Chapter 40

by Charles Dickens

　　In which Nicholas falls in Love. He employs a Mediator, whoseProceedings are crowned with unexpected Success, excepting in onesolitary ParticularOnce more out of the clutches of his old persecutor, it needed nofresh stimulation to call forth the utmost energy and exertion thatSmike was capable of summoning to his aid. Without pausing for amoment to reflect upon the course he was taking, or the probabilityof its leading him homewards or the reverse, he fled away withsurprising swiftness and constancy of purpose, borne upon such wingsas only Fear can wear, and impelled by imaginary shouts in the wellremembered voice of Squeers, who, with a host of pursuers, seemed tothe poor fellow's disordered senses to press hard upon his track;now left at a greater distance in the rear, and now gaining fasterand faster upon him, as the alternations of hope and terror agitatedhim by turns. Long after he had become assured that these soundswere but the creation of his excited brain, he still held on, at apace which even weakness and exhaustion could scarcely retard. Itwas not until the darkness and quiet of a country road, recalled himto a sense of external objects, and the starry sky, above, warnedhim of the rapid flight of time, that, covered with dust and pantingfor breath, he stopped to listen and look about him.All was still and silent. A glare of light in the distance, castinga warm glow upon the sky, marked where the huge city lay. Solitaryfields, divided by hedges and ditches, through many of which he hadcrashed and scrambled in his flight, skirted the road, both by theway he had come and upon the opposite side. It was late now. Theycould scarcely trace him by such paths as he had taken, and if hecould hope to regain his own dwelling, it must surely be at such atime as that, and under cover of the darkness. This, by degrees,became pretty plain, even to the mind of Smike. He had, at first,entertained some vague and childish idea of travelling into thecountry for ten or a dozen miles, and then returning homewards by awide circuit, which should keep him clear of London--so great washis apprehension of traversing the streets alone, lest he shouldagain encounter his dreaded enemy--but, yielding to the convictionwhich these thoughts inspired, he turned back, and taking the openroad, though not without many fears and misgivings, made for Londonagain, with scarcely less speed of foot than that with which he hadleft the temporary abode of Mr Squeers.By the time he re-entered it, at the western extremity, the greaterpart of the shops were closed. Of the throngs of people who hadbeen tempted abroad after the heat of the day, but few remained inthe streets, and they were lounging home. But of these he asked hisway from time to time, and by dint of repeated inquiries, he atlength reached the dwelling of Newman Noggs.All that evening, Newman had been hunting and searching in bywaysand corners for the very person who now knocked at his door, whileNicholas had been pursuing the same inquiry in other directions. Hewas sitting, with a melancholy air, at his poor supper, when Smike'stimorous and uncertain knock reached his ears. Alive to everysound, in his anxious and expectant state, Newman hurrieddownstairs, and, uttering a cry of joyful surprise, dragged thewelcome visitor into the passage and up the stairs, and said not aword until he had him safe in his own garret and the door was shutbehind them, when he mixed a great mug-full of gin-and-water, andholding it to Smike's mouth, as one might hold a bowl of medicine tothe lips of a refractory child, commanded him to drain it to thelast drop.Newman looked uncommonly blank when he found that Smike did littlemore than put his lips to the precious mixture; he was in the act ofraising the mug to his own mouth with a deep sigh of compassion forhis poor friend's weakness, when Smike, beginning to relate theadventures which had befallen him, arrested him half-way, and hestood listening, with the mug in his hand.It was odd enough to see the change that came over Newman as Smikeproceeded. At first he stood, rubbing his lips with the back of hishand, as a preparatory ceremony towards composing himself for adraught; then, at the mention of Squeers, he took the mug under hisarm, and opening his eyes very wide, looked on, in the utmostastonishment. When Smike came to the assault upon himself in thehackney coach, he hastily deposited the mug upon the table, andlimped up and down the room in a state of the greatest excitement,stopping himself with a jerk, every now and then, as if to listenmore attentively. When John Browdie came to be spoken of, hedropped, by slow and gradual degrees, into a chair, and rubbing, hishands upon his knees--quicker and quicker as the story reached itsclimax--burst, at last, into a laugh composed of one loud sonorous'Ha! ha!' having given vent to which, his countenance immediatelyfell again as he inquired, with the utmost anxiety, whether it wasprobable that John Browdie and Squeers had come to blows.'No! I think not,' replied Smike. 'I don't think he could havemissed me till I had got quite away.'Newman scratched his head with a shout of great disappointment, andonce more lifting up the mug, applied himself to the contents;smiling meanwhile, over the rim, with a grim and ghastly smile atSmike.'You shall stay here,' said Newman; 'you're tired--fagged. I'lltell them you're come back. They have been half mad about you. MrNicholas--''God bless him!' cried Smike.'Amen!' returned Newman. 'He hasn't had a minute's rest or peace;no more has the old lady, nor Miss Nickleby.''No, no. Has she thought about me?' said Smike. 'Has she though?oh, has she, has she? Don't tell me so if she has not.''She has,' cried Newman. 'She is as noble-hearted as she isbeautiful.''Yes, yes!' cried Smike. 'Well said!''So mild and gentle,' said Newman.'Yes, yes!' cried Smike, with increasing eagerness.'And yet with such a true and gallant spirit,' pursued Newman.He was going on, in his enthusiasm, when, chancing to look at hiscompanion, he saw that he had covered his face with his hands, andthat tears were stealing out between his fingers.A moment before, the boy's eyes were sparkling with unwonted fire,and every feature had been lighted up with an excitement which madehim appear, for the moment, quite a different being.'Well, well,' muttered Newman, as if he were a little puzzled. 'Ithas touched me, more than once, to think such a nature should havebeen exposed to such trials; this poor fellow--yes, yes,--he feelsthat too--it softens him--makes him think of his former misery.Hah! That's it? Yes, that's--hum!'It was by no means clear, from the tone of these broken reflections,that Newman Noggs considered them as explaining, at allsatisfactorily, the emotion which had suggested them. He sat, in amusing attitude, for some time, regarding Smike occasionally with ananxious and doubtful glance, which sufficiently showed that he wasnot very remotely connected with his thoughts.At length he repeated his proposition that Smike should remain wherehe was for that night, and that he (Noggs) should straightway repairto the cottage to relieve the suspense of the family. But, as Smikewould not hear of this--pleading his anxiety to see his friendsagain--they eventually sallied forth together; and the night being,by this time, far advanced, and Smike being, besides, so footsorethat he could hardly crawl along, it was within an hour of sunrisewhen they reached their destination.At the first sound of their voices outside the house, Nicholas, whohad passed a sleepless night, devising schemes for the recovery ofhis lost charge, started from his bed, and joyfully admitted them.There was so much noisy conversation, and congratulation, andindignation, that the remainder of the family were soon awakened,and Smike received a warm and cordial welcome, not only from Kate,but from Mrs Nickleby also, who assured him of her future favour andregard, and was so obliging as to relate, for his entertainment andthat of the assembled circle, a most remarkable account extractedfrom some work the name of which she had never known, of amiraculous escape from some prison, but what one she couldn'tremember, effected by an officer whose name she had forgotten,confined for some crime which she didn't clearly recollect.At first Nicholas was disposed to give his uncle credit for someportion of this bold attempt (which had so nearly proved successful)to carry off Smike; but on more mature consideration, he wasinclined to think that the full merit of it rested with Mr Squeers.Determined to ascertain, if he could, through John Browdie, how thecase really stood, he betook himself to his daily occupation:meditating, as he went, on a great variety of schemes for thepunishment of the Yorkshire schoolmaster, all of which had theirfoundation in the strictest principles of retributive justice, andhad but the one drawback of being wholly impracticable.'A fine morning, Mr Linkinwater!' said Nicholas, entering theoffice.'Ah!' replied Tim, 'talk of the country, indeed! What do you thinkof this, now, for a day--a London day--eh?''It's a little clearer out of town,' said Nicholas.'Clearer!' echoed Tim Linkinwater. 'You should see it from mybedroom window.''You should see it from mine,' replied Nicholas, with a smile.'Pooh! pooh!' said Tim Linkinwater, 'don't tell me. Country!' (Bowwas quite a rustic place to Tim.) 'Nonsense! What can you get inthe country but new-laid eggs and flowers? I can buy new-laid eggsin Leadenhall Market, any morning before breakfast; and as toflowers, it's worth a run upstairs to smell my mignonette, or to seethe double wallflower in the back-attic window, at No. 6, in thecourt.''There is a double wallflower at No. 6, in the court, is there?'said Nicholas.'Yes, is there!' replied Tim, 'and planted in a cracked jug, withouta spout. There were hyacinths there, this last spring, blossoming,in--but you'll laugh at that, of course.''At what?''At their blossoming in old blacking-bottles,' said Tim.'Not I, indeed,' returned Nicholas.Tim looked wistfully at him, for a moment, as if he were encouragedby the tone of this reply to be more communicative on the subject;and sticking behind his ear, a pen that he had been making, andshutting up his knife with a smart click, said,'They belong to a sickly bedridden hump-backed boy, and seem to bethe only pleasure, Mr Nickleby, of his sad existence. How manyyears is it,' said Tim, pondering, 'since I first noticed him, quitea little child, dragging himself about on a pair of tiny crutches?Well! Well! Not many; but though they would appear nothing, if Ithought of other things, they seem a long, long time, when I thinkof him. It is a sad thing,' said Tim, breaking off, 'to see alittle deformed child sitting apart from other children, who areactive and merry, watching the games he is denied the power to sharein. He made my heart ache very often.''It is a good heart,' said Nicholas, 'that disentangles itself fromthe close avocations of every day, to heed such things. You weresaying--''That the flowers belonged to this poor boy,' said Tim; 'that's all.When it is fine weather, and he can crawl out of bed, he draws achair close to the window, and sits there, looking at them andarranging them, all day long. He used to nod, at first, and then wecame to speak. Formerly, when I called to him of a morning, andasked him how he was, he would smile, and say, "Better!" but now heshakes his head, and only bends more closely over his old plants.It must be dull to watch the dark housetops and the flying clouds,for so many months; but he is very patient.''Is there nobody in the house to cheer or help him?' asked Nicholas.'His father lives there, I believe,' replied Tim, 'and other peopletoo; but no one seems to care much for the poor sickly cripple. Ihave asked him, very often, if I can do nothing for him; his answeris always the same. "Nothing." His voice is growing weak of late,but I can see that he makes the old reply. He can't leave his bednow, so they have moved it close beside the window, and there helies, all day: now looking at the sky, and now at his flowers, whichhe still makes shift to trim and water, with his own thin hands. Atnight, when he sees my candle, he draws back his curtain, and leavesit so, till I am in bed. It seems such company to him to know thatI am there, that I often sit at my window for an hour or more, thathe may see I am still awake; and sometimes I get up in the night tolook at the dull melancholy light in his little room, and wonderwhether he is awake or sleeping.'The night will not be long coming,' said Tim, 'when he will sleep,and never wake again on earth. We have never so much as shakenhands in all our lives; and yet I shall miss him like an old friend.Are there any country flowers that could interest me like these, doyou think? Or do you suppose that the withering of a hundred kindsof the choicest flowers that blow, called by the hardest Latin namesthat were ever invented, would give me one fraction of the pain thatI shall feel when these old jugs and bottles are swept away aslumber? Country!' cried Tim, with a contemptuous emphasis; 'don'tyou know that I couldn't have such a court under my bedroom window,anywhere, but in London?'With which inquiry, Tim turned his back, and pretending to beabsorbed in his accounts, took an opportunity of hastily wiping hiseyes when he supposed Nicholas was looking another way.Whether it was that Tim's accounts were more than usually intricatethat morning, or whether it was that his habitual serenity had beena little disturbed by these recollections, it so happened that whenNicholas returned from executing some commission, and inquiredwhether Mr Charles Cheeryble was alone in his room, Tim promptly,and without the smallest hesitation, replied in the affirmative,although somebody had passed into the room not ten minutes before,and Tim took especial and particular pride in preventing anyintrusion on either of the brothers when they were engaged with anyvisitor whatever.'I'll take this letter to him at once,' said Nicholas, 'if that'sthe case.' And with that, he walked to the room and knocked at thedoor.No answer.Another knock, and still no answer.'He can't be here,' thought Nicholas. 'I'll lay it on his table.'So, Nicholas opened the door and walked in; and very quickly heturned to walk out again, when he saw, to his great astonishment anddiscomfiture, a young lady upon her knees at Mr Cheeryble's feet,and Mr Cheeryble beseeching her to rise, and entreating a thirdperson, who had the appearance of the young lady's femaleattendant, to add her persuasions to his to induce her to do so.Nicholas stammered out an awkward apology, and was precipitatelyretiring, when the young lady, turning her head a little, presentedto his view the features of the lovely girl whom he had seen at theregister-office on his first visit long before. Glancing from herto the attendant, he recognised the same clumsy servant who hadaccompanied her then; and between his admiration of the young lady'sbeauty, and the confusion and surprise of this unexpectedrecognition, he stood stock-still, in such a bewildered state ofsurprise and embarrassment that, for the moment, he was quite bereftof the power either to speak or move.'My dear ma'am--my dear young lady,' cried brother Charles inviolent agitation, 'pray don't--not another word, I beseech andentreat you! I implore you--I beg of you--to rise. We--we--are notalone.'As he spoke, he raised the young lady, who staggered to a chair andswooned away.'She has fainted, sir,' said Nicholas, darting eagerly forward.'Poor dear, poor dear!' cried brother Charles 'Where is my brotherNed? Ned, my dear brother, come here pray.''Brother Charles, my dear fellow,' replied his brother, hurryinginto the room, 'what is the--ah! what--''Hush! hush!--not a word for your life, brother Ned,' returned theother. 'Ring for the housekeeper, my dear brother--call TimLinkinwater! Here, Tim Linkinwater, sir--Mr Nickleby, my dear sir,leave the room, I beg and beseech of you.''I think she is better now,' said Nicholas, who had been watchingthe patient so eagerly, that he had not heard the request.'Poor bird!' cried brother Charles, gently taking her hand in his,and laying her head upon his arm. 'Brother Ned, my dear fellow, youwill be surprised, I know, to witness this, in business hours; but--'here he was again reminded of the presence of Nicholas, andshaking him by the hand, earnestly requested him to leave the room,and to send Tim Linkinwater without an instant's delay.Nicholas immediately withdrew and, on his way to the counting-house,met both the old housekeeper and Tim Linkinwater, jostling eachother in the passage, and hurrying to the scene of action withextraordinary speed. Without waiting to hear his message, TimLinkinwater darted into the room, and presently afterwards Nicholasheard the door shut and locked on the inside.He had abundance of time to ruminate on this discovery, for TimLinkinwater was absent during the greater part of an hour, duringthe whole of which time Nicholas thought of nothing but the younglady, and her exceeding beauty, and what could possibly have broughther there, and why they made such a mystery of it. The more hethought of all this, the more it perplexed him, and the more anxioushe became to know who and what she was. 'I should have known heramong ten thousand,' thought Nicholas. And with that he walked upand down the room, and recalling her face and figure (of which hehad a peculiarly vivid remembrance), discarded all other subjects ofreflection and dwelt upon that alone.At length Tim Linkinwater came back--provokingly cool, and withpapers in his hand, and a pen in his mouth, as if nothing hadhappened.'Is she quite recovered?' said Nicholas, impetuously.'Who?' returned Tim Linkinwater.'Who!' repeated Nicholas. 'The young lady.''What do you make, Mr Nickleby,' said Tim, taking his pen out of hismouth, 'what do you make of four hundred and twenty-seven timesthree thousand two hundred and thirty-eight?''Nay,' returned Nicholas, 'what do you make of my question first? Iasked you--''About the young lady,' said Tim Linkinwater, putting on hisspectacles. 'To be sure. Yes. Oh! she's very well.''Very well, is she?' returned Nicholas.'Very well,' replied Mr Linkinwater, gravely.'Will she be able to go home today?' asked Nicholas.'She's gone,' said Tim.'Gone!''Yes.''I hope she has not far to go?' said Nicholas, looking earnestly atthe other.'Ay,' replied the immovable Tim, 'I hope she hasn't.'Nicholas hazarded one or two further remarks, but it was evidentthat Tim Linkinwater had his own reasons for evading the subject,and that he was determined to afford no further informationrespecting the fair unknown, who had awakened so much curiosity inthe breast of his young friend. Nothing daunted by this repulse,Nicholas returned to the charge next day, emboldened by thecircumstance of Mr Linkinwater being in a very talkative andcommunicative mood; but, directly he resumed the theme, Tim relapsedinto a state of most provoking taciturnity, and from answering inmonosyllables, came to returning no answers at all, save such aswere to be inferred from several grave nods and shrugs, which onlyserved to whet that appetite for intelligence in Nicholas, which hadalready attained a most unreasonable height.Foiled in these attempts, he was fain to content himself withwatching for the young lady's next visit, but here again he wasdisappointed. Day after day passed, and she did not return. Helooked eagerly at the superscription of all the notes and letters,but there was not one among them which he could fancy to be in herhandwriting. On two or three occasions he was employed on businesswhich took him to a distance, and had formerly been transacted byTim Linkinwater. Nicholas could not help suspecting that, for somereason or other, he was sent out of the way on purpose, and that theyoung lady was there in his absence. Nothing transpired, however,to confirm this suspicion, and Tim could not be entrapped into anyconfession or admission tending to support it in the smallestdegree.Mystery and disappointment are not absolutely indispensable to thegrowth of love, but they are, very often, its powerful auxiliaries.'Out of sight, out of mind,' is well enough as a proverb applicableto cases of friendship, though absence is not always necessary tohollowness of heart, even between friends, and truth and honesty,like precious stones, are perhaps most easily imitated at adistance, when the counterfeits often pass for real. Love, however,is very materially assisted by a warm and active imagination: whichhas a long memory, and will thrive, for a considerable time, on veryslight and sparing food. Thus it is, that it often attains its mostluxuriant growth in separation and under circumstances of the utmostdifficulty; and thus it was, that Nicholas, thinking of nothing butthe unknown young lady, from day to day and from hour to hour,began, at last, to think that he was very desperately in love withher, and that never was such an ill-used and persecuted lover as he.Still, though he loved and languished after the most orthodoxmodels, and was only deterred from making a confidante of Kate bythe slight considerations of having never, in all his life, spokento the object of his passion, and having never set eyes upon her,except on two occasions, on both of which she had come and gone likea flash of lightning--or, as Nicholas himself said, in the numerousconversations he held with himself, like a vision of youth andbeauty much too bright to last--his ardour and devotion remainedwithout its reward. The young lady appeared no more; so there was agreat deal of love wasted (enough indeed to have set up half-a-dozenyoung gentlemen, as times go, with the utmost decency), and nobodywas a bit the wiser for it; not even Nicholas himself, who, on thecontrary, became more dull, sentimental, and lackadaisical, everyday.While matters were in this state, the failure of a correspondent ofthe brothers Cheeryble, in Germany, imposed upon Tim Linkinwater andNicholas the necessity of going through some very long andcomplicated accounts, extending over a considerable space of time.To get through them with the greater dispatch, Tim Linkinwaterproposed that they should remain at the counting-house, for a weekor so, until ten o'clock at night; to this, as nothing damped thezeal of Nicholas in the service of his kind patrons--not evenromance, which has seldom business habits--he cheerfully assented.On the very first night of these later hours, at nine exactly, therecame: not the young lady herself, but her servant, who, beingcloseted with brother Charles for some time, went away, and returnednext night at the same hour, and on the next, and on the next again.These repeated visits inflamed the curiosity of Nicholas to the veryhighest pitch. Tantalised and excited, beyond all bearing, andunable to fathom the mystery without neglecting his duty, heconfided the whole secret to Newman Noggs, imploring him to be onthe watch next night; to follow the girl home; to set on foot suchinquiries relative to the name, condition, and history of hermistress, as he could, without exciting suspicion; and to report theresult to him with the least possible delay.Beyond all measure proud of this commission, Newman Noggs took uphis post, in the square, on the following evening, a full hourbefore the needful time, and planting himself behind the pump andpulling his hat over his eyes, began his watch with an elaborateappearance of mystery, admirably calculated to excite the suspicionof all beholders. Indeed, divers servant girls who came to drawwater, and sundry little boys who stopped to drink at the ladle,were almost scared out of their senses, by the apparition of NewmanNoggs looking stealthily round the pump, with nothing of him visiblebut his face, and that wearing the expression of a meditative Ogre.Punctual to her time, the messenger came again, and, after aninterview of rather longer duration than usual, departed. Newmanhad made two appointments with Nicholas: one for the next evening,conditional on his success: and one the next night following, whichwas to be kept under all circumstances. The first night he was notat the place of meeting (a certain tavern about half-way between thecity and Golden Square), but on the second night he was there beforeNicholas, and received him with open arms.'It's all right,' whispered Newman. 'Sit down. Sit down, there's adear young man, and let me tell you all about it.'Nicholas needed no second invitation, and eagerly inquired what wasthe news.'There's a great deal of news,' said Newman, in a flutter ofexultation. 'It's all right. Don't be anxious. I don't know whereto begin. Never mind that. Keep up your spirits. It's all right.''Well?' said Nicholas eagerly. 'Yes?''Yes,' replied Newman. 'That's it.''What's it?' said Nicholas. 'The name--the name, my dear fellow!''The name's Bobster,' replied Newman.'Bobster!' repeated Nicholas, indignantly.'That's the name,' said Newman. 'I remember it by lobster.''Bobster!' repeated Nicholas, more emphatically than before. 'Thatmust be the servant's name.''No, it an't,' said Newman, shaking his head with great positiveness.'Miss Cecilia Bobster.''Cecilia, eh?' returned Nicholas, muttering the two names togetherover and over again in every variety of tone, to try the effect.'Well, Cecilia is a pretty name.''Very. And a pretty creature too,' said Newman.'Who?' said Nicholas.'Miss Bobster.''Why, where have you seen her?' demanded Nicholas.'Never mind, my dear boy,' retorted Noggs, clapping him on theshoulder. 'I have seen her. You shall see her. I've managed itall.''My dear Newman,' cried Nicholas, grasping his hand, 'are youserious?''I am,' replied Newman. 'I mean it all. Every word. You shall seeher tomorrow night. She consents to hear you speak for yourself. Ipersuaded her. She is all affability, goodness, sweetness, andbeauty.''I know she is; I know she must be, Newman!' said Nicholas, wringinghis hand.'You are right,' returned Newman.'Where does she live?' cried Nicholas. 'What have you learnt of herhistory? Has she a father--mother--any brothers--sisters? What didshe say? How came you to see her? Was she not very much surprised?Did you say how passionately I have longed to speak to her? Did youtell her where I had seen her? Did you tell her how, and when, andwhere, and how long, and how often, I have thought of that sweetface which came upon me in my bitterest distress like a glimpse ofsome better world--did you, Newman--did you?'Poor Noggs literally gasped for breath as this flood of questionsrushed upon him, and moved spasmodically in his chair at every freshinquiry, staring at Nicholas meanwhile with a most ludicrousexpression of perplexity.'No,' said Newman, 'I didn't tell her that.''Didn't tell her which?' asked Nicholas.'About the glimpse of the better world,' said Newman. 'I didn'ttell her who you were, either, or where you'd seen her. I said youloved her to distraction.''That's true, Newman,' replied Nicholas, with his characteristicvehemence. 'Heaven knows I do!''I said too, that you had admired her for a long time in secret,'said Newman.'Yes, yes. What did she say to that?' asked Nicholas.'Blushed,' said Newman.'To be sure. Of course she would,' said Nicholas approvingly.Newman then went on to say, that the young lady was an only child,that her mother was dead, that she resided with her father, and thatshe had been induced to allow her lover a secret interview, at theintercession of her servant, who had great influence with her. Hefurther related how it required much moving and great eloquence tobring the young lady to this pass; how it was expressly understoodthat she merely afforded Nicholas an opportunity of declaring hispassion; and how she by no means pledged herself to be favourablyimpressed with his attentions. The mystery of her visits to thebrothers Cheeryble remained wholly unexplained, for Newman had notalluded to them, either in his preliminary conversations with theservant or his subsequent interview with the mistress, merelyremarking that he had been instructed to watch the girl home andplead his young friend's cause, and not saying how far he hadfollowed her, or from what point. But Newman hinted that from whathad fallen from the confidante, he had been led to suspect that theyoung lady led a very miserable and unhappy life, under the strictcontrol of her only parent, who was of a violent and brutal temper;a circumstance which he thought might in some degree account, bothfor her having sought the protection and friendship of the brothers,and her suffering herself to be prevailed upon to grant the promisedinterview. The last he held to be a very logical deduction from thepremises, inasmuch as it was but natural to suppose that a younglady, whose present condition was so unenviable, would be more thancommonly desirous to change it.It appeared, on further questioning--for it was only by a very longand arduous process that all this could be got out of Newman Noggs--that Newman, in explanation of his shabby appearance, hadrepresented himself as being, for certain wise and indispensablepurposes connected with that intrigue, in disguise; and, beingquestioned how he had come to exceed his commission so far as toprocure an interview, he responded, that the lady appearing willingto grant it, he considered himself bound, both in duty andgallantry, to avail himself of such a golden means of enablingNicholas to prosecute his addresses. After these and all possiblequestions had been asked and answered twenty times over, theyparted, undertaking to meet on the following night at half-past ten,for the purpose of fulfilling the appointment; which was for eleveno'clock.'Things come about very strangely!' thought Nicholas, as he walkedhome. 'I never contemplated anything of this kind; never dreamt ofthe possibility of it. To know something of the life of one in whomI felt such interest; to see her in the street, to pass the house inwhich she lived, to meet her sometimes in her walks, to hope that aday might come when I might be in a condition to tell her of mylove, this was the utmost extent of my thoughts. Now, however--butI should be a fool, indeed, to repine at my own good fortune!'Still, Nicholas was dissatisfied; and there was more in thedissatisfaction than mere revulsion of feeling. He was angry withthe young lady for being so easily won, 'because,' reasonedNicholas, 'it is not as if she knew it was I, but it might have beenanybody,'--which was certainly not pleasant. The next moment, hewas angry with himself for entertaining such thoughts, arguing thatnothing but goodness could dwell in such a temple, and that thebehaviour of the brothers sufficiently showed the estimation inwhich they held her. 'The fact is, she's a mystery altogether,'said Nicholas. This was not more satisfactory than his previouscourse of reflection, and only drove him out upon a new sea ofspeculation and conjecture, where he tossed and tumbled, in greatdiscomfort of mind, until the clock struck ten, and the hour ofmeeting drew nigh.Nicholas had dressed himself with great care, and even Newman Noggshad trimmed himself up a little; his coat presenting the phenomenonof two consecutive buttons, and the supplementary pins beinginserted at tolerably regular intervals. He wore his hat, too, inthe newest taste, with a pocket-handkerchief in the crown, and atwisted end of it straggling out behind after the fashion of apigtail, though he could scarcely lay claim to the ingenuity ofinventing this latter decoration, inasmuch as he was utterlyunconscious of it: being in a nervous and excited condition whichrendered him quite insensible to everything but the great object ofthe expedition.They traversed the streets in profound silence; and after walking ata round pace for some distance, arrived in one, of a gloomyappearance and very little frequented, near the Edgeware Road.'Number twelve,' said Newman.'Oh!' replied Nicholas, looking about him.'Good street?' said Newman.'Yes,' returned Nicholas. 'Rather dull.'Newman made no answer to this remark, but, halting abruptly, plantedNicholas with his back to some area railings, and gave him tounderstand that he was to wait there, without moving hand or foot,until it was satisfactorily ascertained that the coast was clear.This done, Noggs limped away with great alacrity; looking over hisshoulder every instant, to make quite certain that Nicholas wasobeying his directions; and, ascending the steps of a house somehalf-dozen doors off, was lost to view.After a short delay, he reappeared, and limping back again, haltedmidway, and beckoned Nicholas to follow him.'Well?' said Nicholas, advancing towards him on tiptoe.'All right,' replied Newman, in high glee. 'All ready; nobody athome. Couldn't be better. Ha! ha!'With this fortifying assurance, he stole past a street-door, onwhich Nicholas caught a glimpse of a brass plate, with 'BOBSTER,' invery large letters; and, stopping at the area-gate, which was open,signed to his young friend to descend.'What the devil!' cried Nicholas, drawing back. 'Are we to sneakinto the kitchen, as if we came after the forks?''Hush!' replied Newman. 'Old Bobster--ferocious Turk. He'd kill'em all--box the young lady's ears--he does--often.''What!' cried Nicholas, in high wrath, 'do you mean to tell me thatany man would dare to box the ears of such a--'He had no time to sing the praises of his mistress, just then, forNewman gave him a gentle push which had nearly precipitated him tothe bottom of the area steps. Thinking it best to take the hint ingood part, Nicholas descended, without further remonstrance, butwith a countenance bespeaking anything rather than the hope andrapture of a passionate lover. Newman followed--he would havefollowed head first, but for the timely assistance of Nicholas--and,taking his hand, led him through a stone passage, profoundly dark,into a back-kitchen or cellar, of the blackest and most pitchyobscurity, where they stopped.'Well!' said Nicholas, in a discontented whisper, 'this is not all,I suppose, is it?''No, no,' rejoined Noggs; 'they'll be here directly. It's allright.''I am glad to hear it,' said Nicholas. 'I shouldn't have thoughtit, I confess.'They exchanged no further words, and there Nicholas stood, listeningto the loud breathing of Newman Noggs, and imagining that his noseseemed to glow like a red-hot coal, even in the midst of thedarkness which enshrouded them. Suddenly the sound of cautiousfootsteps attracted his ear, and directly afterwards a female voiceinquired if the gentleman was there.'Yes,' replied Nicholas, turning towards the corner from which thevoice proceeded. 'Who is that?''Only me, sir,' replied the voice. 'Now if you please, ma'am.'A gleam of light shone into the place, and presently the servantgirl appeared, bearing a light, and followed by her young mistress,who seemed to be overwhelmed by modesty and confusion.At sight of the young lady, Nicholas started and changed colour; hisheart beat violently, and he stood rooted to the spot. At thatinstant, and almost simultaneously with her arrival and that of thecandle, there was heard a loud and furious knocking at the street-door, which caused Newman Noggs to jump up, with great agility, froma beer-barrel on which he had been seated astride, and to exclaimabruptly, and with a face of ashy paleness, 'Bobster, by the Lord!'The young lady shrieked, the attendant wrung her hands, Nicholasgazed from one to the other in apparent stupefaction, and Newmanhurried to and fro, thrusting his hands into all his pocketssuccessively, and drawing out the linings of every one in the excessof his irresolution. It was but a moment, but the confusion crowdedinto that one moment no imagination can exaggerate.'Leave the house, for Heaven's sake! We have done wrong, we deserveit all,' cried the young lady. 'Leave the house, or I am ruined andundone for ever.''Will you hear me say but one word?' cried Nicholas. 'Only one. Iwill not detain you. Will you hear me say one word, in explanationof this mischance?'But Nicholas might as well have spoken to the wind, for the younglady, with distracted looks, hurried up the stairs. He would havefollowed her, but Newman, twisting his hand in his coat collar,dragged him towards the passage by which they had entered.'Let me go, Newman, in the Devil's name!' cried Nicholas. 'I mustspeak to her. I will! I will not leave this house without.''Reputation--character--violence--consider,' said Newman, clinginground him with both arms, and hurrying him away. 'Let them open thedoor. We'll go, as we came, directly it's shut. Come. This way.Here.'Overpowered by the remonstrances of Newman, and the tears andprayers of the girl, and the tremendous knocking above, which hadnever ceased, Nicholas allowed himself to be hurried off; and,precisely as Mr Bobster made his entrance by the street-door, he andNoggs made their exit by the area-gate.They hurried away, through several streets, without stopping orspeaking. At last, they halted and confronted each other with blankand rueful faces.'Never mind,' said Newman, gasping for breath. 'Don't be cast down.It's all right. More fortunate next time. It couldn't be helped.I did my part.''Excellently,' replied Nicholas, taking his hand. 'Excellently, andlike the true and zealous friend you are. Only--mind, I am notdisappointed, Newman, and feel just as much indebted to you--only itwas the wrong lady.''Eh?' cried Newman Noggs. 'Taken in by the servant?''Newman, Newman,' said Nicholas, laying his hand upon his shoulder:'it was the wrong servant too.'Newman's under-jaw dropped, and he gazed at Nicholas, with his soundeye fixed fast and motionless in his head.'Don't take it to heart,' said Nicholas; 'it's of no consequence;you see I don't care about it; you followed the wrong person, that'sall.'That was all. Whether Newman Noggs had looked round the pump, in aslanting direction, so long, that his sight became impaired; orwhether, finding that there was time to spare, he had recruitedhimself with a few drops of something stronger than the pump couldyield--by whatsoever means it had come to pass, this was hismistake. And Nicholas went home to brood upon it, and to meditateupon the charms of the unknown young lady, now as far beyond hisreach as ever.