Chapter 28
Repairing to a noted coffee-house in Covent Garden when he left thelocksmith's, Mr Chester sat long over a late dinner, entertaininghimself exceedingly with the whimsical recollection of his recentproceedings, and congratulating himself very much on his greatcleverness. Influenced by these thoughts, his face wore an expressionso benign and tranquil, that the waiter in immediate attendance upon himfelt he could almost have died in his defence, and settled in his ownmind (until the receipt of the bill, and a very small fee for very greattrouble disabused it of the idea) that such an apostolic customer wasworth half-a-dozen of the ordinary run of visitors, at least.
A visit to the gaming-table--not as a heated, anxious venturer, butone whom it was quite a treat to see staking his two or three pieces indeference to the follies of society, and smiling with equal benevolenceon winners and losers--made it late before he reached home. It was hiscustom to bid his servant go to bed at his own time unless he had ordersto the contrary, and to leave a candle on the common stair. There was alamp on the landing by which he could always light it when he came homelate, and having a key of the door about him he could enter and go tobed at his pleasure.
He opened the glass of the dull lamp, whose wick, burnt up and swollenlike a drunkard's nose, came flying off in little carbuncles at thecandle's touch, and scattering hot sparks about, rendered it matterof some difficulty to kindle the lazy taper; when a noise, as of a mansnoring deeply some steps higher up, caused him to pause and listen.It was the heavy breathing of a sleeper, close at hand. Some fellowhad lain down on the open staircase, and was slumbering soundly.Having lighted the candle at length and opened his own door, he softlyascended, holding the taper high above his head, and peering cautiouslyabout; curious to see what kind of man had chosen so comfortless ashelter for his lodging.
With his head upon the landing and his great limbs flung overhalf-a-dozen stairs, as carelessly as though he were a dead manwhom drunken bearers had thrown down by chance, there lay Hugh, faceuppermost, his long hair drooping like some wild weed upon his woodenpillow, and his huge chest heaving with the sounds which so unwontedlydisturbed the place and hour.
He who came upon him so unexpectedly was about to break his rest bythrusting him with his foot, when, glancing at his upturned face, hearrested himself in the very action, and stooping down and shading thecandle with his hand, examined his features closely. Close as his firstinspection was, it did not suffice, for he passed the light, stillcarefully shaded as before, across and across his face, and yet observedhim with a searching eye.
While he was thus engaged, the sleeper, without any starting or turninground, awoke. There was a kind of fascination in meeting his steady gazeso suddenly, which took from the other the presence of mind to withdrawhis eyes, and forced him, as it were, to meet his look. So they remainedstaring at each other, until Mr Chester at last broke silence, and askedhim in a low voice, why he lay sleeping there.
'I thought,' said Hugh, struggling into a sitting posture and gazing athim intently, still, 'that you were a part of my dream. It was a curiousone. I hope it may never come true, master.'
'What makes you shiver?'
'The--the cold, I suppose,' he growled, as he shook himself and rose. 'Ihardly know where I am yet.'
'Do you know me?' said Mr Chester.
'Ay, I know you,' he answered. 'I was dreaming of you--we're not where Ithought we were. That's a comfort.'
He looked round him as he spoke, and in particular looked above hishead, as though he half expected to be standing under some objectwhich had had existence in his dream. Then he rubbed his eyes and shookhimself again, and followed his conductor into his own rooms.
Mr Chester lighted the candles which stood upon his dressing-table, andwheeling an easy-chair towards the fire, which was yet burning, stirredup a cheerful blaze, sat down before it, and bade his uncouth visitor'Come here,' and draw his boots off.
'You have been drinking again, my fine fellow,' he said, as Hugh wentdown on one knee, and did as he was told.
'As I'm alive, master, I've walked the twelve long miles, and waitedhere I don't know how long, and had no drink between my lips sincedinner-time at noon.'
'And can you do nothing better, my pleasant friend, than fall asleep,and shake the very building with your snores?' said Mr Chester. 'Can'tyou dream in your straw at home, dull dog as you are, that you need comehere to do it?--Reach me those slippers, and tread softly.'
Hugh obeyed in silence.
'And harkee, my dear young gentleman,' said Mr Chester, as he put themon, 'the next time you dream, don't let it be of me, but of some dog orhorse with whom you are better acquainted. Fill the glass once--you'llfind it and the bottle in the same place--and empty it to keep yourselfawake.'
Hugh obeyed again even more zealously--and having done so, presentedhimself before his patron.
'Now,' said Mr Chester, 'what do you want with me?'
'There was news to-day,' returned Hugh. 'Your son was at our house--camedown on horseback. He tried to see the young woman, but couldn't getsight of her. He left some letter or some message which our Joe hadcharge of, but he and the old one quarrelled about it when your son hadgone, and the old one wouldn't let it be delivered. He says (that's theold one does) that none of his people shall interfere and get him intotrouble. He's a landlord, he says, and lives on everybody's custom.'
'He's a jewel,' smiled Mr Chester, 'and the better for being a dullone.--Well?'
'Varden's daughter--that's the girl I kissed--'
'--and stole the bracelet from upon the king's highway,' said MrChester, composedly. 'Yes; what of her?'
'She wrote a note at our house to the young woman, saying she lost theletter I brought to you, and you burnt. Our Joe was to carry it, butthe old one kept him at home all next day, on purpose that he shouldn't.Next morning he gave it to me to take; and here it is.'
'You didn't deliver it then, my good friend?' said Mr Chester, twirlingDolly's note between his finger and thumb, and feigning to be surprised.
'I supposed you'd want to have it,' retorted Hugh. 'Burn one, burn all,I thought.'
'My devil-may-care acquaintance,' said Mr Chester--'really if you do notdraw some nicer distinctions, your career will be cut short with mostsurprising suddenness. Don't you know that the letter you brought tome, was directed to my son who resides in this very place? And can youdescry no difference between his letters and those addressed to otherpeople?'
'If you don't want it,' said Hugh, disconcerted by this reproof, for hehad expected high praise, 'give it me back, and I'll deliver it. I don'tknow how to please you, master.'
'I shall deliver it,' returned his patron, putting it away after amoment's consideration, 'myself. Does the young lady walk out, on finemornings?'
'Mostly--about noon is her usual time.'
'Alone?'
'Yes, alone.'
'Where?'
'In the grounds before the house.--Them that the footpath crosses.'
'If the weather should be fine, I may throw myself in her way to-morrow,perhaps,' said Mr Chester, as coolly as if she were one of his ordinaryacquaintance. 'Mr Hugh, if I should ride up to the Maypole door, youwill do me the favour only to have seen me once. You must suppress yourgratitude, and endeavour to forget my forbearance in the matter of thebracelet. It is natural it should break out, and it does you honour; butwhen other folks are by, you must, for your own sake and safety, be aslike your usual self as though you owed me no obligation whatever, andhad never stood within these walls. You comprehend me?'
Hugh understood him perfectly. After a pause he muttered that he hopedhis patron would involve him in no trouble about this last letter;for he had kept it back solely with the view of pleasing him. He wascontinuing in this strain, when Mr Chester with a most beneficent andpatronising air cut him short by saying:
'My good fellow, you have my promise, my word, my sealed bond (for averbal pledge with me is quite as good), that I will always protect youso lo
ng as you deserve it. Now, do set your mind at rest. Keep it atease, I beg of you. When a man puts himself in my power so thoroughly asyou have done, I really feel as though he had a kind of claim upon me. Iam more disposed to mercy and forbearance under such circumstancesthan I can tell you, Hugh. Do look upon me as your protector, and restassured, I entreat you, that on the subject of that indiscretion, youmay preserve, as long as you and I are friends, the lightest heart thatever beat within a human breast. Fill that glass once more to cheer youon your road homewards--I am really quite ashamed to think how far youhave to go--and then God bless you for the night.'
'They think,' said Hugh, when he had tossed the liquor down, 'that I amsleeping soundly in the stable. Ha ha ha! The stable door is shut, butthe steed's gone, master.'
'You are a most convivial fellow,' returned his friend, 'and I love yourhumour of all things. Good night! Take the greatest possible care ofyourself, for my sake!'
It was remarkable that during the whole interview, each had endeavouredto catch stolen glances of the other's face, and had never looked fullat it. They interchanged one brief and hasty glance as Hugh went out,averted their eyes directly, and so separated. Hugh closed the doubledoors behind him, carefully and without noise; and Mr Chester remainedin his easy-chair, with his gaze intently fixed upon the fire.
'Well!' he said, after meditating for a long time--and said with a deepsigh and an uneasy shifting of his attitude, as though he dismissed someother subject from his thoughts, and returned to that which had heldpossession of them all the day--'the plot thickens; I have thrown theshell; it will explode, I think, in eight-and-forty hours, and shouldscatter these good folks amazingly. We shall see!'
He went to bed and fell asleep, but had not slept long when he startedup and thought that Hugh was at the outer door, calling in a strangevoice, very different from his own, to be admitted. The delusion was sostrong upon him, and was so full of that vague terror of the nightin which such visions have their being, that he rose, and taking hissheathed sword in his hand, opened the door, and looked out upon thestaircase, and towards the spot where Hugh had lain asleep; and evenspoke to him by name. But all was dark and quiet, and creeping backto bed again, he fell, after an hour's uneasy watching, into a secondsleep, and woke no more till morning.
Barnaby Rudge: A Tale of the Riots of 'Eighty Page 29
