Название: Confessions Of Con Cregan, the Irish Gil Blas
Автор: Lever Charles James
Издательство: Public Domain
Жанр: Зарубежная классика
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Now, this was the very thing I had myself been doing, – actually eating “a steak without mustard!” What a mistake, and for one who believed himself to be in every respect conforming to the choicest usages of high life! What was to be done? The steak had disappeared; no matter, it was never too late to learn, and so I cried out, “Waiter, the mustard here!” in a voice that almost electrified the whole room.
I had scarcely concealed myself beneath my curtain, – “The Times,” – when the mustard was set down before me, with a humble apology for forgetfulness. I waited till he withdrew, and then helping myself to the unknown delicacy, proceeded to eat it, as the phrase is, “neat.” In my eagerness, I swallowed two or three mouthfuls before I felt its effects; and then a sensation of burning and choking seized upon me. My tongue seemed to swell to thrice its size; my eyes felt as if they would drop out of my head; while a tingling sensation, like “frying,” in my nostrils, almost drove me mad; so that after three or four seconds of silent agony, during which I experienced about ten years of torture, unable to endure more, I screamed out that “I was poisoned,” and, with wide-open mouth and staring eyes, ran down the coffee-room.
Never was seen such an uproar! Had an animal from a wild-beast menagerie appeared among the company, the consternation could scarce be greater; and in the mingled laughter and execrations might be traced the different moods of those who resented my intrusion. “Who is this fellow? How did he get in? What brought him here? What’s the matter with him?” poured in on all sides, – difficulties the head-waiter thought it better to deal with by a speedy expulsion than by any lengthened explanation.
“Get a policeman, Bob!” said he to the next in command; and the order was given loud enough to be heard by me.
“What the devil threw him amongst us?” said a testy-looking man in green spectacles.
“I came to dine, sir,” said I; “to have my steak and my pint of wine, as I hoped, in comfort, and as one might have it in a respectable tavern.”
A jolly burst of laughter stopped me, and I was obliged to wait for its subsidence to continue.
“Well, sir! I paid for my dinner – ”
“Is that true, Sam?” said a shrewd-looking man to the waiter.
“Quite true, sir! he paid four-and-sixpence, saying that the dinner was for a College gentleman.”
“I have been in College,” said I, coolly; “but no matter, the thing is simple enough: I am here in a house of public entertainment, the proprietors of which have accepted my money for a specific purpose; and putting aside the question whether they can refuse admission to any well-conducted individual (see Barnes versus MacTivell, in the 8th volume Term Reports; and Hobbes against Blinkerton, Soaker, and others, in the Appendix), I contend that my presence here is founded upon contract.”
Another and still louder roar of mirth again stopped me, and before I could resume, the company had gathered round me, in evident delight at my legal knowledge; and in particular, he of the spectacles, who was a well-known attorney of the Court of Conscience.
“That fellow’s a gem!” said he. “Hang me if he’s not equal to Bleatem! Sam, take care what you do; he ‘s the chap to have his action against you! I say, my man, come and sit down here, and let us have a little chat together.”
“Most willingly, sir,” responded I. “Waiter, bring my wine over to this table.” This was the signal for another shout, of which I did not deign to take the slightest notice.
“I’ll wager a hundred oysters,” exclaimed one of the party, among whom I now seated myself, “that I have seen him before! Tell me, my lad, didn’t you ride over the course yesterday, and cut out the work for Mr. Beatagh?”
I bowed an assent. “Who the devil is he?” cried two or three together; and my appearance and manner did not check the audible expression of this sentiment.
“A few words will suffice, gentlemen,” said I, “on that head. My father was an estated gentleman, of small, but unincumbered fortune, which he lost by an unfortunate speculation; he accordingly went abroad – ”
“To Norfolk Island!” suggested one, with a wink.
“Exactly,” responded I, “a Colonial appointment; leaving me, like Norval, not exactly on the Grampian Hills, but in a worse place, in the middle of the bog of Allen; my sole dependence being in certain legal studies I had once made, and a natural taste for getting forward in life; which, with a most enthusiastic appreciation of good company,” – here I bowed politely all round, – “are, I flatter myself, my chief characteristics.”
After a little, but most good-humored, quizzing about my present occupation and future prospects, they, with far more politeness than might be expected, turned the conversation upon other matters, and kindly permitted me to throw in from time to time my observations, – remarks which I could see, from their novelty, at least, seemed often to surprise them.
At length the hour of separating arrived, and I arose to bid the company good-night, which I performed with a very fair imitation of that quiet ease I had often studied in the young guardsmen about town.
“What do you bet that he has neither home to shelter him, nor bed to sleep on, this night?” whispered one to his neighbor.
“What are you writing there, Cox?” said another, to the keen-eyed man, who was pencilling something on a card.
“There, that’s my address, my boy, – 12, Stafford Street: Jeremiah Cox. Come to me about ten to-morrow.”
Another, while he was speaking, made an effort to slip a half-crown into my hand, – a measure I felt it becoming to decline with a prompt, but courteous, refusal. Indeed, I had so identified myself with the part I was performing that I flung down my only sixpence on the table for the waiter, and, with a last salutation to the honorable company, walked out. I have a perfect memory of every circumstance of the evening, and I recollect that my swaggering exit was as free from any semblance of concern or care as though a carriage waited for me outside to convey me to a luxurious home!
It has often been a fancy of mine through life to pass the entire of a summer night out of door; to wander either through the moonlit roads of some picturesque country, or in the still more solitary streets of a great city. I have always felt on these occasions as though one were “stealing a march” upon the sleeping world, – gaining so many more hours of thought and reflection, which the busy conflict of life renders so often difficult.
The hours of the night seem to typify so many stages of existence, – only reversing the natural order of age, and making the period of deep reflection precede the era of sanguine hope; for if the solemn closing in of the darkness suggests musing, so do the rosy tints and fresh air of breaking day inspire the warm hopefulness of youth. If “the daylight sinking” invites the secret communing of the heart, “the dawning of morn” glows with energetic purpose and bold endeavor.
To come back to myself. I left the tavern without a thought whither I should turn my steps. It was a calm night, with a starry sky and a mild, genial air, so that to pass the hours until morning without shelter was no great privation. One only resolve I had formed, – never to go back to Betty’s. I felt that I had sojourned over long in such companionship; СКАЧАТЬ