CHAPTER VII.
MR. DINGWELL MAKES HIMSELF COMFORTABLE.
"AH!--_ho!_ you are Miss Rumble--hey?" said the old gentleman, fixing ascrutinising glance from under his white eyebrows upon Sally Rumble, whostood in the doorway, in wonder, not unmixed with alarm; for people whostand every hour in presence of Giant Want, with his sword at theirthroats, have lost their faith in fortune, and long ceased to expect abenevolent fairy in any stranger who may present himself dubiously, andanticipate rather an enemy. So, looking hard at the gentleman who stoodbefore the little fire, with his hat on, and the light of the solitarydipt candle shining on his by no means pleasant countenance, she madehim a little frightened courtesy, and acknowledged that she was SallyRumble, though she could not tell what was to follow.
"I've been waiting; I came here to see you--pray, shut the door--fromtwo gentlemen, Jews whom you know--_friends_--don't be uneasy--friendsof _mine_, friends of _yours_--Mr. Goldshed and Mr. Levi, the kindest,sweetest, sharpest fellows alive, and here's a note from them--you can_read_?"
"Read! Law bless you--yes, sir," answered Sally.
"Thanks for the blessing: read the note; it's only to tell you I'm theperson they mentioned this morning, Mr. Dingwell. Are the rooms ready?You can make me comfortable--eh?"
"In a humble way, sir," she answered, with a courtesy.
"Yes, of course; I'm a humble fellow, and--I hear you're a sensibleyoung lady. These little pitchers here, of course, have ears: I'll sayall that's necessary as we go up: there's a fellow with a cab at thedoor, isn't there? Well, there's some little luggage of mine on it--wemust get it up stairs; give the Hamal something to lend a hand; butfirst let me see my rooms."
"Yes, sir," said Sally, with another courtesy, not knowing what a Hamalmeant. And Mr. Dingwell, taking up his bag and stick, followed her insilence, as with the dusky candle she led the way up the stairs.
She lighted a pair of candles in the drawing-room. There was some firein the grate. The rooms looked better than he had expected; there werecurtains, and an old Turkish carpet, and some shabby, and some handsome,pieces of furniture.
"It will do, it will do--ha, ha, ha! How like a pawnbroker's store itlooks--no two things match in it; but it is not bad: those Jew fellows,of course, did it? All this stuff isn't yours?" said Mr. Dingwell.
"Law bless you, no, sir," answered Sally, with a dismal smile and ashake of her head.
"Thanks again for your blessing. And the bed-room?" inquired he.
She pushed open the door.
"Capital looking-glass," said he, standing before hisdressing-table--"cap-i-tal! if it weren't for that great seam across themiddle--ha, ha, ha! funny effect, by Jove! Is it colder than usual,here?"
"No, sir, please; a nice evening."
"Devilish nice, by Allah! I'm cold through and through my great coat.Will you please poke up that fire a little? Hey! what a grand bed we'vegot! what tassels and ropes! and, by Jove, carved angels or _Cupids_--Ihope Cupids--on the foot-board!" he said, running the tip of his canealong the profile of one of them. "They must have got this a wonderfulbargain. Hey! I hope no one died in it last week?"
"Oh, la! sir; Mr. Levi is a very pitickler gentleman; he wouldn't forall he's worth."
"Oh! not he, I know; very particular."
Mr. Dingwell was holding the piece of damask curtain between his fingerand thumb, and she fancied was sniffing at it gently.
"Very particular, but I'm more so. We, English, are the dirtiest dogs inthe world. They ought to get the Turks to teach 'em to wash and beclean. I travelled in the East once, for a commercial house, and knowsomething of them. Can you make coffee?"
"Yes, sir, please."
"Very strong?"
"Yes, sir, sure."
"_Very_, mind. As strong as the devil it must be, and as clear as--asyour conscience." He was getting out a tin case, as he spoke. "Here itis. I got it in--I forget the name--a great place, near one of yourbridges. I suppose it's as good as any to be had in this place. Ofcourse it isn't _all_ coffee. We must go to the _heathen_ for that; butif they haven't ground up toasted skeletons, or anything dirty in it,I'm content. I'm told you can't eat or drink a mouthful here withoutswallowing something you never bargained for. Everything is drugged.Look at our Caiquejees! You have no such men in your paddedHorse-guards. And what do they live on? Why, a crust of brown bread anda melon, and now and then a dish of pilauf! But it's good--it'spure--it's what it calls itself. You d----d Christian cheats, you're anopprobrium to commerce and civilisation; you're the greatest oafs onearth, with all your police and spies. Why it's only to _will_ it, andyou _don't_; you let it go on. We are assuredly a beastly people!"
"Sugar, please, sir?"
"No, thank you."
"Take milk, sir?"
"Heaven forbid! Milk, indeed! I tell you what, Mrs.--What's yourname?--I tell you, if the Sultan had some of your great fellows--yourgrocers, and bakers, and dairymen, and brewers, egad!--out there, he'dhave 'em on their ugly faces and bastinado their great feet into custardpudding! I've seen fellows--and devilish glad I _was_ to see it, I cantell you--screaming like stuck pigs, and their eyes starting out oftheir heads, and their feet like bags of black currant jelly, ha, ha,ha!--for a good deal less. Now, you see, ma'am, I have high notions ofhonesty; and this tin case I'm going to give you will give me threesmall cups of coffee, as strong as I've described, six times over; doyou understand?--six times three, eighteen; _eighteen_ small cups ofcoffee; and don't let those pretty little foxes' cubs down stairsmeddle with it. Tell 'em I know what I'm about, and they'd better not,ha, ha, ha! nor with anything that belongs to me, to the value of asingle piastre."
Miss Sarah Rumble was a good deal dismayed by the jubilant severity ofMr. Dingwell's morals. She would have been glad had he been of a lesssharp and cruel turn of pleasantry. Her heart was heavy, and she wishedherself a happy deliverance, and had a vague alarm about the poor littlechildren's falling under suspicion, and of all that might follow. Butwhat could she do? Poverty is so powerless, and has so little time toweigh matters maturely, or to prepare for any change; its hands arealways so full, and its stomach so empty, and its spirits so dull.
"I wish those d----d curtains were off the bed," and again theyunderwent the same disgusting process; "and the bed-clothes, egad! Theypurify nothing here. You know _nothing_ about _them_ either, of course?No--but they would not like to kill me. _No_;--that would not do. Knocktheir little game on the head, eh? I suppose it _is_ all right. What'sprevalent here now? What sort of--I mean what sort of _death_--fever,small-pox, or scarlatina--eh? Much sickness going?"
"Nothink a'most, sir; a little measles among the children."
"No objection to that; it heads them down a bit, and does not troubleus. But what among the _grown_ people?"
"Nothink to signify in the court here, for three months a'most."
"And _then_, ma'am, what _was_ it, pray? Give those to your boy" (theywere his boots); "let him rub 'em up, ma'am, he's not a bit too young tobegin; and, egad! he had better do 'em _well_, too;" and thrusting hisfeet into a great pair of slippers, he reverted to his question--"Whatsickness was _then_, ma'am, three months ago, here in this pleasantlittle prison-yard of a place--hey?"
"Fever, please, sir, at No. 4. Three took it, please: two of 'em went tohospital."
"And never walked out?"
"Don't know, indeed, sir--and one died, please, sir, in the court here,and he left three little children."
"I hope they're gone away?"
"Yes, sir, please."
"Well, that's a release. Rest his soul, he's dead! as our immortal bard,that says everything so much better than anyone else, says; and rest oursouls, _they're_ gone with their vile noise. So your bill of mortalityis not much to signify; and make that coffee--d'ye see?--this moment,and let me have it as hot as--as the final abode of Dissenters andCatholics--I see you believe in the Church Catechism--immediately, ifyou please, to the next room."
So, with a courtesy, Sally Rumble tripped from th
e room, with thecoffee-case in her hand.
The Tenants of Malory, Volume 2 Page 7
