CHAPTER VII.
"Upon my word," cries Jones, "thou art a very odd fellow, and I like
thy humour extremely."--FIELDING.
The rumbling and jolting vehicle which conveyed Clarence to the
metropolis stopped at the door of a tavern in Holborn. Linden was
ushered into a close coffee-room and presented with a bill of fare.
While he was deliberating between the respective merits of mutton
chops and beefsteaks, a man with a brown coat, brown breeches, and a
brown wig, walked into the room; he cast a curious glance at Clarence
and then turned to the waiter.
"A pair of slippers!"
"Yes, sir," and the waiter disappeared.
"I suppose," said the brown gentleman to Clarence, "I suppose, sir,
you are the gentleman just come to town?"
"You are right, sir," said Clarence.
"Very well, very well indeed," resumed the stranger, musingly. "I
took the liberty of looking at your boxes in the passage; I knew a
lady, sir, a relation of yours, I think."
"Sir!" exclaimed Linden, colouring violently.
"At least I suppose, for her name was just the same as yours, only, at
least, one letter difference between them: yours is Linden I see, sir;
hers was Minden. Am I right in my conjecture that you are related to
her?"
"Sir," answered Clarence, gravely, "notwithstanding the similarity of
our names, we are not related."
"Very extraordinary," replied the stranger.
"Very," repeated Linden.
"I had the honour, sir," said the brown gentleman, "to make Mrs.
Minden many presents of value, and I should have been very happy to
have obliged you in the same manner, had you been in any way connected
with that worthy gentlewoman."
"You are very kind," said Linden, "you are very kind; and since such
were your intentions, I believe I must have been connected with Mrs.
Minden. At all events, as you justly observe, there is only the
difference of a letter between our names, a discrepancy too slight, I
am sure, to alter your benevolent intentions."
Here the waiter returned with the slippers.
The stranger slowly unbuttoned his gaiters. "Sir," said he to Linden,
"we will renew our conversation presently."
No sooner had the generous friend of Mrs. Minden deposited his feet in
their easy tenements than he quitted the room. "Pray," said Linden to
the waiter, when he had ordered his simple repast, "who is that
gentleman in brown?"
"Mr. Brown," replied the waiter.
"And who or what is Mr. Brown?" asked our hero.
Before the waiter could reply, Mr. Brown returned, with a large
bandbox, carefully enveloped in a blue handkerchief. "You come from
----, sir?" said Mr. Brown, quietly seating himself at the same table
as Linden.
"No, sir, I do not."
"From ----, then?"
"No, sir,--from W----."
"W----?--ay--well. I knew a lady with a name very like W---- (the
late Lady Waddilove) extremely well. I made her some valuable
presents: her ladyship was very sensible of it."
"I don't doubt it, sir," replied Clarence; "such instances of general
beneficence rarely occur!"
"I have some magnificent relics of her ladyship in this box," returned
Mr. Brown.
"Really! then she was no less generous than yourself, I presume?"
"Yes, her ladyship was remarkably generous. About a week before she
died (the late Lady Waddilove was quite sensible of her danger), she
called me to her,--'Brown,' said she, 'you are a good creature; I have
had my most valuable things from you. I am not ungrateful: I will
leave you--my maid! She is as clever as you are and as good.' I took
the hint, sir, and married. It was an excellent bargain. My wife is
a charming woman; she entirely fitted up Mrs. Minden's wardrobe and I
furnished the house. Mrs. Minden was greatly indebted to us."
"Heaven help me!" thought Clarence, "the man is certainly mad."
The waiter entered with the dinner; and Mr. Brown, who seemed to have
a delicate aversion to any conversation in the presence of the
Ganymede of the Holborn tavern, immediately ceased his communications;
meanwhile, Clarence took the opportunity to survey him more minutely
than he had hitherto done.
His new acquaintance was in age about forty-eight; in stature, rather
under the middle height; and thin, dried, withered, yet muscular
withal, like a man who, in stinting his stomach for the sake of
economy, does not the less enjoy the power of undergoing any fatigue
or exertion that an object of adequate importance may demand. We have
said already that he was attired, like twilight, "in a suit of sober
brown;" and there was a formality, a precision, and a cat-like sort of
cleanliness in his garb, which savoured strongly of the respectable
coxcombry of the counting-house. His face was lean, it is true, but
not emaciated; and his complexion, sallow and adust, harmonized well
with the colours of his clothing. An eye of the darkest hazel, sharp,
shrewd, and flashing at times, especially at the mention of the
euphonious name of Lady Waddilove,--a name frequently upon the lips of
the inheritor of her abigail,--with a fire that might be called
brilliant, was of that modest species which can seldom encounter the
straightforward glance of another; on the contrary, it seemed
restlessly uneasy in any settled place, and wandered from ceiling to
floor, and corner to corner, with an inquisitive though apparently
careless glance, as if seeking for something to admire or haply to
appropriate; it also seemed to be the especial care of Mr. Brown to
veil, as far as he was able, the vivacity of his looks beneath an
expression of open and unheeding good-nature, an expression strangely
enough contrasting with the closeness and sagacity which Nature had
indelibly stamped upon features pointed, aquiline, and impressed with
a strong mixture of the Judaical physiognomy. The manner and bearing
of this gentleman partook of the same undecided character as his
countenance: they seemed to be struggling between civility and
importance; a real eagerness to make the acquaintance of the person he
addressed, and an assumed recklessness of the advantages which that
acquaintance could bestow;--it was like the behaviour of a man who is
desirous of having the best possible motives imputed to him, but is
fearful lest that desire should not be utterly fulfilled. At the
first glance you would have pledged yourself for his respectability;
at the second, you would have half suspected him to be a rogue; and,
after you had been half an hour in his company, you would confess
yourself in the obscurest doubt which was the better guess, the first
or the last.
"Waiter!" said Mr. Brown, looking enviously at the viands upon which
Linden, having satisfied his curiosity, was now with all the appetite
of youth regaling himself. "Waiter!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Bring me a sandwich--and--and, waiter, see that I have plenty of--
plenty of--"
"What, sir?"
"Plenty of mustard, waiter."
"Mustard" (and here Mr. Brown addressed himself to Clarence) "is a
very wonderful assistance to the digestion. By the by, sir, if you
want any curiously fine mustard, I can procure you some pots quite
capital,--a great favour, though,--they were smuggled from France,
especially for the use of the late Lady Waddilove."
"Thank you," said Linden, dryly; "I shall be very happy to accept
anything you may wish to offer me."
Mr. Brown took a pocket-book from his pouch. "Six pots of mustard,
sir,--shall I say six?"
"As many as you please," replied Clarence; and Mr. Brown wrote down
"Six pots of French mustard."
"You are a very young gentleman, sir," said Mr. Brown, "probably
intended for some profession: I don't mean to be impertinent, but if I
can be of any assistance--"
"You can, sir," replied Linden, "and immediately--have the kindness to
ring the bell."
Mr. Brown, with a grave smile, did as he was desired; the waiter re-
entered, and, receiving a whispered order from Clarence, again
disappeared.
"What profession did you say, sir?" renewed Mr. Brown, artfully.
"None!" replied Linden.
"Oh, very well,--very well indeed. Then as an idle, independent
gentleman, you will of course be a bit of a beau; want some shirts,
possibly; fine cravats, too; gentlemen wear a particular pattern now;
gloves, gold, or shall I say gilt chain, watch and seals, a ring or
two, and a snuff-box?"
"Sir, you are vastly obliging," said Clarence, in undisguised
surprise.
"Not at all, I would do anything for a relation of Mrs. Minden."
The waiter re-entered; "Sir," said he to Linden, "your room is quite
ready."
"I am glad to hear it," said Clarence, rising. "Mr. Brown, I have the
honour of wishing you a good evening."
"Stay, sir--stay; you have not looked into these things belonging to
the late Lady Waddilove."
"Another time," said Clarence, hastily.
"To-morrow, at ten o'clock," muttered Mr. Brown.
"I am exceedingly glad I have got rid of that fellow," said Linden to
himself, as he stretched his limbs in his easy-chair, and drank off
the last glass of his pint of port. "If I have not already seen, I
have already guessed, enough of the world, to know that you are to
look to your pockets when a man offers you a present; they who 'give,'
also 'take away.' So here I am in London, with an order for 1000
pounds in my purse, the wisdom of Dr. Latinas in my head, and the
health of eighteen in my veins; will it not be my own fault if I do
not both enjoy and make myself--"
And then, yielding to meditations of future success, partaking
strongly of the inexperienced and sanguine temperament of the
soliloquist, Clarence passed the hours till his pillow summoned him to
dreams no less ardent and perhaps no less unreal.
