John was so very much astonished to find who his visitor was, that he could express no astonishment at all, by looks or otherwise, but left the room as if he were in the most placid and imperturbable of all possible conditions. It has been reported that when he got downstairs, he looked steadily at the boiler for ten minutes by the clock, and all that time never once left off shaking his head; for which statement there would seem to be some ground of truth and feasibility, inasmuch as that interval of time did certainly elapse, before he returned with Barnaby to the guest"s apartment.
"Come hither, lad," said Mr Chester. "You know Mr Geoffrey Haredale?"
Barnaby laughed, and looked at the landlord as though he would say, "You hear him?" John, who was greatly shocked at this breach of decorum, clapped his finger to his nose, and shook his head in mute remonstrance.
"He knows him, sir," said John, frowning aside at Barnaby, "as well as you or I do."
"I haven"t the pleasure of much acquaintance with the gentleman," returned his guest. "YOU may have. Limit the comparison to yourself, my friend."
Although this was said with the same easy affability, and the same smile, John felt himself put down, and laying the indignity at Barnaby"s door, determined to kick his raven, on the very first opportunity.
"Give that," said the guest, who had by this time sealed the note, and who beckoned his messenger towards him as he spoke, "into Mr Haredale"s own hands. Wait for an answer, and bring it back to me here. If you should find that Mr Haredale is engaged just now,tell him--can he remember a message, landlord?"
"When he chooses, sir," replied John. "He won"t forget this one."
"How are you sure of that?"
John merely pointed to him as he stood with his head bent forward, and his earnest gaze fixed closely on his questioner"s face; and nodded sagely.
"Tell him then, Barnaby, should he be engaged," said Mr Chester, "that I shall be glad to wait his convenience here, and to see him (if he will call) at any time this evening.--At the worst I can have a bed here, Willet, I suppose?"
Old John, immensely flattered by the personal notoriety implied in this familiar form of address, answered, with something like a knowing look, "I should believe you could, sir," and was turning over in his mind various forms of eulogium, with the view of selecting one appropriate to the qualities of his best bed, when his ideas were put to flight by Mr Chester giving Barnaby the letter, and bidding him make all speed away.
"Speed!" said Barnaby, folding the little packet in his breast, "Speed! If you want to see hurry and mystery, come here. Here!"
With that, he put his hand, very much to John Willet"s horror, on the guest"s fine broadcloth sleeve, and led him stealthily to the back window.
"Look down there," he said softly; "do you mark how they whisper in each other"s ears; then dance and leap, to make believe they are in sport? Do you see how they stop for a moment, when they think there is no one looking, and mutter among themselves again; and then how they roll and gambol, delighted with the mischief they"ve been plotting? Look at "em now. See how they whirl and plunge. And now they stop again, and whisper, cautiously together--little thinking, mind, how often I have lain upon the grass and watched them. I say what is it that they plot and hatch? Do you know?"
"They are only clothes," returned the guest, "such as we wear; hanging on those lines to dry, and fluttering in the wind."
"Clothes!" echoed Barnaby, looking close into his face, and falling quickly back. "Ha ha! Why, how much better to be silly, than as wise as you! You don"t see shadowy people there, like those that live in sleep--not you. Nor eyes in the knotted panes of glass, nor swift ghosts when it blows hard, nor do you hear voices in the air, nor see men stalking in the sky--not you! I lead a merrier life than you, with all your cleverness. You"re the dull men. We"re the bright ones. Ha! ha! I"ll not change with you, clever as you are,--not I!"
With that, he waved his hat above his head, and darted off. "A strange creature, upon my word!" said the guest, pulling out a handsome box, and taking a pinch of snuff.
"He wants imagination," said Mr Willet, very slowly, and after a long silence; "that"s what he wants. I"ve tried to instil it into him, many and many"s the time; but"--John added this in confidence-"he an"t made for it; that"s the fact."
To record that Mr Chester smiled at John"s remark would be little to the purpose, for he preserved the same conciliatory and pleasant look at all times. He drew his chair nearer to the fire though, as a kind of hint that he would prefer to be alone, and John, having no reasonable excuse for remaining, left him to himself.