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I parted from him soon after, and it being then dinner time I was glad to find a tavern hard by the Temple Bar where I partook heartily of the excellent ordinary that is there maintained; and a little while afterwards Mr. Richard Malt entering (a son of the worthy hosier with whom I lodged), he entertained me with discourse of the comedies that were then playing at the public theatres, and of the famous players that were his friends; from all which I concluded that Mr. Richard would scarce make so diligent a hosier as his father, whom indeed he continually disparaged, terming him old buffle-head, and swearing he had never so much as heard of the "Arraignment of Paris" nor of "Campaspe" even; upon which I shrugged up my shoulders as who should say: Is such ignorance possible in this age? and determined to apply myself to some discreet person secretly, that should instruct me in all matters of the stage, without delay.

And so for that while did my uncle Botolph go clean out of my head.

CHAPTER VIII

A CHAPTER OF CHEATS

On the morrow I rose very contrite for the proneness of my mind towards pleasures, and calling to remembrance with an excessive sadness, that protestation of our bailiff's against stage-plays and ungodly shows. Indeed I began to fear lest Mr. Richard should prove altogether a perverter of my youth, and promised myself I would avoid his company henceforward, nor inquire any further after Campaspe and the rest. Which resolved upon, I felt joyfuller (as a man's recovered virtue doth generally induce that comfortable feeling) and took pleasure in the thought that I was this day to relieve the oppressed, and succour them that were in prison: or at least one of them.

But all these salutary thoughts broke a-scatter, when, chancing to cast an eye across the street, I saw my gallant that I had withstood yesterday, again set in his barber's chair, where he indolently reclined; and the barber dancing before him like a second David with razor for timbrel. An instant desire took me, to know who my late adversary might be (so that in any future debate I might have a name to clap villain to) and bethought me of an easy way whereby to satisfy myself. Having patiently awaited his departure therefore, I stole downstairs and over the lane; mounted to the barber's, three steps at once, and was in his chair demanding to be shaved ere a man could tell three score.

"Your worship does me a great honour," cried the antick fellow, "and I will dispatch your business in a trice," which he did, my beard being, I confess, no great thing as yet.

"Your house is well spoken of," I said carelessly, when he had done, and I stood cleansing my chin at the basin.

"It is well attended," he replied, bowing, "and that by the best."

"Tell me some that use it," I said in a meditative manner, "it may hap that I know them."

"There is John a Nokes," replied the barber, with alacrity, "that is host of the Chequers; but he comes hither no more. And there is Mr. Nicholas Lovel, that promised me he would come on Wednesday last, though indeed he failed so to do; and there is moreover the Master of the Worshipful Company of Painter Stainers whom I used to meet with at their great hall in Trinity Lane."

"And him you shave," said I, seeing that he paused there.

"Nay, for he hath a singular great beard," he said, "and when he sits in Council amidst his Company of the Painter Stainers there is none appeareth more lofty and worshipful than he. I have been a serving man there," he added with a conspicuous pride, "and worn their livery, so that it behoveth me to speak well of them, and to pray for their continuance in prosperity."

"That is all as it should be," quoth I, "but for my question, good master barber, I do not find you have answered it."

"Cry you mercy," said the little barber with an innocent air, "but methought I had answered you full and fairly."

"Hath any come hither this morning," I demanded, "besides myself?"

"It is still very early, sir," he replied, rubbing his hands together the while, "but I hope at noon, now, by the which hour as you know, a man's beard commenceth to prick sorely…"

"Hold!" I cried, "I speak not of your hopes, but of your performance. Have you shaved any man this day?"

"Oh, none, sir," he replied, as though it were a thing indecent, and I shocked him.

"You lie," said I coolly, "for one went forth but now."

The barber: "Surely you mistake, sir … but now I bethink me it was no doubt my lord of Pembroke."

"So then my lord of Pembroke serves my lord of Pembroke, belike," I answered, laughing sourly, "and weareth his cast suits, as did he that went hence."

I never saw a man so taken aback, and all his graces drooped about him like a sere garland.

"Come, sir," said I at length, in a great voice, for I was both wrathful at this fetch, and feared something behind it, "who is this black-a-vised tall man in brave apparel, that you shave each morning?"

"Oh, good Mr. Cleeve," he cried out trembling, but got no further, for I had him by the collar.

"Thou hast my name pat enough," said I, very low, and shifted my fingers to his throat, which I must have held pretty tight, seeing his face went black and his eyes started forth of it. "To the purpose," I proceeded and released my grasp somewhat.

He wrested himself loose and stood away gasping.

"Who is the tall man of the narrowed eyes and black complexion?" I demanded.

"I dare not tell," he whispered, and as it were shook that answer from his lips.

"He spies upon me, and uses thine house for that purpose," I said, and gathered certainty from the mere relation of my doubts. "But wherefore doth he so? That thou must tell me, master barber, and presently, else will I beat thee with thine own barber's staff."

I made as if to seize him again, but he backed off, howling.

"If you swear," he began, and seeing I paused, "you must swear by the Book," he said sharply, for I had squeezed his voice as thin as a knife; "and take what guilt of perjury should be mine in speaking."

I said I would vouchsafe not to reveal who it was that told me, but that was the extent of my promise; for the rest, I went in danger of my life, it seemed, or at least of my peace and quiet, which my absolute silence would but tend to confirm and increase.

The barber appeared satisfied of the justice of this, and having fetched out a Testament from a cupboard by the door, laid it open in my hand, but then again hesitated.

"This being so private a matter," he mumbled, "I will first bolt the door at the foot of the stair, and thereafter will let you into so great a secret"—he advanced his pinched and sallow face close to my own and let his voice fall so low that I could scarce hear him—"a secret so great that your blood shall run cold to hear it."

This coming so pat upon my suspicions, I promise you my blood ran cold at the sheer hint of it, and I suffered him to leave me and bolt the great door on the stair, in order to our more perfect privacy. And bolt the door indeed he did, but upon the wrong side of it; himself fleeing away in an extremity of apprehension lest (I suppose) I should get at his pulpy fat neck again and strangle him outright: which consideration moved him to put the door betwixt us while there was time; although I believe I should have burst it down despite its great thickness had it not been that the haberdasher's 'prentices heard me, and opened it from without. But the barber was clean gone by that, with his yellow face and his fulsome big secret and the devil to boot. The fellow's name was Pentecost Soper (so many syllables to so slight a man), and I have never set eyes on him since.

In no very good humour I returned to the family of the Malts and in ill case to be spoken to. Yet was I obliged to attend how Madam Malt's third (or fourth) daughter came to spill the small beer at breakfast yesterday, and the history being interrupted at the least a score of times by laughter and denials and (from the infant) by woeful lamentations, it fell out that I had concluded my meal while the tale still hung about the start, like an over-weighted galleon off a lee-shore; until at length Madam Malt (an indifferent mariner) confessed herself at fault, crying—

"But there! I will tell you all another time, Mr. Denis. It is a rare tale I warrant you, though Mistress Judith would have had me keep it secret; as a maid must have her secret, since time was a week gone in Genesis."

A day that had begun thus, with two secrets so necessary to be divulged as were the barber's and Mistress Judith's, was (had I known it) to issue in such horrid disclosures as were to change for me the whole course of my living, and indeed awhile to suspend upon a doubtful balance the very living itself. Consequent upon my promise to the old attorney, I made haste to repair to his lodging as early as I judged it proper to do so, and therefore after breakfast, it lacking then a little of nine o'clock, I put on my cloak and hat and set forth. One consideration I had as I walked, which had weighed heavily upon me since my last conference with him, and that was whether, and if so when, I should attempt to get speech of my uncle in prison. It seemed to me right, and indeed due both to my father and myself (looking to the hardships of my journey directly across England) that he should both know and thank us for the diligence we were using in his behalf; and it was to come at some means whereby I might procure this I had in view, that I intended to speak with Mr. Skene, no less than to conclude that we had already put in motion.

'Twas a foggy and thick morning, the weather having suddenly in the night passed from its extreme of cold into an opposite of mildness, so that the snow was almost everywhere thawed, and the streets foul and deep in mire. I was glad enough to turn out of Fleet Street, where every cart and passenger I met with left me more filthily besprent; so that twice or thrice I was like to have drawn upon some peaceable citizen that unawares had sent his vestige mud upon my new bosom. So hastening into the Inn yard I traversed it and was soon at Mr. Skene's door, where I knocked loudly and awaited him. The door was soon opened to me. "Is Mr. Skene within?" I asked; for he himself came not, as yesterday he had, but an ancient woman, in a soiled coif and apparel marvellous indecent, stood in the doorway.

"Lord! there be no Skenes here," she said in a harsh voice, "nor aught else but confusion and labour and sneaped wages, and they delayed. Skenes!" she ran on like a course of mill-water, "ay, Skenes and scalds and the quarten ague, and what doth the old fool live for, that was Ann by the Garlickhithe fifty year since, and worth nigh five-and-thirty marks or ever Tom Ducket beguiled her out of the virtuous way to the havoc of her salvation; with a murrain o' his like and small rest to their souls. A bright eye was mine then, master, that is dull now, and the bloom of a peach by the southward wall. But now 'tis age and a troubled mind that irks me, besides this pestering sort of knaves that live by the law. Ah! Garlickhithe was fair on a May morning once, lad, and the fairer, they told me, that Ann was fair featured who dwelt there."

I had suffered the old hag to rave thus far, out of mere astonishment. For how came it, I asked, that she who cleansed the chamber knew nothing of the man who occupied his business there. My brain faltered in its office, and I reeled under the weight of my fears.

"Who then uses these rooms?" I inquired when I could manage my words.

"None to-day nor to-morrow, I warrant, so foul it is," replied the old wife, and fell to work upon the floor again with her soused clouts, while she proceeded, "but the day after 'tis one Master Roman from Oxford removes hither to study at the law. Let him pay me my wages by the law, lawfully, as he shall answer for it at the Judgment, for I have been put to charges beyond belief in black soap (that is a halfpenny the pound in the shops at Bow), and let no one think I take less than fourpence by the day, for all I live on the Bank-side over against the Clink."

Without more ado I flung into the chamber past her, and running to the closet where my money was, had it open on the instant. But the first sight showed it to me quite bare. Nevertheless, I groped about the vacancy like a man mad (as I was indeed), crying out that I was infamously deceived and robbed of five hundred pound. Now searching thus distractedly, and without either method or precaution, I chanced to hit my leg a sore great blow against the iron of the latch, and opened my wound afresh which was not near healed, so that it bled very profusely. But this, although it weakened me, hindered me nothing, I continuing a great while after to turn all upside down and to bewail my loss and Skene's villainy that had undone me.

In the end, however, my fever of dismay abating a little or giving place to reason, I bethought myself of Mr. Wall, the goldsmith, to whom perhaps the attorney had thought it safer to convey the gold; and straightway therefore made off to his house on Cornhill, in a remnant of hope that my apprehensions should after all prove to be ill-grounded.

He saw me coming, I suppose, for he left his shop to greet me; but when he observed my infinite distress, he would listen to no word of mine until he had fetched forth a bottle of Rhenish, and made me drink of it. The good wine refreshed me mightily, as also, and indeed more, did the quiet behaviour of Mr. Wall, who counselled me wisely to rest myself first and after to confine myself to relating the bare matter without heat or flourish of any kind. "For out of an hot heart proceed many things inconvenient, as the Apostle plainly shewed," he said, "whereas out of a cold head proceedeth nothing but what is to the purpose, and generally profitable; at least in the way of business, Mr. Denis, I mean in the way of business, which is doubtless the cause of your honouring me again with your company."

Upon this I told him all, without passion, and directly as it had befallen. His face, as I spoke, gradually came to assume a deeper gravity, but he did not interrupt my narration, though I perceived that in part it was not altogether clear. When I had made an end he sat long, and then rising, went to his desk and returned to me with a paper, which was the same I had given to Skene on the yesterday.

"Do you acknowledge that for your hand, Mr. Denis?" he asked me briefly.

"It is mine," I replied wondering.

"Be pleased to read it," said he.

So in a trembling voice I read it aloud, word for word as I had writ it under Skene's direction; wherein I desired Mr. Wall that he would disburse to our attorney, as he should have need of them, such sums as should not in the total exceed five hundred pounds.

"And such was my intention," cried I, infinitely relieved to find all as I supposed it. But observing that the goldsmith regarded me something oddly, I added: "I mean that he required the gold, not in bulk, but in parcels from time to time; and as to that I took away yesterday, that you were to send for it again."

"You say not so here," said he very quietly.

But upon the instant he had said it, I perceived how the villain had used my letter, which was to double his booty already gotten; he having not restored the former sum I had meant this to be in the place of, but having even possessed himself of this treasure likewise. My inadvertent laxness of instruction (purposely so phrased by Skene himself) had given him the opportunity he sought, and I was now by my folly and misgiven trust, a thousand pounds upon the score in the goldsmith's books.

There was no occasion for argument betwixt us, where all was manifest enough, nor yet, by him, for empty expressions of regret, seeing he had but acted punctually upon my demand. For his pity, I had it, I knew, though Mr. Wall refrained himself from any expression of it. But another feeling he had, I could see, which was a doubt whether my father's credit was sufficient to bear this inordinately increased burden; nay, whether he would not repudiate the note I had so ineptly set hand to, staying his conscience on the satisfaction of his proper bond. I had my answer to that ready, had Mr. Wall proposed the question; but to his honour he did not. All he put in contribution to our debate related to Skene's presentation of my note, which being fairly written and legally expressed, he had neither reason nor scruple for withholding the loan. As for the bearer of the message, he was a gentleman of a very noble quiet manner, said Wall, and to this description of Skene I could not but consent.

In fine there being nought left to say, save on my part that I would immediately write an account of all to my father (whom I would not otherwise commit) we parted at the door, and I returned slowly through the great unfriendly City, sick at heart. Now I had not proceeded far upon my way when it came upon me that I would seek out my old tutor, Mr. Jordan; for I greatly yearned after comfort and kindly speech, which I knew would be his to give, upon the first hint of my misfortune. By good hap I remembered the lodging where he had said he might be found, which was in a room of a great house called Northumberland House in the parish, and over against the Church, of St. Katherine Colman; which mansion having fallen from its first estate (as many other within the City have done also) is now parted among such as do pay rent for their use of chambers therein, as few or many as they please.

Thither then I inquired out direction; but whether it were by reason of the intricacy of manifold streets and alleys, or of the mist that from first overcasting the sky had now descended and thickly muffled up even the considerable buildings, or else of the opening again of my wound that sorely sucked away my strength; I say whatsoever the cause were, I soon confessed myself at a stand and quite bewildered. And moreover to make bad worse, I perceived myself to have run into a foul and steep lane, of a most unsavoury stench; the way being nought else than a kennel pestered with garbage. None seemed to be inhabiting this unclean byway, or at the least not occupying their business in it; but the doors stood shut all, and the windows so guarded as one might think the plague had visited the place and died for lack of life to feed on.

Meanwhile the fog seemed to mitigate something of its blackness before me; and this it was, I suppose, that drove me still forward rather than by returning upon my steps to encounter the worst of it that yet hung like a pall between the desolate houses.

At length I issued at the bottom end into a sort of wide place or yard (for I could not rightly tell which it were, so dim all lay and I so confused by pain), but by a certain saltness in the air I guessed it might be near beside the river, and perhaps led down to one of the wharves or hithes thereupon. But that I was out of all bearing I knew, and the knowledge sank my courage utterly, so that I could no more, but sat down upon a stock by the wayside and wept for very bitterness.

I remember that I said it over like a creed an hundred times that I was alone, and although I said it not, it beat upon my brain that I was very near to death.

Soon after I seemed to stumble, and perhaps did indeed sink down from the timber I rested on; whereat, opening my eyes hastily, I saw face to face with me, a maid with the countenance of an angel, and an infinite compassion in her eyes. But the fever altogether had me then, so that what I report I may not now verify; yet methought she took me by the hands and raised me, saying (as to herself), "Dear heart, how chill he is," and then, "Lo! the hurt he hath, poor lad! and it not stanched but bleeding."

After that I must have swooned, for I remember no more; or at least not such as I believe did happen, though from the cloud of wild dreams that began to beset me there drew together as it were a masque of half-truth in a scene not wholly fantastick. For I stood again in the midst of a long and steep street, very dark and tempestuous, of which the houses falling together suddenly with a great noise formed a sort of rift or tunnel by which I might escape; and at the end of this length of ruin I perceived a pale blue light burning, to the which painfully groping my way I saw it was borne by a maid that came toward me; and all this while I heard a mighty rushing as of water, and voices mingled with it, loud and laughing. Then as the lass with the light approached me nearer I knew her for Madam Malt's third (or fourth) daughter, and the rushing sound I perceived to be the stream of small beer she had spilt; and the laughter grew and increased horribly and the light went out. And so, at length, I fell away into an inevitable and profound forgetfulness.