`The jade!' said the same voice which had spoken before. `She's a true Nickleby -- a worthy imitator of her old uncle Ralph -- she hangs back to be more sought after -- so does he; nothing to be got out of Ralph unless you follow him up, and then the money comes doubly welcome, and the bargain doubly hard, for you're impatient and he isn't. Oh! infernal cunning.'
`Infernal cunning,' echoed two voices.
Nicholas was in a perfect agony as the two elderly gentlemen opposite, rose one after the other and went away, lest they should be the means of his losing one word of what was said. But the conversation was suspended as they withdrew, and resumed with even greater ******* when they had left the room.
`I am afraid,' said the younger gentleman, `that the old woman has grown jea-a-lous, and locked her up. Upon my soul it looks like it.'
`If they quarrel and little Nickleby goes home to her mother, so much the better,' said the first. `I can do anything with the old lady. She'll believe anything I tell her.'
`Egad that's true,' returned the other voice. `Ha, ha, ha! Poor deyvle!'
The laugh was taken up by the two voices which always came in together, and became general at Mrs Nickleby's expense. Nicholas turned burning hot with rage, but he commanded himself for the moment, and waited to hear more.
What he heard need not be repeated here. Suffice it that as the wine went round he heard enough to acquaint him with the characters and designs of those whose conversation he overhead; to possess him with the full extent of Ralph's villainy, and the real reason of his own presence being required in London. He heard all this and more. He heard his sister's sufferings derided, and her virtuous conduct jeered at and brutally misconstrued;he heard her name bandied from mouth to mouth, and herself made the subject of coarse and insolent wagers, free speech, and licentious jesting.
The man who had spoken first, led the conversation, and indeed almost engrossed it, being only stimulated from time to time by some slight observation from one or other of his companions. To him then Nicholas addressed himself when he was sufficiently composed to stand before the party, and force the words from his parched and scorching throat.
`Let me have a word with you, sir,' said Nicholas.
`With me, sir?' retorted Sir Mulberry Hawk, eyeing him in disdainful surprise.
`I said with you,' replied Nicholas, speaking with great difficulty, for his passion choked him.
`A mysterious stranger, upon my soul!' exclaimed Sir Mulberry, raising his wine-glass to his lips, and looking round upon his friends.
`Will you step apart with me for a few minutes, or do you refuse?' said Nicholas sternly.
Sir Mulberry merely paused in the act of drinking, and bade him either name his business or leave the table.
Nicholas drew a card from his pocket, and threw it before him.
`There, sir,' said Nicholas; `my business you will guess.'
A momentary expression of astonishment, not unmixed with some confusion, appeared in the face of Sir Mulberry as he read the name; but he subdued it in an instant, and tossing the card to Lord Verisopht, who sat opposite, drew a toothpick from a glass before him, and very leisurely applied it to his mouth.
`Your name and address?' said Nicholas, turning paler as his passion kindled.
I shall give you neither,' replied Sir Mulberry.
`If there is a gentleman in this party,' said Nicholas, looking round and scarcely able to make his white lips form the words, `he will acquaint me with the name and residence of this man.'
There was a dead silence.
`I am the brother of the young lady who has been the subject of conversation here,' said Nicholas. `I denounce this person as a liar, and impeach him as a coward. If he has a friend here, he will save him the disgrace of the paltry attempt to conceal his name -- and utterly useless one -- for I will find it out, nor leave him until I have.'
Sir Mulberry looked at him contemptuously, and, addressing his companions, said --`Let the fellow talk, I have nothing serious to say to boys of his station;and his pretty sister shall save him a broken head, if he talks till midnight.'
`You are a base and spiritless scoundrel!' said Nicholas, `and shall be proclaimed so to the world. I will know you; I will follow you home if you walk the streets till morning.'
Sir Mulberry's hand involuntarily closed upon the decanter, and he seemed for an instant about to launch it at the head of his challenger. But he only filled his glass, and laughed in derision.
Nicholas sat himself down, directly opposite to the party, and, summoning the waiter, paid his bill.
`Do you know that person's name?' he inquired of the man in an audible voice; pointing out Sir Mulberry as he put the question.
Sir Mulberry laughed again, and the two voices which had always spoken together, echoed the laugh; but rather feebly.
`That gentleman, sir?' replied the waiter, who, no doubt, knew his cue, and answered with just as little respect, and just as much impertinence as he could safely show: `no, sir, I do not, sir.'
`Here, you sir,' cried Sir Mulberry, as the man was retiring; `do you know that person's name?'
`Name, sir? No, sir.'
`Then you'll find it there,' said Sir Mulberry, throwing Nicholas's card towards him; `and when you have made yourself master of it, put that piece of pasteboard in the fire -- do you hear me?'
The man grinned, and, looking doubtfully at Nicholas, compromised the matter by sticking the card in the chimney-glass. Having done this, he retired.
Nicholas folded his arms, and biting his lip, sat perfectly quiet; sufficiently expressing by his manner, however, a firm determination to carry his threat of following Sir Mulberry home, into steady execution.