Chapter 31
Pondering on his unhappy lot, Joe sat and listened for a long time,expecting every moment to hear their creaking footsteps on the stairs,or to be greeted by his worthy father with a summons to capitulateunconditionally, and deliver himself up straightway. But neither voicenor footstep came; and though some distant echoes, as of closing doorsand people hurrying in and out of rooms, resounding from time to timethrough the great passages, and penetrating to his remote seclusion,gave note of unusual commotion downstairs, no nearer sound disturbed hisplace of retreat, which seemed the quieter for these far-off noises, andwas as dull and full of gloom as any hermit's cell.
It came on darker and darker. The old-fashioned furniture of thechamber, which was a kind of hospital for all the invalided movables inthe house, grew indistinct and shadowy in its many shapes; chairs andtables, which by day were as honest cripples as need be, assumed adoubtful and mysterious character; and one old leprous screen of fadedIndia leather and gold binding, which had kept out many a cold breath ofair in days of yore and shut in many a jolly face, frowned on him witha spectral aspect, and stood at full height in its allotted corner, likesome gaunt ghost who waited to be questioned. A portrait opposite thewindow--a queer, old grey-eyed general, in an oval frame--seemed towink and doze as the light decayed, and at length, when the last faintglimmering speck of day went out, to shut its eyes in good earnest, andfall sound asleep. There was such a hush and mystery about everything,that Joe could not help following its example; and so went off intoa slumber likewise, and dreamed of Dolly, till the clock of Chigwellchurch struck two.
Still nobody came. The distant noises in the house had ceased, andout of doors all was quiet; save for the occasional barking of somedeep-mouthed dog, and the shaking of the branches by the night wind.He gazed mournfully out of window at each well-known object as it laysleeping in the dim light of the moon; and creeping back to his formerseat, thought about the late uproar, until, with long thinking of, itseemed to have occurred a month ago. Thus, between dozing, and thinking,and walking to the window and looking out, the night wore away; the grimold screen, and the kindred chairs and tables, began slowly to revealthemselves in their accustomed forms; the grey-eyed general seemed towink and yawn and rouse himself; and at last he was broad awake again,and very uncomfortable and cold and haggard he looked, in the dull greylight of morning.
The sun had begun to peep above the forest trees, and already flungacross the curling mist bright bars of gold, when Joe dropped from hiswindow on the ground below, a little bundle and his trusty stick, andprepared to descend himself.
It was not a very difficult task; for there were so many projections andgable ends in the way, that they formed a series of clumsy steps, withno greater obstacle than a jump of some few feet at last. Joe, with hisstick and bundle on his shoulder, quickly stood on the firm earth, andlooked up at the old Maypole, it might be for the last time.
He didn't apostrophise it, for he was no great scholar. He didn't curseit, for he had little ill-will to give to anything on earth. He feltmore affectionate and kind to it than ever he had done in all his lifebefore, so said with all his heart, 'God bless you!' as a parting wish,and turned away.
He walked along at a brisk pace, big with great thoughts of going fora soldier and dying in some foreign country where it was very hot andsandy, and leaving God knows what unheard-of wealth in prize-money toDolly, who would be very much affected when she came to know of it;and full of such youthful visions, which were sometimes sanguine andsometimes melancholy, but always had her for their main point andcentre, pushed on vigorously until the noise of London sounded in hisears, and the Black Lion hove in sight.
It was only eight o'clock then, and very much astonished the Black Lionwas, to see him come walking in with dust upon his feet at that earlyhour, with no grey mare to bear him company. But as he ordered breakfastto be got ready with all speed, and on its being set before him gaveindisputable tokens of a hearty appetite, the Lion received him, asusual, with a hospitable welcome; and treated him with those marksof distinction, which, as a regular customer, and one within thefreemasonry of the trade, he had a right to claim.
This Lion or landlord,--for he was called both man and beast, by reasonof his having instructed the artist who painted his sign, to conveyinto the features of the lordly brute whose effigy it bore, as near acounterpart of his own face as his skill could compass and devise,--wasa gentleman almost as quick of apprehension, and of almost as subtle awit, as the mighty John himself. But the difference between them lay inthis: that whereas Mr Willet's extreme sagacity and acuteness werethe efforts of unassisted nature, the Lion stood indebted, in no smallamount, to beer; of which he swigged such copious draughts, that most ofhis faculties were utterly drowned and washed away, except the onegreat faculty of sleep, which he retained in surprising perfection.The creaking Lion over the house-door was, therefore, to say thetruth, rather a drowsy, tame, and feeble lion; and as these socialrepresentatives of a savage class are usually of a conventionalcharacter (being depicted, for the most part, in impossible attitudesand of unearthly colours), he was frequently supposed by the moreignorant and uninformed among the neighbours, to be the veritableportrait of the host as he appeared on the occasion of some greatfuneral ceremony or public mourning.
'What noisy fellow is that in the next room?' said Joe, when he haddisposed of his breakfast, and had washed and brushed himself.
'A recruiting serjeant,' replied the Lion.
Joe started involuntarily. Here was the very thing he had been dreamingof, all the way along.
'And I wish,' said the Lion, 'he was anywhere else but here. The partymake noise enough, but don't call for much. There's great cry there, MrWillet, but very little wool. Your father wouldn't like 'em, I know.'
Perhaps not much under any circumstances. Perhaps if he could have knownwhat was passing at that moment in Joe's mind, he would have liked themstill less.
'Is he recruiting for a--for a fine regiment?' said Joe, glancing at alittle round mirror that hung in the bar.
'I believe he is,' replied the host. 'It's much the same thing, whateverregiment he's recruiting for. I'm told there an't a deal of differencebetween a fine man and another one, when they're shot through andthrough.'
'They're not all shot,' said Joe.
'No,' the Lion answered, 'not all. Those that are--supposing it's doneeasy--are the best off in my opinion.'
'Ah!' retorted Joe, 'but you don't care for glory.'
'For what?' said the Lion.
'Glory.'
'No,' returned the Lion, with supreme indifference. 'I don't. You'reright in that, Mr Willet. When Glory comes here, and calls for anythingto drink and changes a guinea to pay for it, I'll give it him fornothing. It's my belief, sir, that the Glory's arms wouldn't do a verystrong business.'
These remarks were not at all comforting. Joe walked out, stopped atthe door of the next room, and listened. The serjeant was describinga military life. It was all drinking, he said, except that there werefrequent intervals of eating and love-making. A battle was the finestthing in the world--when your side won it--and Englishmen always didthat. 'Supposing you should be killed, sir?' said a timid voice in onecorner. 'Well, sir, supposing you should be,' said the serjeant, 'whatthen? Your country loves you, sir; his Majesty King George the Thirdloves you; your memory is honoured, revered, respected; everybody's fondof you, and grateful to you; your name's wrote down at full length in abook in the War Office. Damme, gentlemen, we must all die some time, oranother, eh?'
The voice coughed, and said no more.
Joe walked into the room. A group of half-a-dozen fellows had gatheredtogether in the taproom, and were listening with greedy ears. One ofthem, a carter in a smockfrock, seemed wavering and disposed to enlist.The rest, who were by no means disposed, strongly urged him to do so(according to the custom of mankind), backed the serjeant's arguments,and grinned among themselves. 'I say nothing, boys,' said the serjeant,who sat a little apar
t, drinking his liquor. 'For lads of spirit'--herehe cast an eye on Joe--'this is the time. I don't want to inveigle you.The king's not come to that, I hope. Brisk young blood is what wewant; not milk and water. We won't take five men out of six. We wanttop-sawyers, we do. I'm not a-going to tell tales out of school, but,damme, if every gentleman's son that carries arms in our corps, throughbeing under a cloud and having little differences with his relations,was counted up'--here his eye fell on Joe again, and so good-naturedly,that Joe beckoned him out. He came directly.
'You're a gentleman, by G--!' was his first remark, as he slapped himon the back. 'You're a gentleman in disguise. So am I. Let's swear afriendship.'
Joe didn't exactly do that, but he shook hands with him, and thanked himfor his good opinion.
'You want to serve,' said his new friend. 'You shall. You were made forit. You're one of us by nature. What'll you take to drink?'
'Nothing just now,' replied Joe, smiling faintly. 'I haven't quite madeup my mind.'
'A mettlesome fellow like you, and not made up his mind!' cried theserjeant. 'Here--let me give the bell a pull, and you'll make up yourmind in half a minute, I know.'
'You're right so far'--answered Joe, 'for if you pull the bell here,where I'm known, there'll be an end of my soldiering inclinations in notime. Look in my face. You see me, do you?'
'I do,' replied the serjeant with an oath, 'and a finer young fellow orone better qualified to serve his king and country, I never set my--' heused an adjective in this place--'eyes on.'
'Thank you,' said Joe, 'I didn't ask you for want of a compliment, butthank you all the same. Do I look like a sneaking fellow or a liar?'
The serjeant rejoined with many choice asseverations that he didn't; andthat if his (the serjeant's) own father were to say he did, he wouldrun the old gentleman through the body cheerfully, and consider it ameritorious action.
Joe expressed his obligations, and continued, 'You can trust me then,and credit what I say. I believe I shall enlist in your regimentto-night. The reason I don't do so now is, because I don't want untilto-night, to do what I can't recall. Where shall I find you, thisevening?'
His friend replied with some unwillingness, and after much ineffectualentreaty having for its object the immediate settlement of the business,that his quarters would be at the Crooked Billet in Tower Street; wherehe would be found waking until midnight, and sleeping until breakfasttime to-morrow.
'And if I do come--which it's a million to one, I shall--when will youtake me out of London?' demanded Joe.
'To-morrow morning, at half after eight o'clock,' replied the serjeant.'You'll go abroad--a country where it's all sunshine and plunder--thefinest climate in the world.'
'To go abroad,' said Joe, shaking hands with him, 'is the very thing Iwant. You may expect me.'
'You're the kind of lad for us,' cried the serjeant, holding Joe's handin his, in the excess of his admiration. 'You're the boy to push yourfortune. I don't say it because I bear you any envy, or would take awayfrom the credit of the rise you'll make, but if I had been bred andtaught like you, I'd have been a colonel by this time.'
'Tush, man!' said Joe, 'I'm not so young as that. Needs must when thedevil drives; and the devil that drives me is an empty pocket and anunhappy home. For the present, good-bye.'
'For king and country!' cried the serjeant, flourishing his cap.
'For bread and meat!' cried Joe, snapping his fingers. And so theyparted.
He had very little money in his pocket; so little indeed, that afterpaying for his breakfast (which he was too honest and perhaps too proudto score up to his father's charge) he had but a penny left. He hadcourage, notwithstanding, to resist all the affectionate importunitiesof the serjeant, who waylaid him at the door with many protestations ofeternal friendship, and did in particular request that he would do himthe favour to accept of only one shilling as a temporary accommodation.Rejecting his offers both of cash and credit, Joe walked away withstick and bundle as before, bent upon getting through the day as he bestcould, and going down to the locksmith's in the dusk of the evening;for it should go hard, he had resolved, but he would have a parting wordwith charming Dolly Varden.
He went out by Islington and so on to Highgate, and sat on many stonesand gates, but there were no voices in the bells to bid him turn. Sincethe time of noble Whittington, fair flower of merchants, bells have cometo have less sympathy with humankind. They only ring for money and onstate occasions. Wanderers have increased in number; ships leave theThames for distant regions, carrying from stem to stern no other cargo;the bells are silent; they ring out no entreaties or regrets; they areused to it and have grown worldly.
Joe bought a roll, and reduced his purse to the condition (with adifference) of that celebrated purse of Fortunatus, which, whatever wereits favoured owner's necessities, had one unvarying amount in it. Inthese real times, when all the Fairies are dead and buried, there arestill a great many purses which possess that quality. The sum-total theycontain is expressed in arithmetic by a circle, and whether it be addedto or multiplied by its own amount, the result of the problem is moreeasily stated than any known in figures.
Evening drew on at last. With the desolate and solitary feeling of onewho had no home or shelter, and was alone utterly in the world for thefirst time, he bent his steps towards the locksmith's house. He haddelayed till now, knowing that Mrs Varden sometimes went out alone,or with Miggs for her sole attendant, to lectures in the evening; anddevoutly hoping that this might be one of her nights of moral culture.
He had walked up and down before the house, on the opposite side of theway, two or three times, when as he returned to it again, he caught aglimpse of a fluttering skirt at the door. It was Dolly's--to whom elsecould it belong? no dress but hers had such a flow as that. He pluckedup his spirits, and followed it into the workshop of the Golden Key.
His darkening the door caused her to look round. Oh that face! 'If ithadn't been for that,' thought Joe, 'I should never have walked intopoor Tom Cobb. She's twenty times handsomer than ever. She might marry aLord!'
He didn't say this. He only thought it--perhaps looked it also. Dollywas glad to see him, and was SO sorry her father and mother were awayfrom home. Joe begged she wouldn't mention it on any account.
Dolly hesitated to lead the way into the parlour, for there it wasnearly dark; at the same time she hesitated to stand talking in theworkshop, which was yet light and open to the street. They had got bysome means, too, before the little forge; and Joe having her hand in his(which he had no right to have, for Dolly only gave it him to shake), itwas so like standing before some homely altar being married, that it wasthe most embarrassing state of things in the world.
'I have come,' said Joe, 'to say good-bye--to say good-bye for I don'tknow how many years; perhaps for ever. I am going abroad.'
Now this was exactly what he should not have said. Here he was, talkinglike a gentleman at large who was free to come and go and roam about theworld at pleasure, when that gallant coachmaker had vowed but the nightbefore that Miss Varden held him bound in adamantine chains; and hadpositively stated in so many words that she was killing him by inches,and that in a fortnight more or thereabouts he expected to make a decentend and leave the business to his mother.
Dolly released her hand and said 'Indeed!' She remarked in the samebreath that it was a fine night, and in short, betrayed no more emotionthan the forge itself.
'I couldn't go,' said Joe, 'without coming to see you. I hadn't theheart to.'
Dolly was more sorry than she could tell, that he should have taken somuch trouble. It was such a long way, and he must have such a deal todo. And how WAS Mr Willet--that dear old gentleman--
'Is this all you say!' cried Joe.
All! Good gracious, what did the man expect! She was obliged to take herapron in her hand and run her eyes along the hem from corner to corner,to keep herself from laughing in his face;--not because his gazeconfused her--not at all.
Joe had small experi
ence in love affairs, and had no notion howdifferent young ladies are at different times; he had expected totake Dolly up again at the very point where he had left her after thatdelicious evening ride, and was no more prepared for such an alterationthan to see the sun and moon change places. He had buoyed himself up allday with an indistinct idea that she would certainly say 'Don't go,' or'Don't leave us,' or 'Why do you go?' or 'Why do you leave us?' or wouldgive him some little encouragement of that sort; he had even entertainedthe possibility of her bursting into tears, of her throwing herself intohis arms, of her falling down in a fainting fit without previous wordor sign; but any approach to such a line of conduct as this, had been sofar from his thoughts that he could only look at her in silent wonder.
Dolly in the meanwhile, turned to the corners of her apron, and measuredthe sides, and smoothed out the wrinkles, and was as silent as he. Atlast after a long pause, Joe said good-bye. 'Good-bye'--said Dolly--withas pleasant a smile as if he were going into the next street, and werecoming back to supper; 'good-bye.'
'Come,' said Joe, putting out both hands, 'Dolly, dear Dolly, don't letus part like this. I love you dearly, with all my heart and soul; withas much truth and earnestness as ever man loved woman in this world, Ido believe. I am a poor fellow, as you know--poorer now than ever, forI have fled from home, not being able to bear it any longer, and mustfight my own way without help. You are beautiful, admired, are loved byeverybody, are well off and happy; and may you ever be so! Heaven forbidI should ever make you otherwise; but give me a word of comfort. Saysomething kind to me. I have no right to expect it of you, I know, butI ask it because I love you, and shall treasure the slightest word fromyou all through my life. Dolly, dearest, have you nothing to say to me?'
No. Nothing. Dolly was a coquette by nature, and a spoilt child. She hadno notion of being carried by storm in this way. The coachmaker wouldhave been dissolved in tears, and would have knelt down, and calledhimself names, and clasped his hands, and beat his breast, and tuggedwildly at his cravat, and done all kinds of poetry. Joe had no businessto be going abroad. He had no right to be able to do it. If he was inadamantine chains, he couldn't.
'I have said good-bye,' said Dolly, 'twice. Take your arm away directly,Mr Joseph, or I'll call Miggs.'
'I'll not reproach you,' answered Joe, 'it's my fault, no doubt. I havethought sometimes that you didn't quite despise me, but I was a fool tothink so. Every one must, who has seen the life I have led--you most ofall. God bless you!'
He was gone, actually gone. Dolly waited a little while, thinking hewould return, peeped out at the door, looked up the street and down aswell as the increasing darkness would allow, came in again, waited alittle longer, went upstairs humming a tune, bolted herself in, laidher head down on her bed, and cried as if her heart would break. And yetsuch natures are made up of so many contradictions, that if Joe Willethad come back that night, next day, next week, next month, the odds area hundred to one she would have treated him in the very same manner, andhave wept for it afterwards with the very same distress.
She had no sooner left the workshop than there cautiously peered outfrom behind the chimney of the forge, a face which had already emergedfrom the same concealment twice or thrice, unseen, and which, aftersatisfying itself that it was now alone, was followed by a leg, ashoulder, and so on by degrees, until the form of Mr Tappertit stoodconfessed, with a brown-paper cap stuck negligently on one side of itshead, and its arms very much a-kimbo.
'Have my ears deceived me,' said the 'prentice, 'or do I dream! am I tothank thee, Fortun', or to cus thee--which?'
He gravely descended from his elevation, took down his piece oflooking-glass, planted it against the wall upon the usual bench, twistedhis head round, and looked closely at his legs.
'If they're a dream,' said Sim, 'let sculptures have such wisions, andchisel 'em out when they wake. This is reality. Sleep has no such limbsas them. Tremble, Willet, and despair. She's mine! She's mine!'
With these triumphant expressions, he seized a hammer and dealt a heavyblow at a vice, which in his mind's eye represented the sconce or headof Joseph Willet. That done, he burst into a peal of laughter whichstartled Miss Miggs even in her distant kitchen, and dipping his headinto a bowl of water, had recourse to a jack-towel inside the closetdoor, which served the double purpose of smothering his feelings anddrying his face.
Joe, disconsolate and down-hearted, but full of courage too, on leavingthe locksmith's house made the best of his way to the Crooked Billet,and there inquired for his friend the serjeant, who, expecting no manless, received him with open arms. In the course of five minutes afterhis arrival at that house of entertainment, he was enrolled among thegallant defenders of his native land; and within half an hour, wasregaled with a steaming supper of boiled tripe and onions, prepared,as his friend assured him more than once, at the express command of hismost Sacred Majesty the King. To this meal, which tasted very savouryafter his long fasting, he did ample justice; and when he had followedit up, or down, with a variety of loyal and patriotic toasts, he wasconducted to a straw mattress in a loft over the stable, and locked inthere for the night.
The next morning, he found that the obliging care of his martial friendhad decorated his hat with sundry particoloured streamers, which madea very lively appearance; and in company with that officer, and threeother military gentlemen newly enrolled, who were under a cloud so densethat it only left three shoes, a boot, and a coat and a half visibleamong them, repaired to the riverside. Here they were joined by acorporal and four more heroes, of whom two were drunk and daring, andtwo sober and penitent, but each of whom, like Joe, had his dusty stickand bundle. The party embarked in a passage-boat bound for Gravesend,whence they were to proceed on foot to Chatham; the wind was in theirfavour, and they soon left London behind them, a mere dark mist--a giantphantom in the air.
Barnaby Rudge: A Tale of the Riots of 'Eighty Page 32
