I thank you, sir, but I have dined.
What then? Break out into a second course of mischief, as the Swan recommends,Swan of Avon, sir! No? Well, then, I charge you with this cup of sack. Are you going far, if I may take the liberty to ask?
To London.
Oh! said the traveller, while his young companion lifted his eyes; and I was again struck with their remarkable penetration and brilliancy.
London is the best place in the world for a lad of spirit. See life there,glass of fashion and mould of form. Fond of the play, sir?
I never saw one.
Possible! cried the gentleman, dropping the handle of his knife, and bringing up the point horizontally; then, young man, he added solemnly, you have,but I wont say what you have to see. I wont say,no, not if you could cover this table with golden guineas, and exclaim, with the generous ardor so engaging in youth, Mr. Peacock, these are yours if you will only say what I have to see!
I laughed outright. May I be forgiven for the boast, but I had the reputation at school of a pleasant laugh. The young mans face grew dark at the sound; he pushed back his plate and sighed.
Why, continued his friend, my companion here, who, I suppose, is about your own age, he could tell you what a play is,he could tell you what life is. He has viewed the manners of the town; perused the traders, as the Swan poetically remarks. Have you not, my lad, eh?
Thus directly appealed to, the boy looked up with a smile of scorn on his lips,
Yes, I know what life is, and I say that life, like poverty, has strange bed-fellows. Ask me what life is now, and I say a melodrama; ask me what it is twenty years hence, and I shall say
A farce? put in his comrade.
No, a tragedy,or comedy as Moliere wrote it.
And how is that? I asked, interested and somewhat surprised at the tone of my contemporary.
Where the play ends in the triumph of the wittiest rogue. My friend here has no chance!
Praise from Sir Hubert Stanley, hemyes, Hal Peacock may be witty, but he is no rogue.
This was not exactly my meaning, said the boy, dryly.
A fico for your meaning, as the Swan says.Hallo, you sir! Bully Host, clear the tablefresh tumblershot watersugarlemonandThe bottles out! Smoke, sir? and Mr. Peacock offered me a cigar.
Upon my refusal, he carefully twirled round a very uninviting specimen of some fabulous havanna, moistened it all over, as a boa-constrictor may do the ox he prepares for deglutition, bit off one end, and lighting the other from a little machine for that purpose which he drew from his pocket, he was soon absorbed in a vigorous effort (which the damp inherent in the weed long resisted) to poison the surrounding atmosphere. Therewith the young gentleman, either from emulation or in self-defence, extracted from his own pouch a cigar-case of notable elegance,being of velvet, embroidered apparently by some fair hand, for From Juliet was very legibly worked thereon,selected a cigar of better appearance than that in favor with his comrade, and seemed quite as familiar with the tobacco as he had been with the brandy.
Fast, sir, fast lad that, quoth Mr. Peacock, in the short gasps which his resolute struggle with his uninviting victim alone permitted; nothing but [puff, puff] your true [suck, suck] sylsylsylvadoes for him. Out, by the Lord! the jaws of darkness have devoured it up; and again Mr. Peacock applied to his phosphoric machine. This time patience and perseverance succeeded, and the heart of the cigar responded by a dull red spark (leaving the sides wholly untouched) to the indefatigable ardor of its wooer.
This feat accomplished, Mr. Peacock exclaimed triumphantly: And now, what say you, my lads, to a game at cards? Three of us,whist and a dummy; nothing better, eh? As he spoke, he produced from his coat-pocket a red silk handkerchief, a bunch of keys, a nightcap, a tooth-brush, a piece of shaving-soap, four lumps of sugar, the remains of a bun, a razor, and a pack of cards. Selecting the last, and returning its motley accompaniments to the abyss whence they had emerged, he turned up, with a jerk of his thumb and finger, the knave of clubs, and placing it on the top of the rest, slapped the cards emphatically on the table.
You are very good, but I dont know whist, said I.
Not know whistnot been to a playnot smoke! Then pray tell me, young man, said he majestically, and with a frown, what on earth you do know.
Much consternated by this direct appeal, and greatly ashamed of my ignorance of the cardinal points of erudition in Mr. Peacocks estimation, I hung my head and looked down.
That is right, renewed Mr. Peacock, more benignly; you have the ingenuous shame of youth. It is promising, sir; lowliness is young ambitions ladder, as the Swan says. Mount the first step, and learn whist,sixpenny points to begin with.
Notwithstanding any newness in actual life, I had had the good fortune to learn a little of the way before me, by those much-slandered guides called novels,works which are often to the inner world what maps are to the outer; and sundry recollections of Gil Blas and the Vicar of Wakefield came athwart me. I had no wish to emulate the worthy Moses, and felt that I might not have even the shagreen spectacles to boast of in my negotiations with this new Mr. Jenkinson. Accordingly, shaking my head, I called for my bill. As I took out my purse,knit by my mother,with one gold piece in one corner, and sundry silver ones in the other, I saw that the eyes of Mr. Peacock twinkled.
Poor spirit, sir! poor spirit, young man! This avarice sticks deep, as the Swan beautifully observes. Nothing venture, nothing have.
Nothing have, nothing venture, I returned, plucking up spirit.
Nothing have! Young sir, do you doubt my soliditymy capitalmy golden joys?
Sir, I spoke of myself. I am not rich enough to gamble.
Gamble! exclaimed Mr. Peacock, in virtuous indignationgamble! what do you mean, sir? You insult me! and he rose threateningly, and slapped his white hat on his wig. Pshaw! let him alone, Hal, said the boy, contemptuously. Sir, if he is impertinent, thrash him. (This was to me.) Impertinent! thrash! exclaimed Mr. Peacock, waxing very red; but catching the sneer on his companions lip, he sat down, and subsided into sullen silence.
Meanwhile I paid my bill. This dutyrarely a cheerful oneperformed, I looked round for my knapsack, and perceived that it was in the boys hands. He was very coolly reading the address, which, in case of accidents, I prudently placed on it: Pisistratus Caxton, Esq.,Hotel,Street, Strand.
I took my knapsack from him, more surprised at such a breach of good manners in a young gentleman who knew life so well, than I should have been at a similar error on the part of Mr. Peacock. He made no apology, but nodded farewell, and stretched himself at full length on the bench. Mr. Peacock, now absorbed in a game of patience, vouchsafed no return to my parting salutation, and in another moment I was alone on the high-road. My thoughts turned long upon the young man I had left; mixed with a sort of instinctive compassionate foreboding of an ill future for one with such habits and in such companionship, I felt an involuntary admiration, less even for his good looks than his ease, audacity, and the careless superiority he assumed over a comrade so much older than himself.