"Let me alone, sir. Do you like my proposal?"
"Yes, I do; you may commence your arrangements immediately."
PART TWO, CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
I SET OFF ON A WILD-GOOSE CHASE--AND FALL IN WITH AN OLD FRIEND.
The next morning Timothy had procured me another valet, and throwing off his liveries, made his appearance in the evening, sending up to say a man wished to speak to me. He was dressed in high-low boots, worsted stockings, greasy leather small clothes, a s.h.a.g waistcoat, and a blue frock overall. His face was stained of a dark olive, and when he was ushered in, Harcourt, who was sitting at table with me, had not the slightest recognition of him. As Harcourt knew all my secrets, I had confided this; I had not told him what Timothy"s intentions were, as I wished to ascertain whether his disguise was complete. I had merely said I had given Timothy leave for a few days.
"Perhaps you may wish me away for a short time," said Harcourt, looking at Tim.
"Not at all, my dear Harcourt, why should I? There"s n.o.body here but you and Timothy."
"Timothy! excellent--upon my word, I never should have known him."
"He is going forth on his adventures."
"And if you please, sir, I will lose no time. It is now dark, and I know where the gipsy hangs out."
"Success attend you then; but be careful Tim. You had better write to me, instead of calling."
"I had the same idea: and now I wish you a good evening."
When Timothy quitted the room, I explained our intentions to Harcourt.
"Yours is a strange adventurous sort of life, Newland; you are constantly plotted against, and plotting in your turn--mines and counter-mines. I have an idea that you will turn out some grand personage after all; for if not, why should there be all this trouble about you?"
"The trouble, in the present case, is all about Fleta; who must, by your argument, turn out some grand personage."
"Well, perhaps she may. I should like to see that little girl, Newland."
"That cannot be, just now, for reasons you well know; but some other time it will give me great pleasure."
On the second day after Tim"s departure, I received a letter from him by the twopenny post. He had made the acquaintance of the gipsy, but had not extracted any information, being as yet afraid to venture any questions. He further stated that his new companion had no objection to a gla.s.s or two, and that he had no doubt but that if he could contrive to make him tipsy, in a few days he would have some important intelligence to communicate. I was in a state of great mental agitation during this time. I went to Mr Masterton, and narrated to him all that had pa.s.sed. He was surprised and amused, and desired me not to fail to let him have the earliest intelligence of what came to light. He had not received any answer as yet from his agent in Dublin.
It was not until eight days afterwards that I received further communication from Timothy; and I was in a state of great impatience, combined with anxiety, lest any accident should have happened. His communication was important. He was on the most intimate footing with the man, who had proposed that he should a.s.sist him to carry off a little girl, who was at a school at Brentford. They had been consulting how this should be done, and Timothy had proposed forging a letter, desiring her to come up to town, and his carrying it as a livery servant. The man had also other plans, one of which was to obtain an entrance into the house by making acquaintance with the servants; another, by calling to his aid some of the women of his fraternity to tell fortunes: nothing was as yet decided, but that he was resolved to obtain possession of the little girl, even if he were obliged to resort to force. In either case Timothy was engaged to a.s.sist.
When I read this, I more than congratulated myself upon the man"s being on the wrong scent, and that Timothy had hit upon his scheme. Timothy continued;--that they had indulged in very deep potations last night, and that the man had not scrupled to say that he was employed by a person of large fortune, who paid well, and whom it might not be advisable to refuse, as he had great power. After some difficulty, he asked Timothy if he had ever heard the name of Melchior in his tribe.
Timothy replied that he had, and that at the gathering he had seen him and his wife. Timothy at one time thought that the man was about to reveal everything, but of a sudden he stopped short, and gave evasive answers. To a question put by Timothy, as to where they were to take the child if they obtained possession of her, the man had replied, that she would go over the water. Such were the contents of the letter, and I eagerly awaited a further communication.
The next day I called at Long"s Hotel upon a gentleman with whom I was upon intimate terms. After remaining a short time with him, I was leaving the hotel, when I was attracted by some trunks in the entrance hall. I started when I read the address of--"A. De Benyon, Esquire, to be left at F--t Hotel, Dublin." I asked the waiter who was by, whether Mr De Benyon had left the hotel. He replied that he had left it in his own carriage that morning, and having more luggage than he could take with him, had desired these trunks to be forwarded by the coach. I had by that time resumed my serenity. I took out a memorandum book, wrote down the address on the trunks, saying that I was sorry not to have seen Mr De Benyon, and that I would write to him.
But if I composed myself before the waiter, how did my heart throb as I hastily pa.s.sed through Bond Street to my home! I had made up my mind, upon what very slight grounds the reader must be aware, that this Mr De Benyon either must be my father, or, if not, was able, to tell me who was. Had not Mr Masterton said that there was a clue--had he not written to Dublin? The case was to my excited imagination as clear as the noon-day, and before I arrived at home, I had made up my mind in what manner I should proceed. It was then about four o"clock. I hastily packed up my portmanteau--took with me all my ready money, about sixty pounds, and sent the servant to secure a place in the mail to Holyhead. He returned, stating that there was a seat taken for me. I waited till half-past five to see Harcourt, but he did not come home. I then wrote him a short note, telling him where I was going, and promising to write as soon as I arrived.
"Ireland is to be the ground of my future adventures, my dear Harcourt. Call upon Mr Masterton, and tell him what I have done, which he surely will approve. Open Timothy"s letters, and let me have their contents. I leave you to arrange and act for me in every respect until I return. In the mean time believe me,--
"Ever yours,--
"J. Newland."
I gave the letter to the valet, and calling a coach drove to the office, and in less than five minutes afterwards was rolling away to Holyhead, felicitating myself upon my prompt.i.tude and decision, little imagining to what the step I had taken was to lead.
It was a very dark night in November when I started on my expedition.
There were three other pa.s.sengers in the mail, none of whom had yet spoken a word, although we had made several miles of our journey.
m.u.f.fled up in my cloak, I indulged in my own reveries as usual, building up castles which toppled over one after another as I built and rebuilt again. At last one of the pa.s.sengers blew his nose, as if to give warning that he was about to speak; and then inquired of the gentleman next him if he had seen the evening newspapers. The other replied in the negative. "It would appear that Ireland is not in a very quiet state, sir," observed the first.
"Did you ever read the history of Ireland?" inquired the other.
"Not very particularly."
"Then, sir, if you were to take that trouble, you will find that Ireland, since it was first peopled, never has been in a quiet state, nor perhaps ever will. It is a species of human volcano--always either smoking, burning, or breaking out into eruptions and fire."
"_Very_ true, sir," replied the other. "I am told the White Boys are mustering in large numbers, and that some of the districts are quite impa.s.sable."
"Sir, if you had travelled much in Ireland, you would have found out that many of the districts are quite impa.s.sable, without the impediment of the White Boys."
"You have been a great deal in Ireland then, sir," replied the other.
"Yes, sir," said the other with a consequential air, "I believe I may venture to say that I am in charge of some of the most considerable properties in Ireland."
"Lawyer--agent--five per cent--and so on," muttered the third party, who sate by me, and had not yet spoken.
There was no mistaking him--it was my former master, Mr Cophagus; and I cannot say that I was very well pleased at this intimation of his presence, as I took it for granted that he would recognise me as soon as it was daylight. The conversation continued, without any remarks being made upon this interruption on the part of Mr Cophagus. The agent, it appeared, had been called to London on business, and was returning. The other was a professor of music, bound to Dublin on speculation. What called Mr Cophagus in that direction I could not comprehend; but I thought I would try and find out. I therefore, while the two others were engaged in conversation, addressed him in a low tone of voice.
"Can you tell me, sir, if the College at Dublin is considered good for the instruction of surgical pupils?"
"Country good, at all events plenty of practice--broken heads--and so on."
"Have you ever been in Ireland, sir?"
"Ireland!--never--don"t wish to go--must go--old women will die-- executor--botheration--and so on."
"I hope she has left you a good legacy, sir," replied I.
"Legacy--humph--can"t tell--silver tea-pot--suit of black, and so on.
Long journey--won"t pay--can"t be helped--old women always troublesome alive or dead--bury her, come back--and so on."
PART TWO, CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
I DENY MY MASTER.
Although Mr Cophagus was very communicative in his own way, he had no curiosity with regard to others, and the conversation dropped. The other two had also asked all the questions which they wished, and we all, as if by one agreement, fell back in our seats, and shut our eyes, to court sleep. I was the only one who wooed it in vain. Day broke, my companions were all in repose, and I discontinued my reveries, and examined their physiognomies. Mr Cophagus was the first to whom I directed my attention. He was much the same in face as when I had left him, but considerably thinner in person. His head was covered with a white nightcap, and he snored with emphasis. The professor of music was a very small man, with mustachios: his mouth was wide open; and one would have thought that he was in the full execution of a bravura. The third person, who had stated himself to be an agent, was a heavy, full-faced, coa.r.s.e-looking personage, with his hat over his eyes, and his head bent down on his chest, and I observed that he had a small packet in one of his hands, with his forefinger twisted through the string. I should not have taken further notice, had not the name of _T.
Iving_, in the corner of the side on which was the direction, attracted my attention. It was the name of Melchior"s London correspondent, who had attempted to bribe Timothy. This induced me to look down and read the direction of the packet, and I clearly deciphered, Sir Henry de Clare, Bart., Mount Castle, Connemara. I took out my tablets, and wrote down the address. I certainly had no reason for so doing, except that nothing should be neglected, as there was no saying what might turn out.
I had hardly replaced my tablets when the party awoke, made a sort of s.n.a.t.c.h at the packet, as if recollecting it, and wishing to ascertain if it were safe, looked at it, took off his hat, let down the window, and then looked round upon the other parties.