Have you lost your papa and mamma too? Why, you are not much older than I am.
Little gentleman, said Kenelm, gravely, I am just of age, and you, I suppose, are about fourteen.
What fun! cried the boy, abruptly. Isnt it fun?
It will not be fun if I am sentenced to penal servitude for stealing your uncles gig, and robbing his little nephew of L10. By the by, that choleric relation of yours meant to knock down somebody else when he struck at me. He asked, Are you the villain? Pray who is the villain? he is evidently in your confidence.
Villain! he is the most honourable, high-mindedBut no matter now: Ill introduce you to him when we reach Tor-Hadham. Whip that pony: he is crawling.
It is up hill: a good man spares his beast.
No art and no eloquence could extort from his young companion any further explanation than Kenelm had yet received; and indeed, as the journey advanced, and they approached their destination, both parties sank into silence. Kenelm was seriously considering that his first days experience of real life in the skin of another had placed in some peril his own. He had knocked down a man evidently respectable and well to do, had carried off that mans nephew, and made free with that mans goods and chattels; namely, his gig and horse. All this might be explained satisfactorily to a justice of the peace, but how? By returning to his former skin; by avowing himself to be Kenelm Chillingly, a distinguished university medalist, heir to no ignoble name and some L10,000 a year. But then what a scandal! he who abhorred scandal; in vulgar parlance, what a row! he who denied that the very word row was sanctioned by any classic authorities in the English language. He would have to explain how he came to be found disguised, carefully disguised, in garments such as no baronets eldest soneven though that baronet be the least ancestral man of mark whom it suits the convenience of a First Minister to recommend to the Sovereign for exaltation over the rank of Misterwas ever beheld in, unless he had taken flight to the gold-diggings. Was this a position in which the heir of the Chillinglys, a distinguished family, whose coat-of-arms dated from the earliest authenticated period of English heraldry under Edward III. as Three Fishes azure, could be placed without grievous slur on the cold and ancient blood of the Three Fishes?
And then individually to himself, Kenelm, irrespectively of the Three Fishes,what a humiliation! He had put aside his respected fathers deliberate preparations for his entrance into real life; he had perversely chosen his own walk on his own responsibility; and here, before half the first day was over, what an infernal scrape he had walked himself into! and what was his excuse? A wretched little boy, sobbing and chuckling by turns, and yet who was clever enough to twist Kenelm Chillingly round his finger; twist him, a man who thought himself so much wiser than his parents,a man who had gained honours at the University,a man of the gravest temperament,a man of so nicely critical a turn of mind that there was not a law of art or nature in which he did not detect a flaw; that he should get himself into this mess was, to say the least of it, an uncomfortable reflection.
The boy himself, as Kenelm glanced at him from time to time, became impish and Will-of-the-Wisp-ish. Sometimes he laughed to himself loudly, sometimes he wept to himself quietly; sometimes, neither laughing nor weeping, he seemed absorbed in reflection. Twice as they came nearer to the town of Tor-Hadham, Kenelm nudged the boy, and said, My boy, I must talk with you; and twice the boy, withdrawing his arm from the nudge, had answered dreamily, Hush! I am thinking.
And so they entered the town of Tor-Hadham, the cob very much done up.
CHAPTER III
NOW, young sir, said Kenelm, in a tone calm, but peremptory,now we are in the town, where am I to take you? and wherever it be, there to say good-by.
No, not good-by. Stay with me a little bit. I begin to feel frightened, and I am so friendless; and the boy, who had before resented the slightest nudge on the part of Kenelm, now wound his arm into Kenelms, and clung to him caressingly.
I dont know what my readers have hitherto thought of Kenelm Chillingly: but, amid all the curves and windings of his whimsical humour, there was one way that went straight to his heart; you had only to be weaker than himself and ask his protection.
He turned round abruptly; he forgot all the strangeness of his position, and replied: Little brute that you are, Ill be shot if I forsake you if in trouble. But some compassion is also due to the cob: for his sake say where we are to stop.
I am sure I cant say: I never was here before. Let us go to a nice quiet inn. Drive slowly: well look out for one.
Tor-Hadham was a large town, not nominally the capital of the county, but, in point of trade and bustle and life, virtually the capital. The straight street, through which the cob went as slowly as if he had been drawing a Triumphal Car up the Sacred Hill, presented an animated appearance. The shops had handsome facades and plate-glass windows; the pavements exhibited a lively concourse, evidently not merely of business, but of pleasure, for a large proportion of the passers-by was composed of the fair sex, smartly dressed, many of them young and some pretty. In fact a regiment of her Majestys -th Hussars had been sent into the town two days before; and, between the officers of that fortunate regiment and the fair sex in that hospitable town, there was a natural emulation which should make the greater number of slain and wounded. The advent of these heroes, professional subtracters from hostile and multipliers of friendly populations, gave a stimulus to the caterers for those amusements which bring young folks together,archery-meetings, rifle-shootings, concerts, balls, announced in bills attached to boards and walls and exposed at shop-windows.
The boy looked eagerly forth from the gig, scanning especially these advertisements, till at length he uttered an excited exclamation, Ah, I was right: there it is!
There what is? asked Kenelm,the inn? His companion did not answer, but Kenelm following the boys eye perceived an immense hand-bill.
Do just ask where the theatre is, said the boy, in a whisper, turning away his head.
Kenelm stopped the cob, made the inquiry, and was directed to take the next turning to the right. In a few minutes the compo portico of an ugly dilapidated building, dedicated to the Dramatic Muses, presented itself at the angle of a dreary, deserted lane. The walls were placarded with play-bills, in which the name of Compton stood forth as gigantic as capitals could make it. The boy drew a sigh. Now, said he, let us look out for an inn near here,the nearest.
No inn, however, beyond the rank of a small and questionable looking public-house was apparent, until at a distance somewhat remote from the theatre, and in a quaint, old-fashioned, deserted square, a neat, newly whitewashed house displayed upon its frontispiece, in large black letters of funereal aspect, Temperance Hotel.
Stop, said the boy; dont you think that would suit us? it looks quiet.
Could not look more quiet if it were a tombstone, replied Kenelm.
The boy put his hand upon the reins and stopped the cob. The cob was in that condition that the slightest touch sufficed to stop him, though he turned his head somewhat ruefully as if in doubt whether hay and corn would be within the regulations of a Temperance Hotel. Kenelm descended and entered the house. A tidy woman emerged from a sort of glass cupboard which constituted the bar, minus the comforting drinks associated with the beau ideal of a bar, but which displayed instead two large decanters of cold water with tumblers a discretion, and sundry plates of thin biscuits and sponge-cakes. This tidy woman politely inquired what was his pleasure.
Pleasure, answered Kenelm, with his usual gravity, is not the word I should myself have chosen. But could you oblige my horseI mean that horsewith a stall and a feed of oats, and that young gentleman and myself with a private room and a dinner?
Dinner! echoed the hostess,dinner!
A thousand pardons, maam. But if the word dinner shock you I retract it, and would say instead something to eat and drink.
Drink! This is strictly a Temperance Hotel, sir.
Oh, if you dont eat and drink here, exclaimed Kenelm, fiercely, for he was famished, I wish you good morning.
Stay a bit, sir. We do eat and drink here. But we are very simple folks. We allow no fermented liquors.
Not even a glass of beer?
Only ginger-beer. Alcohols are strictly forbidden. We have tea and coffee and milk. But most of our customers prefer the pure liquid. As for eating, sir,anything you order, in reason.
Kenelm shook his head and was retreating, when the boy, who had sprung from the gig and overheard the conversation, cried petulantly, What does it signify? Who wants fermented liquors? Water will do very well. And as for dinner,anything convenient. Please, maam, show us into a private room: I am so tired. The last words were said in a caressing manner, and so prettily, that the hostess at once changed her tone, and muttering, Poor boy! and, in a still more subdued mutter, What a pretty face he has! nodded, and led the way up a very clean old-fashioned staircase.
But the horse and gig, where are they to go? said Kenelm, with a pang of conscience on reflecting how ill treated hitherto had been both horse and owner.
Drink! This is strictly a Temperance Hotel, sir.
Oh, if you dont eat and drink here, exclaimed Kenelm, fiercely, for he was famished, I wish you good morning.
Stay a bit, sir. We do eat and drink here. But we are very simple folks. We allow no fermented liquors.
Not even a glass of beer?
Only ginger-beer. Alcohols are strictly forbidden. We have tea and coffee and milk. But most of our customers prefer the pure liquid. As for eating, sir,anything you order, in reason.
Kenelm shook his head and was retreating, when the boy, who had sprung from the gig and overheard the conversation, cried petulantly, What does it signify? Who wants fermented liquors? Water will do very well. And as for dinner,anything convenient. Please, maam, show us into a private room: I am so tired. The last words were said in a caressing manner, and so prettily, that the hostess at once changed her tone, and muttering, Poor boy! and, in a still more subdued mutter, What a pretty face he has! nodded, and led the way up a very clean old-fashioned staircase.
But the horse and gig, where are they to go? said Kenelm, with a pang of conscience on reflecting how ill treated hitherto had been both horse and owner.
Oh, as for the horse and gig, sir, you will find Jukess livery-stables a few yards farther down. We dont take in horses ourselves; our customers seldom keep them: but you will find the best of accommodation at Jukess.
Kenelm conducted the cob to the livery-stables thus indicated, and waited to see him walked about to cool, well rubbed down, and made comfortable over half a peck of oats,for Kenelm Chillingly was a humane man to the brute creation,and then, in a state of ravenous appetite, returned to the Temperance Hotel, and was ushered into a small drawing-room, with a small bit of carpet in the centre, six small chairs with cane seats, prints on the walls descriptive of the various effects of intoxicating liquors upon sundry specimens of mankind,some resembling ghosts, others fiends, and all with a general aspect of beggary and perdition; contrasted by Happy-Family pictures,smiling wives, portly husbands, rosy infants, emblematic of the beatified condition of members of the Temperance Society.