Authors: George W. M. Reynolds,James Malcolm Rymer
THE OLD ADMIRAL AND HIS SERVANT.—THE COMMUNICATION FROM THE
LANDLORD OF THE NELSON'S ARMS.
While
those matters of most grave and serious import were going on at the Hall, while
each day, and almost each hour in each day, was producing more and more
conclusive evidence upon a matter which at first had seemed too monstrous to be
at all credited, it may well be supposed what a wonderful sensation was
produced among the gossip-mongers of the neighbourhood by the exaggerated
reports that had reached them.
The
servants, who had left the Hall on no other account, as they declared, but
sheer fright at the awful visits of the vampyre, spread the news far and wide,
so that in the adjoining villages and market-towns the vampyre of Bannerworth
Hall became quite a staple article of conversation.
Such
a positive godsend for the lovers of the marvellous had not appeared in the
country side within the memory of that sapient individual—the oldest
inhabitant.
And,
moreover, there was one thing which staggered some people of better education
and maturer judgments, and that was, that the more they took pains to inquire
into the matter, in order, if possible, to put an end to what they considered a
gross lie from the commencement, the more evidence they found to stagger their
own senses upon the subject.
Everywhere
then, in every house, public as well as private, something was being
continually said of the vampyre. Nursery maids began to think a vampyre vastly
superior to "old scratch and old bogie" as a means of terrifying
their infant charges into quietness, if not to sleep, until they themselves
became too much afraid upon the subject to mention it.
But
nowhere was gossiping carried on upon the subject with more systematic fervour
than at an inn called the Nelson's Arms, which was in the high street of the
nearest market town to the Hall.
There,
it seemed as if the lovers of the horrible made a point of holding their head
quarters, and so thirsty did the numerous discussions make the guests, that the
landlord was heard to declare that he, from his heart, really considered a
vampyre as very nearly equal to a contested election.
It
was towards evening of the same day that Marchdale and Henry made their visit
to Sir Francis Varney, that a postchaise drew up to the inn we have mentioned.
In the vehicle were two persons of exceedingly dissimilar appearance and
general aspect.
One
of these people was a man who seemed fast verging upon seventy years of age,
although, from his still ruddy and embrowned complexion and stentorian voice,
it was quite evident he intended yet to keep time at arm's-length for many
years to come.
He
was attired in ample and expensive clothing, but every article had a naval
animus about it, if we may be allowed such an expression with regard to
clothing. On his buttons was an anchor, and the general assortment and colour
of the clothing as nearly assimilated as possible to the undress naval uniform
of an officer of high rank some fifty or sixty years ago.
His
companion was a younger man, and about his appearance there was no secret at
all. He was a genuine sailor, and he wore the shore costume of one. He was
hearty-looking, and well dressed, and evidently well fed.
As
the chaise drove up to the door of the inn, this man made an observation to the
other to the following effect,—
"A-hoy!"
"Well,
you lubber, what now?" cried the other.
"They
call this the Nelson's Arms; and you know, shiver me, that for the best half of
his life he had but one."
"D—n
you!" was the only rejoinder he got for this observation; but, with that,
he seemed very well satisfied.
"Heave
to!" he then shouted to the postilion, who was about to drive the chaise
into the yard. "Heave to, you lubberly son of a gun! we don't want to go
into dock."
"Ah!"
said the old man, "let's get out, Jack. This is the port; and, do you
hear, and be cursed to you, let's have no swearing, d—n you, nor bad language,
you lazy swab."
"Aye,
aye," cried Jack; "I've not been ashore now a matter o' ten years,
and not larnt a little shore-going politeness, admiral, I ain't been your
walley de sham
without larning
a little about land reckonings. Nobody would take me for a sailor now, I'm
thinking, admiral."
"Hold
your noise!"
"Aye,
aye, sir."
Jack,
as he was called, bundled out of the chaise when the door was opened, with a
movement so closely resembling what would have ensued had he been dragged out
by the collar, that one was tempted almost to believe that such a feat must
have been accomplished all at once by some invisible agency.
He
then assisted the old gentleman to alight, and the landlord of the inn
commenced the usual profusion of bows with which a passenger by a postchaise is
usually welcomed in preference to one by a stage coach.
"Be
quiet, will you!" shouted the admiral, for such indeed he was. "Be
quiet."
"Best
accommodation, sir—good wine—well-aired beds—good attendance—fine air—"
"Belay
there," said Jack; and he gave the landlord what no doubt he considered a
gentle admonition, but which consisted of such a dig in the ribs, that he made
as many evolutions as the clown in a pantomime when he vociferates hot
codlings.
"Now,
Jack, where's the sailing instructions?" said his master.
"Here,
sir, in the locker," said Jack, as he took from his pocket a letter, which
he handed to the admiral.
"Won't
you step in, sir?" said the landlord, who had begun now to recover a
little from the dig in the ribs.
"What's
the use of coming into port and paying harbour dues, and all that sort of
thing, till we know if it's the right, you lubber, eh?"
"No;
oh, dear me, sir, of course—God bless me, what can the old gentleman
mean?"
The
admiral opened the letter, and read:—
"If
you stop at the Nelson's Aims at Uxotter, you will hear of me, and I can be
sent for, when I will tell you more.
"Yours, very obediently and humbly,
"JOSIAH CRINKLES."
"Who
the deuce is he?"
"This
is Uxotter, sir," said the landlord; "and here you are, sir, at the
Nelson's Arms. Good beds—good wine—good—"
"Silence!"
"Yes,
sir—oh, of course"
"Who
the devil is Josiah Crinkles?"
"Ha!
ha! ha! ha! Makes me laugh, sir. Who the devil indeed! They do say the devil
and lawyers, sir, know something of each other—makes me smile."
"I'll
make you smile on the other side of that d——d great hatchway of a mouth of
yours in a minute. Who is Crinkles?"
"Oh,
Mr. Crinkles, sir, everybody knows, most respectable attorney, sir, indeed,
highly respectable man, sir."
"A
lawyer?"
"Yes,
sir, a lawyer."
"Well,
I'm d——d!"
Jack
gave a long whistle, and both master and man looked at each other aghast.
"Now,
hang me!" cried the admiral, "if ever I was so taken in in all my
life."
"Ay,
ay, sir," said Jack.
"To
come a hundred and seventy miles see a d——d swab of a rascally lawyer."
"Ay,
ay, sir."
"I'll
smash him—Jack!"
"Yer
honour?"
"Get
into the chaise again."
"Well,
but where's Master Charles? Lawyers, in course, sir, is all blessed rogues;
but, howsomdever, he may have for once in his life this here one of 'em have
told us of the right channel, and if so be as he has, don't be the Yankee to
leave him among the pirates. I'm ashamed on you."
"You
infernal scoundrel; how dare you preach to me in such a way, you lubberly
rascal?"
"Cos
you desarves it."
"Mutiny—mutiny—by
Jove! Jack, I'll have you put in irons—you're a scoundrel, and no seaman."
"No
seaman!—no seaman!"
"Not
a bit of one."
"Very
good. It's time, then, as I was off the purser's books. Good bye to you; I only
hopes as you may get a better seaman to stick to you and be your
walley de sham
nor Jack Pringle, that's all the harm
I wish you. You didn't call me no seaman in the Bay of Corfu, when the bullets
were scuttling our nobs."
"Jack,
you rascal, give us your fin. Come here, you d——d villain. You'll leave me,
will you?"
"Not
if I know it."
"Come
in, then"
"Don't
tell me I'm no seaman. Call me a wagabone if you like, but don't hurt my
feelings. There I'm as tender as a baby, I am.—Don't do it."
"Confound
you, who is doing it?"
"The
devil."
"Who
is?"
"Don't,
then."
Thus
wrangling, they entered the inn, to the great amusement of several bystanders,
who had collected to hear the altercation between them.
"Would
you like a private room, sir?" said the landlord.
"What's
that to you?" said Jack.
"Hold
your noise, will you?" cried his master. "Yes, I should like a
private room, and some grog."
"Strong
as the devil!" put in Jack.
"Yes,
sir-yes, sir. Good wines—good beds—good—"
"You
said all that before, you know," remarked Jack, as he bestowed upon the
landlord another terrific dig in the ribs.
"Hilloa!"
cried the admiral, "you can send for that infernal lawyer, Mister
Landlord."
"Mr.
Crinkles, sir?"
"Yes,
yes."
"Who
may I have the honour to say, sir, wants to see him?"
"Admiral
Bell."
"Certainly,
admiral, certainly. You'll find him a very conversible, nice, gentlemanly
little man, sir."
"And
tell him as Jack Pringle is here, too," cried the seaman.
"Oh,
yes, yes—of course," said the landlord, who was in such a state of
confusion from the digs in the ribs he had received and the noise his guests
had already made in his house, that, had he been suddenly put upon his oath, he
would scarcely have liked to say which was the master and which was the man.
"The
idea now, Jack," said the admiral, "of coming all this way to see a
lawyer."
"Ay,
ay, sir."
"If
he'd said he was a lawyer, we would have known what to do. But it's a take in,
Jack."
"So
I think. Howsomdever, we'll serve him out when we catch him, you know."
"Good—so
we will."
"And,
then, again, he may know something about Master Charles, sir, you know. Lord
love him, don't you remember when he came aboard to see you once at
Portsmouth?"
"Ah!
I do, indeed."
"And
how he said he hated the French, and quite a baby, too. What perseverance and
sense. 'Uncle,' says he to you, 'when I'm a big man, I'll go in a ship, and
fight all the French in a heap,' says he. 'And beat 'em, my boy, too,' says
you; cos you thought he'd forgot that; and then he says, 'what's the use of
saying that, stupid?—don't we always beat 'em?'"
The
admiral laughed and rubbed his hands, as he cried aloud,—
"I
remember, Jack—I remember him. I was stupid to make such a remark."
"I
know you was—a d——d old fool I thought you."
"Come,
come. Hilloa, there!"
"Well,
then, what do you call me no seaman for?"
"Why,
Jack, you bear malice like a marine."
"There
you go again. Goodbye. Do you remember when we were yard arm to yard arm with
those two Yankee frigates, and took 'em both! You didn't call me a marine then,
when the scuppers were running with blood. Was I a seaman then?"
"You
were, Jack—you were; and you saved my life."
"I
didn't."
"You
did."
"I
say I didn't—it was a marlin-spike."
"But
I say you did, you rascally scoundrel.—I say you did, and I won't be
contradicted in my own ship."
"Call
this your ship?"
"No,
d—n it—I—"
"Mr.
Crinkles," said the landlord, flinging the door wide open, and so at once
putting an end to the discussion which always apparently had a tendency to wax
exceedingly warm.
"The
shark, by G—d!" said Jack.
A
little, neatly dressed man made his appearance, and advanced rather timidly
into the room. Perhaps he had heard from the landlord that the parties who had
sent for him were of rather a violent sort.
"So
you are Crinkles, are you?" cried the admiral. "Sit down, though you
are a lawyer."
"Thank
you, sir. I am an attorney, certainly, and my name as certainly is
Crinkles."