书城小说巴纳比·拉奇
24289600000261

第261章 Chapter 81 (6)

It was a long time, too, before there was such a country inn as theMaypole, in all England: indeed it is a great question whetherthere has ever been such another to this hour, or ever will be. Itwas a long time too--for Never, as the proverb says, is a long day-before they forgot to have an interest in wounded soldiers at theMaypole, or before Joe omitted to refresh them, for the sake of hisold campaign; or before the serjeant left off looking in there, nowand then; or before they fatigued themselves, or each other, bytalking on these occasions of battles and sieges, and hard weatherand hard service, and a thousand things belonging to a soldier"slife. As to the great silver snuff-box which the King sent Joewith his own hand, because of his conduct in the Riots, what guestever went to the Maypole without putting finger and thumb into thatbox, and taking a great pinch, though he had never taken a pinch ofsnuff before, and almost sneezed himself into convulsions eventhen? As to the purple-faced vintner, where is the man who livedin those times and never saw HIM at the Maypole: to all appearanceas much at home in the best room, as if he lived there? And as tothe feastings and christenings, and revellings at Christmas, andcelebrations of birthdays, wedding-days, and all manner of days,both at the Maypole and the Golden Key,--if they are not notorious,what facts are?

Mr Willet the elder, having been by some extraordinary meanspossessed with the idea that Joe wanted to be married, and that itwould be well for him, his father, to retire into private life, andenable him to live in comfort, took up his abode in a small cottageat Chigwell; where they widened and enlarged the fireplace for him,hung up the boiler, and furthermore planted in the little gardenoutside the front-door, a fictitious Maypole; so that he was quiteat home directly. To this, his new habitation, Tom Cobb, PhilParkes, and Solomon Daisy went regularly every night: and in thechimney-corner, they all four quaffed, and smoked, and prosed, anddozed, as they had done of old. It being accidentally discoveredafter a short time that Mr Willet still appeared to considerhimself a landlord by profession, Joe provided him with a slate,upon which the old man regularly scored up vast accounts for meat,drink, and tobacco. As he grew older this passion increased uponhim; and it became his delight to chalk against the name of each ofhis cronies a sum of enormous magnitude, and impossible to be paid:

and such was his secret joy in these entries, that he would beperpetually seen going behind the door to look at them, and comingforth again, suffused with the liveliest satisfaction.

He never recovered the surprise the Rioters had given him, andremained in the same mental condition down to the last moment ofhis life. It was like to have been brought to a speedytermination by the first sight of his first grandchild, whichappeared to fill him with the belief that some alarming miracle hadhappened to Joe. Being promptly blooded, however, by a skilfulsurgeon, he rallied; and although the doctors all agreed, on hisbeing attacked with symptoms of apoplexy six months afterwards,that he ought to die, and took it very ill that he did not, heremained alive--possibly on account of his constitutional slowness-fornearly seven years more, when he was one morning foundspeechless in his bed. He lay in this state, free from all tokensof uneasiness, for a whole week, when he was suddenly restored toconsciousness by hearing the nurse whisper in his son"s ear that hewas going. "I"m a-going, Joseph," said Mr Willet, turning roundupon the instant, "to the Salwanners"--and immediately gave upthe ghost.

He left a large sum of money behind him; even more than he wassupposed to have been worth, although the neighbours, according tothe custom of mankind in calculating the wealth that other peopleought to have saved, had estimated his property in good roundnumbers. Joe inherited the whole; so that he became a man of greatconsequence in those parts, and was perfectly independent.

Some time elapsed before Barnaby got the better of the shock he hadsustained, or regained his old health and gaiety. But he recoveredby degrees: and although he could never separate his condemnationand escape from the idea of a terrific dream, he became, in otherrespects, more rational. Dating from the time of his recovery, hehad a better memory and greater steadiness of purpose; but a darkcloud overhung his whole previous existence, and never clearedaway.

He was not the less happy for this, for his love of freedom andinterest in all that moved or grew, or had its being in theelements, remained to him unimpaired. He lived with his mother onthe Maypole farm, tending the poultry and the cattle, working in agarden of his own, and helping everywhere. He was known to everybird and beast about the place, and had a name for every one.

Never was there a lighter-hearted husbandman, a creature morepopular with young and old, a blither or more happy soul thanBarnaby; and though he was free to ramble where he would, he neverquitted Her, but was for evermore her stay and comfort.

It was remarkable that although he had that dim sense of the past,he sought out Hugh"s dog, and took him under his care; and that henever could be tempted into London. When the Riots were many yearsold, and Edward and his wife came back to England with a familyalmost as numerous as Dolly"s, and one day appeared at the Maypoleporch, he knew them instantly, and wept and leaped for joy. Butneither to visit them, nor on any other pretence, no matter howfull of promise and enjoyment, could he be persuaded to set foot inthe streets: nor did he ever conquer this repugnance or look uponthe town again.

Grip soon recovered his looks, and became as glossy and sleek asever. But he was profoundly silent. Whether he had forgotten theart of Polite Conversation in Newgate, or had made a vow in thosetroubled times to forego, for a period, the display of hisaccomplishments, is matter of uncertainty; but certain it is thatfor a whole year he never indulged in any other sound than a grave,decorous croak. At the expiration of that term, the morning beingvery bright and sunny, he was heard to address himself to thehorses in the stable, upon the subject of the Kettle, so oftenmentioned in these pages; and before the witness who overheard himcould run into the house with the intelligence, and add to it uponhis solemn affirmation the statement that he had heard him laugh,the bird himself advanced with fantastic steps to the very door ofthe bar, and there cried, "I"m a devil, I"m a devil, I"m a devil!"

with extraordinary rapture.

From that period (although he was supposed to be much affected by the death of Mr Willet senior), he constantly practised and improved himself in the vulgar tongue; and, as he was a mere infant for a raven when Barnaby was grey, he has very probably gone on talking to the present time.

End