Auriol; or, The Elixir of Life

by William Harrison Ainsworth

  CHAPTER III

  THE HAND AND THE CLOAK

  A furious barking from Mr. Ginger's dogs, shortly after the departure ofthe drowsy youth, announced the approach of a grotesque-looking littlepersonage, whose shoulders barely reached to a level with the top of thetable. This was Old Parr. The dwarfs head was much too large for hisbody, as is mostly the case with undersized persons, and was coveredwith a forest of rusty black hair, protected by a strangely shapedseal-skin cap. His hands and feet were equally disproportioned to hisframe, and his arms were so long that he could touch his ankles whilestanding upright. His spine was crookened, and his head appeared buriedin his breast. The general character of his face seemed to appertain tothe middle period of life; but a closer inspection enabled the beholderto detect in it marks of extreme old age. The nose was broad and flat,like that of an ourang-outang; the resemblance to which animal washeightened by a very long upper lip, projecting jaws, almost totalabsence of chin, and a retreating forehead. The little old man'scomplexion was dull and swarthy, but his eyes were keen and sparkling.

  His attire was as singular as his person. Having recently served asdouble to a famous demon-dwarf at the Surrey Theatre, he had becomepossessed of a cast-off pair of tawny tights, an elastic shirt of thesame material and complexion, to the arms of which little green bat-likewings were attached, while a blood-red tunic with vandyke points wasgirded round his waist. In this strange apparel his diminutive limbswere encased, while additional warmth was afforded by the greatcoatalready mentioned, the tails of which swept the floor after him like atrain.

  Having silenced his dogs with some difficulty, Mr. Ginger burst into aroar of laughter, excited by the little old man's grotesque appearance,in which he was joined by the Tinker; but the Sandman never relaxed amuscle of his sullen countenance.

  Their hilarity, however, was suddenly checked by an inquiry from thedwarf, in a shrill, odd tone, "Whether they had sent for him only tolaugh at him?"

  "Sartainly not, deputy," replied the Tinker. "Here, lazy-bones, glasseso' rum-an'-vater, all round."

  The drowsy youth bestirred himself to execute the command. The spiritwas brought; water was procured from the boiling copper; and the Tinkerhanded his guest a smoking rummer, accompanied with a polite request tomake himself comfortable.

  Opposite the table at which the party were seated, it has been said, wasa staircase--old and crazy, and but imperfectly protected by a brokenhand-rail. Midway up it stood a door equally dilapidated, but secured bya chain and lock, of which Old Parr, as deputy-chamberlain, kept thekey. Beyond this point the staircase branched off on the right, and arow of stout wooden banisters, ranged like the feet of so many cattle,was visible from beneath. Ultimately, the staircase reached a smallgallery, if such a name can be applied to a narrow passage communicatingwith the bedrooms, the doors of which, as a matter of needfulprecaution, were locked outside; and as the windows were grated, no onecould leave his chamber without the knowledge of the landlord or hisrepresentative. No lights were allowed in the bedrooms, nor in thepassage adjoining them.

  Conciliated by the Tinker's offering, Old Parr mounted the staircase,and planting himself near the door, took off his greatcoat, and sat downupon it. His impish garb being thus more fully displayed, he looked sounearthly and extraordinary that the dogs began to howl fearfully, andGinger had enough to do to quiet them.

  Silence being at length restored, the Tinker, winking slyly at hiscompanions, opened the conversation.

  "I say, deputy," he observed, "ve've bin havin' a bit o' a dispute vichyou can settle for us."

  "Well, let's see," squeaked the dwarf. "What is it?"

  "Vy, it's relative to your age," rejoined the Tinker. "Ven wos youborn?"

  "It's so long ago, I can't recollect," returned Old Parr rather sulkily.

  "You must ha' seen some changes in your time?" resumed the Tinker,waiting till the little old man had made some progress with his grog.

  "I rayther think I have--a few," replied Old Parr, whose tongue thegenerous liquid had loosened. "I've seen this great city of Londonpulled down, and built up again--if that's anything. I've seen it grow,and grow, till it has reached its present size. You'll scarcely believeme, when I tell you, that I recollect this Rookery of ours--this foulvagabond neighbourhood--an open country field, with hedges round it, andtrees. And a lovely spot it was. Broad Saint Giles's, at the time Ispeak of, was a little country village, consisting of a few stragglinghouses standing by the roadside, and there wasn't a single habitationbetween it and Convent Garden (for so the present market was oncecalled); while that garden, which was fenced round with pales, like apark, extended from Saint Martin's Lane to Drury House, a great mansionsituated on the easterly side of Drury Lane, amid a grove of beautifultimber."

  "My eyes!" cried Ginger, with a prolonged whistle; "the place must bepreciously transmogrified indeed!"

  "If I were to describe the changes that have taken place in London sinceI've known it, I might go on talking for a month," pursued Old Parr."The whole aspect of the place is altered. The Thames itself is unlikethe Thames of old. Its waters were once as clear and bright above LondonBridge as they are now at Kew or Richmond; and its banks, fromWhitefriars to Scotland Yard, were edged with gardens. And then thethousand gay wherries and gilded barges that covered its bosom--all aregone--all are gone!"

  "Those must ha' been nice times for the jolly young vatermen vich atBlack friars wos used for to ply," chanted the Tinker; "but the steamershas put their noses out o' joint."

  "True," replied Old Parr; "and I, for one, am sorry for it. Remembering,as I do, what the river used to be when enlightened by gay craft andmerry company, I can't help wishing its waters less muddy, and thoseugly coal-barges, lighters, and steamers away. London is a mighty city,wonderful to behold and examine, inexhaustible in its wealth and power;but in point of beauty it is not to be compared with the city of QueenBess's days. You should have seen the Strand then--a line of noblemen'shouses--and as to Lombard Street and Gracechurch Street, with theirwealthy goldsmiths' shops--but I don't like to think of 'em."

  "Vell, I'm content vith Lunnun as it is," replied the Tinker,"'specially as there ain't much chance o' the ould city bein' rewived."

  "Not much," replied the dwarf, finishing his glass, which wasreplenished at a sign from the Tinker.

  "I s'pose, my wenerable, you've seen the king as bequeathed his name tothese pretty creaters," said Ginger, raising his coat-pockets, so as toexhibit the heads of the two little black-and-tan spaniels.

  "What! old Rowley?" cried the dwarf--"often. I was page to his favouritemistress, the Duchess of Cleveland, and I have seen him a hundred timeswith a pack of dogs of that description at his heels."

  "Old Rowley wos a king arter my own 'art," said Ginger, rising andlighting a pipe at the fire. "He loved the femi-_nine_ specious as wellas the ca-_nine_ specious. Can you tell us anythin' more about him?"

  "Not now," replied Old Parr. "I've seen so much, and heard so much, thatmy brain is quite addled. My memory sometimes deserts me altogether,and my past life appears like a dream. Imagine what my feelings must be,to walk through streets, still called by the old names, but in otherrespects wholly changed. Oh! if you could but have a glimpse of OldLondon, you would not be able to endure the modern city. The veryatmosphere was different from that which we now breathe, charged withthe smoke of myriads of sea-coal fires; and the old picturesque houseshad a charm about them, which the present habitations, howevercommodious, altogether want."

  "You talk like one o' them smart chaps they calls, and werry properly,penny-a-liars," observed Ginger. "But you make me long to ha' lived i'those times."

  "If you _had_ lived in them, you would have belonged to Paris Garden, orthe bull-baiting and bear-baiting houses in Southwark," replied OldParr. "I've seen fellows just like you at each of those places. Strange,though times and fashions change, men continue the same. I often meet aface that I can remember in James the First's time. But the old placesare gone--clean gone!"<
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  "Accordin' to your own showin', my wenerable friend, you must ha' liveduppards o' two hundred and seventy year," said Ginger, assuming aconsequential manner. "Now, doorin' all that time, have you never feltinclined to kick the bucket?"

  "Not the least," replied Old Parr. "My bodily health has been excellent.But, as I have just said, my intellects are a little impaired."

  "Not a little, I should think," replied Ginger, hemming significantly."I don't know vether you're a deceivin' of us or yourself, my wenerable;but von thing's quite clear--you _can't_ have lived all that time. It'snot in nater."

  "Very well, then--I haven't," said Old Parr.

  And he finished his rum-and-water, and set down the glass, which wasinstantly filled again by the drowsy youth.

  "You've seen some picters o' Old Lunnon, and they've haanted you in yourdreams, till you've begun to fancy you lived in those times," saidGinger.

  "Very likely," replied Old Parr--"very likely."

  There was something, however, in his manner calculated to pique thedog-fancier's curiosity.

  "How comes it," he said, stretching out his legs, and arranging hisneckcloth,--"how comes it, if you've lived so long, that you ain'thigher up in the stirrups--better off, as folks say?"

  The dwarf made no reply, but covering his face with his hands, seemed aprey to deep emotion. After a few moments' pause, Ginger repeated thequestion.

  "If you won't believe what I tell you, it's useless to give an answer,"said Old Parr, somewhat gruffly.

  "Oh yes, _I_ believe you, deputy," observed the Tinker, "and so does theSandman."

  "Well, then," replied the dwarf, "I'll tell you how it comes to pass.Fate has been against me. I've had plenty of chances, but I never couldget on. I've been in a hundred different walks of life, but they alwaysled down hill. It's my destiny."

  "That's hard," rejoined the Tinker--"werry hard. But how d'ye accountfor livin' so long?" he added, winking as he spoke to the others.

  "I've already given you an explanation," replied the dwarf.

  "Av, but it's a cur'ous story, and I vants my friends to hear it," saidthe Tinker, in a coaxing tone.

  "Well then, to oblige you, I'll go through it again," rejoined thedwarf. "You must know I was for some time servant to Doctor Lamb, an oldalchemist, who lived during the reign of good Queen Bess, and who usedto pass all his time in trying to find out the secret of changing leadand copper into gold."

  "I've known several indiwiduals as has found out that secret,wenerable," observed Ginger. "And ve calls 'em smashers, nowadays--nothalchemists."

  "Doctor Lamb's object was actually to turn base metal into gold,"rejoined Old Parr, in a tone of slight contempt. "But his chief aim wasto produce the elixir of long life. Night and day he worked at theoperation;--night and day I laboured with him, until at last we wereboth brought to the verge of the grave in our search after immortality.One night--I remember it well,--it was the last night of the sixteenthcentury,--a young man, severely wounded, was brought to my master'sdwelling on London Bridge. I helped to convey him to the laboratory,where I left him with the doctor, who was busy with his experiments. Mycuriosity being aroused, I listened at the door, and though I could notdistinguish much that passed inside, I heard sufficient to convince methat Doctor Lamb had made the grand discovery, and succeeded indistilling the elixir. Having learnt this, I went down-stairs,wondering what would next ensue. Half-an-hour elapsed, and while thebells were ringing in the new year joyfully, the young man whom I hadassisted to carry up-stairs, and whom I supposed at death's door,marched down as firmly as if nothing had happened, passed by me, anddisappeared, before I could shake off my astonishment. I saw at once hehad drunk the elixir."

  "Ah!--ah!" exclaimed the Tinker, with a knowing glance at hiscompanions, who returned it with gestures of equal significance.

  "As soon as he was gone," pursued the dwarf, "I flew to the laboratory,and there, extended on the floor, I found the dead body of Doctor Lamb.I debated with myself what to do--whether to pursue his murderer, forsuch I accounted the young man; but, on reflection, I thought the courseuseless. I next looked round to see whether the precious elixir wasgone. On the table stood a phial, from which a strong spirituous odourexhaled; but it was empty. I then turned my attention to a receiver,connected by a worm with an alembic on the furnace. On examining it, Ifound it contained a small quantity of a bright transparent liquid,which, poured forth into a glass, emitted precisely the same odour asthe phial. Persuaded this must be the draught of immortality, I raisedit to my lips; but apprehension lest it might be poison stayed my hand.Reassured, however, by the thought of the young man's miraculousrecovery, I quaffed the potion. It was as if I had swallowed fire, andat first I thought all was over with me. I shrieked out; but there wasno one to heed my cries, unless it were my dead master, and two orthree skeletons with which the walls were garnished. And these, intruth, did seem to hear me; for the dead corpse opened its glassy orbs,and eyed me reproachfully; the skeletons shook their fleshless arms andgibbered; and the various strange objects, with which the chamber wasfilled, seemed to deride and menace me. The terror occasioned by thesefantasies, combined with the potency of the draught, took away mysenses. When I recovered, I found all tranquil. Doctor Lamb was lyingstark and stiff at my feet, with an expression of reproach on his fixedcountenance; and the skeletons were hanging quietly in their places.Convinced that I was proof against death, I went forth. _But a cursewent with me!_ From that day to this I have lived, but it has been insuch poverty and distress, that I had better far have died. Besides, Iam constantly haunted by visions of my old master. He seems to holdconverse with me--to lead me into strange places."

  "Exactly the case with the t'other," whispered the Tinker to theSandman. "Have you ever, in the coorse o' your long life, met the youngman as drank the 'lixir?" he inquired of the dwarf.

  "Never."

  "Do you happen to rekilect his name?"

  "No; it has quite escaped my memory," answered Old Parr.

  "Should you rekilect it, if you heerd it?" asked the Tinker.

  "Perhaps I might," returned the dwarf; "but I can't say."

  "Wos it Auriol Darcy?" demanded the other.

  "That _was_ the name," cried Old Parr, starting up in extreme surprise."I heard Doctor Lamb call him so. But how, in the name of wonder, do youcome to know it?"

  "Ve've got summat, at last," said the Tinker, with a self-applaudingglance at his friends.

  "How do you come to know it, I say?" repeated the dwarf, in extremeagitation.

  "Never mind," rejoined the Tinker, with a cunning look; "you see I doesknow some cur'ous matters as veil as you, my old file. Yo'll be goodevidence, in case ve vishes to prove the fact agin him."

  "Prove what?--and against whom?" cried the dwarf.

  "One more questin, and I've done," pursued the Tinker. "Should you knowthis young man agin, in case you chanced to come across him?"

  "No doubt of it," replied Old Parr; "his figure often flits before me indreams."

  "Shall ve let him into it?" said the Tinker, consulting his companionsin a low tone.

  "Ay--ay," replied the Sandman.

  "Better vait a bit," remarked Ginger, shaking his head dubiously."There's no hurry."

  "No; ve must decide at vonce," said the Tinker. "Jist examine thempapers," he added, handing the pocket-book to Old Parr, "and favour usvith your opinion on 'em."

  The dwarf was about to unclasp the book committed to his charge, when ahand was suddenly thrust through the banisters of the upper part of thestaircase, which, as has been already stated, was divided from thelower by the door. A piece of heavy black drapery next descended like acloud, concealing all behind it except the hand, with which the dwarfwas suddenly seized by the nape of the neck, lifted up in the air, and,notwithstanding his shrieks and struggles, carried clean off.

  Great confusion attended his disappearance. The dogs set up a prodigiousbarking, and flew to the rescue--one of the largest of them passing overthe body of t
he drowsy waiter, who had sought his customary couch uponthe coals, and rousing him from his slumbers; while the Tinker, utteringa fierce imprecation, upset his chair in his haste to catch hold of thedwarf's legs; but the latter was already out of reach, and the nextmoment had vanished entirely.

  "My eyes! here's a pretty go!" cried Ginger, who, with his back to thefire, had witnessed the occurrence in open-mouthed astonishment. "Vy,curse it! if the wenerable ain't a-taken the pocket-book with him! It'smy opinion the devil has flown avay with the old feller. His time wosnearer at 'and than he expected."

  "Devil or not, I'll have him back agin, or at all events thepocket-book!" cried the Tinker. And, dashing up the stairs, he caughthold of the railing above, and swinging himself up by a powerful effort,passed through an opening, occasioned by the removal of one of thebanisters.

  The Hand and the Cloak.]

  Groping along the gallery, which was buried in profound darkness, heshouted to the dwarf, but received no answer to his vociferations;neither could he discover any one, though he felt on either side of thepassage with outstretched hands. The occupants of the differentchambers, alarmed by the noise, called out to know what was goingforward; but being locked in their rooms, they could render noassistance.

  While the Tinker was thus pursuing his search in the dark, venting hisrage and disappointment in the most dreadful imprecations, the staircasedoor was opened by the landlord, who had found the key in the greatcoatleft behind by the dwarf. With the landlord came the Sandman and Ginger,the latter of whom was attended by all his dogs, still barkingfuriously; while the rear of the party was brought up by the drowsywaiter, now wide awake with fright, and carrying a candle.

  But though every nook and corner of the place was visited--though theattics were searched, and all the windows examined--not a trace of thedwarf could be discovered, nor any clue to his mysterious disappearancedetected. Astonishment and alarm sat on every countenance.

  "What the devil can have become of him?" cried the landlord, with a lookof dismay.

  "Ay, that's the questin!" rejoined the Tinker. "I begin to be ofGinger's opinion, that the devil himself must have flown avay vith him.No von else could ha' taken a fancy to him."

  "I only saw a hand and a black cloak," said the Sandman.

  "I thought I seed a pair o' hoofs," cried the waiter; "and I'm quitesure I seed a pair o' great glitterin' eyes," he added, opening his ownlacklustre orbs to their widest extent.

  "It's a strange affair," observed the landlord gravely. "It's certainthat no one has entered the house wearing a cloak such as you describe;nor could any of the lodgers, to my knowledge, get out of their rooms.It was Old Parr's business, as you know, to lock 'em up carefully forthe night."

  "Vell, all's over vith him now," said the Tinker; "and vith our affair,too, I'm afeerd."

  "Don't say die jist yet," rejoined Ginger. "The wenerable's gone, to besure; and the only thing he has left behind him, barrin' his topcoat, isthis here bit o' paper vich dropped out o' the pocket-book as he wosa-takin' flight, and vich I picked from the floor. It may be o' some useto us. But come, let's go down-stairs. There's no good in stayin' hereany longer."

  Concurring in which sentiment, they all descended to the lower room.