old tars soon filled the room with smoke; and Jerry, by the fulness of meaning there was in their faces, knew that he was about to hear some revelations of pregnant import, and was correspondingly expectant. “We might as well ease our minds, brother,” began Peter, “ for, very likely, we shall have something to consider of when we’ve done so.” Will Scroggs nodded, as much as to say, “ Y ery good;” and then nodded again, as much as to say, “ You go on first!” “ Belike you’ve heard of what’s happened here, in the borough, this morning?” started Peter; and again Will nodded. “How, d’ye think the fiddler is the thief, or the lawyer?” “ The lawyer — shiver my timbers if I don’t ! ” burst forth W ill. “ Avast heaving, Will !” entreated Peter; “ it’s all very well to shout when there’s a gale at sea, you know ; but we’re in a calm here; and so let us take it quietly.” “ It’s all right enough, what you say, Peter,” replied Will ; “ but I tell you the lawyer’s a thief and a smuggler; and, what’s worse, he’s a hard-hearted tyrant, that would squeeze an old man’s heart out to get money from him ! ” “ Money ! ” exclaimed Peter ; “ why, Lord love your honest soul ! he hasn’t been trying to get money out of you, has he?” ALDERMAN RALPH. 173 “ Me! — nonsense ! — it’s poor old Farmer Jipps that I’m talking about. The farmer used to be crazed, as one may say, a few years ago, about lawing every body that he differed with in making a bargain. And so, you understand, he run up a great bill at the lawyer’s — or, in truer words, the lawyer booked him for twice as much as he owed. He was simple enough to give the lawyer some sort of writing that will enable Threap to sell him up and beggar him, within a week ; and that’s all the time he’s given him.” Here Will fastened on the pipe again, and left Peter to deci- pher by his own wit, what connection this relation had with Will’s conviction that Jack was not a thief. Peter sat thinking; but could not see his way through the difficulty. “ Your health, landlord!” said Will. “ Thank ye ! same to you,” said J erry ; “ the poor old farmer will be taking this to heart, I fear. How much may the money be that Threap demands'? D’ye happen to know?” “ One hundred and twenty pound and odd,” answered the sex- ton; “and he’ll have to to sell his corn to a loss, and set himself fast with his landlord for his rent, if he pays it.” “He needn’t do that,” said kind-hearted Jerry; “I’ll lend him the money. A man so upright, and so well known and respected as old Mr. Jipps, shall not be ruined by such a rascal as Threap.” The two old sailors grasped each a hand of Jerry Dimple, and showered rough blessings on his head; but Will gently pushed Peter back into the arm-chair, and said — “ But this money must not be paid ! Don’t you see ? The lad must be brought back again. Don’t ye understand, Peter?” “You’re meaning something particular, Will,” answered Peter, looking hard at his old associate, and exerting his brain ; “ d’ye mean to say that the lad knows any thing particular?” “ I do,” answered Will, and shook his head portentously. “And was sent away to keep him from telling?” “That’s it! and Jack Jigg knows something particular too — and you know where the lawyer has fixed him ! ” 174 ALDERMAN RALPH. J erry uttered a nondescript sort of an exclamation — something between a word and a whistle — and looked hard at Will, and then at old Peter Weatherwake. “ I told ye, neighbour Dimple, there was more in all this than some folks thought,” said the harbour-master, returning Jerry’s look with one of peculiar sapience. “ You did,” said Jerry, with approving quickness. Smoke they did, in right earnest now, the two old mariners, for some minutes; and then laid down their pipes, and entered into the complicated subject just as your ordinary, everyday sort of people would have entered on it at first : that is to say, intel- ligibly, step by step, and by a statement of the facts — a method of dealing with things which served well as an after procedure with Peter and Will, but was by no means welcome to such in- tuitive geniuses as an induction. Will communicated all that Jonathan’s father had said about his son and Jack visiting the liquor-vault; and Peter and Jerry related all that they knew about Jack’s examination before Plomb- line and Backstitch, and Threap’s charge against Jack. Will, like Jerry and Peter, was stoutly of opinion that Jack was inno- cent, but all three expressed their wonder that J ack should have been found in the house of old ISTykin JSToddlepate. It looked queer, they said ; and gave them some painful doubt — but they would not yield to it. As for young Jonathan, Peter and Jerry agreed with Will, that he must be sent for at once; and that he must conduct a band of the coastwaiter’s men to Threap’s hiding- place for the smuggled goods — in order that Threap himself might be laid hold of, and be baffled in his designs against Jonathan’s father and Jack Jigg. Will set off again for Meadowbeck, full of his secret — was charged by Jerry Dimple to assure the farmer that he might have the money if he chose — but was especially commissioned by Peter Weatherwake to urge the farmer to send for his son immediately, that the vault might be opened ; and, until Jonathan came back, to “ let it go no further!” ISJjjirjj is tjrc must Stnprtani in tjiis gnat Sisteri nf ©iUmnam. / ALDERMAN RALPH. 177 BOOK II. CHAPTER I. "Which describes two Councils of Rascals, with Threap as the Chief of both. Not having a very extensive acquaintance with rascals of the first lustre, I cannot undertake to say whether they invariably have a choking sensation in the throat, a hang-dog look about the eyes and brow, and a remarkable sensitiveness of the ears, which renders them uneasy at every sound, however light, when they are in the act of consummating some signal villainy ; but I know that a triple nest of scoundrels presented such manifesta- tions of conscious sin, on the evening of the day at which our chronicle has arrived. Sir Nigel Nickem arrived first, and on foot, at the Ned Lion. He could not sit ; but paced the best upper-room, in which he usually met the lawyer, slowly and softly, listening for the arrival of Threap and Dingyleaf. He stopped short, thinking he heard them, and extinguished two of the three wax candles on the table, feeling as if he could not bear to be plainly seen. He was mis- taken: there was no sound of feet near; and he stepped softly through the long room again, but felt so uneasy in the com- parative gloom that he relighted the candles. The sense of his baseness impelled him once to think of dartin g out of the room, and giving up this consummating scheme of vil- lainy. It was more repulsive to his mind than any base plan he VOL. II. n 178 ALDERMAN RALPH. had formed about Alice or May : it was so foreign from the con- duct of a gentleman according to conventional notions : it could not be excused by giving false palliating hints about gallantry : it was swindling on a large scale, augmented in criminality by perjury: — the fashionable world would profess to abhor it: it would ruin him for ever, if only suspected. But would he not sink into lower ruin if he washed his hands of it? — the lowest ruin of beggary? He could not meet that. He must not permit the world to point the finger at him, as “ the poor baronet!” Ho: he had now the cards in his hands; and, though the stake was so fearful, he would play out the game — and win : for he saw nothing to prevent his winning. Hark ! they were coming; and again he put out two of the candles. The landlord, Sol Topple, as he announced the lawyer and the scholar, was about to relight the candles ; but the baronet stam- mered something about a pain in his eyes which was increased by the glare; and Sol Topple withdrew, leaving only one lighted candle in the room, but two additional villains. Threap made a short bow, and saluted the baronet awkwardly ; but Dingyleaf could not utter one word for that stifling feeling in his throat : he merely cringed, and then laid hold of a chair to support himself. Sir Nigel bowed with more self-possession than the great scholar of the four pronomina ; but disgust pre- vented him from speaking. He seated himself, but Threap was left to ask Dingyleaf to be seated. Threap was thrillingly eager to open a parcel of parchments which he saw upon the table. It had been brought there by Sir Nigel’s footman; but the bearer of it had been dismissed, so soon as his master entered the room. Threap knew that his grand client was eager to have the affair with Dingyleaf over ; but he had resolved to make sure of the title-deeds to the Barleyacre estate, before he ventured to lay down a shilling for Dingyleaf’s grasp. He thought boldness would be the best tact ; and so laid his hand on the parcel, looked at the baronet, and said — “Can I look for a moment?” ALDERMAN RALPH. 179 “Yes,” replied the client; “but let us get this other business despatched first.” “Just a moment!” said Threap, cut the string of the parcel, and ran his eye rapidly over the parchments, making the baronet’s anger glow till he had difficulty in controlling it. What the lawyer had seen served so much to satisfy him, that it gave him more self-possession for the part he had next to play. “ Doctor,” he said, “ pull your chair this way, and give Sir Nigel a fair understanding of what you consent to do.” Dingyleaf obeyed ; but he had scarcely strength enough to drag his chair forward. When the baronet saw the scholar s face, he half-shuddered at its corpse-like paleness. Dingyleaf, at the very moment, thought the baronet looked like a guilty ghost; and Threap thought that the faces of either would hang them. Threap was regarded by both his companions as the greatest rascal in existence; and yet they both envied his self-pos- session. “ You consent,” began the lawyer, looking at the scholar, “ to destroy the Deed.” “ Speak lower ! whisper ! ” said the baronet. “Yes, yes, whisper!” spake Dingyleaf, for the first time. “You consent,” whispered Threap, “to destroy, in the presence of Sir Nigel Nickem and myself, the Deed relative to the Bridge over the Slowflow, which you have recently discovered, on con- dition of receiving five hundred pounds in ready money, and a bond from Sir Nigel Nickem for the sum of nine thousand five hundred pounds, to be paid you by instalments'?” “ Yes,” said Dingyleaf very faintly, after a struggle of some moments to get the monosyllable uttered. “ At present,” continued Threap, taking his pocket-book from within the breast of his coat, and plucking several bank-notes from it, amounting to one hundred pounds, “ Sir Nigel Nickem hands over to you but a fifth of the ready-money — for which you will give him a receipt on this stamp” — and Threap next drew that from his pocket-book. “ In a very few days, Sir Nigel will 180 ALDERMAN RALPH. pay you four hundred pounds more in this room; and you will then produce the original Bridge Deed, and destroy it here, in his presence and mine.” “But why not produce it now? Where is it?” asked the baronet, forgetting to whisper. “Hush!” said Threap, with a malignant smile; “the doctor has it secreted at his own house at Meadowbeck. I found him here, in Willowacre; and we would have gone over to fetch it — indeed, the doctor proposed it — but I told him we should then be too late to see you.” “Yes, I did,” said Dingyleaf, corroborating the lie which Threap had given a promise to palm upon the baronet. “ Oh, be d — d ! ” said the man of title, pushing back his chair, and speaking pretty audibly; “ d’ye think I’m to be bamboozled? I’ll see the Deed ! How do I know that there is such a thing in existence?” “ Sir Nigel, you could not read it, if you were to see it,” said Threap, laying his hand on his client’s arm ; “ let me remind you of your own request that we should whisper ! I have seen the Deed. I know that it is in existence. I am compelled to speak out, in the doctor’s presence. Do you imagine I would lay down this hundred pounds for mere moonshine? If I be so completely satisfied as to” — “ All right, Threap ! I understand you,” said the baronet, and cursed himself for what he now accounted his stupidity. “ Count the notes, doctor,” said the lawyer, “ while I draw out the receipt.” Dingyleaf tried to count the notes, but could not. He merely kept turning them over. Threap wrote out the receipt without any apparent confusion, and then presented it to Sir Nigel to read, but gave the baronet a look of caution as he handed it over the table. The writing ran thus — “Deceived of Sir Nigel Nickem, baronet, the sum of One Hundred Pounds, in part payment of Five Hundred Pounds, to be received in full when I have produced a certain important ALDERMAN RALPH. 181 document and destroyed it, in the presence of the said Sir Nigel Nickem.” Sir Nigel cast a look of discontent at the lawyer; but the lawyer returned it with a shrug of the shoulders, and another look which the baronet interpreted to mean, “We must not at- tempt to push him any further at first.” Dingy leaf was still helplessly turning over the bills, and saw none of these signs. “Now, doctor, I hope you find the money all right,” said Threap, putting the receipt before him ; “ please to sign that, and the business will be so far accomplished.” “ Whafc — what — is it?” stammered the great scholar, unable to comprehend the writing. “ I’ll read it to you,” said the lawyer; and read it accordingly. “ I — I — would rather not sign that,” said Dingyleaf, who had secretly resolved to refuse committing himself by writing, or signing any writing. “ Rather not sign it ! ” exclaimed Threap, but taking care to preserve the whisper ; “ what d’ye mean ? ” “ What’s that?” said the baronet, looking at the room-door — for there was a slight noise. Dingyleaf’s teeth chattered. Threap sprung up, and was at the door in an instant, and opened it. “ Did Sir Nigel ring?” asked Sol Topple, looking very sheepish as he was caught at the door. “No, sir,” replied Threap; “you know he did not.” “I thought I heard” — “You thought nothing of the kind, sir,” said Threap, with an oath ; “ please to let gentlemen transact their concerns without your eavesdropping!” Sol Topple hurried down-stairs without another word of reply ; and Threap closed the door, with an imprecation on his “ prying impudence,” and was again seated, almost in an instant. Threap saw that the baronet looked miserably uneasy, and renewed his question to the still more miserable-looking Dingyleaf. “ What d’ye mean, doctor?” he said, with another fearful oath, 182 ALDERMAN RALPH. uttered between bis teeth ; “ is not this all a thing of your own doing, and your own seeking? Have you not stolen the parch- ment from the archives’ chamber, like a thief and a villain as you are, and betrayed your trust? And can’t I transport you for it, if I choose? And, though part of the money is before you, do you have the impudence to doubt Sir Nigel’s honour, and re- fuse to sign that receipt — which, after all, does not mention the Bridge Deed, and commits you in no way whatever?” “ I — -I — did not understand it so,” gasped the terrified scholar. “ Then listen to it, again ! ” said Threap ; and again read it. “ I’ll — I’ll sign it,” said Dingyleaf ; and sign it he did — though with much difficulty ; and Threap immediately handed the docu- ment to the baronet. Sir Nigel received it mechanically; but let it drop on the table. Threap observed the action, but did not appear to do so ; and, turning to Dingyleaf, addressed him in a cajoling manner — “Come, rally your spirits, doctor,” he said; “put up the bills in your pocket. You are all right, man, if you can but think so. We shall have four hundred pounds more for you, in two or three days, and may be another thousand by the end of a week. Sir Nigel has sent to his steward in Cornwall for money ; but you know farmers are often backward with their rents ; and Sir Nigel,” he continued turning towards his client with a laugh, “ is too good a landlord, and too easy” — Sir Nigel forced a grim laugh. “Now, come, pluck up!” went on Threap; “get a good stiff glass of brandy before you go out of the inn; and then get away to” — and he whispered in the ear of the now reddening Dingy- leaf. “Good-night, doctor! I’ll see you to-morrow,” Threap concluded, taking Dingyleaf’s hand, and at the same time giving the baronet a look of entreaty. “Good-night, doctor,” said Sir Nigel, and forced himself to offer his hand to the scholar, who took it nervously, and then disappeared. “Now, do you call to mind something that I omitted? and do ALDERMAN RALPH. 183 you know the reason that I have omitted it?” asked Threap, with a look of cleverness, when Dingyleaf had gone, and Threap had closed the door upon him. “ No, ” answered the baronet, whose bewildering sense of dan- ger and guilt impaired his memory. “ I proposed this morning,” went on the lawyer, “ that Dingy- leaf, when he had destroyed the Deed, should swear to the cor- poration that he had not been able to find it. I now propose that he shall be brought to swear that without our urgency. I have found the instruments; and they will force him to it with- out delay.” " Instruments!” repeated Sir Nigel, terrified at the danger he thought there was in the word; “ why, you have not been so rash and mad as to let others into this fearful secret, have you?” “ I have not been so rash and mad, I should think,” answered Threap, with some contempt : “ I have done this : I have assured Plombline and Backstitch that you and I believe Dingyleaf knows that there is no Deed in existence ; and that it is time his farce of search was put an end to, that the whole Bridge af- fair may be settled comfortably for yourself. That settlement, you know, they pledged themselves, long ago, to effect ; and there is no doubt they will be able to effect it now, if Dingyleaf swears that he has found nothing, and that there is nothing to be found. If, on the contrary, the hope of finding the old parchment be still kept alive, Trueman’s party is strengthening again so fast, that it will not be possible to obtain a majority in the corpora- tion in favour of releasing you from your election promises about the Bridge. The iron must be struck now, or it will cool : only — the instruments should be oiled. Don’t ye take?” “ Take wliat? ” asked the baronet, disgusted with his prime minister’s coarse familiarity, and inwardly blaming himself for having borne it till it was not easy now to forbid it : “ Do you mean that I am to bribe Plombline and Backstitch? Have I not promised them patronage? That is enough, I should think?’’ “ But a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. Don’t 184 ALDERMAN RALPH. give yourself a moment’s trouble as to where the money is to bo had. Draw a couple of bills upon me for one hundred pounds each, payable a month hence. You’ll have the money by that time, and you can make it all right with me. Enclose these in a note, expressing your high sense of their services. You need not write a single syllable committing yourself. Leave me to say all that must be said. I tell you they must be set to work ins antly; and 1M see them this very night. To-morrow, they shall board Dingyleaf and carry him with flying colours ; and the corporation itself shall be carried within a week ; and neither you nor me be seen or known, or even suspected to be movers.” Threap was excited with his own masterly generalship, as he held it to be. Sir Nigel’s heart leaped at the prospects depic- tured by the lawyer; and he smiled to show his approval of Threap’s scheme; but also to conceal exultant thoughts of ad- ditional villainy which entered his mind, as well as contempt for what he deemed to be Threap’s shortsightedness. “ The fool ! ” he thought — “ he does not see, that if he pushes Dingyleaf into an instant assertion that there is no Deed to be found, I can de- fy this scarecrow of a doctor so soon as the parchment is burnt, and refuse, safely, to pay the rascal another farthing.” Sir Nigel drew the two bills upon Threap, wrote the compli- mentary notes to Plombline and Backstitch, and sealed them, when he had enclosed the bills, with his own seal. Threap, meanwhile, was writing out the “ acknowledgment” that the title- deeds to the Barleyacre estate were received by him, in trust for Sir Nigel Nickem, and for the purpose of making out a convey- ance of the property, when it should be sold to — blank. The lawyer took the notes at the baronet’s hand, handed him the ac- knowledgment, and begun to wrap the parcel iu a silk handker- chief. Threap was glad — demoniacally glad — to see his grand client put the writing in his pocket, after giving only a running glance at it; but remarked that Dingyleaf ’s receipt for the hun- dred pounds still lay on the table. “ You are forgetting that,” he said, pointing to it. ALDERMAN RALPH. 185 “Is there any need that I take it?” asked the other. “ It is of no use to any body else/’ said Threap. The baronet feared he should look weakly timid in the lawyer’s eyes if he said more about it ; and, besides, the thought struck him that be could burn it; so he took it up without any other remark, and put it into his pocket with the other writing. “Well, Threap, you know I go out to-morrow, as I told you,” said Sir Nigel, as they rose from the table; “but I expect to hear of capital progress when I see you the next day. Will you be here by noon?” “ I will,” said Threap ; and they immediately descended the inn-stairs, shook hands at the door and separated, — the baronet to return to Lovesoup House, — and Threap, with the parcel under his arm, and the notes in his pocket, to the house of Mr. Nicky, according to appointment. It was near midnight; but Plombline and Nicky were yet expecting Threap ; and when he presented them with the baronet’s notes, their eyes glistened, and their entire demeanour showed that Threap had only to give the word and they would obey ! So the lesser triple conspiracy sat down, and forthwith proceeded to business : Threap opening it, and the other two eagerly attend- ing to him. “ This great booby of a scholar has pestered you and others,” began the lawyer, “ with crazy questions of how much you think the corporation ought to give him if he finds the Deed that old Trueman dreams of. There is no such document ; and Dingy leaf knows it.” Nicky was unaffectedly amazed, and showed it ; and Plombline imitated him, but doubted the truth of Threap’s asseveration. “ I may tell you, that Dingy leaf has confessed to me that he has gone diligently over every document to be found in the archives’ chamber, and believes there is no such thing in exist- ence. Of course, he’ll keep on, pretending to search for it, merely with the intent of claiming a considerable sum for spend- ing so much time about it. That’s what he means. But I ap- 186 ALDERMAN RALPH. peal to you, whether it he fair to Sir Nigel to suffer this annoyance to continue, merely that old Trueman’s party may gather strength and annoy him more.” "It is infamous!” declared little Nicky. "It must and shall be put an end to,” declared Plombline. " That’s the way to say it, gentlemen,” said Threap ; " and I’ll tell you what Sir Nigel has suggested: that you charge the doctor roundly to-morrow with his trifling, and force him to confess to you what he has confessed to me privately. You see it was said — as we say — over the bottle, and while we were in friendly talk, and of course I don’t like to force him to speak out. It would not look neighbourly on my part ; but then, you know, Sir Nigel’s interests must be cared for.” " And they shall be. We’ll force him out!” said Plombline. "That we will!” declared little Nicky. " Beware of one thing, however ! ” observed Threap ; " that the doctor, although so ignorant of the world, is very subtle. If you go roughly about it, he may turn restive. Reason with him; and promise him your earnest interest with the corpora- tion for a good sum by way of remuneration for his labour. Try him that way — and, if stupid still, I’ll tell you of a threat that will move him.” The lawyer burst into his old animal laugh; and the two looked curious. Threap related to them, under a promise of strict secresy, the fact of Dingyleaf’s concealment of Mr. Ralph’s servant-girl at Nykin Noddlepate’s; and instructed them to threaten him with exposure. " He can’t stand that,” affirmed Threap ; " you will have him on his knees, promising any thing if you threaten to show him up.” The two rubbed their hands with delight. " The instant you have his confession, go to the mayor, insist on his summoning the corporation together, and calling Dingy- leaf before it ; and when the doctor has made his statement, and old Trueman’s dream is ended, demand there and then, while the ALDERMAN RALPH. 187 tide is in your favour, that justice be done to Sir Nigel. You know what I mean ! ” “ And we’ll have it done, too,” said Plombline. “ Yes, Sir Nigel shall have justice,” added Nicky. “ Now, gentlemen, I’m sure I may leave the matter in your able hands,” continued the lawyer ; “ you will discharge your con- sciences, like honourable men. In the future, I see rewards in store for you. Sir Nigel is a gentleman, every inch of him; and so you will have the pleasure of proving.” “We have no doubt of it, Mr. Threap,” declared the two together. “For myself, gentlemen, I am but an instrument; but — I — I may say, I have taken the liberty to speak a good word for you.” “We have no doubt of it, Mr. Threap,” said Mr. Nicky. “We always had the highest confidence in you, and respect for you,” said Plombline. “ Yes, always,” added the lying Nicky. “ That affair of the dirty fiddler gives me some uneasiness,” ob- served the lawyer; “you have let no one see him, I hope 1 ?” “None,” said they both. “Command us in any way, Mr. Threap, and we will serve you,” added Plombline; “it will, in- deed, be merely serving the ends of justice. This low knave and thief ought to have been sent out of the country at the time of the Bridge riot. I have hated the sight of the impudent rascal ever since.” “Yes, and so have I,” said Nicky; “but you see Trueman always protected the fellow.” “ There is the danger, I see again, in this new case against him,” said Threap. “ Trueman hates me, and I know he has no love for either of you; and, depend upon it, he’ll try to break the case down, although the evidence must be regarded as so clear and undeniable.” “ If Trueman shows any such low malice, I’ll show him my teeth,” declared Plombline, vengefuily. 188 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ You’ll see it will require spirit on the part of you both?’ hinted Threap. “Oh, he shall not cow me!” declared Nicky. “ You take care that nobody sees the Irishman — the king’s evidence, I mean,” said Threap. “Not a soul has been permitted to see him,” answered Plomb- line; “you think Trueman or some of his party might tamper with the man'?” “Not at all unlikely: they are mean enough for any thing.” “ They are : it’s true,” asseverated the two, emphatically. “ All I ask of you, gentlemen, is protection for the Irishman and for poor old Nykin — for I know they have a spite against him, too, on account of the honest part he took on a former occasion.” “No doubt of it. He and the other shall have our protection, Mr. Threap,” avowed Plombline. “They shall neither of them be browbeaten,” said little Nicky, stoutly. “ As for me, you know,” began the lawyer — “I wish they may browbeat you!” cried the two, shaking their heads and laughing loudly. Threap joined the laughter; and, after shaking hands with extraordinary fervour, the three separated, and the lawyer took his way towards the bridge, for Meadowbeck. ALDERMAN RALPH. 189 CHAPTER II. A feeling-hearted Apostrophe to the Fallen : the Toll-keeper finds something out, and falls into a Soliloquy, which calls forth more of the Author’s philosophy. Ah ! poor, fallen Betty Brown — you who imagined yourself so cunning in placing those classic love-letters of the eccentric Dingyleaf in mysterious hiding-places for the surprise of sweet May ; and still more cunning in diverting the great scholar from his strange passion, and making him enamoured of your fair self ! — you who frighted sweet May, in the shape of a gliding ghost, that anxious night ; and who tossed your head so scornfully, once upon a time, at Jack Jigg! — what worlds you would give this night, when so much villainy is being transacted, to be as inno- cent and happy as you were once, under the roof of worthy Al- derman Ralph, before ever the Meadowbeck man of learning came there, and proud and erring thoughts entered your heart, and you, erringly, cherished them ! If you were some lovelorn, forsaken princess, or high-born lady, Betty Brown, I might sigh out my soul about your wrongs for some half-dozen pages, and my reader would deem it very proper and creditable to the feelings of his author; but since your father was no other than poor Ned Brown the ditcher, and your mother is only the pauper widow of Meadowbeck, I must not shed a tear for you. Yet, if I may not, I can spite my reader by letting him know, that you do not, with all your misery, shed a tear for yourself, and would scorn to receive the tearful sympathies of others ! Jack Jigg does not keep his pro- mise to revisit you : you little imagine the reason of it, truly ; and yet you are imagining all sorts of reasons for it. Yile old 190 ALDERMAN RALPH. Hykin Hoddlepate pretends to wonder that Jack does not come, when you question him, and express your impatience ; and you are compelled, when that other guilty secret visiter is gone, to sink into apparent quietude. What will you do, if Jack does not come the next night, and the next 1 ? You know, from what Dingyleaf has told you, that if Jack does not come to the rescue by that time, you must depend on your own courage and prudence, or you are irretrievably ruined. You are suffering for your sins, Betty Brown; but you are not sinking into de- spair. Like a true Englishwoman, you are resolving, if no one comes to help you, that you will help yourself. Resolve more deeply, Betty ; and, when the time comes, may you succeed — for the sake of noble Alderman Ralph, and the cause of right, as well as for your own poor sake ! Good-night, Betty, good-night ! Dingyleaf, on his way from old Yykin’s, is overtaken by Threap, and, before they have reached the Bridge, they hear the slow tramp of the ancient watchmen, and whisper — “ Glad I’ve overtaken you, doctor! We shall be company home. Have you succeeded 1” “Ho. I don’t know what to do with her.” “You fool! do with her as I advised you” — and the lawyer added a horrible imprecation. “ I can’t. I doat upon her. I should be too miserable to outlive her. I should be afraid of my own shadow ! ” “You silly old goat! I could cut my own father’s throat without a single misgiving, if I knew it would make my fortune.” “ God be merciful to us ! you frighten me ! ” “ Silence, you dolt ! I see there’s Markpence standing by the toll-gate — I should like to cut his throat. Good-night, Mark- pence ! ” said the lawyer, as he and the scholar paid their penny each into the hand of Gregory : “ Good-night ! ” also said Dingy- leaf ; but Gregory responded to neither. Gregory had, during two hours past, caught sight of two figures coming up to the toll-gate from the Meadowbeck and Barleyacre side of the water, standing for a few moments and ALDERMAN RALPH. 191 looking over tlie gate, and then retiring again over the bridge. They repeated this over and over again. Their features Gregory could not see ; but merely the outline of their forms, through the very small window on that side of his house nearest the gate. Gregory’s courage has already been shown to be only of the fitful or spasmodic kind ; and he could not gather it up to go out to the gate while observing so much — but he opened his door some tenth of an inch, and placed his ear at the crevice. They mut- tered words he could not distinguish, except an expletive or two commonly used by the Irish. An important suspicion entered Gregory’s mind; but it did not help his courage. Hot until he heard steps approaching from the town did he gather resolution to go out to the gate. Threap and Dingyleaf passed through the toll-gate, as already described; and now Markpence felt girt up by the occasion to venture on an enterprise of cautious boldness. Gregory awoke his wife, and told her he must follow two per- sons who had crossed the bridge. The poor woman gently remonstrated against being left alone at that early hour of the morning; but she knew her husband’s temper too well to dare to resist him. So soon as his wife had dressed herself, and come down-stairs, Gregory took one of his double-barrelled guns in his hand, and, pointing to the other, exhorted her to “ keep herself quiet, for she was safe enough” — bade her lock the door after him — and, promising to be back soon, set off over the bridge. Avoiding a large bend of the road to Meadowbeck, Gregory struck across a field, and sped over some gates well known by him, until he came to the commencement of a high hedge, which ran for some half mile along the side of the common road to Meadowbeck. Here he pulled off his shoes, thrust them into the pockets of his great-coat, and, with the gun in his hand, began to move carefully along the hedge-side, so soon as the party came up in the lane. Three or four times, Gregory had to swerve from the high hedge-side in order to find the passage over trans- verse hedges ; and thus lost parts of the conversation. But he gathered enough of it to assure him, that his suspicions were well 192 ALDERMAN RALPH. founded. He burned to bear more ; but be dared not venture beyond tbe line of tbe bigb hedge, lest be should be seen. Al- ready he bad trembled two or three times, when he had trodden on some rotten stick that snapped, and Dingyleaf had uttered words of alarm; but Threap, being absorbed in swearing and raging at the two Irishmen, had not heard the sound, treated the scholar’s fear with contempt, and so the party passed on. Gregory put on his shoes, and hastened back to the toll-house; released his wife from the watch; and, stirring up the fire, sat down to cogitate — and thus ran his thoughts : — “ Shall I give myself any trouble about it'? Why should I] No doubt Jigg is suffering wrongfully; and by a cunning mali- cious trick of this devil of a lawyer. But the lawyer lets me and mine alone, now ; and he never says a word about the money I got out of him. I made him pay for his attempt at roguery; the lass is no worse for him; and I’ve got the lease, in spite of him. So we are quits. He is not in my debt, at any rate ; and he has done me no real harm. Had I not better * let well-be alone?’ He’ll wriggle himself out of any scrape; nobody can snickle him; and I could not prevent him from wreaking his will upon this poor fiddler, if I were to try. But I might bring the lawyer’s vengeance upon myself. And, if he once begins his schemes against me anew, all his old malice will rise up, and he may ruin either me or the lass — or perhaps us both ! ” Gregory hitched back in his chair, changed the crossing of his legs, and therewith — such is the mystic influence of man’s phy- sical movements upon his intellectual — such their inexplicable sympathy and connection ! — he changed his resolution to think no more about it, and so went on to think again. “ Bad philo- sophy ! ” I expected somebody would say so. Then, how was it? why was it? If the hitching back in the chair, and the change in the crossing of the legs, had nothing to do with the other change — what had to do with it? It’s all very well for conceited people to “pooh” and “pish” and “pshaw,” at the “why and the wherefore,” given by some other people for these most ALDERMAN RALPH. 193 important of all movements — the movements of the mind ; hut if said conceited people are too lazy to find out, or invent, or guess at, any “ why or wherefore,” I take the liberty to say I think it would more become them to say nothing about it. All that I shall do more, in the present stage of the argument — which, you know, might be continued through a summer’s day, or a whole summer, if you and I were disposed for it, and belike not be ended either — all that I shall do more is to affirm, that while Gregory Markpence changed his corporal position by the fireside that night, he also changed his position mental; and, instead of giving up thinking, went on to think — thus : — “ And yet it looks ungrateful; for Jigg’s the only man that ever did me a real kindness. Not but that other folks might ha’ done me a kindness if I would have let ’em. But I was born with such a cursedly crabbed nature — all verjuice, like! — that I’ve turned every body sour almost that ever came near me. Kindness? This poor fiddler has done me more than one. To be sure I am out of his debt for the first — the saving of the girl from the lawyer’s foul paws. I bore honest witness that he was not at the Bridge Biot. And I don’t know who else would have done it that had been in my place. I risked Sir Nigel’s dis- pleasure by it. But I’m certainly in Jack’s debt for the lease. I don’t think I should ever have had it, save for him. Ay, and then he took care of Madge again, and drew her out of tempta- tion from the whiskered fellows at Pevensey’s, and she’s now fixed well. “ No : I must not see him ruined for lack of a little exertion. And yet, where could I go to seek these Irish rascals? They’ll not go far out of the way — for Threap will not give ’em money enough. And if they could be laid hold of, they could either be wheedled or frightened into telling the truth, and confounding the lawyer. At least, what they said would make the other rascal’s oath doubtful. What shall I do? Shall I try to find where they are skulking? I must think about it. “ And then my own evidence would be flat against the law- VOL. II. O 194 ALDERMAN RALPH. yer; and I ought to go and give it. There again, I shall bring his vengeance upon me — unless they commit him for perjury; but, then, they’ll be afraid of him — not even Alderman Ralph will have the courage to tackle him : if he fails in wreaking his spite upon Jack, he’ll have some quirk to prevent himself from coming by harm — and, after all I may do for Jack, the lawyer may perhaps get me turned out of the toll-house, or worse. One ought not to ruin one’s-self in trying to save others. At least no- body ever did it for me. I must think it over again,” continued Gregory, crossing his legs the other way. And Gregory crossed his legs, and in consequence — I still defiantly maintain; and there’s my gage — a homely Leicester -woven brown cotton glove, which my wife, God bless her! has newly dearned — in conse- quence, I say, his thoughts, so often — that at last they mystified him altogether, and he fell asleep. He awoke, stiff and cold, and with the fire out, at five in the morning, to open the gate for a waggoner with corn from Meadowbeck ; but not until the poor rustic had knocked aloud many times. Gregory then called his wife up, and went to bed himself; and there we will leave him for the present, and end the chapter — for the last was too long — which the reader will not dispute. ALDERMAN RALPH. 19 5 CHAPTER III. Shows that the great Scholar of the four Pronomina is not a Hero ; and that the Lawyer keeps his Courage amidst untoward Circumstances. O Aquinas Buonaventura Petrus-Lombardus Duns-Scotus Dingyleaf, most shamefully neglected and deeply injured scholar and gentleman, for whom society had done nothing ! is this the fruition of your doughty resolution to change your grand philoso- phy, and do something for society? There you stand, trembling before a tailor and a builder ! you lie, you shuffle, you equivocate, -and you threaten and defy ; and you are defied and threatened in return, and when all coaxing fails, by little Nicky and Hugh Plombline! And, at last, you fall down on your knees in the archives’ chamber, and entreat that your guilt in the matter of Betty Brown be concealed, and you will say or do any thing ! They have given their aldermanic “ word and honour” that no one shall have your secret — one of your guilty secrets — from them ; they — but especially short-sighted Nicky- — have no suspicion of your other black secret ; and you have promised them to testify before the corporation of Willowacre, in council assembled, that you have carefully inspected every parchment among the borough records and have not found the original Bridge Deed, and that you do not believe it to be in existence ! Away Hugh Plomb- line and Nicky have gone to the office of Mr. Pomponius Prate- well; and you have promised to remain in the archives’ chamber till they return with him, and to make the same declaration to him, that he may lock up the door, and end your pretended search. Mr. Pomponius breathlessly attends — but the great scholar of the four pronomina is gone ! 196 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ The doctor did not stay five minutes after tlieir worships left him, sir,” says the mayor’s officer to the town-clerk; “ he hnrried away as fast as he could go.” Little Nicky and Plombline looked at one another, and at Mr. Pomponius, very confusedly. “ I understood you to say that the doctor said he would wait,” said Mr. Pomponius to the two ; “ perhaps he had some necessity to go out. I suppose we had better wait for him a while.” “ I don’t think that will be of any use,” answered Plombline ; “ you may certainly lock up the chamber, for the doctor’s search is over.” “ But I have no authority to do that,” reasoned the town-clerk ; “ I must have the doctor’s request or the council’s warrant for it. You see all the parchments are strewed about, as if the doctor intended to continue his labour. I don’t know what to make of it.” “Not know what to make of it, Mr. Pratewell] Do you mean to insult Mr. Backstitch and myself, by telling us that you do not believe our word]” demanded Plombline, angrily. “Yes, sir: do you mean to insult us]” echoed little Nicky, holding up his chin, and looking as quarrelsome as a bantam cock when its mettle is up. “ Gentlemen, I beg you will each keep your temper,” answered Mr. Pomponius Pratewell, with dignity. “ I think we had better wait a little, and see if the doctor returns. Bemember that I am a responsible officer, and I prefer to act prudently. Besides, you may naturally conclude that I wish to have this declaration — full of heavy disappointment although it be — from the doctor’s own mouth. Let us wait a while, if you please.” “ Oh ! we can wait if you like,” said Hugh. “ Yes! if you like,” repeated Nicky. More than an hour of uneasy waiting, and that of angry silence on the part of Plombline and Nicky, did not bring Dingyleaf back ; but it enabled him to get to his own house at Meadowbeck, and to hide himself in his bed-chamber, after giving strict order to his servants to deny that he was at home. ALDERMAN RALPH. 197 Mr. Pomponius consented to lock up the door; hut ordered the mayor’s officer to remain by it, and to bring him instant word if Dingyleaf returned. Plombline and Backstitch next went to the mayor, Diggory Cleavewell, and peremptorily demanded that he should summon the council forthwith to hear their testimony; but, having consulted with Alderman Balph and the town-clerk, he refused until Dingyleaf could be spoken with. Plombline and Nicky half determined to publish the secret of Dingyleaf ’s guilty amour, by way of revenge upon him; but they reflected that he might then take the counter-revenge of denying what he had confessed and promised; and so they resolved to wait for Threap’s advice — and, in the mean time, spread the report over Vvdllowaere, that the scholar said no Deed was to be found, and thus threw the old borough into new alarm. Once they thought of going over to Meadowbeck, and trying to bring Dingyleaf back to Willowacre, if they should find him; yet, as Threap had promised to be with them again soon, they agreed it was better to wait for Threap. The whole day passed over, however, and Threap did not come. He was hard at work making out a hasty conveyance of the Barley acre estate, and a mortgage deed of his own house and land; and had sent off a messenger with an urgent note requesting the presence of a neighbouring capitalist, and that without delay. His acquaintance with the monied ability and disposition for investment of persons in the neighbourhood was necessarily extensive; and he had fixed on one who he knew would be ready to lend a couple of thousands without demur — especially when assured that it might lead to a still more advantageous investment. In the evening of that day, Threap had the two thousand jxmnds in his possession; and so soon as he could get rid of the mortgage, he set to again at the Barley acre conveyance, and worked hard to complete it till beyond midnight, and consi- derably into the early morning. And, by the following noon, the lawyer was again at the Bed Lion, paid two thousand pounds into the eager hands of the 198 ALDERMAN RALPH. baronet, and obtained bis signature to the conveyance of tbe Barleyacre estate. Sir Nigel objected to sign without knowing the name of the purchaser; but Threap “ managed” him : that is to say, set him on guessing, and led him to believe, when he had mentioned the name of a neighbouring landholder, that he had guessed aright. They separated with the understanding that Threap should bring Dingyleaf to the Bed Lion on the evening of the following day ; and that the scholar should there and then be paid four hundred pounds by the baronet, and should then immediately destroy the Bridge Deed, in the presence of his comrades and abettors in villainy. The lawyer had assured Sir Nigel Nickem, that he felt confident of the success of Plombline and Backstitch in the mischief he had set them upon; but was angered and disappointed when he reached Nicky’s house, and learned how shabbily Dingyleaf had absconded, and how the mayor and town-clerk had treated his fellow-conspirators. Threap bit his nails and swore ; but recol- lected that that would not remove the check to his plans which had been created by the disappearance of Dingyleaf. “ Which way did he go? D’ye know?” he asked. “ Over the biidge,” said Nicky; “ we have learnt that from several who saw him.” “And, without doubt, he is at home at Meadowbeck,” said Plombline ; “ we must have him here — for we have spread the report of his confession every where — and some of the Trueman party may go over and get him to contradict us. Backstitch and I had better go with you, and all three of us insist on his coming with us to Willowacre immediately.” “Stop!” said Threap; “that will not do. You’ll frighten him out of his wits ; and he might contradict you point-blank. I must manage him myself. You stick to your story here ; and I’ll go back at once, and sing a song in his ear — a song that will bring him to his senses, I’ll warrant you.” Threap put on his hat, thrust it hard down on his head, and ALDERMAN RALPH. 199 was striding towards the door with a determined look, when he suddenly turned hack and said — “ You have not given any body a hint about Betty Brown, have ye?” The lawyer’s friends told him they had not. “ Then, for your lives, don’t mention it,” said the lawyer; “ I’ll give you a good reason for it when we’ve got him brought up to the scratch — but you must excuse me now. I’m off.” “You remember that to-morrow is the magistrates’ weekly meeting?” said Plombline. “ Of course, I do,” replied Threap ; “ but we can talk about that when I return. I’ll not be late” — and Threap crossed the threshold, and hastened out of Willowacre, for Meadowbeck. The pretences of Dingyleaf’s servants, that their master was not at home, did not avail with the lawyer. They were compelled to go and inform the scholar of Threap’s arrival ; and, in a few minutes, the lawyer was by Dingyleaf’s bedside. But now difficulties thickened. There lay the fugitive; but he was help- less with sickness and terror. His trusty man-servant, who remained in the room, and closed the door as Threap entered, averred that Dingy leaf had eaten nothing since he came home on the preceding day, had merely swallowed a little wine and water, and had lain on the bed, in a state of apparent unconsciousness, ever since — except that he had, three or four times, started up and cried out that he would have no physician fetched. “ And a very sensible thing of him,” said Threap quickly ; “he needs no physic, John, not he. The fact is, that the doctor has worked so hard to finish his search among yon detestable old parchments that it has shaken him. He’ll soon be better. Go down-stairs, and get a pailful of hot water; and we’ll raise him up and put his feet in it. Bring it up yourself, J ohn — d’ye hear?” John gave a significant nod, and left the chamber. “ Don’t ye know me, doctor?” said Threap, bending down to the white, ghastly face of the frightened sick man. 200 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ Yes, yes!” answered Dingyleaf, perfectly conscious; “ but I’m very ill — I am indeed.” “ More frightened than sick,” thought Threap ; but he did not say so. He saw clearly enough that he must disguise his vexa- tion, and use gentle methods, or Dingyleaf — now his most necessary instrument — would become altogether useless. So the lawyer talked soothingly; and when John came up with the hot water, and had poured it into a foot-bath, and added sufficient cold water to it to render it of a convenient temperament, they coaxed the scholar to sit up and put his feet into it. With more coaxing he was persuaded to eat, and then to drink a couple of glasses of wine ; and with many wondrously kind words — wondrously kind for Threap, Dingyleaf thought they were — the scholar was laid in bed again, advised to try and get some restorative rest; and Threap left him, promising to look in upon him again in the course of two or three hours. Closing his study door, and beginning to taste his brandy, the lawyer surveyed his position; and soon decided that it w r as not at all shaken. “ So far from being unlucky,” he said to himself, “ this may be a favourable circumstance. It is better that this impudent fiddler’s business should be decided before Dingyleaf tells True- man and the mayor, to their faces, that the Bridge Deed is all a farce. It would render Alderman Ralph outrageous. And, besides, the doctor will be driven into a corner when we have got him to bum the parchment. He’ll feel the courage of despair then; and deny the existence of the Deed resolutely. “ Yes, yes!” he continued, swallowing another bumper of neat brandy, “ all’s right ; and I’ll write to Plombline and Backstitch to tell ’em so — for I must remain at Meadowbeck to-day, and nurse this chicken-hearted wretch, or he will fail us at the great pinch to-morrow night. I shall bring him round again, when I tell him that the four hundred pounds are ready for him.” The lawyer wrote the note, and despatched a messenger with it to the house of Mr. Nicky, at Willowacre. Drawing out ALDERMAN RALPH. 201 the conveyance which had been signed by Sir Nigel Nickem, he next inserted his own name in the vacant places which had been left for it in the parchment. It was glorious, he thought, as he appealed again to his own villainous heart and the brandy-bottle ! Threap soon revisited the great scholar, cheered him mightily by assuring him that Sir Nigel had the money ready ; made him eat and drink again ; and at a third visit, in the evening, got him down-stairs, and saw his nervousness vanish so completely that he seemed to be himself again. Agreeing, for strong reasons, to return to Meadowbeck after the magistrates’ meeting was over at Willowacre on the morrow, Threap took his leave of Dingyieaf after seeing him comfortably put to bed. It was not the lawyer s hour for bed, however. To free him- self from some restless thoughts which had been crowding upon him during the last hour he sat with Dingy leaf, he strode away towards a miserable little cottage at the farther end of the village of Oatacre. He stopped to listen at the low door when he reached it; but there was no room for doubt. He bitterly cursed the voices he heard ; and then gave a faint knock. A woman came to the door. “ I want Mick and Dennis,” said the lawyer; 66 tell ’em to come out.” One of them came out; but protested that the other was ill. Threap told him it was false. Mick persisted in his assertion. Threap raged in an under breath, not daring to speak aloud :■ — “ You promised me to be miles away by this time; and here you are yet, like a couple of lying thieves that you are,” he said, with a string of execrations. “ Sure now, and it’s hard, yer honour,” whined Mick, “ to say them bad words about poor craturs. Isn’t it God Almighty now, and sure it isn’t poor Dennis’s ownself, that makes him sick?” “ I don’t believe it,” said Threap, with an oath ; “ you’re only deceiving me, and robbing me into the bargain. Haven’t I given you money to go away — quite enough to keep you for a 202 ALDERMAN RALPH. month — and have not I promised you more, when all is safe over?” “ Couldn’t yer honour give us another sovereign, and I’ll be bound for it, Dennis will be well enough to go in the morning?” u I’ll give you two if you’ll go to-night.” “ To-night ! the Lord look down in mercy upon poor craturs ! — And where will we go to-night? Sure it isn’t to night yer honour says?” “ To-night ! ” Threap repeated, in a savage way. Mike passed into the cottage, and, in a few minutes, reappeared with Dennis. Threap put a sovereign into the right hand of one, and gave a like sum to the other, saying — “ Now, budge! and that quickly, o,r,” he added with a terrible oath, “ you shall repent it ! ” “ Och, yer honour! we’ll be a score miles off before the morning light!” vowed Mick. The Irishmen marched off, with their stout sticks in hand, and seemingly in right earnest. Threap walked home; but disliked his meeting with the two vagrants more than any thing that had occurred of late. ALDERMAN RALPH. 203 CHAPTER IV. Containing not very important Matter at the beginning; but, anon, entering into the very heart of Danger with Betty Brown. Although our chronicle has brought the clay to a close with the lawyer, we must not neglect to relate how other actors in this veritable history were affected in the former and latter part of the day. Somewhat early, Gilbert Pevensey called on Mr. Pomponius Pratewell, expressed great regret that he should have been from home when the town-clerk’s note was sent, and extreme concern at what had befallen Jack Jigg. Mr. Pom- ponius had no sooner given Gilbert a brief summary of the charge against the poor fiddler, than Gilbert asserted his belief of Jack’s innocence, and proposed that they should immediately proceed to the house of Mr. Alderman Ralph, and have some conversation with that worthy dignitary. Mr. Pomponius politely hinted that Mr. Ralph, he thought, would prefer that the desired interview should take place there, in his office. But Pevensey repeated his wish to go at once to Mr. Ralph’s, and so Mr. Pomponius politely yielded to accompany him thither. Mr. Ralph heard the announcement of Gilbert’s name with some surprise, remembering how he had treated Gilbert at a former visit ; but the deep concern he felt for our minstrel, moved him to lay aside unpleasant remembrances; and he received Pevensey and Mr. Pratewell with respectful kindness. May, it should be observed, had retired immediately on hearing Pevensey’s name announced. 204 ALDERMAN RALPH. The conversation in Mr. Balph’s parlour need not be rehearsed. Suffice it to say, that it elicited one statement on the part of Pevensey, which both Mr. Palph and the town-clerk held it important he should be ready to make on oath at the re- examination of Jack before the magistrates, the next morn- ing; and Gilbert declared he should feel it to be his duty to comply. In the course of the day, learning that the reports of Dingy- leaf’s declaration, that the Bridge Deed was not in existence, were increasingly rife in the borough, Mr. Balph moved the mayor to send over a messenger to Meadowbeck, to desire that the scholar would attend in person at Willowacre, or signify, by writing, why he had desisted from his search in the archives’ chamber. Dingyleaf’s servant assured the messenger that his master was too ill to be spoken with or disturbed ; and so Mr. Balph and his friends were unable to contradict the prevailing reports, though they refused to credit Plombline and Backstitch, in default of the scholar’s own testimony. All the circumstances of their position towards Sir Nigel Niekem, with every item of the charge against our minstrel, were duly reviewed at the Wheat Sheaf in the evening; but the process of retrospection ended with the serious declaration by Mr. Balph, that they could determine nothing, and must hopefully wait and see what the morrow would bring forth. Jerry Dimple cast many an entreating look at Peter Weather- wake ; but the old man would not consent to release Jerry from his promise, to keep secret the huge danger that impended over Threap. Jerry looked and looked again, and begged as plainly with his eyes as if he had been down on his marrowbones and pleading with folded hands ; but Peter’s solemn look evermore answered — “ Neighbour Dimple, let it go no further!” The spell prevailed, the company broke up as the chimes once more rang out u The old woman a-quaking ; ” and still the secret remained with Peter Weatherwake and Jerry Dimple. ALDERMAN RALPH. 205 While the chimes were ringing out at Willowacre, Threap heard the midnight hour told by the church clock at Meadow- beck, on his return from the cottage where he had found the Irishmen; Dingyleaf was asleep in his own house; and poor Jack Jigg was sleepless in his cold cell, and taking his resolution for behaviour before the magistrates on the morrow ; but there was one whose anxiety was just then keener than that of Threap or poor Jack, and yet the torment of her waking thoughts was not so great as the agony of Dingyleaf in his dreams. Betty Brown heard the music of the chimes with a thrill of such mingled feeling as a soldier may be supposed to hear the sound of the trumpet which is the signal for putting the battle in array. That is a lofty simile to apply to you, poor Betty ! But, in the enterprise you were contemplating, you felt as im- pressively as such a soldier, that triumph or ruin irretrievable, for you, hung upon that hour ! Betty had asked Nykin Hoddlepate a second time, if he could tell why Jack Jigg failed to visit her ; but ]STy kin’s negative was delivered with such a forbidding look, that she did not ask again. Her dread and anxiety were increased by observing, too, that Nykin was sourer, and less disposed to speak to her; and they were wound up to the highest pitch of endurance by Dingyleaf s discontinuance of his visits. She had listened to every sound, during this evening, with excruciating sensitiveness : concluding often that Dingyleaf would come, and a fearful tragedy would signalize her concealment in that haunt of guilt; and then trampling down all fear, and girding up her courage and calm- ness for the coming hour. Half an hour before midnight, every reveller had sunk to sleep ; old Hykin had clambered into his loft, and lowered the heavy door and barred it — such were his customary precautions in the den of thieves that he tenanted; and all was as silent as death. The chimes ceased, and Betty, who had neither undressed nor lain down, stepped to the window of her chamber; took out the nails that fastened the iron-bars across it, which she had previously 206 ALDERMAN RALPH. loosened by noiseless persevering labour; fastened, to a beam above, one end of what might be termed a rope, which she had formed by tying together a coverlid, two sheets, and a blanket ; placed a chair close by the window, that she might step upon it ; doing all with noiseless step, and quiveringly listening ears, and beating heart, but with a firm hand. She was just about to softly undraw the small window-slide, when she caught the sound of slow steps. They came nearer, and she knew they were those of the ancient watchmen. There was the snuffle of Mike Nettle- brake : she remembered it well, for she had often tittered at it when at Mr. Ralph’s. But Betty was not in the tittering mood now. It seemed an hour before the dull heavy feet of the two old billmen had plodded out of hearing. The slide was set open; and now, bars and all were removed, the opening was barely wide enough to permit her egress. The rope of bedclothes was hung out : she listened breathlessly once more for any movement in the evil den: there was none: she mounted the chair, got out with some difficulty, and, descending by the help of the clumsy fashioned rope, just touched with her toes the tiles of an outhouse. There was not another inch of the rope by which she could hold ; and she let it go, and dropped down on the tiles, breaking them with some noise, but not falling-. To hesitate might be ruin. She scrambled down the tiles, and slid to the ground, and fell. She was stunned, for the height of the outhouse was greater than she had calculated it to be, as she had stood and planned her escape, day after day, from her prison. A noise roused her. She thought it was old Nykin that had taken alarm from the breaking of the tiles; and she fled — but took the wrong way- — had to grope some minutes to find a tall gate — climbed it — and with all the speed she could exert, darted down the lane and the street that led to Jack Jigg’s cottage, sprung to the door, and knocked and shook it impatiently with the fear that Nykin might be following her. Martha was soon at the window, was down-stairs the next ALDERMAN RALPH. 207 minute, the door was opened, and immediately closed and fastened — and Betty was safe in Jack Jigg’s cottage. “ Oh, Betty ! I’m glad you are here,” exclaimed Martha, almost before the fugitive had ceased to gasp for breath ; “ and yet you’ve brought me and my poor husband and our children into sore trouble. All will be right now, however ; for you can go to the magistrates’ meeting in the morning, and tell them honestly that Jack went to old Nykin’s to see you, and because you wished him to go. I durstn’t tell Mr. Alderman Balph why Jack went there; fori knew Jack would not forgive me, since he had not told it himself, and had bidden me not to tell it. Yet I should have gone and told the magistrates in the morning, if you had not come; but you must go and tell them yourself, and then Jack cannot blame me.” “ Magistrates ! what are you talking about, Martha 1 ? Where is Jack,” asked Betty, so soon as she could break into Martha’s concatenation of speech. And then Betty received the sorrow- ful news of Jack’s imprisonment, and knew the reason why he had not kept his promise. When Martha had described the search for Threap’s five-pound notes, Betty’s heart swelled with self-congratulation that she had escaped from that den of villainy; and she resolved to keep her word and reward Jack Jigg; but did not purpose complying with the request of J ack’s wife in regard to the magistrates’ meeting. “ Let me get to rest somewhere, Martha,” she said, “ and I hope we shall be able to set all right to-morrow.” Martha thought Betty’s manner did not become one in Betty’s condition ; but she was silenced by it, as Jack had been : and Martha led the way to her own bed, which Betty shared till the morning. Yet, in the morning, Betty refused to go before the magistrates; and not only so, but dissuaded Martha from going. “ Let them get the meeting over, I tell you,” said Betty, in a commanding way, that J ack’s wife knew not how to resist : “ I will then show you what I can do. It will not only break this 208 ALDERMAN RALPH. vile snare of Threap’s, if the magistrates do not break it this morning — but it will astonish every body in Willowacre.” Martha’s heart was with her husband : but Betty’s glistening eyes and strange words held her in a whirl of wonder, and kept her at home. ALDERMAN RALPH. 209 CHAPTER Y. Our Minstrel again before the Magistrates ; and again sent back to Durance vile. “ Speak out this mornings Jack ! you’ll have friends in court,” whispered Mr. Barnabas the constable, as he led the prisoner from the jail door; “ but 'wait till you are asked if you have any thing to say ; and then tell the truth respectfully — respect- fully, mind J ack, but without fear.” “ Thank ye! I will, Mr. Barnabas,” replied the prisoner; and he was led handcuffed along the street, amid the sympathising looks and words of the crowd, to the Guidhall, glad that he was not to be examined this time in an obscure corner. The hall was crowded to the bar that went across it ; Jack was placed at an inner temporary bar as before, and unhand- cuffed ; and saw before him the mayor, Diggory Cleavewell, under the carved canopy, Mr. Pomponius immediately below the mayor, and the full array of aldermen, including Mr. Ralph and Mark Siftall and Mr. Gervase, with Plombline and Backstitch, in their customary seats, on either hand of the chief magistrate. “ There is a chance for fair play,” thought J ack to himself ; “ fair play to-day. But, gadzooks ! who knows whether one may get it, after all, in a world of villainy like this? Never mind, I’ll tell truth— whether it shames Threap and the devil, or not ! ” The crowd behind buzzed and whispered, but were com- paratively still. Jack could not see who were among the numbers, or he might have been interested in the thoughtful faces of old Peter and Jerry Dimple, and in the queer, morose VOL. II. P 210 ALDERMAN RALPH. look of tlie toll-keeper, who, although now treated civilly by everybody, spoke to nobody. Mr. Pomponius, in his capacity as magistrates’ clerk, conducted the business according to the usual form of their weekly meetings : the mayor did not allow Plombline and Mr. Nicky to set him aside, as they had done in their hole-and-corner meeting. The constable was called up, and his evidence already given was read to him ; and he confirmed it. Old Nykin was next called in, and asserted that his evidence was true when it had been read to him ; and seemed in a hurry to go away when he had answered. “ Stop ! ” cried the mayor Diggory, “ some of the court may wish to ask you a question.” “ Oh ! I have no more to say,” said Nyldn; “ that’s all I know about it.” “ Stop, sir, I say!” commanded the mayor; and Nykin, who was stumping away on his wooden leg to the side-door by which he entered, was compelled to halt; and changed colour when he saw the senior alderman rise. “ Noddlepate,” said Mr. Palph, “ you swear that Jigg, the prisoner, has been a great deal at your house of late : can you specify any time that he was there previous to the night on which you state Mr. Threap found him there?” “ Oh ! almost every night for months before. I need not mention any particular time that I can see. I’ve told you all I know about it,” and Nykin seemed still inclined for the door. “ Every night for months before ! Do you positively swear that the prisoner was in your house every night for even one month before?” “ Why — I don’t know for every night — may be, he was not there two or three nights — but pretty generally.” “ Do you swear that he was in your house every night for one week before the night on which you state Mr. Threap found him in your house?” “ Yes, that he was ! I’m sure of that,” answered Nykin, with ALDERMAN RALPH. 211 an air of confidence ; for he thought it would not do to play the lout, and that the holder he was the sooner this unwelcome scrutiny would end. “ Every night for a week preceding,” repeated Mr. Ralph, while Mr. Pratewell noted down Zykin’s answer; “ at what hour, pray — early or late?” “ Oh ! he usually came in good time.” “ Can you say the exact hour?” “ Not I. You can’t expect me to do that — hut he was always there hy seven, at any rate.” “ And stayed how long?” “ I can’t tell,” answered Nykin, beginning to dread that there was some trap laid for him, and answering petulantly. “ Mr. Mayor, I appeal to you whether it he fair to harass an honest and impartial witness with these frivolous and unim- portant questions,” said Plombline, rising in great apparent heat. There was a laugh among the crowd at the word “ honest;’* but Mr. Pomponius immediately warned the audience that their worships would not allow of any irregular behaviour in the hall. “ I don’t think Mr. Ralph is asking him either a frivolous or unimportant question,” answered the mayor Diggory ; and Plombline sat down, and folded his arms, and looked contemp- tuous. “ J ust say how long the prisoner stayed in your house every night during the week before the night on which Mr. Threap found him there,” said Mr. Ralph, mildly, to the witness, “ and T will ask you no more questions ; you say he was always there by seven” — “ And stayed till about ten — will that do?” answered Nykin. Mr. Ralph sat down, and Noddlepate was hastening to the door, when Mr. Pratewell said to him. “ I think you had better wait. Of course you can go if you like. But the court may wish to question you further,” and Mr. Pratewell immediately called for Threap. The lawyer was waiting at the side-door, eager to enter; and as he met old 212 ALDERMAN RALPH. Nykin, who was hurrying off in spite of the town- clerk’s hint, he pushed the wooden-legged fiddler back, and whispered — “ You mustn’t go yet. I shall want you : stay where you are.” Nykin remained, though somewhat unwillingly; and Threap advanced and bowed to the Bench. The lawyer’s evidence was read over to him, and he confirmed it. And there he stood when he had asseverated that it was true — the greater number of the aldermen fixing their eyes upon him in wonder, but unable to question his oath by words; and he looking exultant, and as if he dared them to speak! The crowd behind were breathlessly silent, and many began to forbode that it would be proved Jack Jigg was a horrible villain. Mr. Pomponius called the Irishman, by the name he gave himself — “ Patrick Mahoney.” He appeared, cringing and bowing, and feigning to weep as before, and fell plump on his knees before the town-clerk’s table. “ Get up,” said Mr. Pratewell, in disgust, “ and listen while I read” — and he read over the Irishman’s evidence, and the false witness also confirmed it. Mr. Pomponius now put the question which Jack had been burning so long to hear : — “ Prisoner, you were asked on a former occasion if you had anything to say, and you said nothing. Have you now any statement to make, or any question to ask the witnesses?” “ I will tell their worships all about it, without prevarication, if they will give me time,” answered J ack ; and he went on, and related the behaviour of the Irishmen in Nykin’s den, the sudden entrance of Threap, and how his wife had put by part of the presents, and described his own surprise and consternation when the bank-notes were found; and then boldly avowed his belief, that this was an evil trick of his old enemy Nykin and of Threap, who bore him malice for preventing the lawyer’s accom- plishment of the ruin of a young woman whom he refused to name. ALDERMAN RALPH. 213 Mr. Ralph and his friends listened with changeful looks to our minstrel’s account : sometimes evidently receiving his statement for truth; and anon seeming dubious. The buzz and whisper of the crowd became busy; and the interest in their faces increased. But the lawyer, who now stood close by old Nykin, almost laughed aloud, and exchanged triumphant looks with Plombline and Backstitch. “ Have you said all you wish to say 1 ?” asked Mr. Pomponius of the prisoner. “ You can either answer my question or not,” said Alderman Ralph; “ but since you gave no reason for your visit on the night in question to the house of the witness Nykin Hoddlepate, I ask if you have any objection to inform the court why you went there — either on that occasion, or on any preceding one?” Jack had foreseen this question; but had resolved not to answer it till it was directly put to him. “ I have never been in Hykin Noddlepate’s house but twice in my life,” answered he, distinctly and emphatically; u once on the night sworn to, and the other time on the night before it; and I went there,” he continued in an altered tone, “ at her own request, to visit a poor young woman whom I have known from a child, and who has been brought into trouble. That young woman is now concealed, I have no doubt, in Nykin’s chamber : it is Betty Brown, late servant to Mr. Alderman Ralph.” Mr. Ralph started, and turned pale. “ It’s a lie!” shouted old Hykin; “ she is neither in my house now, nor was she ever there ! ” The lawyer clutched Nykin’s arm. “ If she be there, she can soon be found,” said Mark Siftall ; u let two of the officers go and search for her, Mr. Mayor.” “ What have we to do with such tales?” said Hugh Plombline, impetuously ; “ and why is the time of the court to be taken up with matters foreign to the charge against the prisoner? That charge has been proved on the most respectable evidence : evidence not to be overthrown by a cock-and-bull story which 214 ALDERMAN RALPH. this fellow has contrived since his examination. He had not a word to say for himself then. I demand that the prisoner he committed for trial at the ensuing quarter sessions!” “ Yes; committed instantly!” added Mr. Nicky; “we have nothing to do with this fellow’s tales about Alderman Trueman’s servant-girl.” “But I can demand that the search be made for her, Mr. Mayor,” said Mr. Balph ; “ she left my service without notice, and I wish to know what this trouble is into which she has fallen.” “ V ery right ! ” said the mayor Diggory ; “ Mr. Barnabas, send two of your assistants to search Noddlepate’s house.” “ They may go, and welcome,” said Nykin. “ What d’ye mean? You don’t mean that she’s gone?” whis- pered the consternated Threap. “ I’ll tell you afterwards,” answered Nykin; “ let us get through with this job first.” “ Silence ! ” cried Mr. Pomponius, hushing the general hubbub among the crowd ; “ is there any other witness, either to character, or to any other point of the prisoner’s statement?” Gilbert Pevensey appeared at the side-door, stated that he came as evidence for the prisoner, who had been for some time in his service; and, having made oath, declared, that Jack had been either in the kitchen or some other part of Lovesoup House, up to the hour of ten every night of the week preceding the first night on which Jack had stated that he had gone to old Nykin’s house. Two man servants and three female servants of Pevensey’s made the same statement on oath. Old Nykin held down his head ; and Threap execrated himself for leaving so much to the old wretch’s discretion. But now Markpence appeared at the side-door, and demanded to be sworn as evidence for the prisoner ; and the lawyer felt his blood boil, and inwardly vowed that he would prevent Gregory from ever giving evidence again. “ I swear,” said Gregory, “ that I attended to the toll-gate ALDERMAN RALPH. 21-5 myself every hour of Saturday last from dusk to midnight, and till daylight on Sunday morning; and Mr. Threap never came through the gate, nor ever passed over the bridge, and so could not have been robbed in journeying at any hour during that time from Willowacre to Meadowbeck, as he has sworn.” The toll-keeper fell back, the lawyer ground his teeth, the whole Bench were in excited conversation, and the crowd burst into loud exclamation ; but all was still in a moment when the two officers who had been sent to search Nykin’s house re- entered the side door, and Mr. Pomponius again called “ Silence!” The men reported that they had searched every part of the house, but there was no woman to be found in it; and five Irishmen who were there denied ever having seen a woman there. “ And I wish to state what I should have stated before, if it had not been for the noise, v said Threap, “ that I went over the Slowflow that night in a boat; and I’ll produce the man that rowed me over at a future time — that is to say, when the prisoner comes to trial at the sessions.” Again there was confusion and excitement; but, this time, the impression was against poor Jack. He felt it was so; and his heart sank, and he dreaded the result when the town-clerk again called order ; but endeavoured to hope when he saw Alderman Ralph rise again. “ This is a most mysterious case, Mr. Mayor,” began worthy Mr. Ralph ; “ the evidence and the statement of the prisoner are more conflicting than in any case in my experience; and I think you will say the same. We might give it over, at once, into the hands of the sessions’ court, believing that they will be better able to sift it, and come to a correct judgment upon it than ourselves; but I, for one, am not willing to act so idly as to hand over to them a matter which is shrouded in so much mystery.” “ Mystery ! ” exclaimed Hugh Plombline, fiercely and con- temptuously ; “ are we to be mocked with such superannuated nonsense? The case is as clear as noonday against the prisoner; 216 ALDERMAN RALPH. a man, be it remembered, who was sentenced in this hall to six months’ imprisonment for a former offence, and was liberated at Mr. Trueman’s intercession. Why is it that Mr. Trueman leans so often to the side of this convicted rogue and villain, and seeks to protect him?” Hugh Plombline would have said fiercer and bitterer things ; but confusion drowned his voice. Mr. Nicky next gibbered and gesticulated in dumb show ; and it was long before the mayor and town-clerk could succeed in their endeavours to procure silence. Plombline had subverted his own intent, in yielding to anger, and forgetting prudence. Had he resorted to the wiles of which he was a consummate master on occasions, he might have carried his point, and Jack Jigg would have been, then and there, committed for trial at the ensuing sessions. But Mr. Balph was nerved to stern resistance by Hugh’s unmannerly behaviour, and the majority of the Bench were indignant at it. The mayor especially denounced Plombline’s proposition — which was soon enunciated in form — for fully committing the prisoner; and after renewed wrangling and confusion, J ack’s re-examination was adjourned for two days, the court broke up in fervid excite- ment, and the prisoner was led back to the borough jail — the crowd following him with encouraging cries to the very threshold. Mr. Balph returned to his own house in a most unwonted state of mind; and after telling his niece somewhat hastily what had passed in the Guildhall, questioned her concerning the dis- appearance of Betty Brown, which had occurred during the period of his helpless and unconscious illness. May related to her uncle all that she knew, and that was derived from the statement of Patty Drudge. Patty was summoned into the alderman’s presence forthwith; and, with tears and entreaties for forgiveness, and declarations that she had concealed the truth through fear of exposing Betty’s shame, revealed the sad truth of Betty’s guilty connection with Dingyleaf, and her flight for concealment to old Nykin’s, adding the relation of Jack’s attempt ALDERMAN RALPH. 217 to save the erring woman from the peril of entering that den of infamy. May heard the relation with grief and horror ; and Mr. Ralph was so overcome, that he could not chide Patty for her error in concealing it. He was just collecting his thoughts, and purposing to revisit the town-clerk, when little Davy Drudge came to the kitchen-door, and Margery entered the parlour, curtsying to the Alderman and saying, that the hoy had an urgent message to deliver, and would tell it to none hut Mr. Ralph himself. “ Let the hoy come in!” said the worthy alderman. But Davy must enter the parlour in the next chapter. 218 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER VI. Davy’s conversation, and the Toll-keeper’s odd conference with Mr. Ralph : the Eleventh Book of this History concludes by giving the goodly Alderman the great desire of his heart. Credit me, ’fair lady, I hold your excellent sex to he deeply ill-used. Men snub you, and chide you, and frown upon you, when you attempt a brave act, or essay a wise policy; and all from a jealousy that you might outshine us. Thus our men Alexanders, Caesars, Cromwells, and Napoleons, have been en- couraged, while the growth of the women Alexanders, Caesars, Cromwells, and Napoleons, has been checked. Only let us place your sex in circumstances calculated to draw forth its latent heroism and wisdom, and you would show us that you are as natural heroes and politicians as any of ours. The circumstances only are wanted to ensure your triumph. Betty Brown — brave, astute Betty! — might, with all her na- tive strength and quickness, have remained unknown to herself, unknown to fame, had not circumstances promoted the grand interior and exterior revelation. Standeth she not in the same category — liefch she not in she same predicaments — I speak scholastically — with the men heroes and statesmen 1 ? With Oliver, the great farmer of the Isle of Ely, for instance'? They tell us that he had not drawn a sword till he was nearly forty years’ old; and, no doubt, he might have ploughed his fenny acres to the end of life, as he had ploughed them for so many years, all unconscious of the masterly generalship and statesmanship there was in himself latent, had not the stirring and revolutionary times made it patent to himself and Old England what he was. ALDERMAN RALPH. 219 Now, I assert that if Oliver subverted the throne, set aside the dynasty ; if but no matter ! The honest, unsophisticated reader, who possesses one spark of real chivalry and genuine gallantry, will say I am right beyond contradiction when he has perused a few more pages. And then, when be beholds the grand achievement of Betty, let him — when he learns that it completes the revolution in Willowacre — join me in proclaim- ing her to be a true hero, a veritable stateswoman ! Above all, let him, for her sake, speak generously and nobly of the sex ! But we must not permit so lofty a subject to carry us away: there are other actors to attend to before we reach our climax with the sublime Betty Brown. "Well, my good boy, what do you want? what can I do for you?” asked Mr. Balph of little Davy, as the lad entered the parlour, carrying his hat before him with both his hands. " If you please, Mr. Alderman,” answered Davy, " Martha — that’s poor Jack’s wife — wants to see you.” "Jack Jigg’s wife, you mean. Could not she have come her- self, Davy? Is the poor woman ill?” "Not ill, sir; but very sorrowful like,” and Davy’s eyes began to fill with tears, and his voice faltered, "now poor Jack’s gone to prison again, although he’s innocent.” "You think Jack is innocent then, Davy?” " Innocent, Mr. Balph ! ” exclaimed the noble little lad ; " how can he be guilty? Jack has been more than a fayther to me; and he always told me to chop my hands off rayther than steal. Is Jack a likely man to rob on the highway? Why, he would give the bread out of his own mouth to any body that was poor, and wanted it.” The goodly alderman controlled his emotion, and gazed ad- miringly at little Davy Drudge. "You have known Jack a long time, then,” he said, desirous of drawing the boy out, "and have been a good deal in his company?” " He’s taught me more than any body else,” answered Davy, 220 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ and he never taught me aught but what was good. And he’s done good to every body, and often brought himself into trouble by it. He would not have been where he is, if it had not been for that?” “How so, Davy? what do you mean by that?” “Will you come and talk to poor Martha, if you please? She wants to tell you all about it.” The alderman paused, and admired the prudence of the little lad. “Well, I’ll come,” he said; “you may go and tell Jack’s wife that I’ll call upon her immediately.” “ Thank ye, sir ! ” said Davy, making his best bow with the hand as he withdrew. “ Please, sir, my father wishes to speak to you!” said Margery Markpence, just as Mr. Ralph had risen to go. “Your father!” said the alderman surprised; “well, let him come in,” and Mr. Ralph sat down again in the arm-chair that he filled so well. And Gregory Markpence came in, staff in hand, and habited just as he was when he first entered the Wheat Sheaf parlour in that portentous way; but he was constrained to take off his large slouched hat, when he saw the goodly alderman filling the arm-chair in that stately old parlour, in such an impressive, dignified style. Gregory looked abashed, and lowered his shaggy brows, seem- ing unable to say why he came there, even after Mr. Ralph had said — “ Good-morning, Mr. Markpence. What is your business with me, . pray? ” “Will you take a chair, Mr. Markpence?” asked Mr. Ralph, since Gregory did not speak ; “ is it any thing concerning your daughter that you wish to see me upon. She is a very good girl, so far as I can observe; and my niece assures me that she is very deserving.” This commendation of his child touched Gregory, and banished ALDERMAN RALPH. 221 the sour remembrance that, though Mr. Ralph had offered him a chair now, there was a time when the alderman was not disposed to grant him one. “ Obliged to you, Mr. Alderman Trueman, for what you say about my lass,” blundered the toll-keeper, seating himself awk- wardly in a chair; “ but I wished to see you about another business.” “ Pray, what is it? Will you be pleased to say?” “ I’m a queer creatur, Mr. Trueman,” growled Gregory, “ and you may think it odd that I interfere in the business I mean.” a We are none of us without our peculiarities, Mr. Markpence. I have mine, I’m very conscious — but will you please to say what your business is?” urged Mr. Ralph, curious to learn the cause of Gregory’s odd visit. “ Jack Jigg is not guilty of robbing Lawyer Threap,” declared Gregory, striking the end of his knobbed staff on the carpet; “ Jack has done me many kind turns — which I can’t say of every body,” and Gregory grinned, in spite of his wish to be re- spectful, “ and therefore I’m bound to see him righted. I may get myself into trouble by meddling in this affair; but I can’t rest without doing it.” “ I don’t see that you can get yourself into any trouble by giving your evidence this morning,” said the alderman, slowly ; “ there is the law to protect you, as well as others. Do you mean that you apprehend injury from Mr. Threap ? I should think he will not dare” — “ Dare ! He’s the very devil to dare — begging your pardon, Mr. Alderman,” broke out the toll-keeper. “But it is not merely for what I have said that I fear his bringing me into trouble. He did not contradict my words ; and if he can prove that he went over the Slowflow in a boat — although that’s cheating the tolls, and is fineable, unless he shows that he had business which compelled him to take a boat — if he can prove it, I say, there is no harm done him by my telling the truth in 222 ALDERMAN RALPH. defence of J ack this morning. I fear him for what I might say about him now.” “ And what is that?” asked Mr. Ralph. “ I do not want to be seen in it ; and I needn’t be. Will you promise me that my name shall not be mentioned if I tell you something ? ” “ Really, I don’t know, Mr. Markpence. I wish you would explain yourself.” “ You won’t promise, then?” and Gregory looked as if he were determined to go off without unfolding his real errand in coming. Mr. Ralph shook his head, and looked hard at Gregory; but did not speak. “ Confound it !” exclaimed the toll-keeper, dropping his slouch- ed hat on the floor; “I\uust tell — for I shall be miserable for life if Jack be sent over sea, knowing that he’s innocent. But mind ! I’ll not come up any more as a witness. I’ll go a score miles out of the way sooner. I’ll give you the clew to finding a couple of rascals whom Threap is paying to keep out of the way. You catch ’em; and you’ll soon learn the truth about poor Jack. I tell you he’s as innocent as the child unborn,” concluded Markpence vehemently. “ But, Mr. Markpence, you must speak a little plainer. Who are these rascals that Threap is paying? And how can it serve Jack Jigg to bring up any tools of Threap to swear against him?” “ They’ll not swear against him.” “ How do you know that? Who are they? and where are they to be found?” “ In a small down-coming hole — a cottage you may call it, if you like — at the farther end of Oatacre. Send the constable and two or three of his men over there when it is dark to-night. Let ’em go slily, and listen, till they hear two Irishmen talk, Mick and Dennis, they are called. Let ’em seize ’em and bring ’em to Willowacre, with a little threatening; and, I’ll warrant it, they’ll tell the truth about the rascally lawyer and poor J ack. I’ve dodged the lawyer and these fellows. He gave ’em money ALDERMAN RALPH. 223 last night to go away. I watched him ; but he did not see me. And I watched them back again; and though they are gone away again, no doubt, to-day, they’ll be back again to-night. There, that’s enough!” concluded the toll-keeper, taking up his hat, and rising; “ if the constable is not an absolute fool he may trap these foul fomarts, and you magistrates may make good use of ’em, if you’ve any brains.” “ Stop, stop, Mr. Markpence ! ” cried Mr. Ralph, as Gregory strode to the room door. “ Not T ! ” answered Gregory ; “ I’ll not be seen in it. If I do, Threap will murder me one of these days. I won’t ! ” — and he shot out of the house without any more ceremony. “ You won’t!” said Alderman Ralph to himself, when he had sat a minute or two in vexation ; “ but we must try if we can’t make you. Two Irishmen ! Threap said there were two more in Hykin’s house when he found Jigg there. This must be seen to, at once,” and, thinking the matter of paramount importance, Mr. Ralph determined to go and tell the mayor or town-clerk, or both, about it, before he called at J ack’s cottage. As luck would have it, Mr. Ralph found the mayor Diggory at the town-clerk’s, and immediately communicated to the two what Markpence had said. The worshipful Diggory caught at Mr. Ralph’s first thought, that Markpence should be examined, and given to understand that he must speak more plainly; but Mr. Pomponius demurred, and, after thinking a little, proposed what he held to be a better plan. “ I should say, let the toll- keeper alone,” said Mr. Pomponius ; “ your worships know that he is a very ungovernable sort of man.” “ Indeed, that’s true,” granted Mr. Ralph, still feeling some offence at Gregory’s rude way of going off. “ It is very true,” said the mayor, calling to mind the old scene at the Wheat Sheaf. “ W e shall really lose time by trying to make any thing more of him,” continued the intelligent Mr. Pomponius; “and he 22 4 ALDERMAN RALPH. himself suggests a step which, I think, is excellent. There only remains to be added to it, that if the constable and his assistants find these Irishmen, they shall take them up under the charge of assisting to rob Threap on the highway.” Mr. Pratewell stopped, and smiled with a consciousness of having proposed a clever thing. But the mayor bluntly declared he thought that would be strengthening Threap’s case ; and Mr. Balph, at first, hesitated to approve the town-clerk’s proposal. Mr. Pomponius “showed cause,” however, for instructing the constable to proceed in the way he had indicated. The two borough dignitaries declared themselves fully convinced, and the town-clerk was empowered to give Mr. Barnabas his commission, and that forthwith. So now Mr. Balph went forward on his visit to the cottage of Jack Jigg. Mr. Balph had no presentiments. He never had any in his life. He approached that cottage-door sadly, expecting a scene of sorrow, resolving to assure Martha of his kindly help, and hoping that she had something to communicate about her im- prisoned husband which might strengthen the presumption of his innocence. And he looked with kindly sympathy at Martha when she opened the door and curtsied. “How d’ye do, poor woman?” he asked, as he entered. “Thank ye, sir!” answered Martha, as she closed the door; and then she hurried up stairs in a moment. Mr. Balph gazed after her; but a hand was laid on his arm, and he looked — and there stood Betty Brown, offering him a large discoloured parchment, with an expression that offended him : it was so unbecomingly proud in a woman of whom he had so lately heard that relation, and which had so deeply hurt himself and May. “ Young woman ! you here? and not ashamed of your grievous error?” he said, stepping back, and looking full of rebuke. “ Take it, Mr. Balph, and forgive me all ; and see me righted ! It is — the — the — Bridge Deed!” she gasped, and sank at his feet. ALDERMAN RALPH. 225 Would not your Eugene Sue, or your Dumas, or your Victor Hugo, make a sentimental scene of it just now, if they had my cards to play? — Smelling bottles, ladies! Lavendered hand- kerchiefs ! To the sober chronicle! Your author is English to the back- bone. He is none of your sentimental fantasts. Here is the plain truth : the poor girl had, like a true heroine, gone to the very limit of her strength, and then she sank, because she could not help it. If that be not true heroism, I know not what is. I wish it could be proved that all your pretended heroes had done as much. But, to go on — and yet how to go on? That is the difficulty ! Mr. Balph? How, in the name of Demogorgon, shall I describe him at this grand crisis of his existence? I don’t know. I give it up. My reader must imagine him. Don’t say, you have so very little imagination, reader; and you would thank me just to have the kindness to describe him. Nonsense! I tell you I can’t. Try to imagine. Yes, try ! — the magic three letters, you know, by which all the great things in the world have been accomplished. It is sure to do you good, and to improve your power of imagination. Somehow or other, Martha was summoned down-stairs ; and Betty was brought round again ; and then Martha was sent up- stairs again; and Betty began to talk to Mr. Balph, as he sat with the magic seal of King Solomon — pshaw! I mean the dirty-looking old parchment in his trembling hands — for he trembled all over, and sometimes doubted if he were not in a dream — and how can you describe a man in that most inde- scribable condition? I say, Betty began to talk to Mr. Balph, and he to listen as well as he was able — but since his mind was often in the Guildhall during that hour, while his goodly cor- porality was in Jack Jigg’s humble cottage, it cannot be supposed that he perfectly understood all that Betty said. Betty endeavoured to make a clean breast of it. She would not have revealed more to any father confessor; for she had a Q VOL. II. 226 ALDERMAN RALPH. deeper veneration for her old master than she ever could have had for any father confessor in the world. She protested, and truly, how stainless she was before she had known Dingy leaf ; how, at first, she had laughed at his eccentricities; and how she had humoured him by putting his queer love-letters to Miss May in queer hiding-places. The alderman stared aghast, for his mind came back from the Guildhall in a moment at the sound of those words, and the abhorrent idea they conveyed to him! Betty went on to tell how she was so often with Dingy leaf that she began to like him ; and how she began to perceive that he was fond of her ; and how he ceased to write love-letters to Miss May, and began to speak tenderly to herself; and how glad she was that the doctor ceased to pester Miss May with notes, since Miss May’s heart was Mr. Pevensey’s — “ What?” cried the alderman, springing up with such a look as neither Betty nor any other person had ever seen him wear in his life. “ I thought you had known, sir. Indeed I did, or I should not have mentioned it,” replied Betty ; “ I’m very sorry, sir. Indeed I am!” Mr. Balph sank down again; and Betty went on — but now he heard her more imperfectly than ever. She told how the scholar promised her marriage, tempted her, and she fell; but how she assured herself that she could make him fulfil his promise by the power she held over him, inasmuch as he had communicated to her the most important secrets. And now Mr. Balph’s ears were fully opened again. She revealed how Threap had tempted Dingy leaf, and inflamed his desire for money; how she had striven to counterwork Threap’s influence, but yet kept the secret to preserve her power over the scholar, who evermore promised her marriage, and never abated in his apparent fondness for her, but delayed to perform his promise. How Dingyleaf had told her of his discovery of the Deed ; and of his relation of the secret to Threap, and of Threap’s promise to obtain him a large sum from ALDERMAN RALPH. 227 Sir Nigel Nickem for the destruction of the Deed, and a declara- tion to the mayor, aldermen, and councillors, that it was not in existence. Mr. Ralph grasped the parchment in his hand, and shuddered ; and still wondered if this were not a dream ! Betty went on to relate how she had persuaded Dingyleaf to entrust the parchment to her keeping, and had excited his fears till he half-promised to give up his union with Threap; what difficulty she had in withholding the document from him a few nights ago — the last night that she saw him; — and how he had returned to her with the money Threap and Sir Nigel had given him, and told her that he must and would have the Deed on a certain night, which was the last ; how J ack had failed to come to her after the second visit, and she was bewildered at his failure, and was filled with dread at the sullenness of old Nykin, and feared she should be murdered ; and how she feared it the more from the cessation of Dingyleaf’s visits, and how she had escaped, and taken refuge in Jack’s cottage. “ And now,” cried the girl, falling at Mr. Ralph’s feet, and clasping his knees, “ say that you forgive me, and forgive my husband — for my husband he is, by his solemn promise.” “ Forgive him ! ” cried Mr. Ralph. “ Forgive him!” entreated the girl; “he has found the Deed. You would not have had it if he had not searched for it. He never harboured the foul thought of withholding it from you, until these wicked men tempted him. Punish him, by refusing to reward him. He is rich enough. He does not need money. But forgive him ! — and oh, Mr. Ralph ! my dear good old master, compel him to make me an honest woman in the eyes of the world ! ” There clung the agonised girl at his knees, and there sat Ralph Trueman ! Oh, good vicar ! he remembered you and your lessons, and the lessons of the Holy One you so often recited in his ears on that sickbed! Yet he struggled between his impressions of the world’s notion of justice, and his heart’s sense of mercy! 228 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ Will you — will you, Mr. Ralph'? Say it, or I shall go mad !” cried the girl. “ I will,” said Ralph Trueman, and raised her up ; “ he shall marry you, Betty, or it shall be worse for him.” Betty’s wretchedness was exchanged for wild joy. Yet she curbed it soon, remembering that her degradation was not yet exchanged for deliverance and full security. Mr. Ralph hastened to cut short the interview with Betty ; hut she desired to assure him that she believed the charge against Jack was false, and that indeed she knew him to be incapable of a dishonest action, while Threap and Nykin could scarcely per- form a good one. Mr. Ralph assured her he had the same per- suasion, called Martha down-stairs, and comforted the poor woman by a similar assurance, promised to aid in setting Jack free as soon as possible, and gave Martha money. Conjuring Betty to remain where she was, and in secresy, and again pledg- ing himself to bring about what she had asked, Mr. Ralph departed. He thrust the parchment within the cover of his ample waist- coat, and bent his steps homeward, desiring to calm his thoughts before he told the good news. Sweet May beheld him enter the parlour with alarm — his face was so changed ! He took his cus- tomary seat in the arm-chair, strove to restrain his feelings and to regulate his thoughts, and took a cup of wine at sweet May’s hand. J ust then, the remembrance of what Betty had said about Gilbert Pevensey flashed across his mind. But he could not say any thing about it to May. “ Leave me, darling, now,” he only said ; “ I want to think a while,” — and sweet May kissed her uncle, and then quitted the parlour, conjecturing that he was desirous of considering the case of poor Jack Jigg, and the possibility of delivering him. And there sat noble-hearted Ralph Trueman, reflecting on the baseness of Sir Nigel Nickem, and mastering his hostility to the man, while he breathed exultant thankfulness that the end ot that family’s reign of injustice, as he had always been taught to ALDERMAN RALPH. 229 hold it, was now at hand. His reflections on the baseness of Threap would have been mingled with more pity, had not horror and indignation for the lawyer’s persecution of Jack Jigg checked his humane leanings. Of Dingyleaf he thought with wonder, recalling the scholar’s evident unworldliness, and leaned increas- ingly to the lenient side the more he thought of him. “ There is that consideration, too,” the alderman reminded himself; “ he could not play out the rascal when he had begun it. Ho doubt he had been telling Plombline and Backstitch that the Deed was not to be found ; but he ran away — he could not repeat the tale. And very likely he has really fallen sick with fright. Well: a decided step must be taken now; and I must take it discreetly. All my old friends will think I use them shabbily by not telling them the good news at once. And yet, under the circumstances, it would be unwise to do so. “ Ho : I shall simply call upon the mayor in the first instance. I can depend upon him. And then we will communicate with the town clerk. And none other shall know of it, till Dingyleaf is present to confirm the fact.” Thus decided Mr. Ralph; and glowing with the consciousness that he had reached the great object of his own life, and achieved the desire of his family before him, yet restraining all undue exultation, the worthy magnate once more took his way along the streets of the time-honoured borough, which he knew would soon ring with the joyous shout that it was free from the robbery and injustice of the Hickems ! / BOOK III. Wlittlj kings ifria Sistnig in an init; anir rietnta ^mitral Snsiiit an ilji Mars iljraaf. & ALDERMAN RALPH* 233 BOOK III. CHAPTER I. Which is imhistorical ; but which gives a shrewd Hint towards the improvement of all Future Histories. You, fair youth, who have come into this changeful world in the whisk-and-begone times of railways, can scarcely sympathise with me ; but that reader who, like myself, is an old coach-traveller, and remembers with what cheery feeling we used, in journeying from York to London, to witness the last change of horses at the last stage, will be able to enter into the depth of my distresses at this remarkable moment. He wotteth well how exhilarating it was, after so many hours of dust and sun, or snow, or rain and wind; after the fitful broken sleep of the night, and the chill of the succeeding morning ; when we saw the best team put in, and heard coachee and guard exchange the last solemn “ All right 1 ?” “ All right ! ” — and we made the last start for the grand goal. Credit me, dear reader, I never felt more like it than I do just now ! Hay, methinks, I can call to memory one particular journey when my feelings — but one hates to talk about one’s feelings — and really, what does it matter what one has felt? The most sensible concern that a man can have is about what he has done. That’s it. I know it is. And my concern about what I have done, in thus far narrating this great history of Willowacre, makes me wish I had been more modest, and said nothing about the last stage in the happy old coach-travelling times. 234 : ALDERMAN RALPH. I see how it will be. I shall receive kicks and cuffs, instead of thanks, for introducing this “ Old Slow-coach of an alderman ” to the world. Nay, I should not be surprised if your readers-on- the-rail call me a Slow-coach myself ! If I hear that they do, may I perish if I don’t start another coach that they shall acknow- ledge goes fast enough ! There now ! that was foolishly spoken : the fact is, that I am and have been all along most unwisely anxious about what people will say and think about this history ; and, above all, about its worthy hero. I wish I had defied criticism from the very first. I wish I had put forth Mr. Ralph when I pleased, where I pleased, and as I pleased. I wish I had made him appear in every chapter: nay, I wish still more strongly that I had not let him appear in person, but only in spirit, in any chapter. Now that was really my favourite concep- tion : “ Alderman Ralph without Alderman Ralph.” Just as people speak of the “ Play of Hamlet with the part of Hamlet omitted.” I know that dull people imagine there is a joke in that current saying ; and that it shadows forth a transcendant absurdity. The true philosopher knows that ail people are absurd who have such an imagination. The play written in that form would have been absolute perfection. There is no doubt of it. And, profound reader ! you who are skilled in the all-comprehensive science and art and mystery of HEsthetics, know that. And you know that Shakspere would have written the play in that form, only he knew that mankind were, as yet, unprepared for such a play. Amd you know — if any body doubts this, you ought to knock them down, as the editors of the knock poor authors down, with the word “ ^Esthetics ! 99 Yes : I wish I had striven to embody my beau-ideal, and given Mr. Ralph neither body nor waistcoat. An heroic history without a personal hero : that would have been the thing. For how vulgar it is to have a personal hero ! All your histories have him. In fact, he is worn out. No doubt we shall all get ALDERMAN RALPH. 235 into the track of common-sense ere long : and write onr histories without him. Consider, my precious reader, what endless wrath of controversy and what waste of brains and learning the new and original mode of writing which I have just suggested, will prevent. You know, the Germans — those prime intellectuals ! — have already proved that all the very old heroes are myths — that is, in plain English, they are not persons ; they also show that all later heroes will, in the lapse of ages, become myths — that is, they will cease to be persons. Why, then, perpetuate these quarrels about heroes when we can end them by extinguishing the personality of all heroes'? Talk of “Peace Conferences !” The dissemination of my idea will accomplish more than a thousand of them. Let all heroes, I say, be myths ! and let us, never more, allow them to be persons. Let all histories be written without heroes; all biographies without the person whose life is the subject of narration ; and — let everybody be nobody, I speak iEsthetically. 236 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER II. Gilbert Pevensey seeks an explanation with his Sister; and receives one that throws him out of all his Calculations. To rescue ourselves from utter ruin, by summoning courage to face the shame which, we know, must follow when we confess that we were wrong; is it not one of the hardest tasks for an erring man or woman? To close our eyes upon the false lights we have gazed upon till they have bedazzled us; and, with our decreased mental power, to assure ourselves that they are false; how few are equal to the task ! To descend at once from, the ladder of ambition, and declare to all the world — that world which we expect to deride us for having aspired to climb — we have no pretensions to distinction; has one in a thousand the courage to do that? Our closest friends are the first to attempt to dissuade us, when we talk of descending. They are all alarm for our reputation : they are all assurance for our crowning success, if we will but persevere. “ What will every body say ? ” they exclaim; “how can you draw back with honour? how can you be so foolish as to give up your point now you are so near it, and so certain of reaching it?” And still they reason, although we assure them that, having been so far up the ladder, we have discovered that the prize at the top is not gold but tinsel ; or that there is no prize there at all. “What of that?” says one; “ seem to have the prize when you get to the top, and the world will be no wiser: only consider how you will be laughed at if you come down now ! ” “ The prize is there, sure enough,” says another ; “ it is but your faint- heartedness which prevents you from seizing it.” Are not thousands pushed on to irretrievable ruin by being threatened ALDERMAN RALPH. 237 with the world’s scorn if they give up a course which they have begun, even when their better judgment assures them it must lead to ruin ] Gilbert Pevensey, after giving his evidence in favour of our ill-used minstrel, and displaying so much solicitude for his fate, returned home and sought his sister. He found her sitting thoughtfully in her own room. “ Alice,” he began, “ I cannot understand the meaning of your behaviour, during our ride home yesterday, nor why you refuse a decisive consent to name the wedding-day, or to let it be fixed. Sir Nigel is hurt. I can see that he is. And I cannot refrain from telling you that I am hurt myself. Perhaps I have no right to urge you; but it really looks like foolish delicacy to delay in giving your consent, after so many weeks of waiting for it. What do you say'? Shall it be next Monday]” “No!” replied Alice, but without looking at her brother. “ Then will you fix any other day]” asked Gilbert. “No!” repeated his sister. “ And you give no reason,” said Gilbert, in an offended tone ; “ I am sure you cannot say that I ever spoke an unbrotherly word to you, Alice; but I must now say that I did not expect this strange behaviour from you. You are absolutely sporting with the feelings of the man who loves you.” “ Hoes he love me, Gilbert ] ” asked Alice, raising her eyes, and fixing them on her brother. “Hoes he] Can you doubt it, Alice]” said Gilbert, almost alarmed at her agonised look. “ I doubt that he loves any one in the world, or ever can love any one but himself.” “Alice — sister!” and Gilbert seated himself; “what do you mean] what has caused this strange change in you]” “ I am not changed, brother. In allowing Sir Nigel Nickem to propose, I did not believe in his love.” “ Not believe in it ! And you have encouraged him to regard you as believing it]” 238 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ He does not think that I believe him.” “ Are yon mad, Alice ? ” exclaimed her brother, unable to control his anger ; “ are you not ashamed to speak thus of the man whom you have permitted to regard you as his future wife ? A man who doats on you, and gives you every proof of it? Do you mean to deny that he is a man of honour ? I shall hear you say that you reject him, no doubt ; and you will break our friend- ship, and expose yourself and me to the scorn and laughter of the world!” “ Do you desire me to plunge myself into lifelong misery to save you from the world’s scorn and laughter, Gilbert?” Alice shed no tears, did not raise her tone, or speak with any appearance of strong emotion ; but her looks of fixed wretched- ness rendered Gilbert almost speechless. “ What — what — can you mean ? ” he asked, with difficulty. “ Gilbert,” she replied, “ I am not offended with you. I have drawn all this upon myself. It would even be just punishment if I were to marry this man, and be miserable for life. But do you desire me to do so, with the consciousness that I shall be- come miserable?” “How can you be miserable?” he reasoned, recovering from his amazement ; “ with rank, intelligence, and affection — and I’m sure he entertains it for you, Alice — how can you be miserable with him? If you are not satisfied with your own experience of him, cannot you trust mine? I have known him long.” « Gilbert ! I knew Sir Nigel Nickem before you had ever seen him ! ” Gilbert did not speak; but gazed at his sister, and began really to question whether she were sane. But Alice immediately revealed her own secret: the romantic courtship at Naples, and the faithlessness of her lover. He questioned her; but when she had assured him that she had forbidden Sir Nigel to speak of it, and had confessed that the baronet owned to having sought Gilbert’s friendship chiefly for her sake, he became more passionately urgent in Sir Nigel’s favour. ALDERMAF RALPH. 239 “ Affection ! ” lie exclaimed ; “ why, liis is most evidently a deep-seated passion. He might be drawn aside, for he was yonng ; but his heart has returned to you, its first and true preference. What you have told me, surprises me ; but it only confirms my belief in the sincerity of his attachment to you. Come, sister, do banish this misery you are inflicting upon yourself, as well as upon me and Sir Nigel. That you have a strong attachment to him, I cannot doubt now, from your own confession. I am, in- deed, happy to find it is of older date than I had imagined. Do not wrong the man you love, nor wound him by discrediting the truth of his love.” “ That does not wound him, Gilbert. He does not care for my disbelief in his love : he would not care if I told him of it to day, if I would consent to marry him to-morrow.” “ Did one ever hear such wild talk?” said Gilbert; “what honourable man would desire to become the husband of a woman who believed him to be a mass of falsehood? Why do you sup- pose Sir Nigel acts thus falsely? For Heaven’s sake, speak rationally, sister!” “ Gilbert, if I believed in the sincerity of Sir Nigel Nickem, I would become his devoted wife. Whatever may be my inward interpretation of his motives, they would not impel me for one moment to refuse him. Forbear, then, to ask me further ! ” “ But what motives can you possibly attribute to him ? ” per- severed Gilbert, unable to obey his sister’s entreaty for forbear- ance ; “ Nigel’s friendship for me is strong : I cannot doubt that ; but he would not seek a union with you, sister, on my account. What other motive can he have than that of sincere affection for you?” Alice shook her head; but did not answer. Gilbert lingered. He saw that his sister did not wish to be pressed further. He even felt that there was something like cruelty in attempting to stay and question her perseveringly. But he could not give it up. Himself, Sir Nigel, all the world of Willowacre, had considered the marriage as a settled affair. 240 ALDERMAN RALPH. Sir Nigel was his “ honoured and valued friend.” He could not permit Sir Nigel to be trifled with : he would not be able to show his face to the baronet, if he permitted it. Gilbert began to feel really angry with his sister : a feeling he had never ex- perienced towards her before. He strove against it, as he remem- bered that ; and called to mind that she was a woman of shrewd thought — had always shown a keener knowledge of human nature than himself — and had often been his teacher, without appearing to teach him. She must have some strong reason for the disbe- lief she had expressed in the baronet’s sincerity. Her conclu- sions must be misfounded: indeed, he felt sure they were; but, true or false, there must be a ground for them. Gilbert, although an energetic and prosperous merchant, was, as we have already seen, as completely untainted with the trader’s proverbial regard for money, as a man who has never devoted himself to getting it. Yet, the thought crossed him that he had lent a few thousands to his friend; that his friend had not repaid him; that the baronet did not report or even hint at any receipt of money from the tenantry in Cornwall. Could Alice’s suspicions lie in that direction? He felt a slight disgust with the thought; but he was determined not to trifle; and so asked the question of Alice, just in the way it came uppermost. “ Can it be any mean money motive that you attribute to Sir Nigel?” he suddenly asked. “Do you believe Sir Nigel incapable of such a motive? Has he made any communication to you respecting his pecuniary af- fairs?” returned Alice, fixing her eyes fully now upon Gilbert. “ "Why, yes ! ” replied the brother, blushing and speaking some- what confusedly ; “ communication of some kind he has certainly made to me ; but not such as to give me a full knowledge of the state of his affairs. The fact is, though I did not think it worth while to tell you of it, sister — he has borrowed a few hundreds of me, from time to time — a few thousands, I might say.” “ A few thousands, Gilbert ! ” and Alice showed no excitement, but she continued to keep her gaze on Gilbert’s countenance; ALDERMAN RALPH. 241 “ on what occasions, and alleging wliat reasons for borrowing — may I ask?” “ Oh ! the election expenses ; and Sir Nigel wished to discharge the lawyer — this Threap, who has sworn this strange robbery against onr poor gardener ; and I really was glad that he dis- charged that man.” “ On any other occasions ? ” asked Alice. “ Why, yes — there were the subscriptions to the improvements,” replied Pevensey, reluctantly. “ Then Sir Nigel has actually spent no money of his own upon Willowacre — and what reasons has he given you for this?” His sister had extracted Gilbert’s confessions so quickly, and clenched them with that observation so strongly, that Gilbert fell into serious thought. “ True,” he said, musingly, “ he has, as yet, spent no money of his own upon the town — that’s very true — neither for the im- provements, nor for his seat in Parliament ; but, you know, Alice,” he said, resuming his confidence in the baronet, and look- ing again at his sister, “ people whose property lies wholly in land, often find it difficult to get in their rents.” “ Did he allege that as his reason for borrowing? I asked you before, but you did not answer me.” “ He did. I thought I told you.” “ But, surely, Sir Nigel must have received a large portion of his rents within the period that has elapsed from his first elec- tion here.” “ Just so,” remarked Gilbert, again becoming thoughtful. Alice could not suggest what she thought must necessarily arise in the mind of her brother ; and let him sit silently. “Well, sister,” he said, at length, “it is what I do not like to do ; but I have a right to do it, nevertheless. I wished your union to be without a colour of mercenary motives. I did not wish even to mention money to Sir Nigel. I wished to show him that I had all the confidence of a brother in him ; and could repose entirely on his truth. The proposal of a marriage settle- VOL. II. R 2 42 ALDERMAN RALPH. ment, therefore, I rejected as a vulgar, worldly, and mistrustful way of arranging a union. I wished your marriage to be what I believed it would be — a marriage of love; and thought I could depend on Sir Nigel himself for making all right, as we commonly say. You did not hint at what is called a settlement before. I suppose this is what you propose I should do now; and of course I will do it, as a matter of business. Sir Nigel will then have to make a statement of his income, and so forth, and I hope you, as well as I, will find it sufficient to dispel all doubt and suspicion. I will see him at once about it.” “Stay, brother,” said Alice, who had heard him to an end patiently ; “ I am not surprised that your sincere friendship for Sir Nigel Nickem should have led your unworldly nature to be silent respecting a settlement. And why I said nothing of it, I want you clearly to understand. If I had believed in the reality of his affection, I would have scorned the thought of a settle- ment : and I would even have married Sir Nigel Nickem had he been virtually a pauper ” — Alice stopped, and showed strong emotion for the first time in this trying interview with her brother ; and Gilbert was deeply moved, but did not speak, lest he should delay the hearing of what she had yet to say. “ Remember that I have spoken to you as a brother,” she went on, “ and that that confession is for your own ears only. You speak now of proposing a marriage settlement to Sir Nigel; but I cannot consent to permit you. I have given no positive consent to our union — although I know I have given an implied one — and there I have done wrong. The punishment for my error I must pay; but it shall not be the lifelong misery I should have to bear from union with a man who does not love me, and is incapable of loving any but himself. Gilbert, I do not intend to become his wife; and so shall neither inquire further into his affairs, nor authorize you to do what you purposed.” This was spoken with such decision, that the brother felt in- ALDERMAN RALPH. 243 capable of reply ; and yet felt so miserable amidst the distracting thoughts of how he should meet the baronet, what he would say to his friend, what the world would say about himself and Alice, together with some latent suspicion that Alice, after all, was right — that he could not muster resolve to leave her, and go out to business. She saw that her brother was in great mental con- flict ; and now took a resolution in accordance with her stronger nature. “ Gilbert,” she said, rising and taking his hand, “ I am solely to blame for all this; and I will take the blame upon myself, and the task of breaking through the difficulty. Go to business. I will inform Sir Nigel, by writing, of my resolution, imme- diately. He will hand you the letter when you return home this evening; and you can then declare that you have been his advocate with me, but an unsuccessful one. What follows, we must get through as well as we can — but you do not desire me to marry with the conviction I have that I should be miserable?” “ I cannot — I do not,” replied Gilbert, tenderly embracing his sister ; and with a sadly distracted mind he hastened to leave her. 2 44 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER III. Threap and Dingyleaf begin to feel their Perils increase, and the Scholar again gives way to his own Weakness. The escape of Betty from the den of Old Nykin, shook the lawyer’s confidence in the success of his villainous schemes so deeply, that he could have murdered the wooden-legged fiddler, in his rage and bitter disappointment. But Threap dared not strike him in the open street; and Nykin looked expressively at his Irish lodgers when the lawyer threatened him in his own house. At first, Threap charged Nykin with being privy to the girl’s escape, and also to her place of refuge; but even Nykin’s false face gave certain evidence that these charges were false. ~Nov could the false fiddler conjecture, any more than Threap, whither she had fled; and the lawyer, charging hTykin to make instant and diligent, but secret, search all over the borough, hastened to return to Meadowbeck. Nykin, it may be said before we go thither with the lawyer, not only desisted from his search before the next day; but, in consequence of particular information given him that night by one of his Irish acquaintances, hastened to depart from Willowacre. Threap quickened his pace when he had passed over the bridge, anxious to get back to Dingyleaf, and full of resolve to use every effort to force the scholar into an open profession that the Deed could not be found. “ If I can get him to do that,” he thought, “ all will be secure. If ! — there must be no if about it. I’ll make him do it — or I’ll shoot him. But I should be a fool to do that : he’s not worth shooting. And, besides, if the baronet — confound it ! I ought to have despatched a note to him, before quitting the town, to say ALDERMAN RALPH. 245 that we must put off the affair at the Red Lion to-night ! I’m making a sore ass of myself. It won’t do to yield in this way. Of what consequence is it to me whether Sir Nigel Nickem has the rascally satisfaction to see the Bridge Deed ’burnt'? I have the title-deeds to the Barleyacre estate. Why, what need I care what becomes of that infernal old parchment 1 ? I’m safe enough. " I must take it more coolly. Yet I’ll settle the impudent meddling of that Markpence. Yes, I’ll do for him yet. So soon as this fiddler is sent over-sea, I must finish the other. And I shall get the fiddler’s business done. They’ll not be able to thwart me. I can easily get an old friend belonging to the c Good Intention’ to swear, that he put me over the river in a boat. The two Irish thieves are fairly gone off, I think ; but I must go over again to-night to Oatacre, and see.” Arrived at home, Threap found Dingyleaf there, waiting for him. The great scholar of the four pronomina had, by much effort, dragged up his resolution to go through with the fearful business of burning the Deed in the baronet’s presence ; and was now anxious to get to Willowacre, that he might, with the assistance of Threap, get the parchment out of the keeping of Betty Brown. “ Come in here, doctor, and sit you down, and let us have a little talk first,” t said Threap, leading the way into his study, when the scholar had muttered his wish, impatiently. Dingyleaf urged that they could talk by the way. “ Sit you down, I say,” reiterated Threap ; “ I must write a note; and then I’ll talk to ye.” Threap wrote a note to the baronet, darted out, sent off a messenger with it, and returned. He then took out the spirit bottle, drank a glass raw, and called for hot water to suit the scholar. “ I shall take none : not a drop ! ” protested Dingyleaf. But it was in vain that Dingyleaf protested: Threap soon induced him to drink in earnest. And now the lawyer argued, 246 ALDERMAN RALPH. coaxed, threatened, used every method he could devise to bring the scholar to a promise to state openly that the Bridge Deed was not to be found. More than an hour passed; and Threap had not sped one hair’s-breadth nearer the point. “ I tell you,” said Dingyleaf, “ I will swear it in the open street? if you like, when I have put the parchment out of existence — but I’ll not do it before.” For the twentieth time, at least, the scholar had made this answer, when his trusty man-servant was announced as having a message for him. John was ordered into the study. “Mr. Pratewell, the town-clerk of Willowacre, sir,” said John, “ has come over on horseback. He appears to have ridden very hard ; and says that the mayor, Mr. Alderman Trueman, and himself, wish to see you immediately, on business of the greatest importance.” “I — I — can’t! Why did you tell him I was here'?” said Dingyleaf, trembling. “I did not say you were here positively, sir,” answered John; “ I only said I thought you might have called here on your way to Willowacre; and Mr. Pratewell desired me to come and see.” “Then tell him I am gone to Willowacre,” said the scholar; and John bowed and departed. Threap would have urged the coward to go ; but was fearful that his cowardice might frustrate the whole villainous scheme. Hitherto, Threap had breathed not a word of the flight of Betty ; but now Dingyleaf became so restless and discontented at Threap’s delay to set out, that the lawyer knew not how to pacify him. “ You refused to go to Willowacre but a short time ago, doctor,” said Threap; “and now again you are in such a hurry.” “You know why I refused, Mr. Threap,” replied Dingyleaf; “ I’ve given you a reason for that. But why are you playing with me in this manner*? You need not try your new scheme any more ; for I’ll not swear that there’s no Deed to be found till I’ve put it out of existence!” “Then you’ll never swear it at all, you confounded ass!” ALDERMAN RALPH. 2 47 exclaimed Threap, with an oath, and unable any longer to con- trol his disappointed passion; “your bird’s flown, and you’re done, old devilskin!” “ Mown ! how — what — what d’ye mean ? ” “What? you staring owl ! Betty’s gone — cut her stick, this morning — lowered herself out of old Ny kin’s window — and no- body knows where she’s gone to ! ” “ Oh, my Betty, my Betty ! my dear, sweet Betty ! Oh, my precious creature! Oh!” — Threap stopped the scholar’s mouth, and threatened him ; but it cost him no little struggle. Dingyleaf raved, wept, wrung his hands, deported himself so much like one insane, that Threap almost concluded he was really so. All sense of his danger by the loss of the parchment seemed to have been hidden from his mind, by his passion for the woman, during the first paroxysm. And when he awoke to it, Threap thought him nearer madness than before ; and was again compelled to struggle with him phy- sically. A convulsive fit, or something like it, followed; and Threap was compelled to call in the help of one of his own sis- ters — for he feared what the scholar might say, in his ravings, in the hearing of a servant. The sister advised bed ; but Threap would not hear of that, except in a temporary shape, on the sofa. Dingyleaf was recovered, at least to consciousness, before mid- night. But as the lawyer and he prolonged their troubled con- fabulation much beyond that time, we must leave them for the present — to return to them again. 248 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER IT. Preparation for the grand Expedition of honest Men against Kogues. It is a busy night, and pregnant with great and decisive events for our history. We must not stay to moralise. Mr* Pomponius has returned to Willowacre, and finds the mayor and senior alderman in his office. “ The doctor is in Willowacre, according to his own servant’s report,” says the town-clerk ; “ but the toll-keeper swears he has not come over the bridge since he fled over it the other morning. What is to be done?” The mayor and Mr. Ralph are at set-fast. They cannot tell what is to be done. Very soon enters Mr. Barnabas, the constable. “ Found the foul birds, your Worships and Mr. Town-clerk,” says Mr. Barnabas; “and now the rogue-pie is opened.” Mr. Barnabas says this with glistening eyes, and such an air of freedom, that he seems to forget in whose presence he appears, notwithstanding that he uses the conventional “ Your Worships” per force of habit. But their worships are insensible to any forgetfulness of pro- priety on the part of their servant. “ Where did you find them? What do they say?” ask the authorities. “ Say it’s all a lie,” answered Mr. Barnabas ; “ swear that Threap has bribed them to lie. Found ’em as directed by Mark- pence, through Mr. Town- clerk. Swear that the pincushion and gingerbread, with the notes, were all a trick.” “ You have taken ’em to jail?” asked Mr. Pomponius. ALDERMAN RALPH. 249 “Good Lord, deliver us!” ejaculated the mayor. “ What a piece of villainy ! ” exclaimed the senior alderman. “ Scandalous, your worships. Boxed ’em safe up — hut they made a woful howling,” said Mr. Barnabas; “they did not know we were going to jail ’em till I got ’em to the door.” “You have done your work well, Barnabas,” said Mr. Balph ; “ we will not forget you.” “ No — we will not; depend upon it,” added the mayor. “ Thank your worships ; but I shall be rich]y rewarded if I help to deliver poor honest Jack!” answered Mr. Barnabas. “It does credit to your heart, Barnabas,” said Mr. Balph ; “but there is a crown for yourself and the men, at any rate.” “ And here is another,” said Diggory Cleavewell. “You have discharged your duty nobly,” added Mr. Pom- ponius ; “ but their worships have now important business on their hands.” Mr. Barnabas made his best official obeisance, and withdrew, happy and proud. “And now, what is to be done?” again asked the mayor; “ I don’t think it is of any use seeking for the doctor in Willowacre.” “ That, I think, is beyond doubt or question,” observed Mr. Pomponius ; “ depend upon it, the toll-keeper has had his eyes about him lately.” “ Let us go to the Wheat Sheaf, open the important discovery to our friends, and take their advice what is to be done,” pro- nounced Mr. Balph. “ That’s it ! ” declared the mayor Diggory. Mr. Pomponius hardly thought so; but he yielded, and the three great municipal functionaries very soon entered Jerry Dimple’s parlour. It was an hour beyond the usual hour of assembling. The worthy host, old Peter, Mr. Gervase, and Mark Siftall, were expressing wonder at the thinness of the company; were delighted to see their friends enter; and were in- stinctively and simultaneously impressed with the conviction, that 250 ALDERMAN RALPH. some important secret sat on the brows of Mr. Ralph and the mayor and town-clerk. Greetings were brief, and the expecta- tion was evident. Mr. Ralph having looked at the mayor, and received his nod, placed his hands solemnly in his waistcoat, rose, and requested his friends to restrain their feelings, while he made a most astounding and important communication, and that under the strictest secresy. Mr. Ralph told the secret. He had been half-consumed to tell it in that dear old parlour. He felt it to be due to the dear old parlour. It ought to be told there, and only there, before it was told in the Guildhall — and then, all Willowacre would ring with it. He plucked forth the Heed from his manly bosom. He displayed it. The company could not read it. Yet they would have shouted — but they dared not. They must not shout till they were out of the wood. Hingyleaf must be found. He must be produced. He must produce the Heed — -just as if Mr. Ralph had not already produced it. His testimony was necessary in the Guildhall. What was to be done h Mr. Pratewell had been over to summon Hingyleaf to Willowacre. Mr. Pratewell could not find Hingyleaf — but Mr. Ralph would not proceed further. He would respectfully request the town-clerk to make his own statement. Mr. Pomponius rose. He related his adventure more circum- stantially. He told how Hingyleaf’s servant went to the lawyer’s, to inquire if his master were there. “ You did not mention that before, Mr. Pratewell 1 ” observed Mr. Ralph. “No, sir,” replied Mr. Pomponius; “but I would have done so, only we were agreeably interrupted, you may remember.” “ The company should know of that,” said the mayor. “ Pray inform them, Mr. Pratewell,” prayed Mr. Ralph. Mr. Pomponius described the mission of Mr. Barnabas, and its results. Jerry Pimple wept with joyous excitement. Peter Weatherwake squeezed Jerry’s knee. Jerry restrained himself. “ I beg to observe again that you did not mention that before,” ALDERMAN RALPH. 251 repeated Mr. Ralph, as Mr. Pomponius regained the regular channel of his narrative ; “ what was the man’s statement when he returned?” “I was about to say, sir,” answered Mr. Pratewell, “ that the man was desired by myself to go to Threap’s, because he had said that his master was to call there on his way to Willowacre. When the man returned, he averred that the doctor had gone to Willowacre. But as I have already informed yourself, sir, and the mayor, the toll-keeper affirms that the doctor has not crossed the bridge.” “ I’ll be bound for it,” declared Mr. Ralph, “ that the doctor is this moment at Threap’s.” In spite of their absorption in that all important business, a strange noise at the parlour door drew off their attention. “ I tell you I must,” urged a gruff voice. “ I tell you, you mustn’t,” insisted the softer and yet shriller voice of Jerry’s helpmate. “ I tell you I will,” reiterated the gruff voice — and old Peter started up. “ I tell you you shall not, and we don’t allow it,” insisted Mrs. Dimple. “ But I tell you he shall ! ” shouted old Peter, and sprung to the door, and opened it. “ The lad’s come!” shouted old Will Scroggs; a come along! we’ll do it at once ! ” “ Hurrah ! ” shouted Peter, while the company looked thunder- struck ; and then, lowering his voice he said, “ Mr. Ralph and all of ye ! That rogue of a doctor is to be found with his brother rogue the lawyer. You go on, and board the ship first. We’ll soon be after ye!” “ Come along !” said old Will Scroggs, pulling Peter out of the room. “ Neighbour Dimple,” cried Peter, as he was being hauled over the threshold, “ tell ’em all about it — I don’t say, now, let it go no further!” 252 ALDERMAN RALPH. J erry caught the last words ; and when the parlour door was closed, and the company were reseated, J erry calmed their amaze- ment in the beginning, but raised it in the end, by narrating the secret himself and Peter had learned from Will Scroggs, how young Jonathan Jipps had been sent for, and was now, he doubted not, arrived by coach and foot journey. “ Peter and Will have gone to the coast-waiter, no doubt,” said Jerry, “ and they and his men will go direct to Meadow- beck.” “ And honest Peter said we were to go first. Let us hire a couple of post-chaises at one or other of the inns, and go directly !” cried Mr. Ralph. Up started the whole company; and though the chimes, more than an hour ago, had rung out “ The old woman a-quaking,” all agreed to the bold proposal of Mr. Ralph ; and in the course of another hour, they, in the two chaises, were at the toll-gate, to the consternation of Gregory Markpence. ALDERMAN RALPH. 253 CHAPTEB Y. Strange position of the Rogues’ Camp : the Advance upon it — the Struggle— the Defence — the Capture — the Escape. Contempt for Dingyleaf s weakness, rage at his stubbornness, and struggles with returning fears of defeat and disaster, agitated the lawyer while the scholar lay insensible. Threap drank as much raw spirit during that night as would have rendered two ordinary men wellnigh lifeless; and when Dingyleaf recovered, he continued to drink, and prevailed upon his weaker companion in some degree to follow his example. So soon as the brandy began to exhilarate the coward’s heart, Threap began to indulge in coarse raillery : the only mode, as it seemed to his coarse mind, likely to aid in fully restoring the scholar’s courage. This low indulgence also served to relieve Threap himself from distraction ; and he pursued it till it might be termed riot rather than mirth. The lawyer’s brain eventually reeled under this excess of drink, riot, and distraction. Suddenly, on discovering that his spirit cupboard was exhausted, the idea of showing Dingyleaf his vault entered his disordered mind. “ Come along, brother thief of sheep-skin ! ” he cried, lighting a small lanthorn ; “ come along, and I’ll show you the magic cave — the cave of wonders ! ” “ Cave ! cave of magic ! — cave of wonders ! — where 1 ?” hiccupped the bewildered scholar.” “ I’ll show you where,” answered the lawyer wildly, while he seized the other by the arm, and pulled him out of doors ; “ come along, and you shall drink brandy, rum, and Hollands, bubbling up from the fountain 1 ” 2.54 ALDERMAN RALPH. And away lie dragged Dingyleaf through, the shrubbery, burst open the gate of his orchard, and pulling the poor helpless scholar after him, came to the tree-root, pushed it aside, lifted up the trap-door, and forced Dingyleaf before him, down the steps to the doors of the vault. “ Take hold ! ” he said to the gasping scholar, and made Dingy- leaf hold the lanthorn, while he himself unlocked the new and strong fastenings which he had lately affixed to the doors of the vault. “ Go on, and I’ll show you the lions ! ” cried Threap, pushing the scholar before him. And Dingyleaf had to be pushed stoutly, or he would not have ventured. The lawyer again seized his arm, and pulled him a considerable way into the vault ; but growing wearied, drew him back to the stone door which concealed the smuggled tobacco and spirits, and made him stand inside the nook to look at its stores. “ Look ye, doctor, look! — ay, and smell! Isn’t the fragrance delicious?” said Threap; “ now don’t look so frightened, doctor! Come, we’ll go back now. Keep fast hold o’ the lanthorn; and carry it steady — d’ye hear? — I mean to carry this keg of brandy into the house.” He seized the keg ; but it slipped from his hands, which were becoming benumbed with the excess of the night. Again he laid hold of it ; and, although it slipped from his hold again, he would have made another reeling effort to secure it — but an un- usual noise arrested his attention. Dingyleaf opened his mouth, and also listened. There was the sound of wheels, there was the cracking of whips, and then the sound of voices borne along on the night-air. Loud knocks at the house-door succeeded, and the dog barked furiously. The scholar and the lawyer stood, each open-mouthed and listening, and staring at one another. More knocks, and louder ! And now a sonorous voice shouted : — “Mr. Threap! Mr. Threap! Mr. Threap!” “ Who the devil’s that ? ” said the lawyer, with a degree of ALDERMAN RALPH. 255 recognition of the voice sufficient to fill him with a sobering foreboding. “ It’s — it’s — it’s Mr. Alderman Ralph ! ” said Dingy leaf, quak- ing from head to foot. More knocks and louder, and louder still. “Mr. Threap! Mr. Threap! Mr. Threap!” shouted several voices. Threap began to feel sober enough to carry a couple of kegs; but that was not to be thought of now. “ Oh ! what must we do'?” exclaimed Dingyleaf; “ I durst not see Mr. Ralph. What must I do 1 ? what must I do 1 ?” “ Stay here, with the lanthorn, doctor,” said the lawyer ; “ and I’ll go up and face ’em ! ” “Stay here! OLord! I durst not — and yet I durst not go up,” said Dingyleaf. “ I tell you, you must stay here,” repeated the lawyer, while the thundering knocks were heard again, and the shouting ; “ sit ye down there, and be quiet till I come back.” So saying, Threap pushed the scholar upon a keg for a seat, left him with the lanthorn, and rushed to the top of the stone steps. There Threap hastily let down the trap-door, and then, having as hastily replaced the tree-root, he glided through the orchard, re-entered his house by the back door, and advancing to the front, cried out, so soon as there was some cessation of the noise : — “Who’s there?” — and as soon as he had spoken, bethought him of his pistols. “ The mayor of Willowacre, Mr. Alderman Trueman, and other members of the corporation,” answered Mr. Pomponius Pratewell. “ I don’t believe it,” answered Threap ; “ you must be some gang of midnight robbers — perhaps the very rascals who robbed me on the highway last week. Gentlemen would never conduct themselves in this outrageous way.” “ I, Ralph Trueman, am here, for one, Mr. Threap,” said the goodly alderman, “ however greatly you may affect to doubt it.” 256 ALDERMAN RALPH. “And what may Mr. Alderman Trueman want here?” de- manded Threap, “ that he comes in this alarming and illegal way?” “ I’ll answer for the illegality of this proceeding, Mr. Threap,” returned Mr. Ralph ; “ we wish to speak with Dr. Dingyleaf, who, we are informed, is in your house at this present time.” “ Then you are falsely informed,” asserted Threap; “the doc- tor is not here : he is at his own home.” “That will not do, Mr. Threap,” objected Mr. Ralph; “you had better admit us.” “Well — you can come in,” answered Threap, revolving some anxious thoughts ; “ you will find what I say to be true. But I must get a light first” — “We can give you a light,” said Jerry Dimple. “ I prefer to get one for myself,” said Threap ; and immediately withdrew to his study, where he quickly loaded a pair of pistols and put them within his coat ; locked up the conveyance of the Barleyacre estate ; took the greater part of what money he had out of his cash-box ; and, having lighted a candle at the fire in his study, again advanced towards the front of his house. His sister, and his servants, had descended to the ground-fioor by this time; but Threap remanded the servants up-stairs imme- diately. Then giving the keys of his cash-box and trunks to his sister, he whispered a few words to her, and also hastened her up-stairs. “ Mr. Threap ! ” shouted Mr. Ralph, with another loud knock at the door ; “ do you mean to open the door, or are you trifling with us?” “No, sir; and I hope you are not come to trifle with me,” answered Threap, unfastening the door, and opening it. “ Indeed, sir, you will find that our errand is not a trifling one,” declared Mr Ralph, as he crossed the threshold. Threap thrust his right hand within the breast of his coat, and stepped back, while the mayor and town-clerk, with Mr. Ger- v.ase, Mark Siftall, and Jerry Dimple, entered the passage. ALDERMAN RALPH. 257 Threap stood still, with the lighted candle in his left hand, and looked fiercely at his visiters, hut without speaking. “ We wish to satisfy ourselves as to whether Dr. Dingy leaf he in your house, Mr. Threap,” said Alderman Ralph, adding, “that is to say, in the first place.” “And what in the second place?” demanded the lawyer, grasping the pistol under his coat. “We will discharge the first business, sir, if you please,” said Mr. Ralph ; “ and we shall desire to see every room in your house, except those in which your mother and sisters sleep, of course.” “Deeply obliged, Mr. Alderman,” returned Threap, with a mock how and a grin ; “ I have hut one of my sisters at home, and no mother here, at present. You can see every room — for I’m sure my sister will not desire you to omit her’s, seeing that the doctor has such a reputation for gallantry.” Mr. Ralph felt that this was intended for his peculiar annoy- ance; hut he did not show it. Threap led the way into the house; and indeed over every part of it. The disappointment of the Willowacre party was very great when, after an entire search over the whole building, their prize was not found. Mr. Ralph, Threap could clearly see, was most deeply mortified ; and the lawyer was disposed to increase his mortification. “ A pretty errand, Mr. Trueman, this to come upon,” he said tauntingly ; “ it was had enough to send a crew of fellows to search my house for smuggled liquor ; hut to come yourself in search of a smuggled doctor, is an improvement — a remarkable improve- ment, Mr. Trueman!” “ Mr. Threap, you had better say as little as possible,” observed Alderman Ralph. “ And you had better quit my house as soon as possible,” re- torted Threap, fiercely ; “ apology for this unwarrantable intru- sion, I cannot expect from persons whom I shall no longer consider to be gentlemen; but let me be rid of your intrusion” - — and he strode to the door, and opened it, and motioned with his hand. But not a man moved. VOL. II. s 258 ALDERMAN RALPH. “Now, then,” he said with an oath, and strode hack to the farther side of the room, took out a pistol and pointed it at Mr. Ralph and his friends, “ if you don’t he off this moment, take the consequences ! ” “ Hurrah ! this way, my hoys ! ” cried a voice outside ; and other voices answered, and the tramp of many feet was heard. Threap’s pistol hand dropped, and he strained his eyes towards the open door, hut felt unahle to move towards it. The gaze of Mr. Ralph and his friends was turned in the same direction, hut with very different apprehensions. Young Jonathan Jipps hounded in at the open door, and half a dozen of the coast- waiter’s men, with the coast- waiter himself, and Peter Weather- wake and Will Scroggs, followed. But the lawyer did not stay to see the two last mentioned enter. He lifted up his hand, fired at young Jonathan ; and then turned and fled hy a door behind him. The young man’s left arm was broken above the elbow, and he fell. Two of the coast- waiter’s men sprang towards the door hy which Threap had retreated ; hut he had closed it as he escaped, and, finding it firmly fastened, they darted hack towards the door hy which they had entered. In the shrubbery, the dog — a powerful mastiff — which Threap had unchained, seized one of the men, and dragged him to the ground. The other man had great difficulty in rescuing his companion ; and then they turned hack to the house, feeling it to he hopeless and vain to attempt the pursuit of Threap in the dark. The company within the house, now become a crowd, were preventing rather than assisting each other, in raising up Jonathan, and binding his arm with handkerchiefs. The young man was the bravest among them, and seemed to have more pre- sence of mind than all his helpers put together. “ Bring the lights,” he said, refusing more bandages to his broken and bleeding limb, “ and let me show you where the vault is, in the orchard ; and then take me home to my poor old father, and fetch the surgeon from Willowacre.” They soon found the tree-clump by Jonathan’s guidance, lifted ALDERMAN RALPH. 259 up the trap-door, and descending, found the trembling and terri- fied Dingyleaf. The coast-waiter and his men, with Peter, J erry Dimple, and the old sexton, remained among the smuggled stores ; but Mr. Palph taking one arm of the affrighted scholar, and Mr. Pomponius the other, proceeded to take him up the steps, and were followed by their corporate friends, supporting young Jona- than, who had also descended into the vault to show them the stone door. J ust as the scholar was borne to the top of the stone stair, and his head and half of his body appeared above the earth, Threap, close at hand, fired the second pistol, and, missing his aim, daringly advanced, struck Dingyleaf a fell blow on the head with the pistol, knocked him down, and then threw down the trap-door, and fled. Dingyleaf had overturned Mr. Palph and his friends ; and as they lay at the bottom of the steps, struggling to get up, while the scholar roared aloud, Alderman Palph, in spite of their unenviable situation, shook his burly sides with laughter. “ Oh Lord — what shall I do ! Oh dear — oh dear ! what will become of me?” roared Dingyleaf. “ Are you hurt, doctor?” asked Mr. Palph. “ Shot ! shot !” answered the scholar; “ I’m dying — I’m dying — God be merciful to me !” “ Where is the wound?” asked Mr. Pratewell, when he had looked at Dingyleaf with one of the lights brought by the coast- waiter’s men, and could see none. “ The bullet went through my head!” replied Dingyleaf; “I shall die — I shall die ! I’ve been a wicked wretch ; but I haven’t burnt the Deed, though the villainous lawyer and Sir Nigel Nickem wanted me to burn it. I gave it to your servant, Mr. Palph. There! I’ve told the truth, and I shall die with an easier conscience now. Oh, take me home to bed, and fetch the parson ! ” “Pooh, pooh, doctor!” said Alderman Palph, as well as he could speak for laughter; “ you’ll not die yet. You will recover your brains when you get over your fright : they are not shot 260 ALDERMAN RALPH. away. Why, man, there is no wound in your head— but there’s a terrible lump rising here.” “ It’s there — it’s there ! Oh dear— oh dear ! ” cried Dingy- leaf, shrinking as the alderman applied his hand to the bump. “ The rascal must have struck you on the head with the pis- tol,” said Mr. Ralph ; “ but there is no wound, I tell you, doctor. You’ll be better soon. Come, you must go with us to Willow- acre.” “ Oh, don’t take me ! Don’t punish me ! I’ll get you the Deed as soon as I can find Betty. Don’t punish me ! I’ll give you any money to let me go,” promised and entreated the frightened scholar. “I have found Betty, and I have the Deed,” said Mr. Ralph; “ but you must go with us, doctor.” “ Found the Deed ! found my Betty ! ” cried Dingyleaf. “ Yes, and you must make her Betty Dingyleaf,” answered the senior alderman. “ I will, I will — only forgive me, and let me go ! ” said the scholar, struggling to free himself from the gripe of Alderman Ralph. “ Confound ye for a bleating calf!” burst forth the mayor Diggory ; “ hold your tongue ! ” “ Silence, or I’ll tie your mouth up ! ” said Mark Siftall, unable, like the mayor, to restrain his anger and disgust. “Be quiet, doctor!” said the town-clerk; “you must go to Willowacre. And the less noise you make, the better it may be for you.” But Dingyleaf could not be silenced. “We are forgetting that poor suffering young man,” observed Alderman Ralph ; “ bring him along with us ! We shall get him much sooner into the care of a surgeon by taking him with us, than by leaving him at Meadowbeck, and sending the surgeon over to him. Mr. Coast-waiter, let two of your men raise the trap-door for us, and we will be going. You, of course, will remain to attend to your proper business. Mr. Mayor, and ALDERMAN RALPH. 261 brother magistrates, I think the officers should take possession of Threap’s house and property for the present.” “ Yes, yes: to be sure!” answered the mayor and the rest. “ And your worship had better send over the borough con- stable and some assistants,” said Mr. Pomponius; ^nd the mayor assented. Young Jonathan entreated to be taken home, but Jerry Dimple assured him he should have free and hearty hospitality at the Wheat Sheaf; Mr. Palph and the town-clerk convinced him that it would be better to have the surgeon’s aid as soon as possible; Will Scroggs promised to go and inform his father of his arrival ; and so J onathan consented, and he was placed in one of the chaises with Mr. Gervase and Mark Siftall. Dingyleaf was conducted to the other, and shared it with Mr. Palph and the mayor and town-clerk. The carriages drove off; and Jerry Dimple, Peter the sexton, the coast-waiter and his men, remained at the vault. Dingyleaf s paroxysms of fright were often renewed as the carriages rolled on to Willowacre; but as the day broke, he sank into silence, and seemed ashamed either to speak or to look upon his companions. At the toll-gate, Gregory Markpence stepped up to the window of the carriage in which sat the scholar, eyed him with a peculiar expression, and then addressed the cor- porate dignitaries thus : — “ You ought to know what you are doing; but without of- fence to ye, gentlemen — that is to say, mayor, senior alderman, and town-clerk — I think you have only done your business in a bungling way.” “ What do you mean, sir? You are taking a great liberty, sir,” said Mr. Palph, offended. “ And so has Threap taken a great liberty,” said Gregory. “ Liberty! How — what?” asked the dignitaries and the town-clerk. “ He rode over the bridge like a fury but a quarter of an hour ago,” answered Markpence ; “ and if I had not hurried to open 262 ALDERMAN RALPH. the gate, I believe lie would have tried to make his mare leap over it. He did not stop to pay the toll — indeed I did not stay to take it — but slipped into the house, out of his way; and away he dashed up the street, making the stones strike fire with his horse’s hoofs, and followed by his great dog.” “But why didn’t you stop him'?” asked the mayor Diggory; “ you ought to have stopped him.” “ I’m not a constable. And a poor man like me must not take liberties,” grinned Markpence, and turned away, while the mayor Diggory reddened with anger. “We really have blundered in this business,” said the candid Alderman Ralph, as the chaise re-entered the old borough ; “ we ought to have taken the constable and two or three of his men with us.” “ I thought of suggesting that to his worship and yourself, sir,” said Mr. Pomponius ; “ but we set off so hastily. And, more- over, no charge having been made against Threap in a formal way, I considered that he could not be legally arrested.” “Arrested!” exclaimed the mayor; “why, neither Barnabas nor any of our men would have dared to touch him with that pistol in his hand. He looked like a fiend!” “ Upon my word, I think you are right !” declared Mr. Ralph; “ and considering what you have also said, Mr. Pratewell, I am glad you did not propose this bad man’s arrest. He will not escape justice, however; for, depend upon it, he will attempt some worse crime yet, and bring punishment upon his guilty head.” The chaise stopped at the town-clerk’s door, and Dingyleaf was conducted into the house by Mr. Pomponius : Mr. Ralph having too keen a remembrance of part of Betty’s story, to be willing to re-introduce the scholar into the company of May Silverton. ALDERMAN RALPH. 263 » CHAPTER VI. Heroic resolutions and plans of the Baronet in his ruined Position : the Message from his fugitive Prime Minister. Had our minstrel — whose story we are not about to resume in the present chapter — been as skilful in tracing the springs of his own thoughts, as he was fertile in invention and busy to act, he would have known that his “ presentiments” or forebodings of evil before that second visit to old Nykin’s den, arose from what he had observed of the behaviour of those whom he saw there at his first visit. Sir Nigel Nickem was too well educated to believe in presentiments ; but he had an undefined dread that something disastrous would happen on the day that he received the note from Alice. He had been unable to disguise from himself that she showed increasing uneasiness in his company; and it was only by a forced gaiety that he sustained his spirits during the ride home with Gilbert and his sister on the preced- ing day. Alice’s gloom and taciturnity, during the journey, were so notable, that Gilbert, as we have seen, felt driven to seek an explanation ; and, in coming to the resolution to ask for one, determined to urge his sister to consent that the day of her nuptials should be fixed. The baronet received Alice Pevensey’s note within an hour after Gilbert had left her. Its language was decisive; and Sir Nigel knew the character of her mind too well to expect any favourable change from further remonstrances on the part of her brother. His first feeling was rage mingled with despair at his prospects. But he soon began to recover courage. The whole proceeds from the sale of the Barleyacre estate, he reflected, would enable him to pay off some of his more pressing debts, 264 ALDERMAN RALPH. and to hold up his head yet a while. Then there might he an award of the expenses for rebuilding the bridge over the Slow- flow, by good management on the part of Plombline and Back- stitch; when the Deed was destroyed, and Dingy leaf had pro- claimed that it could not be found. Dingyleaf he would defy after the Deed was burnt: he would not further impoverish himself to reward such a rascal! Nor would he be so liberal as he had hitherto been towards Threap. He wished he had not consented to join the notes for presenting Hugh and Nicky with one hundred pounds each. Could he not contrive to hold back part of the four hundred pounds promised to Dingyleaf for the coming night? He could not pay Pevensey as yet; for it would be unwise to part with the money he had received from the lawyer, until Threap obtained him more from the purchaser of the Barleyacre estate. What should he say to Pevensey? But why see Pevensey at all? he would not see Pevensey; but would leave a note to say, that he thought it due to his friend to avoid the distressing theme after the irrevocable sentence he had received from Alice. Sir Nigel sat down and wrote such a note ; and politely hint- ed that he would remit Gilbert’s debt so soon as he reached London. He then ordered his carriage and drove off to the Bed Lion, giving directions to his servants to pack up and bring the luggage also to the inn, as quickly as possible, in order that the journey to London might be commenced on the following day. On arriving at the Bed Lion, since it wanted some hours to the time fixed for the arrival of Threap and Dingyleaf, the baronet shut himself up to think — first directing Sol Topple, the landlord, to deny access to Pevensey, should he call, or to any body but the two conspirators he expected at a late hour. B even ^ e ! he desired it. He might secure a match with some heiress, rich and beautiful far more than Alice. The little beauty — the niece of old Trueman — he had determined to rob Gilbert of his expected treasure, and make her a dishonourable prey. Why should he not marry her? The alderman was as wealthy as ALDERMAN RALPH, 265 Gilbert, by Pevensey’s own account; and May Silverton would have bis undivided fortune. To mortify Alice, by making the little beauty “Lady Nickem ;” to wound Gilbert by depriving him of the woman on whom his heart was set : it would be rich re- venge. Pevensey: Sir Nigel began to hate him now, for his own weakness and blindness, as well as because he was the brother of the proud, scornful Alice ! Yet this would make Pevensey an uncompromising enemy to his parliamentary interest in the borough. But could he not protest that this would be ill-usage'? He had never consented to receive Pevensey’s confessions of love for May. He could swear he was ignorant of it. He could appeal to Pevensey, that Alice herself was the cause why their alliance was prevented. And how to get possession of May Silverton? It must be by stratagem accompanied with force; for her uncle would never consent to receive him as a wooer. She could be carried off. He had secretly watched her and Gilbert in their fond meetings by night — for these meetings had been renewed since Alderman Balph’s recovery. The walk under the trees, and in the little wood, was retired; and an ambush and a bold stroke might en- able him to possess May. Having carried her off, he would marry her as soon as ever they could secure a clergyman; and then avow all he had done, protesting the madness of love and despair of receiving her uncle’s consent, to the fine old burly senior alderman. The old man’s heart would yearn over his niece. He would never visit her severely. They should be reconciled; and, in Alderman Balph, a better and stronger sup- porter for his parliamentary interest would be gained than in Gilbert Pevensey. Sir Nigel’s corrupt heart glowed as he indulged these thoughts. Then he rejected them as silly dreams; but soon indulged them again — and asked himself why they could not be realised soon. Could not Threap assist him? Threap was bold and crafty enough for any thing. But he would not trust Threap : Threap was an inborn villain. Yet who had served him so well as this 266 ALDERMAN RALPH. Meadowbeck lawyer? What generalship the fellow had shown in this affair of the Deed ! And he had displayed sincerity, too, in laying down the hundred pounds; and had shown such wondrous promptitude in disposing of the Barley acre property, and getting hold of two thousand as a deposit ! Threap must be sounded ; for he might render very effective help in accomplishing the seizure of May. And why quit Willowacre without her? It would be masterly to take her off at once, while Alice Pevensey’s wound was fresh — for Sir Nigel knew that his hold on the heart of Alice had been strong, though her perception of his utter want of love for her, had enabled her to subdue the yearnings of the heart with the strength of the understanding. Thus Sir Nigel Nickem schemed, and often dashed aside his schemes, only to forge them anew and more self-seductively. The hour arrived when Threap was to have brought again Dingyleaf with the Deed ; and the wickedness was to have been completed. But the conspirators did not come. It was near midnight when Sol Topple brought the note which Threap had despatched by a messenger, informing the baronet that the scholar was unwell, and that he, Threap, would see Sir Nigel early the next morning. Sir Nigel’s disappointment was bitter; but he was compelled to swallow it. ITe recalled the landlord; said that, in consequence of information from his lawyer, he should not depart for London the next morning, and directed that his servants should consider themselves as settled at the Bed Lion for another day or two. He was sleepless nearly the whole night; and while awake reformed his scheme about May, and even endeavoured to persuade himself that this delay might result in enabling him to possess her the more speedily. The morning had only just broken when there was a knock at his chamber door. When he asked who was there, Sol Topple desired to give a letter into his own hands, from Mr. Nicholas Backstitch, as being of immediate importance. Sir Nigel rose and received the letter. The pacquet consisted of a brief note from Threap, which the lawyer had contrived to write before ALDERMAN RALPH. 267 saddling his horse, and while the visiters from Willowacre were in the vault; and one from Backstitch, stating that Threap had left the note but a very short time ago in his care, and had then dashed off on horseback out of the town. The baronet desired Sol Topple to wait ; glanced over the two notes ; and then asked if Backstitch were in the inn. Sol Topple answered that he was. “ Send him up to me immediately,” said Sir Nigel. “How did you know that I was here?” asked the man of title, when Mr. Nicky had cringingly entered the bed-room, and Sol had disappeared and closed the door. “We saw your carriage drive into the inn-yard in the after- noon,” answered little Nicky, “and then saw the servants arrive with the luggage. Plombline and I asked one of them what was the meaning of it ; and he said you were going off to London early this morning. We have been greatly agitated during the night — I mean Plombline and myself, Sir Nigel — for there are strange reports abroad. Alderman Balph, and the mayor, and town-clerk, and indeed all their set, went over the bridge in two chaises soon after midnight; and then the coast- waiter and several of his men followed. And, just now, the mayor and town-clerk and the rest have returned, and Dr. Dingy leaf in one of the chaises with them, looking like a ghost. They have taken him into the town-clerk’s house ; and they say strange things, Sir Nigel. Mr. Threap gave me the letter for you; and I told him you were here, and that you were going to London this morning ; but I would convey the letter to you at once.” The baronet gazed at Mr. Nicholas with open mouth; struggled with his terror; and then asked — “What strange things do they say?” “ That the Bridge Deed is found,” whispered Nicky. Sir Nigel felt greater terror; but again strove to hide it. “ Mr. Backstitch, do not say that you have seen me,” he said ; “ but come here to-night at nine o’clock, and bring Mr. Plomb- 268 ALDERMAN RALPH. line with you. This is all a trick, depend upon it ! But say nothing; I rely upon you.” Mr. Nicky cringingly assured the great man, and withdrew. Threap’s note was a thunderstroke to his grand client, though so brief: it said — “ The game is up, both for you and me. But we can help each other yet — and you cannot help yourself. Take horse, and mount one of your servants with a rough great-coat, a travelling cap, and any other thing that will serve me as a disguise; and meet me at the northern corner of the wood near , at noon to-day.” Sir Nigel held the note in his hand, and sat up in bed, with his gaze fixed, not on the note, but the room windows. For a long time he could scarcely be said to think. He felt bereaved of the power of thinking. Suicidal temptations presented them- selves ! The Bridge Deed secured by Alderman Balph and the corporation — Threap absconded — Alice lost — himself ruined ! It was long before he could look fully and resolutely at the facts, or gather one atom of hope. Yet he rallied so far as to get out of bed, ring for his hot water, and put away the temptation to commit suicide. Over his breakfast, the baronet mustered more strength, summoned his most trusty servant, gave him directions about the great-coat and cap, and orders for the horses; and finally rode out of Willowacre, with sufficient time before him to be able to reach the appointed wild spot at noon, as directed by Threap. ALDERMAN RALPH. 269 CHAPTER YIL The interview of Lawyer and grand Client in the Wood ; and their desperate Resolves. In his rides during the latter part of the period which Sir Nigel Nickem had resided with Gilbert Pevensey, he had be- come well acquainted with the country for a circuit of several miles; and he had, therefore, no difficulty in finding the wood, at the northern corner of which Threap had appointed their meeting. He did not ride up to the spot ; but gave his horse to his servant, when he guessed they were within half a mile of it ; told the man to wait till his return, took the great-coat and travelling cap, and walked forward. He was nearing the corner of the wood which pointed northward, and with some effort among the brambles and under-wood, for there was no path, when Threap sprang up from beneath the thick covert of a shrub, and presented himself, with a low coarse laugh, but with blood-shot eyes, and a look so haggard and sinister, that the baronet’s heart misgave him for venturing thither. “ Thought you would come,” said Threap, clutching the hand which his grand client helplessly surrendered ; “ this is a hellish blow-up; but we can outwit Old Slowcoach, and the rest of ’em, yet — only let us lay our heads together. Coat’s just the thing, and capital ! Let ’em lie there,” he said, snatching them from his client, and throwing them under the bush where he had been concealed. “ But what is the blow-up ? ” asked Sir Nigel; “ I only had a few confused hints from Backstitch.” “ Come here, under the cover of this bush,” said Threap, pull- 270 ALDERMAN RALPH. in g the other after him ; “ and now whisper : these dry leaves and stalks may have ears. But don’t look so frightened. I’m ready for game. Look at these bull-dogs ! ” and he drew forth his pistols and showed them to his companion, who was by no means rendered easier by the sight. “But why are you hiding thus?” asked the baronet, tremu- lously ; “ they have got Dingy leaf and the Bridge Deed, Back- stich says ; but neither you nor I can be in danger from any confession that he may make, I 'should think. He will endanger himself most by making a confession. I should deny it if he made any charge against me; and could not you do the same? Where is his proof against us?” “ Has Backstitch told you nothing more ? ” “ More ? oh, the coast-waiter and his men, he said, had gone over to Meadowbeck. Has that any thing to do with — but no : that can’t be so ! ” “ What can’t be so ? ” “ It can’t be the old charge revived ; and that you have really been concerned in ” — “ Smuggling, as they call it : fair-trading, as we call it ; and as I’ve practised it, for ten years and more ; and done jolly well by it, too.” The man of title shrunk with disgust. It was true, then, that he had been linked with a low illicit dealer in contraband to- bacco and spirits. Had entrusted his secret concerns to this man, had been counselled and guided by this man, and was now in a lonely wood with this man, unarmed, and fully in this man’s power. “You look frightened,” said Threap, evidently enjoying the baronet’s timidity, and scorning his disgust; “a smuggler isn’t a wild beast, though he requires a lion s courage ; and let me tell you, baronet, he’s not so dangerous as a lawyer and he laughed in his throat, and squeezed his great client s arm. The baronet wished himself safe in the Bed Lion at Willow- acre; but made an effort to conceal his fear and dislike. ALDERMAN RALPH. 271 “ Then they have found proof of your being a fair-trader, as you call it?” he said. “ Proof! ay; and pretty strong proof too,” answered Threap quickly ; “ I’ll answer for it, such a vault of stuff has not been found within one hundred miles round, ever since the cursed revenue laws were made ” — and he looked exultant. The baronet marked his pride, and how it moved him to boast even in danger; deemed it a weakness, and felt less fear of him. “ Then, if they catch you, I suppose your penalty would be heavy?” inquired Sir Nigel. “ Heavier than I shall pay ; and they’ll not catch me,” an- swered Threap. “But your property? You don’t mean to quit the country?” “ My property they’ll seize — except so far as I can carry it off in my hands ; and I mean to quit the country — but not till I’ve done a little particular business — and put you in a way to help yourself.” The scheme for securing May rose uppermost in the baronet’s mind ; and he thought this man could have no scruple to help him in any scheme, however nefarious. Yet he shrunk from the idea of asking aid from such a wretch. “ A little business : of what kind?” asked Sir Nigel; “ and how do you propose that I should help myself? Of course,” he said, with a sudden thought, “ the fact of your disappearance will create no obstacle to my obtaining the full purchase-money for Barley- acre, from Squire Hangdog? You have duly handed to him the title-deeds ? ” “ The title-deeds of the Barleyacre estate have been duly hand-» ed to the purchaser,” replied Threap. “ To Hangdog — he is really the man ?” “Don’t urge me to betray professional secrets,” answered Threap, with his old low mocking laugh. “ This is absurd trifling now. I must insist on knowing.” “ Be quiet ! Don’t put yourself in a fume and a fret ! ” 272 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ I must not be put off in that way. It is of the last impor- tance to me to know.” “ Be quiet, I say ! You shall know, at the proper time.” " Proper time ! I must know now. I have nothing in the world to calculate upon — nothing,” Sir Nigel added passionately, “ to save me from ruin, in fact, but the purchase-money of that estate. You must tell me now, Threap; for I shall be under the necessity of applying personally to Hangdog, and requesting him to complete the purchase as soon as possible.” “ Pooh, pooh ! ” answered Threap, with galling coolness ; “ you can shuffle on with the two thousand you have in hand till you get the wedding over ; and then Pevensey will put you in cash.” “ Pevensey be d — d ! ” exclaimed the baronet aloud ; “ that scheme is all over ! ” The lawyer caught the titled man’s arm, and said “ Hush ! ” — questioned him ; and having extracted the circumstantial facts of his final repulse by Alice, and of the way in which he had left Pevensey’s house, gave him a look so fiendishly exultant, that he shook off Threap’s hand, and withdrew his look from Threap’s face in absolute terror. “ Ha, hah ! he is in my power ! I can do with him what I like now,” thought Threap ; and Sir Nigel discerned Threap’s thought in those glazed eyes, and demoniac expression of face ! Neither spoke for some seconds; and when Threap resumed the secret conversation, his face was so changed that the other could look at it without that sickening feeling of terror; and yet Threap’s language convinced Sir Nigel that he was more fully in the lawyer’s power than he had supposed. “We are in the same boat,” began the lawyer slowly, and seeming to weigh every word, but really intending the baronet to feel every word’s weight ; “ we are shipwrecks unless we can row together and in earnest. Hangdog is not the purchaser ot your estate. Don’t interrupt me ! — I shall not tell you who is the purchaser till the proper time. You carry your money about ALDERMAN RALPH. 273 you, I know. Give me the hundred pounds I paid Dingyleaf, on your account. Lost, now, of course. But never mind that ! What’s done can’t be undone. You may as well give me another hundred, now we are a-doing. And, indeed, you owe it me for professional services. I shall not ask you for more,” — Threap went on, handling one of the pistols, while Sir Nigel, with as little appearance of fear and dislike as he could command, took out his pocket-book, and handed his comrade the notes to the amount demanded. “ I shall not ask you for more. But I need this ; for I have a scheme to effect which will require money. You shall not re- gret handing me this money. I’ll not blow your real condition — and you’ll not be so mad as to blow it yourself, by advertising for information as to who is the purchaser of your estate of Barleyacre. Nor shall I curry favour with Alderman Trueman and his party by turning upon you, and telling what part you took in bribing Dingyleaf. That might help me to make in- terest, and get some protection against the revenue people. But I shall not do it. It would ruin your M-P-ship for Willow- acre.” “ I can’t bear this cold-blooded talk, Threap,” burst forth the tortured baronet ; “ what do you propose to do — what is this busi- ness you say you intend to transact for yourself, before you quit the country? And if you will not tell me what it is — say how you propose to help me.” “ Don’t be so impetuous. I do intend to tell you what my business is ; for in it I shall need your help ; and in helping me you will help yourself. Mark ! If you help me, I shall tell you not only who is the purchaser of your estate ; but some other secrets — don’t look incredulous — some other secrets that concern yourself, and are of the greatest value to you — moneyed value, mark ! I shall need your help. Are you willing to give it ? First and foremost, I mean to take a young lass with me across the water; and I shall have to steal her. You grin ! But you VOL. II. T 274 ALDERMAN RALPH. have your weakness in that line, too. And — I say, baronet, I’d help you in a like piece of work.” “You would ! Give me your hand, Threap !” “Sensible!” said Threap, and swore it; “we can carry off Pevensey’s sister and my Margery ” — “ Pevensey’s sister ! pah !” “Hah! what! the little gem? — sweet May?” “You have it, Threap. But how came you to think of it?” “ I saw your mouth water after her a long time ago. But you’ll break her uncle’s heart ! ” “ Hot I. I mean honourably by her, Threap.” “Whew! Steal her first, and marry her afterwards! So!” the lawyer added thoughtfully, “why the devil didn’t you think of this before? It might have put your affairs into clover before now.” “Hot worth while asking that question now, Threap. The question is — how is the thing to be accomplished!” “We’ll contrive that. You remain at the Bed Lion?” “Of course I do. What then?” “You must smuggle me in there to-night.” “Hay! it isn’t I who am the contraband trader, you know.” “Yes, and fit to be my captain, baronet. Hay, don’t blush ! I don’t flatter you. But hearken ! I have only proposed one part of my scheme : the other may startle you.” “ What is it?” asked the baronet looking into Threap’s eyes, but turning away quickly from their fell and revolting expres- sion. “You won’t help me!” said the lawyer, with a bitter oath ; “ you had better. I mean to give several death-pills with these, before I make myself scarce; and you must help me, in one in- stance, at least.” The baronet positively refused. He did it in fear; but jie looked courageous with decision ; and Threap only said, “ Y ery well! Then we’ll say no more about that.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 27 5 Sir Nigel then consented to meet Threap at night, a little out of Willowacre, and to introduce him, in disguise, as a friend, into Sol Topple’s inn ; and the baronet departed, leaving the other villain in his hiding-place. 276 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER VIII. Mr. Ralph says something which makes May very happy : he succeeds in ob- taining mercy for a Transgressor : the Baronet executes a part of the scheme agreed to in the Wood. Alderman Ralph was bent on doing business summarily. “ Mr. Mayor/’ said he to the worshipful Diggory, so soon as Dingyleaf had been imprisoned in the town-clerk’s parlour, with Mrs. Pratewell for jailer, “ let me entreat you to order that the corporation be summoned to an especial meeting at the Guild- hall to-morrow at noon. The magistrates’ meeting will be over, and the poor fiddler released, by that time. We must not trifle about the Bridge Deed now we have it. The doctor, too, must be set at liberty as soon as possible; but we must not let him go out of our hands till he has delivered the Deed in form.” “ J ust what I wished to do,” declared Diggory. “ I will send the summons round immediately,” said Mr. Pomponius. “But what shall we really do about the doctor?” asked the mayor; “you would not let the scoundrel off scot-free, would you?” “We must talk it over. Come and breakfast with me, both of you,” said Mr. Ralph. “ Obliged, sir,” answered Mr. Pomponius ; “ I think we had better meet an hour hence at the Wheat Sheaf. I will under- take to inform our other friends who came in the second chaise. This is a matter which can scarcely be determined over a break- fast. Besides, we may have news from the coast-waiter’s party, by that time. The whole of this day must be devoted to busi- ness. ALDERMAN RALPH. 277 “ To business ! you are right, Mr. Prate well,” said Alderman Ralph. “ To business!” said the mayor; “ then we meet there?” “ At the Wheat Sheaf, in an hour,” agreed Mr. Ralph. Sweet May! if the harder facts of our history did not forbid such enlargement at this crisis of the story, how delightful it would be to describe the interest with which you listened to your uncle’s rapid and excited talk over his breakfast. And when he broadly delivered the statement that Sir Nigel Nickem was, he feared, a worse man than he had taken him for; and related how the baronet had joined with Threap to tempt Dingyleaf to villainy — how your heart beat, and your lovely face glowed, as you remembered what Gilbert had told you, in the walk between the trees the preceding night ! Edgar sighs piteously at that fatal name of Sir Nigel Nickem, and wishes he had never seen Alice Pevensey ; or that you had never seen Gilbert, and walked with your lover, as he saw you walk last night — although you thought you were unobserved. “A y, Sir Nigel Nickem!” repeated Mr. Ralph, becoming somewhat abstracted in his thinking, although he was eating wdiile he was talking; “ Sir Nigel Nickem! And this is the man whom Mr. Pevensey called his honoured and valued friend ! Surely Mr. Pevensey will be undeceived now : a man that I respect so much”— “ He is undeceived, uncle ! ” Oh, sweet May! what have you done? your little heart was so full that it prompted your tongue. The words cannot be recalled. And there you are, all crimson, and with trembling hand pouring the coffee beside your uncle’s cup ! “ Stop, stop, my dear!” cried Mr. Ralph, looking at the pool of coffee; “undeceived, my love?” he says, looking at your crimson face. And then he remembers what Betty told him about you and Gilbert ; and glancing at Edgar, who, he perceives, is gazing upon you apprehensively, he determines — so doatingly does he love you — to come to your aid, and suggests — 278 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ You have seen Miss Pevensey, love. What? — how? — - undeceived — you said.” “ Sir Nigel has left Lovesoup House finally,” answered May, strengthened not only by her fond uncle’s kindness, but by the ray of comfort she expected her revelation would shed into the heart of Edgar; “ Miss Pevensey has refused him, and believes him to be a bad man.” “ Upon my word, I always held her to be a very sensible young lady,” declared the worthy alderman. Edgar’s heart beat thick and fast; and May felt doubly happy as she glanced towards him, and saw the ray spreading over his face. “ Give my kindest regards to Miss Pevensey, my dear,” went on Mr. Ralph ; “ and tell her that she will have rendered her brother a lasting service, in my honest opinion, by delivering him from Sir Nigel Nickem.” May Silverton assured her uncle she would tell Miss Pevensey what he said. “ And my compliments, and I shall be happy to see her here, as she used to be,” added Mr. Ralph, as he rose up, and wiped his mouth, having just finished his breakfast. Mr. Edgar’s eyes filled, and he left the room. Sweet May clung round her uncle’s neck, as he stooped to kiss her according to his wont whenever he left her. “ And I shall be happy to see Mr. Pevensey, too, darling,” whispered Mr. Ralph, laughing, though the tears were in his eyes. “ Oh — dear, dear uncle ! ” “ Nay, nay — I shall never get through all this weight of business,” declared Mr. Ralph; relieved his neck of the arms that clung closer; kissed ten times the face that streamed with tears of ecstasy; and, leaving the sobbing heart to still itself as best it might, rushed out of the old parlour, and strode away to the Wheat Sheaf to meet his friends. ALDERMAN RALPH. 279 Margery had to go up to Lovesoup House to deliver two little notes that day. Gilbert had no cause to deem that sad which was addressed to himself; and even the lacerated heart of Alice was comforted by the sisterly lines addressed to her by May. Mr. Ralph and his friends held deep council at the Wheat Sheaf. He was the representative of Mercy. Mr. Pomponius, backed by the mayor, for a long time supported the side of Justice. Mr. Gervase halted between, but interiorly inclined to the softer genius and Mr. Ralph. Still the majority was on the sterner side, for Mark Siftall, held to it — till Jerry Dimple and ancient Peter arrived from Meadowbeck ; and then Mr. Ralph and Mercy triumphed. “ D’ye see, neighbours,” pronounced Peter when he had lighted his meerschaum, “ it isn’t for this rascally doctor’s sake, but for the sake of the poor young woman, that I argue he should escape the noose. He has deserved it. But I say, let him live and repent. Only compel him to make her an honest woman, and without delay. I wouldn’t trust him any farther than I could see him.” u But I would not give him a single farthing,” declared the mayor. “ So say I,” declared Mark Siftall. “ I hold to the same opinion,” said Mr. Ralph. “ If your worships determine to let him escape,” observed Mr. Pomponius, “it must be solely on the consideration that he has rendered this great service to the borough, and desires no pecuniary reward for it.” “ He shall promise to renounce and disclaim all reward,’’ affirmed Mr. Ralph; “and I would not have the joy of the borough, at the discovery of the Deed, damped by any harshness towards the discoverer.” “ Exactly my feeling,” said Jerry Dimple. “ I most decidedly think so,” said Mr. Gervase. “ Then let it be so,” said the mayor. 280 ALDERMAN RALPH. “ I give it up, too : we’ll all be on tlie same side,” said Mark Sift all. “ But the young woman'?” asked old Peter. “ He shall marry her by licence to-morrow morning before breakfast,” declared Mr. Balph. “ Bless your good heart ! ” cried J erry Dimple. “ And Mr. Balph’s sensible head,” added Peter Weatherwake. “ But if he should refuse, sir?” demanded Mr. Pomponius. “ Leave me to bring it about, sir. I’ll be answerable that it shall be done,” answered Mr. Balph. The fate of Dingyleaf was thus humanely decided. Peter Weatherwake next reported how the coast-waiter and his men had cleared Threap’s vault of the smuggled liquor and tobacco — the value of the articles was very considerable — and that they were all now safely brought away to Willowacre. Peter hinted that he hoped all doubt of the correctness of his former affirmation of Threap’s smuggling transactions must now be removed. Mr. Balph and the mayor assured him that they believed he would not only be believed by the whole borough, but receive the thanks of the public for the clew he had furnished to the discovery. “Why, yes, I did furnish the clew,” observed Peter; “but there were many kinks in it,” and he smoked away quietly ; but was pleased, nevertheless. “ Permit me to suggest to your worships,” said Mr. Pom- ponius, looking at the mayor and Mr. Alderman Balph, “ that I think some steps should be taken for the apprehension of Threap, if he can be found.” “ The coast- waiter has sent some of his men out in various directions to hunt for him,” said Jerry Dimple. “ Very proper,” observed Mr. Pratewell; “but I think the borough authorities should also take the matter up. But, per- haps, it would be better to wait till the re-examination of poor Jigg to-morrow morning — though Threap will certainly not appear there.” ALDERMAN RALPH. 281 “ He will not, Mr. Prate well,” said Alderman Ralph ; “ but be will be brought to punishment, as surely as we live. Let us wait till to-morrow.” The company agreed; they visited young Jonathan Jipps, who had been ordered to lie-a-bed by the surgeon ; and then, agreeing to meet in their usual way at night, they separated. Mr. Ralph accepted the invitation of Mr. Prate well to dinner, in order that he might use his rhetoric in bringing Dingy leaf to proper terms ; and it need only be said, that he fully succeeded. Mr. Ralph’s relation of his success was satisfactory to the company in the Wheat Sheaf parlour at night; and they again talked over the important transactions in which they had so recently been engaged; but changed none of their resolutions for the morrow. That night, Plombline and Backstitch met Sir Higel Mckem at the Red Lion. But what to say to them the baronet did not know. He had forgotten to ask Threap how he could now make use of them. They intimated, unmistakeably, their uneasiness about the bills for two hundred pounds, drawn upon Threap, and related the facts of the seizure at Meadowbeck, and Threap’s disability, as they feared, to pay. The baronet affected surprise ; and, pleading some engagement, dismissed them, with the request that they would call on him before the meeting of council next morning, which they had informed him had been summoned. Two hours later, Sir Higel, who had been out for a walk, re- entered the Red-Lion, in company with a very dark-coloured, whiskered, and foreign-looking man ; and told Sol Topple that he had fortunately met, at the door of one of the inns, this his old acquaintance abroad, and had persuaded his foreign friend to sojourn at the Red Lion, and accompany him to London. Sol Topple was more assiduous in helping to bring in supper, and waiting upon the baronet and his foreign friend that night, than either of them desired. But they dared not say so, for fear 282 ALDERMAN RALPH. of awaking suspicion in the mind of Sol Topple, little aware by Sol’s obtuse look that something more than suspicion had already taken possession of him. It was after midnight before Threap and his grand client could freely renew their guilty conference. ALDERMAN RALPH. 283 CHAPTER IX. Our Minstrel set free: the great Scholar delivers the Bridge Deed in form: the downfall of Plombline and Mr. Nicky. Dingyleaf* s marriage and exody from Willowacre. The good vicar of Willowacre united the hands of the great scholar of the four pronomina and Betty Brown the serving-maid, next morning, in the parish church. Mr. Ralph gave away the bride, and Margery Markpence was bridesmaid. Mr. Pomponius was present at the ceremony, by Mr. Ralph’s desire; and Jerry Dimple and Peter Weatherwake attended of their own accord, and through a wish to see the poor young woman thoroughly righted, as they said. The wedding breakfast was held at Mr. Pratewell’s ; Mr. Ralph graced it with his goodly presence ; and leaving the bridegroom till he should be sent for to the meeting of council, the senior alderman and town-clerk, so soon as the breakfast was over, hurried away to the magistrates’ meeting. The Bench was full, with the exception that the places of Plombline and Mr. Nicky were unoccupied; but the absence of those two personages caused no surprise, though it was deemed significant of what they expected would be the issue of our min- strels re-examination. Neither Threap nor Nykin Noddlepate reappeared. The den of Nykin, Mr. Barnabas said, was closed; and no one knew where the wooden-legged fiddler had gone. The two Irishmen who had been captured by Mr. Barnabas, declared that they had been suborned by Threap to ensnare Jack Jigg, with the nuts and gingerbread and other articles, and that the story of the robbery was false. With fresh tears and prayers and protestations, the other Irishman fell again on his knees, confessed that all he had 284 ALDERMAN RALPH. formerly sworn was false, and that what his acquaintances had now sworn was true. They were poor, and Threap had paid them for it ; and it was he and not they who ought to be blamed, the fellow said. “ But you shall have a sound whipping for doing Threap’s dirty work, if I have my will/’ declared the mayor Diggory. “ The man is punishable for perjury, I should think,” said Mark Siftall. “ He is not worth a prosecution, nor would I have him whip- ped,” said Alderman Balph ; “ let the punishment fall on the tempter. He will appear, sooner or later.” There was a strong inclination among other members of the Bench to indict the whipping; but Mr. Balph prevailed, and it was omitted. Yet the false swearer was informed that he must quit the borough immediately ; and, if he were found in it again, his back would be in danger. Accompanied by his two coun- trymen, he made haste to get out of Willowacre; but was heavily bespattered with mud, bestowed upon him by the crowd, before he could escape. Poor J ack was declared honourably acquitted ; and Mr. Balph, by request of the Bench, addressed him in a sympathising speech which drew tears from the sensitive nature of our minstrel, and a shout of applause from the audience in the hall. J ack’s friends and admirers insisted on tying ribands round his hat at the Guildhall door; and he was borne, amidst loud huzzas, on their shoulders to the door of his cottage, and thus restored to his happy wife and children. The full meeting of the corporation followed close on that of the magistrates. Every member of it was present; for Hugh and Nicky, who had been receiving their instructions from Sir Nigel Nickem, came to make their last stand for the great man’s interests. There was deep silence in the crowded hall, when Dingyleaf was introduced by the side-door, and, after a brief prefatory speech by Mr. Pomponius, delivered the Bridge Deed. Some imperfect knowledge of his attempted trickery, and of ALDERMAN RALPH. 285 the share which Threap had in it, had got abroad among the crowd ; and they listened anxiously for a full explanation. But when the great scholar, with much stammering, had, at the desire of the council, recited the provisions of the Deed, and shown, not only how the corporation had been robbed of their right by the Nickem family, but how the interest of that family in the Bridge tollage had expired twenty years ago — the audience burst into a shout, and felt so grateful to the discoverer of the parch- ment, that they began to say, one to another, such a man could not be a trickster. “ You had better speak first,” whispered Hugh Plombline to Nicky Backstitch, when the noise was subsiding. “ Nay, nay : you first,” said the quaking Nicky. And the astute Hugh rose, when the noise was nearly stilled ; and his rising stilled it completely. But there stood the astute Hugh, and uttered not a word. His tongue stuck to his palate. His eyes seemed fixed. His face looked like that of a dead per- son. The stillness continued ; but, at last, it was changed for a universal hiss, which was soon mingled with hootings. Hugh dropt into his seat ; and as he sat beside Nicky, the pair looked so miserable, that the crowd began to cry, “ Look at the pair of rogues ! ” “ Hang ’em for a couple of rascals ! ” — and then sent forth another storm of hootings and hisses. At the desire of Alderman Balph, the town-clerk now exerted himself to pro- cure silence ; and when, after long striving, he had succeeded, Mr. Balph, with his accustomed dignity, rose and said — “ Mr. Mayor, I must express my regret that my fellow-towns- men should so far forget themselves as to behave in this unseemly manner towards any one bearing an honourable office among them. I respectfully claim a hearing for Mr. Alderman Plomb- line”— “ Alderman me no longer!” exclaimed Hugh, starting up, and throwing off his white furred scarlet cloak; “ I’ll belong to such a set of dreaming fools no longer — nor will I ever enter your cursed Guildhall again!” and so saying, he dashed through the 286 ALDERMAN RALPH. door behind the mayor’s carved canopy, seized bis bat from tbe table in tbe inner-chamber, and hastened home as fast as be could walk. Tbe members of tbe corporation and tbe audience stared, and some of them agape — but all in silence, till they observed little Nicky wriggling also to get off his cloak, but unable to do so, and sinking back helplessly into his seat. Tbe amazement was now changed into loud laughter ; and the effect of derision on the timid nature of little Nicky was pitiable : he burst into weeping ! The laughter ceased; but still little Nicky sobbed and cried. Mr. Ralph could not bear this. He stepped to his fallen enemy, and, with heartfelt kindness, softly said — “ You are not well, Mr. Backstitch. Let me assist you into the inner room.” “ Nay, nay, Mr. Ralph,” answered the sobbing Nicky, refusing to be helped, “ I didn’t mean it. I wasn’t quite myself. I’m not to blame. I’m not, indeed. It’s all Plombline’s fault. It’s he that misled me.” “ I have nothing to do with that, sir,” said Mr. Ralph, dis- daining to hear more, and stepping into his own seat again. The uttering of a lie seemed to relieve Mr. Nicky. He ceased weeping and sobbing; and the business of the council went on. Mr. Pomponius announced to the meeting that the learned doc- tor made a present of his long, arduous, and most valuable ser- vices to the corporation and the borough of Willowacre: the learned doctor desired nothing by way of reward for his great labour in searching for the Heed. The crowd heard the announcement with silent astonishment; and Mr. Ralph stood up in a moment, and said — “ Hoes the doctor confirm the announcement just made by the town-clerk?” “ Yes, yes !” stammered Hingyleaf; " I make you a present of myself — that is, I mean — of the Heed — that is, of my labour in searching for it — I — I — I desire no — no money for it.” The old hall rung with shouts of applause for Hingyleaf — Mr. ALDERMAN RALPH. 287 Ralph stretched forth his right hand — the crowd were silent and attentive once more — Mr. Ralph proposed u the thanks of the borough and corporation of the borough of Willowacre for the doctor’s handsome and important services” — and the rafters again shook with the shouting, while the mayor, aldermen, common- councilmen, and town-clerk, rose and bowed to Dingyleaf. The great scholar fidgeted, bowed and ducked in return, and capered and rubbed his face with nervous delight. Mr. Ralph descended to the bar, and, taking Dingyleaf by the arm, led him into the inner chamber. Mr. Ralph would have made a wise and warning speech to Dingyleaf, but deferred it, when he heard that the carriage with “ Mrs. Dingyleaf” was at the Guildhall door, and he discerned how eager the learned bridegroom was to get away. And so, instead of making a speech, Mr. Ralph drew the scholar’s arm within his own, and led him down-stairs to the Guildhall door. Mr. Ralph’s good heart prompted him to demonstrate how fully he forgave Dingyleaf by showing these attentions ; but the scholar scarcely received so much honour outside the Guild- hall as he had received within it. Some shadow of a report of his marriage had reached the crowd ; and now they saw the “white favours” on the hats and at the breasts of the two postilions, and beheld Betty, with Margery Markpence at her side, in the carriage— but more especially when they beheld Betty’s condition — they understood the whole affair. Shouts of derision and laughter greeted Dingyleaf as he hurried into the chaise ; and the great scholar of the four pronomina, with his espoused Betty, were not a little relieved when they had passed through the toll- gate, and the mockery reached their ears no longer. 288 ALDERMAN RALPH. CHAPTER X. Which, being the Last, should not be described; since Nobody would have patience to read the Description of it. Poor Betty’s vanity had moved her to solicit her husband’s consent to the indecorous display with which they had quitted Willowacre; and she was aided therein by the weaker Margery. And, in spite of the derision which such display had drawn upon Betty and her husband, Margery thought it a fine thing to be drawn in a coach, and to be, married to a gentleman. She accompanied Betty over Dingyleaf’s house, and expressed unwearied admiration of all she saw; and when she set forth, on foot, to walk to Willowacre at night — having tarried till dark, contrary to the commands of Mr. Balph — Margery began to ponder in her foolish mind, how desirable it was to marry a gentleman who had plenty of money, rather than the son of a poor farmer. Pondering thus, and having walked a mile from Meadowbeck, Margery screamed as a man suddenly seized her slender arm, and then grasped her round the waist. “Hush, hush, my pretty little duck!” said Threap; “you know me well enough, and that I would not hurt you for the world.” Margery struggled; but she might as well have tried to shake off a polar bear, had she been in its gripe. Threap forced her over a gate into one of the fields, compelled her to cease crying or resistance, on pain of strangling; and then led her along the fields, but taking a bend, so as eventually to reach the Slowfiow at some distance from the bridge. The tempter ALDERMAN RALPH. 289 now essayed all liis power; and it was but too prevalent with the weak girl in the frame of mind with which she set out from the house of Mrs. Betty Dingyleaf. Threap assured her he had plenty of money, and made her grasp a purse of gold, which seemed to her inexperienced poverty to contain an indefinable store of wealth. He was her devoted admirer. He had lingered in the neighbourhood through the force of his inextinguishable passion for her. She must go with him, and be a lady. They would live at some distance from Willowacre and Meadowbeck; but he would send for her father and mother, and keep them in their old age. Had simple Margery heard all this in Mr. Ralph’s kitchen, she would have received it with scorn and incredulity ; but it was otherwise now. She could not break loose from Threap. She thought she must be fated to become his wife. And she represented to herself that what Threap had said was very pro- bable, and it would be better to take to him kindly, than to anger him now she was in his power. So Margery stepped unresistingly into the boat which Threap had taken care to secure — though he paid highly for it — at a certain point on the river; and when they arrived on the other side, and Threap had whispered to the boatman and given him money, she took the tempters arm, and walked quietly along, with a foolish longing to get into the coach Threap said they were to journey in ; and struggled to quell her sense of error and danger. They walked on, by paths unknown to her, until they emerged into a high-road; and very soon, by the side of a wood, there was a coach, in reality; it was Sir ISTigel Nickem’s carriage; but she did not know that; and Threap handed her in, and closed the door upon her, telling her he must return to a point in the road to order up some luggage, and would soon rejoin her. Threap disappeared, and Margery tried to get out; but one of the two men in charge of the carriage told her to sit still, and threatened her, if she attempted to open the carriage door, or to make any noise. VOL. II. u 290 ALDERMAN RALPH. The lawyer went back, and approached the town of Willow- acre. He halted at a certain spot; and in a few minutes was joined by the baronet. u Come along,” said the baronet ; u they are walking together under the elms, and we can knock him down and seize her easily.” “ That’s it ! ” answered Threap ; “ my bird’s safe in the coach ; and we’ll soon make it a brace of ’em. Glorious fun, this ! — but I’m leaving some of my business undone. I would have lost a couple of fingers willingly, if I could have finished that accursed fiddler before we had gone off. As for Markpence, why, he’s my girl’s father, and I don’t so much care about him; and old Dingyleaf is not worth powder and shot.” “ And yet I would rather you had finished him, if you had done any of this bloody business,” said the baronet ; “ but be content that you escape yourself. Depend upon it, Topple knew you; and I could see by his looks that he meant you no good.” “ I saw it clearly enough ; and that was why I told you I would get out of the way,” said Threap. “ Hush ! this is the elm-walk ! ” said the baronet, “ and here are your two men — they are to be depended upon, I hope?” “ Firm as oak ! ” answered Threap ; “ I know ’em of old ; and besides, I’ve tipped ’em the gold to a pretty figure — you must repay me that.” “ We’ll see about that, Threap — but let us prepare for business !” They approached the two men whom Threap had hired : old associates in his smuggling enterprises. “ Gone towards the town,” said one of the men to Threap ; “ but they’ll be back again. They have done it twice since we have been here.” “ Done what?” asked the baronet. “ Walked to the town and back. They’ll be back again to this end of the walk, I should say, in ten minutes. You’d better ALDERMAN RALPH. 291 go inside the hedge and wait. Just behind here. They shaVt escape us.” Sir Nigel and the lawyer retired behind the hedge ; and Threap, seizing his comrade’s arm, said in a whisper — “ What d’ye mean by saying you’ll see about it, baronet'? Ask these fellows what I’ve given ’em, and they’ll tell you twenty pounds. And they would not help for less. D’ye suppose I’m to lose that?” “ You are devilish fierce at bullying me out of money, Threap ; but I don’t mean to be bullied out of another farthing, nor to be wheedled out of one, either — till I know who is the purchaser of my estate.” “You don’t! Why, d — n you for a fool! when you get to know, you’ll be no better pleased.” “YvTiat d’ye mean, you scoundrel?” cried the baronet, half beside himself with rage, and seizing Threap by the throat. Sir Nigel Nickem lay prostrate on the sod the next moment ; and in a few more moments was a dead man. A bullet from Threap’s pistol had penetrated his brain. The murderer ran off, wild with delight — for the murderous propensity had been growing so hugely in him, that what he had now done gave him greater pleasure than any base scheme he could have perfected about Margery. The two men were not so greatly shocked at Threap’s act, as quiet dwellers in a town or village would have been. They had witnessed many a fierce and deadly scene in their lawless way of life. They knew Threap’s temper and strength, too; and therefore did not venture to run in search of him. Expect- ing to be met by Pevensey and some assistants — for though they had taken Threap’s money, they had warned Pevensey, and hastened him away to the town with May — they began to bear the corpse towards the borough. Pevensey had summoned such hasty help as he could — namely, his two men-servants and Jack Jigg, and had also secured the help of Mr. Barnabas and two of his assistants. Pevensey and his two men-servants were armed, 292 ALDERMAN RALPH. and so were tlie constables; bnt Jack refused to bear a pistol, though he assured Gilbert he was not afraid to venture his life. May was safe; but when Gilbert said that the men stated they believed one young woman was already placed in the carriage by Threap, Jack’s quick mind immediately sprang to the conclu- sion, that the lawyer had seized Margery on her way from Dingy- leaf’s, and had got her over the river by the help of one of the sailors who used to assist Threap in smuggling. Little Davy Drudge being at hand, Jack urged him to make all speed to Alderman Ralph’s, and inquire if she had arrived from Meadow- beck; and if she were not found at the alderman’s, to make all speed to the toll-house and alarm Margery’s father. Davy went and made the inquiry; but went no farther. He had never spoken one word to Gregory Markpence since the night that Gregory deceived him, and his father died; and the lad could not overcome his reluctance to go and speak to the toll-keeper. So Gregory remained in ignorance of his daughter’s peril. Pevensey was so greatly overcome at the sight of the corpse, that he went no further when they met it; but returned to Wil- lowacre with his two men-servants, who bore the body to the Red Lion Inn. The two men who had been relieved of their burthen, undertook to conduct Mr. Barnabas and his two assist- ants, with Jack Jigg, to the place near the wood where they understood the coach was to be, and to which they were, as the baronet expected, to have carried the captive May. The party hastened on with all the speed they could exert ; and long before they reached the coach heard Margery’s screams; and, when they came nearer, the commands of Threap to the coachmen to drive on, and his curses because they refused. Jack was by far the fleetest of foot, and was upon Threap before the villain was aware. Jack knocked him down as he stood cursing, with his hand on the carriage-door; and then seized Margery. But while J ack yet held the girl, Threap was up, directed his pistol and fired. The murderer missed Jack, and only split the coach -pannel. Just then, as Threap had ALDERMAN RALPH. 293 seized liis other pistol, Mr. Barnabas bounded forward, and fired at him. But Mr. Barnabas missed his aim, and Threap seeing two other men about to fire, ducked under the bellies of the horses, burst through a hedge-gap of the wood, and again ran off. Mr. Barnabas and his men gave chase; while Jack replaced Margery in the carriage, and desired Sir Nigel’s men to drive back to the Bed Lion, where they would find their master a corpse. Mr. Barnabas and his men kept on Threap’s track, though they feared they had sometimes lost it. Threap’s animal energy was vast; but it was now becoming worn. He doubled, and made for a last point, in his insanity — for such it had now become. Emerging from the open country, near the Slowflow, he darted into a lane at the river-end of the borough, which led up to the toll-gate. Mr. Barnabas and assistants were now panting hard; but they were nearing him. Threap reached the toll-gate — knocked, and then kicked — for the pursuers were not many yards after him. Gregory Markpence opened — Threap knocked him down by a fell stroke with one of his pistols on the skull — and immediately fell with a heavy groan, himself. The pursuers beheld Threap’s last fierce deed, and his fall. They raised him ; but after a convulsive struggle, he expired, slain by his own passions. Sir Nigel Nickem — the last of the name — but not of the race, was buried in the churchyard of Willowacre. A distant relative succeeded to such a mere fragment of his property as could be gained from mortgagees, Jew-brokers, and other claim- ants. The corporation of Willowacre were never called on to produce the Bridge Deed; but took possession of the structure as their own: the heir of Sir Nigel being advised not to waste his scanty receipts from the general wind-up, in contesting the 294 ALDERMAN RALPH. corporation’s claim to sole property in the bridge. It was pulled down; and a handsome new bridge erected, and made toll-free, soon after the marriage of Gilbert and sweet May, which occurred a few months after the burial of Sir Nigel Nickem. A year after Alice became the wife of Edgar Tichborne. Gilbert was chosen into the corporation in the room of Hugh Plombline ; and the like honour was conferred on Edgar the year after, when Nicky Backstitch became insolvent, and also gave up Iris corporate office. Mrs. Betty Dingyleaf was a better wife than her husband deserved. They had several children ; and she took care that, wdiile the new Dingyleaves were decently educated, they should not imbibe their father’s unwarrantable notions. The new Dingyleaves do not complain that society does nothing for them: they do something for society — for Dingyleaves are not necessarily a useless race — and thereby do something for them- selves. Young Jonathan, in course of time, took to wife Margery Markpence; but, if he had not been so devotedly fond of her, would have been more quick-sighted to her incurable coquetry, and would consequently have been rendered miserable by it. Gregory Markpence, after considerable illness, recovered from Threap’s blow; and, after the death of Jonathan’s father, went to live at the farm with his son-in-law : but Gregory was crabbed and crooked to the last day of his life. Jack Jigg was promoted by Gilbert Pevensey until he became his chief man of trust. J ack grew into increased respect among his fellow-townsmen. Little Davy, in after-time, married J ack’s eldest daughter; and there is now a new generation of Drudges — a very ancient family, and one destined to be represented in far posterity. Noble Alderman Balph subscribed to all improvements after the deliverance of Willowacre from the Nickem oppression; saw with delight the new generation of Pevenseys and Tichbornes; met his friends to the close of life, at the dear old Wheat Sheaf ; ALDERMAN RALPH. 295 his head, in his peaceful dying-hour, was supported by sweet May : and the entire borough mourned his departure. Willowacre was not put into Schedule A, at the passing of the “Reform Bill” of 1832. It has yet its Member of Parlia- ment; and his colour is always the “old true blue;” for no candidate, whatever his political principles may be, is ever returned who dares to adopt another colour. The new genera- tions of the Pevenseys, Tichbornes, Cleave wells, Siftalls, Prate- wells, Poundsmalls, and so forth, have greatly improved the borough; but no railway reaches it as yet. Its people may thus be pitied that they are laggards in the march of intellect ; but, on the other hand, they congratulate themselves that they pre- serve their limbs and their lives from the destruction on the rail which they hear of with horror; and that they are still dwellers in the time-honoured and old-fashioned borough of Willowacre. THE END. M c CORQUODALE AND CO., PRINTERS, LONDON — WORKS, NEWTON. * 3 0112 041689636 k ' ] ms S' : \mlj\M BBS \ • If ' m wEBi l\® ± L_ nr