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 THE COMMISSIONER 
 
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 Mt Hunatito Cnquitenlro. 
 
 WITH 
 
 TWENTY-EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS ON STEEL 
 
 BY 
 
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 DUBLIN 
 WILLIAM CURRY, JUN. AND COMPANY. 
 
 WILLIAM S. ORR AND COMPANY, LONDON. 
 FRASER AND CO. EDINBURGH. 
 
 1843. 
 
DUBLIN 
 PRINTED BY J. S. FOLDS, SON, AND PATTON, 
 
 5, Bachelor'8-walk. 
 
CO 
 
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 TC 
 
 THAT ILLUSTRIOUS BODY, 
 
 THE FAULTS, FOLLIES, AND YICES 
 
 OP 
 
 THIS FAINT AND INADEQUATE ATTEMPT 
 
 TO PLACE IN 
 
 THE PROMINENT SITUATION WHICH THEY DESERVE, 
 
 A FEW OF THE PRINCIPAL MEMBERS 
 
 OP 
 
 THAT NUMEROUS AND REMARKABLE BAND, 
 
 IS DEDICATED, 
 
 WITH A MOST PROFOUND SENSE OF THEIR MERITS, 
 
 BY 
 THEIR MOST HUMBLE AND OBEDIENT SERVANT, 
 
 K. F. M. 
 
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 fee. &c. &c. 
 
 537 
 
PREFACE, 
 
 Sweet Public ! 
 
 In presenting you with the first part of the Travels of the 
 Chevalier de Lunatico, which was intrusted to our care by that won- 
 derful and distinguished diplomatist, in order to be properly prepared 
 for the press, we feel it necessary to make some apology for not 
 having, in every instance, with that true lunatic deference to public 
 opinion, whether right or wrong, which is the characteristic of the 
 present day, followed exactly every indication that we received of your 
 views and wishes. The misfortune, however, was, that we could not 
 at all discover which way public opinion tended, though we watched 
 with the utmost anxiety and attention every intimation that might be 
 given us by the daily and weekly papers. But we found that the 
 public press was not only at variance in regard to this book amongst 
 its own members — some declaring it flat, stale, and unprofitable, 
 without fun, wit, taste, talent, or learning ; whilst others pronounced 
 it to be the acme of human wisdom, full of brilliancy, fancy, judgment, 
 genius, and instruction — but also that its opinion at different times, 
 varied from its opinion at others ; the very same persons vituperating 
 it virulently at one moment, and at another lauding it to the skies. 
 Such being the case, it may be very well conceived that we were sadly 
 at a loss how to proceed, believing, nay knowing — and now we speak 
 seriously — that upon the weekly and daily press of England there is 
 employed a greater amount of talent, learning, and judgment than 
 probably any other country has ever brought to bear upon any great 
 operation. Left without guide, then, we have done what we fear we 
 might have done if we had had a whole regiment of guides, like the 
 French army in Algeria — namely, followed our own course, feeling 
 
VI - PREFACE. 
 
 somewhat sure that, sooner or later, in one part or another, that 
 course will please the reader also, whenever it does not shock or irritate 
 bis own particular foUies, vices, vanities, and prejudices. 
 
 Receive our book, therefore, reader, with kindness ; but first— if we 
 may be permitted a figure — wash your eyes well with cold water before 
 you read it, and rub your spectacles with a piece of chamois leather or 
 a silk handkerchief; for as the medium is, so will be the colours th-at 
 you see. If you do this, we have very little to fear, and leave the 
 rest to your own good judgment. " Ego me tvxe commendo et committo 
 fideir 
 
 On one point, however^ we must pause for a single moment; we 
 have received letters innumerable, anonymous and ominous, charging 
 us with having attempted to bring great personages into contempt, and 
 to satirize individuals. Now, once for all, we deny the imputation, 
 and assert most distinctly, as we have before asserted, that we have not 
 attempted to paint or depict any single individual person now living. 
 The vices, the faults, and the madnesses of many may here be a little 
 scarified, it is true, and many a man may be perfectly conscious of 
 having several of the weaknesses and follies portrayed in some of our 
 personages ; but he must not for a moment suppose that we had him 
 in our eye, when we took the pencil in hand. The Commissioner's 
 foolscap may, and doubtless will, fit a great many people in this good 
 world of ours ; but he begs leave to say that as his is a ready-made 
 shop, the parties must try them on themselves, for he can assure them 
 'hey were not made for them. In short, as the beautiful Aurora 
 Borealis is probably nothing but a ray of galvanic light projected into 
 space, so, dear reader, we wish this to be merely a ray of mental 
 light, sent forth into the void of the world, to enable a few of our 
 fellow-creatures to see how horrible and deformed are some of the 
 'ireatures they have made pets of in the dark ; and with this distinct 
 assurance, we shall now say. Vale. 
 
 St. Luke's, 1st November, 1842. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 TAflB 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The Chevalier de Lunatico speaks of things in his own sphere — Gives a 
 glance at the political constitution of the moon— The opinions of several 
 statesmen of things in general — The origin and nature of the lunar 
 commission — The ambassador is fnvested with extraordinary powers — 
 Some account of his journey «... 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The chevalier's first acquaintance — Finds him to be a doubtful character — 
 Two lovers introduced to the chevalier — A new sort of pickpocket — 
 Schemes of life — An old gentleman's view of a young lady's happiness 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The chevalier finds himself in an awkward but common predicament — 
 Inquires curiously into the nature of love— An invitation to a ball — The 
 reasonableness of duelling demonstrated — The chevalier and the lover 
 take an afternoon's ride — Whom we should marry and whom we should not — 
 The previous history of one of the characters — The renowned Joey Pike 
 is made acquainted with the reader, as well as Mrs. Muggins — Some more 
 of the Worrel chronicles — The chevalier takes a moonlight ride, and 
 meets with a soft solicitor on the king's highway . . .18 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The chevalier proposes a new way of stopping highway robbery — He is in- 
 troduced to some gentlemen of rank and consequence — Finds the soft 
 solicitor in an unexpected situation . . . .33 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A conversation apart — The peer indulges some of his propensities — Some 
 business discussed — Mr. Fitzurse finds himself out of spirits — The peer 
 has doubts as to his son's sobriety . . .38 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Jerry Tripe displays his principles — An inquiry into frolics — Joey Pike 
 meets with promotion — An early walk that is not good for digestion — The 
 principal, the second, and the bottle-holder • • .42 
 
y^{ CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A mistaken pursuit — The ends and objects of fox-hunting — The lover's 
 return ....... 
 
 48 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A new history of an old parish clerk — Scenes of domestic felicity — Some 
 pleasant conversation, ending with the last act of most tragedies — Joey 
 Pike finds a friend wanting in spirit . • . .52 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Mr. Longmore proves that he can be an unpleasant companion — The che- 
 valier's diplomatic benignity — The natural philosopher fails in setting the 
 Thames on fire, but succeeds with his own house — Laura gets out of the 
 ^Ting-pan in the usual manner . . . • 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 "Wherein the burning of Mr. Longmore's house is compared to another cele- 
 brated conflagration — Jerry Tripe proves captivating, and the chevalier, 
 accompanied by his friends, is provided with a conveyance from the scene 
 of action — Jerry finds that a diamond can sometimes cut a diamond, and 
 shows that he is fertile in resoui'cea — The advantages of being in the same 
 basket with an enemy . . . . .66 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Some suspicion of a ghost — A scene of sorrow — The benevolent railer • 71 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Some of the notions of Mr. Longshanks — An illustration of free will and 
 predestination . . . . . .78 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Joey Pike eats an imprudent supper — A new comparison for sleep — Joey's 
 vision ! — His somnambulistic exercitations — Where he went to, and what 
 he did there — A discussion upon the clothing of ghosts — The wanderer's 
 return . . • . . . .83 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The chevalier recovers his portmanteau — Mr. Longmore, like a great 
 statesman, devours his opinions — The charity of our dear friends — Joey 
 Pike cuts an unpleasant acquaintance — Finds a friend in need and makes 
 his appearance on the stage . . . . .87 
 
CONTENTS. ix 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The shortest chapter in the book — The one that loved him — The last scene 
 of a tragedy . . . . . .94 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Fitzurse redivivus — The corpse discovers the cause of his ailment — The 
 peer hits upon a plan — Jerry Tripe sails under sealed orders — The ser- 
 vants suspect their lord of cerebral disturbance — A second scene out of 
 Tom Thumb . . . . . .97 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The fugitive thought* of Joey Pike — The chevalier takes a roll after break- 
 fast — The chevalier obtains his first view of London by night — The author 
 thereupon addresses the gods and goddesses, in order to mystify the 
 reader, and be mistaken for an old Greek — A catalogue of sights — 
 Worrel makes an uncivil comparison — The chevalier agrees, and puts up 
 at the Golden Cross. ..... 101 
 
 CHAPTER XVIil. 
 
 The writer defends himself against anticipated reproaches — How Laura 
 Longmore happened to come whither she did come — Laura dislikes her 
 situation — The viscount begins to have doubts as to the pleasantness of 
 his own — The speeches of his satellites relieve him — He evinces the 
 frankness of his nature — The evasion of certain prisoners renews the peer's 
 embarrassment — He is relieved again by the profound wisdom of Tom 
 Hamilton . . . . . . .106 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 An inquest on the corpse of a living man — A new use is discovered for a 
 table napkin — A juror is disappointed of his lawful seat — The viewing of 
 the body and the merry mourners — Tom Hamilton takes out a diploma — 
 The peer and his friend fire hot shot at each other — The jury decide upon 
 their verdict . . . . . .Ill 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 The Chevalier de Lunatico takes an early walk — Some of his first impres- 
 sions of London reported — Joey Pike recovered — The chevalier entertains 
 a beggar, and is invited by a reviewer . . . ,118 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 4l question regarding Laura Longmore answered — She is forgotten by those 
 who ought to have remembered her — She applies to the bell, and produces 
 two maid servants — The reason why the maids in Outrun Castle hunted 
 in couples — Laura passes a dull day and finds the night cold — She re- 
 verses the proposition of giving up the ghost — In her spiritual capacity she 
 knocks down Jerry Tripe and strikes a spark out of him . . 123 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 The evils of lackeyism — A discourse with the minister — Argumentation 
 upon ways and means — The sweets of office . . .129 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 One system of reviewing — Worrel hints that there are other ones and 
 better — A visit to a police office — Worshipful equity — News from the 
 country — The chevalier begins to see day light . . .134 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 The chevalier states his suspicions — Joey Pike makes a proposition — Ho 
 voluntarily places himself in straitened circumstances — The composition 
 of a young lady — Mademoiselle Brochet appears upon the stage — She 
 meets with some ready-made love — Visits the village of Outran — 
 Astounds Mrs. Muggins and becomes popular. . , , 140 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Mr. Longshanks preaches without ordination — Mr. Longmore objects to one 
 of ihe qualities of a ghost — Widow Bain stands up in defence of one 
 apparition, and meets with a more substantial one than she expected . 146 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 An inquiry into the moral condition of Mrs. Scapulary — She confers with a 
 friend who helped her at a pinch — He says sweet things to the widow — 
 She expresses her apprehensions and finally draws a secret from him — 
 Mademoiselle Brochet treads upon the heels of the secret — She alarms 
 and puzzles Mrs. Scapulary — The widow prepares the way for putting 
 her friend in a state of suspense — She makes a mistake in regard to time 
 and place ....... 150 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Laura Longmore in bed — What may be suggested by a dream — The plea- 
 sures of mooncalfing — An essay upon laughs — Laura has an interview 
 with the peer, and seizes an opportunity of proving to her father that she 
 was less combustible than he thought her — She resumes the ghost — ^inter- 
 rupts a tite-d-tite, and gives a piece of wholesome advice . . 164 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 The peer expresses his opinion upon spirits — He at length has recourse to 
 one himself — Mr. Fitzurse objects to being buried alive, but consents to 
 walk at his own funeral — He undertakes a capital j-ourney — Tom Hamilton 
 fishes, and catches a larger fish than he expected — He moralises and 
 exhorts ....... 161 
 
CONTENTS. XI 
 
 PAGE 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Mr. de Lunatico dines in good company — Some opinions upon politics and 
 cookery — The chevalier fulfils his mission — He returns home and hears 
 some pleasant news . . . . . .168 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Jerry Tripe is raised to the post of ambassador — The qualifications of a 
 monosyllable — Mr. Tripe, like all wise plenipotentiaries, takes a high 
 position — Love brings him low — He commits a faux-paSy which proves a 
 diity business — He is rescued and consoled . . . .177 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 Tom's ghost story — How Thomas Hamilton, Esq. kept up his courage — 
 How he carried it up stairs spilling some by the way — How he had a 
 striking proof of the substantiality of a spirit . . . 186 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 The chevalier, "Worrel, and Mr. Longmore, conspire to go to a ball— Civic 
 festivities — The chevalier differs with Terpsichore, and forms his own 
 opinion of dancing — Mr. Longmore stands up in defence of the fantastic 
 toe — A civic magistrate's ideas of rising in the world — an unexpected 
 guest — Mr. Fitzurse finds himself more dead than alive — He is not treated 
 with posthumous honours — But makes his escape in great fear of the 
 nominative case, neuter gender, of the relative pronoun — The chevalier 
 is introduced to Alderman Rotundity, who proves somewhat too classical 
 — He gives information and an invitation 1 . . . \QZ 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 The chevalier proves very inviting — The battle of the chariots — The 
 chevalier undervalues the London police — He risks his reputation — The 
 story of Betsy Trollop . . . . .200 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 The metropolis abandoned — Rotundity Court — Some new geological disco- 
 veries — Classical tastes — Unde derivatur . . • 207 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 Tom Hamilton delivers a ghastly message — He proves himself a connoisseur 
 in spirits — A ghost-trap set — The muster of maidens — A rebellion in 
 petticoats ...... 213 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 A ghost can be in a fright — Laura begins to doubt the safety of her pro- 
 ceedings — Difficulties unprovided for — A nocturnal visitant — Mademoiselle 
 Brochet appears, and puts the shoe upon the right horse — Laura dreams 
 
xii CONTENTS. 
 
 of matrimony without love — Mademoiselle Brochet finds a likeness for 
 herself — Laura does not follow the example of love in laughing at lock- 
 smiths Mademoiselle Brochet conducts her into the porch of the Tripeiau 
 
 Temple, and discovers an important letter to which she puts the finishing 
 stroke — Jerry Tripe awakes inopportunely . . . 219 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 A dinner-party- — The incubus of the parish — Mr. Deputy Popeseye — The 
 use of snuff — Pleasant conversation — " Mock turtle" — The wisdom of 
 playing at cards — Lunar accommodation for gamblers — A voice from 
 without ....... 226 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 Which shows how the viscount was seized with a propensity which he had 
 forsworn — How Jerry Tripe disarmed his wrath — The horrors of a butler's 
 dream — A ghost trap — And what was in it. . . , 233 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 The author descants, and sadly abuses the patience of the reader — He 
 returns, "a ses premiers amours" — An unpleasant predicament for a 
 young lady — Joey Pike himself confounded — The mouse and the lion . 238 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 A cook's revenge — The evils of suspicion — An empty nest and a flown 
 bird ...... 246 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 Mademoiselle Brochet obtains new lights — The unconscious witnesses — The 
 repose of widowhood disturbed — The retaliation — The secrets of the 
 bandbox in danger — Laura found and lost — Ill-requited chivalry . 260 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 Laura Longmore reckons with fortune — But reckons without her host — 
 A quoi reveni les jeunes files — An unwelcome visitor — The flight and 
 pursuit — A second trap — Caught at last .... 257 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 The fate of Mr. Longshanks — The state of his relations with his horse — 
 Mr. Smalldram re-appears de profundis — Mr. Longshanks misapprehends 
 the disorder of his patient — He searches for occult effects and meets with 
 some sad spectacles . . . ^ . , 262 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 Joey Pike finds the stile in possession of spirits not ethereal — An etymolo- 
 gical discussion of a diabolical nature — The valour of Joseph — He passes 
 the breach — Retreats not without loss — Rallies — Repulses the enemy— 
 Performs various feats of strategy — Fate proves perversely adverse . 269 
 
CONTENTS. Xm 
 
 PAOB 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 Laura in her prison — The return of the madman — Their flight — Glimpses 
 of a sad story — Laura's escape .... 274 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 Mademoiselle Brochet falls out of the frying-pan into the fire — How to 
 mystify a justice — Prison recreations — Joey's discoveries — A proposal . 279 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 The viscount sinks into poetry — The heir's return — Literary friends — A 
 recognition — The poet — And his audience . . . 289 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 The horns of a dilemma — A fire-eating acquaintance — Mr. Fitzurse chooses 
 between the deaths and marriages — The cruelty of Thomas Hamilton, Esq. 297 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 The chevalier turns missionary — His principles of action towards a horse — 
 He holds a conversation with Mr. Longshanks upon a grave subject — 
 — A medico-physiological discussion — A hint upon Tripe . . 303 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 Mr. Darius composes a history — His birth, parentage, and education — Jane 
 differs with him on a point of longitude — A new reason for a Christian 
 name — Travels through many lands — The war-dance of the Tonga 
 Islands — Mr. Fitzurse rescued from scalping . . . 309 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 An afficted family — The progress of a cook's revenge — New use of an 
 alarm-bell — Restored tranquillity — The chevalier puts various things 
 together — A butler's heroism . . . . .316 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 Notis revenons a nos moutons — The reader is instructed in the way to get on 
 — Laura entertains aristocratical notions — What is produced in the epi- 
 gastric region of fancy footmen — A tall man does towards her what most 
 mortals do towards themselves, mistakes her wants — How to judge of a 
 man's master ...... 
 
 CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 The temper of moonlight — A corn-law lecture — The chevalier in the way 
 — Mr. Darius undertakes more than he can manage — A shocking 
 mistake . , . . . . , . 3^ 
 
XIV CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 Left in the lurch — The peer's magnanimity — The mistake confirmed — 
 The march of the forces — Hunt the hare — Jerry caught . . 330 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 The fortress summoned — A parley — A new way of teaching magistrates to 
 consider a question coolly — Hard conditions — The surprise . . 335 
 
 CHAPTER LVI. 
 
 Mademoiselle Brochet in prison — The way innocent people may be treated 
 in England — Joey's despair — Tripe to the rescue . . .341 
 
 CHAPTER LVII. 
 
 A number of old gentlemen brought to bed-r-The chevalier makes Mrs. 
 Muggins confess she has a secret — An essay upon the virtues of fancy 
 footmen resumed ...... 346 
 
 CHAPTER LVIII. 
 
 Joey Pike recovers spirits — His own account of himself— Tripe on magis- 
 terial appointments — An essay on suspended animation . . 363 
 
 CHAPTER LIX. 
 
 An essay upon force of character — Mr. Longshanks makes use of punch in a 
 way it was never used before — He is over-confident — Joey Pikes takes an 
 airing — He forgets his promise — A constable kills a pig in single combat 358 
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 Mr. Longshanks proved in the wrong — The fugitive discovered — The peer's 
 resolve — ^Laura deceived . . . . .361 
 
 CHAPTER LXI. 
 
 The boys of Outrun display the peculiarities of boys in other places — Mr. 
 Longshanks discourses upon devil *s drops — Mr. Puddenstream shows his 
 aversion for truth— The saddle is put upon the right horse . . 365 
 
 CHAPTER LXII. 
 
 Mr. Fitzurse finds himself in danger — The great Darius explains his notions 
 gastronomic — Tom Hamilton acts paranymph — His galloping meditations 
 — He does battle against odds — A Friend in "need — Some account of Mr. 
 Smalldram previous to his capture. , . . . 375 
 
CONTENTS. XV 
 
 CHAPTER LXII] 
 
 How Laura's hopes rested upon her father's adhesive qualities — How she and 
 her companion were rejoined by the madman — An accident which proved to 
 Laura some more of the evils of getting on too fast — How her history got 
 to its last stage, and the hopes of her house were overturned . . 386 
 
 CHAPTER LXIV. 
 
 A black-hole escape — Assassination tables proposed — Mr. Smalldram thrown 
 oflF his guard — A duel interrupted — The chevalier and Mr. Tripe come to 
 an understanding ...... 388 
 
 CHAPTER LXV. 
 
 The undeserved misfortunes of Viscount Outrun — The eulogium of good 
 nature — Joey Pike asserts his claims — They are admitted by the viscount 
 — ^A day after the fair — His lordship's magnanimity . . 393 
 
 CHAPTER LXVI. 
 
 The dark hints of Tom Hamilton — The axioms of Mrs. Muggins — The 
 reflections of the chevalier — The bridal procession — The discomfiture of 
 the magistracy — The eloquence of the peer . . . 400 
 
 CHAPTER LXVII. 
 
 How the chevalier and Mr. Longmore heard news of Laura — How the che- 
 valier gave the go-by to the magistrates — A disquisition upon fleas'-knees 
 and kangaroos' tails — The siege and defence of Miss Rotundity, and how 
 her fortress was succoured ..... 406 
 
 CHAPTER LXVIII. 
 
 How the peer showed his fancies for junketing — How Tom Hamilton and 
 Harry Worrel were made friends — How Jerry Tripe was freed from his 
 peril, and how Mr. Darius incited him to some unknown species of assas- 
 sination ....... 412 
 
 CHAPTER LXIX. 
 
 How Joey Pike assumed his dignity — How the truth came out — How Harry 
 Worrel received great benefit from Thomas Hamilton, Esq. — And how he 
 appeared in a new character ..... 416 
 
 CHAPTER LXX. 
 
 The lamentable condition of Mr. Pike — The relief he received from the con- 
 descension of the peer — Mr. Darius in his glory — How the festivities of 
 Outrun Castle had a tragic conclusion, and the glory of Mr. Darius waa 
 turned into shame ....•• 424 
 
 CHAPTER LXXI. 
 
 How the peer consoled himself for the misfortunes which had befallen him — 
 The last flare-up at Outrun Castle .... 431 
 
 CHAPTER LXXII. 
 
 How the story came to an end — How Harry Worrel married Laura Long- 
 more — Mr. Scapulary's property enriched Joey Pike — Betsy Trollop was 
 provided for — Mr. Smalldramvand Mrs. Scapulary hanged — and every body 
 very happy ...... 438 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 The Marriage . 
 
 The Chevalier's first game at bowls 
 
 The Visit to the Half Moon 
 
 The Duel ..... 
 
 The Hunt ..... 
 
 Mr. Tripe fuddles the constables 
 
 The Somnambulist .... 
 
 Resurrection of Mr. Fitzurse 
 
 Jerry Tripe meets with a spirit not to his taste . 
 
 Joey Pike undergoing transformationg 
 
 Joe's walk down the Strand 
 
 The Morning Call ..... 
 
 Jerry Tripe's Bath .... 
 
 Mr. Fitzurse treated with posthumous honours 
 
 The Revolt of the Petticoats 
 
 The Outrun Phalanx in marching disorder 
 
 The disagreeable effects of aggrawating a cook . 
 
 Miss Brochet discomforting her pursuers 
 
 Joey entrapped ..... 
 
 Fitzurse redivivus . • . . . 
 
 The Tonga Dance .... 
 
 A Hunt after Tripe .... 
 
 The Outrun Fire-tank .... 
 
 Mr. Fitzurse horrified and terrified at the appetite of Mr. Darius 
 
 Tom Hamilton to the rescue . . 
 
 Joey embraces his uncle .... 
 
 Miss Rotundity shows fight 
 
 Death of Fitzurse ..... 
 
 PAOK 
 FBONTISPIECE 
 
 . 10 
 
 28 
 
 . 46 
 
 49 
 
 . 70 
 
 87 
 
 . 97 
 
 128 
 . 141 
 
 142 
 . 180 
 
 183 
 . 197 
 
 218 
 . 236 
 
 246 
 . 271 
 
 273 
 . 291 
 
 314 
 . 334 
 
 337 
 . 376 
 
 379 
 . 396 
 
 409 
 . 428 
 
THE COMMISSIONER ; 
 
 OB, 
 
 DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 THE CHEVALIER DE LUNATICO SPEAKS OF THINGS IN HIS OWN SPHERE — GIVES 
 
 A GLANCE OF THE POLITICAL CONSTITUTION OF THE MOON THE OPINION 
 
 OF SEVERAL STATESMEN OF THINGS IN GENERAL THE ORIGIN AND NATURE OF 
 
 THE LUNAR COMMISSION THE AMBASSADOR IS INVESTED WITH KXTBA0BDINAB7 
 
 POWERS SOME ACCOUNT OF HIS JOUBNET. 
 
 Whereas La JRevue des Deux Mondes, will doubtless expect, that I 
 should address myself to the inhabitants of both the spheres with which 
 I have had to do ; I must, contrary to the usual custom of authors, 
 and especially in opposition to the rule laid down by the great poet 
 Horace, begin my story at the beginning. 
 
 On the twenty-seventh day of the week, then, in the sixteen million- 
 eth year of the moon's revolution round the earth, a great parliament, or 
 assembly of representatives, was held in the capital city of St. Luke ; 
 where a speaker being chosen, on accoxmt of his being dumb, the 
 house occupied itself for some hours in discussing whether they should 
 say what they meant, or what they did not mean ; when it was decided 
 that, according to the constitutional practice of the moon, every man 
 ought to say exactly what he did not mean, but what somebody else 
 did. 
 
 The house then passed to the order of the day, and the report of 
 the committee appointed to inquire whether any of the subjects of the 
 moon had enlisted in the service of other states, and to prepare a 
 foreign enlistment bill accordingly, having been brought up, Mr. 
 Bully O'Cucumber, one of the members for the great volcano, rose 
 and said, that the treatment which the volcano had received at the 
 hands of the, rest of the planet, was such as had never been endured, 
 and never would be endured, to the end of time. He was going on to 
 declare that the monstrous and horrible atrocities committed by the 
 
 C. — NO. I. B 
 
2 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 bloody and ferocious tyrants on tlie otlier side of the house, v.ould 
 never be able to smother the fire of the volcano, or keep down the 
 periodical irruptions to which it was subject : but he was interrupted 
 by loud cries of " order, order — question, question." And after foam- 
 ing at the mouth for some time, and gesticulating with infinite vehe- 
 mence towards various parts of the house, he concluded by saying, that 
 as honourable gentlemen were unwilling to hear truth — indeed they 
 always were unwilling to hear the truth : truth was to them a drop of 
 poison, which turned all their cup of joy to bitterness — but as they 
 were unwilling to hear truth and him, he would only add, that they had 
 better beware how they attempted to smother the fire of the volcano ; 
 for if he saw any effort of the kind, he was ready to cast himself into 
 the midst of it ; and who could doubt that the result would be the 
 blowing up of the whole orb ? He spoke expressly for the benefit of 
 the honourable gentleman who was likely soon to come into power ; 
 for his propensity to keeping down flames of all kinds was too well 
 known, to leave a doubt that one of his first efforts would be — if he 
 might use such a figure — to cork the great volcano itself. 
 
 Sir Richard PoM^er then rose, and said, that he would not attempt to 
 follow the honourable member through the whole of his long and 
 irrelevant speech ; but he must say a few words, as that honourable 
 gentleman had taken upon him to presume that he. Sir Richard, was 
 likely soon to be called to power. Now, neither he, nor any one else, had 
 any right to pre-suppose such a thing so confidently. He would, there- 
 fore, in no degree say what might be his measures towards the great 
 volcano, should he ever be called into power. He would, however, 
 tell the honourable gentleman, in general terms, what he thought of 
 the district for which he was one of the representatives. He believed 
 it to be one of the fairest and most beautiful portions of the globe we 
 inhabit, rich in all the gifts of nature, and filled with a population, 
 bright, generous, and kind, who had been placed by a concatenation of 
 adverse and peculiar circumstances, in opposition to those who were 
 really most friendly to them, and in the power of licentious dema- 
 gogues, who were generally animated by one of two dangerous spirits— 
 the violent spirit of factious party, or the more cunning spirit of per- 
 sonal ambition and self-interest. In regard to the fire of the volcano, 
 he must set the honourable gentleman right respecting his opinion. 
 He did not regard it as the great evil which the honourable gentleman 
 supposed. He looked upon it as one of the vivifying principles which 
 gave to the district additional fertility, warmth, richness, and beauty ; 
 and far from wishing to see it stopped, or even to do away with its 
 occasional irruptions, the utmost he should ever desire would be, so to 
 guard every fine edifice, and every great establishment ; so to protect 
 the city, the field, the mansion, and the cottage, that the flame might 
 injure no one, but pass away peacefully, after diffusing warmth and 
 brightness around. Having said thus much, he would recall the house 
 to the question before it, namely, the report of the committee, and 
 their recumiaeiulation that a commissioner should be sent to the nether 
 sphere, for the pm-pose of inquiring whether the numerous spirits 
 
DE LUNATICO IXQUIRfiKDO JJ 
 
 proved to have abandoned their native country had taken refuge on the 
 earth below. 
 
 A long and somewhat desultory discussion ensued : some members 
 declaring that the appointment of a commissioner was premature ; and 
 others observing that they did not see why he should be sent down to 
 the earth rather than to any other planet whatsoever. Some thought 
 it would be better to begin by Saturn, or the Georgium Sidus, as the 
 ultimate star of the whole system, and drive the stray spirits back 
 from planet to planet, till they reached the moon. Others judged 
 differently again, and proposed that the commission should begin its 
 inquiries as near the sim as possible. Another honourable member, 
 who was known to have a numerous family, and a great number of 
 poor relations, believed it would be expedient to have a number of 
 separate commissions, one to each star ; and he demonstrated beyond 
 all doubt or contradiction, that the more a government spent, the more 
 economical it really was ; that national prosperity was proved by 
 bankruptcy, and that the diminution of the revenue was the best pos* 
 sible means of increasing the finances. 
 
 In the end, however, one of the committee rose to defend the 
 report, and showed that therein, it had been proved by returns from 
 the earth itself, that, a greater number of persons, whose whole 
 Conduct and demeanour showed them to be born subjects of the moon, 
 had appeared on the surface of the inferior planet, since the year 
 1830, (as it is termed upon the earth) than at any preceding period, 
 except during the years 1790-1-2-3-4-5, &c. J and, he therefore 
 'agreed that, as this fact was ascertained, it was but just and expedient 
 to send a conimissioner thither \vith full powers to claim, and send 
 back all deserters from the lunar sphere ; and he ended, by assuring 
 some of the honourable gentlemen, that two and two never would 
 make more than four, notwithstanding all that political economists 
 might say. His speech ended the debate, the question was then put 
 and carried without a division, and an humble address was voted and 
 presented to his imperial majesty, whom the people of Europe pro- 
 phanely call, " The man in the Moon," beseeching him to send down a 
 commissioner as aforesaid. 
 
 It was his majesty's pleasure, upon the recomniendation of his 
 secretary of state for strange affairs, to nominate so unworthy a person 
 as myself, John de Lunatico, and to address to me a commission, 
 dated on the tliird day of the sixteenth millioneth year, empowering 
 me to inquire what subjects of the moon, truly so speaking, are 
 resident upon the earth, without special leave and permission of his 
 Lunatic Majesty ; and to deliver summonses or subpoenas in the form 
 of small billets, signed with my name and sealed with my seal, to 
 such persons, as Upon due investigation, I might judge to be astray, 
 either from the capital city of St. Luke, or any other part of his 
 majesty's dominions. The minister, at the same time that he delivered 
 to me this commission, informed me that he would have full powers 
 prepared for me by the seventh day of the same week, and at the 
 jRaine tiifle strongly advised me tip keep a public and a private journal ; 
 
4 THE commissioner; ok, 
 
 the public journal to be delivered immediately after my return into the 
 hand of the ministry, and never to be seen by any other eye but their 
 own ; the private journal to be printed as soon as possible for general 
 circulation. 
 
 With these injunctions I promised to comply most devoutly, and 
 retiring to my own house, I proceeded to make every preparation 
 for my journey ; affecting, as is usual on such occasions, to find it the 
 most inconvenient thing in the world k) go, while, in reality and truth, 
 nothing could give me greater pleasure than to make such a trip at the 
 public expense. I packed up accordingly those clothes and articles of 
 various kinds that were absolutely necessary, in a small portmanteau 
 covered with moon-calf-skin, and then having asked one of the 
 ex-ministers to help me to find a mare's nest, I took some of the eggs as 
 provision by the way. Some small business, which I had to transact 
 with the treasury, detained me a considerable time, for on my first 
 visit, the secretary told me that it was impossible to extract a single 
 farthing from any chest in the place. On my second visit, however, 
 the prime minister being busy with a lady, and the secretary eating 
 his luncheon, one of the clerks gave me a key, and told me to help 
 myself. This being done I had only to wait for my credentials. 
 
 On the eleventh day of the week, and year, whereof I have just 
 spoken, I received the full powers which had been promised me, and 
 I have since seen, during my travels upon the earth, how very useful 
 it would be if the ambassadors of sublunar courts could be endued 
 with the same, instead of the empty and unmeaning pieces of paper 
 and parchment which they carry with them on their diplomatic missions. 
 My powers were comprised in a pill box, a pot of ointment, and a 
 phial; and J was directed immediately when I descended upon the earth 
 to rub my eyes with the ointment, which would enable me, at once, to 
 see into things in a much more profound manner than any of those 
 around me, perceiving the real feelings and thoughts of all the men 
 with whom I might be brought in contact, and making them declare 
 tmto me their true sentiments and ideas without the slightest reserve. 
 The contents of the phial were left to my discretion either to drink or 
 not as I liked, but I was informed that by taking a small portion 
 thereof I should be able to enter into, and sympathise >vith, the sen- 
 sations of any of my mortal companions that seemed to me worthy of 
 such condescension on my part ; and it was insinuated, though I was 
 not directly commanded to do so, that it would be well for me, oc- 
 casionally, to have recourse to the contents of the bottle, in order that 
 I might more clearly comprehend the motives as well as the actions of 
 mankind in general. 
 
 The pill box contained three hundred and ninety-seven pills of dif- 
 ferent sizes — some no bigger than the head of a pin, some as large as 
 a tolerably sized marble. These represented the three hundred and 
 ninety-seven languages of the earth, their sizes betokening the riches or 
 poverty of the tongue. Thus, German was a tremendous bolus ; 
 English, a very good sized pill; Italian, somewhat less, but re- 
 markably smooth and round j French, a small pea, somewhat gritty, 
 
DE LUXATICO IKQUIRENBO. 5 
 
 but rolling about with gi-eat celerity ; Russian, of a somewhat larger 
 size, but of a very irregular form, while there were a multitude of 
 lesser ones, such as the languages of the Sandwich Islands, New Zealand, 
 Otaheite, &c. ; and nine or ten of the size of a minikin pin's head, 
 upon each of which, by the aid of a microscope, might be discovered 
 the word, Australia. By taking any one of these pills, I swallowed 
 a complete language with almost as much facility as a certain reverend 
 gentleman in the little green island, called Ireland. 
 
 I was enjoined to set off with all speed, and, as I find is usual in 
 such cases, although the government had delayed so many days in sending 
 me my credentials, they did not allow me a single day to take leave of 
 my friends. I accordingly put myself, at once, on board a steam-boat, 
 crossed the great sea towards the side of the planet which is turned to 
 the earth, and then, for the second time in my life, beheld, what is 
 certainly the most magnificent sight which my eyes ever yet lighted 
 upon — the earth rolling through space in all its glory, and, apparently, 
 about forty times as large as the sun, but shining with that calm, soft, 
 mellow light, which has met celebration well deserved from all the 
 sentimental poets of St. Luke. I myself have -written poetry upon the 
 subject, which I may give the reader in an appendix. However, it is 
 not at all astonishing that the people on the other side of the moon are 
 so fond of making a trip round to see this magnificent sight. 
 
 Having arrived at the small village and port to which the steam- 
 boat plied, an immediate demand was made for my passport, an instru- 
 ment, which I am proud to say, was first invented in the moon ; and 
 having exhibited my papers, I went to the railway office, and required 
 a special train to carry me down to the earth. This, however was 
 somewhat rudely refused me ; and, indignant at such conduct, I deter- 
 mined to proceed by the old-fashioned way, which we wtell know was 
 employed upon a former occasion by his imperial majesty himself, and 
 wliich there is reason to believe, is as speedy as any steam-carriage in 
 either sphere, seeing it is recorded that he came down too soon to find 
 his way to Norwich. 
 
 Accordingly, I set myself upon a fine, smooth, oblique moonbeam, 
 drew my knees up to my chin, gathered my coat tails under my arms, 
 placed my little portmanteau behind me, put my hands over my knees, 
 and requesting a tobacconist, who happened to be passing by, to give 
 me a gentle push, I began sliding downwards with a pleasant, easy 
 motion, the thin moonbeam swaying up and down beneath me like an 
 Indian's bridge of grass in the Pampas of Peru. The journey was 
 as a pleasant a one as ever was made, and tolerably rapid also : the 
 only thing at all annoying in my course, being the fact of the tobacco- 
 nist aforesaid distiu*bing some of the loose pebbles, in his exertion to 
 push me off, which came rattling down after me, and reached the 
 earth before I was half way thither. I saw one of these small stones 
 afterwards in the cabinet of a naturalist, and the fool called it an 
 aerolite. In about two hours I was within a thousand miles of the 
 earth, which, by this time, had lost its luminous appearance, and 
 seemed nothing but a great, black, dxiU mass lying imderneath me. 
 
I 
 
 ^ THE COMMISSIOKER ; OR, 
 
 The aspect of the place appeared somewhat cold and strange ; but 
 just at that moment, a number of merry voices singing, cheered me on 
 the way, and I found it was a large party of Frenchmen's wits just 
 going up to the moon, having been lost by their right owners during 
 some great political disturbance. They passed close by me, and X 
 heard them sing the following song to a merry tune as they went : — 
 
 SONG. 
 
 FIRST VOICE 
 
 The moon, the moon, the jolly round moon ; 
 
 Let us all up to her bright face soon I 
 
 There's nothing on earth that should keep us below ; 
 
 The folks are all flat, and the coaches all slow. 
 
 Their wine is all sour, and their pipe out of tune ; 
 
 So up to the moon, the jolly round moon I 
 
 The moon, the moon, the jolly round moon I 
 
 8KC0N1) TOICB. 
 
 There is nothing on earth that is sure for an hour ; 
 Look at that little minister climbing to power. 
 The patriot now, the parasite then. 
 He'll get up on high, and he'll fall back again : 
 He'll argue on one side from morning till noon, 
 And next day he'll send his last speech to the moon ; 
 The moon, the moon, the jolly round moon. 
 
 THIRD VOICE. 
 
 Humbug's the trade that prospers all through, 
 From the crown bearing king, to the bag bearing Jew ; 
 The lawyer, the statesman, the doctor, the dame. 
 The priest and the pagan, all humbugs the same ; 
 And but as much truth, as would lie in a spoon 
 Would blow the whole universe up to the moon ; 
 The moon, the moon, the jolly round moon. 
 
 FOURTH VOICE. 
 
 I saw a young widow as cold as the ice, 
 
 I saw a great patriot refusing his price, 
 
 I saw a great lawyer decline a bad cause, 
 
 I saw a great orator hating applause ; 
 
 But all found out motives for changing full soon. 
 
 And their good resolutions went up to the moon ; 
 
 The moon, the moon, the jolly round moon. 
 
i>E LtJNAtiCO IXQUniE^*»0. 
 
 FIFTH VOICE. 
 
 The way's somewhat lon<^, and the coach somewhat old. 
 We shall need some provisions to keep out the cold. 
 So what have you got, Jean, to use by the way. 
 For you keep the bag and the piper must pay ? 
 "We must make ourselves merry, for mirth is a boon 
 Less fitted for earth than the jolly round moon j 
 The moon, the moon, the jolly round moon. 
 
 SIXTH VOICE. 
 
 Here's a farthing a miser once gave to the poor. 
 
 The tears of an heir, and the smile of ,* 
 
 A physician's prescription, a dear friend's advice. 
 The virtue of countesses not over nice. 
 The love of a poet, and tail of baboon. 
 Here's provision enough to go up to the moon ; 
 The moon, the moon, the jolly round moon. 
 
 In ten minutes more I entered a thick cloud, as it seemed to me, so 
 great was the oppression upon my chest by the increasing density 
 of the atmosphere ; but, still, every thing was clear around the eye, 
 and I speedily began to see below me green fields and valleys, and 
 streams and lakes, together with villages and churches, and country 
 houses and towns, all very like the moon indeed. " This is a de- 
 lightful country," I said to myself; " equal to the brightest parts of 
 our own planet. I am sure I shall be pleased with the people, and 
 will endeavour to enter into their characters.** 
 
 I made a resolution, then, to take a few drops from my phial when- 
 ever I was introduced into a society where the faces were pleasing to 
 me, so that I might sympathise with my companions, even if it were 
 but for an hour. This was a rash resolution, of which I had soon 
 cause to repent, as the reader will see hereafter ; but to pursue my 
 history, the thickness of the atmosphere speedily lost its oppressive 
 effect, but it answered a very good purpose by gradually diminishing 
 the rapidity of my progress, which, had it gone on might have 
 brought me into very impleasant collision with the earth. As it was, 
 sliding gently down with a decreasing velocity, I was guided by the 
 moonbeam into a pleasant old-fashioned garden, as I heard it after- 
 wards termed, of a very peculiar aspect, which, as I at once perceived, 
 from the accounts that I had read in the many millions of books of 
 lunatic travels, that I have perused, denoted that I was in no other 
 country but that called England. 
 
 It is true that this garden was not of the taste of the present day ; 
 but there were those marks about it which left no doubt as to the 
 
 * This word is so blotted out in the original, that it was found impossible to 
 decipher it. Some think that the Ime should have ended with " Jane Shore,'* or 
 something of that kmd. 
 
I 
 
 8 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 locality. There were numerous beds of flowers within trim, neatly cut 
 borders of box, while round about, filling up all the vacancies between 
 these beds, was a smooth green turf. The garden was surrounded by 
 thick hedges of yew, some eight feet high, and over the whole, the calm 
 tranquil light of our own beautiful planet was streaming, illuminating 
 every corner thereof, so that one could see the most minute stone in 
 a smooth gravel-walk that ran between the flower-garden and a little 
 bowling-green. This latter spot was covered with the same velvet- 
 like turf, and sunk somewhat lower than the rest of the ground with 
 inclined edges sloping gently off, and giving the whole the appearance 
 of a green soup-plate. I came down without any noise, though the 
 heels of my boots made a slight indentation in the turf as I lighted, 
 but without producing any unpleasant sensation in my own frame. I 
 felt myself very comfortable, my spirits high, my prospects bright, 
 and the inquiry upon which I was about to enter, one of the most 
 interesting that it is possible to conceive. The manifold curious re- 
 sults of that inquiry, the reader will soon know ; but as, in its course, 
 I had an opportunity of bestowing inestimable benefits upon my own 
 country, and performing acts, which must leave my name immortal, 
 as my genius, and wisdom, and discrimination, and judgment, my 
 courage, my skill, my wit, and my talents, were all displayed in such 
 a manner as to astound and surprise any one who is capable of those 
 passions, a due and becoming modesty induces me, notwithstanding 
 the solicitation of my friends, and the urgent request of the govern- 
 ment, to put my notes into the hands of a clever young acquaintance, 
 and beg him to give an account of my travels to the world in his own 
 words ; thus, avoiding egotism, and sparing a terrible consumption of 
 capital Ps. 
 
BE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 inK CIIEVALIEK's first acquaintance FINDS HIM TO BK A DOUBTFUL CHARACTER 
 
 TWO LOVERS INTRODUCED TO THE CHEVALIER A NEW SORT OF PICKPOCKET • 
 
 SCHEMES OF LIFE AN OLD GENTLEMAN'S VIEW OF A YOUNG LADl's HAPPINESS. 
 
 The travels of the Chevalier de Lunatico may be said to take their 
 point of departure from the little bowling-green, at the edge of which 
 he first lighted in his descent. It is greatly to be regretted indeed that 
 he has not thought fit to give us farther information concerning tlie 
 moon, its political state, civil, religious, and military history, natural 
 productions, and philosophical progress, as the things that can be of 
 not the slightest benefit to us are of course always the most interest- 
 ing. His silence in these respects however, leaves us no choice, and 
 we must even take up the history of his journey where he himself left 
 it, and begin from the pleasant little garden into which he had found 
 his way. 
 
 To say the truth he was a little agitated, or fluttered, at his new 
 position, but he recovered himself in a moment, and looking round 
 him, the first object his eyes rested on was an old gentleman with a 
 thoughtful air, walking up and down in the bowling-green before- 
 mentioned, enjoying the moonlight. The chevalier was naturally 
 attracted to a person of such tastes, and followed him as he turned 
 towards the other side of the green, not having perceived the descent 
 of a stranger into his garden. Mr. de Lunatico thought fit, however, 
 in the first instance, to place his portmanteau under a shrub, and 
 swallow a pill out of his box, Avhich instantly made him thoroughly 
 acquainted with the English language ; nor did he forget his eye-salve, 
 but took care to be well prepared before he made a single step in the 
 new world before him. The old gentleman turned at the other side 
 of the bowling-green, and the chevalier advancing, made an excuse 
 for intruding upon his privacy. The powers, however, with wliich he 
 was endowed, had their effect upon the stranger at once, and taking 
 the chevalier's hand, he shook it heartily, saying, with a benevolent 
 air, that he was delighted to see him whatever was the cause of his 
 coming. " I am taking," he said, " my usual solitary walk by moon- 
 light, giving up my thoughts to philosophical inquiries for half an 
 hour before I go to supper, and if you will do me the favour of accom- 
 panying me while I continue my perambulations, w^e will afterwards 
 go in, and I will introduce you to my daughter, and a young cousin 
 of ours who is just now staying at my house ; you will find them very 
 pleasant people." 
 
 " I doubt it not in the least," replied the chevalier, in a civil tone. 
 ** You seem very fond of the moonlight, sir." 
 
10 The coMMisstONER ; or, 
 
 " Very," said he. 
 
 " Pray, were you ever in the moon, sir ?" demanded Mr. de 
 Lunatico. 
 
 " Often," replied his companion. 
 
 That is candid at least, thought the chevalier to himself, putting 
 his hand into his pocket, and seeking for one of his little billets for the 
 moon, with the full intention of sending his new friend back imme- 
 diately ; but the moment after, the old gentleman added, " Of course 
 we both speak figuratively. I have often visited the moon with my 
 telescope, and think that I have made some discoveries. However, I 
 am not vain of them nor too sure of them ; for in this wonderful age 
 so much is every day added to our stock of knowledge, that we hourly 
 learn how little we do know, how little we can ever know, and how 
 imperfectly we know that which we are permitted to know." 
 
 The chevalier buttoned up his breeches pocket in which he kept 
 the billets, saying to himself, " This will never do ! No signs of a 
 stray spirit here !" But just at that moment the old gentleman laid 
 his hand upon his visitor's shoulder, saying with a good-humoured 
 cheerful smile — " But my moralizing makes you serious. What a 
 beautiful night it is : come, let us have a game of bowls, there are the 
 balls in the corner — you understand the game ? — Well, then, I'll show 
 you — take off your coat, take off your coat — now you see, hold your 
 ball in this manner, balancing him right in the middle of your hand 
 in this way." — And after a few words more of instruction, the chevalier 
 and his old companion were in the middle of a game of bowls, Mr. 
 de Lunatico, somewhat clumsy at the unaccustomed trade, and his in- 
 structor laughing till his eyes ran down with tears at every hit he made 
 and the chevalier lost. 
 
 The latter unbuttoned his pocket again, slipped his hand into it, 
 drew out a billet between his finger and thumb, and concealed it in 
 the palm of his hand, only waiting till the game was done to present 
 it in due form. When it was over, however, the old gentleman wiped 
 his brow, put on his coat, and with his kind and instructive air, said — 
 " I dare say this seems to you all very foolish, that a man of my years, 
 studies, and experience, with higher subjects on which to employ liis 
 mind, and with some habits of reflection, should spend any portion of 
 his time in the sports of a boy. But I hold it to be wise so to regulate 
 our enjoyments that we lose none, and as our youthful pleasures are 
 certainly sweeter than any other, to bring them back from time to time 
 to refresh us in om* old age, as a man who has long been accustomed 
 to drink wine, finds when thirsty ten times more relief in a glass of 
 plain cold water." 
 
 Once more replacing his billet, the chevalier resolved not to be so 
 hasty in his conclusions for the future, and was inclined to put it to 
 himself as a sort of problem for future solution, whether there is most 
 reason in folly, or folly in reason^ 
 
 " Now, let us go in," said the old gentleman, in continuation ; " but 
 in the first place favour me with your name, that I may introduce you 
 properly, though, as the great poet has justly observed, * W^hat's in a 
 
ISM 
 
 ^y^ 
 
 
 
DE LUNATICO I^^QCIfiEKfiO. 11 
 
 name ?' Nevertheless, it is convenient as a mode of classification ; for 
 every one must be somehow designated to our minds, and were I never 
 to learn what you are called amongst your own friends, I should have to 
 put you down in the book of memory as the man with the long nose,"* 
 
 Having a sort of natural jealousy in regard to any one meddling 
 with that peculiar feature of his face on which the old gentleman had 
 touched, the chevalier hastened to stop him from making any farther 
 allusions to his proboscis, by informing him that the visitor was called 
 by his friends and countrymen, the Chevalier de Lunatico, that he was 
 a stranger in the country, and was in fact upon a voyage of discovery. 
 This intelligence seemed to be very satisfactory to the old gentleman, 
 and he was proceeding to make various inquiries into the peculiar 
 nature of the objects the chevalier proposed to himself, which might 
 not have been very convenient to answer, when a sudden gust of cold 
 air interrupted their conversation by reminding the host that it was 
 time to return into the house. Leading the way, therefore, with the 
 most perfect politeness, he conducted the chevalier to a small ivy- 
 covered porch, by which they entered into the dwelling. The passage 
 was crowded mth all manner of things, as various in their nature aa 
 those deposited in the great museum of the capital. There were tele- 
 scopes beyond number, of all shapes and sizes, which the old philo- 
 sopher called his guns for shooting at the stars. There were electrical 
 machines with which he declared that, but give him a wire long 
 enough, and he would knock down an ox on the other side of the 
 world. There were screws, and levers, and quadrants, and sextants, 
 and artificial horizons ; there were air-pumps so perfect, that a guinea 
 and a feather, instead of falling with equal velocity, would not fall at 
 all ; and galvanic batteries and piles, by means of which he assured 
 the chevalier that he could produce spontaneous lice. Mr. de Lu- 
 natico told him in reply to this last boast, that he thought he had 
 better let it alone, as those things multiply fast enough without assist- 
 ance ; at least it is well known that such is the case in the moon, 
 especially in the heads of philosophers. 
 
 It was with some difl[iculty that the two threaded this encumbered 
 maze, and at length reached a mahogany door, which being suddenly 
 opened by the host, displayed the interior of a comfortable chamber, 
 and a little domestic scene very pleasant to the eyes of the chevalier. 
 The room was low and wainscotted with dark wood, but it was well and 
 cheerfully lighted, for the philosopher was very much at his ease in the 
 world. A thick carpet, from a country called Turkey, covered the floor, 
 several tables occupied difierent places in the room, and the corners were 
 adorned with neat antique shelves, on which were piled up numerous 
 pieces of ancient porcelain, extraordinary shells, and other curiosities, 
 while a large piano-forte occupied a conspicuous place, loaded on the 
 top with a guitar, a flute, and a number of books of music. 
 
 On the hearth crackled a bright wood fire, and on a wide-spreading 
 sofa, with downy pillows and a chintz cover, sat side by side, and 
 somewhat near each other, a very pretty rosy-lipped, dark-eyed girl of 
 eighteen or nineteen, and a young gentleman of as prepossessing aa 
 
12 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 appearance as could be beheld; tall, well formed, graceful, witli a sort 
 of frank and sparkling gaiety of expression in his countenance which 
 won upon the beholder at first sight. The young gentleman rose as 
 the master of tlie house and his guest entered, drawing a little farther 
 from the fair lady in the first place, while the colour mounted slightly 
 into her cheek. Thus, while the old philosopher introduced the chevalier 
 to his daughter, Laura and their cousin, Harry Worrel, Mr. de Luna- 
 tico could not help seeing in prospect matrimony and wedding rings, 
 and a long line of grandchildren frisking round the knees of his worthy 
 host. He, on his part, seemed perfectly contented with his daughter 
 and his cousin, and the whole world; and in the expansive satisfaction 
 of his own heart, he passed a high eulogium upon his new guest; 
 speaking of him as a distinguished philosopher upon a voyage of disco- 
 very for the benefit of his native country. 
 
 It is impossible to describe the kindness and civility with which the 
 two young people received the Chevalier de Lunatico ; and the clear- 
 sightedness which he possessed, by virtue of his lunar ointment, showed 
 him all their feelings, and made them open their whole hearts to him 
 whenever they had an opportunity of conversing with him apart. He 
 found, as he was led to suppose from the very first sight, that they 
 were desperately in love with each other ; but it proved that they were 
 not a little afraid the young lady's father should discover their passion, 
 as they both agreed — it seemed to the chevalier very mireasonably — 
 that he would certainly oppose their marriage. 
 
 They took the opportunity of informing their new acquaintance of 
 all this, while the old gentleman was out of the room for a moment; but 
 Mr. de Lunatico laughed at their fears, saying it was quite evident that 
 her father perceived their love, and destiiied them for each other. He 
 could induce neither of them to believe him in this respect, and at 
 length to quiet their apprehensions ; he told them he would speak with 
 Mr. Longmore on the subject, for so was the philosopher called. 
 
 "He will discover to me his whole feelings," said the chevalier, 
 trusting to his extraordinary powers. "He will discover to me his 
 whole feelings without the slightest reserve, and you shall hear the 
 result." 
 
 Thereupon they both besought him most earnestly on the contrary 
 not to say a word to that gentleman. "If he were to discover it," they 
 said, "he would separate us from each other immediately, and never 
 suffer us to meet any more. This is always the case with fathers in 
 our country : they lead their children to fall in love, and then are angry. 
 As it is, we are very happy, and dread losing the blessing we possess." 
 
 The chevalier reassured them, by saying that he would not in any 
 degree betray them, but would only induce Mr. Longmore to open 
 his mind with regard to his daughter, and to the views he entertained 
 for her future fate. 
 
 "But, do you think he will tell you?" demanded the young lady; 
 " he is very secret and reserved upon every subject since the other man 
 stole a star from him." 
 
 Mr. de Lunatico was proceeding to inquire what tliis extraordi- 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 13 
 
 nary charge could mean, when the philosopher's step, which was 
 somewhat creaky, was heard coming along the passage, and his daughter 
 replied, " Ask him, ask him, he will tell you all about it." " Dear papa," 
 she continued eagerly, as her father entered, "do tell the chevalier 
 how that abominable man stole the star from you !" 
 
 " Ah ! that was a scandalous act," cried the old gentleman, setting 
 down a bottle of very particular old wine, which he had gone to the cellar 
 to fetch himself, in order to do honour to the chevalier's arrival. " It's 
 a fact, upon my honour, sir, he stole my star from me, my very best 
 star, just in the middle of Orion's belly. He was a Frenchman, sir, 
 the natural born enemy of all Englishmen, and I ought to have known 
 better than to trust lum; but, with the foolish good humour of our 
 nation, I wished to show him every sort of civility, and took him into 
 my observatory, where I had just been writing down, for transmission 
 to the Royal Societ)^, the account of my having discovered a new star 
 in the belly of Orion just a quarter of a degree below his belt. It was 
 the most beautiful star that ever was seen, sir, not bigger than the 
 point of the finest needle, even when viewed through my new thirty- 
 foot telescope, which I invented for the express purpose of magnifying 
 the fixed stars. Sir, it was a delightful star. It would have handed 
 my name down to posterity with a brightness that would have eclipsed 
 that of Newton himself. Yes, sir, yes, it would have made my name 
 immortal ; for it having pleased Providence only to give me a daughter, 
 I intended in some sort to adopt it as a son, and call it Jerry Longmore — 
 why should it not bear my name as well as the Georgium Sidus that of 
 Herschell ? But that French villain, sir, while I was called away for 
 a moment to diminish the intensity of the galvanic ciu-rents which 
 were tlireateuing to set the house on fire, cribbed, pocketted, filched my 
 notes from the table, made an excuse to get off as fast as possible, 
 travelled post night and day till he arrived in Paris, and it being 
 cloudy weather, before I could repeat my observations, find out my star 
 again, and send my notes to London, he had published the whole 
 account, declared he discovered it himself, and called it by his own 
 villanous name of Tirlupin, by which it will be known to all posterity 
 — Tirlupin ou le nombril d^ Irion ! Such is the beastly name by which 
 it now goes in the French catalogues."* 
 
 The chevalier condoled with the old gentleman upon the loss he 
 had sustained, and inquired whether there were not some court in Europe 
 to which such offences could be referred. 
 
 " Posterity, sir, posterity t" said Mr. Longmore ; " posterity is the 
 only court to which we can appeal ; but alack and a-well-a-day, we 
 cannot wait for its decisions. Slow justice, chevalier, slow justice ia 
 
 * To guard against all mistakes here and hereafter, the editor of the Travels 
 of the Chevalier de Lunatico begs to state, upon the authority of the chevalier 
 himself, that not one word contained in this work has the slightest personal refe- 
 rence to any individual now living. Therefore, if there should be any gentlemau 
 of the name of Tirlupin in the world, he is assured that his cognomea has onljr 
 been adopted to cover a generalization. 
 
14 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 that court ; but still it is some satisfaction to think that it will do right 
 in the end, and that perhaps my star will be called Jerry Longmore 
 after all." 
 
 The poor gentleman was so moved by his own injuries, and so touched 
 by Mr. de Lunatico's condolence, that as soon as supper was set upon the 
 table he began to ply the bottle heartily, and before an hour was over 
 was decidedly in a condition to discover many more new stars. At 
 length, however, finding things become somewhat confused before his 
 sight, he caused the chevalier to be conducted to the chamber assigned 
 to him; and his little portmanteau having been brought in, the lunar 
 commissioner sat down to consider upon the whole, whether the good 
 old philosopher had merited his billet or not. He resolved, however, 
 not to be too rash, and retiring to bed fell sound asleep. 
 
 The first beams of the morning sun stealing through a little round 
 hole which had been left in the window shutters, woke the chevalier on 
 the following morning, and dressing himself as speedily as possible, he 
 descended to the garden, where he found the good old gentleman as fresh 
 and hearty as ever, propping up the stems of some sweet peas, 
 and apparently enjoying his garden as much as he had done his 
 bottle. 
 
 "I think," he said, after the first salutations were over, "I think I 
 was a little tipsy last night. It was not my day either, so that it was 
 all in honour of yoiu* arrival." 
 
 "Pray, Mr. Longmore," demanded the chevalier, "have you then a 
 particular day for getting drunk?" 
 
 "No, sir, no," replied the philosopher, "not exactly drunk, that is 
 a harsh word — Fuddled, sir, a leetle fuddled, perhaps — tipsee-ish, 
 nothing more. Many ancient philosophers and physicians have recom- 
 mended us to deviate a little from sobriety from time to time, and as 
 we should always be regular even in our irregularities, I make a point 
 of going to bed comfortable, as I term it, every Thursday regularly. 
 I have continued to do so to the great benefit of my health, mental and 
 corporeal, for the last fifty years, and I see no reason why I should 
 not do so for fifty years more." 
 
 "May I ask," said the chevalier drily, "how long people usually live 
 in your country ?* 
 
 "Why, about seventy years," replied the philosopher; "but I have 
 passed that period, and in the constitution of the human body, the bones, 
 the muscles, the fibres, the nerves, the blood vessels, the glands, the 
 fluids, and membranes of which it is composed, I see no principle of 
 inherent decay which should prevent the human machine, if properly 
 sheltered, protected, and regulated, from going on for ever." 
 
 The chevalier put his hand in his pocket, but curiosity to hear some- 
 thing more of his companion's views, restrained him from delivering at 
 once the billet to which he thought Mr. Longmore had now established 
 an indubitable title. That gentleman went on, however, as is the way 
 with men, to argue so reasonably in regard to his unreasonable expec- 
 tations, that he soon staggered Mr. de Lunatico in his purpose. He 
 contended that what had been, might be ; he cited a whole host of old 
 
DE LUXATICO IXQUIRENDO 15 
 
 gentlemen, called Methuselah, Lamech, Cainan, Mahalaleel, old Jen- 
 kins, and old Parr, who had lived a great deal longer than he had 
 proposed to himself; and he contended that it was entirely man's own 
 fault, either by diet, passion, folly, or fear, that made him die at all 
 before he liked it. "Man, sir, man," he said, "is not a candle, which 
 being lighted at the top, burns down to the bottom, and then goes out 
 with a stink in the socket. On the contrary, there is not one cause to 
 be discovered in the construction of our external frame, nor one motive 
 in all that we know of the soul, nor any reason in the combination of 
 the two for supposing that I, who now stand here before you, may 
 not be just as much alive and comfortable a hundred years hence, 
 about which period of life Methuselah begat Lamech, as I am at this 
 moment. But, there I see through the open window, Laura has come 
 down to make breakfast, and we must soon go in and join her." 
 
 "As soon as ever you please, sir," replied the chevalier; "for she 
 seems to me a very charming creature." 
 
 " She is a very good specimen of the particular class of animal to 
 which she belongs," replied Mr. Longmore. " The most perfect of the 
 mammalia. I am somewhat proud of my daughter, sir ; for besides 
 being able to comprehend and appreciate the wonderful discoveries in 
 science which have been made by your humble servant, she has also 
 a tender and affectionate heart, and what between my instructions, and 
 the marriage which she is likely soon to enter into, there can be no 
 doubt of her being perfectly happy." 
 
 "1 am glad to hear you intend to marry her early," replied the 
 chevalier briefly, wishing to let him develope his own purposes, which 
 Mr. de Lunatico knew he would do in consequence of the powers that 
 had been given him by the Minister for Strange Affairs. 
 
 " Oh, that I shall do, certainly," answered Mr. Longmore. " Every 
 woman, sir, has a right to be married. It is a necessity of their nature. 
 Taking a husband is to them, in the summer-day of life, no more than 
 taking a breakfast. They have an appetite for matrimony, and those 
 who do not marry may be said to starve. One of our poets has 
 declared that man was not made to live alone. I am not quite sure 
 that he is right, but right he would have been if he had spoken of 
 woman. They always want something to lean upon ; they are climbing 
 plants, my dear chevalier, and I intend ere three weeks be over to put 
 a husband down by the side of my daughter, just as I have stuck in 
 a stick by the side of those sweet peas — a very apt simile. Ha, ha, 
 ha ! and the old gentleman laughed heartily, and with great aj)parent 
 satisfaction. 
 
 " Pray, Mr. Longmore," said the chevalier, " if it be not an imper- 
 tinent question, who is the happy man that is to act the part of pea- 
 stick on this occasion ? I think I can guess, but I should like much 
 to hear it from your own lips." 
 
 The philosopher smiled complacently, and then replied to Mr. de 
 Lunatico's horror and astonishment, — 
 
 " 1 don't think you can divine ; lor I rather believe you never saw 
 him in your life. It is the Honourable Henry Frederick Augustus 
 
16 THE COMMISSIONEH J OR, 
 
 Fitzurse — which, being interpreted, means * son of a bear' — the only 
 child of my near neighbour, Viscount Outrun." 
 
 The chevalier's heart felt for his two young friends ; for to tell the 
 reader the truth, he had contrived slyly to let fall a few drops of his 
 sympathetic fluid into the first glass of wine he had drank with them ; 
 and from that moment felt a degree of interest in all their affairs, 
 which was quite marvellous. It struck him, however, that as soon as 
 the good old philosopher discovered which way his daughter's inclina- 
 tions ran, he would immediately change his purposes. It was evident 
 that her happiness was his grand object ; he was a man of sense and 
 discrimination too, and not likely to be led away by any vain imagi- 
 nations, except philosophical ones ; and Mr. de Lunatico, therefore, 
 ventured to put a few more questions to him, in order to ascertain 
 whether the Honourable Henry Frederick Augustus Fitzurse possessed 
 such high qualities, corporeal and intellectual, as could balance the 
 great advantage of his young friend Worrel, in possessing the fair 
 Laura's heart. 
 
 " Pray, Mr. Longmore," said he, " is this young man a very virtu- 
 ous one or a very learned one, a distinguished soldier, an accom- 
 plished gentleman, a skilful statesman, or a great philosopher ?" 
 
 His companion hesitated, and the chevalier could see that he was 
 very unwilling to reply to his questions ; but the powers of his eye- 
 salve were not to be resisted ; and being forced to tell all, Mr. Long- 
 more replied, — 
 
 " To say the truth, chevalier, he is not very famous for his virtue ; 
 - lie seduced the miller's daughter, and then threw her away like a worn 
 garment, so that the poor girl drowned herself in the dam. Then he 
 intrigued with the attorney's vnfe, was prosecuted, and forced to pay 
 damages by her husband, who, immediately after the trial was over, 
 took her back to live with him, and gave her a smart new pelisse out 
 of the money. No ; I can't say he is ve-ry virtuous. As to his learn- 
 ing, I believe he can read and write ; but I don't think much more — 
 he is a peer's son, you know. And then again, in respect to his being 
 a distinguished soldier, he did distinguish himself at the last great 
 battle, but it was by running away. He is what we call an accom- 
 plished gentleman, however, now-a-days ; for he smokes an immense 
 number of cigars ; can spit farther through his teeth than his own 
 groom ; has cheated a veterinary surgeon in selling a horse ; can drive 
 a tandem to perfection ; and ride, drink, swear, and frighten women 
 and children, with any man in the United Kingdoms." 
 
 " Then, pray, my dear sir," demanded the chevalier, in as quiet 
 a tone as he could possibly assume, " what is your motive for bestow- 
 ing your daughter upon this unpleasant young gentleman ?" 
 
 " She will be a peeress," said the old man, in a low tone ; " she will 
 be a peeress I" 
 
 " But, suppose she would rather not," said Mr. de Lunatico. 
 
 " She shall, by ," cried the philosopher, with a very unpliilo- 
 
 sophical oath. " Good Heaven ! when I have been striving and 
 labouring for her happiness, and am now ready to settle all that I have. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 17 
 
 on earth upon her, and to pay off the mortgage upon the Outrun 
 estate, and to do every thing in the world for her ! If the girl Avcre 
 mad enough to say a word against what I propose, I would cast her 
 off for ever." 
 
 Tlie old gentleman by this time had worked himself into such a 
 passion, that the chevalier saw it would be useless to reason with 
 him; for he had remarked in the moon and elsewhere, that there is 
 nothing which makes people so angry, as to find that other people can 
 be happy in a different way from that which they propose. Mr. de 
 Lunatico once thought indeed of interrupting all the old gentleman's 
 schemes, by giving him his summons to another sphere ; but then the 
 wish to see how things would go, and the positive prohibition which 
 had been laid upon him in regard to using the powers with which he 
 was invested, to influence the ordinary course of human affairs, induced 
 him to pause ; when just at that moment, Lam-a put her beautiful 
 little head out of the window, and summoned them to the breakfast- 
 room, where the chevalier found that poor young Worrel had taken 
 his place, and was enjoying his dream of happiness, unconscious of 
 the fate that was preparing for him. 
 
 C. — NO. I. 
 
J9 THE COMMISSIONER J OR, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE CnEVALlER FINDS HIMSELF IN AN AAVKWAKU BUT COMMON PREDICAMENT— 
 
 INQUIRES CURIOUSLY INTO THE NATURE OK LOVE AN INVITATION TO A BALL 
 
 THE REASONABLENESS OF BUELLINd DEMONSTRATED THE CHEVALIER AND THE 
 
 LOVER TAKE AN AFTERNOON'S RIDE WHO WE SHOULD MARRY AND WHO WE 
 
 SHOULD NOT THE TREVIOUS HISTORY OF ONE OF THE CHARACTERS THE 
 
 KENOAVNED JOEY PIKE IS MADE ACQUAINTED WITH THE READER, AS WELL AS 
 
 MRS. MUGGINS SOME MORE OF THE WORREL CHRONICLES THE CHEVALIER 
 
 TAKES A MOONLIGHT BIDE, AND MEETS AVITII A SOFT SOLICITOR ON THE KING'S 
 HIGHWAY. 
 
 The morning passed pleasantly, the clear freshness of an English 
 breakfast, the bright looks of Laura and lier lover, the brown toast, 
 t!ie new laid eggs, the fragrant coffee, to say nothing of some excellent 
 broiled ham kept hot mider a silver cover, and some golden honey in a 
 crystal jar, all tended to reconcile the Chevalier de Lunatico to the 
 planet in Avhich he was destined to make a temporary sojourn, and 
 make him comprehend the inducements which lead so many spirits 
 astray from the kingdom of the moon. Although the house of the 
 philosopher was a very comfortable residence, yet reflecting that busi- 
 ness must be thought of before pleasure, and judging from their 
 conversation of that morning that there could be very little doubt as 
 to which world good Mr. Longmore belonged to, the chevalier, on second 
 thoughts, proposed to give him his billet for the moon as soon after 
 breakfast as possible, and to proceed on his way without further delay. 
 Before the meal was over, however, the old gentleman w as led into a dis- 
 cussion concerning the effects of virtue and vice on human happiness ; 
 and so shrewdly did he argue, so sensibly did he reason, so eloquently 
 did he prove that " Health consists in temperance alone, and Peace, oh 
 "Virtue ! Peace is all thine own," that the chevalier began again to 
 doubt whether a man who was so wise in some respects must not be 
 right in others also, and whether constituted as the earth is, it might 
 not be really better to marry a daughter to a coward, a drunkard, a 
 debaucliee, and a fool, rather than to a sensible, affectionate, high-spirited 
 young man, when the one had a title, and the other had none. Mr. de 
 Lunatico was certainly at this period unacquainted with the common 
 ])ractices of our world, otherwise he would have had no doubt upon the 
 matter. He resolved, however, to inquire farther, and after breakfast, 
 Mr. Longmore pressed his hand kindly, saying, " You must not think 
 of quitting us for a day or two, although I must leave you under the 
 rare of my daughter, and our young cousin, Worrel, for I must now 
 go to my observatory to examine these terrible spots in the sun. I 
 would im ite you, chevalier, to give me your assistance, but after the 
 sad loss I sustained, I took an oath that no foreigner should ever enter 
 
DE LUXATICO INQL'IRENBO 19 
 
 the (ibservatory again. In you, my dear sir, I have the most profound 
 confidence, as you are well aware, but my oalli must not be broken.'* 
 
 The chevalier put his mind at ease by begging hirn to make no 
 excuses, as he could have given him no assistance in regard to the sun, 
 having confined himself entirely to another sphere. 
 
 When Mr. Longmore had retired, the chevalier found himself in 
 the very awkward position of a companion of two lovers. I never 
 could discover why, the number three has always been looked upon as 
 a lucky one by astrologers in olden times, and housemaids and pea- 
 sant girls in our own. It is evidently also considered as something 
 fine, in the constitutions of states, it is reverenced by magistrates, 
 it is the gauge of the congregation, and wherever we turn we find 
 number three making himself as busy and important as a new 
 made member of parliament ; and yet, after all, there are few 
 situations more uncomfortable than being number three, when two 
 is quite company enough. The chevalier, however, was, as the 
 reader well knows, very peculiarly circumstanced, and, in fact, was 
 not half so much in the way as any one else might have been. The 
 confidence which he inspired, at the very first sight, had its eflfects upon 
 tlie lovers as well as upon all others. Laura said in her own heart 
 that she did not care at all about being made love to in his presence, 
 and Harry Worrel vowed that it was a matter of moonshine to him 
 whether the chevalier saw all their proceedings or not. Such being 
 the case, the chevalier made himself comfortable, and entering, as he 
 did, into all the feelings, thoughts, and wishes of the fair Laura and 
 her lover, he began a somewhat interesting conversation with them 
 concerning their futiu"e fate. 
 
 Let it not be supposed, however, that although he did sympa- 
 thise with all their sensations, he was not without a great deal of 
 surprise at the phenomenon of love, and set himself seriously to 
 consider whether it was, or was not in itself a species of lunacy. 
 " Here are two beings," he said to himself, " composed of bundles of 
 fibres, disposed artfully around a jointed framework of earthenware, and 
 covered over with a soft, sleek, pretty coloured tegument, ornamented 
 with a glossy, curling, vegetable substance, called hair, and united 
 w ith a peculiar sort of spirit, differing so little from our own spirits in 
 the moon, and those of other planets, that it is difficult to distinguish 
 the one from the other. These beings see each other, and because one 
 happens to have a diflTerent shaped patch of red, or black, or blue 
 from the rest of their fellow-creatures, or because the vegetable 
 happens to curl a different way, or the wind instrument, with which 
 they are furnished for making an intelligible noise, chances to have a 
 particular tone, they become so desirous of living all their lives to- 
 gether, that if they are not permitted to do so, they will be quite ready 
 to take means for reducing their soul-case to its original elements- 
 All this is very curious, it must be confessed — I will watch the process." 
 
 " Come, chevalier," cried Laura, just at that moment, " put on your 
 hat, and come out v ith Henry and me, — we will take you a long walk 
 through the country, and siiow you every thing that is pretty round 
 about." 
 
20 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 The chevalier very willingly complied, and while Laura, lianging 
 on Worrel's arm, led the way through shady lanes and through green 
 fields, he went on Avith his examination of that strange, but sweet 
 thing, love, and could not but own, as he saw the mutual glance of 
 warm affection, the playful smile that spoke the heart's passion without 
 words, the long sigh drawn in the fulness of happiness, and perceived 
 how love, like the bee, extracts honey from every object that it 
 passes — he could not but own, I say, that, however strange, it is very 
 delightful. There was a simplicity and a truth in the lovers too, that 
 to his eyes, who could see their hearts, gave a sort of a holy bright- 
 ness to their affection. Their confidence in eacli other seemed to beget 
 a confidence in all around them, in their own happiness, in natiure, in 
 man, in God ; and wandering on together, plucking flowers from the 
 banks, pausing to look into this calm sweet glen, or over that wide 
 dazzling prospect, listening to the song of the birds, or scenting the 
 fresh dawning air, it was evident that they expected their life to be 
 like that summer day's walk where tranquil enjoyment and peaceful 
 variety awaited them at every step. 
 
 The chevalier resolved, though forbidden to use any of the greater 
 powers he possessed, to exert himself to the utmost in every other way 
 to promote the happiness of the lovers. " I can surely persuade the 
 old gentleman," he said to himself, " to a better view of this affair." — 
 But the chevalier little knew how obstinate a father can be when his 
 daughter's happiness is concerned. All the gentlemen of antiquity, 
 who sacrificed, or ever thought of sacrificing, their daughters, from 
 Jeptha to Agamemnon, are nothing to a modern papa, with rank, 
 fortune, or fashion, as the idol before him. 
 
 However that may be, the Chevalier de Lunatico, Laura, and 
 Worrel, like every other being, lunar or terrestrial, reckoned without 
 their host. Tlie learned and disputatious reader may perhaps stop 
 me here, and inquire, who is the host, that we so frequently reckon 
 without ; who spoils the account of misers when they look upon their 
 treasure, and think that they will possess it for ever; of lovers when 
 they gaze upon their mistress, and think that a few hours shall place 
 her in their arms ; of conquerors, when they scan the bloody field, and 
 say, " but one step more to a throne " In all these cases, truly there is 
 a dark and awful host that mocks our estimate, and brings in a very 
 different bill against us. That host is. Fate! 
 
 The walking party had just passed through a broad sandy road, 
 that led straight through a wood to a brow of a hill, and were gazing 
 over the fair forest scene, Avith a blue distance of fields, and hills, and 
 villages beyond, when a servant on horseback, in a splendid livery, 
 galloped up, and put a note into Harry Worrel's hand. He opened it 
 and read, and a peculiar expression came over his countenance, a look 
 of anxious thoughtfulness, which at once made the Chevalier de Lu- 
 natico perceive that something was the matter. The fair Laura also 
 appeared to have some suspicion that the note was not of a pleasant 
 kind, for she asked him, laughingly, what it was about, adding some- 
 thing in regard to woman's curiosity. 
 
I>£ LUXATICO INQUIREXDO. HI 
 
 *' Notliing, Laura, nothing," replied Harry Worrel, putting it into 
 his pocket : " an invitation to a ball at Outrun Castle." 
 
 " Oil! we shall have a card, too," said Laura; "but I certainly shall 
 not go. I detest that Henry Frederick Fitzurse." 
 
 "I don't think you will be invited," said Worrel, gravely: "you 
 have shown your dislike to him very plainly, Laura." 
 
 The conversation there dropped, and the chevalier and his friends 
 took their way back towards the house. They had contrived, how- 
 ever, to spend more than four hours in their ramble, by the time they 
 reached home, and the fair Laura, complaining that her pretty little 
 feet were tired, went in to rest herself, while Worrel and the chevalier 
 took a turn together in the garden. 
 
 " And now, my young friend," said Mr. de Lunatico, " what were 
 the contents of that note ? I must entreat you to let me know, for I 
 feel very sure that it contained no invitation to a ball." 
 
 " To a pistol ball," said Worrell, gravely : " and I really do not 
 know where to seek a friend upon the occasion. My cousin, Mr. 
 Longmore, is out of the question in such a business as this, and you, 
 my dear chevalier " 
 
 "Will be very happy to assist you," he replied, interrupting his 
 companion. " You know we people of the moon are the greatest 
 duellists in the universe, and sooner or later we have every man that 
 lights another upon tliis earth sent up, by warrant, to take his place in 
 the lunatic world. That, however, is not exactly my object in offering 
 to accompany you ; that object I will explain afterwards ; but, in the 
 first place, tell me, what is the cause of quarrel assigned by your 
 honourable opponent, or has he any quarrel witli you at all ?" 
 
 " None whatever," replied Worrel. " He simply demands that I 
 should give up all claim to the hand of Laura Longmore, cease to 
 visit at her father's house for the next six months, and quit this part 
 of the country, or fight him without further delay. Now, as I 
 certainly shall not resign my claim upon Laura's hand till I resign 
 my life, I suppose I must give him the meeting he requires ; though, 
 heaven knows, if he was to shoot me to-morrow, there is no chance of 
 his obtaining Laura, for she herself detests him ; and I have often 
 heard Mr. Longmore himself say, that he is puzzled to know whether 
 Henry Fitzurse is most knave, fool, or debauchee. Fight him, how- 
 ever, I must." 
 
 " Oh ! certainly, certainly," said the chevalier ; " upon the very 
 most approved principles of society, which, by a general and invariable 
 law, gives every blackguard, villain, scoundrel, knave, and ass, a right 
 to fire one or two pistol-shots at any good and exemplary man whom 
 he chooses to call upon, while that man has the great compensation of 
 firing at him ngain in return, if he thinks fit to do so — though perhaps 
 he may look upon it as murder. Oh, say not a word more ; I know 
 all about duelling ; we have a space put apart for that species of 
 amusement in tlie moon." 
 
 " You are very severe," said Henry Worrel ; " and I abhor the 
 practice as much as you can do ; but I see not how it can be avoided^ 
 
22 THE COMMtSStOS^Eft ; oit, 
 
 either in my omhi, or in many other instances. You would not, surely, 
 have me give up Laura at tlie wild bullying of this Henry Fitzurse !" 
 
 " Oh, no," replied the chevalier, " that is quite impossible ; but I 
 think, on the contrary, that there is a very good chance of your 
 making him give her up." 
 
 " How so ?" demanded Worrel, eagerly. " Though I care not much 
 whether he gives her up or not, for her father would certainly never 
 marry her to such an animal as that." 
 
 It was very evident, from the tone in which he spoke, that Worrel 
 did not feel quite so certain of the matter as his words implied ; and 
 the Chevalier de Lunatico thought it right to undeceive him alto- 
 gether. No words can express the poor young man's despair when he 
 heard the purposes of Mr. Longmore ; but the chevalier comforted him 
 in some degree by saying : — 
 
 " I have a plan for you, my good young friend, by which, as I told 
 you, we may perhaps, drive this Fitzurse out of the field. 1 hear he 
 is a desperate coward, and his sending you such an insolent letter only 
 shows that such is the case. Show yourself more ready to fight him 
 than he is to fight you : write him, this very night, an answer, telling 
 him that you will not bear such conduct for a single day : appoint the 
 meeting for the earliest possible hour to-morrow morning, and tell him 
 that he or you do- not quit the field alive. I think I could take upon 
 myself to say, that he will instantly attempt to -withdraw his cartel : 
 and, as I will bear your note to him, I will give him the opportmiity 
 of so doing, upon condition that he quits the pursuit of the fair Laura 
 for ever." 
 
 Harry Worrel looked down upon the ground for a moment or two 
 in silence. He was as brave as any man need be — as ready to front 
 danger and death, when needful, as any man in Europe. He knew 
 also, that it is w^ell to do a disagreeable thing, when it must be 
 done, as speedily as possible : so that his judgment told him the plan 
 proposed by his dear, new-found friend was the very best that could 
 be devised : yet there was something in the idea of so speedily parting 
 with the bright things of life, of leaving perhaps but one anxious 
 night between him and fate — of parting, in a few short hours, very 
 likely for ever, with the dear being w ho had become the charm of his 
 existence: there was something in all this, I say, that made him 
 thoughtful. His mind, however, w\as soon made up ; and, as the 
 human heart is but a bit of cork upon the top of the waves of life, 
 now tossed up, now sinking down, but never going to the bottom 
 altogether, his heart rose the next instant, and he proceeded to act 
 upon the suggestion of the chevalier, having very good reason to know 
 that those who calculated upon his opponent's cowardice w ere not likely 
 to be far astray. The whole matter was now soon settled : the 
 day was by this time wearing towards the evening, and it was agreed 
 that the chevalier and his young friend should ride over together that 
 night to a small village, near Outrun Castle, as if intending to make 
 an expedition to some curious old Koman remains on the following 
 morning ; that the chevalier shoidd carry Harry Worrell's note from 
 
DE lAJNATiCO INQUmENBO. 
 
 ^ 
 
 the village that night, and tliat tljey should wait at the small inn at 
 the place till the proposed meeting of the following morning, in 
 case the result of Mr. de Lunatico's plan was not such as they antici- 
 pated. 
 
 Mr. I.ongmore, as the reader knows, had his own peculiar habits, 
 and amongst others was that of dining at half-past four o'clock pre- 
 cisely, in which vicious practice he had indulged for at least thirty 
 years. Great was the uneasiness that this occasioned at various times ; 
 for, although we have invented steam-kitchens, we have not yet, alas ! 
 been able to invent steam-cooks. Mr. Longmore regulated his clocks 
 by the sun every day ; but, alas ! he could not regulate the tenants of 
 the kitchen. Sometimes the dinner would be five minutes too soon, 
 sometimes it would be five minutes too late, and sometimes the cook's 
 thumb held back the march cf old time upon the face of the dial, by 
 a dexterous application to the longer of those two wandering hands, 
 which, very nmch like the course of human knowledge, are always 
 moving on from hour to hour, yet never getting any farther from the one 
 central point to which they are fixed down. This event — and it was not 
 unfrequent — both annoyed and puzzled the old philosopher. He had 
 the best clocks and watches in Europe, and yet there was something 
 in the atmosphere of the kitchen which made the finest piece of me- 
 chanism that ever was invented go wrong as soon as it got there. 
 Such was the case on the present day : diimer was not on the table for 
 a full cprarter of an hour after half-past four by Mr. Longmore's own 
 chronometer. The cook appealed to her clock, the clock justified the 
 cook, and Mr. Longmore, in a state of considerable excitement, cried 
 " Pish !" at the fish, " Pshaw !" at the soup, and was only restored to 
 equanimity by the sight of a venison pasty, the inner parts of which 
 were a present from Outrun park. It was with some difficulty, then, 
 that a favourable moment was found for communicating to the old gen- 
 tleman the proposed expedition of Harry Worrel and the chevalier to the 
 Koman remains, in the neighbourhood of Outrun Castle, and when it 
 was done Mr. Longmore looked surprised, and Laura surprised, and 
 not well satisfied. The good philosopher, however, soon made up his 
 mind to the matter, agreed that early in the morning was the best 
 time to see the ruins, regretted gi-eatly that he could not be of the 
 party, wdiich was impossible, as he had a little afi'air with the sun about 
 that time, but ofiered, for the chevalier's use, his own neat cantering 
 cob galloway, which, like every thing else that he possessed, was, in 
 Mr. Longmore's estimation, the best thing of its kind in the world. 
 This being settled, the pony saddled and brought round, and a parting 
 glass drank to the success of their expedition, the chevalier and his 
 young friend took leave to depart. Laura shook hands with them 
 both, but the Chevalier de Lunatico thought that he perceived in her 
 countenance an expression somewhat sad and reproachful as she bade 
 hei" lover adieu. He saw at once that she had suspicions that their 
 errand Mas not that which it seemed. However, as no man ever yet 
 considered tlie feelings of liis wife, the situation of his children, the 
 lia])pines3, or even the existence of any of his friends or de[)cndents, 
 
24 thj: commissioner ; or, 
 
 or, in short, any other such minor and unimportant matters, when 
 he was going to yield to the fashion of the workl, Harry Worrel tore 
 himself away with as comfortable an air as he could assume, and 
 mounting his own horse, Avhile Mr. de Lunatico bestrode the round, 
 cantering, cob galloway of good Mr. Longmore, they set off at a quiet 
 pace, in the cool calmness of a fine spring evening. 
 
 For a couple of miles they were very silent, but at length the che^ a- 
 lier, always having the end of his perquisitions in view, thought fit to 
 address a few questions to his companion ; inquiring in the first place, 
 in a quiet, easy tone, whether he went upon this affair with tlie 
 most comfortable feelings in the world. 
 
 " Not exactly," answered Harry Worrel, with that peculiar sort of can- 
 dour which the chevalier engendered in all with whom he was brought 
 in contact. " In the first place, my dear chevalier, I look upon duelling 
 as criminal, as foolish, and as blackguard. 1 wouldn't tell any body 
 but you for the world that such are my opinions, and I shall certainly 
 take care on all occasions to make every body believe that I go to fight 
 my man as quietly as I sit down to eat my dinner ; and that I look 
 upon the practice as absolutely necessary to society, for the purpose of 
 giving every man, who is injured or insulted, a sort of ultima ratio to 
 whicli there is no reply. In the next place, I dont like the idea of 
 being killed at all, and, do what I will to prevent it, the thought of a 
 nasty, hard bullet coming and sticking into me like a piece of hot iron, 
 will present itself to my imagination. Nevertheless, as I have tolerably 
 good nerves, not very easily shaken, that will never prevent me from 
 going out with an unpleasant friend. The thing that is most disagree- 
 able to me, is, I confess, the thought of killing a fellow creature in cold 
 blood. I know and feel, and am perfectly aware, that 1 am just as 
 much committing a murder as if I cut a man's throat in his bed, and 
 ought to be hanged for it too, only, thank God, we have plenty of jury- 
 men in England, who are quite ready to perjure themselves whenever 
 a gentleman thinks fit to shoot another through the head, and to find 
 liim not guilty, though, if a poor man had done it, driven by starva- 
 tion, they would hang him as high as Haman. Thus I am sure of 
 immunity in this world ; and, as to the next, Macbeth says : — 
 
 If the assassination 
 
 Could trammel up the consequences, and catch 
 With this surcease, success ; that but this Llow 
 Might be the be-all, and the end-all here — 
 But here upon this bank and shoal of time — 
 We'd jump the world to come." 
 
 Besides, this sort of murder, unlike all others, is punished by the 
 world, if we do not commit it, and not if we do. So now, my dear 
 chevalier, having told you all I think upon this subject, let us change 
 the topic, for on my life it isn't a pleasant one, and 1 would rather 
 think of something else." 
 
 " With all my heart," said the chevalier, muttering to himself. " He 
 won't quite do for the moon. But pray tell me, good Mr. Worrel, what 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 25 
 
 is ygur relationship to worthy Mr. Longmore ? I have heard from cer- 
 tain persons that a body of lunatics, a good many years ago enacted a 
 code of la^vs, by which cousuis to the third or fouilh degree, were 
 forbidden from marrying." 
 
 " Oh, we have changed all that," said Harry Worrel. " In our 
 country we did away with all the prohibitions in regard to marrying 
 near relations, except, exactly brothers and sisters, uncles and nieces, 
 grandmothers and grandsons ; but in pure opposition to the Bible we 
 have retained strictly the prohibition in regard to a widow marrying 
 her brother-in-law, or a man marrying his dead wife's sister, though 
 the latter is the most natural marriage in the world, and one which 
 is likely to prove the happiest for the first wife's children, if she leave 
 any." 
 
 The obstacle, between Laura and myself, my dear sir, is want of 
 rank and fortune, on my part ; and poor Laura and I both fear, when 
 we give ourselves time to think of it, that this obstacle will never be 
 removed ; for good Mr. Longmore, not\vithstanding all his philosophy, 
 has so great a reverence for wealth and title, and so great a hatred for 
 poverty and democracy, that I am afraid there is very little chance of 
 obtaining his consent, unless I can obtain wealth and distinction in the 
 first place." 
 
 " You must try, my young friend, you must try," said the chevalier ; 
 " and, perhaps, if you were to make up your mind to quit your fair 
 Laura for a month or two, and go on a tour with me, you might have 
 opportunities of looking about you, which you will not easily find 
 under other circumstances. Tliink of it, think of it ; and now go on 
 with yoiu* story." 
 
 " I have no story to tell," replied Harry, " or at least a very short 
 one. My father was nephew to good Mr. Longmore, who did not marry 
 till late in life, and being determined, as he thought, not to marry at 
 all, he engaged my parent to quit the bar, at which he was practising 
 with some success, in London, and come down and stay with him, in- 
 tending to make him his heir. Scarcely, however, had my father been 
 here tliree years, when Mr. Longmore, as gentlemen of fifty-five will 
 sometimes do, thought fit to fall in love with a girl of twenty, married 
 her, and in due time was the father of my sweet Laura. Not being 
 in v.-ant of an heir any longer, he did not know well what to do with my 
 father, whose prospects at the bar were spoiled. He obtained for him, 
 therefore, the agency of the castle Outrun estates, in the neigh- 
 boiuhood of which both my parents were born ; but at the end of 
 five or six years, my father died, and my mother was left with but a very 
 small income. My uncle, however, who was an oflEicer in the army, 
 assisted her as far as his means would permit, though his own fortune 
 was very limited. He was extremely kind to us as long as he lived, 
 and many a time do I remember him coming down, holding me in his 
 arms like a second father, and loading me with little presents and toys. 
 But my poor uncle was killed at the last gi-eat battle, and though he 
 left to my mother and myself all his little property, to the amount of 
 about two hundi'ed a year, it did not at all console us for his loss." 
 
26 The commissioner ; or, 
 
 " And is your motlier still living ?" demanded the chevalier. 
 
 " No," replied Worrell, in a grave tone, " I am alone." 
 
 There was a degree of melancholy in his manner which struck the 
 chevalier, and prevented him from proceeding ; for it must be recol- 
 lected that the few drops which that gentleman had taken out of his 
 phial, had taught him at once to sympathise with Harry Worrell and 
 Laura ; and he found his condition very unpleasant in consequence. 
 Every man has enough to do with his own griefs, and should not 
 meddle with other people's ; and thus the Chevalier de Lunatico now 
 discovered that he had done a very foolish act in dabbling with sym- 
 pathy at all. 
 
 " I will never do it again as long as 1 live," said the chevalier. 
 
 But the chevalier's resolutions were like other men's, as the reader 
 ■will see before he gets to the end of the history. However that may 
 be, the two jogged on in silence beside one another for a distance and 
 a time that would have killed a Frenchman ; and as they did so, the 
 universe began to put on its gray dressing-gown, previous to the 
 world's going to bed. The figure may seem a strange one, and cer- 
 tainly is not so pretty as that of Shakespeare, when he says — 
 
 " See when the morn in russet mantle clad 
 Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill." 
 
 But what I mean by it is, that the light began to forsake the sky, and 
 all things around fell into the dusky hue of evening. 
 
 At length, as they were passing a finger-post, where a road branched 
 off" from that which they were pursuing, Harry Worrel renewed the 
 conversation by saying, — 
 
 " A few furlongs farther, and we are at the little inn, which is as 
 comfortbale a one as any man could choose to pass a quiet evening in ; 
 but, as you are destined for another ride to-night, my dear friend, pray, 
 remark that road on the left ; for it takes you onward in a straiglit line 
 to Outrun Castle. At the distance of about a mile, you will come to 
 the wall of the park, which extends for nearly two miles along the road, 
 without any break, gap, or interval, except the two gates ; the first of 
 which is a large iron one, without any lodge, only opened upon great 
 occasions. The other gate, about half a mile beyond, has a lodge, and 
 there you will gain admittance. I tliink you had better set off very 
 soon after we get to the inn, that we may take our measures according 
 to your report." 
 
 *' WVll wait till the moon is up," said the chevalier ; " I like to ride 
 in the moonlight. It is an old habit of mine ; but in the meantime you 
 have to write your letter, and you must think about the pistols, too." 
 
 " I will send for them," replied Worrel ; " I have a pair belonging 
 to my uncle ; and as to the letter, it will soon be written ; but the 
 moon rises at nine o'clock, and that cannot be far off." 
 
 All was pleasant, and if we may use the term, quiet bustle at the 
 little inn, on the arrival of Harry Worrel and his companion. The 
 former seemed well known to the landladv and to all the servants of the 
 
D£ liUNAtlCO I?JQIJtRENt)0. 27 
 
 house ; and many were the respectful gratulations which he received, 
 as he dismounted from his horse. The good hostess was a widow — ■ 
 certainly past the prime of life — but still so fat, so fair, so rosy, 
 and so smiling, with lips so pouting, eyes so bright, and hair so 
 little mixed with gray, that what between her good looks, the repu- 
 tation of having made her first husband very happy, and the certainty 
 of her being well to do in the world, many a gay swain in the village 
 and the neighbourhood had shown an unequivocal disposition to 
 occupy the place which good Josiah Muggins had left vacant. — 
 Mrs. Muggins, however, looked upon a husband as a piece of bed- 
 room furniture that might very well be dispensed with by a lady in her 
 fiftietli year; and, consequently, though she was kind and civil to 
 every body, laughed with one, and jested with another, sold ale to all 
 who would drink it, and gave away a good many trifles to the poor 
 and needy, she showed herself much less liberal to her lovers ; would 
 insist upon regarding all their sweet things as a joke ; and with a 
 propriety whicli we recommend much to the consideration of all young 
 ladies, never suffered any man to come to a declaration, being resolved 
 not to accept him if he did. 
 
 By this good dame, as we have said, was Harry Worrel not only 
 civilly but affectionately received. 
 
 " Lord bless you, dear life !" she said, " how happy I am to see 
 you — what a time it is since you have been at the Half-Moon !" 
 
 The Chevalier de Lunatico pricked up his ears ; but Mrs. Muggins 
 proceeded, — 
 
 " All your old friends will be so happy to see you, sir, if you stay 
 a little while in the village. Here, Sally, get ready number two for 
 Master Harry, and number three for the other gentleman ; I see they 
 are come to stay. John Ostler, take round the gentlemen's horses. 
 Lord bless you, sir, I know when gentlemen intend to stop the niglit 
 with half an eye. Here, Joey Pike, show Master Harry into the little 
 parlour. I have had a leotle bit of fire lighted in it, sir, this afternoon, 
 to keep it wai-m, for the nights are still frosty. Joey Pike, I say, what 
 do you stand there in an attitude for, thinking yourself the Polly of 
 Belvidere ? Lord bless the lad I with his airs and graces. Be quick, I 
 say." 
 
 " Ah, Joey," cried Worrel, addressing a lad who was intended for 
 a waiter, but who wiis decorated with a crimson velvet waistcoat, and 
 a green silk handkercliief round his neck, " ah, Joey, have you come 
 back into the country ? Why, I thought you had got a good place in 
 London." 
 
 " Yes, sir, I had," answered Joey Pike, in a sweet and lisping tone, 
 and with a low and graceful bow ; " but my poor master was inclined to 
 a consmnption, and recommended to Italian climes ; so I accompanied 
 him, sir, to Naples — Bella Napoli, as tJiey call it — wliere he died 
 under my hands. For tlie hist six weeks, sir, I fed him night and 
 day with vollyvents and consummy, thinking to keep his strength up ; 
 but he fell into a faiblessc^ as the French call it, and went from sing' 
 cvpj^y to sinycuppi/y till he drew the last sigh ; and, to my infinite 
 
28 TilE COMMISSIONER ; OB, 
 
 regret, expired. He left me ^vith a strong recommendation to his 
 friends ; but I will never have a strong recommendation as long as I 
 live again. It is the worst thing in the world, sir ; for they kept me on 
 in London, always promising to get me a good place, until I was very 
 nearly upon the ;j<2i;y, and never did any thing for me after all. I waited 
 till I liad spent every thing but fourteen shillings and ninepence ; and 
 then I said to myself, fourteen shillings is just the fair on the top of the 
 diligence down to Outrun ; fivepence will get me a roll and a couple 
 of red herrings, and with the fourpence that remains, I can say with 
 the doctors, fiat haustus, which means, I am told, take a draught. 
 Says I to myself, there's good Mrs. Muggins, a bong femme, if ever 
 there was one," and he laid his hand vipon his heart, and bowed his 
 head gracefully towards the landlady ; but she, on her part, cut him 
 short, exclaiming, — 
 
 " Hold your tongue, you fool, Joey, and show the gentlemen into 
 the parlour. Will you keep them in the passage all night ?" 
 
 "Madam, I will do it incessantly^'' replied Joey, and marching a 
 step or two forward, he threw open the door with an exquisite wave of 
 the hand, drew himself up, with his head a little leaning on the right 
 side, and his feet in the fifth position, and suffering them to pass in, 
 followed with the good landlady to ascertain their farther wants and 
 wishes. 
 
 " Nothing, thank you, Mrs. Muggins," replied Worrel to the lady's 
 inquiries ; " nothing but some tea and toast, a pen and ink, and a 
 few sheets of writing paper. Will you send in the tea made, Mrs. 
 Muggins?" 
 
 " For the paper I will be responsible," cried Joey Pike ; " where can 
 the inky-ostro be ? I mean the inkstand, Mrs. Muggins, and quelle 
 piume that I left here only this morning. . That's the barmaid's doing, 
 Mrs. Muggins. She has taken them, I'll warrant. I'd teach her, if I 
 were you, to feather her nest with other things than pens out of the 
 parlour." 
 
 " There they are you fool in the corner cupboard," said Mrs. 
 Muggins. "Put them down qviick^ and then go out of the room. You 
 only tease the gentlemen with your chattering and your scraps of lan- 
 gviages not half so good as your own." 
 
 Joey Pike drew himself up, " I am not accustomed to chatter, 
 madam," he said, with an air of impressive dignity, " though on this 
 occasion, my bonnhoor, at seeing Master Harry again so unexpectedly, 
 may have increased my loquacity." 
 
 Thus saying, he placed the inkstand and pens upon the table, waved 
 Mrs. Muggins gracefully to precede him, and then with a motion 
 somewhat like that of a cat stealing up to a bird, followed her out of 
 the room, closing the door after him in the most noiseless possible 
 manner. 
 
 The parlour was a low-roofed wainscotted chamber, with a fire-place, 
 which, as that is not a coal district, was unconscious of any fuel but 
 wood. The dark brown oak on the w alls, the mouldings and the cor- 
 nices, though a little warped by the effect of many a drying summer's 
 
1 
 
t^y/?^^' /V'U// /'' ^^•' 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 29 
 
 sun, were all as neatly polished and varnished as possible. The floor 
 and drugget that covered it were as clean as it is possible to conceive. 
 The bright mahogany of the table reflected the light of the candles 
 like a mirror ; and, in short, there -was an air of homely cheerfulness 
 about the aspect of the whole chamber which made one feel very com- 
 fortable in the enjoyment of life, and all life's blessings. It accorded 
 ill with the feelings and purposes of Harry Worrel at that moment ; 
 for though it is a very difficult thing to say where death is least unpa- 
 latable, yet it certainly is not where we find om'selves very com- 
 fortable in life. The Chevalier de Lunatico, however, had just time to 
 stir the blazing pieces of wood on the hearth, and Harry Worrel to 
 gaze round the well-known room, recalling the memories of many 
 a pleasant day, when Joey Pike returned with a quire of paper, 
 which he dropped delicately before the latter gentleman, maintaining 
 the most profound silence, for the purpose of disproving Mrs. Muggins's 
 charge of loquacity. 
 
 The Chevalier de Limatico, however, seemed inclined to enter into 
 conversation with him; for after telling him to see that his horse Mas 
 not unsaddled, as he had another ride to take that night, he asked him 
 what time the moon would be visible. Joey was seldom, if ever, found 
 at fault ; and on this occasion he gave the chevalier an account of the 
 very moment when the planet would rise, and when she would ai)pear 
 above the neighbouring trees. " We had last night," he said, " a magnifi- 
 cent dare de Loon, and I trust that the same will be the case to-night, 
 for the sky is poorissimo" 
 
 "I trust that it may be so," said the chevalier; "and so, my good 
 fellow, you have been seeking a place?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, yes," replied Joey, "I have been seeking what my Italian 
 friends call a piazza, but I found none but the piazza of Covent-garden, 
 which is certainly not the best place that any young man could find, 
 especially when he is somewhat subject to the tender passion." 
 
 "Joey, Joey," cried the voice of the landlady. " That chattering boy 
 is teasing the gentlemen again — this will never do — I shall be obliged 
 to get rid of him. Yet he is a clever boy, and a good one — I declare 1 do 
 not know ^hat to do — Joey, Joey, I say." 
 
 " Or//«no, Orffano" cried Joey, "she is an excellent woman, that 
 Mrs. Muggins, a good, motherly, excellent person, but she cannot bear 
 any person to talk but herself," and thus saying, he hurried out of the' 
 room, leaving the chevalier to his own meditations, and Hd,rry Worrel 
 to the composition of the letter, which he had already begun. 
 
 The letter was soon -smtten, the chevalier mounted his horse and rode 
 away, and Harry Worrel stood alone in the little parlour with his back to 
 the Avood fire, which by this time had crackled itself to sleep, and was 
 lying in glowing embers amidst white ashes on the hearth, like the 
 cheerful light which sometimes remains to brighten a happy old age. 
 His thoughts were of his father's house. It is difficult to tell why : but 
 when any of those pauses take place which sometimes come in amidst 
 the fiercest struggles and most striking events of life — one of those 
 
30 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 pauses that occur between the purpose and the act, between the 
 excited passion and the result — I know not why it is, but the mind 
 always reverts to the cahii sweet liours of youth and boyhood, to the 
 peaceful scenes in which our early days were past, to innocent enjoy- 
 ments, pleasures that we can taste no longer, feelings that can be felt 
 no more. Worrel's thoughts, I say, were of his father's liouse, which had 
 been situated not far from the spot where he then stood, and under 
 the influence of the moment, pageant-like visions of happy sports 
 amidst the woods and fields around, the merry game, the quickly past 
 sorrow, the fleeting cloud and the gay sunshine of infancy came up 
 before the wand of the enchanter, Memory, as if to contrast themselves 
 in their gliostly beauty with the eager wishes, and the fierce anxieties 
 of manhood. 
 
 He had not long indulged in this manner, when the door quietly 
 opened, and in glided his good landlady with a lighter step than might 
 have been anticipated from the ample volume of good things she 
 bore about with her. 
 
 " Beg pardon for intruding. Master Harry," she said ; " but I could 
 not help coming in, now the other gentleman is gone, to say how glad 
 I am to see you again — why it is full a twelvemonth since you have 
 been here : I thought you had forgotten us all." 
 
 " Oh, no," replied Harry Worrel, " I never forget old friends. 
 Pray sit down, Mrs. Muggins, and pour me out another cup of tea. I 
 shall like it the better if it comes from your hand." 
 
 " Lord, Master Harry !" said the landlady, sitting down witli a sim- 
 per, and a well pleased air. " However, many's the cup of tea I 
 have made for you in other days, ay, and for the colonel too, and I 
 should never wish to make tea for a nicer man." 
 
 " He was here a great deal after my father's death," said Harry 
 abstractedly. 
 
 " Ay, and before too," said the landlady : " a very handsome man 
 he \vas as ever I set eyes upon. I recollect him before you were born, 
 Master Harry, and all the girls in the village were dying for him, and 
 so were a great many others more in his own station, one in particular, 
 but that was a sad story." 
 
 " I never heard it," said Worrel, " what was that ?" 
 
 " Why, did you never hear of Lady Maria falling in love with 
 him ?" said the landlady ; " my lord's daughter here up at the castle, 
 that is to say the old lord's daughter, and how they found her walk- 
 ing secretly with him in the park, and the quarrel that took place, 
 and the duel between your uncle and the present lord ? Why they 
 fought in the lane between the two walls, and your uncle shot my 
 lord, and left him for dead, and then Lady Maria was sent away for a 
 long time, and it preyed upon her mind, poor thing, and she faded, 
 just as one sees a flower do, when one plucks it and gives it no water. 
 She never forgot her love, that she didn't, poor girl ; for I recollect, at 
 length, when your father and mother came down — at the time ]\Tr. 
 Longmore talked of making him his heir, and tliey stayed at this house 
 with you, then a little boy — she came in suddenly one day to see 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 31 
 
 them, but something was said, I suppose, that made her think of past 
 times, for she fi\inted dead away, and I was called to help her. We 
 could not bring her to for near an hoiu", and then she cried as if her 
 heart would break, poor thing. So she was nearly two hours in the 
 house altogether, and yet terribly afraid all the time that people should 
 send to seek her. However, nothing came of it then, but she was ill 
 at the time, and she got worse from that hour till she died.'* 
 
 " Poor thing," said Harry Worrel, with feelings of affection and 
 tenderness rising up in his heart for a being of whose existence he had 
 not the slightest idea five minutes before. 
 
 It is a strange tiling the human body, and a strange thing the hu- 
 man mind, that a certain number of percussions of the air, produced 
 by tlie lungs, and modulated by the glotis, epiglotis, tongue, teeth, and 
 lips of the hostess, should make Worrel's bosom feel very queer, and his 
 eyes to have a strong inclination to run over with tears, as if he had 
 been a pump, and somebody had worked the handle. If man is a mere 
 galvanic machine, as some philosophers believe, he is a very curious one 
 — but somehow, I do not think that it is so. 
 
 However that may be, it is high time to follow the other two pieces 
 of mechanism, who were making their way on in the moonlight 
 towards Outrun Castle, namely, the Chevalier de Lunatico and his horse. 
 The cantering galloway proceeded at a quiet, comfortable pace, just as 
 he had been accustomed to employ when carrying Mr. Longmore after 
 a pair of slate-coloured greyhounds, before the hare, which they were 
 destined to run after, had been found, poor thing, sitting in her plashy 
 form ; and Mr. de Lunatico exceedingly comfortable both in the moon- 
 sliine where he was quite in his element, and in rapid and easy motion, — 
 which certainly is a thing that must be most agreeable to every one, except, 
 perhaps, a tortoise, who objects to all velocity, and a frog, who loves to 
 advance salthn, — went on considering the characters of the persons 
 he had lately seen, and the best means of pursuing his investigations 
 farther. After he had done with those subjects, he took to looking at 
 the country, and could not help thinking it very like some of the scenes 
 he liad beheld in his own sphere. The night was as beautiful a one 
 as it was possible to see, and his way ran through a wooded lane. For 
 some way it was fringed on either side by scrubby oaks — occasionally 
 approaching close to the road, and narrowing it within two hedges — 
 occasionally breakmg away and leaving a space of rugged ground with 
 dingles, dells, and high banks, in which the moonlight and the dark 
 shadow lay quietly side by side, like husband and wife joined together 
 for life, a sort of Desdemona and Othello. At length, however, a good 
 tall brick wall appeared, flanking the lane on the right hand, while 
 a high bank rose on the- other side with a hedge running along the top 
 for some way, which, after a certain extent again gave place to masonry, 
 and another wall appeared with some hawthorn bushes and some 
 brambles at its foot. 
 
 Had the clievalier heard the landlady's story, he would have said 
 to liimself, " Tiiis is the place where Colonel Worrel fought his 
 sweetheiu-t's brother;" but as it was, he was unconscious of the 
 
32 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 interest of the scene, and he and his horse cantered on together 
 without saying a word to each other. He had gone about half a mile 
 between these two walls when suddenly a figure started out from the 
 bushes we have talked of, caught hold of his bridle, put a pistol to his 
 breast, and asked him for his money. As this is a commodity with 
 which he had been plentifully supplied before he set out, and as he 
 was well aware that all his expenses were to be paid, upon the same 
 liberal scale as other diplomatists, whereas, a hole through his body was 
 not likely to be amended without considerable difficulty, the chevalier 
 put his hand in his pocket, pulled out a considerable handful, and be- 
 stowed it upon the covetous stranger with the best grace in the world. 
 His applicant, however, was not satisfied, but in a thundering tone of 
 voice commanding him to stand as still as a stock-fish, in that exact 
 spot, while he ran away. 
 
 The chevalier neither assented nor dissented, but suffered the 
 worthy gentleman to proceed about a hundred yards, and then fol- 
 lowed him at a wary pace, fully resolved to see where he went to, 
 but to keep a tolerable space of ground between them. The moon, 
 most complacently, shone bright down the lane, so that the figure of 
 the robber, who was a tall, stout, heavy man, was as clear and distinct 
 as if it had been day light ; and the chevalier rode on perfectly certain 
 of being able to trace him, especially as the walls soon became clear of 
 all brushwood at the foot, and there seemed not the slightest possibility 
 of escape. When the man with the pistols found that he was followed, 
 he appeared very furious, paused, shouted, and held up his hand with a 
 threatening gesture ; but as he halted, the chevalier halted — as he went 
 on, the chevalier went on — and thus they had proceeded for about five 
 hundred yards, when suddenly to Mr. de Lunatico's horror, surprise, 
 and astonishment, the stout personage he was pursuing suddenly dis- 
 appeared, as if he had been swallowed up by the earth. He now rode 
 on in haste, but nothing could he discover of his fugitive friend, nor 
 any possible means of escape. There were the great gates of the park, 
 it is true, at no great distance, but they consisted of nothing but a tall 
 grating of iron, over which it was impossible to climb, and on shaking 
 them with his hand the chevalier found that they were firmly locked. 
 
/ 
 
 DE LUNATICO INQUIREKDO. 33 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE CHEVALIER PBOPOSES A NEW WAY OF STOPPING HIGHWAY BOBBERY HE T6 
 
 . INTRODUCED TO SOME GENTLEMEN OF BANK AND CONSEQUENCE FINDS THE SOFT 
 
 SOLICITOR IN AN UNEXPECTED SITUATION. 
 
 Not a little puzzled was Mr. de Lunatico. He paused, he considered, 
 he turned the matter every possible way in his mind, and yet he could 
 make nothing of it: and finding that such was positively the case, he 
 wisely gave the matter up, and rode on. About a quarter of a mile 
 in advance, the chevalier came to the lesser gates with the lodge 
 attached, at which he had been told to apply, and ringing a large bell 
 that presented itself to his hand on the right side, he was admitted in 
 a minute by a rosy boy in a smock frock. The chevalier having 
 entered, found himself in face of the lodge, the door of which was 
 open, with a scene of comfortable peasant-life presented within, such 
 as perhaps is not to be met with in any other country than England. 
 The aspect was so pleasant and cheerful, that the chevalier dis- 
 mounted from his horse, and went in not only to ask his way up to the 
 house, but also to give notice of the robbery which had been com- 
 mitted. He expected to find nothing but contentment and happiness, 
 but in this he was mistaken. Tlie mastiff-like growl of the English 
 peasant was not banished even there; and when he spoke to the 
 man about the pleasant look of his cottage, and the comfortable life 
 he must lead, the good fellow found half-a-dozen things to grumble at, 
 and his wife chimed in with half-a-dozen more. When they heard of 
 the robbery, however, they both shook their heads, exclaiming, " What, 
 again? There have been a good many there, sir, lately, and nobody 
 has ever been able to discover who does it, or how it is done. It had 
 stopped for a fortnight, and so we thought the thing was over ; I am 
 sorry it's begun again, for this, you see, is the chief road between 
 Outrun and Market Greenford, and all the poor market-women will 
 be losing their money as they come home of a night." 
 
 " Let them all club together, and baste the villain heartily," said the 
 Chevalier de Lunatico, or let them scratch his eyes out, or set him in 
 the middle of them, and talk at him tiU he is dead. Twenty or thirty 
 women could easily punish one man in various ways." 
 
 " Ah, sir, but perhaps there are many of them," said the woman. 
 
 " These are hard times, sir," said the man in a gruff" tone, " and drive 
 many a poor fellow to take to the road. Would you like the boy to go 
 up and show you the way to the house ?" he continued impatiently, for 
 an English peasant soon has enough of talking to a gentleman ; and as 
 he spoke, he retiu^ned with zeal and devotion to the toasting of his 
 
 C KG. 2. D 
 
3-^ THE commissioner; or, 
 
 bacon. The clievalier, however, having learned the way, declined the 
 boy's assistance, and remoimting the cantering galloway, who had 
 looked round several times to see if he was coming, he proceeded 
 easily along the road which led towards Castle Outrun itself. He was 
 in no hurry, it is true, to quit so fair a scene as that which spread 
 around him, for the well-gravelled road lay amidst those wild expanses 
 of green turf, occasional clunii^s of magnificent trees, wild hill sides 
 covered with fern, deep, dingly dells, and from time to time, pieces of 
 water, which characterize an English park, and the whole was silvered 
 over with the brightest moonshine. Seen at that period of the nighty 
 when the chevalier approached it, the mansion itself was certainly an 
 imposing pile of building, consisting of large masses of stone-work 
 in the castellated style, with small windows peeping out here and 
 there, and a broad terrace spreading round. The moonlight was suffi- 
 cient to show the grand features of the place, but none of the defects. 
 Had the sun been there, grass growing amongst the gravel of the ter- 
 race, stones falling from different parts of the building, windows broken 
 and shut up, and many a sign of that decay which springs — not from 
 age ansi the slow wearing hand of time — but from the tooth of the fell 
 destroyer, neglect, would have been very apparent. Even as it was, the 
 place ha4 any thing but a cheerful aspect ; from some windows in one 
 wing, indeed, the shutters of which had not been closed, a glare of light 
 was streaming forth ; but that did not much enliven a building the rest 
 of which was all dark, giving it the look of a man with one eye. Sounds 
 of laughter and merriment, however, were heard from within as the 
 chevalier approached the door, but ceased at once as he pulled the bell 
 rope, producinjg a long, loud peal in the empty hall. Two smart ser- 
 vants, witli jjowdered heads and flaming liveries, soon after appeared, 
 and in answer to the chevalier's demand for the Honourable Henry 
 Frederick Augustus X^itzurse, said that he was stilj at dinner with the 
 noble lor4 his father. "Pray, inform him," said the visitor, "tliat the 
 Chevalier de Lunatico wishes to speak with him for a few minutes." 
 
 The lackeys stared at him with an air that would have been very 
 insolent, liad not Mr. de Lunatico's peculiar gifts produced a feeling of 
 communicativeness in those two gentlemen which they could not at all 
 resist. " He'll be precious unwilling to see you, unless he knows who 
 you are, old chap," said one of them. 
 
 "I dare say he'll think it is a bailiff," said the other; "but I can tell 
 you, if you are, you have very little regard for your own skin to come 
 down here." 
 
 "Assure the honourable gentleman that I am no bailiff at all,'* 
 replied the chevalier, "but merely a foreign gentleman travelling in 
 this country, and happening accidentally to have a little important 
 business to talk with him about." 
 
 "Well, come in, come in," said one of the men. "John take care of 
 this gentleman's horse for a minute. Come into this little room, old 
 chap, and I'll tell Mr. Fitzurse in a minute." 
 
 ; " The man is drunk," thought the Chevalier de I>unatico, following 
 into a small empty room on the opposite side of the haJl ; and though 
 the term drunk? probably gavf an e^cigg€rate4 idea of the condition ©f 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENBO. ^ 
 
 the worthy domestic, certain it is, that his intellects were not in that 
 perfect state of equilibrium which more frequently precedes than follows 
 abundant potations. While the chevalier sat in meditative mood, the 
 servant advanced through a certain long stone passage, with that pecu- 
 liar gravity of step assumed by persons labouring under an impression, 
 that it is very difficult to keep a straight line, and entering the dining- 
 room, advanced to the place where Mr. Fitzurse was seated, and told 
 him in a low and confidential tone, that a gentleman wanted to speak 
 with him. 
 
 " D — n him, let him wait," said Mr. Fitzurse, who was at that 
 moment entombing the wing of an infant duck, " I know what it is. 
 It's that business of Betsy Trollop." 
 
 " No, sir," rejoined his servant, " it's not the overseer. It's a 
 foreign gentleman, with a long funny name, which slipped away from 
 me in tlie passage. Signor Mousetrappico, I think it was." 
 
 " I'll bet you any money, Fitzurse," cried a good-looking, somewhat 
 rosy fellow on the other side of the table, with black hair, black 
 whiskers, black eyes, black eye-brows, and a black handkerchief 
 round his neck, who had overheard all that had passed — " I'll bet you 
 any money, Fitzurse, that it is Signor Musarcianciarelli." 
 
 " Yes, sir, yes, that's just it," cried the lackey. 
 
 " And who the devil is he ?" exclaimed Mr. Fitzurse. 
 
 " Why, tlie man with the violet cream," replied his companion 
 " that makes hair grow up in a couple of hours, like mustard 
 and cress — very dangerous stuft", indeed. Did you not hear what 
 happened to Lady Firebrand, the three-bottle woman ? Why, 
 going out one day last winter, the frost caught her nose ; and before 
 she got drunk that night, she told her maid to rub it well, after she was 
 in bed, with chilblain ointment. The maid got drunk as well as her 
 mistress, took Musarcianciarelli's violet cream, instead of the chilblain 
 ointment ; and, horror of horrors, next morning my lady's nose was a 
 complete bottle-brush, and the maid had a large camel's hair pencil at 
 the end of each of her lingers. Lady Firebrand sent immediately for 
 the man that shaves noses ; but the signor's violet cream beat him out 
 of the field. The more he shaved, the more the hair grew ; till at 
 length, as a last resom'ce, they determined to have it curled and 
 pomatumed, and bring it in as a new fashion." 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha !" shouted tlie Viscount Outrun, from the end of the 
 table, " very good, very good, indeed. Bring in the signor, Joseph, 
 we'll give him a glass of wine, and make him rebeaver all our old 
 hats." 
 
 " Stay, stay !" shouted his son, " this is some trick, depend upon it. 
 Shouldn't wonder if it were a bailiff. That fellow, Thomson, the 
 saddler, swore he would have me. Tom Hamilton, there's a good 
 fellow — do go and see. You ought to know a bailiff pretty well, I 
 think." • . 
 
 " That I should," answered Tom Hamilton, the gentleman ^ath 
 the black hair aforesaid, " but it's after dark, Fitzurse ; he can't make 
 a caption after dark, you know." 
 
 " But it may be to serve me with some cursed process or another,** 
 
3^ THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 rejoined the scion of the noble house of Outrun ; " do go and see — 
 there's a good fellow. Fish out of him what he wants, and then come 
 and tell me." 
 
 " If he's a bailiff, we'll horsepond him," said the peer ; "if he's a 
 mere bmn, we'll give him to the pmnp. Tripe — where's Jeremy 
 Tripe?" 
 
 " Here, my lord," said a jolly stout butler, advancing from the 
 sideboard. 
 
 " Madeira !" said the viscount, pointing to an empty decanter, 
 " we'll drink your health, Tom, while you're gone." 
 
 Tom Hamilton raised himself somewhat unwillingly from his chair, 
 in which he had made himself very comfortable ; and following the 
 footman, Joseph, he was led to the room in which the Chevalier de 
 Lunatico had been left. There was something so very imbailiff-like 
 in the whole appearance of the chevalier ; his legs were so much 
 thinner, his stomach so much flatter, his eyes so much larger, and his 
 teeth so much cleaner, than those of any bailiff in Europe, that Tom 
 Hamilton at once saw that Mr. Fitzurse's suspicions were wrong. He 
 was not dressed well enough, either, for a dancing-master, or a quack 
 doctor, or a musician. His hair went up in a frill on the top of his 
 head too, so that he could not be an independent parson, a Baptist 
 missionary, or a seller of tracts ; and though past the prime of life, 
 there was a sort of sparkling, moonshiny air about him altogether, 
 which puzzled Tom Hamilton amazingly. " Pray, be seated, sir," said 
 Tom Hamilton. 
 
 " Have I the honour of speaking to the Honourable Mr. Fitzurse ?" 
 said the chevalier. 
 
 " Not exactly, sir," replied Tom, " but his friend." 
 
 " Then, I suppose, sir," rejoined the chevalier, <• Mr. Fitzurse 
 divines the cause of my coming, and that you are here to arrange the 
 preliminaries." 
 
 " Ho, ho 1" said Tom, Hamilton, " an affair of honour, I perceive. 
 If that's the case, it makes a great difference. Pray, let us have the 
 pleasure of your company at dinner, and we will discuss the matter 
 over a glass of wine, when the servants are gone. Devilish good 
 fellow, my friend Fitzurse," he continued, under the influence of the 
 open-heartedness which the chevalier's presence always produced ; 
 " devilish good fellow, but a little bit of a blackguard too. There 
 are such things as good blackguards, and bad blackguards, you know, 
 Mr. What's-your-name. Now, Fitzurse is a bad blackguard, I'm afraid. 
 Why I keep company with him, I'm sure I don't know. His father 
 gives good dinners, that's true. Capital shooting down here too, in 
 the season, and some as good fi-shing, just now, as heart could desire. 
 Ha ! are you a brother of the angle ? Bring the speckled fellows out 
 of the stream, ha ? But come, let us finish our dinner, Mr. Whaf s- 
 your-name." 
 
 ^' My name is the Chevalier de Lunatico," replied our friend, " and 
 I dined before I came here. Nevertheless, I ^^•ill take a glass of wine 
 with you, if it be good, which I doubt not. — The party will excuse my 
 boots and my riding-dress " 
 
DE LUNA Tiro IXQI'IRENDO. 37 
 
 " By all means, by all means," cried Tom Hamilton, hastily, " no 
 ceremonies upon such occasions, chevalier ; you are quite up to these 
 sort of things, I see — seen a good many of them in your country, I 
 dare say ?" 
 
 " There are more of them amongst us than amongst any other 
 people in the universe," said the chevalier, calmly : " but may I hint 
 that we must not be long in making our arrangements ; for I 
 must return to the village, m here I left my friend to get the pistols 
 ready, and cast the bullets, and all that sort of thing." 
 
 " Let us finish our dinner," said Tom Hamilton ; " pity your 
 friend isn't here ; we could have settled it after dinner over the table. 
 A capital measure of distance, a good long dining-table." 
 
 " Yes," replied the chevalier, " before dinner, but not after it. 
 People do not know rightly at what glass to stop, I have remarked ; 
 and the consequence is, the table suffers, but nobody else. Better in 
 the cool of the morning, my dear sir. However, 1 follow you with 
 pleasure ; but we had better not speak of the matter at all, while the 
 servants are in the room, lest it take wind ; merely introduce me as 
 the Chevalier de Lunatico ; we can broach the subject afterwards." 
 
 This being arranged, Tom Hamilton led the way back to the dining- 
 room, introducing the Chevalier de Lmiatico. It was a large, wide, 
 old-fashioned chamber, lined with dark oak, which reflected no ray of 
 light. At one end, between two pillars, was the beaufet, covered with 
 a sufficient array of plate ; and down the middle was a table, which 
 would have dined four-and-twenty people, with covers laid for three 
 only ; namely, the viscount, his son, and Tom Hamilton. There was 
 plenty of light upon the table, near the end of which the party was 
 congregated, and likewise on the sideboard, behind the master of the 
 house. There was plenty of dinner also, arrayed in what the poet 
 sublimely calls " a regular confusion," and plenty of wine, moreover, 
 with very evident symptoms of a good deal having been already 
 drunk. These particulars were gained at a single glance ; but the eye 
 of the chevalier rested with more deliberate inquiry upon the faces of 
 the two gentlemen whom he found seated at the table ; and the first 
 coimtenance he scrutinized was that of the viscount. He was a tall, 
 large man, of about sixty, with very black eyes, which perhaps might 
 have been fine ones in their day. His face was very red, and very 
 blotchy ; and the eyes, the corners of the mouth, and the wings of 
 the nose had manifold scarlet lines running about them, which spoke 
 of potations deep and strong. His hair was whitish, his whiskers thin 
 and poor, and his long eyebrows, as pure as snow, overhung the poppy 
 garden of his countenance, like a pent-house thatch covered with snow. 
 The two lower buttons of his waistcoat, and one in the waistband of 
 his breeches, were undone, showing a part of his shirt, and easing the 
 protuberance of his stomach ; and at the moment the chevalier entered, 
 he was carving some dish before him in a very slashing manner, scat- 
 tering the sauce over the table-cloth, without any very great reverence 
 for its purity. The son was not so tall as his father, and was alto- 
 gether a very disagreeable looking personage. He was inclined to be 
 fat, though not extremely so at that moment. His countenance was 
 
%% THE coMmtppioner ; 0% 
 
 white and pasty, with eyes much like a sheep in shape and expression, 
 thick lips, a good deal of curly whey-coloured whisker, and white 
 ill-regulated hair. There was an aifectation of groomishness about 
 his dress, which was carried to the pitch of having a leathern string 
 to his watch ; and there was an uneasy conceit in his countenance, 
 which told that he thought not a little of himself, and was afraid of 
 other people not thinking so much. At the same time, there was a 
 shy averting of the eye when any one gazed at him stedfastly, super- 
 adding to the rest of his beauties a sharper-like look, which was all 
 that was necessary to complete the perfections of his countenance. 
 He was a large hipped man withal, though his legs were longish ; and 
 this peculiar formation put him into unpleasant attitudes, both when 
 he sat and when he walked. Having been introduced to both father 
 and son by Tom Hamilton, the chevalier shook hands with the peer, 
 who held out a great broad paw to him for that purpose, and took a 
 seat between him and the said Tom, facing the hopeful heir of 
 Outrun Castle. 
 
 " What will you take, chevalier ?" exclaimed the viscount. " First 
 of all, a glass of wine with me — Hermitage ? No — champagne ? — 
 Tripe, Jeremy Tripe, champagne to the chevalier." 
 
 The butler reached the champagne from a cooler in the middle of 
 the table, and over Mr. de Lunatico's shoulder poured forth a glass of 
 creaming wine. Something, Heaven knows what, caused our good 
 friend to turn round his head, and fix his eyes upon the face of Jeremy 
 Tripe, when he beheld in the very butler of the noble lord, the iden- 
 tical person who, three quarters of an hour before, had taken his 
 money on the highway. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A CONVERSATION APART THE PEER lNl>rLGES SOME OF HIS PROPENSITIES— SOME 
 
 BUSINESS DISCUSSED MR. EITZURSE FINDS HIMSELF OUT OP SPIRITS THE PEER 
 
 HAS DOUBTS AS TO HIS SON's SOBRIETY. 
 
 .The learned reader may conceive the astonishment of the Chevalier 
 de Lunatico, on discovering the fact with which we just concluded the 
 last chapter, though why we did conclude the last chapter there, we 
 will leave to future ages to determine, as there is no apparent reason 
 for it whatsoever, except that we might employ a spare note of ad- 
 miration, and leave time for every one to stare. The worthy 
 Ijutler, however, to resume the thread of our discourse, seemed very 
 much less affected by the meeting than the chevalier himself, and bend- 
 ing down his head as he poured out the wine, he whispered—" Don't 
 
DE LUNATlCO IXQUlRENDd* 39 
 
 say a word, and I'll tell you all about it by-and-by ;" being moved 
 to such an act of confidence by the chevalier's peculiar powers. 
 
 In the meanwhile tlie peer, and the peer's son, and Tom Hamilton 
 together had all fixed their eyes upon the chevalier, and had remarked 
 his look of amazement. 
 
 " Why, what the devil is he staring at Jerry Tripe for?'* cried the 
 peer. 
 
 " Do you see anything very peculiar in the butler, Master Musarsian- 
 ciarelb' ?" asked the peer's son. 
 
 " He's afraid of being set on fire," said Tom Hamilton across the 
 table in a low tone. " What between Tripe's nose close at his ear on 
 one side, and your father's face on the other, he must be Chabert 
 himself to stand it." 
 
 " There is a slight mistake/' said the chevalier, addressing Mr. Fitz- 
 urse ; " my name is not Musarsianciarelli, my name is Lunatico, at 
 your service. May I inquire who the gentleman is that rejoices in the 
 epithet which we all pronounce with such difficulty ?" 
 
 " He's an improvisatore," said Tom Hamilton, laughing ; " produces 
 poetical whiskers upon any given cheek, and extemporises a wig in five 
 minutes!" 
 
 " Come, come," cried the peer, " this is all loss of time. Get some 
 soup for the chevalier, and a hot plate ; give me the mint sauce, and a 
 slice out of that lamb. We'll teach you good feeding in England, 
 chevalier, ay, and good deep drinking too. Taste that Madeira, taste 
 that JMadeira ! — Sherry ? What's sheiTy worth, in comparison w ith 
 good Madeira ? Why, that wine had been twice to the East Indies 
 when I got it ; but not satisfied with that, I sent it roimd Cape Horn. 
 A Spanish Don in the new world oft'ered its weight in dollars for every 
 pipe of it, but I wouldn't part with a bottle, and there it is ; — taste 
 it, taste it." 
 
 " A fine string of them !" said Mr. Fitzurse, in a whisper to Tom 
 Hamilton, and the latter bringing his mouth nearer to the esar of Mr. 
 de Lunatico, informed him that his friend the peer had a certain 
 propensity to what the great poet calls " a lie with a circumstance I" 
 " I see, I see," replied the chevalier ; "that is very apparent. Never- 
 theless, the Madeira is very good, the lie, if one could believe it, 
 would not make it any the better." 
 
 The chevalier persisted in his determination not to eat any thing, and 
 drank a great deal less than the peer thought proper, but his lordship 
 made up for all deficiencies, and, to say truth, neither Tom Hamilton 
 nor the Honourable Henry Frederick Augustus Fitzurse were at all 
 backward upon the occasion. Tom, indeed, looked at his friend from 
 time to time with certain sort of misgivings as to his encomitering a 
 friend with a pistol in h s hand as resolutely as he did one with a 
 decanter, and in order that he might show as little white featherism 
 as possible in the preliminaries, he plied him with wine during 
 dinner, v.liispering to the chevalier, in a confidential manner — " I 
 
 believe he's a d — d coward at heart. 1 have heard something of 
 
 tlie kind, but we must bring him to the scratch anyhow." 
 
 " That depends upon yourselves," replied the chevalier drily ; *< and 
 
40 THr. COMMISSIOXER ; OR, 
 
 besides, it is an old proverb in my country, tliat you may bring a horse 
 to the water, but cannot make him drink, and I suppose it is the same 
 Avith what you call the scratch ?" 
 
 " Not exactly, not exactly," answered Tom Hamilton. " Once get 
 a man there, and he's sure to fire one way or another. There is a sort 
 of inevitable twitching about the forefinger which always pulls the 
 trigger sooner or later: sometimes too soon indeed, for I knew a 
 fellow, who in a great fright shot himself through the broad of his 
 foot, brought on lockjaw and died, all from fear of being shot by 
 
 another man But, thank Heaven, that cursed butler is taking away. 
 
 We shall soon have the claret and the anchovies, and then we can 
 settle the preliminaries over the bottle." 
 
 " But the young gentleman's father," said Mr. de Lunatico. " Accord- 
 ing to the most approved practice in my country, when one gentleman 
 has an inclination to kill another in what is called an honourable 
 manner, two friends are selected, one on either side, who are, of 
 course, the two persons in all the universe most likely to promote 
 bloodshed, and the greatest care is taken to keep the matter a secret 
 from every one who either out of regard for one or other of the 
 parties, from respect for the law, or from possessing a few grains of 
 common sense, is likely to sooth angry spirits and reconcile the ad- 
 versaries. I think decidedly that we should get the peer out of the 
 way." 
 
 " Not at all, not at all," said Tom Hamilton. " He's our trump- 
 card, man ! Without him Fitzurse would never fight. They have 
 divided a certain portion of courage between them ; but they did it by 
 lot, I think, and all that was serviceable fell to the father." 
 
 " What the devil are those two fellows whispering about ?" inquired 
 the peer, who for the last moment or two had been dividing between his 
 son and the butler some important conversation regarding magnums of 
 claret and bottles of tokay, and had just ended the discussion by 
 saying — " Bring a bottle of the port ninety-one ! Give the old 
 boy an anchovy. Tripe." 
 
 The butler accordingly performed his office, and the chevalier swal- 
 lowed a portion of the fish, which he declared to be very salt and 
 rather unpleasant. 
 
 " But it is for the Wy-en" drawled the Honourable Henry Fre- 
 derick Augustus. " You could never drink your wy-en without an 
 anchovy, Signor Sublimatico, — at least not so well !" 
 
 " Then it is for the purpose of creating an appetite before you 
 gratify it," said the chevalier, " that you eat these animals." 
 
 Mr. Fitzurse replied — " To be sure we do — very natural too. Did 
 not the Romans take a vomit, that they might be able to eat two 
 dinners ? For my part, if I thought that anchovies would make me 
 relish another bottle, I'd eat a whole keg!" 
 
 By this time the little fishes had been handed round, the wine placed 
 upon the table, and the butler, after certain ceremonies appertaining 
 to his place, withdrew and left the party alone. Tom Hamilton touched 
 the arm of the chevalier, the latter drew forth Worrel's letter, and 
 stretching across the table, handed it to the son of the peer. 
 
DE LXJNATICO IN'QUIREXDO. 41 
 
 " Why, what the devil's this ?" cried Mr. Fitzurse. *' Is it a beg- 
 ging letter ?'' 
 
 " Or the prospectus of some grand discovery ?'* said the peer, 
 laughing. 
 
 " Or a subscription-list for building a church ?** demanded the son. 
 
 " Or an invitation to join the society for the suppression of vice ?" 
 shouted the peer, roaring with merriment. 
 
 " Is it from Wilberforce, or the Archbishop of Canterbiu'y, or Martin 
 of Galway ?" demanded the son. 
 
 " Or Lord Brougham, or Macauley, or Cox Savory, or Van Butchel ?" 
 cried the peer. 
 
 " No," answered the Chevalier de Lunatico, with a placid smile and 
 a courteous inclination of the head ; " it is from a young friend of 
 mine, named Harry Worrel ; to request that the Honourable Mr. 
 Fitzurse will appoint any place of meeting to-morrow, at half-past 
 five, for the purpose of settling certain differences between them — it 
 being Mr. Worrel's determination, not to quit the ground alive, unless 
 those differences are settled." 
 
 "A challenge, by jingo," cried the peer, laughing more heartily 
 than ever. " Well, Freddy, my boy, we'll have a blaze at him." 
 
 But the Honourable Henry Frederick Augustus Fitzurse did not 
 secra to view the matter in the same light as his father. He turned very 
 white in the gills, bluish about the lips ; his eyes got fish-like and glassy, 
 and Tom Hamilton started up, exclaiming, " He's fainted to a dead 
 certainty." 
 
 " Fainted !'* cried the peer. " No, by ! he's drunk — that's what 
 
 he is — I'll soon sober him," and pouring out a tumbler-full of water, 
 he dashed the whole unceremoniously in his son's face. The first ap- 
 plication not succeeding, he repeated it, exclaiming, " Fred, you're 
 
 drunk, d me, you're drunk, and here you've got to fight a duel 
 
 to-morrow morning ! — Well, it does not signify, Mr. Prismatico, or 
 whatever your cursed absurd name may be. Be so good as to present 
 my compliments to your friend, Mr. Harry Worrel, and tell him, that 
 my son will have the honour of meeting him in the narrow lane, that 
 runs under the park-wall, to-morrow morning. He will know the 
 place well — we will have it half-way between the park-gates and the 
 village, that whoever comes down, may not have far to go. He shall 
 meet him; and d me, if he doesn't, I'll meet him myself 1" 
 
 " You will excuse me, my lord," said the Chevalier de Lunatico, 
 ** but I do not think that would exactly answer the purpose ; I never 
 heard of such a thing being done by deputy : and in the present in- 
 stance, as the quarrel is about a lady, it would be quite inadmissi- 
 ble. If yom* son does not appear upon the ground himself, I must 
 withdraw my party." 
 
 " Oh, he shall come, sir, he shall come," cried the peer. " You don't 
 suppose he's afraid. He's drunk, sir ; I tell you, he's only di'imk. 
 Why, sir, we had drunk three bottles of champagne before you came 
 in. I understand all about it — half-past five o'clock — the lane under 
 the park-wall — half-way between the gates and the village. His father 
 shot me just there, and I do not see why ray son should not shoot him 
 He's a good shot, always was a good shot — hey, Tom Hamilton 1" 
 
411 ' THE COMMISSIONED ; Olt, 
 
 *' Devilish good, mj^ lord," cried Tom Hamilton, " with a gun ; 
 don't know his pistol capacities, but dare say lie'll do. Come, cheva- 
 lier, this business settled, I'll Just say a word or two to you in the next 
 room, and then w^e won't detain you." 
 
 The chevalier accordingly made his bow and retired, accompanied 
 by Tom Hamilton, who, as soon as the door was closed, shrugged his 
 shoulders, saying, 
 
 " A pretty job this, to be sure !'* 
 
 " Why, your friend brought it upon himself,'* said the chevalier ; 
 " he wrote a very impertinent letter this morning " 
 
 " Well, the thing's done, and can't be helped," cried Tom Hamilton. 
 " The old gentleman will bring him to the ground — that's clear ; I 
 
 suppose we must cork him up with brandy. I say, chevalier, d 
 
 me, tell yom* friend not to kill him — wing him, man, wing him — sad 
 thing for me, if he were killed. He's a devilish good fellow, though 
 an infernal blackguard, I must own ; but there's capital shooting down 
 here, in the season, and the fishing's excellent.'* 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 JEBBT TEIPE DISPLAYS HIS PRINCIPLES AN INQUIBY INTO FPvOLlCS JOET PIKK 
 
 MEETS WITH PROMOTION AN EARLY WALK THAT IS NOT GOOD FOB DiaESTION 
 
 THE PRINCIPAL, THE SECOND, AND THE BOTTLE-HOLDER. 
 
 While one of the servants went round to the stables, to bring up the 
 cantering Galloway, and the Chevalier de Lunatico stood upon the 
 steps of the house, enjoying the beams of his own sweet planet as 
 much as any of the Chloes of Mr. Moore's lyrics, he was joined by no 
 less a person than Jerry Tripe himself, who approached with a 
 courteous salutation of " No offence, I hope, sir ; but I cannot be mis- 
 taken in supposing you the gentleman with whom I exchanged a few 
 words in the lane, an hour or two ago." 
 
 " If I had had a pistol," replied Mr. de Lunatico, " we should have 
 exchanged shots, Signer Tripe !" 
 
 " No, that we shouldn't, sir," replied the butler ; *' for whatever 
 you might have given me out of your pistol, there was nothing in mine 
 to return !" 
 
 " Very singular !" said the chevalier. " I should think you w^ell de- 
 served a ticket for St. Luke's, my good friend, if you really mean to 
 say, that when you incurred all the risk of such an exploit, you left 
 yourself without the means of defence, when it could not cost you the 
 twentieth part of a farthing to buy a bullet for your pistol. ^ Wliy, su-, 
 you must be a lunatic \" 
 
IDE LDNATICO INqCIilKNDO. 43 
 
 ♦' Not at all, sir, not at all," replied the butler. ** You call it an 
 exploit — I say, it is but a frolic ; and if I should be caught, the frolic 
 is proved by my having no shot in my pistol. I have a friend, and a 
 fellow-servant in the family here, who is ready to swear any thing I like, 
 and will prove any night in the week, that I have a bet with him, to 
 take a purse in the lane, all for the sake of ^frolic /" 
 
 " Tliere must be very strange law in your country," said the cheva- 
 lier, " if they tolerate such frolics as that. Master Tripe." 
 
 " That may be, sir," answered the butler; "but I can tell you, they 
 tolerate frolics ten times worse every day. It matters little to you 
 if you lose a pound or two — but many a woman has been frightened to 
 death ; many a poor girl ruined, body and soul ; many an honest man 
 lost his life, all for the sake of an honourable gentleman's frolic !" 
 
 " And pray, how does the law deal with such frolics and person- 
 ages ?" asked Mr. de Lunatico. 
 
 " Fines them five shillings," replied the butler, " and discharges 
 tliem, with a warning not to do so any more." 
 
 " You are a very lenient people," said the Chevalier de Lunatico. 
 
 " Very," said the butler, " to vice in high station. But here comes 
 yoiU" honour's horse ; so I won't detain you any longer, but will wish 
 you a pleasant ride, and may you meet with no fresh solicitor upon 
 the king's high-way." 
 
 The Chevalier de Lunatico, perfectly satisfied with this explanation, 
 mounted his steed and rode away ; and as we will not trouble the 
 reader with any more of the picturesque, we will land him at once at 
 the door of the Half Moon, in the little village of Outrun, where he 
 was received by Joey Pike, in the attitude of the Apollo Belvidere ; 
 only, that instead of a bow, which the Delphic god is supposed to 
 have been armed with, the renowned Joey held in his right hand a 
 lantern. 
 
 " Here, here ! ostler, ostler !" he cried, " presto, presto, take the 
 gentleman's cheval. Allow me, monsignore, to conduct you into the 
 camera, Avhere Signer Worrel is waiting for you ;" and he accordingly 
 led the chevalier forward with his usual tiptoe step, finding a way 
 peculiarly his own of opening tlie parlour-door, and beaming upon 
 the chevalier, as he passed, a smile of inefiiible sweetness and self- 
 satisfaction. At the same time he asked, " Is there any thing farther 
 for yoiu* service, sir ; I shall be delighted to accomplish yoiu: 
 volonty" 
 
 Having said this as a mere matter of courtesy, Joey was about to 
 retire, with his right hand thurst into the bosom of his velvet waist- 
 coat, when the chevalier stopped him saying — 
 
 " Stop a moment. Master Pike ; I think you are in search of a place. 
 Is it not so ? and you are only upon the books of the landlady here as 
 a sort of supernumerary." 
 
 " A punto^ a punto, signer, I mean to say, precisement" replied 
 Joey Pike. " I am here, sir, as it were, in an intermediate state ; in fact, 
 wliat my friend the famous naturalist, Mr. Winken de Worde, used 
 to call a pupa ; that is to say, something between a caterpillar and a 
 ■butterfly." 
 
44 THK commissioneh ; or, 
 
 " He meant a puppy, Joey," said Harry Worrell, who, to tell the 
 truth, was somewhat impatient to know tlie result of the chevalier's 
 visit to Outrun castle, " and I dare say Mrs. Muggins will be very glad 
 to get rid of 3'ou." 
 
 " She will be extasiee, I have no doubt, sir," replied Joey. " She 
 is a marvellously good woman, but has an eye to tlie dinari. Conse- 
 quently, as she considers me more ornamental than useful, I doubt not 
 she will be glad when I kiss her hand upon taking my cong^ey 
 
 '* Well then," said the chevalier, " what wages do you demand, 
 Master Pike ?" 
 
 " Sir," replied Joey — whose intention was to say what a more homely 
 man would have couched in the words, "whatever your honour 
 pleases" — " Sir, I was never avare. I will take quanta, your worship 
 thinks tantor 
 
 " Well then," replied the chevalier, " go and settle the matter with 
 your present mistress, and consider yourself my servant from this 
 moment." 
 
 Joey laid his hand upon his heart, bent his head till his chin 
 touched his breast, swept back with two fingers the hair that had fallen 
 over his forehead, and with a look of conscious importance, took his 
 departure from the room. 
 
 " We shall want some one with us to-morrow," said the chevalier, 
 " to carry the pistols and all that sort of thing." 
 
 " Then it is all settled," said Worrel, who had listened with a look 
 of some anxiety. " Well, the matter having come to this, nothing 
 remains but to carry it through with spirit. I would rather have 
 avoided it had it been possible ; but such not being the case, we must 
 make the best of it. There is the case of pistols, chevalier, we must 
 see that they are in good order. Here, I have written a letter to 
 Laura, in case of the worst, which you must take care of, and deliver it 
 to her with your own hand." 
 
 " Pooh ! there will be no occasion for that," said the chevalier ; " the 
 fellow fainted at the very sight of your cartel, and though they may 
 screw him up to come to the ground, I will answer for it, that when he 
 is there, he will not be able to hit a haystack at ten yards — and yet, 
 this is to be a man of honour and of courage !" 
 
 The rest of that night's affairs were soon settled ; the chevalier, 
 who seemed an experienced hand at such things, sent his friend to bed 
 early, and calling Joey Pike into the room, gave him an intimation of 
 the business they were to be engaged in on the following day. The 
 news threw Joey into a state of nervous excitement, which produced 
 innumerable new airs and graces of person, so that he seemed an Egyp- 
 tian dancing girl, a Turkish dervise, a performer upon the slack rope, 
 and Fanny EUsler all combined, such were the contortions, the atti- 
 tudes, and the positions into which he twisted himself. Let it be 
 understood by the learned reader, that his convulsive graces were pro- 
 duced by no dislike to the business in which he was to take a part ; but 
 the vast importance which he gained in his own eyes, by having any 
 share in a real duel — a positive affair of blood and murder — worked 
 Upon his excitable imagination to such a degree, that step by step he 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 45 
 
 fancied himself, first a second, then a principal, called it mentally " our 
 duel," and d ew visionary comparisons between liimself, Godfrey of 
 Bouillon, Scipio Africanus, Quintus Curiius, and Tippoo Saib. It 
 is well that the throne of the Indies was not before him at that moment, 
 or he would have j umped into it and sat down. So great was his opinion 
 of his own capacity that he would have undertaken to rule Europe for 
 half-a-crown. That he might not be a moment later than the time in 
 calling the chevalier and Mr. Worrel, he sat upon the stairs all night, 
 with the pistol-case underneath him ; and when he fell asleep for half- 
 an-hour, he dreamed that he was some very great man indeed, but 
 whether it was the Duke of Wellington or Marshal Blucher, Ude or 
 Doctor Morrison, he could not well tell. He started up, however, 
 with the clock striking four, and creeping quietly up a step or two 
 higher, knocked first at the door of Mr. Worrel, and then at that of the 
 chevalier. The latter put out his head immediately, saying in a low 
 voice, " Two cups of warm coffee, Joey, and two or three slices of dry 
 toast ; but take IMr Worrell up some water first — the man that fights 
 unshaved is lost !" 
 
 Just as the clock was striking five, the Chevalier de Lunatico, with 
 the tip of his nose rather blue from the chill freshness of the morning, 
 Harry Worrell, looking firm and grave, and marching with an upright 
 carriage and a calm step, and Joey Pike carrying the pistols on tiptoes, 
 as if he was afraid of alarming the mice in the cellars as they passed, 
 took their way down the road that ran through the village of Outrun, 
 passed the house of the sexton and clerk, skirted the wall of the church- 
 yard, over which the young gentleman took a look at his father's grave, 
 and then turning into the lane which led towards the castle, walked on 
 with a deliberate step towards the place of rendezvous. At first there 
 was very little light in the sky, and the morning was still grey when 
 they arrived at the spot, which, by the nicest calculation, the chevalier 
 looked upon as the middle term between the village and the mansion. 
 
 " Five minutes before our time, my dear sir," said the chevalier ; 
 " but on all occasions it is better to be too soon than too late. Let us 
 walk on a little, we shall find them coming, and it is well to keep the 
 blood circulating ; the wall too, comes a little close upon us here ; 
 scarcely gives a man a fair chance. There's a wider spot out beyond 
 there, that will suit our purpose better. Joey," he continued, when 
 they had reached the spot, "put down the case by those bushes; open 
 it, rub the flints with a piece of leather, to take off all moisture, and see 
 that all the rest of the apparatus be ready. Be sure that the necks be 
 taken clean off the balls, and that each be as round as a marble." 
 
 " I will do my impossible to satisfy you, sir," said Joey ; and the^ 
 Chevalier de Lunatico, telling him that his possible would be quite 
 enough, took Worrell by the arm and walked some fifty or sixty yards 
 forward and back again ; then took another turn, and then another, 
 but still nob-ody appeared, and Worrel looked at his watch. 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder if they did not come," said the chevalier ; " as 
 he was taken with a fainting fit last night, he has perhaps been troubled 
 with hysterics this morning." 
 
 " No," said Worrel, " here they are !" and sure enough, there was 
 
46 THE commissioner; oh, 
 
 seen approacliing a party consisting of the tliree following personages — ■ 
 Tlie Honourable Henry Frederick Augustus Fitzurse, with steps that 
 did not seem the most steady in the world, and with a white emetic- 
 looking face, appeared between the other two ; on one side of liim 
 was Tom Hamilton, supporting him under the arm with his left hand, 
 and carrying a case of pistols with the other, while on the left of the 
 peer's son, appeared a no less important personage than Jerry Tripe, 
 loaded with his own particular arms, in the shape of two large green 
 glass bottles. A wine-glass peeped from a pocket of the waistcoat 
 which covered his capacious stomach, and with his right shoulder he 
 ever and anon nudged on his honourable young master. As soon as 
 they came in sight of the opposite party, which was at the distance of 
 about three hundred yards, they stopped, bringing their three heads 
 together in the form of a triangle, and Worrel and the chevalier could 
 perceive that the glass was withdrawn from the butler's pocket, and 
 having been filled with part of the contents of one of the bottles, was 
 handed to the principal personage concerned, who drank off the con- 
 tents, and held it out for another. This operation seemed to restore 
 him some degree of energy, for he advanced more briskly than before, 
 and the two parties were soon within a short distance of each other 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Fitzurse, good morning, Mr. Hamilton," said 
 the chevalier with his usual courtesy. 
 
 " Devilish cold," said Mr. Fitzurse with a hiccup, " ain't it, Worrel? 
 Take a drop of summut short. Here, Tripe, pour him out some lusli." 
 
 " Hush, sir, hush," said Tripe, almost singeing the honourable gentle- 
 man's whiskers, by bringing his nose close to his ear. " You forget, 
 sir, you are to be sober — quite sober. You've got to fight, you know." 
 
 " Fight, fight !" said Mr. Fitzurse, turning a very blank look upon his 
 counsellor, and then a sharper one at Worrel, and seeming gradually 
 to awake to a consciousness of his situation. " Fight, fight ! Ay, so 
 I have, upon my honour ;" and the conviction seemed to him any thing 
 but a pleasant one, for his teeth began to chatter, and his knees to 
 shake most desperately. In the meanwhile W^orrell stood at some dis- 
 tance, close to his own pistol-case, and Tom Hamilton and the chevalier 
 had retired a step or two towards the side of the park, to consult in 
 regard of their proceedings, when suddenly a head was popped up over 
 the wall, covered with a large crimson velvet night-cap, which looked 
 dim compared to the face beneath it, and the voice of the viscount ex- 
 claimed, *' Now, Freddy, my boy, d n me, have at him !" 
 
 '* My lord, my lord," cried Tom Hamilton, in a tone of serious re- 
 monstrance, " you promised me you would not " 
 
 But before the first word was well out of his mouth, the viscount's 
 head had disappeared, and the chevalier and Mr. Hamilton proceeded 
 with their arrangements. 
 
 " I am afraid, sir," said Mr. de Lunatico, " that your friend is not 
 in a very fit state to fight." 
 
 " It is the only state that he ever will fight in," said Tom Hamilton 
 decidedly; " it is not my doing, however, it was the peer and the butler 
 settled it between them. However, it is no business of ours, wears 
 here for a specifie purpose, and I think w© had better measure the 
 ground.'* 
 
DE LUNATICO INQCIRENDO. 4^ 
 
 The chevalier bowed, and twelve small paces were accordingly 
 measured out. The pistols were crammed, and some little conversation 
 was taking place with regard to the time and method of firing, when 
 suddenly the red night-cap and the redder face appeared once more above 
 
 the wall, exclaiming, " D me, what are you all about ? Do you 
 
 mean to be all day ?" and as soon as the words were pronounced, the 
 vision disappeared again. 
 
 " Very irregular this, sir," said Mr. de Lunatico. 
 
 " Very," said Tom Hamilton, " but it can't be helped ; the peer will 
 have his own way, and " 
 
 " There is excellent fishing and shooting down here ! ' said the 
 chevalier. 
 
 " Capital," replied Tom Hamilton, " and to tell you the truth that's 
 the reason I stand more than I otherwise would. But what is one to 
 do now with this drunken cowardly beast ?" he continued, looking signi- 
 ficantly toward the Honourable Henry Frederick Augustus ; " wiiat 
 between brandy and fear, if I take away the butler, who, you see, is 
 holding him up with his shoulder, he will be down to a certainty." 
 
 " You would not like to go the butler too, I suppose ?" said the 
 chevalier. 
 
 " Why, / should personally have no objection," said Tom Hamilton, 
 "though he miglit. But really we must go to business some way." 
 ■ " I think you will find your friend quite sober now," said the che- 
 valier, "fear and drunkenness can't live in the same house together — the 
 one kills the other. But, as you say, it is time to begin, or we shall hav^ 
 the red night-cap up again. I will place my man, and you must do the 
 best you can." 
 
 Thus saying, he moved away to the spot where Worrel had stood 
 during that expectant five minutes which is, perhaps, the most unpleasant 
 period of any man's whole life. The pistol was soon placed in his 
 hand, and the chevalier, with a word or two of scientific direction, left 
 him, and took his stand near the bushes, where Joey Pike had remained 
 striding over the pistol-case in the attitude of an Agamemnon. 
 
 Tom Hamilton's task was not quite so soon completed, and it was very 
 evident to the Chevalier, Worrell, and all the other parties concerned, 
 that the Honourable Mr. Fitzurse was shaking in the most undignified 
 manner possible. At length, however, the butler crept away with his 
 bottles to the place appointed for the seconds, and Tom Hamilton 
 keeping his friend somewhat upon the perpendicular, shouted to Mr. de 
 
 Lunatico, " You must give the word, chevalier, by , I can't leave him, 
 
 so I must make him cover my angles the best way I can." 
 
 But just at that moment up popped the red night-cap and face againi 
 
 and the voice of the peer shouted forth, " D me, stand up, sir, like 
 
 a man ! Get away, Tom Hamilton ! Stand up, sir, or I'll come over 
 and cane you!" 
 
 A momentary energy was given to Mr. Fitzurse by the voice of his 
 respected parent, his knees became straighter, his back less bent. Tom 
 Hamilton took advantage of the opportunity, and darted away ; the 
 chevalier gave the word, and strange to say both ])istol3 went off* at 
 once. The ball of Mr. Fitzurse making an angle of ninety degreef 
 
'48 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 from the line wlilcli it ought to have pursued towards his adversary, 
 passed between Tom Hamilton and the chevalier, and left an invaluable 
 scar upon the cheek of Joey Pike, who sent forth in a inelo-dramatic 
 tone, " Je suis blesse !" But alack and a-well-a-day, no sooner had the 
 honourable scion of a noble house performed this chivalrous feat, than 
 down he fell at full length upon his face without sense or motion. 
 
 " He's fainted again, by jingo," cried Tom Hamilton. 
 
 " D me, he's down," cried a voice from under the red night-cap. 
 
 " He falls very like a dead man," said the chevalier, and the two se- 
 conds, with Joey Pike and Jerry Tripe, ran up to the spot, while 
 Worrel stood where he had been placed with not the most pleasant 
 feelings in the world, and the peer was seen struggling to raise the 
 squelchy rotundity of Ids abdomen over the wall, though he was imable 
 to effect it. 
 
 Tom Hamilton and Mr. Tripe were the first at the spot, and they 
 soon contrived to roll Mr. Fitzurse over upon his back. His face was 
 as pale as ashes, and just in the middle of his forehead was a small 
 wound, from which the blood was trickling down between his eyebrows, 
 and into his right eye. 
 
 " Get up the pistols, Joey," said the chevalier, " it is time to be off." 
 
 " D me, he's dead," cried the peer from the top of the wall, " run 
 
 for a constable, Jerry Tripe — raise the hue-and-cry — send down the 
 people from the lodge." 
 
 " Oh, if that's the case, there is no time to be lost," said the chevalier. 
 " Come, Worrel, come, or our pigeon-shooting may have a bad end." 
 
 Thus saying he took Worrel by the arm, and followed by Joey Pike 
 with the pistols, he made the best of his way down the lane. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A MISTAKEN PURSUIT TUIi ENDS AND OBJECTS OF FOX-HUNTING THE LOVER S 
 
 RETURN. 
 
 The Chevalier de Lunatico, Harry Worrel, and Joey Pike proceeded 
 down the lane, as we have said, at first with a dignified slowness, as if 
 they would not stoop to run away, but they gradually accelerated their 
 steps till at length Joey pulled the skirt of the chevalier's coat, and 
 crying " Ecoutez !" threw himself into the attitude of the listening slave. 
 The whole party stopped for a moment and listened, upon which a 
 loud hullaballoo was heard coming quickly up the road behind them. 
 
 " We had better separate," said Worrel. " Joey, take care of yourself, 
 hide away the pistols somewhere shrewdly, and let us all meet to-night 
 
\' ^x 
 
 .N\ 
 
 ^ 7 
 
 W . A* 
 
 Aij^ ; 
 
 m 
 
% 
 
 J' 
 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 49 
 
 in Mr. Longmore's garden. I will take across the country. Chevalier, 
 you come up the bank here with me, and I will show you a place of con- 
 cealment." 
 
 " No, no," replied the chevalier laughing, " take care of yourself, 
 my good friend. If I understood you rightly last night, all they will 
 do is to put me in prison, and I should not much mind a fair insight 
 into such an establishment. I will join you to-night if I am not taken." 
 
 " Good by, good by, then," cried Worrel, scrambling up the bank, 
 and disappearing amongst the bushes on the other side. 
 
 The chevalier turned round to look for his newly acquired valet, but 
 Joey had given up the display of grace in repose, for the piu^pose of 
 exhibiting grace in action ; and such use had he made of the locomo- 
 tive machinery with which nature had provided him, that all the 
 chevalier could perceive of his dear departed friend was a pair of legs 
 going rapidly round a turn in the lane, about a hundred yards in ad- 
 vance. Being thus left to his own resources, Mr. de Lunatico walked 
 deliberately forward, determined to take his chance of what might 
 occur, and to leave to our good friend. Fate, the task of settling his 
 lodging for the night. The sounds that followed were now increasing 
 in intensity every minute ; but Mr. de Lunatico presently thought that 
 he heard the tongues of dogs as well as men joining in the outcry ; and 
 in a moment or two after, down from the top of tlie bank shot a large 
 male fox, which darted on along the road, and ensconced itself quietly in a 
 large hole under the hedge near the spot where Joey Pike had dis- 
 appeared. Scarcely had reynard thus entrenched himself, when a number 
 of black and white ill-looking dogs, with hanging ears and open mouths, 
 poured down from above, some tumbling head over heels in their eager- 
 ness, some treading the precipitous descent as delicately as if they had 
 been taught to dance the tight-rope. The chevalier paused, doubting 
 much whether he was not about to be eaten up alive. But the hounds, 
 smelling something that they liked better, rushed forward full ciy 
 upon the track of their long-backed prey. A more real danger, 
 however, tlu-eatened the chevalier the moment after, for scarcely 
 had the hounds chosen their own course when a gentleman in a 
 red coat, mounted on a splendid black horse, appeared suddenly on 
 the top of the bank, made a violent effort to pull in his beast, 
 and came down head over heels into the lane below. He was just 
 jumping up when a second appeared above, and, without being warned 
 by his companion's fate, dashed on to the very edge, where the earth 
 giving way, the horse slipped, rolled over, jammed its rider between 
 its body and the earth, and striking full against the stump of an 
 old tree as it descended, broke its back, and lay kicking convulsively 
 upon the ground. Another followed, but with more skill, though not 
 with less rashness, he leaped his horse over a small bush, threw himself 
 back with an easy rein, then gave him a lift of the head as they came 
 down, and hunter and huntsman descended safely on the turf at the 
 bottom of the bank ; the only little accident that occurred being that 
 the horse kicked one of the gentlemen who had fallen as he descended, 
 and broke his leg. At the same moment a number of similar scenes 
 were going on in various parts of the lane ; and with not much care 
 
 C. — KO. 2. £ 
 
50 THE COMMISSIONER ; OH,' 
 
 for the killed or wounded, the red-coated gentry rode on after the 
 hounds, till a loud cry of "gone to earth, gone to earth," and "dig him 
 out, dig him out," brought their sport for atmie to a conclusion. 
 
 The chevalier put his hand in his breeches-pocket, and advanced 
 quietly into the midst of the group which had by this time assembled 
 around the hole to which reynard had betaken himself. He bowed 
 courteously to the diiferent gentlemen he passed, and was greeted 
 universally with a benignant smile, which certainly no native of this 
 lower sphere would have received from tlie sportsmen at that 
 moment. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said to one of the most prominent of the 
 huntsmen, " but I am a stranger, and you will permit me to ask, what is 
 all this about ?" 
 
 "About ?" replied the other, "why, it is a fox-hunt, man." 
 
 " And do you mean to say," asked the chevalier, " that all these 
 men, and these horses, and all these dogs, have been running after the 
 little beast I saw go into that hole r" 
 
 " To be sure," answered his companion. " It is the most glorious 
 sport in the world." 
 
 "And are such accidents as these of frequent occurrence?" de- 
 manded the chevalier. 
 
 " Oil, continually," replied the other, " seldom a day passes without 
 something of the kind. I myself have twice broken my collar-bone, 
 once my arm, once my leg, and have been once trepanned." 
 
 " And do you really pretend to say you like it ?" said the che- 
 valier. 
 
 " Why, as to liking it, you know," replied the other, " one gets ac- 
 customed to it ; it is very exciting you know, and all that." 
 
 " What a nice thing a fox must be," said the chevalier. " I should 
 like to eat a bit very much." 
 
 " Eat a bit of a fox !" cried the huntsman, " the nasty stinking carrion. 
 Why, man, you are mad !" 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said the chevalier, with a low bow, " I think 
 it is you. However, I am much obliged to you for your politeness, 
 and shall be very happy to see you all in my country when you come 
 there, which you will be obliged to do within six months, according to 
 the tenor of these presents ;" and taking out a whole handful of billets 
 he distributed them amongst the members of the hunt, much to their 
 surprise. 
 
 The chevalier then made his bow and retired, leaving them to unearth 
 the fox at their leisure ; and taking his way quietly onward towards the 
 village, determined to wait in peace the consequences of the late duel. 
 Whether it was, however, that the pursuers, if there were any, never 
 dreamt that the fugitives, like a hunted hare, would doubhg back to their 
 old form, or whether they were misled by a false scent, or whether there 
 wera any pursuers or not, the reader will soon b e informed ; but one 
 thing is very certain, that they never thought of coming after the 
 chevalier to the inn, and that he sat down about an hour afterwards to 
 an excellent breakfast, and declared that he felt himself as much at home 
 in the Half Moon as if he had been in the whole one. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 51 
 
 " I don't know how it is either, Mrs. Muggins," he said, " for of all 
 the people I have yet met with in this country, you are the least of a 
 lunatic." 
 
 " La, sir," said Mrs. Muggins, " I'm glad you think so ;'* and having 
 nothing more to say upon the occasion, she dropped a courtesy, and left 
 the room. In ten minutes after, however, she returned to the parlour 
 to tell the clievalier that the Hon. Henry Frederick Augustus Fitzurse 
 had been shot in a duel, this being the first intimation of the affair which 
 had reached the village. The chevalier replied, " really !" and finished 
 his roll, and Mrs. Muggins, thinking him a very odd gentleman, again 
 retired. 
 
 In the meanwhile, Harry Worrel made his way across the country, 
 fell in with the fox- hounds, and began to suspect that the 
 outcry which conscience had changed into the sounds of pursuit, was 
 neither more nor less than the halloo of the huntsman. It might, 
 indeed, have surprised him, in any other part of the country, to 
 see the hounds out at so early an hour in the morning'; but he 
 was well aware of the peculiar habits of the master of the pack, 
 who began the chace at six, rode like a madman till two, then 
 came in to throw off his red coat, pull off his boots, and transact 
 the business of the day as a magistrate, a father, and a landlord, 
 with the most sedate and reasonable propriety. Taking his course 
 across fields and through lanes well known to himself, Worrel ap- 
 proached by degrees the house of Mr. Longmore ; and although he 
 had determined stoutly not to present himself there till day was over, 
 he continued moving about nearer and more near, like a moth flying 
 round a candle, till at length, arguing that it would be cruel to leave 
 his fair Laura in any doubt as to his fate, he opened the little gate of 
 the garden, walked round to the window of the drawing-room — know- 
 ing very well, be it remembered, that Mr. Longmore Avas by this time 
 in his observatory — and took the pleasure of observing her for a mo- 
 ment or two as she sat with her pretty little head leaning upon her 
 pretty little hand, in a very pensive and melancholy attitude. It was 
 one of those convenient windows, dear reader, which open down the 
 middle, like a pair of folding doors. It had a brass handle, too, upon 
 which Harry Worrel laid his hand gently — but not so gently that Laura 
 did not hear it. The sound caused her to start up at once, and 
 before Worrel had opened the window she was half-way towards 
 it. There was nobody in the room but herself and her lover. 
 She had not slept a wink all night, from a strong suspicion of the 
 errand that Worrel was gone upon. She was in the act of 
 fancying him shot, when his coming disturbed her reverie, and conse- 
 quently, there being only one method of consoling herself for all she 
 had suffered on his account, she took it at once, like a good girl as 
 she was, threw herself into his arms and kissed his cheek, while tears 
 of joy and relief ran over from her eyes. Under such circumstances 
 people in general love to be left alone together, and Me shall gratify 
 them in this respect, as we are precluded by the dignity of our history 
 from following the course of any personage further than just sufficient 
 to elucidate its bearings upon the peculiar inquiries of the Chevalier de 
 
52 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 Lunatico. There is, however, another personage whose proceedings 
 we must take some notice of, as, without entering upon them fully, 
 various parts of the subsequent adventures of the chevalier could not 
 be clearly understood by the reader, who, perhaps, may not be sorry 
 to hear something more concerning the fate of the renowned Joey 
 Pike. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A NEW HISTORY OF AN OLD PARISH CLERK SCENES OF DOMESTIC FELICITY 
 
 SOME PLEASANT CONVERSATION, ENDING WITH THE LAST ACT OF MOST TRAGEDIES 
 JOEY PIKE FINDS A FRIEND AVANTING IN SPIRIT. 
 
 The clerk of the parish — although this chapter is to be devoted to 
 Joey Pike, and Joey was not installed in the honourable office we have 
 just mentioned — the clerk of the parish, in the honour and manor of 
 Outrun, fulfilled, in those days of primeval simplicity, the duties of 
 sexton, and took upon himself the greater share of burying the dead. 
 There is something, we have every reason to believe, in the smell of 
 freshly turned earth, which has a great tendency to promote longevity : 
 for, from the time of the exhumer of Yorick, downwards, it would ap- 
 pear that all grave-diggers live to a good old age. Such, at least, 
 was the case with the clerk and sexton of the parish of Outrun, who 
 had arrived at the respectable term of seventy years ; and, though 
 somewhat thin and weazened withal, he had remained a jovial old 
 gentleman up to the period of three months before the time we speak 
 of. In his early life he had married a wife, in mature life he had 
 buried her ; and for some years it was supposed that experience had led 
 him to judge the latter to be the more satisfactory stej) of the two. 
 But somewhat before he had reached what has been considered the 
 grand terminus upon tlie railroad of life, beyond which few pass, and 
 of which many stop short — a few months before he had reached the 
 period of seventy years, the tender passion had resumed its sway, and 
 Tobias Scapulary had once more committed matrimony with a lady 
 some five-and-twenty years his junior, who had lately appeared in the 
 parish of Outrun, and of whose family, connections, and conduct, there 
 were sundry evil rumours in the village. However, as she had come 
 down for the purpose of setting up a chandler's shop, in opposition to 
 an old inhabitant of the place, scandal might have some share in the 
 business, and the reports were to be taken with a grain of salt, as the 
 Romans have it : although all the salt in the world would not have 
 persuaded the rival chandler that the good lady was any thing but a 
 
DE LUXATICO INQUIREXDO. 53 
 
 bad, saucy, drunken Irish woman, or that she was a real widow 
 after all. 
 
 Notwithstanding all this, to her Tobias Scapulary paid his addresses. 
 His friends and relations, as he was well to do in the world, remon- 
 strated strongly. As a natural consequence, Tobias instantly laid his 
 hand and heart at the feet of tlie widow, and she took a day to^ con- 
 sider of the matter, whieli both increased his flame, and gave him a 
 high idea of her prudence. In the mean time, she consulted with a 
 friend of about five-and-tifty years of age, a native of the village, but 
 one who had been a tin-man in London — had failed for a considerable 
 amount with as much eclat as his betters — had paid three pence in the 
 pound, and had come down to settle at Outrun, with, what he called, 
 a comfortable little independence ; that is to say, enough to purchase 
 a pork-chop, when such things are in season, and a glass of gin and 
 water at all periods of the year. " To make his crown a pound," 
 he did not, like a certain Jemmy that the reader wots of, go to sea ; 
 but he had recourse, it was whispered, to various means, suggested by 
 a fertile imagination. He sold rabbits about the neighbourhood, 
 though where they came from was a mystery ; and it was said, that a 
 hare or a pheasant occasionally popped out of his bag, for the benefit 
 of secret })eople who required such commodities. He also indulged 
 in games of chuck-farthing, pitch-and-toss, and odds-and-evens ; went 
 as far as a touch at hazard, when he could get hold of the dice ; and 
 somehow or another he contri\ cd to win more of other people's money, 
 than he ever had to pay of his own. Moreover, he was a keen-looking, 
 ugly wight, stout about the calves of the legs, but with a face as 
 warty and knotty as the trunk of an old oak, and with a pair of small 
 eyes, that might have fitted any pig's countenance in Christendom. 
 
 When the widow asked this worthy, whose name, by the way, was 
 Smalldram, whether he thought it would be better for her to marry old 
 Toby Scapulary or not, he took full five minutes to consider the ques- 
 tion, and then replied deliberately, that it could do no great harm. 
 Her answer then to the clerk's proj)osal was satisfactory to his feelings, 
 and at the end of a fortnight and two days the lady and gentleman 
 were made one flesh. 
 
 From that time forth, however, a sad change took place in good 
 Tobias Scapulary. He wasted away, he grew feeble, his spade no 
 longer played gaily amongst the bones of his departed friends ; neither 
 his own life nor the death of others, seemed to aflbrd him that amuse- 
 ment and satisf\iction which he had known therein in former years ; and 
 it was wliispered all over the village, that he had found the second dose 
 of matrimony worse than the first. At length he had taken to his bed, 
 but the village doctor said there was no immediate danger, that he 
 might go on for months in his present state, and perhaps get well 
 again. The lawyer gave a hint to his relations, that on his marriage- 
 day he had made a will, leaving his whole substance to his present 
 wife. The relations thought that his views in those matters might be 
 changed, and urged him to make another testament, which he said he 
 would doj but put it off from day to day ; and, in the meantime, Mrs. 
 Scapulary devoted herself to attendance upon his sick-bed, with the 
 
54 Thk coMMtss^o^^*:R ; oft, 
 
 pleasing hope of frustrating the interested views of his kith and kin. 
 No solace, no recreation did she know, but a couple of hours' gossip 
 in the parlour adjoining his bed-room with her excellent friend 
 Smalldram, together with a glass or two of stilf gin and water, in 
 which he shared. Such was the state of things on the day preceding 
 the duel which we have recorded in the last chapter ; and although 
 all this seems to have nothing to do with Joey Pike, yet it will soon 
 be found, that he was not slightly connected therewith. 
 
 At the very time, then, that Harry Worrel was sitting within the 
 hospitable doors of the Half Moon, and talking to Mrs. Muggins in re- 
 gard to his father, his mother, his uncle, and the rest ; at that very 
 moment too, when the Chevalier de Lunatico was speeding along upon 
 the cantering galloway down the lane, towards Outrun castle, or 
 undergoing tlie unpleasant interrogatory of Mr. Jeremy Tripe ; at the 
 very moment that Lord Outrun, Tom Hamilton, and the Honourable 
 Henry Frederick Augustus Fitzurse were in the incipient dinner-state 
 of fish and soup, Mrs. Scapulary was coming aiid going between the 
 bed-room of her husband and the cottage-parlour which fronted 
 the street ; looking with a sweet face of assumed sensibility upon the 
 sick man, when in one chamber, and putting on the aspect of a devil 
 incarnate when she issued forth into the other. The beautiful contrast 
 of demeanour produced by the two apartments, was not confined to 
 mute signs alone ; for in the bed-room she would exclaim, in a gentle 
 though audible voice, " Do take a little gin and water, Toby, my 
 dear, it will do you good : there's a dear old man." But in the par- 
 lour she muttered in a low tone, " The nasty old varmint — a rat's a 
 nosegay to him." 
 
 There was evidently something, to use a common term, upon Mrs. 
 Scapulary's mind ; for she put her eye more than once to one of the 
 small panes of the cottage-window, and looked out into the moonlight 
 street of the little village, as if anxious to know what was taking 
 place. In so doing she squeezed her nose, which was reddish about 
 the wings, almost ilat against the glass ; which fact is mentioned liere, 
 merely to show the eagerness that she displayed. At length, how- 
 ever, a tap was heard at the window, upon whicli she opened the door, 
 and in walked the person of her friend Mr. Smalldram. 
 
 " The old brute's asleep," said Mrs. Scapulary, " but it won't last 
 long ; he always wakes about half-past eleven, and lies whining and 
 whimpering for an hour." 
 
 " But how are you yourself, my dear creetur ?" said Mr. Small- 
 dram. " Worn out with anxiety, I dare say," and at the same time he 
 squeezed her hand tenderly. 
 
 What Mrs. Scapulary replied to this courteous inquiry, it is not 
 needful to repeat ; but, however that may be, she and her good friend 
 sat down by the side of the round table ; a great glass bottle was 
 set upon it, with two rummers and a sugar-basin. A tea-kettle, 
 which was singing on the fire, made more than one excursion between 
 the grate and the table during the hour that succeeded, and an inter- 
 esting conversation took place, the most imi)ortant point in which 
 w as, that Mr. Smalldram informed Mrs, Scapulary that the new m ill 
 
DE LUNATICO iNQUlREi?t>04 $5 
 
 was drawn out by t^ie lawyer, that it was to be signed at twelve the 
 next day, and that if she did not mind what she was about, she 
 would be done. 
 
 This intimation threM' the lady into a thoughtful mood, and. Mr. 
 Smalldram followed up his hit by saying that if he were her he would 
 take care and stop that go. The mature consideration of these matters 
 was prevented for the time by the wakiug up of the worthy Tobias, who 
 began with a cough and v/eiit on with a growl, and thus continued, alter- 
 nately coughing, growling, and scolding, from half-past eleven till the 
 hour of two, M hen having insisted, upon his wife coming to bed, he fell 
 into a sound sleep. 
 
 Now it happened that Mrs. Scapulary had forgotten, on retiring to 
 rest, to tell Mr. Smalldram that it would be better for him to take his 
 departure, and. he consequently remained in the parlour, fraternizing 
 with the green glass bottle. As soon, however, as the worthy clerk 
 \vas asleep, his fair lady returned to the companionship ^hich she 
 affected more, and after ha^ ing comforted herself with a warm glass, 
 she made an observation or two upon her husband's high qualities — 
 declared that it was time he was gone — added a philosophical remark 
 or two upon the sorrows and cares of mortal existence, especially in a 
 man turned seventy, and then put a question of a delicate nature to 
 her worthy counsellor, who replied as before, 
 
 " No great harm, I should think." 
 i " Nor I either," said the dame. 
 
 " Does he sleep sound ?" said Mr. Smalldram. 
 
 " When he is asleep," replied the lady ; " but you'll make liim sleep 
 sound enough, Tonnny, if you have your way." 
 
 " Ay, ay, a wonderful narcotic that, as the doctor calls it," said 
 the worthy counsellor ; and both Mrs. Scapulary and Mr. Smalldram 
 chuckled low at the joke, and thought it a good one. 
 
 " But how is it to be done ?" demanded Mrs. Scapulary. 
 
 " Ay, that is the question," rejoined Mr. Smalldram. 
 
 " Couldn't I get some stuff for the rats and make a mistake ?" said 
 Mrs. Scapulary. " Sitch accidents will happen." 
 
 " The worst of it is," replied her counsellor, " that we are hard up 
 for time. The ^^ ill is to be signed to-morrow morning ; and besides 
 arsenic is so easy found out. Those d — d doctors will never let any 
 one poison people but themselve;?. 
 
 " I hate doctors," rejoined the clerk's wife abstractedly ; " they shall 
 never none of them come near me.' 
 
 " I don't dislike the doctors," said Mr. Smalldram, with a wink of 
 his left eye, which in its pristine state was considerably smaller than 
 the other ; " but I like to have them in my own hand. But let us 
 think how we can do the old chap. One could get a pillow and hold 
 it down over his mouth, you a one side and I of t'other ! He can't 
 have much wind left." 
 
 Mrs. Scapulary laughed, and Mr. Smalldram went on to say — " It's 
 classical too, my dear, that's the M'ay that Othello got rid of his 
 better half." 
 »^ " Ay," said the clerk's wife ; " but this old fellow's devilish strong 
 
5b THE commissioner; OB, 
 
 with always a shovelling up of the earth, and if he were once to get 
 his head out and screech, then we are done for, you know." 
 
 " Haven't you got a rope anywhere ?" said the ci-devant tin-man. 
 " I've little or no doubt he deserves to be hanged long ago I" 
 
 " Why there are the ropes he lets down the corpses with," said Mrs. 
 Scapulary ; " he keeps them just under the bed." 
 
 " I dare say," rejoined Mr. Smalldram, " that you could just slip one 
 end of it under his neck without waking him." 
 
 " I dare say I could," replied the lady ; " and if he did wake for a 
 minute he'd know nothing about it. I can slip it under the pillow." 
 
 " Take care not to catch the pillow in the noose," said the tinman, 
 " for that might spoil the job ; but if you can slip it in on one side, I 
 can stand behind the curtain on the other, we can then cross the 
 ends, and with one good pull the thing's done and over." 
 
 " Musn't pull too hard," answered the woman, " or you'll make a 
 mark." 
 
 " Why, you seem up to the trick, my dear," said Mr. Smalldram, 
 
 " I remember when Betty Price killed her baby," whispered Mrs. 
 Scapulary, " they said she never would have been found out if she 
 had been more gentle about it." 
 
 " Ay, ay, it's that overdoing a thing," said the tin-man in a philoso- 
 phical tone, "that spoils every job. Moderation in all things — 
 moderation in all things is the great rule ! Why, what o'clock is that?" 
 
 " It's four, upon my honour," replied Mrs. Scapulary. 
 
 " How the time goes in pleasant conversation," observed Mr. Small- 
 dram ; " but upon my life we must get to business, if the thing's to be 
 done at all." 
 
 " Stop a bit," exclaimed Mrs. Scapulary, " let us have a glass more 
 any how : here's just enough for you and me ;" and she divided the 
 last of the bottle between herself and her counsellor. 
 
 It was very evident, that whether she was affected by fear or com- 
 punction, she had some little reluctance to begin the task she had un- 
 dertaken, and Mr. Smalldram thought that he would be wanting in 
 courtesy if he pressed her too severely. He accordingly waited, only 
 indicating by long pauses his impatience to proceed with the work, till 
 about a quarter to five, when he remarked with a particular emphasis, 
 " It will soon be daylight." 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Scapulary, " let us set about it ;" and he pullmg 
 off his shoes, and she her slippers, they crept quietly, and on tiptoe, 
 into the room of the devoted clerk. 
 
 Poor Mr. Scapulary was in a profound sleep ; the rushlight, which he 
 had indulged in since he was taken ill, had burnt low down in the shade, 
 and there was just light enough to see the face of the pale, weazened 
 old man, as he lay breathing hard upon his back. Mrs. Scapulary 
 consoled and strengthened herself by calling him a nasty old varmint, 
 and then stooping down, drew from under the bed a long stout rope, 
 which she and her friend examined for a moment with inquiring eyes. 
 
 " It will do," said Mr. Smalldram, in a scientific tone. " I will go 
 round on this here side of the bed, and you stay on that there. Let 
 me keep behind the curtain till you get the rope through, for fear he 
 
DE LUNATICO IXQUIRENDO. 57 
 
 sliould wake as you are slipping it under. Whenever it's all safe I'll 
 take the end." 
 
 This being arranged in a whisper, the worthy gentleman proceeded 
 to the other side of the bed, and ensconced himself snugly behind the 
 curtain ; and the lady, taking the end of the rope dexterously between 
 her finger and thumb, slipped it, together with her arm, under the old 
 man's neck. 
 
 Tobias Scapulary was certainly somewhat roused by this unusual 
 mark of affection, and growled out, " What's the matter now ?" 
 
 " You are lying uncomfortable, my dear," said the lady in a sweet 
 tone. 
 
 " Let me alone," said the old man again ; " I should lie more com- 
 fortably if you had never lain beside me." 
 
 A silence ensued for a moment or two, and then Mr. Smalldram 
 gently emerging from his concealment took the end of the rope in his 
 hand, pulled it rapidly through, and twisted it with the other end, 
 which was thrown to him by Mr. Scapulary's better half. All this 
 could not be executed without waking the worthy clerk, who raised 
 himself a little on one elbow in wonder and fear, exclaiming, " Hallo ! 
 what's the matter ? Ugh, ugh, ugh !" and back he fell upon the bed, 
 while his wife pulled on one side and Mr. Smalldram on the other ; 
 the latter forgetting the caution he had received, and tugging so hard 
 as nearly to throw down his partner in this act of tuggee. 
 
 " Hold fast," cried Mr. Smalldram. " How the old fellow kicks ! 
 There, it'll soon be over ! Now, I think he ouglit to be obliged to us 
 for putting him out of his pain." 
 
 " Why, he's kicked all the bed-clothes off," said Mrs. Scapulary. 
 " Do help me to put him straight. Why, what are you about ?" 
 
 " Only seeing what he has got in his breeches-pocket," said Mr. 
 Smalldram. 
 
 " I declare that's not fair," said Mrs. Scapulary. 
 
 " That's a good un," said the man. " Not fair ? Why, you didn't 
 think that I was going to meddle with a job like this for nothing ? 
 Come, come ! you've got all that is to come after, my dear : so I'll just 
 have this ass in presenti, as the schoolmaster calls it," and thus saying 
 he thrust into his own breeches-pockets a whole handful of money, 
 notes, and papers, which he had found in those of the defunct Mr. 
 Scapulary. 
 
 " Well, help me to smooth him down," said Mrs. Scapulary. 
 " That's the least you can do. W^hy, we shall have somebody coming." 
 
 " Nonsense !" replied her worthy coadjutor, " every body is a-bed 
 and asleep." 
 
 " Why, it is quite daylight!" cried the woman, angrily; "don't you 
 see the blue light gleaming through the shutters ! " 
 
 " Well, then, it is time to set things straight indeed," said Mr. 
 Smalldram ; " and so we'll begin with his legs." 
 
 " Untie the rope first ! " replied the lady, who did seem to be, as 
 her friend remarked, somewhat of a connoisseur — I wish we could 
 make that word, feminine, in our tongue — " Untie the rope, or you'll 
 have a ring round his neck as blue as a beadle's coat ! " 
 
5S THE Comm1ssio?:f.r ; OK, 
 
 The rope \vas accordingly untied, and stowed away safely under the 
 bed ; the limbs were straig'htened : the bed put in order, and the whole 
 room made tidy, as Mrs. Scapulafy expressed herself. After which, 
 leaving the rushlight to burn itself out, the pretty pair walked into the 
 next chamber where they found that the candle which they had left nearly 
 in the socket when they had proceeded on their enterprise, had taken 
 the liberty of extinguishing itself, leaving a considerable smell of fried 
 tallow, which, mingled with the accumulated fragrance of gin, produced 
 not the most odoriferous atmosphere in the little parlour. Mrs. Sca- 
 pulary lighted another candle, for from some mysterious cause they did 
 not like to open the shutters and let in the daylight. They then stood 
 for several minutes gazing in each other's faces in silence. 
 
 " Well, Tom," asked the lady, " what's to be done now?" 
 
 " Nothing that I know of," replied her friend. " I shall go home, 
 nd go to bed I think." 
 
 " I don't like to go to bed," said the woman. " I'll wait here till a 
 little after six, and then go out for some milk. It's somewhat early, 
 but 111 say he wants some very bad." 
 
 " Ay I that'll be a good blind," cried Mr. Smalldram. " Then you 
 can come home and find him dead and make a great outcry !" 
 
 " That's it!" rejoined the lady. " Mind that you don't flush any of 
 those birds you've got in yoiu* pocket, Mr. Tom. The folks know 
 well enough your purse may be carried very easy ; so take care till 
 you and I are married." 
 
 " Don't be afraid ! " replied Mr. Smalldram ; " I am as careful as a 
 squirrel ; but I had better be jogging — I say, look out, there's a dear, 
 and see if there is any body near." 
 
 " Not I," cried the lady. " Peep through a cranny, and then bolt ! " 
 
 Not without much care and some hesitation did the ci-devant tin-man 
 screw up his mind to leave the cottage, which stood at an angle of the 
 road near the church. But after having opened the door carefully, and 
 looked up and down with a somewhat anxious glance, he darted away, 
 crossed the churchyard-stile, and disappeared amongst the trees. 
 
 Mrs. Scapulary closed the door, which he had left open, and then 
 stood for two or three minutes staring down upon the table. Was it 
 remorse that slung her ? — was it repentance ? No, reader, no ! — Was 
 it fear ? No, reader, no ! She had taken her precautions, as she 
 thought, so well, that fear had little to do with it. She was thinking, 
 on the contrary, on the handful of money and other things that her friend 
 had crammed into his breeches-pocket, and reproaching herself for 
 letting him take them. 
 
 " I've a great mind to accuse him of the murder!" she thought. 
 " The money will be found upon him, and he can't prove I had any 
 hand in it ! We'll see. If all goes quietly, why well — if not, it may 
 look as if he did it while I was away — I'll go out directly. There 
 goes six o'clock." 
 
 She had to return into the next room for her bonnet and shawl, and 
 for the first time she felt something like awe as she did so. All was 
 so still that the small still voice seemed to make itself attended to. She 
 would have given something to have heard the old man snore. Snatch- 
 
DE LUXATICO iXQriREXBO. 59 
 
 ing down the things from the shelf, she pnt them on in the parlour, and 
 then hurried out closing the door behind her. 
 
 She had been gone about ten minutes v,hen some one knocked at 
 the outer door and then lifted the latch. The door opened quickly 
 and the head of no less a person than Joey Pii^e appeared. " Mrs. Sca- 
 pulary!" he said, entering. "Hist, Mrs. Scapulary ! — we have com- 
 mitted a murder, and the John d'arms are upon our trusses — ]Vo?i c'e 
 signore ! — They are early people too — I'll tap at the camera di letto. 
 Perhaps they are dentro. I'll shut this door first, however," and 
 after closing the aperture by which he had entered, he approached the 
 inner room, and now for the first time perceived that the door was ajar. 
 " Hist, Mrs. Scapulary ! " he continued, in a low tone. " The old man 
 is ill, and I dare say she is asleep, povera, quite exhausted, poor dear 
 fanciullu — vendue^ as the French say ; but I must disturb her," and 
 pushing open tlie door witli a flourish of his hand he entered with one 
 toe pointed, the other extended behind him in the attitude of John of 
 Bologna's Mercury, and his head turned towards his left shoulder as if 
 in the act of listening. The stilhiess surprised him, especially as the 
 rushlight was still burning, and approaching the bedside, he looked in 
 and beheld tlie dead body of poor old Tobias Scapulary ! 
 
 " ii Morto r exclaimed Joey, in a Tamburini tone, and then open- 
 ing the window-shutter he looked into the bed again. The sight which 
 was now for the first time clearly displayed, had a great eflect upon 
 Joey. The eyes of the corpse were starting from the head, the tongue 
 was hanging from the mouth ; and without adding any farther parti- 
 culars, all the signs of a violent death presented themselves on the 
 face of the corpse. Joey was seized with an universal trembling ; 
 and not at all liking his quarters, he rushed into the parlour, opened 
 the outer door, nearly knocked down a man with a spade that was 
 going quietly along, and made oflf across the country at a very rapid 
 rate. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Mn. LONOMORK PROVES THAT HE CAN BE AN UNPLEASANT COMPANION THE CHE- 
 
 VALIEU'S DIPLOMATIC BENIGNITY THE NATURAL PHILOSOPHER FAILS IN SETTING 
 
 THE THAMES ON FIRE, BUT SUCCEEDS WITH UIS OWN HOUSE LAURA GETS OUT OP 
 
 THE FRYING-PAN IN THE USUAL MANNER. 
 
 Hat^ry Worrel sat upon the arm of the sofa, holding Laura's hand 
 in his, and Laura sat upon the sofa beside him, with her beautiful eyes 
 turned up towards his face, like one of the pretty little angels at the 
 foot of Titian's magnificent picture of the ascension of the Virgin, at 
 Venice, and they thus wasted nearly an hour looking at each otlier and 
 
60 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 saying little ; though, abstractedly speaking, it was very odd for them to 
 do so, as they had seen each other's faces very often before, and knew 
 every line and feature therein perfectly well. Such was the state of 
 things when their conference was brought to a sudden close by the door 
 opening and Mr. Longmore himself appearing with an open note in 
 his hand, and by no means his usual placable expression in his face. 
 It was evidently, as the great poet wrote, " torture, fury, rage, despair, 
 I cannot, cannot bear!" He did not, indeed, seem in the least surprised 
 to find Worrel in the drawing-room, but he did appear to be a little em- 
 barrassed as to how he should commence the attack he evidently medi- 
 tated upon some one. When Mardonius contended with Pausanias 
 at the famous battle of Plata^a, both the Persian and the Greek army 
 paused for several days, unwilling to commence that awful strife in 
 which five hundred thousand men encountered each other with the 
 purpose of cutting each other's throats. A retrograde movement 
 on the part of the Greeks — and a most idiotical movement it was, as 
 it was conducted, though it ended in undeserved victory — a retrograde 
 movement on the part of the Greeks, inducing an erroneous belief that 
 they were in retreat, brought on the battle ; and such was the case 
 also in the present instance — for if Plarry Worrel had continued sitting 
 nonchalantly on the arm of the sofsi, swinging his leg with a grace, 
 and taking the whole business quite as a matter of course, Mr. Longmore 
 would have found great difficulty in commencing the affray. Instead 
 of that, however, Harry jumped down, looked foolish, and began to 
 stammer forth some account of his sudden return. 
 
 *' Sir," said Mr. Longmore, " I am not in the least surprised to see 
 you — 1 doubt not you have run here as hard as you could come — I 
 trust, however, that it is the last time that you will present yourself 
 in my house ! So, sir, you must needs go and shoot the gentleman I 
 had selected for my son-in-law. I can tell you, sir, that if you took 
 that way to recommend yourself as his successor, you are very much 
 mistaken. I beg that you will take your departure as speedily as pos- 
 sible ; for though, perhaps, I am in duty bound to cause you to be 
 taken up immediately, yet I would rather not so deal with my near 
 kinsman, if I can avoid it !" 
 
 " Oh ! papa, dear papa !" cried Laura, " do not be so hard-hearted !" 
 
 " Hush, girl," exclaimed the old gentleman ; " if I thought you had 
 
 given this young man any encouragement Pel Pd Pd turn 
 
 you out of doors too !" 
 
 Laura, very confident that he would not long keep her out, almost 
 wished that he would fulfil his threat, that she might have a fair excuse 
 for making a little tour to Gretna Green with him she loved best on all 
 the earth. But Worrel having recovered himself, and the worst of the 
 business now being over, made, by accident, one of those happy replies 
 which, though it did not check the fury of Mr. Longmore [it the time, 
 rested upon his mind for many months after, and by tickling gently one 
 of the weak points about him, greatly mollified him towards the 
 speaker. 
 
 " Well, sir," he said, " I am sorry you disapprove of my conduct ; 
 but I do thmk, when you come to consider of it, you will not judge 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 61 
 
 SO harshly, and will see, that I ought not to suffer your kimman to be 
 grossly insulted by any man in all the realm, be he a poor man, or be he 
 a prince." Now, iiad Worrel called himself any thing else on earth but 
 " your kinsman," it would not have had the same effect upon Mr. Long- 
 more; as it was, however, it struck him even at the moment, that there' 
 was some truth in what Worrel said, and that his kinsman ought not to 
 be insulted. The current of his anger did, perhaps, ebb a little ; but he 
 still continued to insist upon Worrel's quitting the house in the same 
 tone in which he had begun. 
 
 " Sir," he said, " I care nothing about that : you might be insulted 
 or you might not, that is nothing to me ! But, sir, what is very nmch 
 to me is, your making love to my daughter, sir. That I don't choose ; 
 and, I must say that it was very wrong, when you well knew that 
 I always intended her to marry the Honom-able Henry Augustus 
 Frederick Fitzurse, and in due course of time become Viscountess 
 Outrun." 
 
 " Indeed, my dear sir," replied Harry, " I knew no such thing, 
 for if I had known it, I might have kept myself out of the way of 
 temptation." 
 
 " That you wouldn't, Harry," said Laura, half laughing, half crying ; 
 " but one thing I know, though I don't mean to be disobedient, and do 
 what papa tells me not, yet nothing on earth would ever have made me 
 marry that ugly sot, if he and I had lived for ever." 
 
 " Laura, you will put me in a passion," cried Mr. Longmore, " a 
 state I have not been in since your poor, dear mother died. But there 
 is only one word needs to be said — you must go, Mr. Worrel, you must 
 go ; and let me beg of you not to come back again, till you are sent 
 for, which will be long enough, I trow." 
 
 Worrel felt anger mingling with sorrow and disappointment, and 
 being somewhat afraid of his own temper, he made up his mind to the 
 bitter step, which he knew he must take at last, which was neither 
 more nor less than a step out of the drawing-room window. Snatching 
 up his hat then, and resolved — like all prudent people, when they find 
 that they cannot get every thing that they want — to take as much as 
 he could get, he caught Laura to his bosom, for a moment, gave her 
 one warm and hearty kiss, much to Mr. Longmore's consternation and 
 astonishment, and without waiting for a reproof, walked out at once 
 into the garden, through the shrubbery, up the hill, and into the little 
 fir-wood at the top. 
 
 In the meanwhile, Mr. Longmore and Laura were left confronting 
 each other ; and, to say the truth, Laura's courage, like that of Bob 
 Acres, began to ooze out at the palms of her hands : to which dimi- 
 nution of valour, if we say the truth, the kiss she had just received 
 from her lover had not a little contributed. It was not alone that 
 being kissed in company is, in itself, a somewhat agitating thing ; and 
 also, that being kissed before her father, against her father's will, was 
 still more agitating ; but also, that Laura recollected that this identical 
 kiss was the last she was likely to have for a very long time, which 
 was the most agitating of all. With that kiss came to an end, perhaps 
 for years, the sweet whispered words of mutual confidence, the looks 
 
62 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 that explained or directed more fully than an oration, the meaning 
 smile^ the light laugh to one another, the gay jest, comprehended by 
 none but themselves — all were over for the time, and Laura thought 
 with the poet, " Sine amove jocisque nil est jucundum'^ 
 
 Her courage then had ftiiled her, her heart was sad, and, in short, 
 she was not at all in a fit condition to encounter an angry man. Had 
 she acted politically — as she knew from her experience of her father's 
 character what would be the right way to assuage his anger, and 
 to come at her own object — Laura would have laughed at him, 
 teased him, made light of him ; but somehow, she had not the heart to 
 do it at the moment that she knew it to be the most necessary ; and 
 there she stood before him looking like a culprit, which is always tlie 
 surest possible way to be condemned as such. What might have come 
 of it no one can tell ; but just at the moment when Mr. Longmore was 
 about to pour forth a torrent of anger and reprehension upon his poor 
 daugliter's head — when he was in the very act of opening his moutli to 
 tell her, that he would leave her his curse, his whole curse, and 
 nothing but his curse, if she ever thought of marrying Harry Worrel 
 — the sound of an easy-going horse was heard, and the cantering 
 galloway was seen coming along the road with no other than the 
 Chevalier de I^unatico upon his back. 
 
 The whole soul of Mr. Longmore melted at the sight of his new 
 acquaintance, such was the wonderful effect of the chevalier's powers, 
 and out the old gentleman ran to pour forth into the friendly ear of the 
 peripatetic chevalier the tale of his misfortunes. Every thing was dis- 
 played in a moment ; all the little secret vanities which were wounded 
 by what had occurred to IMr. Fitzurse, all the private stock of petty 
 passions, concealed purposes, and latent expectations, which go to 
 make up the sum of every man's motives in every course that he pur- 
 sues ; how it would have been very pleasant for him to hear his daughter 
 called Viscountess Outrun, and to have it put down in the peerage that 
 she was the daughter of Jerry Longmore, Esquire, of Ivy-hall, in the 
 
 county of ; and how the mayor of the neighbouring town, who 
 
 had made a large fortune as an attorney, and had three immarried 
 daughters, would have been ready to eat his nails when he heard that 
 Laura Longmore had become the Honourable Mrs. Fitzurse ; and how 
 he (Mr. Longmore) would have looked down upon the aldermen and 
 town councillors, who had neglected or refused to give him their votes 
 when liis name was put up for the mayoralty. There were fifty similar 
 beautiful prospects blighted by the unfortunate affidr of the morning, 
 and Mr. Longmore was infinitely relieved by unbudgetting his griefs to 
 the chevalier ; who, with true diplomatic self-possession and propriety, 
 walked on beside him into the drawing-room, took Lam-a's hand and 
 kissed the tips of her fingers with ceremonious respect, and inquiring 
 tenderly after her health, whispered, in a low voice, that all was well and 
 would go well. He then turned to Mr. Longmore, and by his pleasant 
 suavity, soon contrived to restore that gentleman to equanimity. He 
 did not press him upon the subject of Worrel, indeed, nor give any 
 opinion upon the various matters which Mr. Longmore submitted 
 to his consideration, as to whether he (Mr. Longmore) had not been 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 6^ 
 
 very ill treated, as to whether Laura had not behaved shamefully, 
 as to whether Worrel had not behaved worse, and as to whether Mr. 
 Fitzurse was not the very most eligible husband that could possibly be 
 selected. Acting with becoming caution, the chevalier gave a guarded 
 answer to all these questions. He pointed out to Mr. Longmore that it 
 was the most natural thing in the world for two young people to fall in 
 love with each other, but that if they did nothing more than fall in love, 
 no great harm was done. " Love and matrimony," he continued, " are, 
 as you well know, my dear sir, the most distinct things in the world, 
 very often indeed the most opposite. As far as I can learn, there is no 
 connection between them whatsoever, so that thousands fall in love 
 without marrying, and thousands marry every day without falling in 
 love. Thus, my dear sir, the past seems to me better than you imagine, 
 and nobody can tell what may be in the womb of futurity ; so that 
 leaving destiny to work her part, and bring forth the yet unevolved 
 events which lie hid under the dark apron of the coming times, let us 
 rejoice in the facilities which are allotted to decorate the present 
 moment, cull the floral blossoms that burgeon for us on the bountiful 
 branches of each instant of our time, and satiate ourselves with those 
 delightful thoughts and exhilarating reflections which prolong the season 
 of rejoicing life, and procrastinate the approach of the period of decay 
 and extinction." 
 
 " Highly philosophical and beautiful," said Mr. Longmore ; and 
 though Laura thought that there was a strong touch of the rigmarole 
 in the chevalier's speech, she took care not to say a word, while Mr. de 
 Lunatico, with that exquisite diplomatic tact which the reader must 
 already have discovered in him, pointed the application with the argii- 
 mentinn ad hominem, by saying — 
 
 " What I mean, my dear sir, is, that although, in consequence of 
 your oath, you cannot admit me into your observatory, you have, I 
 know, a thousand curious and wonderful discoveries and inventions in 
 sciences unconnected with astronomy which you are bound, by the 
 liberality of true philosophy, to make me fully acquainted with." 
 
 Mr. Longmore sprang at the bait, like a half-famished trout at a May- 
 fly, and the chevalier making a martyr of himself for the sake of the fair 
 Laura, was soon plunged into Galvanic troughs, surrounded by leaden 
 vessels, the butt of electrical machines, and impaled upon the needles 
 of microscopes. Sometimes he was wheezing under the presence of an 
 infinity of azote ; sometimes he was coughing under a superabundance 
 of oxygen ; sometimes he was sneezing under the extrication of hydrogen ; 
 and just before dinner-time, Mr. Longmore set going for his especial 
 satisfaction, his grand new invention called the self-acting-perpetuo- 
 motival-electro-magnetic machine. 
 
 We have already explained to the reader Mr. Longmore's peculiar 
 notions with regard to the precision of his dinner-hour, and on the pre- 
 sent occasion the little bell, which announced that it was time for people 
 to wash their hands, comb their hair, and smooth their faces, made 
 itself heard at the moment that his grand machine was just getting into 
 operation. Without waiting to stop it, Mr. Longmore retired for the 
 purposes of ablution, and sat down to dinner, purposing to have 
 
64 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 another look before he went to bed. The conversation, however, became 
 animated and interesting ; Mr. Longmore forgot his purposes, and the 
 whole party retired to rest, excepting the self-acting-perpetuo-motival- 
 electro-magnetic machine, which went on in a furious state of activity 
 in a little room to the right of the passage by which one entered the 
 house. The Chevalier de Lunatico, however, had not forgotten that he 
 was bound by engagement to meet Harry Worrel and Joey Pike that 
 night in the garden, and accordingly, after waiting a reasonable time 
 to suffer the inmates of the house to go sound asleep, he opened his 
 door, descended the staircase, and was very soon shaking hands with 
 his young friend. Joey was there also, reclining on the grass in the 
 attitude of the dying Gladiator, and starting up with the grace of a 
 dancing fawn, he began to give the chevalier an account, in what the 
 newspapers call glowing language, of his visit to the cottage of poor 
 old Scapulary. But just as he was telling the chevalier that at 
 first sight he had thought the old man either in a state of sin- 
 cuppj/, or else morto, a loud explosion, like the bursting forth of a 
 volcano, was heard in the house, and while they were gazing in each 
 other's faces, asking each other what could be the matter, flames burst 
 forth from two windows on the ground-floor, and every other considera- 
 tion w as swallowed up in the necessity of giving immediate assistance. 
 The truth was, that the self-acting-perpetuo-motival-electro-magnetic 
 machine had gone on w orking away till it had charged itself and every 
 thing around it with such a quantity of the electric fluid, that a spark 
 was elicited by a neighbouring piece of brass. Close by lay a large 
 quantity of a newly-invented detonating powder, the whole mass 
 ignited, thousands of other compounds joined the flame, and the whole 
 place was in a blaze in a moment. 
 
 Hushing into the house, the chevalier and Harry Worrel soon roused 
 and brought out Mr. Longmore and Laura in a state of picturesque 
 dishabille. Joey Pike betook himself to the maids, and at the end of 
 about five minutes the whole party were collected on the green, while a 
 number of persons from the neighbouring cottages swarmed to the 
 spot, and an engine came rattling up from the little town. Suddenly, 
 however, Laura exclaimed — 
 
 " Oh, dear, I have forgot ! Oh, dear, I have forgot !" And before 
 any one could stop her she rushed back into the house by a small door 
 which was tolerably free from the flames. Harry Worrel w^as at that 
 moment working away in a different quarter to save some things for 
 which Mr. Longmore was very anxious, but the moment he heard of 
 Laura's proceeding, which was not till some little time had elapsed, he 
 was rushing in after her like a madman, when he was stopped and for- 
 cibly dragged back by two men, and in an instant after the roof fell in 
 with a dreadful crash. 
 
DE LVNATICO INQUIRED DO. 65 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 WHEREIN THE BUENlKtt OF MR. LONGMORE's HOUSE IS COMPARED TO ANOTHER 
 
 CELEBRATED CONFLAGRATION JERRY TRIPE PROVES CAPTIVATING, AND THU 
 
 CHEVALIER, ACCOMPANIED BY HIS FRIENDS, IS PROVIDED WITH A CONVEYANCE 
 
 FROM THE SCENE OF ACTION JERRY FINDS THAT A DIAMOND CAN SOMETIMES CUT 
 
 A DIAMOND, AND SHOWS THAT HE 18 FERTILE IN RESOURCES THE ADVANTAGES 
 
 OF BEING IN THE SAME BASK.ET WITH AN ENEMY. 
 
 Pandemonium was nothing to it, at least not the Pandemonium of 
 Milton, which was, apparently, a well-regulated, quiet congregation of 
 gentlemanly devils, and very much more orderly than most British 
 Houses of Commons — especially since the reform bill. But, as I was 
 saying. Pandemonium was nothing to it in any respect, except the fire ; 
 for it is pi^obable that what Shakespeare calls " the everlasting bonfire," 
 was a blaze or two stronger than the conflagration of poor Mr. Long- 
 more's house. But, in one or two particulars, the burning of Ivy-hall 
 certainly outdid the other place ; they might have plenty of demons in 
 Hades, but they had no fire engines ; they had no constables, pretending 
 to keep order, and creating confusion at every step ; they had no firemen ; 
 they had 'no parish beadle ; they had no crowd of lookers-on, shout- 
 ing, and roaring, and bellowing forth every sort of contradictory direc- 
 tion ; they had no little boys crying out " My eye I" 
 
 Thus, we may well say, that Pandemoniiun was nothing to the scene 
 romid Mr. Longmore's house just at the moment when — about half an 
 hour after the fire began — one-half of the people of the neighbouring 
 manufacturing town, and a great nmnber from the country round, had 
 found time to come up with engines, carts, water buckets, and constables* 
 staves. The sights and the noises were all equally terrible ; the people 
 were shouting, as we have said ; the cattle in the cow-house were bel- 
 lowing ; the dogs were barking and howling ; the fire was roaring, and 
 the engine pipes were hissing ; a good number of women were scream- 
 ing, and some of the children, whose toes had been trod upon, were 
 crying. Then as to the sights — fire and smoke were issuing from every 
 window, and towering over the observatory ; while flames of every 
 colour, that an infinite variety of chemical compounds could produce, 
 were flickering over the walls, and casting the most extraordinary hues 
 over the countenances of the spectators. Now, they were all as blue 
 as bilberries with the flare up of spirits-of-wine and sulphur ; then 
 they were as green as grass from the ignition of copper and muriatic 
 acid ; then they were as yellow as a London fog ; and then they were 
 as red as the sun when he struggles through it. Here was seen a 
 chimney falling in ; there appeared a fireman perched upon a tottering 
 c. — NO. III. F 
 
69 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 wall; in one place were two constables taking each other into custody 
 by mistake ; in another, was an Irish engineer cutting off the fire by 
 knocking down a small building, on the top of which a v»'hole brigade 
 of his companions were standing ; and in the midst of a group of 
 maids, fainting in the most determined manner, might be beheld Mr. 
 Longmore tearing his hair, and Harry Worrel struggling violently 
 with, two men who strove to hold him ; while on a little mound stood 
 Joey Pike with his head turned away from the building, as if to kee}) 
 his eyes from the sight, and his two hands extended towards it, much 
 in the attitude of ohe of the yomig people in the faiiious group of Niobe 
 and her children. 
 
 " O Dio die penal cried Joey Pike." 
 
 " Let me go, or by Heaven I will pitch you into the flames," exclaimed 
 Worrel. 
 
 " My daughter, my poor girl I" said Mr. Longmore. " Oh, if you 
 will get her out I will let her marry any one she likes.'' 
 
 But it was all in vain ; nobody dared to approach the part of the 
 building which Laura had entered, except Harry Worrel, and the two 
 men who held him would not let him, although lie struggled with them 
 most furiously, and would not listen to a word they said. He had 
 nearly shaken off" their hold, however, when a third came Up and got 
 hold of his collar behind, and, at the same time, a fourth appeared in 
 front, presenting to his sight the never-to-be-forgotten or mistaken 
 rubicund proboscis of Jeremy Tripe, looking in the hot blaze of the 
 fire like a fresh-made beef sausage upon a gridiron. 
 
 " Now," said Jerry, " now you've got one of them ; don't miss the 
 -other two. There stands my friend Joey ; one of you two grab him, 
 •and I'll take Tom with me, and get hold of IMaster Mousetrappico. 
 Come along, Tom, get out your staff*, my man, for he's a cunning old 
 blade, and up to a thing or two." 
 
 Thus sayhig, he led the way up to the place where the chevalier 
 stood, endeavouring to be consolatory upon Mr. Longmore ; and the 
 gentleman, who was called Tom, laid his hand upon the commissioner's 
 shoulder, thrusting a short ebony stick, with a brass crown on the toj) 
 of it, into his face, and remarking pithily, " I apprehend you for 
 murder." 
 
 \ " Indeed !" exclaimed the chevalier with a benignant smile, not at all 
 unwilling to see all the phases of life in Great Britain. " Indeed ! 
 Upon this business of Mr. Fitzurse, I suppose ?" 
 
 " Exactly so, sir," replied the constable. 
 
 " Well, then," rejoined the chevalier, looking full in the face of 
 Jeremy Tripe, " every one present being a particeps criminis, I give 
 this good gentleman with the rubicund gnomon in charge also ; for I'm 
 resolved not to be without the pleasure of his company." 
 
 Every part of the countenance of Jeremy Tripe ^\ liich could turn 
 white did so, and the nose remained, like the top of Mont Blanc at 
 sunset, still rosy with the light that had left the rest of his countenance. 
 He loved hot the idea of prisons ; he was in no way fond of the idea 
 of magisterial investigations ; but there was no help for it in the present 
 
DE LUNATICO INQtJlRENDO. 67 
 
 Case. The charge was given ; the constable could not help taking 
 him, and in a very few minutes the Chevalier de Lmiatico, Harry 
 Worrel, Joey Pike, and Jeremy Tripe, were proceeding in a light cart 
 towards the village of Outrun under the tender care of a couple of 
 constables. 
 
 Constables, however, are, and ever have been, thirsty souls ; the fire 
 at Ivy Hall had heated and dried them, at least so it seemed from the 
 expressions they made use of; for one declared, close in the ear of Mr. 
 de Lmiatico, that he would give something for a pot of beer to moisten 
 his clay, and the other vowed that he was as thirsty as a sandpit iu 
 the dog days. The chevalier did not take the hint: perhaps indeed did 
 not understand it ; but Jeremy Tripe did both, and replied, " There is 
 very good beer at the George, half a mile on the road. If you like to 
 stop there for an hour I'll stand a pot or two." 
 
 The chevalier listened with some attention, for although he had, as 
 we have shown, acquired a marvellous knowledge of the English 
 tongue, there vvas one branch of it of which he vras utterly ignorant, 
 and that, one of the richest and most poetical of all its dialects ; I 
 mean the language of the Elephant and castle, and the parts adjacent. 
 Thus, though he easily conceived that the respectable butler of Lord 
 Outrun was employing some sublime figure of rhetoric, yet he could 
 not comprehend, even after much puzzling, how Mr. Tripe could starid 
 a pot or tico. if he Iiad said that he would stand in a pot or two, the 
 chevalier thought he could have seen some meaning ; but, as it was, he 
 could only suppose that the pots were to be thrown at the worthy 
 butler's head, which, he concluded, must be some sort of process in law 
 peculiar to this country. 
 
 " He says he will stand a jiot or two," remarked the chevalier in a 
 low voice to Harry Worrel. " Shall we all have to go through the 
 same ceremony ?" 
 
 " I suppose so," said Worrel, in a tone of despair ; and the chevalier 
 would have gone on, labouring under the same mistake, had not Mr. 
 Tripe himself explained his own plans and piu-poses in a low and con* 
 fidential tone. 
 
 " You see," he said, " if I give them something to drink ^" 
 
 " Oh !" said the chevalier, "that's what you mean by standing a pot 
 or two, is it ?" 
 
 " Exactly," answered Jerry ; " if I give them something to drink, Mr. 
 Worrel must do the same, and you'll come in perhaps with something 
 stronger, a go or two of moonshine, or something of that sort." 
 
 " With all my heart," said the chevalier ; " that's quite in my way ; 
 but what then ?" 
 
 " W^hy, then, we'll make them drunk," said Jerry. *' I know Tom' the 
 constable well enough. He never could resist liquor in his life, and 
 yet when he gets it, he can't carry it. However we'll make them 
 drunk, and then it will be easy enough for us to make our escape." 
 
 " Rather a strange proceeding this on your part," said the chevalier, 
 putting his hand in his pocket once more, " first to give me into custody, 
 and next to help me to escape." 
 
 " Ay, but I was not in the same basket at first," said Mr. Tripe ; 
 
Q^ THE COMMISSIONER ; OK, 
 
 " you checkmated me there, Master Pragmatico- Now that you have 
 put me in the same unpleasant condition with yourself, I'll do my best 
 to get out, even though I'm forced to take you along with me. I'll 
 tell you what, old gentleman, if one could serve all lawgivers as you 
 served me, and make them taste a touch of the rod that they pickle 
 for other people, we should have a somewhat more humane statute- 
 book than we have got. Many a judge may like hanging but not being 
 hanged, and half the members of parliament who vote water-gruel for 
 the poor, would make it turtle-soup if they had the eating of it. No, 
 no, I'm not fond of being put in prison 'till the next assizes, it don't 
 suit me at all." 
 
 " But perhaps it may suit me," replied the chevalier ; " tastes may 
 differ you know, Mr. Tripe ?" 
 
 " Your's must be a rum 'un, then," rejoined the butler ; " but you'll 
 never be such a fool surely as to keep Mr. Worrel here and our friend 
 Joey in prison for a month, and very likely have them hanged after 
 all, for a mere whim ?" 
 
 " For &, frolic, perhaps !" said the chevalier with emphasis. " What 
 say you, Joey ? Have you much aversion to see the inside of a prison ?" 
 " Great," replied Joey, throwing out his right arm and laying his 
 left hand vipon his breast, as if he were about to say — ' My name is 
 Norval. On the Grampian hills my father feeds his flock — ' " Great, 
 most potent, grave, and reverend signor ! Nevertheless I am ready to 
 follow you to captivity and to death. 1 am your devoo-y. Let us go, 
 sir, let us go," he continued, tossing aloft his arms — " sventurato io 
 son. Yes, sir, I will go with you, and while we remain I will write 
 with a calymo cowranty a history of i miei prigioni. We will be 
 second Sylvia Pellicles.^* * 
 
 " What the devil is he talking about ?" exclaimed the constable, who 
 had caught a few of the last words. " If he don't mind I'll put the 
 darbies on him." 
 
 " No, no ; you won't, Tom," said Jerry Tripe. " We're all quiet 
 respectable people, you know ; and besides, this sort of nm^der isn't 
 like another, you know. Nobody's ever hanged for it. It's one of those 
 diseases that cures itself. I heard the parson once say that in this, as 
 in other instances, the enormity of the crime secured its impunity, and 
 that gentlemen who commit murder aren't hanged like other men, be- 
 cause they ought to know better. There's every reason why a juryman 
 should perjure himself for a gentleman ; but there's no reason on earth 
 why he should perjure himself for a beggar. It would be a hard case 
 if those who make the laws and those who dispense them, have not a 
 right to put by any little pet crimes for their own private picking. So 
 as to putting any one into the darbies for having had a hand in a duel, 
 that would be very improper indeed !" 
 
 " Ay, ay," answered the constable, " that's true enough ; but we 
 have not got this here fellow, 'cause of the trick in the lane. He's 
 booked for the murder of old Toby Scapulary the clerk !" 
 
 Joey Pike uttered a shriek. One would have supposed they had got 
 Miss O'Neill acting Jane Shore in the cart. ** I knew it," he cried ; 
 I knew it 1" 
 
BE LUXATICO INQUlUENDO* 69 
 
 " Then why the devil did you do it ?" said the constable. " But 
 don't go on screeching in that v»'ay, or I'll handcuff you in good 
 earnest." 
 
 Joey, in the mortal agony which the thought of handcuffs produced, 
 thrust the chevalier to one side of the cart and Harry Worrel to the 
 other, knocked Jerry Tripe back by a kick in the stomach, and 
 dropping gracefully upon one knee, with his head bent and his hands 
 extended, remained in the position of Domenichino's St. Ann bowing 
 her head for martyrdom. 
 
 The constable was puzzled, and certainly would have handcuffed 
 him to bring his graces to an end, but it was the story of the bell- 
 ringer and the king : he had no handcuffs to put on, and Jerry Tripe 
 recovering his position, bent his red nose benignly over Joey and 
 interceded with the constable in moving terms. The latter suffered 
 himself to be appeased, the discussion in regard to pots of beer was 
 renewed, and after sundry soft solicitations Tom himself ordered the 
 cart to stop at the road-side alehouse, and the prisoners were ushered 
 into a room where the foaming tankard began to circulate freely at the 
 expense of Mr. Tripe. Tom and his fellow^- constable did ample jus- 
 tice to the goodness of the malt ; but after a while they found beer 
 rather cold for the stomach, and the chevalier taking the butler's hint 
 proposed some moonshine, which liowever cool in name proved some- 
 what fiery in nature. Tom vowed he would take no more, but consented 
 to drink a glass with Jerry ; then remarking the lachrymose state of 
 Mr. Pike's face, he invited him to some half-and-half to cheer him ; 
 then respectfully drank Mr. Worrel's health and then the chevalier's ; 
 after which he repeated his vow, and like an honest man anxious to 
 avoid temptation, made an effort to get upon his legs. By some pro- 
 cess or another, however, a large quantity of lead seemed to have been 
 transposed into his nether man. He was, in short, exactly like one of 
 those little tumbling figures, whicli, whatever Avay you turn them, fall 
 back upon the loaded end. Down he went upon his chair as often as 
 he got upon his feet, and finding it impossible to contend with circum- 
 stances, he determined to wait for a better opportunity, and while me- 
 ditating upon the frailty of human nature, instinctively filled himself 
 another glass. At the same moment, to his surprise and consternation 
 his fellow-constable volunteered a song, and with unparalleled gene- 
 rosity treated the company to the sound of his voice without reward, 
 or pressing, or invitation either. 
 
 constable's song. 
 
 There was an old man, in "Warwick town, 
 
 (Hiccup.) 
 "Who wanted to treat a girl to a gown ; 
 
 (Hiccup.) 
 He went into a shop, with a hey-derry down, 
 And took a piece off — hy mistake. 
 
 (Hiccup.) 
 
70 THE COMMtSSIO^^ER ', OR, 
 
 The Bliopman lie gral)bed his neck in a trice, 
 And said, he shoukl pay summat more than the price ; 
 Or of Bottomy Bay he would give him a spice — 
 And that without any mistake. 
 
 *' I can't, indeed, Mr. President — I'm very hoarse — I've forgot tlie next 
 stanza — there's no use pressing a man when he says he can t." 
 
 " Timothy, you're drmik," hiccupped Tom his compeer. 
 
 "Drunk! you lie, it's you are drunk!" and thereupon Tom be- 
 coming pugnacious made a vast effort to rise from his seat for the 
 purpose of knocking down Timothy ; but Jerry Tripe on this occasion 
 generously interfered and brought about a reconciliation over a jorum 
 of half-and-half, which left one constable in a fit of maudlin, and the 
 other in that uproarious stage which very frequently precedes profound 
 quietude. 
 
 " Ay, Joey, Joey," cried Tom, addressing our poor friend Joey 
 Pike, who had sat in deep despondency at one corner of the table ; 
 " You're a good creature, Joey ; you're an excellent good creature 
 npon my life. How could you think of murdering the poor old man ? — 
 
 I loved old Scapulary, upon my sovd 1 did 1 loved old Toby 
 
 Scapulary very much indeed 1 loved him like my brother. He 
 
 buried my grandfather. — Indeed he did, dug the grave and all " 
 
 and thereupon he burst into a profuse flood of tears. 
 
 " Hi fal lal de ral tit," cried the other constable. " Jerry Tripe, 
 here's to ye, old covey — you're a rum 'un as ever I see, with your nose 
 
 like a beet-root, and your eye like an oyster — D n me why do 
 
 you reel about in your chair? You're as drunk asT)avid's sow, Jerry — 
 not the first time by some thousands, I should think — and there's 
 Tom looks as if he had got two heads. He that never had half a one 
 
 in his life What are you sitting so solemn for, Master Harry? You're 
 
 drunk too ; stupid drunk, I suppose — that's worse than merry drunk 
 like old Jerry Tripe." 
 
 Worrel looked very much as if he would have knocked the constable 
 down, but such an act would certainly have been an act of supereroga- 
 tion ; for Timothy, by sundry curious evolutions, contrived to get hold 
 of the gin bottle, made himself another glass of gin and water, one to 
 two (by the inverse rule of three) stirred it up with the brass end of his 
 constable's staff, drank off one half it, and then slipping over the 
 bench on which he was sitting, came gently dovrn, with the back of 
 his head leaning upon a chair in a corner, and his feet propped up by 
 the bench, nearly on a level with the table. His companion, Tom, 
 moralized over his fall, shed tears for his loss, and by immense exer- 
 tions got himself upon his knees to pick liim up. But the effort extin- 
 guished all that V, as left of power and reason in the body of Tom the 
 constable, and falling athwart his friend they remained together on the 
 floor, forming a St. Andrew's cross, the grace of which no one attempted 
 to disturb. 
 
 " Now, gentlemen," said Jerry Tripe, '^ I'm at your service. Mr. 
 Extatico, with your leave we'll pay the bill, and be off, I know what 
 
v^Ac- ■ .. 
 
BE LUNATICO INQUIKENDO. f 1 
 
 the score will be, so let every one put a couple of shillings into my hat, 
 and then there will be no long reckoning in the tap." 
 
 The matter was soon arranged to Mr. Tripe's satisfaction, the whole 
 party walked out of the parlour, Jerry paid for all, and the landlord 
 seemed not in the least disposed to bar their egress. The cai't still 
 stood at the door and into it they all got, judging it would afford the 
 quickest means of getting out of harm's way. The renoA\Tied Joey 
 seized the reins, placed himself in the attitude of Phaeton in the frontis- 
 piece to Garth's translation of Ovid, shook the reins and away they 
 went. But after they had gone about a quarter of a mile, the judicious 
 butler seized the youth's arm at the corner of a lane, and exclaiming, 
 " Now, we'll bilk them !" informed his hearers that it would be better 
 to descend and separate, tiu-ning the horse and cart into the lane, which 
 led, he said, heaven only knows where, and in which it v.as impossible 
 for the beast to turn. The whip was ingeniously tied so as to dangle 
 loosely over the horse's back, and a sound bastinado being applied 
 to that part which was nearest the cart, he set off with as much 
 rapidity as he could command, leaving deep tracks of the wheels 
 behind him. 
 
 " Excuse me if I don't invite you to my house," said Jerry Tripe, 
 taking leave of his companions ; and without farther farewell he vaulted 
 over a gate into the nearest field, and left the other three to pursue 
 their course as they liked. '' 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 gOME SUSPICION OF A OHOST — A SCKNE OP SOUROW — THE BENEVOLENT RAILER. 
 
 *' Wheke shall we go now r" said the chevalier. 
 
 " Ah, doaviey I indeed," said Joey Pike, in a desponding tone. 
 
 " I care little wliere I go now," replied Worrel, in the accents of 
 deep grief; " all the world is the same to me, and all is void." 
 
 " Still," said the chevalier, " it is' perhaps necessary that %ve should 
 find some place in which to pass the night ; otherwise we have made 
 a bad exchange, from the cart for our conveyance, and a prison for 
 our lodging, to our own legs and a dirty lane." 
 
 " I am very selfish, I believe," replied Worrel ; " and certainl}', 
 my dear friend, I have no right to make you suffer such incon- 
 veniences. However, I can find you a place of shelter. About two 
 miles across the moor, near the little village of Winterly, lies the 
 cottage of my foster-mother, a widow woman with an only son. They 
 see very little of the world there, so we shall be safe ; and, although 
 
72 THE COMMISSIONER ; 01?, 
 
 she is gone to bed, poor thing ! long before this time, I can venture 
 to knock her up." 
 
 " A foster-mother ! a foster-motlier 1" cried the chevalier. " Have 
 people two mothers in this country ? — How do they manage it r" 
 
 " Sometimes it happens," answered Harry Worrel, " that mothers 
 cannot nurse their own children. Sometimes nature, sometimes cir- 
 cumstances forbid it. The former was the case with my poor mother, 
 and 1 was nursed by this good woman whom I mentioned." 
 
 " True, master Harry, true," replied Joey Pike ; " but you know 
 there are plenty of mothers in England, who, with every sort of 
 agreemang and commodity^ never think of nursing their poor babies 
 at all. They turn over their children to mercenaires — all for fear of 
 spoiling their hellezza^ 
 
 " You must introduce me to a few of them, Joey," said the cheva- 
 lier. " I think I should have a w ord or two to say to those women who 
 deprive tJiemselves of that occupation for which nature seems to have 
 reserved the combination of duty and delight. But let us get on 
 whichever way we go. Here we are, standing in the middle of the 
 road, and the moon is under a cloud." 
 
 Harry Worrel, who was in no very loquacious mood, as the reader 
 may well imagine, took the way in silence up the lane which led in the 
 opposite direction to tliat in which the cart had been driven. The 
 chevalier an(? Joey Pike followed, the one with his usual sedate 
 demeanour, the other with the graceful step of an antelope ; and thus 
 proceeding, they reached, in about ten minutes, a spot where, emerg- 
 ing from between the hedges, the road issued forth upon a wide furze- 
 covered common with marshy spots here and there, which occasionally 
 deviated into glistening pools. The clouds were scudding lightly 
 over the sky, like boys and girls at play on a wide waste ; while the 
 moon, exercising her usual power, was every now and then poking 
 through her round white face, like the usher popping in his head to see 
 what they were all about. 
 
 The road also, be it remarked, suddenly took a rise, as it issued forth 
 from the lane ; and when the head of the chevalier came above the 
 edge of the slope, he plainly saw, by the light of his native planet, the 
 broad figure of a somewhat sturdy and thickset man about a couple of 
 hundred yards in advance. He was standing quite still, and continued 
 to do so for a minute ; but then, it would appear, he caught a sight 
 of the approaching party, and — why, or wherefore, the chevalier did 
 not know — he beat a retreat with great celerity. As the ground was 
 uneven and Mr. Lunatico and his friends were themselves rather in a 
 fugitive than a pursuing humour, the gentleman soon disappeared. 
 
 After having gone half-a-mile along the sandy road of the common, 
 they came to a spot where it branched out into three, wdth a finger 
 post and a stone tablet bearing an inscription intended to cheer and 
 console the wayfarer on his journey, by telling him that a pedlar had 
 been murdered there ten years before, and that two sailors had been 
 hanged for the offence. 
 
 " I don't find it recorded," said the chevalier in an inquiring tone, 
 «' that the hanging of the sailors brought the pedlar to life again." 
 
BE LUNATICO INQUIEENDO. 73 
 
 <' No ; it certainly did not," replied Worrel. 
 
 " Then," answered the chevalier, " the less said about the nmatter the 
 better. Which of these roads do we take r" 
 
 " Neither," replied Worrel ; '• our best way will be across the 
 moor ;" and thus saying, he tiu*ned his steps into a small little-trodden 
 pathway, upon which he had scarcely advanced a quarter of a 
 mile when up started the same figure that the chevalier had before 
 seen, and once more made off as fast as possible, as if very much 
 frightened by their approach. 
 
 " 'Tis the shade of the pedlar," cried Joey Pike ; but the shade 
 soon disappeared once more, and they pursued their way without seeing 
 it again. After about a quarter of an hour's farther walking, they at 
 length reached the cottage of W^orrel's foster-mother, which, notwith- 
 standing his anticipations, still showed a light through the little lattice 
 window. 
 
 It was a lowly place in a lonely situation, with the thatched roof 
 just high enough to give room for a doorway through which a man 
 of moderate size could pass without stooping. There was a little 
 garden before it, however, kept apparently with much neatness, and 
 every thing indicated, that great care and pains had been taken to 
 render it both as comfortable and as pretty as the bonds of poverty 
 would permit. 
 
 " Why, good Nelly Bain is up, it would seem," said Worrel, looking 
 at the light. " I didn't know she kept such late hours — it must be 
 near one o'clock ;" so saying, he advanced, and, after knocking at the 
 door with his hand, lifted the latch and went in, followed closely by 
 the chevalier and Joey Pike. The moment he did so, a woman of 
 about forty-eight or forty-nine years of age, who must once have been 
 very pretty, and who, even still, bore a sufficient trace of beauty to 
 set at defiance the uglifying influence of a widow's cap and coarse 
 black gown, started up, with a look of alarm, and gazed towards 
 the door. 
 
 " It is only I, Nelly," said Worrel, " do not be afraid. I thought I 
 saw somebody come in just before us." 
 
 " Oh! it was only Tom Smalldram, sir," said the widow. "He has 
 been snaring rabbits on the common, and thought that some people 
 were after him for poaching ; so I let him go through the house and 
 out the back way. But I can't help being afraid, master Harry," she 
 continued, fixing an earnest gaze upon Worrel's countenance, " and 
 it's the sight of your face makes me so. What should you come here 
 for at this time of night, if it was not to tell me that something had 
 happened to him ?" 
 
 " Oh no, Nelly,'* replied Worrel, " I have nothing to tell you. 
 The truth is, I want you to give us shelter till to-morrow morning, 
 I have been unfortunate enough to shoot Mr. Fitzurse in a duel, and 
 the people are seeking to apprehend me.'* 
 
 "To shoot Mr. Fitzurse!" exclaimed Nelly Bain, clasping her 
 hands. " Good heaven, how strange !" 
 
 " It is strange," answered Worrel, "that my uncle should have had 
 
74' . THE COMMiSSIONEil ; o% 
 
 the same fate with liis father. But where is your son, Nelly ? where 
 is Will?" 
 
 " Ay, sir, that is what makes me uneas}^" said the widow. " Will 
 was never out so late as this in his life ; he went to get sea-fowl's 
 eggs. Master Harry, along the cliffs, and he has never come back, 
 though he set out at three o'clock. 
 
 " That is strange," said Worrel ; " but perhaps he has gone down 
 to the fire." As he uttered that word, the memory of all the horrible 
 circumstances connected with the burning of Mr. Longmore's liouse 
 seemed to rush back upon his brain with more terrible vividity than 
 ever. At first he had been stunned and crushed, as it were, by the 
 blow he had received ; and afterwards, all the particulars of his arrest 
 and escape, though they cannot be said to ha^e diverted his mind from 
 the gTief that possessed it, had yet confused and embarrassed his ideas ; 
 so that, as he walked along, all the incidents of the last four-and-twenty 
 hours — the duel, the death of his adversary, the blood brought upon 
 his own hand, the flight, the quarrel with Mr. Longmore, the fire, the 
 loss of poor Laura — had all been floating before his eyes together, a 
 mixed and seemingly inextricable crowd of images : but now, at the 
 word " the fire," as if by magic, every thing else disappeared, and the 
 death of her he loved better than all else on earth, stood forth alone 
 before his sight, the one dark, terrible spot, which shut out the prospect 
 of hope and happiness for ever. " The fire, the horrible fire !" he re- 
 peated, and down he sank on one of the wooden chairs, and covered 
 his eyes with his hand. 
 
 The chevalier was approaching to offer him consolation; but just 
 at that moment there was a sound of feet without, and people speaking 
 in low tones, and a smothered groan. Then came a tap at the door, 
 and a rough sailor-looking man, in an oil-skin hat, put in his head, 
 saying in a kindly tone, "Sorry to tell ye, Mrs. Bain, Will's had a bad fall." 
 
 " Where is he ? where is he ?" cried the widow, clasping her hands, 
 and rushing towards the door. 
 
 " Bad accident I am afraid, ma'am," said the fisherman, still stand- 
 ing in her way. " Nov/, don't fluster yourself: there's a good soul. 
 We'll bring him in. Wliere shall we lay him ?" 
 
 The widow put her hand to her heart, as if she could grasp it tight 
 to stop its beating. " There, there !" she said, pointing to a bed that 
 stood in a corner of the room. " Ah! my boy, my poor boy V 
 
 They brought him in lying in the sail of a boat, and a dreadful 
 sight it was to see ! He was a fine, tall young man, a little older than 
 Worrel himself, with good features and powerful limbs ; but his coun- 
 tenance was now deadly pale — a bloody handkerchief was bound round 
 his brow — one hand was grasping convulsively the edge of the sail — the 
 other lay by his side with that powerless lassitude which showed that 
 the arm was broken. The right leg and thigh bent in two places 
 where there was no joint : the eyes v/ere closed ; and the only thing 
 that told that life still lingered was, a convulsive groan and a tremu- 
 lous movement of the under jaw. The face, the hands, the clothes, 
 were dabbled all over with blood and dirt j and so great and terrible 
 
DE LUXATTCO inquihexdo. 75 
 
 was the change, the mother could scarcely recognise her son. They 
 laid him gently down upon the bed, and put a pillow under his head ; 
 and the widow, stealing forward with clasped hands, sank upon her 
 knees by his side, and gazed at his face. Every one was silent for a 
 minute : there was not a sound but the ticking of the wooden clock, and 
 the deep-drawn sigh of the wounded man. 
 
 The silence and the repose seemed to rouse him : he opened his 
 faint eyes, but they were dimmed with the shadow of death. He rolled 
 them languidly round, and strove to speak, it seemed. For a moment 
 there was no sound, but the next instant two or three words broke from 
 his lips, and told the secret of his greatest agony, even in that agonizing 
 hour. " Oh, my mother !" he said, "my mother!" 
 
 It was all he could utter ; and she bent down her head over his face, 
 and washed it with her tears. 
 
 " We found him lying mider a rock, sir," said the fisherman, ad- 
 dressing in a low tone Harry Worrel. " He must have tumbled from 
 the top of the cliif." 
 
 " Send somewhere immediately for a surgeon," said the chevalier in 
 his prompt manner. " Life is still in him, and recollection : the brain, 
 therefore, is safe. Get a horse, and bid the man gallop. No one can 
 tell that the fine tie between spirit and matter may not be reunited." 
 
 " If any one can splice them," said the fisherman in the same tone, 
 " it is Mr. Longshanks, the siu-geon in the village. I'll rim and fetch 
 him." 
 
 Harry Worrel had approached the bed, and seeing some clammy 
 froth round the dying man's lips, he got a cup of water, and moistened 
 them gently. The cool liquid refreshed him, and looking up in the 
 young gentleman's face, he gazed wistfully at it for a moment, then 
 turned his look to the widow and shut his eyes, murmuring once more, 
 " Oh my mother! my mother!" 
 
 Harry Worrel understood his feelings, for he knew that they Avere 
 very poor, and that William Bain had devoted the prime of his young 
 and healthy days to support his surviving parent, and make her wi- 
 dowed life pass happily. His foster-brother's words then went to his 
 heart, and that heart was a kind one. So, bending down his head, he 
 said, in a low but clear voice, " Fear not for your mother. Will ! While 
 I have a guinea in the world she shall share it." 
 
 A momentary light came into the young man's eyes : he looked up 
 and smiled. In another instant the light was extinguished, but the 
 smile rem.ained. His lips moved not, his eye became glassy. There 
 was a very slight shudder. Worrel looked eagerly in his face — the 
 smile was there still, but it hung on the lips of the dead. 
 
 The widow had buried her eyes upon her son's bosom, and saw 
 not the change that had taken place. No one was found to tell her ; 
 and it was only the solemn silence that at length roused lier with a suspi- 
 cion of the truth. She started up — she gazed upon his face — she sav/ 
 the truth : the last hope went out ; and, with a wild scream, she fell 
 fainting by tlie side of her child. 
 
 Ere many minutes had passed, quick steps were heard : the door was 
 
7G THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 thrown unceremoniously open, and in rushed a, personage in every way 
 peculiar. He was a tall, long-sided, lankey man, with much more 
 bone than muscle. He seemed to be about fifty-eight or fifty-nine 
 years of age, with his grey hair tied in a queue behind ; a face florid and 
 somewhat weather-beaten, a nose bearing evident symptoms of having 
 contended for half a century with the easterly wind, keen grey eyes, 
 under very rough eye brows, and a benignant expression about the 
 mouth, strongly opposed to the sharp and searching look of the upper 
 part of the face. On his head he wore a small cocked hat, tied on, to 
 keep it from blowing away, by a red silk handkerchief ; and the rest of 
 his dress consisted of a straight-cut, long-waisted black coat, a waist- 
 coat with large flaps, a very small pair of breeches, and silk stockings 
 completed by buckles at the knee and in the shoes. 
 
 " So the fool has fallen over the crag and broken his leg," he ex- 
 claimed in a rough tone, as he entered. " What the devil did he • 
 
 Ha ! How is this ?" he continued, suddenly changing his tone to one of 
 deep compassion, as he beheld the spectacle which that sad cottage 
 presented. " Eh ? dead ! Poor fellow ! poor fellow ! He was a good 
 son ! he was a good son ! He's gone to heaven ! he's gone to lieaven ! 
 Nelly Bain, I tell you your son's gone to heaven. What the devil are 
 you crying for ? May we all follow him right soon : so say I." 
 
 " She has fainted, my good friend," said Worrel. 
 
 " Fainted I" cried the surgeon, " fainted ! so much the better. That's 
 the way with women. D — n them I they get rid of half their sorrows 
 that way. Take her up and carry her down to my house. Tell the 
 housekeeper to put her quietly to bed, and sit with her. I'll come 
 down and bleed her presently. Gently, gently my men : don't put her 
 on the sail that is wet with her son's blood. Bring a mattrass out of 
 the other room, and you two, lubbers, carry her down as carefully as if 
 she were a cask of spirits. Don't try to rouse her up : the longer she 
 faints the better." 
 
 The men obeyed his orders implicitly, seeming to look to him with 
 a degree of respect which amounted to veneration — and if the truth 
 must be told he deserved it ; for never was there a kinder heart 
 covered with a more odd and whimsical veil. 
 
 " Ah, poor fellow !" he said, apostrophising the dead body, " Ah, 
 poor fellow ! you have gone a day too soon. Sad work this, sad work. 
 One never can get the fools that this world contains to be cautious. If 
 it were but the breaking of their own necks one wouldn't care ; but 
 they have no right to break necks that are useful to other people. 
 Poor fellow !" he continued, turning to the chevalier, who stood at the 
 head of the bed, and addressing to him as a stranger his little eulogy of 
 William Bain. " He was as good a young man, sir, as ever lived on 
 this side of heaven — as kind a heart, as quiet and yet as brave a spirit ; 
 a friend to all around him — his mother's support and only treasure, and 
 the love of a young heart that will soon be breaking. Poor fellow ! 
 he's gone, and it's all over, and may we all soon go after him, so say I.'* 
 
 There was a trickling drop in the good surgeon's small grey eye 
 which made him feel that if he went on any farther with the subject of 
 
DE LLNATICO INQUIRENDO. V7 
 
 William Bain he would make a fool of himself as he called it, and 
 tm-ning his look to Worrell, of whom he had taken no great notice 
 hitherto, he said, abruptly, " Ah, there's another bad job ! This is a 
 night of misfortunes." 
 
 " It is, indeed," replied Worrel, with a bitter sigh. 
 
 " And you must begin this pretty day's work, Harry Worrel," con- 
 tinued the surgeon, " by shooting a drunken foOl mIio deserved nothing 
 better or worse than to be dragged through a horsepond ! How could 
 you expect the day would end well, when you began it in such a manner ? 
 but never mind, the thing's done; and, as I suppose, you're running 
 away from justice, and want to keep out of a prison, you must come 
 down to my house, there's plenty of room to stow you away, and Joey 
 Pike, too, who, I suppose, is art and part in the business ; he always 
 has a finger in every fool's pie" 
 
 All this was delivered in a bullying sort of tone, as if the good doc- 
 tor had an especial commission to scold all the world ; but Worrel 
 knew him of old, and was well aware that underneath all his chiding 
 there was a deep regard for himself, Harry Worrel, and the tenderest 
 affection for the whole human race. He replied, however, " I cannot 
 think of leaving my friend the Chevalier de Lunatico, who is a stranger 
 in this country, and whom I have got into the same scrape with myself." 
 
 " Devil take him ! he was your second, I suppose. I hate seconds 
 worse than principals. However," he continued, turning to the cheva- 
 lier, and feeling that irresistible communicativeness coming over him 
 with which Mr. de Lunatico's presence always affected his companions, 
 " nevertheless I like your phiz, old gentleman ; so that if you will come 
 down with my friend Harry here I shall be glad to see you, and will 
 try to keep you all snug till the trial comes on.'* 
 
 The chevalier was in the act of making some little difficulty, and ex- 
 pressing a fear that they might crowd and incommode the good doctor, 
 but Mr. Longshanks cut him short at once, exclaiming, " Well, well, 
 come if you like it ; don't come if you don't. As to room, there's 
 plenty of room in my house ; as to convenience, I shall be very happy 
 to see ye. I never tell a lie, sir, for any man, and would not say I 
 wished you to come if I did not. I hate the filthy falsehoods of society ; 
 so now let us go." 
 
 He added a few words in low tones to the people around, in regard 
 to watching the body of the young sailor, caUing a coroner's inquest, 
 &c., and then led the way from the moor down towards the little vil- 
 lage, which stood at the distance of about a quarter of a mile from the 
 cottage. It consisted of, perhaps, fifty small houses, one moderate- 
 sized one, and one large mansion within its own grounds. The middle- 
 sized house was that of the vicar, the mansion belonged to our good 
 friend the doctor, who it must be said, had been for about ten years of 
 his life a surgeon in India, where he had amassed a large fortune by 
 happy accidents, and came home to spend it for the benefit of his fellow 
 creatures. As soon as he reached his house, and had ushered his guests 
 into a large and fine library, he left them to visit the poor widow and 
 give her help and consolation in liis own peculiar wa}'. 
 
'?$ THE commissioner; ok, 
 
 After conversing with the chevalier for a few minutes, and giving 
 him a little insight into the character of his host, Worrel, too, left him, 
 saying — " I am only fit to be alone, chevalier ; I will go and seek the 
 housekeeper and make her show me which is to be my room." 
 
 Joey Pike had by this time betaken himself to the kitchen, and the 
 chevaUer was left alone with the spirits of dead men in their books. 
 
 CHAPTER Xir. 
 
 fSOMB OF THE NOTIONS OF MR. LONGSHANKS — AN ILIiUSTKATlON OF FREE WILI4 
 AND PREDESTINATION. 
 
 The che^^alier was not long alone, for, v/hen excited, the proceedings of 
 worthy Mr. Longshanks were generally as abrupt and rapid as his speech, 
 and in about a quarter of an hour the creaking of his shoes — all slices 
 creak that have silver buckles in them — was heard indicating his approach 
 to the door of the library. As he entered, he shot a quick glance round 
 the room, as if his eyes were in search of Harry Worrel ; but not 
 finding him, he settled the whole matter in his own mind in a moment — - 
 for that said mind of his was a sword with a very quick and trenchant 
 blade, and, like that of the greatest man of oiu* own days, though it 
 did not always strike in the right direction, whichever way it did strike, 
 it was sure to go straight through. 
 
 " Ha !" he said, " Harry Worrel not here — gone to bed — best thing 
 he could do. Of all the medicines man ever invented, my dear sir, 
 there is not one worth a farthing, for mind and body, in comparison with 
 the single one that nature gave us — sleep. It has been a bad day, indeed, 
 a very bad day ; battles, murders, and sudden death, with the addition 
 of fire, make a pretty little slice out of the things we pray against. 
 However, let us throw off care for half an hour before we go to bed — I 
 never like to sleep upon the troubles of the day without an interval ; 
 one's intellectual stomach gets an indigestion. If I have a friend here, 
 I talk to him about matters totally indifferent ; if I am alone I take 
 up a book — it is exercise after supper." 
 
 " I see," said the chevalier in a leading tone, " that you are very fond 
 of moral philosophy ; at least if I may judge by the books I find round 
 me here." 
 
 " Yes, sir, yes," replied the surgeon, "it's a taste I got in India." 
 
 " Why I should think," said the chevalier, " from all I have heard of 
 the luxury and sensuality of those parts of this globe, that it would 
 not be exactly the place for acquiring a taste for mental recreations." 
 ^ . " For that very reason, for that very reason," replied Mr. Long- 
 
t>E LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 79 
 
 ehanks," "every thing there was material from morning to night. For 
 three years I had nothing but mangoes and muUagatawney soup, danc- 
 ing girls and boar spearing, cholera and cosmetics, ciu'ry and Hodson's 
 pale ale. I got sick of it, sir ; my soul was shut up in a box. I wrote 
 home for Hobbes and Voltaire, Descai'tes and Pascal, Reid and 
 Dugald Stewart, Condorcet and Hume, and laying them all down on 
 the table I left them to run their heads together. It was a sharp en- 
 counter, sir, as ever you saw ; but I found that if tiie materialists had 
 >the most wit, the spiritualists had the most sense. That brought me 
 a good way over ; but two things convinced me, which were, to find that 
 tlie spiritualists were humble while the materialists were conceited, and 
 that the former strove to be clear while the latter strove to be brilliant." 
 
 " Convinced you of what, may I ask ?" said the chevalier ; " a man of 
 your sense I am siu-e would not let your being convinced of the good- 
 ness of the men, convince you of the goodness of their reasoning ?" 
 
 " No, no ; certainly not," answered Mr. Longshanks, " but it con- 
 vinced me that the one set were seeking for trutli even if they did not 
 find it, and that the other were only seeking tlieir own vanity even if 
 they stumbled upon truth by chance. Now as I am much more likely 
 when I v.ant a fish to get it from a fisherman than a foxhunter, I was 
 convinced that the best way to find truth was, to follow those who were 
 really looking for it. Thus, sir, I went out to India, not an unbeliever 
 but a sceptic, and I came back a very profound believer in every thing 
 that man can know of things beyond his immediate senses." 
 ' " I am very happy to hear it, sir," said the chevalier, " for we, poor 
 people in the moon " 
 
 " Ho, ho ! sir,' cried Mr. Longshanks, you come from the moon, do 
 you? Sir, I am very happy to see you ; but you were going to say — " 
 
 " That we poor people in the moon," continued tlie chevalier, " know 
 something about those matters — we have schools for doubting, and in 
 the capital city of St. Luke there is an annual distribution of medals 
 and rewards for the greatest proficiency in scepticism. I myself had 
 the honour last year of awarding the great gold medal to a young man 
 w ho had arrived at the point of doubting whether his eyes were in the 
 back or the front of his head. He very ingeniously proved that to 
 those who were standing behind him his back was his front, and he de- 
 monstrated his ov/n state of doubt upon the subject by running a fork 
 into the back of liis neck, thinking that he was carrying a piece of 
 meat to his mouth." 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha !" cried Mr. Longshanks, " may I ask how the inferior 
 medals were distributed ?" 
 
 " Why I cannot remember all," said the chevalier, " but the small 
 gold medal was bestowed upon an old gentleman who wrote an essay 
 to show that there was a great probability of man having been origi- 
 nally a louse, produced spontaneously at first by the movement of 
 matter, and gradually brought, in the course of many thousand years, 
 to his present state by the agglomeration of atwns. For thirty years 
 he went on breeding monkeys, and regularly rubbing them down every 
 day with all sorts of animal atoms, in the hope that before he had done 
 
80 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 with them they would make a move towards mankind ; but alas ! they re- 
 main monkeys still — tliougli one raised his master into an ecstasy by eating 
 his own tail, and another grew scabby and all his hair came oft", which he 
 considered as clear approximations to humanity, and expected them soon 
 to speak. However, ere a week was over they ' died and made no sign.' " 
 
 " There were silver medals, too, doubtless," said Mr. Longshanks, 
 better disposed, perhaps, to hear more of the universities of the moon 
 than the reader may be. 
 
 " Oh, a great many," replied the chevalier, " and leaden ones like- 
 wise ; but the only essay that I at present recollect as having gained a 
 silver medal was won by a young man who contended that it was ma- 
 thematically impossible that there could be a God; for, said he, if 
 there were such a being as God he must have made all the worlds 
 square, not round, seeing that they would pack the better." 
 
 " I should think he deserved a gold medal," said Mr. Longshanks. 
 
 " No, no," cried the chevalier, " not according to our rules and re- 
 gulations. His was a positive proposition, and he had very nearly lost 
 the medal altogether from the want of a sufficient portion of scepticism. 
 If he had said that he doubted, &c. &c. he would have been better oft"." 
 
 " Pray," said the surgeon, " who is at the head of your sceptical 
 university ? He must be a well-known man of course ?" 
 
 " He's an old Greek," said the chevalier, " of the name of Pyrrho ; 
 but he is nearly past his work, and would be very inefficient if it Avere 
 not for a gentleman of great learning and activity of the name of 
 Bayle, who is sub-rector. Besides these, however, we have amongst 
 the professors one half of the writers you mentioned a few minutes ago, 
 and a great many others. A gentleman of the name of Berkeley 
 amongst the rest, who keeps the high school, and has convinced all the 
 boys that there is no such thing as either birch or bottom. They cry 
 manfully when they are flogged nevertheless." 
 
 " I thought so, I thought so," cried Mr. Longshanks ; " and so, I fear, 
 many others will cry when their theories are put to the proof in another 
 world. But I can assure you, my dear sir, we have many as great fools 
 here, many who deserve to be sent up to your planet for tricks not less 
 extravagant." 
 
 " I know it," answered the chevalier, " and between you and I that 
 is the cause of my coming. But pray let me hear a little how you got 
 over all the difficulties that beset one in the world of metaphysics ; 
 the doctrines of innate and abstract ideas, the beneficence of the deity 
 and existence of evil, God's foreknowledge and mans' freewill." 
 
 " A wide subject, my dear chevalier, a wide subject," replied the 
 surgeon, " and you and I would both be dozing if I were to attempt 
 to trace step by step the reasonings that convinced me. To prove 
 the excellence of my own process would be long, to prove the folly of 
 those of my opponents, however, is not so difficult. There are some 
 of them that are more philologists than philosophers, some that are 
 neither ore nor the other. The latter, not finding separate words to 
 express distinct things, use the same term with half-a-dozen diftierent 
 significations ; first puzzling themselves, and then puzzling their readers.- 
 
DE LUNATICO INQURENDO. 81 
 
 The former, when they don't find terms to express all the multifarious 
 objects of thought, deny the existence of those objects themselves, as if 
 facts depended upon languages. Thus, one man has denied that there 
 is such a thing as mind, because the Anglo-Saxon does not bear it out. 
 Another declares that to think is but to remember, because in the 
 meagre barbarism of early tongues, the two operations were compounded 
 together. 
 
 "As to fate and freewill," said the chevalier, " the foreknowledge 
 of God, and our responsibility for our own actions, of course you are 
 obliged to deal with such subjects in metaphysical inquiries ; but for 
 an ordinary man, methinks the best plan is, to establish as a first principle, 
 that his own comprehension is limited ; that God gives him to under- 
 stand what is good for him to know, but has fixed a boundary to the 
 powers of his mind as well as to the powers of his body ; and to rest 
 satisfied wherever he can prove the existence of a certain fact, even 
 without being able to show its compatibility with another." 
 
 ".Stay, stay," said Mr. Longshanks, "I'll show you fate and freewill 
 in a moment." 
 
 He rang the bell sharply, and a man-servant appeared with the least 
 possible loss of time. " Peter," said Mr. Longshanks, " there are 
 some nuts on the dining-room sideboard. Bring them here, and a 
 dry soup plate." 
 
 The servant disappeared, the soup plate, the nuts, and a pair of nut- 
 crackers were soon brought. Mr. Longshanks cracked one which 
 seemed to the chevalier to be a remarkably good nut indeed, but the 
 surgeon threw it impatiently under the grate. Another and another 
 succeeded, till at length he cracked one which was palpably rotten. 
 
 " This will do," said the moral philosopher, and carefully extracting 
 a large lively maggot from the interior, he laid it down in the centre 
 of the empty plate. Away wriggled the little white gentleman as hard 
 as he could go towards the side of the plate, apparently not liking his 
 new quarters at all, but whenever he came to the raised edge and lifted 
 himself up it, down he rolled again into the plain part below. The 
 chevalier and the surgeon looked down upon him as he made the 
 attempt half a dozen times, and at length bursting into a laugh, 
 Mr. Longshanks exclaimed, " There is man ! See how he exercises his 
 freewill, and see how fate brings it all to the same in the end. He 
 can turn which way he pleases, he can wander hither or thither without 
 any one asking him why he turns to the right or to the left ; but the 
 magic circle of circumstances is round him on every side, and no 
 effort can overcome the insurmountable barrier placed by the will of 
 God." 
 
 "A curious and excellent illustration surely," said the chevalier; 
 but Mr. Longshanks was not disposed to take the compliment as it was. 
 
 " Not at all, " he said, " not at all, if by the word curious you mean 
 extraordinary. Such illustrations of divine truths are placed before us 
 at every step, but we do not see them. From one thing we have a 
 lesson of His power; from another, of His wisdom ; from another, of His 
 mercy. Here we learn God's delight in the beautiful; a step farther, 
 c. — NO. m. G 
 
82 THE COMMISSIONEE ; OK, 
 
 we find the beautiful blending with the useful and good. As our 
 minds expand, we find that the beautiful itself, as well as the good, is 
 but the varied expression of God's infinite excellence; that there is one 
 universal harmony throughout the whole of nature, and that it but 
 wants the elevation of our soul, — in other words, for us, as the Gospel 
 teaches, to be perfect as God is perfect, in order to feel the mighty and 
 entrancing music of the whole universe. He has spread out before us 
 in his works, a book replete with every sort of wisdom, but man, blind 
 man, will not read the pages where he might find happiness as well as 
 virtue." 
 
 The chevalier mused. "Funny," he thought, " very funny, that a man 
 filled with such ideas should illustrate his doctrines by a maggot. I 
 can't help thinking he must be one of us." 
 
 Resolved, however, to take farther time to meditate over the matter, 
 ne expressed a sense of weariness and an inclination to retire to rest. 
 
 " I will lend you a nightcap," said the surgeon. 
 
 " I tha,nk you, sir," replied Mr. de Lunatico, " but I never use one : 
 I find it necessary to keep my head cool. But as my travelling port- 
 manteau is unfortunately left at Mr. Longmore's, I should be glad if 
 you would have the kindness to let one of the villagers fetch it early 
 to-morrow morning." 
 
 " Why, sir, do you not know that Ivy-Hall is burnt?" exclaimed the 
 surgeon. " I do not doubt in the least, that that old fool Longmore has 
 set the place on fire himself with some of his stupid inventions. But 
 at all events, you may look upon your portmanteau as a cinder^ — dust 
 and ashes, sir. Dust and ashes 'is all remains of thee, portmanteau ! 'tis 
 what thou art, and Avhat the proud shall be.'" 
 
 "I think not," replied the chevalier; "my portmanteau is fire-proof. 
 It is made of moon calf-skin, which is nearly as good for keeping out 
 light and heat as a tanned reviewer." 
 
 The chevalier's host stared, but Mr. de Lunatico nodded his head 
 in his peculiarly impressive maimer, saying, " Ay, sir, there are more 
 things between heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philoso- 
 phy," and Mr. Longshanks not having considered the matter well, made 
 no reply, but took up a candle, lighted it, and conducted the chevalier 
 to his room. 
 
PE LUNATICO INi^UlEENDO. 83 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 JOEY PIKE EATS AN IMPRUDENT SUPPER A NEW COMPARISON FOR SLEEP JOEYS 
 
 VISION ! HIS SOMNAMBULISTIC EXERCITATIONS AVHKRE HE AVENT TO, AND WHAT 
 
 HE DID THERE A DISCUSSION UPON THE CLOTHING OF ailOSTS THE WAN- 
 DERER'S RETURN. 
 
 It might be a curious case of casuistry to inquire whether it is more 
 difficult to drive three pigs or one ; for as every one who has tried the 
 adventure must know, Mhen you try to drive three pigs they will 
 go all manner of ways, and one, but too often, will go no way at all. 
 However that may be, the person who drives the three will soon find, 
 that he must keep continually running from one to the other in order 
 to get them on upon the same line ; and thus it is with the three 
 principal personages of this history, each of whom we are obliged to 
 follow, in order to whip him to a par with the others. Joey Pike is 
 the victim whom we must now undertake. Bred and brought up in 
 the neighbourhood, he was as well acquainted with the penetralia of 
 Mr. Longshank's house as any of the ofiiciating priests, and plunging 
 at once into the servants' hall, he was received with that profound 
 respect which his character and acquirements deserved. We cannot 
 pause to describe the infinite variety of attitudes in which he saluted 
 the cook, received the courteous welcomings of the housemaid, noticed 
 the kitchenmaid, bowed to the lackey ; suffice it to say, that in each 
 was grace indescribable, and in each the degree of condescension and 
 familiarity was proportioned to the state and station of the person 
 addressed. Neither can we pause in this place to repeat his sayings, 
 culled from all the languages, which, like a rich hot-house, supplied 
 the various exotic flowers of rhetoric to ornament his profuse eloquence., 
 While the cook was thunderstruck with a volley of Italian, and the 
 housemaid overwhelmed by a tender allusion in French, he even 
 knocked down the groom with a mouthful of hard-dried German, 
 and overawed the footman with a rotund phrase of Spanish picked 
 up at Gibraltar. We must despatch the period of his stay in the 
 lower regions as quickly as possible, nor even tell what were the 
 accompaniments to a large griskin of roast pork which came hissing 
 in for the servants' supper. 
 
 " Ha !" cried Joey, as soon as he beheld it, placing a chair for the 
 cook with the dignified submissiveness of a lord chamberlain, and 
 regarding with a sweet complaisant smile the brown expanse of crack- 
 ling. " Ha ! here is what my Portuguese friends call a ros-heefey de 
 porco; and a most eocquis supper it is before one lays one's head down 
 upon one's orrily^r" 
 
84 THE COMMISSIONEU; OR, 
 
 *' They may call it what they like," said the groom, in a grumbling 
 tone, " but I wish it had been a little more ros-heefeyed while they 
 were about it." 
 
 As the groom said, so it proved, the pork was somewhat under- 
 done, but in every other respect it was very good. Joey was power- 
 fully hungry, and before he retired to rest for the night, certainly not 
 less than a pound and a quarter of the savoury griskin had disappeared, 
 under his own individual efforts. 
 
 Sleep, dear reader, has been compared to many things, and doubt- 
 less you think that all comparisons are exhausted. As this book, how- 
 ever, is altogether new — new in its character and object, conduct and 
 circumstances — we must also have a new comparison for the drowsy 
 dame. Sleep is like Timotheus ! — How ? where ? when ? in what manner ? 
 in which respect ? under what aspect ? in what point ? and to what 
 degree ? How can sleep be like a fiddler ? Why, ladies and gentlemen, 
 the great musician, as the very first step after taking any disciples 
 under his care and guidance, taught them to forget all they knew ; and 
 thus is sleep like Timotheus. And the very same lesson did she 
 practise upon our dear friend, Joey Pike, as soon as his head had 
 touched the pillow, sweeping away French and Italian, German and 
 Spanish, and a great many other cobwebs, with the broom of forget- 
 fulness, and leaving him there without thought, and well nigh with- 
 out feeling, ready for her to play any vagary with that she might 
 think fit. Joey, to say the truth, would have had no objection to this 
 proceeding on the part of the goddess with the leaden mace, if she had 
 but thought fit to stop there, leaving him in calm oblivion, like the 
 fat weed on Lethe's shore, that the poet talks of. But Joey had 
 eaten a pound and a quarter of pork : the pork was underdone, and 
 Joey's dreams were troublous in no ordinary degree. Joey Pike had the 
 nightmare then, but as all his fancies were peculiar, his nightmares 
 were peculiar also. At first he thought that he was in a room 
 with an immense goose pie perched upon a high table, and well pleased 
 was he with the company of the sapient fowl, especially in its peculiar 
 condition at that moment. He thought of livers and gizzards, and 
 jellied sauce full of pepper. He contemplated with pleasure the image 
 of a goose's head formed of crust, which surmounted the whole dish, 
 and he seemed to snuff the odour, though it was through the olfactories 
 of imagination. Gradually, however, the goose pie increased in 
 volume ; the crusty image nodded vast and large as the helmet of 
 Otranto, the rim of the dish became imminent, each nick in the paste 
 grew colossal, the brown stains on the porcelain seemed magnified by 
 a gas microscope, the table was crushed under its weight, the room 
 grew too narrow to hold it ; larger and larger, vaster and more vast, 
 this ambitious pie, bent upon its own personal aggrandizement like 
 Napoleon Bonaparte, swallowed up all minor things around, till poor 
 Joey Pike, in mortal terror, saw it bulging out towards him, and 
 looked round, but looked round in vain for door or window by which 
 to make his escape. Between him and the entrance extended the vast 
 pie, and nothing but a faint glimmering of light from the window 
 
DE LUNATICO IKQUIREKDO. 85 
 
 could be seen over the crust as it towered towards the ceiling. He 
 shrunk back against the wall, he rushed into the corner, but still the 
 terrible pie increased, approaching him inch by inch, and possessing 
 within itself the powers of infinite expansion. It came nearer and 
 nearer — he felt it touching against his nose, pressing against his 
 stomach, treading upon his toes ; till mortal nature would bear no 
 more, and with a loud groan he woke. 
 
 For a minute or two he lay actually shaking, and exclaiming 
 " Corpo de Bacco !" which the reader will admit was a very appro- 
 priate ejaculation. A little reflection, however, calmed him completely, 
 and as he recollected all the particulars of his dream, he determined 
 to write it down and send it to Blackwood s Magazine, He spent a 
 few minutes in arranging it into a regular narrative ; but composing 
 books in the dark is a drowsy occupation, and ere he had turned many 
 periods Joey was asleep again. His pork, however, was not so 
 quiescent, and remained as firm and as heavy as ever upon his stomach. 
 But this time it produced a different effect : after lying for about half 
 an hour in what seemed a deep strong sleep, Joey Pike moved a leg 
 and an arm, then raised himself and got up. Pray, reader, remark, I 
 say he got up, I don't say he woke. Without bestowing the necessary 
 pains upon his apparel he made his way straight to the door, and 
 
 " Seemed to find his way without his eyes, 
 For out of doors he went without their help." 
 
 That is to say, in plain prose, he opened the door of his room, de- 
 scended the staircase, unchained, unlocked, unbolted the door of the 
 house, and walked quietly out upon the neat gravel walk, being all 
 this time in a state much nearer approaching to nudity than was at all 
 convenient or respectable. Had any of the members of the society for 
 the suppression of vice met him in that state, poor Joey would have been 
 very likely to have, what a thief with whom I have the honour of being 
 acquainted calls, a month's walk round a rolling-pin ; by which I take 
 it he means a month at the tread-mill. Joey, however, was fortunate: 
 first, in being sound asleep all the time, and thus being imconscious of 
 the predicament in which he placed himself; and secondly, in not 
 meeting a single soul as he walked quietly up towards the moor. The 
 world, however, was unfortunate ; for certainly it would have been a 
 glorious sight to see our good friend Joey advancing upon tiptoes, with 
 all the graces of an Apollo in a cutty sark, throwing himself into all 
 manner of attitudes, and doubtless all the while thinking himself, in the 
 innermost parts of his sleeping soul, fit for a model for any statuary. 
 The world in general, however, was denied the treat ; and it was re- 
 served for one who neither deserved, appreciated, nor understood it. 
 
 On walked Joey quietly till he reached the cottage of poor widow 
 Bain. What it was impelled him heaven only knows : he might be 
 brought there by some reminiscence of the events of the night troubling 
 the quiet march of sleep; he might be led by the hand of his good 
 genius for his own salvation, for great and important were the results 
 of that walk to our friend Joey Pike. 
 
86 THE commissioner; oh, 
 
 Without the slightest pause or hesitation he approached, as I have 
 said, the door, put his hand upon the latch, opened, and went in. There 
 was a liglit within, and, moreover, an old woman, left to watch the dead 
 body, according to the directions which had been given by Mr. Long- 
 shanks. Like most other watchers, she was sound aslet^p ; and had Joey 
 Pike come thither with the intention of snatching the body, or any thing 
 else, he would have had no difficulty in accomplishing his purpose. As 
 we ha\ie shown, however, poor Joey was asleep too ; but now a change 
 came over him. Whether it was that his sleep came to its predestined 
 conclusion, or that the rays of light, suddenly striking upon the door of 
 the retina gained admission into the house and woke the tenant, who 
 shall say ? Suddenly, Joey Pike was roused from his sleep, and, like 
 our wicked first parents in Paradise, knew that he was naked. He gazed 
 round him for an instant in wonder and astonishment, not forgetting, 
 even in that moment of surprise, the graces with which nature had so 
 plentifully endowed him. Of him at that moment it might well be said : 
 
 " So stands the statue that enchants the world." 
 
 There he was, however, in the middle of the cottage-floor with 
 nothing upon him but his shirt! There could be no doubt of the fact, 
 although in other respects he had some doubts of his existence alto- 
 gether. A few moments' reflection brought various forgotten matters 
 back to his mind. " Diantre r cried Joey, " I have been walking in my 
 sleep again ! I am /a Somnambiila ! — I had better get out of this, however, 
 sang delay, for the old woman is as sound as a roach. Quelbonhoorr 
 
 Thus saying, and on tiptoes, Joey reapproached the door, which, for 
 some reason to himself unknown, he had carefully shut. Lifting the 
 latch without the slightest noise, he drew back the door in the same 
 silent manner, and was issuing out once more in the open air, with the 
 view of making the best of his way back to the house of Mr. Long- 
 shanks, when suddenly, with direful consternation, he beheld standing 
 close to the cottage, and raising his right hand towards the thatch, the 
 junction between which and the wall could be very well reached, the 
 figure of a stout, broadset man. If Joey Pike was confounded and 
 alarmed, the stranger was ten times more so. 
 
 What he came there for matters not at present, but having heard of 
 the death of the widow's son, the only conclusion he could come to, on 
 seeing a naked figure with a scanty shirt issue silently, and even noise- 
 lessly, forth from the cottage, was, that he beheld William Bain's ghost. 
 I say naturally, because, had we time and space to discuss the question, 
 I would undertake to prove to the very most ghost-learned of all my 
 readers that a scanty shirt, such as Joey Pike had on at that moment, 
 is much more appropriate, and to be expected in a ghost, than the long 
 white garments with which we generally invest them; ay, and the 
 scantier the better. There's both religion and philosophy in it, sir; 
 for while philosophy asks why the deuce a ghost should wrap itself up 
 in a winding-sheet, religion says, that as we brought nothing into the 
 world with us, so shall we take nothing out with us — no, not even so 
 much as a silk pocket handkerchief; and therefore, as I have said^. 
 
r^. 
 

DE LUNATICO INQUIUENDO.' S7 
 
 the less clothes a ghost has on the better. The gentleman whom 
 Joey encountered, however, stopped neither to inquire nor to argue, 
 but took to his heels at once, and ran as if all the bulls in the parish 
 were after him. Joey, for his part, stood quite still in bewildered 
 uncertainty : at first proposing to retreat into the cottage ; but the 
 next moment, like a great general as he was, taking advantage of the 
 miexpected panic of his adversary, he advanced, and pushing on, 
 gained Mr. Longshank's house, carefully sliut the door, felt his way 
 up stairs, and entered the garret which had been assigned him as a 
 place of repose. There he crept under tlie bed-clothes, and being, 
 as the reader knows, a philosopher, he set at work at once to do what 
 every man should do, and inquire into the secret ckuses of his own 
 proceedings. A certain weiglit upon his chest taught him at once to 
 unravel the heart of the mystery, and laying his hand upon his stomach, 
 he sighed forth " Quel porco /" 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE CHKVALIF.R RF.COVF.RS UIS POUTMANTEAU MR, LOVOMORH LIKE A GREAT 
 
 STATESMAN DEVOTRS HIS OPINIONS THE CHARITY OF OUR DEAR FRIENDS . 
 
 JOEY PIKE CUTS AN UNPLEASANT ACQUAINTANCE — FINDS A FRIEND IN NEED 
 AND MAKES lUS APPEARANCE ON THE STAGE. 
 
 The portmanteau of the chevalier arrived at the house of Mr. Long 
 shanks towards the hour of eight in the morning, and although Mr. 
 de Lunatico was far more thoroughly convinced of its lire-resisting 
 properties than any of tlie innumerable patentees of tliose fire-proof 
 safes and boxes in which valuable title-deeds and other papers are 
 annually burnt to very excellent tinder, it was a very great relief to his 
 mind to see it in such a high stale of preservation. On cross questioning 
 the bulky peasant who carried it up to his room, lie found that labourers 
 had been engaged during the whole morning, from the first dawn of 
 light, in digging amongst the ruins " for the bodies." 
 
 " For the bodies !" exclaimed the chevalier ; " I thought there was 
 but one who had perished. On my word," he continued, muttering to 
 himself, " I think I shall summons the whole nation for building them- 
 selves houses of all the most inflammable substances they can find, 
 when they have plenty of stone and plenty of iron, if they choose to 
 make use of it. Pray, my good friend, with all their digging, what 
 have they found besides my portmanteau ?" 
 
 " Lawk-a-daisy, sir !" replied the man ; *' find ? Why they've found 
 a couple of dead cats, and lots of roasted rats, and the skin of a long 
 
88 THE COMMISSIONED ; OE, 
 
 beast that tliey call an alligation, and pots enough to set up a china- 
 shop, and " 
 
 " Why I should have thought all such things must be destroyed," 
 cried the chevalier, " in such a fire as that." 
 
 " Ay, and so they would too, sir," replied the man ; " but you see, 
 when the west wall fell out, the roof tumbled in ; that is to say, it 
 didn't exactly tumble, but it slipped down whole enough, one side 
 coming down with a rattle, but the other hitching upon the beams of 
 one of the bed-rooms so as to lie slanting, like — for all the world like 
 the penthouse of a cobbler's shop, and underneath that there was a lot 
 of all kinds of rubbish, and this here portmanteau amongst the rest." 
 
 " Rubbish !" said the chevalier, thinking of his invaluable stock — his 
 credentials and all the rest. " But, tell me^ have, they found the body 
 of the young lady — poor thing ?" and his voice shook a little as he 
 spoke, perhaps from a slight cold which he had caught in all his pere- 
 grinations of the preceding day. 
 
 " No," replied the peasant ; " not a body did they find, for every 
 thing that wasn't under that part of the roof was burnt to a cinder." 
 
 Mr. de Lunatico questioned his companion no farther, but gave him 
 a piece of silver for his pains, and being, as we have shown upon more 
 than one occasion, of a tender and compassionate disposition, he deter- 
 mined forthwith to visit Mr. Longmore, and endeavour to console him 
 for the terrible loss he had sustained. On seeking for Worrel, in order 
 to inquire after his health, he found that his young friend was already up 
 and out, and after having breakfasted with Mr. Longshanks with whom 
 he held a short but very interesting conversation, which I cannot pause 
 to repeat, he issued forth on foot with Joey Pike as his guide. The 
 latter indeed went with fear and trembling, but having explained to 
 his indulgent lord what he termed his spavento, with the deprecatory 
 declaration that, if it was his will, he would go with him to death, the 
 chevalier reassured him by saying that he would only take him to the 
 top of the hill over which he had enjoyed such a pleasant walk with 
 Worrel and poor Laura Longmore. 
 
 As soon as the chevalier saw his way clear before him he dismissed 
 his conductor, and after various inquiries in regard to Mr. Longmore' s 
 present place of sojourn, he was in the space of about a quarter of an 
 hour seated comfortably in an arm-chair in the King's Head inn, to 
 which the old philosopher had betaken himself. Poor Mr. Longmore 
 was a very changed and chapfallen man since the period when the 
 chevalier had first beheld him in the pride of health, prosperity, and 
 astronomical instruments. He was now left alone, not " with his glory" 
 but with a pair of black silk breeches, and instead of having his " martial 
 cloak around him" he had nothing to wrap himself in but a sha^d 
 dressing-gown. His hair was unpowdered, his pigtail was crooked 
 and partly singed, and his bald crown had lost the lustre with which it 
 used to shine and looked dull and depressed. Well pleased was he, 
 however, to see the chevalier, and pressed his hand tenderly with tears 
 in his eyes. 
 • « Ah, my dear friend !" he said, " ah, my dear friend, this is a ter- 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRES DO. 89 
 
 rible affair, and it will shorten my life by at least fifty years. It is 
 such things as theae that bring mortality into the world : otherwise 
 there is no reason why man with proper precaution might not live for 
 ^ver. My beautiful instruments are all gone, and my daughter, my 
 dear child, the light and solace of my life, she is lost also !" 
 
 " There is matter of comfort in all things, my good sir,'* said the 
 chevalier ; " and although it may be a painful consolation, yet you 
 should remember all the pains and inconveniences which might have 
 occurred to you had your daughter lived. It was quite evident to me 
 that she had made up her mind to marry her cousin Worrel, and -" 
 
 " She might have married any one that she liked," cried the old 
 gentleman impatiently. " What a straw in the balance ! to talk of her 
 marrying this man or that, when she is dead — burnt to death — lost to 
 me for ever !" 
 
 " Why," exclaimed the chevalier in considerable astonishment, " I 
 have heard you declare that you would rather see her dead a thousand 
 times than marry any one else but Henry Frederick Augustus 
 Fitzurse !" 
 
 " Nonsense, nonsense !" cried Mr. Longmore ; " every body talks in 
 that way, but it means nothing. No man in this world ever says what 
 he means, my good chevalier, especially to a daughter about her mar- 
 riage. We of course try to drive her into the arms of the man we 
 like best ; but if she flies into the arms of him she likes best herself, 
 why we can't help it you know. Fathers' curses, and all that, unless 
 with great fools or great blackguards, do not hold out very long 
 against entreaties and repentance." 
 
 " Or is it," said the chevalier, in a peculiarly solemn manner, " that 
 we ill-treat the living and then regret the dead; that we fancy we 
 should have relented when the time for gentleness is past, but that we 
 should in reality have been as harsh as ever if the opportunity had been 
 afforded us? God, very often, Mr. Longmore, interposes between 
 ourselves and our rash purposes, and we believe we should not 
 have executed them only when he has taken from us the power of 
 doing so." 
 
 " I declare, so help me heaven," cried Mr. Longmore with the tears 
 in his eyes, " that if my poor daughter were in life she should marry 
 whomsoever she pleased, were it a chimney-sweep out of the street ! 
 I should not have been so hard as you think, my friend, I should not 
 indeed." 
 
 " Well," said the chevalier, " I must not press a suffering man, Mr. 
 Longmore, but pray recollect for the future not to make rash denun- 
 ciations lest heaven take you at your word. But now to other matters, 
 it is my intention to go to the capital of this great country, and I think 
 that it might do you good too, Mr. Longmore, if you could accompany 
 me. New objects and new pursuits are like a group of children that I 
 saw just now tugging an old man from his seat. They withdraw the 
 mind kindly but forcibly, from the things it rests on." 
 
 " No, my dear sir, no !" said Mr. Longmore, " I can't go to London 
 just at present. It's a filthy hole, sir, London : a place where one 
 
90 The coMMtssio:S'EE ; on, 
 
 rogue has set down his house next to another, for the better opportu- 
 nity of cheating him ; a wilderness of brick and mortar as some one 
 has called it ; a solitude of human beings ; a hive of wasps not bees, 
 wliere every one has a sting and no honey. It is a foul place, sir, df 
 foul place, witli such a stench and steam of human vice rising up from 
 it incessantly day and night that they could not find a spot in the 
 whole place to plant an observatory in, and so they were obliged to 
 fix it at Greenwich. However, my dear friend, I know a number of 
 people there, and as you wish to see all classes of the community, I 
 will take care that you have the opportunity. In the course of the 
 afternoon I shall write you letters to a number of different people in 
 the capital. You shall have them to physicians, surgeons, apothe- 
 caries, attorneys, barristers, judges, tradesmen, merchants, aldermen 
 candidates, members of parliament, statesmen, clerks, councillors, 
 ministers : you shall have a letter to the Lord Mayor of London and 
 the first Lord of the Treasury, and I will write in such terms to all 
 that they shall give you as much information as possible." 
 
 " I will take care of that," said the chevalier, in a manner which Mr. 
 Longmore thought somewhat conceited, though, as the reader well 
 knows, the foundation of his self-sufficiency lay in his portmanteau ; 
 and after having repeated his thanks to Mr. Longmore, and suggested a 
 few little topics of consolation in his own peculiar manner, the chevalier 
 made his bow and retired, still unable to make up his mind as to 
 whether the first friend he had made on earth was really qualified for a 
 billet to the moon or not. 
 
 Taking his way back towards the house of Mr. Longshanks, our 
 worthy friend was led by curiosity to pass by the ruins of Ivy Hall. A 
 fine dry gravelly road led up from the little town to the ci-devant dwelling 
 of the old philosopher, and the chevalier for the first time enjoyed the 
 spectacle of a really English promenade; for, as may be well supposed 
 by any one who knows the true character of the people, the news of 
 the burning of Mr. Longmore's house, enhanced as it was by the report 
 of his daughter having perished in the flames, spread universal hilarity 
 and satisfaction amongst the inhabitants of the little town. There had 
 not been such a thing as a fire in the neighbourhood for half a century, 
 and, with the exception of a murder or two, a few cases of burglary, a 
 brewer being boiled in one of the coppers, a Swiss giantess. Womb- 
 well's menagerie, and a troop of equestrians, the good towns-people had 
 not had any thing to amuse themselves with, and to wonder at, for many 
 a long year. All the ladies in the town felt actually obliged to Mr. 
 Longmore for setting his house on fire ; and there they went along the 
 road, in groups of twos, threes, and fours, dressed in all the finery they 
 could get up for the occasion, and either laughing, talking, or looking 
 solemn, according to the peculiar sort of affectation of each. Some of 
 the light-hearted were joking with each other gaily, finding nothing in 
 the whole business but an excuse for a holiday ; others were conversing 
 gravely over the events of the fire, and with all the uncharitableness of 
 self importance were expressing serious doubts as to whether it would 
 liot prove a case of arson. One man said that he knew the house and 
 
DE LUNATICO TNQUIRENDO. 91 
 
 all that it contained to be insured to at least double its value (it was 
 not insured at all) ; another rejoined that old Longmore was said to be 
 rich, but he always entertained many doubts of the fact. He had heard 
 it whispered, too, that his property was as deeply mortgaged as it coukl 
 bear. Another said it was no wonder, when one considered the mint of 
 money that he had spent upon fooleries of all kinds — observatories, and 
 telescopes, and granite colunms, and transit instruments, and the Lord 
 knows what besides. But just at that moment a fourth stepped up to 
 the party who had been enjoying this pleasant discussion, and informed 
 them in a low tone that he had just heard that a commission was about 
 to be issued, to inquire into the sanity of Mr. Longmore. He had no 
 doubt, he added, that a statute of lunacy would be the result. 
 
 " Ho, ho !'' said the chevalier, who happened to be near ; " this is 
 something in my way ;" and approaching with his usual easy and un- 
 constrained air, he joined the party, and made one in the conversation, 
 without exciting the slightest wonder at his addressing them, although 
 a stranger. 
 
 " Pray, sir," he said, addressing the first, " may I ask what makes you 
 think that Mr. Longmore' s house and its contents were insiu*ed for 
 more than the value?" 
 
 The other laughed, and under the influence of the chevalier's peculiar 
 powers, drew him aside, saying, " I don't really know any thing about 
 the matter,[^but I take it for granted the house is insured ; and, in that 
 case, old Longmore's too sharp a fellow not to put the insurance at the 
 highest sum he can get." 
 
 The chevalier then turned to another, who had hinted at Longmore's 
 poverty, and had insinuated a mortgage — " Pray, sir, may I ask," he 
 said, " what it is that makes you doubt Mr. Longmore's wealth?" 
 
 " Why," cried the gentleman, likewise drawing him aside that the 
 rest might not hear, " the truth is, he lent me fifty pounds three or four 
 months ago, and did not take an acknowledgment. Now, you know a 
 man of that kind can't be rich long." 
 
 The chevalier discovered in the same manner that the personage who 
 did not wonder that Mr. Longmore was reported to be impoverished, on 
 account of the foolish way in which he spent his money, was a lawyer 
 in a tolerable way of business, who, having a wife and family, kept a 
 faithless little strumpet in a back street of the town, played whist at 
 guinea points, and had two or three natural children besides. The gentle- 
 man who was so bent upon a commission of lunacy had a hereditary taint 
 of insanity in his family, and every two or three years established his legi- 
 timate descent from mad ancestors in the most unequivocal manner. A 
 very short conversation with him justified Mr. de Lunatico in presenting 
 him with a billet for the moon; and then turning to the others, he 
 said, " I believe in common fairness, gentlemen, I ought to give you the 
 same invitation ; for I think that you all admit that whatever may be 
 his eccentricities, Mr. Longmore is an excellent and amiable man, 
 whose whole conduct towards his neighbours ought to conciliate the 
 regard and affection of all rational men, and yet you evidently show 
 that you entertain towards him feelings exactly the reverse of those. 
 
92 THE commissioner; 01?, 
 
 which his conduct ought to inspire in reasonable beings, which can 
 hardly proceed from any thing but a lunatic tendency in your minds. 
 I have therefore many doubts whether I ought not to consider you as 
 subjects of the moon, and summons you accordingly." 
 
 "If you do that," replied one, " you may summon the whole world ; for 
 a great philosopher has said that we always find some cause for satisfac- 
 tion in the misfortunes of our best friends, a maxim you may see 
 exemplified every day." 
 
 " The gentleman you speak of," said the chevalier, " has been up in 
 our sphere a long time. He was considered as a wit, I find, down here ; 
 but we have put him into the incurable ward of the hospitals for soi- 
 disant philosophers — a term used amongst us to signify a particular 
 species of troublesome idiot. I do not know what you call them down 
 here below." 
 
 " The same, the same," said the last speaker. " The two languages 
 seem to be very much alike." 
 
 The chevalier then turned to a group of ladies who, with green and 
 lilac ribands, a great deal of lace and other finery, were wending their 
 way up towards the scene of the fire, enjoying to their hearts' content 
 the malice of pity. Poor little Laura Longmore was the great object 
 of their attack. One declared that she could cry to think of the poor 
 girl being cut off in the midst of her vanity and folly. Another said 
 that perhaps, after all, it was as well for her ; for there was no doubt 
 she was going to marry Mr. Fitzurse, while she was in love with 
 Mr. Worrel, and all the world knew what would come of that. 
 Another cried, " marry Mr. Fitzurse, indeed ! No chance of that : 
 Mr. Fitzurse was not a marrying man. All that he wanted was, 
 to play the fool with the girl. If he liad married, he would have 
 married somebody in a better station of life, not such an upstart chit 
 as that. What she wondered at was that Mr. Longmore could be such 
 an ass as to suffer it. She was very sorry for her, indeed, poor thing; 
 and considered it a horrible death to be burnt alive ; but after all, if 
 Laura had lived, nothing could have come of it but an action for breach 
 of promise of marriage — and perhaps a baby." It was a young un- 
 married lady of forty-three, and rather thin, who spoke. 
 
 I have said that the chevalier was approaching this party, but he 
 never executed his intention of taking part in their conversation. The 
 chevalier needs no defence; for every man has a right to change his mind 
 each five minutes ; indeed, he has seldom any right to keep it. Although 
 resolution is a good thing in its way, yet any one who sees 
 
 **How chances mock, 
 And changes fill the cup of alteration 
 With divers liquors," 
 
 must be convinced that a man's purposes, even if they are formed 
 upon good motives at first, which is very seldom the case, must change 
 with changing circumstances. The cause of the chevalier's abandoning 
 his intention was twofold. First, a stage coach was coming up pulled 
 
I>E LUNATICO inquirendo. 93 
 
 along by four bright thoroughbred, cat-like bays, which whirled it for- 
 ward as if it had been drawn by a string of tigers, and most assuredly 
 it would have knocked our respectable friend down, and ran over him, 
 if he had attempted to take the direction which he had at first proposed. 
 In the second place, there was a sudden hubbub amongst the string of 
 people going up to see the ruins of Mr. Longmore's house which at- 
 tracted Mr. de Lunatico's attention, and in which he soon found him- 
 self concerned. The first thing he saw was a great movement 
 amongst the people at the top of the hill ; and the next moment, he 
 beheld Joey Pike with the agility of a deer threading the mazes of the 
 people on his bounding tiptoes, and approaching with a rapidity which 
 could proceed from nothing but fear. Even when hurled along, 
 however, like an arrow from a bow, Joey's distinctive grace and polite- 
 ness did not abandon him. He twisted round each fat dowager ; he 
 darted about to avoid running against each pretty lady ; if he touched a 
 furbelow or discomposed a sleeve, he exclaimed in the sweetest tone 
 possible, ^'' Scuzy-y^ and if he trod upon a toe, he laid his hand upon 
 his heart and sighed forth, " PardongT 
 
 In the meanwile, distanced by about fifty yards, came rolling down 
 a fat heavy -looking man, with a face like one of the large masks at the 
 door of a masquerade warehouse, with a low-crowned, flat-brimmed hat, 
 and with a yellow waistcoat bisected by an immense row of brass buttons, 
 covering the fair rotundity of his justice-like stomach. Panting, 
 pufl^ing, blowing, "larding the lean earth as he went along," he gave chase 
 to Joey Pike, running against every body, begging pardon of nobody, 
 and endeavouring to shout forth "stop him, stop him," but frustrated in 
 his efforts so to do, by a certain inopportune hoarseness, which rendered 
 the sound produced as inarticulate as the whistling of the wind through 
 a keyhole. 
 
 For once, grace and politeness met their due"reward — every one made 
 way for Joey, nobody budged a step for his pursuer ; and indeed, fierce 
 and angry were the glances shot at him as he jostled the world while 
 
 he passed along. One gentleman d d him, another cursed him, 
 
 and another raised his stick to knock him down, while a little boy, 
 whom he thrust forcibly out of his way, applied in the most classical 
 manner possible, as is proved by Pompeii, the tip of the thumb on his 
 left hand to the apex of his nose, and, extending the fourth finger, con- 
 nected the point thereof with the thumb of the right, whereat the fat 
 man was wroth, and shook his fist. 
 
 As soon as Joey saw the chevalier he dropped on one knee before 
 him, threw back his graceful head and extended his right hand, evi- 
 dently with the view of addressing to him some supplication ; but just 
 at that instant, his eyes lighted on the stage coach, and he saw an old 
 friend from the village of Outrun on the box, in the person of the 
 coachman. That gentleman also saw him and his distress ; he gathered 
 up his tits in a moment, bringing by a magical process, their heads in 
 and their haunches out, and with a sudden jerk of his thumb over his 
 left shoulder, he indicated to the fugitive the proceeding he was to 
 adopt. In an instant, Joey was on his feet again, and in another 
 
§4 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 instant, on the top of the coach. Crack went the whip, out went the 
 sixteen legs of the horses, like those of a great spider darting at a fly, 
 round went the wheels, and on went the coach. The fat man shook 
 both his fists, flashed fire from both his eyes, and whistled out, " stop, 
 stop," adding, when he found himself not attended to, some impreca- 
 tions of a character not very chaste nor very reverent. The coachman 
 whirled his whip gracefully round his head, and suddenly the lash found 
 its way round to the posteriors of his interpellator, while at the same 
 time, the Jehu screwing up his eye into the smallest possible space 
 demanded in a sweet tone, " who are you ;" and also inquired of the 
 gentleman whether his mother knew he was out, but without waiting 
 for a reply to either questionsj^and galloping his horses up the hill as 
 fast as they could go. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 arilE SHORTEST CHAPTER IN THE BOOK THE ONE THAT LOVED HIM- 
 
 SCENE or A TRAGEDY. 
 
 *' The shadows dance upon the wall 
 
 By the still dancing fire-flame made ; 
 And now they slmnber, moveless all ! 
 And now they melt to one deep shade !" 
 
 The poet's description was very applicable to a certain room in Outrun 
 Castle on the morning which witnessed the duel between Harry Worrel 
 and the Honourable Frederick Augustus Fitzurse. The latter-named 
 gentleman having been got out of his bed with considerable difficulty 
 about half-past three in the morning, had been dressed by candle light, 
 and by candle light had been primed with the liquors judged necessary 
 to carry him through the business of the day. His room had remained 
 with the windows closed as if he were sleeping on to his usual hour, 
 and the housemaid, who had been properly kept in the dark with re- 
 gard to the proceedings about to take place, had not, of course, ven- 
 tured to disturb the sanctity of his repose. Thus the only living things 
 in the room during his absence were a few coals which had been 
 thrown upon the fire by Tom Hamilton to keep him warm while 
 dressing, which flickered and flared, casting fitful and tremulous gleams 
 upon the tumbled bed, and the slippers and dressing gown cast down, 
 and the table with its array of silver-covered bottles and pots, razors, 
 brushes, combs, and boxes of pills. Thus the matter continued for the 
 
I>E LUNATICO INQUmENDO. 95 
 
 space of an hour or somewhat more ; then came a terrible ringing at the 
 great bell of the house, and then an immense deal of bustle and confu- 
 sion in the hall below and upon the staircase. It was the bustle of feet 
 and not of tongues — for very few words were spoken and those in a low 
 tone — and at length the door of the room opened, and four or live men 
 made their way slowly in, carrying upon a cottage door the form of the 
 heir of Outrun Castle. Slowly approaching the bed they laid him 
 down upon it, and slipped the machine on which they bore him from 
 underneath him — with no great ceremony, indeed, but not without that 
 sort of solemn silence which the presence of death generally produces. 
 
 The old viscount himself, with his red nightcap and his redder face, 
 followed the bearers of his son and took a look at him as he lay, while 
 Tom Hamilton gazed over the peer's shoulder with feelings much less 
 pleasant than he liked to express. The peer was rapid in making up 
 his mind to most things : he was a man of action rather than words, 
 and his oration over his son's body was not a long one. 
 
 " D n me, he's done for him," said the viscount, after staring in at 
 
 the foot curtains of the bed for about thirty seconds. " What devilish 
 good shots all those Worrels are. Well, Freddy my boy, I'll give 
 them a touch of limbo for your sake, even if we can't get them hanged. — 
 I say, Tom, they ought to hang Worrel ; ought they not ? — Curse him 
 he shot the boy when he was drunk !" 
 
 " But, my dear lord," said Tom Hamilton, " you know you 
 would " 
 
 " Curse it hold your tongue," cried the viscount ; " never mind what 
 I would ! At all events we'll send after them and have them into jail. 
 Come away, Tom, come away, and let us put the dogs upon the scent ; 
 then we'll have a cutlet and a pint of Madeira by way of consolation." 
 
 Thus saying he quitted the room, and one by one the men who had 
 carried the body in followed the noble lord out — doubtless, with the 
 purpose of consoling themselves after his fashion. The door was 
 closed by the last of them, and the fire went on flickering round the 
 room as if nothing had been the matter. Who is it that loves or 
 mourns for the wicked ? 
 
 The room had been closed for about a quarter of an hour ; the news 
 of what had occurred had run through the household ; the servants' hall 
 was flowing with ale, and the peer's breakfast-room with Madeira, when 
 the handle of the lock in the chamber of death turned, the door gently 
 opened, and a young girl, in the dress of a housemaid entered with a noise- 
 less step, and, slow and trembling, approached the side of the bed. She 
 came evidently to take a last look of the dead body of her young master. 
 What had been the connexion between them matters not. He was de- 
 bauched, licentious, unfaithful, coarse ; it was impossible that he could 
 treat any woman well — it was scarcely possible that he could do aught 
 but injure, betray, insult, and tyrannise over any one who was in his 
 power ; but yet it was clear that there was one heart at least that loved 
 him. The poor girl was a pretty creature enough, with a countenance 
 of no great sense and much timidity, and her whole frame was agi- 
 tated, although, as yet, her eyes were tearless. When she had come 
 
96 THE commissioner;' OH, 
 
 close to the bed, however, and saw the pale face and the blood that 
 dabbled it, the tears welled over from her eyes and rolled silently down 
 her cheeks. Then kneeling down by the side of the bed, she murmured, 
 " God forgive you and me !" and stretching out her arm, she took the 
 hand that was next to her and pressed her lips upon it. 
 
 The moment that she had done so she started up, saying to herself 
 in a low voice and with a look of utter astonishment, " I never knew 
 that a dead man's hand was warm I" 
 
 After thus speaking, she stood and gazed for an instant or two with 
 a troubled and doubtful look, and then thrust her hand under her young 
 master's waistcoat. The agitation of her countenance became extreme, 
 but a gleam of joy mingled with the troubled emotions tliat crossed it, 
 like the rays of sunshine struggling with the clouds of a stormy sky. 
 She then drew her hand suddenly back and gazed again, and then bent 
 down her head till the curls of her hair fell upon his forehead, and her 
 cheek almost touched his lips, while her eye fixed vacantly upon the 
 other side of the room, gazing with eager intensity at nothing. The 
 next instant she cried, " It is his breath I" and then giving a loud and 
 piercing cry, she rushed to the door and thence to the top of the stairs, 
 where she uttered shriek after shriek, till the whole household came 
 running to know what was the matter. It seemed as if the poor girl 
 had lost all power to do any thing but scream, for to the first questions 
 addressed to her such Was her only reply ; but, as they demanded 
 angrily and eagerly, " What ails you, Jane? what ails you?" she stamped 
 her foot impatiently, exclaiming, " He is not dead! he breathes!" and 
 down she fell herself as pale, or paler, than him whom she had just 
 left. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 97 
 
 CHAPTER XVL 
 
 yiTZUKSK BEDIVIVUS THE CORPSE DISCOVEES THE CAUSE OF HIS AILMENT— 
 
 THE PEER HITS UPON A PLAN JERRY TRIPE SAILS UNDER SEALED ORDERS 
 
 THE SERVANTS SUSPECT THEIR LORD OF CEREBRAL DISTURBANCE A SECOND 
 
 SCENE OUT OF TOM THUMB. 
 
 Several minutes elapsed before tlie various personages who had been 
 collected together by the violent screaming of poor Jane, which we 
 have described in the last chapter, seemed to comprehend the cause of 
 
 her agitation or the meaning of her words. The peer d d her 
 
 twice, and vowed the girl was mad Tom Hamilton looked on her 
 with real compassion, springing from a variety of causes ; Jerry Tripe 
 pulled out of his pocket one of the undischarged brandy bottles, and 
 one of the maids took out a pair of scissors to cut her stay lace. 
 
 But Jane, with a last faint effort, cried, " Let me alone ! There ! 
 there ! he is not dead I tell you !" and she pointed with her hand in 
 the direction of Mr. Fitzurse's room. 
 
 What was the poor girl's meaning, now seemed to strike every one 
 in a moment ; and the opening of their understandings made them, as 
 usual, open their eyes and mouths also. 
 
 There were at this time five persons round her — the 'peer, Tom 
 Hamilton, a maid, Jerry Tripe, and a footman ; but aU left poor Jane 
 where she was, and rushed into Mr. Fitzurse's room. The peer caught 
 hold of his son's hand — though the fingers were cold, the palm was 
 warm. Tom Hamilton felt his heart: it beat, though but faintly. 
 That was enough for the viscount, however, who seized a ewer of water 
 and dashed it at once over his son's face. The effect was instantaneous : 
 he gave a great gasp and raised liimself upon his two elbows, while the 
 old man, taking off" his red velvet nightcap, waved it round and round 
 in the air, exclaiming, " Hurrah! hurrah ! hurrah !'* 
 
 But Mr. Fitzm-se sank back again, and though he opened his eyes, 
 seemed bewildered, and scarce hsdf alive. 
 
 " What is the matter ?" said he in a faint voice. " What brings you 
 all here ? I've got a devil of a headache. It's all that cursed spinach 
 that I ate last night. Hang me, if ever I eat any vegetables again ; 
 they always make my head ache." 
 
 " Send for a surgeon," cried the peer. " See what it is to have a 
 hard head ! though, by jingo, I did not know that the fellow had got a 
 skull that would turn a pistol-ball. Send for a surgeon, I say I" 
 
 " Stay, stay, my lord," said Tom Hamilton ; " we may all look 
 foolish, if we don't mind. I've a notion that he cut his forehead on a 
 stone as he fell. It seemed to me, at the time, that Worrell's pistol 
 was not aimed at him. Let's see how deep the wound is before we bring, 
 a surgeon to laugh at us." 
 
 C. — ^NO. IV. U 
 
98 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 « Hold," cried tlie peer ; *' every one of you stay here. I won't 
 have a word of this mentioned. I have a plan in my head. If any one 
 of you mention that he's come to life again, I'll discharge him without 
 warning. Here, Nelly Thomson, get me a bodkin. Tom Hamilton, 
 there's a good fellow, wipe his face with that towel." 
 
 " Why, what a slop you have made," said Mr. Fitzurse, beginning 
 to feel cold and imcomfortable. " I wonder what the deuce you are 
 all about." 
 
 Nobody took any pains to explain the circumstances ; but Mr. Fitz- 
 Tirse's face was wiped, the woimd in his forehead was probed with a 
 bodkin, and found to be a little triangular hole of no depth, evidently 
 cut by his fall upon a stone. Gradually, however, the recollection 
 of having been a principal in a duel, of being fired at and suddenly 
 losing all consciousness, retiu'ned, though faint and indistinctly ; 
 and the first effect upon the frame of Mr. Fitzurse was a violent fit of 
 trembling, as if the whole matter were to be done over again. Very 
 soon happier thoughts arose : it was something to have fought a duel, 
 and to have his name put in the newspapers, with " Affair of Honour" 
 before it. It would establish for him the character of a man of courage 
 for the rest of his life ; and he was beginning to grin with satisfaction 
 at the thought, when his father held up his finger solemnly, as a signal 
 that he was going to be oracular. 
 
 " Hush, hush, every one of you !" he cried. " I have a plan in my 
 head for punishing all those fellows, and getting all that we want. 
 First of all, Freddy, you are to be dead. Do you hear, all of you ? 
 He is to be dead; and if any one says a word about his being living, 
 I'll horsewhip him first, and discharge him afterwards. Mind that : 
 I'm a man of my word, you know. Where's the girl Jane ? she can't 
 be fainting at the top of the stairs all this time." 
 
 " No, my lord, I'm here," cried the timid voice of the poor house- 
 maid, through a chink of the door. ' 
 
 " Jane," cried the peer, " come in. You are not to say a word about 
 his being living, do you hear. How the devil you chanced to find it 
 out I don't know ; but, however, he must confine himself strictly to his 
 own room, and you shall have the pleasure of bringing him up his food, 
 Jane, on account of the good news you gave us." 
 
 Poor Jane looked as if it would be a pleasure indeed, but she said 
 not a word ; for, to tell the truth, the tears were very near her eyes, 
 and she was afraid of stirring the water for fear of its running over. 
 All the other servants swore in the most solemn manner to keep the 
 secret, and what is still better, they really intended to do so ; for they 
 knew that their good lord, who was somewhat choleric withal, was a 
 very likely man indeed to execute his threat, or even worse. All this 
 being settled, the peer took Jerry Tripe on one side, and entered with 
 him into secret conclave. They had a long and eager discussion, and 
 sundry of the servants and dependants were sent for from time to time, 
 questions were put to them, persons were despatched hither and thither 
 through the country, and several hours wers occupied in various evolu- 
 tions difficult to account for. At length, however, towards evening, 
 
1>E LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 99 
 
 two constables arrived, five stout men-servants, all covered with smock 
 frocks, were marshalled in the hall, and, under the leading and guidance 
 of Mr. Jeremy Tripe, they set out across the country towards nightfall. 
 For a couple of hours after their departure the peer seemed easy and 
 cheerful : he went up to his son's room, had a small turbot and lobster 
 sauce a broiled fowl with mushrooms a sweetbread done brown and a 
 leg of lamb carried up by the hands of Jane, while he himself, with a 
 decanter in each hand and a bottle of champagne under his arm, pro- 
 vided the liquid which was to moisten the solid mass prepared for his con- 
 sumption. There he and the corpse ate and drank, and were merry ; for 
 the good strong wine speedily cleared away the headache imder which 
 the worthy Mr. Fitzurse had been labouring during the whole day. But 
 tow ards nine or ten o'clock the peer became fidgetty again, looked at 
 his watch every five minutes, and all the servants who did not know 
 the resuscitation of the admirable Mr. Henry Frederick Augustus, set 
 their lord down for insane when they found him eating and drinking 
 in his dead son's room, and shouting inquiries from the top of the stairs 
 to the bottom as to whether Jerry Tripe had yet returned. Suddenly, 
 however, his lordship seemed to recollect something, and calling for 
 maids and housekeepers, made them prepare the best visitor's room, 
 which was an old-fashioned state apartment of the reign of Charles II. 
 The furniture was dusted, mattrasses, sheets and blankets, were put 
 upon the bed, an immense fire of wood was piled up in the capacious 
 hearth, and a pair of wax lights set down upon the toilet table. 
 
 " Run you, Jane and Nelly Thomson," cried the peer, " run to my 
 sister's room — what is called the young lady's room I mean — and bring 
 out the middle one of the three trunks that you will find in the latge 
 cupboard. We shall get night dresses enough in that I dare say." 
 
 The two girls immediately fulfilled his command, and from a room 
 which had been five-and-twenty years imtenanted, they brought forth 
 a large dusty trunk, with two straps attached to either handle, giving 
 reason to suppose that it had not been unpacked since it had been used 
 by some person in travelling. The key, however, had yet to be found, 
 and the search for it occupied nearly half an hour. When it was dis- 
 covered at length, the rusty lock required several minutes more ere it 
 would yield ; but when all this w^as accomplished, and the trunk opened, 
 a quantity of clean linen was discovered neatly packed, from which, 
 without much search, a lady's night dress and nightcap, richly laced, 
 but yellow with age, were draw n forth and hung up at the fire to air. 
 It was now the turn of the two maids to think their lord as mad as a 
 March hare, for by the common process of reasoning which maid ser- 
 vants usually employ on such occasions, that is to say, taking up the two 
 first facts that come to hand, and clapping them together, these two 
 young ladies concluded that the noble viscount was going to dress him- 
 self in the night-clothes of his sister, who had been dead for a quarter 
 of a century, and go to bed in the state sleeping-room. They were 
 more confirmed in this opinion than ever when the peer concluded his 
 proceedings by saying, " There> that will all do very well ! Now you may 
 leave me> and when Jerry Tripe arrives, send him up here directly." 
 
 ^S 
 
100 THE COMMISSIONER J OR, 
 
 The maids accordingly retired with due decorum, and betook them- 
 selves to the servants' hall. Scarcely had they been gone five minutes, 
 however, when the bell of the state-room rang and produced some 
 difficulty in the lower regions, for but one footman had been left in the 
 house, and he had gone out to the back door of the castle to speak a 
 few sweet words to the laundry maid who had come up to the back 
 door to speak a few sweet words to him. There being no help for it, 
 Nelly Thomson went to see what her lord wanted, and Jane went also 
 up the stairs for company, taking a peep into Mr. Fitzurse's room as 
 she passed, but not going in, though he beckoned to her to do so. 
 
 " Go down into the dining-room, Nelly," said the peer to the house- 
 maid, "open the liqueur case that you will find by the ice pail, and bring 
 me out the bottle that is marked, Cura9oa. Bring me a glass also ; 
 there's a good girl. I don't know how it is, I can't help thinking of 
 my sister in this room.'' 
 
 Nelly Thomson disappeared, and was longer absent- than the earl 
 thought proper, but when she returned she had an immense quantity 
 of wonder in her face, with some horror, and some fear. 
 
 " Lord, my lord," she cried, " such a thing has happened !" 
 
 " What the devil is it ?" demanded the peer. " Don't stand staring 
 with your mouth open like a stuck pig, but give me a glass of Cura^oa, 
 and tell me whatjt's all about." 
 
 " About, my lord," cried the girl gingling the bottle and glass together, 
 as her hand shook while she poured out the liquor, " it's about poor old 
 Scapulary, the clerk and sexton, who has been murdered in his bed at 
 six o'clock this morning, by Joey Pike, the waiter at the Half Moon." 
 
 " Murdered !" exclaimed the peer. 
 
 " Ay, my lord," replied the girl, " he was quite dead when they fomid 
 him." 
 
 "A devilish good thing too!" cried the peer; "the old vagabond 
 must hold his tongue now. Well done, Joey Pike. 'Pon my soul I'll 
 give him half-a-crown if he can prove that he did it." 
 
 " Oh, my lord, there's no doubt that he did it," cried the girl again ; 
 "for Mrs. Scapulary had just stepped out, they say, to get a penn'orth 
 of milk, and was not gone more than five minutes, and in the mean- 
 while, Tims, the market gardener, saw Joey come out of the cottage 
 in a great fluster and scud away as hard as he could go." 
 
 " It's all a lie," said the peer, after reflecting a moment, and recol- 
 lecting that .he had seen Joey Pike, whose face he knew well, with 
 Worrel in the morning. " It's all a lie, girl." 
 
 " Well, my lord," said Nelly bridling, " all I know is that old 
 Scapulary is as dead as a door nail." 
 
 " That's good luck at all events," said the peer, whoever did it. 
 "Hark, there's twelve o'clock, isn't it? Ay, and there's a noise down 
 stairs too. There they are, there they are, I'm sure ! Send them up, 
 Nelly, send them up ! Quick, quick, send them all up here !'* 
 
 Nelly flew to obey her lord's behest and to satisfy her own curiosity, 
 and in about three minutes more four men mounted the great staircase, 
 and entered the state bedchamber, carrying between them, in an arm- 
 
t)E tUNATICO INQUIUENDO. 101 
 
 cKair, a young lady clothed in a light dressing-gown, which displayed 
 from under the edge thereof two beautiful little white feet, one in a 
 slipper lined with fur, and one without any covering whatsoever. She 
 had a nightcap on her head, from which, however, escaped bright 
 masses of glossy and curling hair ; and, while over her eyes was boimd 
 one red silk handkerchief, over her mouth was tied another, so as to 
 prevent any part of her face from being seen, except the delicate little 
 nose, tant soit peu retrousse^ and a part of a fair cheek. By order 
 of the peer, these bandages were immediately removed, and Laura 
 Longmore, as pretty as ever, but looking ^vild, lightened, and fatigued 
 was presented to the eyes of the spectators. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE FUGITIVE THOUGHTS OP JOEY PIKE — THE CHEVAXIEE TARES ▲ ROLL AFTER 
 
 BREAKFAST THE CHEVALIER OBTAINS HIS FIRST VIEW OF LONDON BY NIGHT — • 
 
 THE AUTHOR THEREUPON ADDRESSES THE GODS AND GODDESSES, IN ORDER TO 
 
 MYSTIFY THE READER, AND BE MISTAKEN FOR AN OLD GREEK A CATALOGUE OF 
 
 SIGHTS WORREL MAKES AN UNCIVIL COMPARISON ^THB CHEVALIER AGREES, 
 
 AND PUTS UP AT THE GOLDEN CROSS. 
 
 "Illustrissimo Signore, — 
 
 " It is impossible for you to conceive the shaggura with which I 
 was driven to abandon you this morning, and — as my learned friend, 
 Winkin de Worde, used to say — to go like Caesar, summa diligentia, 
 on the top of the diligence to London. But, sir, these people accuse, 
 me of having committed an affroose crime ; and although I am as in- 
 nocent of it as an enfant, yet they would put me in prison, perhaps, 
 for two or three months ; and, some beau matin, I might find myself 
 suspendu before I knew any thing about it. The imprisonment I could 
 not bear, piu-toasto morir ; and as for the potence with which I am 
 threatened, nothing can deliver me from it but your temoignage. They 
 accuse me, sir, of having assassinated poor old Toby Scapulary, the 
 sexton, at the very time when I was having the felicitah of accom- 
 panying yourself and Signor Worrel in your expedition against the 
 forces from Outrun Castle. Now, though it be not impossible that 
 this hand-and-arm quel bracheo e mano might slay two men at once, yet 
 it is quite impossible that I, Guisseppe Pike, could accompany you to 
 the slaughter of one, and kill another more than a mile off at the same 
 moment. If, then, you will condescend to pardon my taking such an 
 unceremonious conge, and will, together with my proudly-esteemed 
 
10^ THT5 COMMISSIONElt ; Oft, 
 
 ^K. • . -.-'- -v:.'::.i'; s.': 
 
 young patron, Signor Worrel, testify to my innoclienzah, you will 
 
 confer the greatest benefice upon 
 
 " Your umilisstmo servo, 
 
 "Joey Pike. 
 
 "P.S. No. 1 I am to be found at the sign of the Chien Noir, or 
 
 Black Dog, in what my French friends would call the JRtie de Manacles, 
 but which we call Fetter-lane. 
 
 "P.S. No. 2. — I scarcely dare entertain the speranza of ever being 
 received into your service again, after the inconcevable escapade which 
 Ihave been obliged to commit. But all that I can say is, that I am as 
 pure of the crime as the holy virgin of Loretto, who, an Italian friend 
 assured me upon his sacred honour, is a great deal purer than any other 
 virgin in the world ; and that if you will overlook the inconvenience, I 
 will ever serve you with devotion and reconnoissance. 
 
 " P.S. No. 3 As I quitted the half-moon subitOy I had not time to 
 
 settle with good Mrs. Muggins for the small salario which I was to 
 receive ; and if you would condescend to beg her to send it to me, to- 
 gether with my little trosseau, the benefit would be sensitively appre- 
 ciated by your devoo-y. 
 
 «J. P.'' 
 
 Such was the epistle brought down by the coach, and which the 
 Chevalier de Lunatico received at the breakfast table of Mr. Long- 
 shanks, on the morning subsequent to that of our revered friend's visit to 
 the bereaved Mr. Longmore. Nearly sit the same time, a large packet 
 was put into his hands, containing the letters of introduction which 
 his philosophical acquaintance had promised him for various individuals 
 in London ; and the chevalier, with that beautiful promptitude which is 
 peculiar to the personages of his planet, preventing them in general 
 from looking before they leap, determined instantly to proceed to 
 London at once, to discover the residence of his inestimable servant, 
 Joey Pike, and to entertain himself in the capital till such time at 
 least as all annoyance in regard to the affair of the duel was at an end ; 
 for by this time he had, upon due consideration, made up his mind to 
 the fact, that although a day or two's practical acquaintance with prison 
 discipline might be very agreeable, as well as consistent with his views 
 and purposes, a month or six weeks thereof would be neither necessary 
 nor agreeable. He only paused, therefore, to consider one thing, which 
 was, whether Worrel would accompany him or not ; for it must be re- 
 membered that the chevalier had rather rashly swallowed some drops of 
 that particular elixir, which instantly produced in his bosom a sympathy 
 with those persons in whose company he drank it ; and he now found 
 himself what he called, very foolishly unwilling to part from his young 
 friend. During the whole of the preceding day, Worrel had either 
 wandered through the scenes of former happiness, or shut himself up 
 in the room which had been assigned to him at the good surgeon's, 
 making himself as miserable as heart could desire. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 103 
 
 Now, the reader, who is behind the scenes, knows that all this grief 
 was very unnecessary, having beheld the fair Laura safe and well at 
 Outrun Castle — but we all make ourselves miserable unnecessarily as 
 well as Harry Worrel ; and the same dear reader may rest perfectly 
 satisfied, that the only eye which sees behind the scenes on all occa- 
 sions, and knows the actual facts, and ultimate results of all that 
 takes place throughout the universe, judges our sorrows and miseries 
 as unnecessary as those of Harry Worrel seem to the reader, At least, 
 such was the opinion delivered afterwards by our excellent friend 
 Mr. Longshanks ; and where is the man who would question the dic- 
 tum of so profound a moral philosopher? To Worrel then the 
 chevalier instantly applied, and, to his great satisfaction found that 
 he was quite as willing to visit the capital city of Great Britain as if 
 he had been fresh from the moon. 
 
 Harry Worrel, it must he said had, on the previous evening, stolen 
 an interview with Mr. Longmore himself, and their mutual tears had 
 brought the old man and the young one closer together than years of 
 happy and contented intercourse haa done. And now the reader may, 
 perhaps, accuse the writer of being an Irishman, to which he will 
 neither plead guilty or not guilty, but to the covert and insidious 
 part of the charge, that in his capacity of Irishman he has com- 
 mitted a bull, by first saying, that Harry Worrel spent the whole of 
 the preceding day in wandering round the scenes of former happiness, 
 or in his own room ; and afterwards declaring he visited Mr. Long- 
 more. 
 
 But the reader must be now informed that the very room in the 
 inn which Mr. Longmore tenanted, was one of those scenes of former 
 happiness ; inasmuch as in that room he had spent two hours with 
 Laura Longmore, while in the market-place below, her father, in a 
 speech of vast length, proposed a remarkably stupid candidate as the 
 legislative representative of the people of the town. 
 
 Harry Worrel did then, most willingly undertake to accompany Mr. de 
 Lmiatico in the stage coach to London ; and as the hour was approach- 
 ing at which the aforesaid vehicle passed the end of the village, an 
 instant bustle of preparation took place. Mr. Longshanks added some 
 letters to those which had been furnished by Mr. Longmore. The 
 servants were all actively in expectation of the departing half-crowns, 
 and all was ready at the end of about half-an-hour. The gardener 
 then carried down the goods and chattels of the parties, taking 
 especial care of the chevalier's invaluable portmanteau, which from 
 the glistening whitish green skin wherewith it was covered, unlike any 
 earthly portmanteau he had ever seen, engaged the worthy horticul- 
 turist's attention, and excited his respect and admiration. A short dis- 
 cussion then took place as to whether it would be better to proceed on 
 the outside or the inside of the coach ; both Worrel and the chevalier 
 being anxious to enjoy the fresh air, if possible, and their friend, Mr. 
 Longshanks, advising them strenuously on the contrary, to shut them- 
 selves up in the inside of the vehicle, lest they should be seen in passing 
 through the village of Outrun, and consigned to the inside of a prison. 
 
104 THE COMMISSIOKEH J OR, 
 
 The question, however, was decided for them by the arrival of the 
 coach. No outside place was to be obtained at all ; the inside was 
 quite vacant ; and after shaking the hospitable host by the hand, they 
 got in and were speedily rolling on their way to London. Harry 
 Worrel bent down his head and said nothing ; and the chevalier, who 
 perfectly understood what was to be done on such occasions, looked 
 out of the window and said nothing either. Thus passed an hour, 
 and then some little thing, it matters not what, caused one or the other 
 of them to speak. Conversation began with two or three words,— ^left off 
 
 began again — fell to the ground once more. It seemed as if each was 
 
 reluctant to talk, and yet each helped the other on a little, till after a 
 while it flowed on in a smooth and even strain, low and melancholy 
 enough, but yet pleasing to both. Thus hour after hour slipped away ; 
 thus change after change of horses took place, and every now and then 
 the stream of conversation would be varied by the chevalier inquiring, 
 and by Worrel explaining the meaning of the various things they saw. 
 
 It was dark when they entered London, and the dearly beloved reader 
 may perhaps suppose, that such was not the moment the chevalier should 
 have chosen for taking his first view of the British capital ; but in this 
 point the reader is mistaken ; for one of the most characteristic times of 
 London, if I may make use of such an expression, is in the spring 
 time, about an hour after dame night has let the train of her black 
 petticoat fall down upon the floor of the earth. 
 
 Oh, ye gods and goddesses ! that, high upon the top of Olympus, 
 know nothing, or very little, of what is going on in great cities after 
 nightfall, you cannot conceive what a scene the vast metropolis presents 
 for an hour or two at the close of each successive day! 
 
 All the varied objects of that scene rushed upon the keen eyes of the 
 chevalier, one by one, as he looked out from the window of the vehicle 
 in which he was whirled along. The multitude of gas lamps, the 
 blazing shop windows, shawls, stockings, macintoshes, shoes, silver, 
 gold, jewels, plate glass, books, newspapers, medicines, doctors* bottles, 
 toys, prints, furniture, guns, pistols, swords, epaulets, breeches, stays, 
 petticoats, bustles, bonnets, caps, handkerchiefs, gloves, vegetables, 
 meat, fish, poultry, game, all came dashing upon his visual organs with 
 a rapidity that might have blinded any other unaccustomed eyes but 
 those of the Chevalier de Lunatico. It seemed as if he was being pelted 
 with every thing eatable, drinkable, wearable, usable, readable, feelable, 
 hearable, smellable, thinkable, that the world ever produced. But this 
 was not one-half of the affair, for these were all objects fixed and im- 
 movable : it was he that was whirled past them — they, in reality, did 
 not make the assault upon him. But, in addition to this, there were all 
 the moving sights of the place ; there were hackney coaches carrying 
 ladies of one rank out to tea parties ; there were gentlemen's carriages 
 carrying persons of another class out to dinner parties. There were 
 cabriolets, and their harnessed lightning, whirling members of parlia- 
 ment down to St. Stephen's with the view of governing or misgoverning 
 the nation. There were police vans, like the carls of a vagabond mena- 
 gerie, transporting their gaol birds (that were likely soon to be retrans^ 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIB^PNPO. 105 
 
 ported) from the torture-house of the police office to the torture-house of 
 the prison. There were wagons rolling the riches of the world in and 
 out of London ; there were carts carrying the goods and chattels of the 
 citizens from one part of the city to the other ; there were coster- 
 mongers, dwindling down from the pony, through the ass, to the dog, 
 whirling about their lesser vehicles, and their retail wares. There was 
 the omnibus, the voracious omnibus, the Leviathan of the great city, with 
 a dozen Jonahs in its belly, and likewise the locomotive solitude of 
 the hack cab with the driver perched upon his wandering observatory 
 behind, and then there were all the thousands of asses, and horses, and 
 dogs, drawing their vehicles upon their destined course. But, besides 
 all these, there were the two-legged things that kept the pavement, 
 merchants, tradesmen, shopmen, mechanics, labourers, swindlers, 
 pickpockets, thieves, gentlemen and blackguards with cigars in their 
 mouths. Then there were ladies, shopwomen, market women, tradesmen's 
 wives, personages of a sadly distinct profession, and young ladies car- 
 rying bandboxes, as if they were taking home bonnets ; and there were 
 multitudes of little children engaged in every sort of laudable occupa- 
 tion, staring, chattering, hooting, crying, screaming, M^ondering ; learning 
 how to become thieves, engaged in picking pockets, or occupied in 
 being run over. It was a wonderful sight, and all by lamplight ; but 
 the reader may wish to know, before we convey the chevalier to the inn, 
 at which he was destined to stop, what impression all this made upon 
 him. What he thought of it in short. 
 
 The answer may be very soon given. Why, he thought it very like 
 the capital of the moon, indeed ; and, had he not inadvertently packed 
 up all his billets in his portmanteau, he would certainly have showered 
 forth whole handfuUs out of the window, summoning the mixed multi- 
 tude to appear at St. Luke's. He did in truth put his hands in his 
 pockets, as Worrel asked him, if it did not seem like bedlam broke 
 loose. But, finding no tickets there, he merely replied, " Very," and 
 in a few minutes after, the coach made a rush at the golden cross, 
 Charing-cross, which may well be considered as the centre of every 
 thing, except gravity, and at which, consequently, the worthy commis- 
 sioner from the moon determined to put up. 
 
106 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIL 
 
 THE WRITEB DEFENDS HIMSELF AGAINST ANTICIPATED BEPROAOHES HOW LAUBA 
 
 I.ONGMOBE HAPPENED TO COME WHITHER SHE DID COME LAURA DISLIKES HER 
 
 SITUATION— THE VISCOUNT BEGINS TO HAVE DOUBTS AS TO THE PLEASANTNESS 
 
 OF HIS OWN THE SPEECHES OF HIS SATELLITES BELIEVE HIM HE EVINCES THE 
 
 FBANKNESS OF HIS NATUBE THE EVASION OF CEBTAIN PBISONEBS RENEWS THE 
 
 PEEB's EMBABBASSMENT HE IS BELIEVED AGAIN BY THE PBOFQUND WISDOM OF 
 
 TOM HAMILTON. 
 
 Reader, did you ever see a cat with a mouse ? Did you ever see a 
 child with a fly ? Did you ever see a boy tormenting a dog ? Did you 
 ever yourself feel inclined to make a fellow-creature linger with long 
 impatience upon your sovereign will ? If so, you know quite well the 
 pleasure of teasing, and can form a faint, a very faint idea of the delight 
 with which an author keeps his public in suspense in regard to this or 
 that character, for whom, he is well aware, he has created an interest. 
 He will do any thing to prolong your pain ; he will lead you to totally 
 different scenes ; he will talk to you of totally different people ; he will 
 
 favour you with an interminable landscape, a la ; he will give 
 
 you a page of pretty smartness, a la ; he will detain you through 
 
 two pages of soft nothing, a la — ; he will tease you with a load 
 
 of frothy philosophy, a la — — ; he will venture to be dull and 
 heavy, light and empty, a twaddler or a bore, sooner than not keep you 
 upon the tenter hooks of suspense, if he once knows he has thoroughly 
 hooked you upon them. Such, dear reader, you may think perhaps is 
 the case in the present instance ; but, in good truth, you are mistaken, 
 it was merely a sense of imperative duty that led the writer to quit 
 fair Laura Longmore, and pursue the Chevalier de Lunatico along his 
 appointed path. To return, however, to Outrun Castle, and to the pre- 
 cise moment at which we left it — Laura Longmore, being then, as the 
 reader recollects, seated in an arm-chair in the antiquated state room, 
 with a blazing wood fire before her, and the old-fashioned bed, with its 
 carved pillars and green and yellow hangings, behind her; the viscount, 
 with rubicund countenance, on one side, the housemaid on the other, 
 and four or five stout serving men of different grades and classes, form- 
 ing a circle in front, like that which waits the beck of royalty on certain 
 days in March, April, May, and June. She herself, poor girl, was 
 dazzled, bewildered, and confused, besides being half choked, so that 
 she opened both her eyes and her mouth, like some pretty little bird 
 when dragged out of a trap by a mischievous boy. 
 
 When first caught by the hands that now brought her to Outrun Castle, 
 in the court of her father's house, which she had very imprudently re- 
 entered, she had imagined them to be friendly hands, and, finding the 
 place somewhat too hot to hold her, had suffered them to carry her away 
 very quietly. When she found, however, that they did not take her back 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 107 
 
 to her father, she began to ask questions, and very soon after had still 
 farther reason to suppose the five gentlemen to have different views 
 from her own in the proceeding, from their putting a handkerchief de- 
 licately over her mouth, and tying it in a knot behind. The practice 
 of locking the stable door after the steed is stolen most men have to 
 regret through life, and poor Laura was very sorry indeed that she had 
 not screamed before. Nevertheless, she took the opportunity of the 
 adjusting this unpleasant sort of cravat to utter two or three very shrill 
 cries for help ; but those cries were altogether drowned in the universal 
 roar and confusion wliich, as we have already shown, was going on 
 round Mr. Longmore's house. Doubtless, at the time that we gave 
 that description, the reader, with that spice of saucy criticism, which 
 was introduced into Paradise by Satan, and has lurked in man's nature 
 ever since the fall, harshly judged that it was altogether unnecessary, 
 a superfluity, a redundant excrescence, like one of the long, tiresome 
 accounts of a modern romance, or one of the lumps of lobster-salad phi- 
 losophy that ornament our most fashionable novels. But no such thing ; 
 it was given solely for the purpose of letting the reader see in an after 
 place how the cries of poor Laura Longmore were drowned in the riot 
 of the fire, and making him open his eyes with wonder at the marvel- 
 lous harmony and consistency reigning through every part of this extra- 
 ordinary performance. 
 
 However that may be, poor Laura gazed wildly round her when she 
 found herself in a strange room ; and although she knew well the comi- 
 tenance of the noble viscount, it brought her no satisfactory solution of 
 the enigma of her situation. For a moment no words could she utter, 
 and, in the meanwhile, the noble lord himself looked with a sharf) and 
 eager glance for the face of his butler. 
 
 " Where's Jerry "t" he cried. " Where's Jerry Tripe ?'* His eyes 
 turned towards the man who served him in the capacity of chief game- 
 keeper. 
 
 " Why, my lord," he replied, touching the top of his forehead with 
 the hand that had not his hat in it, " they have bagged him. The 
 strange gentleman with the long nose, 1 find — for I stopped a bit 
 behind to inquire — doubled upon him, and gave him in charge too." 
 
 " By jingo, that's awkward," cried the peer. " I shouldn't wonder if 
 he peached." 
 
 " Lord bless you, my lord, no," cried the gamekeeper. " Jerry will 
 waddle off" some way, depend upon it. He knows old Tom the con- 
 stable quite well, and will come round him some way." 
 
 " Come here, come here," cried the peer, " we must consult with Tom 
 Hamilton." 
 
 Thus saying, he was about to retreat from the room, when Laura 
 suddenly stopped him for a moment by exclaiming, " Qh, my lord, what 
 have you brought me here for ?" 
 
 The question was a very simple one, nearly as simple indeed as those 
 which her majesty's ministers generally refuse to answer when asked in 
 the House of Commons, on the ground of a reply being likely to prove 
 detrimental to the public serviee. The peer, however, though well 
 
108 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 versed in parliamentary forms, took a different view of the matter, and 
 having certain good-humoured points in his nature, he replied in a 
 cheerful, jolly tone, shaking both Laura's hands, " Come, come, sit 
 down ; there's a dear pretty little soul, and you shall hear all about it 
 by-and-by. Make yourself comfortable, and take a drop of something 
 warm. I'll send you up a jug of mulled claret and a toast, for these 
 rough fellows of mine seem to have fetched you out of bed. Sit down 
 and warm your feet, and I'll be back again presently. Get out. Hard- 
 ness Get out, Blackstone Jack, you blackguard, get out 
 
 Away with every one of you ! Jane, come along you too ; I don't 
 
 choose to have two women laying their heads together." 
 
 Thus saying, he saw his party march out before him rank and file, 
 and then left the room himself, turning the great key in the lock behind him. 
 
 " Now, what the devil's the meaning of all this ?" he exclaimed, ad- 
 dressing the gamekeeper. " How come you to be three hours too late? 
 How come you to have brought the girl in her night things ? You 
 have not broken into the house, you rascal, surely ? " 
 
 " Why, the house is burnt down, my lord," replied one of the men. 
 
 " Arson ! ! !" exclaimed the peer, still fancying that his commands 
 had been over-acted. But a few words more explained to him that 
 Jerry Tripe and his associates, having been sent with the double pur- 
 pose of arresting the chevalier and Worrel and carrying off Laura, 
 had contrived to forget three hours at a public-house on their way to 
 Mr. Longmore's, had wandered about the place for some little time 
 concocting schemes for remedying their error, and had just deter- 
 mined to effect an entrance upon the pretence of capturing the che- 
 valier for his share in the duel, when the fire broke out and pre- 
 sented them with all the facilities they could desire. The tidings 
 certainly took the peer by surprise. The reader knows that he was 
 a frank man in his way ; and, iDlurting forth as usual exactly what he 
 felt, he showed what other men in general conceal — namely, imfeigned 
 pleasure at that which gave success to his own plans, although it in- 
 volved others in ruin and destruction. When he heard, then, of the 
 burning of Mr. Longmore's house — of Laura having darted back again 
 in search of something which she considered very valuable — of his men 
 having pounced upon her through a back door, and carried her off un- 
 perceived into the little fir wood behind, he laughed, rubbed his hands, 
 chuckled, exclaimed, " Capital, capital !" and vociferated, " It could not 
 have happened better. They think her dead ; depend upon it they 
 
 think her dead — roasted, roasted, like a leg of mutton a nice little 
 
 fat roast she'd make too but that's capital Now, we can do with 
 
 her just what we like without any inquiry." 
 
 As he said this he paused in thought, and then said ** A hum ! 
 A hah !" then thought again and added in a low tone to himself, " If 
 
 I can but manage to keep Freddy as snug Where's Tom Hamilton ? 
 
 d — n it, I must speak with Tom Hamilton." 
 
 But Tom Hamilton was not so easily found as the peer expected, 
 for in truth the worthy lord had entirely forgotten his son's dearly 
 beloved friend during the whole evening, and Tom, upon the principle 
 
DE liUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 109 
 
 of making himself still more beloved, had according to the old axiom, 
 taken care of himself. 
 
 Tom Hamilton, it must be known, was a great favourite with the 
 whole household. The maids declared that they would work for him by 
 night or by day, and as to the men they all found something to admire 
 in him, each in his own particular way, for Tom had a great genius 
 for many of the arts and sciences on which the various domestics 
 prided themselves. He could ride a horse, shoe a horse, or drive a 
 horse as well as any man in Europe, and, therefore, he was a great 
 friend to the coachman, the grooms, and the helpers, in the stable. 
 He was a capital shot, and a famous angler ; knew every thing about 
 dogs as well as he did about horses ; could ferret a warren or cast a 
 net, or should need be, set a snare with any man — and thus Tom was 
 a favourite with the gamekeeper, the lookers, and all the dependants of 
 that branch. As for Jerry Tripe, he declared that Mr. Hamilton 
 would tell a wine's age to a single^ year by only looking through the 
 glass with one eye ; and by talents of a similar kind he had conciliated 
 the affections of all the footmen. The result of all tliis was, that 
 Tom Hamilton did not go without his dinner, although the peer totally 
 forgot him while dining in his son's room, and although almost all the 
 servants had been sent out upon different errands. The cook had 
 dressed him some cutlets, a fine trout, and a small spring chicken, and 
 Jerry Tripe before he went out took especial care that if Mr. Hamilton 
 was thirsty, it should not be for want of wine. Thus seated in the 
 dining-room by himself, Tom had made Iiimself extremely comfortable, 
 had drank the exact portion that made his face glow and his eyes 
 sparkle, his heart beat, and his spirits rise without disturbing the 
 process of thought in the slightest degree, or making his steps in the 
 least unsteady ; and finding that the peer did not come down to enter- 
 tain him, he walked out to entertain himself. 
 
 When the viscount then descended from the state chamber, leaving 
 Laura behind him, he circum-ambulated the greater part of the house 
 without finding the person he sought, and having no other resource he 
 went back to the room of his son to consult with him on what steps 
 they were to follow. He had scarcely opened the business of the night, 
 however when Mr. Hamilton himself appeared, exclaiming with hit 
 face towards the peer, 
 
 *' By Jove, my lord, they're all off." 
 
 " Who do you mean Tom, who do you mean ?" cried the viscount. 
 
 " Why our friend Jerry, with Worrel, Joey Pike, and the chevalier," 
 answered Tom Hamilton, and in a very few words he explained how 
 he had walked forth in the direction of Ivy-hall to meet the party 
 which had been despatched thither, and that he had discovered the 
 evasion of his fellow-culprits from the gripe of the constables. 
 
 " That's awkward upon my soul," cried the peer. 
 
 " Par-ti-cu-lar-ly unfortunate !" whispered forth Mr. Fitzurse. 
 « What's to be done, Tom ?" 
 
 " Why," answered Tom Hamilton, who to say the truth had not 
 much fancied the serious part of the business, and now foresaw a good 
 
110 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 joke. " Why they must be either caught again in a few days, or else 
 they must quit this part of the country altogether; so you must keep 
 yourself quite snug, Fitzurse — Can't you sham dead a little longer?" 
 
 " He shall by " cried the viscount ; his face assuming a deeper 
 
 shade at the very thought of his son coming to life inopportunely. 
 " He shall be dead for the next fortnight, and by the end of that time he 
 shall be married. Why, Tom, we have got the girl herein the house." 
 
 " Why, I don't quite like to have any thing to do with that part of 
 the matter," replied Tom Hamilton. " I'm afraid, my lord, you'll burn 
 your fingers." 
 
 "Whew! never fear," cried the peer. "But that's no business of 
 yours, Tom, so don't start difficulties." 
 
 " Why, I see one difficulty," replied the friend, " which you may 
 have some trouble in getting over, at all events without my help." 
 
 « What's that ?" cried the peer, half angrily. « What is that ?" 
 
 " Why the coroner's inquest," answered Tom Hamilton. "If Fitzurse 
 is dead, depend upon it the coroner will have an inquest upon him." 
 
 " D n the coroner," cried the peer stamping his foot at this un- 
 expected obstacle, "I have a great mind to shut him up too." 
 
 " No, no, that will never do," cried Tom Hamilton. 
 
 " By Jove," drawled Mr. Fitzurse, " it would be very pretty sport 
 to have such a beast as a coroner up here ; my father wants to make a 
 menagerie of the castle." v 
 
 " He's got some odd animals in it already," murmured Tom Hamil- 
 ton. " If you leave it to me," he continued, " I'll manage the matter 
 for you — only you must be all obedient to my commands. I've got a 
 plan for you, viscount, that'll settle this affair in a trice." 
 
 " Name, name," cried the peer, as if he was shouting at a public 
 meeting. 
 
 " Why we must let the jury sit upon him," said Tom Hamilton. 
 *' The farce will be a very good one, viscount. These are our parts — 
 Fitzurse shall be a dead man again ; we'll paint him blue and white, 
 and lay him out. You shall be a mourning father, and we'll make you 
 smell onions, or give you a bottle of hartshorn till you cry. I'll get 
 on a white wig and a black coat with a snuif-box, a gold headed stick, 
 knee-breeches, silk stockings, and my cuffs turned up to act the surgeon, 
 sent for from London. I'll give evidence regarding the post mortem 
 examination of the body." 
 
 " Capital, capital," cried the peer. " By jingo, Tom, you're a hearty 
 good fellow. Hang me if we won't have anotlier bottle of champagne 
 to drink Success to the dead man and confusion to the coroner's 
 inquest'^ 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENI;0 
 
 iii 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 AN IN<iUEST ON THE CORPSE OF A LIVING MAN — A NEW USE IS DISCOVERED FOB A 
 TABLE NAPKIN — A JUROR IS DISAPPOINTED OF HIS LAWFUL SEAT — THE 
 VIEWING OF THE BODY AND THE MERRY MOURNERS — T05I HAMILTON TAKES 
 OUT A DIPLOMA — THE PEER AND HIS FRIEND FIRE HOT SHOT AT EACH OTHEB 
 —•THE JURY DECiDE UPON THEIR VERDICT. 
 
 It was at the hour of two of the following day. The servants of Out- 
 run Castle were marshalled in the hall. Every thing was prepared up 
 stairs. The noble viscount dressed — as the newspapers say, in describ- 
 ing some criminal at the bar — in a decent suit of mourning, was in the 
 little-used library of his dwelling house, with the windows half closed, 
 the corners of his mouth convulsively drawn down, and his eyes twink- 
 ling with scarcely repressed fun, when a large body of gentlemen, chosen 
 from amongst the neighbouring ploughmen, and other respectable 
 householders, arrived in a cart upon the gravelly esplanade before Out- 
 run Castle, and began ascending the steps. Nearly at the same mo- 
 ment a personage with a shrewd, wind-cutting countenance, powder in 
 his hair, a pig-tail behind, a black coat, covered with a blacker spenser, 
 drab breeches, and continuations, came riding up upon a hard-mouthed 
 malicious-looking pony, and received the ssdutations of the assembled 
 jury as Mr. Crowner. 
 
 The worthy peer, unable to deny himself his joke, had determined 
 upon receiving the whole quest in person, and consequently the coroner 
 and train were ushered at once into the library, where he sat in state. 
 In then they walked, the crown officer at their head, feeling a vast 
 deal of respect for the peer, who was before him, and a vast deal of 
 contempt for the jury who were behind. Thus, on entering the chamber, 
 the worthy gentleman, who was a ci-devant attorney, paused suddenly 
 to make a lowly reverence to the viscount ; but while his head was 
 describing the segment of a circle in its descent, a worthy juror who 
 followed, and who did not expect this abrupt halt, was impelled forward, 
 partly by his own impetus, partly by that of the whole inquest behind ; 
 and treading first upon the coroner's heels with his hob-nailed shoes, 
 and then endeavouring to fend himself off with his hands, he fairly 
 brought his worthy leader on his knees, at the feet of the peer. Up 
 started the coroner again with sundry fierce contortions of visage, and 
 after three hops of agony, he exclaimed, " Gamaliel Dickens ! Gama- 
 liel Dickens ! The man's a born idiot, or I would commit him." 
 
 " Dang it ! Mr. Coroner," cried Gamaliel, taking himself by the 
 forelock, "I couldn't help it, mun. It's all your fault, Stubbs." 
 
 Stubbs, with all the skill of an outgoing minister, handed over the 
 embarrassment and the blame to his successor, and a voice from be- 
 hind, belonging to an ex-volunteer sergeant, was heard exclaiming, 
 
112 THE commissioner; OB, 
 
 "March! Right shoulders forward! Form in line, and make your 
 bows like men !'* 
 
 In the meanwhile Mr. Coroner had recovered himself, and was reve- 
 rently shaking the tips of the two fingers which the peer held out to 
 him, while the peer himself was pinching his own toe under the table, 
 to prevent himself from exploding. 
 
 " A sad affair this, Mr. Gregory," he said, " sad affair ;" and there- 
 upon he was seized with a fit of coughing, which served his purpose 
 very well ; for, under cover thereof, he got rid of a fit of laughter, 
 which might otherwise have thrown him into convulsions. 
 
 " Shocking, my lord, shocking !" cried Mr. Gregory, " to think of 
 such a fellow as that young Worrel daring to shoot your lordship's son : 
 but we'll manage him, my lord, we'll manage him — though, to say the 
 truth, I should not have ventured to hold an inquest in your lordship's 
 house, unless it had been by your own particular desire." 
 
 " Oh, of course we must have an inquest," said the peer, " and a 
 verdict of wilful murder and all that sort of thing. These gentlemen 
 wiU all see the thing in the right point of view, I am sure ;" and carry- 
 ing forward his stout stomach with a stately air to the side of the room 
 where the jury were ranged in their Sunday best, bowing with all their 
 might, he took Mr. Gamaliel Dickens by the hand, making him blush, 
 and simper, and cry, " Lank, my lord !" 
 
 " Of course, Mr. Dickens," said the peer, " you all know what you 
 come here for ?" 
 
 " To sit upon the yoong gentleman's boady," replied Mr. Dickens, 
 with a grin which the peer didn't at that moment understand. 
 
 " And to find a verdict of wilful murder against the man that killed 
 him, my good Gamaliel," rejoined Lord Outrun. 
 
 " Joost soa, joost soa, my lord," replied the bumpkin; "ony way 
 your lordship pleases.'* 
 
 " And you, Mr. Stubbs," continued the peer : " this is a very shock- 
 ing thing, indeed, Mr. Stubbs." 
 
 " Woundy shocking indeed," answered Mr. Stubbs. " I made the 
 young loard's leather geeaters : so hang me if I doan't hang him as shot 
 un." 
 
 " You are quite right, Mr. Stubbs," said the peer. " I dare say you 
 are all of one mind ?" 
 
 " Your humble servant to command," replied a third man upon the 
 line ; and the volunteer sergeant at the end making a military Salute, 
 the peer concluded the whole matter settled, and pointing to the door 
 that led into the dining-room, he said — 
 
 " There, Mr. Coroner, is your jury room ; and as you have doubtless 
 all come a long way, I have taken care that you should have where- 
 withal to pass the time of deliberation pleasantly. You will find roast 
 beef and brimming ale for the jurors, and a chicken for the coroner, 
 with a bottle of Madeira, which, by jingo — I mean upon my honour — 
 has gone twice round Cape Horn. This is all according to rule, I 
 think, Mr. Coroner." 
 
DE LLXATICO INQUIREKDO. 1)3 
 
 The coroner made a low bow, and his mouth got juicy at the thought 
 of the Madeira, but nevertheless he judged fit, at all events, to propose 
 a business-like plan, whether it was followed or not, and he asked, 
 " Had we not better view the body first, my lord ?" 
 
 " No," replied the peer in a solemn tone, " I think refreshment will 
 accuminate your discernment ;" adding, sotto voce^ " the chicken will 
 get cold." 
 
 " Oh !" said the coroner, and in he walked into the dining-room, 
 guided by a wave of the peer's hand. 
 
 " Dang it," said Stubbs to Dickens, in a low voice, as he followed 
 his commanding officers, and beheld a mighty sirloin still hissing and 
 crackling at the end of a long table, covered with resplendently white 
 damask. "Dang it, Dickens, I didn't know these quests was such 
 capital things. I hope there'll be a many more killed in the county." 
 
 " They is'nt all like this, I should think," said Dickens. 
 
 In the meanwhile the whole party advanced to the table, but a slight 
 embarrassment ensued from the fact of certain white napkins being laid 
 down between each knife and fork, concealing within the labyrinth of 
 their folds an excellent piece of white bread. 
 
 " What's this for ?" said Stubbs, as he took his place. 
 
 " To keep the bread cosy, 1 should think," said Dickens, looking 
 under his napkin. But at that moment all eyes M'ere turned upon the 
 volunteer serjeant, who was a man never embarrassed about any thing. 
 He saw the white napkin, he saw the fine red morocco chair ; he was 
 conscious that the garments of his nether man might not leave the 
 most delicate remembrance on the spot where it was placed. He re- 
 membered in his days of pipe-clay having imprinted his exact pro- 
 portions upon a horse-hair seat at his colonel's. With a rapidity of 
 combination indicative of the man of true genius, and \vithout the 
 slightest hesitation to betray ignorance or doubt, he seized the napkin, 
 unfolded it, spread it upon his chair, and sat down. Such is the force 
 of ease and self-confidence upon the minds of others, that every man 
 followed his example on the instant. Can we wonder that they did so, 
 having no knowledge whether he was right or not, when we every day 
 see, in the first legislative assembly in the world, large bodies of men 
 following any self-confident fool that will lead them, knowing him to 
 be wrong the whole time. 
 
 The coroner knew better, but he said nothing upon that score, only 
 commanded Mr. Gamaliel Dickens, in an authoritative tone, to say 
 grace like a Christian; which Mr. Dickens did accordingly, ex- 
 claiming — 
 
 " For this here coroner's inquest, Lord make us truly thankful." < 
 
 " Amen," said Mr. Stubbs, and down they sat again. 
 
 The servants, in the meanwhile, who were collected to help them, 
 nearly choked themselves with their fingers to prevent themselves from 
 roaring with laughter ; but having received a hint from their lord 
 that it was not particularly necessary the perceptions of the jury should 
 be very clear, they continued to supply them with abundance of good 
 ale till such time as the coroner himself thought fit to interpose, and to 
 
 C. — NO. IV. I 
 
114 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 give a hint that it was necessary they should view the body. Imme- 
 diately after these words were spoken, one of the attendants quitted 
 the room, and another, after conversing with the coroner, benignly 
 offered to show the jury the way, which they were certainly in no 
 condition to discover themselves. 
 
 For his part, the crown officer judged that it would be better to 
 suffer them to make their inspection without his presence — there being 
 yet about four glasses of Madeira in the decanter. The jury, there- 
 fore, trooped out, and the coroner remained with his wine, taking his 
 first glass leisurely enough, and picking his teeth between whiles : the 
 next glass was somewhat more accelerated ; but it had scarcely found 
 its way to his lips when the voice of Stubbs was heard, shouting 
 aloud from the top of the stairs — 
 
 " Mr. Crowner I Mr. Crbwner ! will you ha' the goodness joost to 
 step up and say whether I be to sit upon the boady or not — them 
 
 d d fellows won't let me get on. I came here to sit upon the boady, 
 
 and dang me if I won't, if I have law upon my side." 
 
 This speech was delivered in the tone of a deeply-injured person, 
 and the coroner exclaiming — " the idiots !" in a tone of sovereign 
 contempt, re-filled and re-emptied his glass, and rushed up stairs. 
 
 The scene that was presented to him at the door of Mr. Fitzurse's 
 room, was rather shocking. The assembled body of jurors filled up 
 the entrance, some of them looking flushed and indignant, some of 
 them looking bewildered, some of them rather merry. Two servants, 
 in the convulsions of smothered laughter, were keeping them off from 
 the bed of death, whereon, by the dim light of the half-closed shut- 
 ters, might be seen lying the outstretched form and pale face of the 
 Honourable Henry Frederick Augustus Fitzurse, with two copious 
 streams of a red colour distaining his brow and cheeks from a small 
 dark spot on his forehead. On the other side of the bed was beheld, 
 by the aid of a spirit lamp which threw a ghastly blue glare over the 
 whole apartment, a tall portly gentleman with a rosy countenance, 
 a powdered wig, with two rows of curls on each side of his head, and 
 a stout powdered queue behind. He was dressed in a close cut coat 
 of black, well powdered on the collar, a thick *white neckcloth, long 
 flapped black waistcoat, black silk breeches and stockings, and silver 
 buckles, a gold snuff-box in his hand, a cane hung at his wrist, and 
 although he was certainly a very good-looking elderly gentleman, no one 
 would have taken him for rollicking Tom Hamilton, unless they were 
 much better informed upon the subject than any of the jurors there 
 present. At the moment of the coroner's approach that most respect- 
 able personage was bending over the corpse of Mr. Fitzurse, aftecting 
 busily to smooth down some of the bed clothes, which one of the too 
 zealous jurymen had deranged in an effort actually to sit upon the 
 body. It was evident, however, that the surgeon — for the coroner 
 concluded at once that such must be the character of the personage 
 before him — it was very evident, I say, that the surgeon must have 
 been a dear friend to Mr. Fitzurse, for as he bent down his head he 
 was clearly affected by a spasmodic motion, and warm tears con- 
 tinued to fall upon the countenance of the corpse, over whom also, 
 
DE LtNATiCO INQUIBENDO. ' 115 
 
 he seemed to be muttering some prayer or ejaculation, as his lips 
 parted and a low murmuring was heard in the room. 
 
 In front, however, was a much more important person in the eyes 
 of the coroner ; being no other than the peer himself. Most unfortu- 
 nately, indeed, it happened, that the viscount had been seized at that 
 particular moment, with another violent fit of coughing which inter- 
 rupted him sadly. 
 
 " Take them away, coroner," he cried, " take them away, (cough, 
 cough, cough, cough) we've had quite enough of them, (cough, cough, 
 cough,) they've viewed the body, (cough, cough, cough,) and, by 
 jingo, now they want to sit upon it ! (cough, cough, cough.) 
 
 " Well, warn't I toald that I were to sit upon 'um," said Mr. Dickens. 
 " I want nothing more nor ^" 
 
 " Silence !" cried the coroner. " Have you viewed the body, gentle- 
 men?" 
 
 " Oh, ay, we've viewed 'un," said Stubbs, " but you see, Mr. 
 Coroner, " 
 
 " Well, if you have viewed it," said the coroner, who bore his drink 
 discreetly, " walk down stairs." 
 
 " Right shoulders forward," cried the ex- volunteer serjeant, " single 
 ifile, march ! and away they trooped at the word of command, nearly 
 timibling over each other in the rapidity of the descent. 
 
 The coroner brought up the rear — the door of the deceased gentle- 
 man's room was shut — and up started the corpse, holding both his 
 sides and roaring with laughter ! 
 
 " Hurra !" cried the disconsolate father, sinking into an arm-chair, 
 with his heels beating the ground, and his fat stomach heaving up and 
 down like a soufflet. 
 
 " Driven them from the field, by Jupiter !" cried the surgeon, hand- 
 ing a glass of punch out of the spirit lamp to the corpse ; " but 
 
 d n it, my lord, we must keep serious ; our part isn't played out 
 
 yet, and they have very nearly beaten us already. Why, if that fel- 
 low who would sit upon the body had been a little nearer he'd have 
 heard the chuckles in the dead man's stomach!" 
 
 " Lord have mercy upon us !" cried "the peer ; " it's capital ! But 
 come, Tom, as you say, we must get back our long faces. Give me 
 a glass of cold water ; if any thing will make me serious that will. 
 There now, that's sad enough ! Come now, Tom, let us go down and 
 give evidence. See that your wig's right, old fellow." 
 
 Tom went to a glass, adjusted his curls ; and while the Honourable 
 Henry Frederick Augustus took another ladle] full of the revivifying 
 fluid, the peer and his companion proceeded to the dining-room, where 
 the servants who had brought Mr. Fitzurse home from the scene of the 
 fatal affray, as the coroner termed it, were giving, unconsciously, a 
 false impression by their true evidence in regard to the death of their 
 respectable young master. 
 
 A little bustle ensued upon the entrance of the viscount and Tom 
 Hamilton, all the jurors rising, and pulling at the hair upon their 
 foreheads, while the two gentlemen took seats beside the coron*. The 
 evidence of the servants was soon concluded, and the crown officer 
 
1 16 THE COMMISSIONER j OR, 
 
 then turned to the peer, who took the opportunity of presenting Mr. 
 Heavitree, the famous surgeon. The coroner and Mr. Heavitree 
 bowed, and then the former inquired whether the viscount had any 
 information to give upon this melancholy occasion. 
 
 " I shall be very happy," answered his lordship with a rueful air, 
 " to answer any questions that may be asked of me." 
 
 " A hem !" said the coroner. " May I ask if you have any precise 
 information in regard to the person whose hand committed this sad 
 act ? As yet we have nothing but hearsay, for none of the witnesses 
 we have examined were present." 
 
 " Why," replied the peer, " I saw a challenge given to my son, 
 the night before last, from a young dog of the name of Worrel, and 
 so it is natural to conclude that he was the man who shot him." 
 
 " Precisely," replied the coroner with a sapient look. " Pray, my 
 lord, is your lordship aware of who was your son's second upon this 
 tragical expedition?" 
 
 I The peer cocked his eye at Mr. Heavitree with a look of inde- 
 scribable fun, and then replied, 
 
 " Oh, yes. I know quite well. A young rakehelly vagabond 
 fellow of the name of Hamilton, better known as Tom Hamilton the 
 Blazer, a desperate hand at the bottle and among the girls, a capital 
 shot, and rather fond of fishing. Never ask him to any of your 
 houses, gentlemen, for he'll drink you out a pipe of Madeira in no time. 
 He got the poor boy into a number of scrapes, and I dare say this was 
 all his fault if the truth were known." 
 
 The coroner took down all the particulars carefully, and after 
 putting a few more very pertinent questions, he turned to the jury 
 inquiring if they wished to ask his lordship any thing. 
 
 Up started Stubbs without more ado. 
 
 " Why, my lord," he said, with the usual tug, " I do wish to ax 
 your lordship one thing, which is — couldn't you just give us another 
 mug of that ere ale ? It's woundy dry work sitting here." 
 
 The coroner reproved him solemnly ; but the peer was more com- 
 placent and the ale was brought up ; upon which no farther questions 
 were asked by the jury. The coroner then turned to Mr. Heavitree, 
 and begged that he would make any statement he thought proper in 
 regard to the cause of death. 
 
 Tom now gave back the peer liis shrewd look and replied, 
 
 " I have examined the body of the deceased, and find a small wound 
 in the centre of the forehead, which is the only thing about him likely 
 to cause death that I can discover. It is not indeed very profound, 
 and on examining it I certainly did not reach the brain, but this, from 
 my knowledge of the deceased's family, did not surprise me, as that 
 organ in his noble house is ordinarily exceedingly small, and perhaps 
 in liis case may be wanting altogether." ' 
 
 " Whew!" cried the peer with a long shrill whistle. 
 
 *' My dear sir," said the coroner, " you forget his lordship's presence." 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha !" cried one of the bumpkins who took the joke and 
 seemed^ to enjoy it. 
 
 " I do not forget in the least,'' replied Tom Hamilton, imbibing an 
 
BE LUNATICO TXQUlBENBo. 117 
 
 enormous pinch of snufF and looking round with the contemptuous 
 superiority of a great siu*geon, who always seems to feel that our 
 bones, limbs, muscles, nerves, and arteries are all at his disposal, and 
 that he may cut us up morally and physically whenever he pleases. " I 
 do not forget at all, Mr. Coroner, nor is there any offence to his lord- 
 ship, there are many more men in the world without brains than you 
 know of. Now I will very willingly this moment bring down my cir- 
 cular-saw, and just take a little bit, not bigger than the'palm of my hand, 
 out of the skulls of the gentlemen here present, and I will answer for 
 it, that in two heads out of three you^ won't find four pennyweights of 
 brains !" 
 
 There was a general bustle amongst the jury and an evident ten- 
 dency to run towards the door, Dickens, who 'was a stout fellow, 
 muttering to himself — " I'll knock thee down, if thou touchest my 
 head !" 
 
 Tom Hamilton, however, proceeded in his character of surgeon — 
 
 " It is a very mistaken idea, Mr. Coroner, that people can't get on 
 in the world without brains. For my part I think, physiologically 
 speaking, the less brains a man has the better. Why I have known a 
 famous ministry keep off and on for ten years together, and not three 
 out of the whole party had any brains at all. But to return to the 
 matter in hand. My opinion is, that the state to which the Honourable 
 Mr. Fitzurse was reduced, as you have it in evidence, about six o'clock 
 yesterday morning, was, either by the rapid and violent propulsion of 
 some small hard substance — whether round or angular, 1 cannot take 
 upon myself to say — against the central part of the os frontis : or by 
 the violent and rapid propulsion of his os frontis against some small 
 hard substance — whether round or angular I have no means of knowing.'* 
 
 " That is to say," said the coroner, " that either a pistol ball came 
 and knocked a hole in his head, or he went and knocked his head 
 against a pistol ball ?" 
 
 " You will put what interpretation upon my words you please, sir," 
 replied the pretended surgeon with an air of profound wisdom, 
 " I have given my opinion ; and as this is a delicate matter I shall 
 say no more." 
 
 " Very right too," cried Stubbs ; " for my part, Mr. Crowner, I 
 think the matter's very clear. It's a case of manslaughter." 
 
 " Halloo !" cried Dickens. " Manslaughter ! I think it's summut 
 wuss than that." 
 
 " Why how can that be ?" cried Stubbs. " If it had been a woman 
 it would have been murder, but as it's a man it's manslaughter!" 
 
 " I vote for feely-de-se /" said a small tailor from the end of the 
 table ; and every man now put forth his opinion, each being different 
 from the other. Some insisted upon homicide, some upon murder, 
 some upon petty larceny. 
 
 The coroner then rose and obtained silence, in order to explain to 
 the gentlemen the real meaning of the various terms they had picked 
 up like children gathering pebbles on the sea shore, without knowing 
 what they really were. Being also primed and loaded by the worthy 
 viscount, he gave them very broadly to understand that their verdict 
 
^^ 
 
 l\$ THE commissioner; or, 
 
 must be one of murder, and was going on to mark clearly the distinc- 
 tions between that crime and any other, when a gentleman, of a very 
 thoughtful and considerate look, rose solemnly, scratched his head, and 
 said — 
 
 " Well, Mr. Crowner, I don't know but I can't make out that 
 
 hoale in his head !" 
 
 The matter had well nigh begun all over again. The coroner, how- 
 ever, stopped imperiously this system of trying back, and having so 
 explained the matter that he thought there was no possibility of the 
 men coming to any but one conclusion, he left it like other high 
 officers, in the hands of the jury. After a moment's consultation, 
 however, to his horror and astonishment the personage who acted as 
 foreman returned a verdict of " Wilful murder against the Honourable 
 Henry Frederick Augustus Fitzurse, and other persons unknown," 
 and to this they stuck in spite of all the coroner could say. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 »HE CHEVALIER DE tUNATICO TAKES AN EAHLY WALK — SOME OP HIS FIRST 
 
 IMPRESSIONS OP LONDON REPORTED JOEY PIKE RECOVERED THE CHEVALIER 
 
 ENTERTAINS A BEG&AR, AND IS INVITED BY A REVIEWER. 
 
 The Chevalier de Lunatico was an early man, and although the Golden 
 Cross, Charing Cross, is one of those houses in which one can practise 
 early habits with greater impimity than any where else, yet even there 
 he scared a dull housemaid on the stau-s, who was listening to some- 
 thing that Boots was saying with their faces very close together. 
 They both concluded that he must be the gentleman who was going 
 by the five o'clock heavy Bristol, and Boots began to inquke concern- 
 ing his luggage. 
 
 The chevalier, however, set him right ; and issued forth into the 
 streets of London, gazing round him with the curiosity which the 
 scenes ot the great metropolis might naturally produce. He had the 
 tairest opportunity in the world of studying proper names— which, let 
 me tell the reader, is no unimportant chapter in the natural history of 
 national character. There they stood, in long rows against the 
 boarded-up wmdows of the shops— sometimes bearing a clear or a 
 mystic relerence to the trades which were inscribed after them ; some- 
 times set up in fierce opposition to the sort of business which the 
 proprietors had chosen. There was Mr. Gold, the jeweller, and Mr. 
 fepratt, the fishmonger, and Mr. Woollen, the hosier, and Mr. Bond, 
 the law-stationer : while on the other hand, appeared Mr. Hogsflesh, 
 the perfumer, Mr. Boxer, the man-milliner, Mr. Silver-tongue, the 
 brass-founder, and Mr. Rotten, the pork-butcher. There wal a Mr. 
 Ramsbottom who dealt in lace, and on one door appeared Mr. Heavy- 
 sides, professor of dancmg. Mr. Stone dealt in feather-beds, and Mr. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQtJIRENDO. 119 
 
 Golightly in Chesliire cheeses. We could go a great deal farther, and 
 tell all the manifold curious nomens and cognomens that the chevalier 
 examined and noted down; but to say the truth the subject is a 
 delicate one, and — besides all the filthy and obscene names with which 
 Englishmen have thought fit to bedizen themselves, and which , made 
 Mr. de Lunatico judge that at least one half of the people ought to 
 remigrate to his own sphere — there may be many a one which might 
 offend some of our dearly beloved readers to have handled lightly, and 
 therefore we forbear. Onward went the chevalier however, with his 
 peculiar jaunty and inquiring look, remarking the various classes who 
 at that early hour take their way out, and begin the miseries and 
 labours of the day. But we must not trespass by our descriptions 
 upon the peculiar walk of any gentleman who has written upon the 
 humorous city of London ; for as in every other profession, particular 
 individuals are allowed to establish a right prescriptive in certain 
 walks, there is no reason why the same should not hold good with 
 authors also. Milkmen, pickpockets, women of the town, are all very 
 tenacious in this respect ; and although authors may be an inferior 
 class, as the government seems to think them, they may perhaps im- 
 prove by aping their betters. We will therefore simply give a few of 
 the chevalier's brief notes, recording his matutinal excursion through the 
 streets of the great metropolis. After commenting upon the names he 
 goes on. 
 
 " Mem. All men in London before six o'clock walk with their 
 shoulders up to their ears, and their hands in their pockets. Query — 
 Can they be afraid that if they took theirs out other people would put 
 their hands in ? N.B. — All I met were of a class which seemed to 
 have the least cause for fearing such a process. 
 
 " Mem. That the noses of all cobblers who live in stalls in London 
 are red, and turn up at the point. Query. — Can this proceed from^ 
 frequent hammering between the nose and the lapstone ? N.B. — It 
 is but natural the nose should keep itself out of the way. 
 
 " Mem. The quantity of cabbage consumed in London must be 
 immense. In Covent Garden alone I saw coming in enough to supply 
 the whole moon. N.B. — They must dress their cabbage in gin, for 
 there was a very strong smell of that fluid amongst all the people col- 
 lected to buy and sell. Mem. To try the experiment when I get 
 home. 
 
 " Mem. Saw a gentleman leaning against a post at the corner of 
 a street called Russell ; was hiccupping violently, and looking as if he 
 did not see very distinctly, nevertheless he was preaching to a mob of 
 boys around him who are picking his pocket. The sermon was 
 tolerable. He must have been a clergyman because he had on a black 
 coat. N.B. — The English clergymen preach in the open air. Query — 
 Do they always preach drunk?" 
 
 Now the reader may suspect that we are joking with him, and 
 say at once from his knowledge of such things, these are the notes of 
 a Frenchman, or of an American, and not of the Chevalier de Lunatico. 
 He would never generalize upon individual instances, or take up ideas 
 tastily, or conceive first impressions to be the true means of judging 
 
120 THE COMMISSIONER ; Ofi, 
 
 Nay, reader, I did not say that he relied upon these impressions. He 
 only took them down as they occurred that he might remember them 
 afterwards, but he did not publish them as facts till he had probed 
 their reality. Asking his way as he went, he proceeded without many 
 deviations from the right track, to the beavitiful precincts of Fetter- 
 lane ; and, on entering the narrow passage of the Black Dog, where the 
 people by this time were beginning to crawl about — the men with 
 their slippers on, and the women with their hair rolled tightly round 
 lumps of brown paper, he had the felicity of seeing his faithful fol- 
 lower, Joey, engaged in the pleasant morning occupation of making 
 somewhat warm and very graceful love to an extremely pretty barmaid, 
 upon whose cheeks, peeping through a thick coating of black smoke, 
 were seen lilies and roses which might have graced the country. If 
 difficulty of attainment be the measure of value, the fair barmaid was 
 certainly a prize worth having. She had despised bagmen, trampled 
 upon hucksters, and treated head-waiters with sovereign contempt. 
 But it was evident that she was not proof against Joey's perfect self- 
 complacency, which in almost every case is one of the most potent 
 weapons that can be employed against the female heart. Men fre- 
 quently rank another according to his estimation of himself, but women 
 always do. 
 
 Joey was not in the slightest degree abashed at being caught in the 
 fact ; indeed, the only thing on earth that could abash him would have 
 been any want of grace whatever. So long as he was Apollo in his 
 own eyes, he felt a glorious confidence in his powers that nothing 
 could shake. Awkwardness was the only bugbear of his imagination ; 
 and now as he happened to be leaning gracefully towards the right, 
 with his arm half encircling the waist of the fair barmaid, while it 
 seemed but leaning on the chair, his head lolling somewhat negligently 
 towards the left shoulder, and his eyes rolling languidly over the features 
 of the Fetter-lane beauty — one leg extended, and one^toe pointed — Joey 
 felt that the eyes of the whole world might rest upon him with satis- 
 faction to them, and applause to him. As soon as he beheld the 
 chevalier, with a simper of joyful satisfaction he withdrew his arm, 
 took three steps forward, laid his hand upon his heart, or rather his 
 velvet waistcoat, bowed profoundly, took a step backward, and bowed 
 again. Explanations were then entered into, with which it is unneces- 
 sary to trouble the reader ; and Joey in due form introduced the 
 chevalier as his master to the fair Elise de Tuppins, as he called the 
 pretty barmaid, who he informed Mr. de Lunatico was from his own 
 paese. Arrangements were made for Joey's immediate removal to the 
 Golden Cross, Charing Cross; and, taking a tender leave of Miss 
 Tuppins, he accompanied his master on his way thither. 
 
 The first object that presented itself to the chevalier on issuing'forth 
 from the door of the Black Dog, was a wretched being attired in an 
 old tattered pair of corduroy trowsers, through which his knees were 
 perceptible, without stockings and without shoes. The only other 
 covering that he seemed to possess was a sallow shirt little less torn 
 than his nether garment ; and with his hands under his arms to keep 
 them warm, treading tenderly upon the hard stones, he took his shiver- 
 
1>E LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. l2l 
 
 ing way along, as miserable a looking creature as it is possible to 
 behold. The chevalier's bowels of compassion were instantly moved. 
 " Is it possible," he exclaimed to himself, " that such misery can exist 
 in a capital of a country overflowing with wealth, plunged in luxury, 
 and loaded with splendour ?" 
 
 Putting his hand in his pocket, he instantly gave the poor wretch 
 half-a-crown, who replied in a tone of the deepest gratitude : — " God 
 bless your honour !" at the same time, however, he raised his 
 eyes to the face of the chevalier, and instantly compelled by the 
 commissioner's peculiar powers to display his real feelings, he rolled 
 his tongue into his cheek, winked his right eye most knowingly, and 
 said, " Well done, old covey, this will get me a pint of gin, and oyster- 
 sauce to my beefstake. We'll have a flare up to-night when my 
 woman comes home. She's out with Mother Gammon's two best 
 babies, and will bring home half-a-guinea at least.' 
 
 " Pray what do you mean by her two best babies ?" demanded the 
 chevalier in a sweet tone. 
 
 " Why, what a flat you are," said the poor unhappy mendicant ; 
 "but I'll tell you all about it. Why Mother Gammon has got twelve 
 or fourteen of them babies ; but Lord bless ye, some of 'em is not 
 worth nothing at all, great, fat, rosy things, that goes a laughing and 
 talking no how. But I says to my woman, says I, Vot's good's 
 always cheapest in the end. So you give sixpence a piece more for 
 the two best on 'em ; and capital babies they is. One's as yellow as 
 a guinea, and t'other's well nigh humpbacked, and they've had sitch 
 a hedecation that they'll set up a cry o' theirselves when they see a 
 soft chap at the end of the street. They've a natural instinct as 
 teaches them when a feller's a flat the moment they sees him ; so 
 they're well woth the money." 
 
 " Then in short," said the chevalier, " you're not quite so badly off" 
 as these rags would make you appear" 
 
 " Lord bless ye," cried the man, " I hires them duds, my own 
 toggery's all at home, only I chuse to be upon the loose lay just now, 
 'cause you see the mendicity folks had well nigh nabbed me when I 
 was in the literary department. I don't mind telling you all this, now 
 I've got your half-crown ; but I must be jogging, for there's the old cove 
 who walks regular to change along Fleet-street and Cheapside, who 
 never misses his shilling and that was reckoned against me when I 
 took the walk." 
 
 " And so," said the chevalier, " it is really a volimtary act of yours to 
 go shivering along in this sharp morning, enduring all the miseries of 
 utter destitution without the slightest occasion, when you might keep 
 yourself comfortably by honest labour without half these privations. I 
 must beg your acceptance of a ticket if you please. You must be 
 mad, my good sir." 
 
 The man put aside the ticket the chevalier offered him with the 
 back of his hand, replying in a tone of supreme contempt, " No, no, 
 none of that ere humbug, no tickets for me. Honest industry's all 
 my eye ; why, upon the loose lay I can make my half-guinea a-day 
 comfortable ; and in this cursed country I couldn't get half-a-crown 
 
122 THE commissioner; OB, 
 
 any other way, if I were to work my fingers to the bone. France is 
 the only country for a man of genius. I should have been one of the 
 ministers by this time if I'd have been born in France. I must wet 
 my whistle first, however ; so good morning to ye old un," and he 
 turned away. 
 
 "What does he mean by wetting his whistle?" demanded the 
 chevalier, turning to Joey Pike. 
 
 " Merely, eccelleneza, that he is going to take Quelque chose de 
 courte" replied Joey Pike ; and the chevalier walked on as wise as he 
 was before. 
 
 The beggar's last speech, however, put him in mind that he had a 
 letter for one of the ministers, and he determined, without fail, to 
 present it that day, as well as the other letters Mr. Longmore had sent 
 him. He, therefore, hurried his pace to get back, passing by some of 
 the most splendid shops in the world, now wide open and displaying 
 large sheets of plate-glass, each pane of which Joey Pike assured 
 him, would be a fortune for a poor man. 
 
 "How can they afford to make such a display?" demanded the 
 chevalier. 
 
 " Oh, they have two plans," replied Joey, " sometimes one obtains 
 success, sometimes the other. They charge their customers twenty 
 per cent, more for the plate-glass, or else they become bankrupt." 
 
 " But the latter is ruin," said the chevalier. 
 
 " Scoosy /" replied Joey Pike, " it is the first step towards making a 
 fortune. No tradesman ought to think of keeping more than a one- 
 horse chay before he becomes bankrupt, but afterwards he may set up 
 a pair." 
 
 " I suppose," rejoined the chevalier, " that the latter is the general 
 alternative then, for very few customers will be fools enough to give 
 twenty per cent, more for goods because they are exhibited behind 
 plate-glass." 
 
 " Pardonnez moi, monsieur y^^ replied Joey, in a sweet tone ; " I 
 believe they might put on thirty. We are all the slaves of our eyes ; 
 and as they say, one may catch larks with a mirror, so you may catch 
 customers in London with plate-glass." 
 
 " I think I shall beg of the proprietors," said the chevalier, " to put 
 up in the window, tickets for the moon to be had within." 
 
 " They would have a vente prodigious,^* said Joey : " people would 
 buy thousands of them out of mere curiosity." 
 
 " What ! would curiosity carry them to the moon ?" demanded the 
 chevalier. 
 
 " It has taken many a man and woman too to a worse place," said 
 Joey, and on the chevalier walked ruminating upon all he saw and 
 heard. 
 
 On his arrival at the Golden-cross he found Worrel seated with a 
 portly man of a dull and self- conceited countenance, who was instantly 
 introduced to him as Mr. Lillywhite, the editor of the well-known 
 Pansophisticon newspaper of science and literature. He loaded the 
 chevalier with civilities, gave him an invitation to his house, (which 
 the chevalier at once accepted,) and as he was taking leave whispered, 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 123 
 
 " K you could write something, exclusively, for our paper ; a letter 
 from abroad, a tour in the moon, the review of some of your prin- 
 cipal lunatic productions, a totally new view of astronomy, or, if you 
 have yourself dabbled in a literary way, a laudatory article of your 
 own work, we shall be delighted to give it insertion. Think of it, 
 think of it, we are capital pay. Think of it till we meet again. 
 Won't you and Mr. Worrel dine with me some day soon ?" 
 
 Worrel begged leave to decline, saying that his mind was not in a 
 state to enjoy society. But the chevalier accepted again, and the 
 worthy fat gentleman rolled out of the room. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 A QUESTION BEGARDINO LAURA LONGMOBE ANSWERED SHE IS FORGOTTEN BY 
 
 THOSE WHO OUGHT TO HAVE REMEMBERED HER SHE APPLIES TO THE BELL 
 
 AND PEODUCES TWO MAID SERVANTS THE REASON WHY THE MAIDS IN OUTRUN 
 
 CASTLE HUNTED IN COUPLES LAURA PASSES A DULL DAY AND FINDS THE NIGHT 
 
 COLD SHE REVERSES THE PROPOSITION OF GIVING UP THE GHOST IN HER 
 
 SPIRITUAL CAPACITY SHE KNOCKS DOWN JERRY TRIPE AND STRIKES A SPARK 
 OUT OF HIM. 
 
 And what had become of Laura Longmore all this time? The 
 question is certainly a very pertinent one and shall be answered as 
 speedily as possible. We left her, as the reader may remember — if not 
 exactly in her night-gear, certainly not much ;better clothed than when 
 she went to bed — in the midst of the state apartment of Outrun 
 Castle, wondering what she could be brought there for, and 
 troubling her brain to very little purpose to devise some motive for 
 the peer's conduct. Laura, as the reader perhaps may have some 
 suspicion, though a dear tender-hearted little creature with all the soft 
 graces and womanly sweetness that make a young girl of her years 
 the most pleasant thing on earth, had likewise a considerable portion 
 of good common sense, and — though she was certainly not more than 
 a-third of her father's age — she possessed at least three times his 
 knowledge of the world. She therefore speedily rejected the idea 
 which at first suggested itself to her mind under the influence of 
 terror, that the noble viscount had carried her off out of revenge for 
 the death of his son, and that he would inflict upon her some very 
 grievous punishment. She soon convinced herself that he had some 
 more worldly object in view, though what that was she could not 
 divine, and whether he intended to marry her himself or what else 
 he could possibly design to do with her was a question which puzzled 
 her very much indeed. She sat down in the gi'eat arm-chair before 
 the fire, she toasted the pretty little foot that was without a slipper 
 in the glow of the blazing logs, she looked back to the fine old bed- 
 stead with its magnificent hangings, she gazed at the large old trimk 
 fiUed with antique linen, and she ran her eye over the garments which 
 
124 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 had been hung up to air, and whichever way she turned she asked 
 herself with a bewildered mind, " What can it all mean ?" 
 
 She could make nothing of it, however : it seemed to her the most 
 strange and inconsistent act that ever was performed, and she was 
 fain to wait for the promised return of the noble lord in the hope of 
 obtaining some satisfactory explanation. As we have shown, how- 
 ever, for a considerable time his lordship forgot his charge altogether, 
 and in consultations and potations deep with his honourable son and 
 Tom Hamilton, spent nearly an hour, while poor Laura knew not 
 what to do, or which way to turn herself. The thing that decided 
 her was the fire getting low, for the large brown logs soon dwindled 
 down into long red firebrands, and the long red firebrands in time 
 sank into white powder and glowing embers. It is wonderful how 
 often habit acts much better than reason. Simply as a matter of 
 custom, on seeing that the fire was declining Laura put out her hand 
 seized the large embroidered satin bell-rope, and gave it a pull. This 
 act instantly produced a, sound such as no other bell-rope in the house 
 would have called forth. The bell with which it corresponded was a 
 very old one, but unlike many other old belles, it had a very sweet 
 and silvery, but solemn voice, soft, yet penetrating, so that, although 
 it rang at a great distance in the housekeeper's room, Laura herself 
 heard it, and started she did not well know why. 
 
 At the moment that Laura pulled the bell-rope three maids were in 
 the housekeeper's room giving the respectable functionary to whom it 
 belonged an opportunity of playing first fiddle in a gossiping concert. 
 All four started and looked up at the bell, and the housekeeper 
 exclaimed, 
 
 " It's the state-room bell ! Run up, Jane, and see what the young 
 lady wants." 
 
 Jane hesitated, and looked as if she would rather not, and the house- 
 keeper, who had a fund of compassion for all human infirmities, and 
 was just such a jolly old soul as might be supposed to act in good 
 harmony with Mr. Jeremy Tripe, added, observing her doubtful look, 
 
 " Well, you foolish girl, if you're afraid, Nelly will go, she's a heart 
 of oak, and would defy any ghost in Christendom !" 
 
 " Please, ma'am, I'd rather Sarah went with me," said Nelly Thom- 
 son, notwithstanding the courage which the housekeeper ascribed to 
 her, and so it was settled, Sarah, otherwise Sally, accompanying Miss 
 Thomson to the state chamber, each looking forward with very wide 
 eyes along the passages after they had passed a certain turn of the 
 staircase. 
 
 " Lawk, Sally, how you are a puffing," said Nelly Thomson, as they 
 approached the door ; why there's nothing to be afraid on." 
 
 " I don't know that," said Sally, in a solemn tone ; " and if there 
 ain't, why did you make me come with you, Nell ?" 
 
 Now let us pause to hold up our hands and eyes in astonishment at 
 the wonderful precision, accuracy, and brevity of this our history, 
 which contains not a word that will not be found in the end absolutely 
 necessary to the right understanding of the story. It is miraculous, 
 it is sublime, it is transcendental ; we are lost in admiration of our- 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIREKDO. 125 
 
 selves. Let not the reader vainly think, when he finds what he 
 imagines a superfluous description, an incident that seems unnecessary, 
 a character that appears to hang loose, an imcalled for elaboration, 
 a stupid piece of philosophy, a longueur in short of any kind ; let 
 him not vainly suppose that it was without its object, but strangling 
 the incipient yawn between his teeth, let him look forward to the 
 climax, to the consummation of the whole, where he will find that 
 the most minute circumstance, the most trifling word, down to tlie 
 redness of Jerry Tripe's nose to an " an" to a " the" bear directly 
 and strikingly upon the end in view. 
 
 Did we not, dear reader, tell you, as we described the approach of 
 the Chevalier de Lunatico on his visit to Outrun Castle, that one wing 
 of the house was in utter darkness ? Did we not describe a certain 
 ruinous look about the place ? Did we not endeavour to produce 
 in your mind that feeling of awful expectation which is created by the 
 blue lights in Don Giovanni just before the ghost appears ? and could 
 we have any other object in view than that of preparing you to hear 
 that the dark wing of the castle had the terrible reputation of being 
 haunted ? 
 
 Such, then, was the case with the whole of that suit of rooms, 
 passages, galleries, corridors, and staircases, of which the state 
 apartment was the first, and such was the cause of the agitation and 
 alarm exhibited by the two maidens. Presenting themselves, then, 
 in a couple to poor Laura Longmore, they dropped two curt'seys 
 one rapidly following the other, and asked her what she wanted. 
 
 " In the first place," she said, " I want some more wood upon the 
 fire, and in the next place, I want to know if Lord Outrun is coming, 
 as he promised, to give me some explanation of the conduct pursued 
 towards me." 
 
 " I'll see directly, Miss," said Nelly Thomson. 
 
 " I'll see directly. Miss," said her companion, in a still more nervous 
 and agitated tone. 
 
 Both went out for a moment, both came in again bearing a large 
 basket of wood, both made up the fire, and both once more retreated, 
 taking care to lock the door behind them. Proceeding immediately 
 in search of the viscount, they found that he was in the chamber of 
 the ex- corpse, and thither Nelly Thomson and Sarah took their way : 
 Nell, who was in the secret, understanding the whole matter very well ; 
 but Sarah, who was in the dark respecting Mr. Fitzurse's resuscitation, 
 thinking it very odd that her lord, who was not fond of grave subjects, 
 should keep company with his dead son more than necessary. Her 
 surprise was still more increased on hearing loud peals of laughter 
 proceeding from the chamber of death. Being, really, a good and 
 feeling girl, she paused upon the stairs, while her companion went 
 on and knocked at the door. Thereupon, in about a minute the peer's 
 head was protruded, demanding what the devil she wanted. On 
 hearing her errand he seemed surprised, and it must be owned a little 
 shocked. 
 
 " By jingo, I had forgot her altogether," he exclaimed — poor little 
 soul, what's to be done ? D — n it, take her up a bottle of Madeira 
 
126 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 and a cold fowl, or something of that kind. Tell her to make herself 
 comfortable, and go to bed and sleep, and Vl\ come and see her 
 to-morrow." 
 
 The maid did as she was bid, still accompanied by Sarah ; and poor 
 Laura Longmore having no other resource, followed the peer's advice 
 so far as going to bed was concerned. The next day proved a very 
 unsatisfactory one to her ; for, although she received every attendance 
 and comfort that maid-servants could give her — though breakfast, 
 dinner, coffee, tea, and the peer's grand panacea of champagne, were 
 liberally supplied — Lord Outrun came not himself, nor did he send 
 any message. The door was regularly locked upon her ; and neither 
 threats, entreaties,"persuasions, nor promises, would induce the maids 
 to give her the means of escaping from the durance in which she was 
 held. 
 
 Partly by way of amusing herself, partly from the necessity of her 
 case, Laura was obliged to examine a portion of the contents of 
 the large trunk which had been brought in to the state chamber, and 
 apply some of the apparel that it contained to her own use — smiling 
 at the quaint and antiquated form of the garments, and taking care to 
 cover the whole that she thought fit to put on, with her own smart little 
 dressing-gown. The greater part of the day was passed at the window, 
 which looked over the park, but which afforded not the slightest pros- 
 pect of escape, so high was it from the ground. 
 
 For some hours the poor prisoner kept up her spirits pretty well ; 
 but as night came on she began to get low and melancholy, and imagi- 
 nation filled the chamber with spectres of many unpleasant things. 
 Now, let not the reader make a mistake: the spectres that she sa^ 
 were not of the kind that the maid-servants of Outrun Castle dreaded ; 
 for Laura had lived too long amongst telescopes and electrical machines 
 to have any very great respect for ghosts. No : she saw Harry Worrel 
 surrounded with all sorts of difficulty, dangers, and discomforts — she 
 saw him in agony at her loss, and she appreciated very justly, from 
 the feelings of her own heart what were actually the feelings of his. 
 She saw her father's despair at the idea of her death, and she was 
 grieved to think that that despair would be aggravated by the know- 
 ledge that his last acts towards her had not been those of kindness. 
 It was with visions of this kind that she peopled the room ; and as 
 she sat watching the embers of the fire, while hour after hom* of dark- 
 ness went by, she felt cold and chilly, and tried in vain to warm herself 
 by piling up the wood till it blazed on high. She was still in hopes 
 that Lord Outrun would keep his promise. She knew that his habits 
 were late, and she was, consequently, not disposed to go to bed till all 
 chance of the visit was over. She looked round, therefore, for some- 
 thing to cast over her shoulders, and remembering the box of old 
 apparel, she went to it, and searched for something that might shelter 
 her from the cold. After removing two or three articles of lace and 
 linen, she came to what seemed to have been a ball dress of light 
 grey satin, cut in an antique shape, of a fashion even more remote 
 than the rest of the apparel, and close imderneath it a small black 
 mantilla with a hood, which she instantly seized upon as the thing she 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 127 
 
 wanted. Before she put it on, however, she stood for a moment con- 
 templating the satin dress, and, as in moments of temporary depression, 
 the monitory convictions which all arrive at in the end of their days 
 of the vanity of our joys, and the still greater vanit}^ of our amuse- 
 ments, come, like dark shadows, into the sunshiny presence of 
 youth, even gay and happy Laura Longmore — happy in the cheerful 
 summer of an innocent heart — asked herself sadly who was the being 
 who had borne that garment to ball or pageant, of play or merry- 
 making — who was she? what had been her fate? where was she now? 
 It seemed as if the mantilla and the gown had been laid by immedi- 
 ately after having been worn, and she was seized with a strong desire 
 of putting them on together, which, as there was nothing to prevent it, 
 she soon accomplished, and then gazed at herself in the large cheval glass, 
 and smiled to see what a quaint old figure she had made of herself. 
 
 " Now," she thought, "if Lord Outrim comes, I s)iall be dressed to 
 receive him;" and down she sat again before the fire, and waited till 
 the clock chimed the half hour. 
 
 " Half-past eleven I" said Laura to herself; " he will surely not come 
 now. It is very cold: I wonder where that wind comes from. It 
 blows in with a terrible draught." 
 
 Thus thinking, she rose and approached the side of the room from 
 which the current of air seemed to proceed. The chamber was lined 
 with large panels of old oak, bordered with immense garlands of very 
 well carved flowers, and where the draft came from became evident 
 in a moment. There was a key-hole big enough to have satisfied any 
 lord chamberlain in Europe, and an ebony handle, which, from its 
 colour, Laura had not distinguished from the rest of the old carving. 
 Her heart beat when she saw it ; but do not let the reader suppose that 
 the pretty little heroine of this chapter was one of those ladies who 
 coidd faint with apprehension at the sudden sight of a brass knocker, 
 or even the ebony handle of a lock. Her heart beat, but it was with 
 the thought that this key-hole and this handle might give her the means 
 of making her escape. 
 
 " They may, not have locked this door," said Laura to herself, 
 " though they have locked the other ;" and instantly putting her hand 
 upon the friendly ebony, she turned it with some little difficulty, 
 pushed gently, and the door opened without resistance. 
 
 Before her lay a short corridor, and by the dim light that suddenly 
 flashed down it from the room in which she was, she saw clearly 
 enough to distinguish that there was the balustrade of a staircase at the 
 end. Laura had well nigh clapped her hands with joy, but just at that 
 moment, a distant door banged, and saying to herself " He is coming," 
 she closed the door with all speed, and getting back to her chair, sat 
 down by the fire, and looked as demure as possible. 
 
 All was silent, however, and though Laura remained in the same 
 position for at least a quarter of an hour, not the slightest sound gave 
 warning of the .approach of any one. 
 
 " I will see where that leads to before I sleep," said Laura ; " and 
 though, perhaps, I cannot get away to-night, I will not be long ere I 
 find an opportunity." 
 
128 THE COMMISSlONEll ; OK, 
 
 She waited a quarter of an hour more, and then after having 
 counted the clock strike twelve, she rose, and as the first precaution, 
 bolted the principal door of the room in the inside. 
 
 " He will never come now," she thought, " and if he do, he will 
 think I am in bed and asleep." 
 
 The next question was, should she take with her a little hand lamp 
 which the maids had left with her to burn during the niglit, but she 
 instantly negatived this in her own mind, saying, " the candles will throw 
 light enough down the passage for the first attempt ; I can come back 
 for the lamp if I need it." Siie then opened the lesser door cautiously, 
 placed a chair against it to keep it from closing behind her, and after 
 listening for a moment or two with a throbbing bosom, but without 
 hearing any sound, she advanced with a gliding stealthy pace along 
 the corridor, and reached the top of the staircase. There was a tall 
 window above it, through which the moon was now streaming clearly, 
 and by her bright light Laura descended slowly till she- came within 
 two or three steps of the bottom. At that instant, however, a door 
 exactly opposite burst suddenly open, and a stout, jovial-looking man, 
 with a long red nose, rushed in with a light in his hand. The first 
 thing that presented itself to his eyes was Laura, in her old-fashioned 
 grey satin gown, and black mantilla, with the hood drawn over her 
 head, and the clear moonlight streaming full upon her. For an instant 
 she stood rivetted to the step, as if turned into marble, but the next 
 moment recovering her presence of mind, she determined to ask for 
 the viscount, and waving her hand with graceful dignity, she said, in 
 her sweet silvery voice, "Tell me where is — " 
 
 She got no farther, however, before Jerry Tripe, who had stood 
 shivering and gazing at her with a face that had but one red spot left 
 in it, let fall the lamp, sank upon his knees, and, clasping his hands, 
 exclaimed," Oh, my lady, ma'am ! I haven't got it ! It's old Sca- 
 pulary — he that's murdered !" and down he fell upon his face in a 
 fainting fit. 
 
 Laura, at once comprehended [that she was taken for a ghost, and 
 although the words she had heard excited her curiosity not a little, she 
 was wise enough to take advantage of the moment of the butler's 
 fainting, to dart up the stairs again like lightning, and run along the 
 corridor to her own room. She paused, however, to secure the key 
 which was on the outside of the door, and just as she was closing it, 
 the wisdom of the course she had pursued was proved to her satis- 
 faction, by a thick jolly voice ascending from the stairs she had just 
 quitted in somewhat drunken tones, and exclaiming, " Conie, Jerry, 
 
 give us t'other bottle — my lord will never know — why d n, it's 
 
 tripped his heels ! — He's drunk ! — Ha ! ha ! ha ! — Whoever saw good 
 liquor get the better of Jerry Tripe before ?" 
 
 Laura stayed to hear no more, but closed the door, locked it, hid 
 the key in the most secret place she could find, and putting by the grey 
 satin dress and mantilla carefully for further use, went to bed, and 
 remained thinking what the butler's words could mean, till she fell 
 asleep. 
 
//^^-^ '-^-"y?/^^ 
 
DE LUNATICO I^^QUIIlENPO. 129 
 
 CHAPTER XXir. 
 
 THE EYILS OF LACKEYISM — A DISCOURSE WITH THE MINISTER ARGUMENTATION 
 
 UPON WAYS AND MEANS THE SWEETS OF OFFICE, 
 
 Pray, reader, put on your seven-league boots, and take four 
 steps with them from Outrun to London. The despondency imder 
 which poor Worrel laboured, as we before described, seemed rather 
 to increase than to diminish ; and when Mr. Lillywhite was gone, the 
 chevalier turning round beheld him with his eyes covered over by 
 his hand, plunged into a deep and painful reverie. It grieved the kind 
 heart of our commissioner not a little to see him in this state ; but 
 being a wise and prudent man, he knew that grief must have its way for 
 a certain time, and although he resolved to reason with him on the sub- 
 ject, he thought it would be best to postpone his homily till such time as 
 he could talk with him more at large : it being now his purpose, as we 
 have hinted, to go at once to pay a visit to one of the ministers. 
 Breakfasting hastily, the chevalier procured a conveyance and rolled 
 away to the house of the great man, desiring rather to see him in 
 his own private residence than at his office. Joey Pike was upon the 
 box of the coach, and took pains to announce his master as " Son 
 Excellence le Chevalier de Lunatico ;" but if there be any truth in 
 the old proverb of like master like man, our worthy friend did not 
 seem likely to meet with a very cordial reception. The minister's 
 servant gazed over Joey with a cold, stiff, supercilious look — such as 
 some hard old Etruscan in bronze might be supposed to put on when 
 viewing the Venus de Medici. He only deigned at first to utter two 
 words which were, " By appointment ! '* and receiving a negative, 
 he added three more, " Not at home!" After which he was shutting 
 the door in order to retire to his arm-chair in the hall window, 
 without even waiting to see if the carriage drove off. 
 
 " Stop a moment," said the chevalier, putting his head out and 
 speaking in a tone of authority. " Be so good as to take that note to 
 your master immediately, and that card, and tell him that the gentle- 
 man who gave them to you is Malting his leisure." 
 
 " But, sir ," said the servant in a tone considerably more humble. 
 
 " Don't hut me, sir," replied the chevalier in an imperious manner, 
 very well knowing how to deal with a Jack-in-office ; " don't but me, 
 but do as I order you." 
 
 The porter turned to a man out of livery who was now appearing 
 through a pair of folding doors, and delivered over to him the note, 
 the card, and the message. The other retired with it, and soon after 
 re-appeared, inviting the chevalier in courteous tones to come in. Mr. 
 de Lunatico descended from the vehicle with a slow and sedate step — 
 made a few observations to Joey Pike in a low tone, as if he were 
 giving him orders upon which the safety of the universe depended— 
 c. — NO. V. K 
 
130 THE COMMISSIONEK ; OR, 
 
 and then entered 'the house with a grave and thoughtful air, seeming 
 scarcely to see that there were two such beings on the earth as the 
 lackeys who now stood reverentially at the- doors. The reader will 
 clearly perceive by all this that the chevalier was an old diplomatist. 
 The lackeys, however, had their revenge, for they showed him into an 
 anteroom, where he was doomed to wait for a full hour ; while the 
 great man, who was very busy with a pet spaniel bitch, concluded the 
 affairs of the morning to his own satisfaction. At length, however, he 
 received a summons ; and the servant who conveyed it was disap- 
 pointed to find that the commissioner, having met with paper, pens, and 
 ink upon the table, was just as busily engaged as if he had been in his 
 own writing-room. Four sheets had he covered with his own parti- 
 cular language ; and after deliberately folding them up and putting 
 them into his pocket, he followed to the room of the minister. 
 
 We will not describe him minutely, as the chevalier has done : for, 
 although we have before asserted, and repeat, that every individual 
 herein mentioned — except the chevalier, Harry, Laura,' Joey, and 
 Tom Hamilton — ^from the beggar of a few pages back to the minister 
 at present under our hands, is defunct, dead, gone to his ancestors 
 — and every one has ancestors of some kind, such as they are — yet, as 
 the charitable public is so fond of fitting every man with a cap, 
 Avhether it be his own or not, we should doubtless have Mr. de 
 Lunatico's description clapped upon the head of some poor little, 
 unoffending minister, and patted down to make it fit the better. 
 
 The honourable secretary received his visitor with cold and froglike 
 civility, looked at him askance, and begged him to be seated. Doubt- 
 less, he thought he was come to ask him some favour, and got all his 
 prickles up like a hedgehog, to repel him at every point. But scarcely 
 had he set eyes upon him, when the chevalier's powers began to have 
 their effect : an unwilling smile came upon his countenance ; and he 
 who had never for the last ten or twelve years of his life displayed 
 his own motives and purposes to any one — no, not to himself, — felt an 
 irresistible desire to pour them all forth into the ear of his new acquaint- 
 ance without concealment or reserve. After inquiring about the health of 
 his old acquaintance, Mr. Longmore, he proceeded to ask what brought 
 Mr. de Lunatico to London; and, on hearing that it was to inquire 
 into the habits and character of the people in general, he shook his 
 head with a laugh, saying, " You will find us a sad mad race, 
 chevalier." 
 
 " So I suppose," answered the chevalier drily. 
 
 " Oh yes," continued the minister, " there is every sort of madness 
 in England, which makes the English people the most easily governed 
 upon the face of the earth by any man who knows how to turn their 
 insanities to his own advantage." 
 
 " Indeed!" said the chevalier. " I had heard that you found it rather 
 more difficult to manage them, and were very likely soon to be driven 
 from office." 
 
 "jOh, dear no!" replied the minister; "we have a thousand shifts 
 
 et untried ere it comes to that. The fact is, we have let agitation 
 
 yet to a somewhat low pitch lately, which is a great error certainly ; 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIUENDO. l3l 
 
 for, as we live by exciting the passions of the people, we ought never 
 to let them cool for a moment." 
 
 " And, pray, how came you to commit this oversight?" asked the 
 chevalier. 
 
 " Why," replied his companion, " the fact is, the people were 
 starving, so some of ray poor foolish colleagues thought it necessary 
 to let them have a little repose, with a view to the revival of trade ; 
 for agitation, you know, is utterly destructive of commerce and 
 national prosperity. But what signifies to us, my dear sir, com- 
 merce, or national prosperity, or any thing else of that kind, so 
 that we ourselves keep in, and exclude the other party ? That is 
 the grand object of a statesman's laudable ambition. I say laudable 
 advisedly ; for, although there be some fools who blame this pertina- 
 cious adherence to place, and think that no man ought to sacrifice the 
 great interests of the country for the purpose of maintaining himself 
 in power, yet I am perfectly ready to show that he is not only justified 
 in so doing, but most extremely praiseworthy also." 
 
 " I do not see the process by which you could arrive at such a con- 
 clusion," replied the chevalier. 
 
 " The simplest in the world," answered the statesman. " I fully 
 and firmly believe that the measures and the principles of myself and 
 my friends are those which alone can insiu*e the maintenance and 
 extension of political liberty in this coimtry. We look upon political 
 liberty to be the great paramount object to be desired, and, conse- 
 quently, it is perfectly right and expedient in us to maintain ourselves 
 in power by any means, as the only possible way of carrying out those 
 principles which we hold to be indispensable. It is for this cause that 
 we liave sufiered ourselves to be driven one way by one body of 
 men, another way by another — that we have purchased their support 
 by conceding every thing that we once opposed as heinous and wrong, 
 and that I am ready myself to-morrow, seeing that it is abso- 
 lutely necessary to get up a new agitation, to array class against class, 
 and put myself at the head of an onslaught upon one of the most 
 influential and estimable bodies of the people, in order that, carried for- 
 ward by the current, we may still ride on the top of the wave, even 
 though we have no power of directing its coiu^se." 
 
 "But do you not think," said the chevalier, "that such a step may 
 produce revolution and anarchy, and give that faction which I find is 
 called the Paperists — who are now considered little better than madmen 
 — an opportunity of venting their fury upon all institutions whatsoever, 
 and overturning all things ?" 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," replied the minister; "it may come to that at 
 last : but, if it does, we will throw the blame upon our opponents, and 
 say that it was their resistance of all rational reform, their adherence 
 to monopoly and class interest that did all the mischief." 
 
 " But you yourselves will know better," said the chevalier. " You 
 will be aware that it was for the sole purpose of keeping yourselves in 
 power that you created an excitement and agitation which was to end 
 in such desperate consequences." 
 
 " Oh, dear no," replied the statesman ; " we shall Ijave np difficulty 
 
132 THE commissioner; OB, 
 
 in persuading ourselves that we acted with the most disinterested and 
 liberal views. I have written and spoken a thousand times against the 
 very measures I am now about to propose; but I have now fully 
 convinced myself that the time is come for adopting them ; besides, it 
 will be a long time, in all probability, before the riot and anarchy you 
 talk about takes place. Things will last our day, I don't doubt, and 
 that is quite enough for us. Let us live our time, and apres nous, le 
 deluged 
 
 *' May I ask," said the chevalier, " if it be not an impertinent ques- 
 tion, whether you have any qualms of conscience, or any misgivings in 
 regard to the perfect sapience of your schemes and purposes ?" 
 
 " Qualms of conscience !" exclaimed the minister. " Oh no ! Such a 
 thing as that is quite out of the question. He is but a chicken states- 
 man who can experience such foolish things as qualms of conscience. 
 If a piece of business goes wrong — if two or three thousand farmers 
 are ruined — if a score or two of merchants break — if an army is swept 
 away by pestilence or the sword — if a set of misguided men choose to 
 take up something which I have said in a speech, break out into insur- 
 rection, and get themselves shot — if a town is half burnt down by the 
 mob, following out the doctrine of agitation a little farther than is 
 expedient, what is that to me ? I have nothing to do with it : I did 
 the best I could under circumstances, and I don't care a straw for what 
 comes after. As to entertaining any misgivings, that would be more 
 foolish still. I am not a man, depend upon it, to have any doubt of my 
 own capabilities. There is nothing I entertain any hesitation upon in 
 the world. I am quite ready at any time to make up my mind 
 on any subject under the sun. Give me half an hour, and I 
 will draw up a bill for remodelling in toto the English constitu- 
 tion — and no fear if I do so but that I shall find plenty of reasons 
 wherewith to defend that bill in parliament, as well as plenty of 
 people ready to support it. Nothing like a coup de maitre in such 
 things : there is something bright and brilliant in acting boldly and 
 without hesitation. Besides, our party have a great advantage in 
 the com-se we are pursuing. As we always profess to be friends of 
 progress, there is no reason why we should not condemn a measure 
 most bitterly one year, and advocate it the next. We can always say 
 that the time is come for granting what was before denied. Thus we 
 have but one thing on earth to consider, and that is, whether the thing 
 that is proposed is convenient to us. You will easily see that no great 
 time is necessary to decide such a question as that." 
 \ " Assuredly n©t," replied the chevalier ; " but let me ask, although 
 you seem to consider your tenure of office as perfectly secure, what 
 would you do, what plan would you follow, if your opponents were to 
 be successful, and were to snatch from you the power which you have 
 held so long ?" 
 
 " I don't think they could hold it for six weeks," replied the minister. 
 ** In the first place, they would find the country plunged into such 
 a sea of embarrassments, our foreign relations so entangled, our 
 commerce so depressed, our public burdens so heavy, our revenue 
 so deficient, our expenditure so increased, that it would be utterly 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 133 
 
 impossible for them to keep the state going without offending some 
 of the very classes by whom they are supported. For the last 
 ten years we have been in a leaky boat in which we have made ten 
 holes, while we have patched up one, and now the vessel is so nearly 
 up to the gunnel that I defy any new men to keep her afloat. Besides, 
 if we found we were going, we should of course contrive to increase 
 the embarrassments for our successors ; so as to drive them into some 
 odious measures at once. We would sweep up every crumb of pa- 
 tronage, and even, if possible, forestal it ; and we would take care 
 to go out upon some measure which would give us an opportu- 
 nity of agitating the country from end to end. Thus we would 
 secure unpopularity to our adversaries, popularity to ourselves, and 
 the means of always saying, < You see, you have been able to do 
 nothing more than we did.' " 
 
 " Place and power must certainly be very delightful," said the 
 chevalier. 
 
 The minister paused doubtfully, murmuring at length, " I suppose 
 they are ; and yet the labour, and the trouble, and the ceaseless petty 
 annoyances, the continual wretchedness of an office by day, and the 
 wordy warfare of a house of parliament by night, are not things which 
 are very much to be desired, especially when the salary is but a mere 
 trifle, not half so much in fact as every doctor and every lawyer makes 
 without half the trouble and annoyance: but then again, my dear 
 chevalier, there is the gratification of the two strongest principles in 
 our nature — pride and vanity. To be the great man, to bestow little 
 favours on those who support us, to browbeat or treat with cold con- 
 tempt the vast multitude of those we love not, to be looked up to with 
 fear and trembling by thousands of hungry expectants, to have an 
 opportunity of mortifying the vanity of multitudes of our dear friends 
 
 O yes, believe me, there is a charm about power which makes it 
 
 well worth possessing. But now, my dear chevalier, I must leave you, 
 for it is time I should go to my office. When will you dine with 
 me ? You are a very clever man I see, and I am quite sure a liberal 
 at your heart. Is it not so ?" 
 
 " Oh, we are all liberal in my country," replied the chevalier. " It 
 is the native land of liberalism, and we give ready welcome amongst 
 us to all those men who think that people who can neither read nor 
 write, nor compound a common sentence in their mother tongue, are 
 fit to select legislators. A number of other classes not quite so 
 decided in their views, are also popular amongst us when they are 
 sincere ; but I fear you gentlemen who only use liberalism as a means 
 to an end would not be treated with the same civility." 
 
 " Indeed 1" said the statesman. " Nevertheless, I should like to 
 talk the subject over more fully, if you will give me an opportunity. 
 When can you dine with me ? To-morrow is a cabinet dinner day, 
 so we cannot admit you ; but the day after, if you are disengaged, at 
 a quarter before eight." 
 
 " I will not fail," replied the chevalier ; and taking the hint to 
 depart, he bowed and left the statesman to proceed upon his avoca- 
 tions. 
 
134 THE commissioner; ok, 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 ONE SYSTEM OV EEVIEWINa— WOBREL HINTS THAT THERE ARE OTHER ONES AND 
 
 BETTER A VISIT TO A POLICE OFFICE WORSHIPFUL EQUITY NEWS FROM 
 
 THE COUNTRY THE CHEVALIER BEGINS TO SEE DAY LIGHT. 
 
 On returning from the house of the minister to the Golden Cross, Char- 
 ing Cross, the chevalier found his young companion, Worrel, precisely 
 where he had left him, with his head leaning on his hand, and his eyes 
 fixed upon the table, tearless, but full of sorrow. 
 
 " My dear young friend," said the chevalier, in a kindly and feeling 
 tone, " I grieve with you and for you ; but, indeed, you must not in- 
 dulge in this sadness — for a time you cannot be expected to do other- 
 wise ; but if it goes on in this manner, rather increasing than 
 diminishing, I shall be obliged, against my will, to give you a billet 
 for the moon 1" 
 
 Worrel smiled faintly. 
 
 "I shall be very much obliged to you," said he; ''for in another 
 sphere I might, perhaps, learn to forget." 
 
 " Oh, no," answered the chevalier, " such is not the case. Life is 
 remembrance ! Did we forget in another world that which we have 
 known in this, we might as well, to all intents and pm^poses, be dif- 
 ferent beings. But what I mean to say is, simply, that grief, when 
 long indulged and pampered, is lunacy. When at the end of your life 
 — where you may hope to meet her you love again — if you look back 
 to this moment, the intervening space which now seems so long, will 
 dwindle to a point, and you will find how foolish it was to repine at 
 such a short period of separation." 
 
 Worrel shook his head ; for the moony consolations of the cheva- 
 lier had as little effect upon him as those of this earth in general. 
 He resolved, however, to make an effort, and rising from the table, 
 he said — 
 
 " Well, I will do my best to occupy my mind. I will go out with 
 you, if you like, to the office of the Pansophisticon, and see Mr. 
 Lillywhite. 
 
 *' He seems a very good-humoured, stupid sort of person," said the 
 chevalier. 
 
 "^ " Stupid enough," replied Worrel, " but good-humoured he is not ; 
 for in thai fat carcase lies as much malice as would furnish forth forty 
 reviewers ; ht has not wit enough to wield it himself, but he finds plenty 
 to help him ; and, most likely, just at this hour, there will be a little 
 knot of them gathered together who may afford you some amusement." 
 According to the elegant expression of one of our fine wits, the 
 chevalier; as our readers know, was " up to any thing from pitch- 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 135 
 
 and-toss to manslaughter ;" and in five minutes he and Worrel were at 
 the door of what was called the office of the Pansophisticon. 
 
 They were admitted tO a small parlour behind the office, where they 
 found, seated in the chair of state, and with his hat on, Mr. Lillywhite 
 himself; while round about the table were grouped a party of gentlemen, 
 with keen and hungry faces, all looking very eager and impatient of in- 
 terruption. Mr. Lillywhite himself, however, received them cordially, 
 and then proceeded to introduce to the chevalier a rather smart-looking 
 personage, with a shrill, shrivelled voice, called Mr. Spratt; a thin, 
 squeaking, wizened, white-faced, black-coated, white neck-clothed 
 spectre, as the Rev. Mr. Grumbledyke; a short-set, pale, stoutish, 
 man, in a bright blue satin stock, with a world of fun in his clear 
 grey eyes, as Dr. O'Keen ; and a heavy-looking morose personage, with 
 an indescribable expression of unprincipled cunning, and self-conceit, 
 as the celebrated Mr. Darkness. Now, it so happened, that neither 
 the chevalier nor Harry Worrel were at all aware of why Mr. Dark- 
 ness was celebrated, in which case might be found nine hundred and 
 ninety-nine men out of a thousand, throughout all Europe. But 
 Mr. Darkness happened to be the great man for the movement of the 
 Pansophisticon. He transfused, with w^onderful facility, the same low 
 unprincipled cunning and self-satisfaction that shone upon his counte- 
 nance, to the pages of the journal ; he conferred upon it that air of 
 saucy, tranchant confidence of its own opinions which is so excessively 
 useful to a review, and which was so highly admired by Mr. Lillywhite 
 himself; and, therefore, it was, that the worthy proprietor and editor 
 always called him the celebrated Darkness. 
 
 All the other gentlemen received the visitors with politeness, at 
 least, and with the air of wishing to be civil ; but Darkness viewed 
 them with supercilious contempt, and resisted, as far as he could, 
 the influence of the chevalier's peculiar powers. It is true, he could 
 not resist very long, but he began by cutting the compliments of Mr. 
 Lillywhite short, saying — 
 
 " Come, come, Lillywhite, let us proceed with business. This 
 insolence must be chastised — his book must be damned, double damned, 
 if possible. We must cut it up, root and branch." 
 
 " Certainly, certainly," said Lillywhite. " The idea of his impugning 
 the judgment of the Pansophisticon " 
 
 " Some very bad book, indeed, I suppose," said the chevalier, in a 
 low tone, addressing Dr. O'Keen, who sat beside him. " Something 
 very immoral and horrible, doubtless." 
 
 " Faith, not at all," said the doctor, with a sweet touch of brogue on 
 the tip of his tongue; " it's as good a book, and as clever a book, and 
 as pleasant a book as ever was written ; but you see it must be 
 damned — more's the pity !" 
 
 *' And, pray, why must it be damned ?" demanded the chevalier. 
 " It appears that Mr. Darkness and Mr. Lillywhite entertain a very 
 different opinion of its merits." 
 
 " Oh, no ! not at all," replied Doctor O'Keen ; " they think just 
 the same as I do, iii their hearts. Darkness does not very well know 
 
136 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 what's good and what's bad; but, impudent blockhead as he is, he 
 is well enough aware that all he has been saying about this book is 
 false. Lilly white will explain all, if you ask him." 
 
 The chevalier thereupon ventured to interrupt the conversation 
 that was going on between the editor and Mr. Darkness. Putting a 
 question to the former as to his reasons for so potently condemning 
 this said book. 
 
 " Why, you see, sir," said Mr. Lillywhite, " this is a man that 
 affects to hold his head high, and not to court the reviewers. He pre- 
 tended when the Pansophisticon was struggling to destroy a con- 
 temporary journal — he pretended, I say, that he would neither seek its 
 praise nor blame ; but now that we have got the upper hand, and have 
 our sow (the public) by the ear, we are determined to show him what 
 we can do. So when this book came out — after he had spent three or 
 four years in composing it — I first read it myself, and as it was so 
 very good I dared not put it into any inferior hands, for fear they 
 should not be able to damn it heartily ; but I gave it to Darkness, who, 
 I know, is as skilful in finding a flaw as a lawyer, and in making one 
 where there is none as a plumber. We'll smash him; won't we, 
 Darkness? we'll smash him for the honour of the Pansophisticon." 
 
 " Ay, that we will," said Darkness, rubbing his hands. " I 
 will cut him to atoms. I will get up all the histories of the times, 
 and see if I don't pick a hole in his coat somewhere." 
 
 " But," said the chevalier, putting his hand into his breeches pocket, 
 and pulling out one of the little cards of admission to the moon, with 
 w^hich he had now supplied himself from his portmanteau : " but one 
 thing is very clear to me, Mr. Lillywhite, and you must not be 
 offended at my saying so. It is self evident that you must very soon 
 ruin your paper altogether, if you employ writers to condemn that 
 which both they and you know to be good. The public must sooner 
 or later discover that such is the case, that what you praise is bad, 
 that what you blame is excellent, and that personal favour or dislike 
 is the due basis of your judgment. They will soon find this out, I 
 say, and, having found it out, will give you up and read a paper better 
 worthy of confidence. The act, my dear sir, is one of insanity, and 
 therefore you must excuse my begging yom' acceptance^, of this ticket 
 for the moon, where you will meet with a hearty welcome any time 
 ere six months be over." 
 
 Mr. Lillywhite opened his eyes till they looked like oysters ; and 
 Mr. Darkness exclaimed — 
 
 " Hallo ! what's this ? The foolish fellow will be giving me one next." 
 
 " No, sir," replied the chevalier; "there lies a considerable difference 
 hid under those two monosyllables, mad and had. You gratify your 
 malice without running any risk, without injuring your reputation, or 
 your purse, or aught else; but our worthy friend here risks his 
 property, by sacrificing the good opinion of all honest and intel- 
 ligent men. So depend upon it he requires to be removed to another 
 sphere." 
 
 " Fiddle, faddle," replied Mr. Darkness. " Honest and intelligent 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 137 
 
 men forsooth ! Who ever thinks of writing for honest and intelligent 
 men? Why there's not enough of them in all England to pay for 
 the paper and print. Every man likes to hear his neigh])our abused, 
 right or wrong. Satire, slander, abuse, these are the things that sell. 
 What signifies to nine hundred and ninety-nine men out of a thousand 
 whether they have a just opinion of a book or not, so long as they are 
 made to laugh, or are amused or pleased in any way by the review 
 they read. Truth ! who cares any thing for the truth but the Duke 
 of Wellington ? Come, come, take back your ticket, old gentleman : 
 we can't spare Eillywhite ; he feeds us all capitally." 
 
 "I am sorry," replied the chevalier ; "but as your only argument 
 is, that all the rest of the world are as mad as he, I am afraid that 
 will make no difference in my opinion. Good day, gentlemen : good day 
 Signor Lilly white ; you and I will meet again, at all events — in the 
 moon." 
 
 " The vagabond ! throw an inkstand at Ids head," cried Darkness. 
 " Knack heem down !" said Spratt. 
 
 " Phoo ! don't make a row," cried Dr. O'Keen, who was the only 
 man at all likely to have recourse to manual operations in case of 
 real offence ; and the chevalier left the room, in company with his 
 friend. 
 
 " Pray," demanded Mr. de Lunatico, as he issued forth into the 
 street, "are all your reviewers and editors of reviews of the same 
 stamp ? If they be, I shall have to distribute a good many tickets 
 I think." 
 
 " Oh, no," answered Worrel ; " very far from it. There is a clique 
 of low, \n^ilgar, ignorant men, who make their bread in this way, 
 feeding the worst portion of the public with abuse of every thing but 
 that which is written by themselves or their friends ; and as they have 
 some half-dozen papers amongst them they have a considerable effect, 
 not in purifying literature and elevating its tone, but in degrading and 
 depressing it. But there are, on the contrary, a number of gentlemen 
 of high feeling, strong talent, and profound learning engaged in the 
 various branches of criticism, whose writings — weekly, monthly, and 
 quarterly — tend greatly to afford an antidote to the other, poisonous 
 stream that is constantly pouring forth upon the public. It is not 
 possible to suppose, of course, that these gentlemen will not like the 
 book of a friend better than that of an enemy ; but making allowances 
 for human frailty, they judge upon the' whole justly. But as you have 
 now been to one of our literary courts,^will you accompany me to one 
 of our police tribunals ? There is one at no very great distance, and 
 you have a hackney coach at the door." 
 
 The chevalier willingly assented ; but when Joey Pike, who had 
 
 accompanied the vehicle, was told to order it to , the poor youth 
 
 looked so picturesquely miserable, that the chevalier comprehended 
 at once the apprehensions which took possession of him, and gave him 
 leave to return home while he and Worrel proceeded on their way. 
 
 The sitting magistrate received the two gentlemen with instan- 
 taneous urbanity, ^ The moment his eye lighted upon the cheva- 
 
138 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 lier his heart expanded towards him, and he requested that he 
 and his young friend would come up and take tlieir seats beside 
 him. It was his custom, he said, with all distinguished foreigners. 
 He then, though struggling with an anxious desire to communicate 
 every thing in a breath to his fascinating acquaintance, proceeded to 
 inquire into the case of a young gentleman who was brought be- 
 fore him, fashionably attired, and bearing upon his face an air of 
 swaggering insolence, as well as a pair of neat black mustachoes, 
 with a pair of brass spurs to correspond upon his heels. The 
 charge against him was, that he had been found drunk in the 
 street very late on the preceding night ; that he had assaulted and 
 grievously insulted a respectable tradesman's wife, and afterwards 
 knocked down more than one policeman who attempted to capture him. 
 He seemed somewhat anxious at the present moment to conceal his 
 name, though he treated the whole case with great .haughtiness. The 
 poor woman who had been ill used, said she did not wi'sh to urge 
 any thing harsh against his lordship, and the culprit's name being sent 
 up privately to the magistrate, instantly produced a great change on 
 his worship's countenance. The chevalier expected to hear some very 
 severe and terrible award, and whispered to Worrel — 
 
 " Of course he will make the punishment proportionate to the 
 education, rank, and circumstances of the criminal ; for that which is 
 pardonable in the ignorant, the poor, and those who have neither rank 
 nor a] respectable station in society, becomes a heinous offence in the 
 well-educated, untempted man of rank and fortune, who has every in- 
 ducement to do right and to avoid evil." 
 
 But the magistrate merely said, that as the complainant did not wish 
 to press the case, he should fine the prisoner five shillings for being 
 drunk, and discharge him. No surprise was expressed in court at this 
 decision ; and some persons, indeed, seemed to think the magistrate a 
 very severe and Aristides-like sort of gentleman, for laying a tax upon 
 the drunkenness of aristocracy. 
 
 " Does this happen always ?" asked the chevalier, in a low voice, of 
 Harry Worrel. 
 
 "No, no," replied his companion, "it was once universal; and a 
 gentleman, notwithstanding the assumed equality of all men in the eye 
 of the law, might commit every sort of brutality unpunished, except by 
 some trifling fine for which he cared not at all. Several of our magis- 
 trates, however, are now broaching the curious opinion, that the station 
 aggravates the offence." 
 
 The attention of the chevalier was at that instant called away to two 
 little urchins of nine and ten years old, who were placed before the magis- 
 trate charged with stealing a piece of cheese out of the open window of 
 a cheesemonger. The theft was clearly proved, but a wretched-looking 
 woman their mother, pale, sallow, and half-starved, stood wringing her 
 hands beside her children, and declared that she had told them to do it. 
 
 " Well, then, woman, I shall commit you, too," said the magistrate 
 sharply. " What made you tell your children to thieve ?* 
 J' Want," replied the woman simply. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 139 
 
 " Want !" exclaimed the magistrate. "No excuse at all! no excuse 
 at all!" 
 
 " They must either thieve or starve," said the woman. ** They had 
 nothing to eat : how could I see them die ?'* 
 
 " Then, the best place for you all is the treadmill," said the magis- 
 trate ; " there you wiU work and feed too. I shall commit you every 
 one." 
 
 Hereupon the cheesemonger interposed, saying, that he would rather 
 give the poor people another piece of cheese, than see them sent to the 
 treadmill. But Aristides would not hear of such a thing, and the chil- 
 dren and their mother were committed. 
 
 "I think he must have a billet," said the chevalier to himself; "though 
 if we get him in the moon, we must take care not to put him on the 
 bench." 
 
 A temporary interruption to the business of the court now took place, 
 no one being brought before the magistrate for the space of about ten 
 minutes, and his worship turned round to fill up the time by chatting 
 with the chevalier and his companion. 
 
 " Have you heard the curious story,'' he said, " of the inquest at 
 Outrun Castle?' 
 
 Harry Worrell pricked up his ears, and looked somewhat too con- 
 scious for a police court ; but the chevalier with liis imperturbable compo- 
 sure, merely replied that he had not seen the newspaper that morning ; 
 upon which the magistrate detailed to him the particulars, which the 
 reader already knows, and, after laughing at the verdict, added, " The 
 funniest particular of the whole business is, that one of the jury de- 
 clared afterwards to several people that he heard the corpse chuckle. 
 What he means I cannot tell, but I give you his own words, * he heard 
 the corpse chuckle.' '' 
 
 The chevalier laid his finger by the side of his long nose. It was a 
 nose that had been given to him by nature for that express purpose, 
 and whenever he did so, it brought an indescribable look of cunning, 
 or rather I should say, shrewdness into his countenance. 
 
 " What's the matter ?" said the magistrate. 
 
 « What's the matter ?' said Worrell. 
 
 " Nothing at all," answered the chevalier ; " only I have my sus- 
 picions, your worship, which it may be necessary to communicate im- 
 mediately in the right quarter. I will therefore take my leave, and 
 allow me to say, that I shall be very happy to see you in my country." 
 
 The chevalier presented his small billet and took his leave. The 
 magistrate bowed, holding the ticket between his fingers, and thinking 
 it the chevalier's card. The moment, however, the chevalier was out 
 of court, his worship looked at what he held in his hand, and rage and 
 fury took possession of him. " Run after them, catch them, seize them," 
 he cried. " I'll commit them for contempt, I'll imprison them, I'll send 
 
 them to the treadmill, — I'll I'll ^" But it was in vain that he 
 
 threatened ; the chevalier and Worrell were in the hackney coach, the 
 hackney coach had rolled away, the officers only thought that some 
 hoax had been put upon the magistrate, and made no haste to catch the 
 fugitives J and thus ended the visit to the police office* 
 
140 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE CHEVALIER STATES HIS SUSPICIONS JOEY PIKE MAKES A PROPOSITION HE 
 
 VOLUNTARILY PLACES HIMSELF IN STRAITENED CIRCUMSTANCES THE COMPOSI- 
 TION OP A VOUNG LADY MADEMOISELLE BROCKET APPEARS UPON THE STAGE 
 
 SHE MEETS WITH SOME READY-MADE LOVE VISITS THE VILLAGE OF OUTRUN 
 
 ASTOUNDS MRS. MUGGINS AND BECOMES POPULAR. 
 
 The chevalier was as still and as solemn as a discharged musket during 
 the whole time he was in the coach, from the windows of which, just as 
 it rolled up to the Golden Cross, they beheld Joey Pike tripping grace- 
 fully in. He was standing cap-in-hand at the foot of the stairs to re- 
 ceive them, and at a mysterious sign from the chevalier, he followed 
 them up into the sitting-room, where, to the surprise of both, Mr. de 
 Lunatico grasped the wrist of each of his companions, and in awful 
 and subdued voice, repeated twice, while he looked from the one to the 
 other, " He is alive ! " 
 
 " Qui vive ? " exclaimed Joey Pike. 
 
 " Whom do you mean ?" asked Worrel. 
 
 " The Honourable Henry Frederick Augustus Fitzurse," replied the 
 chevalier. 
 
 " Why, one thing is very certain," replied Worrel — " that if I shot 
 him I did not intend it, for I fired, as I thought, a couple of yards to 
 the right." 
 
 " He is alive !" repeated the chevalier ; " and this is the way it has 
 all happened, depend upon it. He fainted dead away with fright — cut 
 his forehead on a stone, (I thought it did not look like a pistol wound,) 
 and they wishing to get you out of the way, Worrel, on poor Laura's ac- 
 count, or to tease you out of malice, have concealed the facts of his 
 being yet alive. 1 declare if I were not engaged to dine with the 
 secretary of state, -I would go down this very day " 
 
 " E troppo tardo I " cried Joey Pike. 
 
 " Or to-morrow," continued the chevalier, " and secretly investigate 
 the matter to the bottom. Cannot you go, Worrell ? " 
 
 Harry shook his head. " I shall never see the place again 
 without pain," he said, " and although it certainly will be a relief to 
 my mind to think that the poor fellow is not shot, yet really I cannot 
 undertake to go there yet." 
 
 Joey Pike fell upon one knee, stretched forth his left hand, laid his 
 right upon his heart, and bent his head before the chevalier. 
 
 " Let me undertake it," he cried in a sepulchral tone, as if he were 
 Ion going to devote himself to death for the sake of his country. " Let 
 me undertake it. This very morning, nay, within this very hour, I 
 have arranged a plan for returning with the hienviellance of your eccel- 
 lenza, to watch the proceedings that are taking place in toutes nos 
 affaires. Have I your consentimiento F" 
 
 " I must hear, my good Joey," said the chevalier, " what is the plan 
 you intend to pursue ; for from what you told me a little while ago, I 
 suppose there is a warrant out against you." 
 
4 
 
//7^^/ ,^^^^^,^^^^^2^^^.^ ^^^.^^l^^^^U-^^^:^.-2^ 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIKENDO. 141 
 
 " Sir," said Joey rising from his knee, " after I quitted you, but now, 
 a certain tendresse led me to the Chien Noir in Fetter-lane, where in 
 conversation with the sweet Elise de Tuppins, the only one in my con- 
 fidence besides yourself, we formed a plan for my return to our native 
 village in order to put the police of the place under my surveillance^ 
 she having my most positive assurance, that through yoiu* means I caii 
 prove my innocence." 
 
 " But how, but how ?" said the chevalier. " How can you watch the 
 police without the police catching you ? It seems to me like the mice 
 hunting the cat." 
 
 " Thus, sir," said Joey, taking his countenance between his middle fin- 
 ger and his thumb, and smoothing it gently down till the two digits met 
 at the tip of his chin, " you see 1 am smooth and feminine of face, in 
 voice sweet, and in movement graceful. Ma belle Elise has promised 
 me a supply of her apparel, and letters to all her relations as her dearest 
 friend in town. Mademoiselle Brochet, the Countess of Ramscatskin's 
 lady's maid. For flowing curls, what have I to do but visit the Strand? 
 for hips and haunches, I will go to Vigo-lane. My waist is naturally 
 small, my hand delicate, my foot gentil. What woidd you more ? I 
 feel assured I can enact Mademoiselle Brochet to the life." 
 
 " No bad plan," said the chevalier, " indeed ; but we must set about 
 the business quickly, Joey. The coach, I think, leaves early in the 
 morning. Go to your fair lady, get yourself well dressed, and return 
 hither. We will take a room for you as Mademoiselle Brochet, and a 
 place for you in the coach to-morrow under the same name." 
 
 " Pardon my indiscretion, excellenza," said Joey Pike ; " but ere I 
 can put this in execution I must have gold — gold that unlocks the hearts 
 of all men must now fiu-nish locks to my countenance — gold must now 
 give me, too, a tourneur : without gold one cannot purchase ladies* 
 shoes, and I fear the pied mignon of my fair Elise, is somewhat 
 smaller than my own." 
 
 The chevalier, as the reader knows, was liberality itself, and forth 
 came his purse in an instant, from which a liberal supply was poured 
 into Joey's hand. 
 
 " A thousand ringraziamentos /" said Joey ; and after receiving 
 some farther directions from the chevalier, he issued forth to seek the 
 fair Elise. 
 
 The landlady of the Black Dog was so far let into the secret as to 
 know that a masquerade was intended, and as she had been long ac- 
 quainted with Joey, and knew him to be an honest harmless personage, 
 she followed the principle of the apostle in thinking no evil, and aided 
 the barmaid right willingly to dress him up. To his own little room, 
 which he had inhabited before the arrival of the chevalier in town, 
 Joey carried up an immense mass of female apparel, together with the 
 wig and the bustle he had bought. It was agreed that as soon as he 
 had got on a decent petticoat he should give a signal and receive 
 assistance, and accordingly at the first sign in rushed the landlady and 
 Miss Tuppins. 
 
 They found him standing before the glass in a flannel petticoat 
 which came but little below the knee, looking ineffable things at him- 
 
142 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 self in the mirror ; and seizing upon him with remorseless hands they 
 thrust him into a pair of stays, and began to lace him with a degree of 
 vehemence and unction that had nearly cut him in two. 
 
 " Pitie, pitiS,'' cried Joey ; " I cannot breathe. Remember, belle 
 Elise, that my taille is not so slender as yours !" 
 
 Elise gave him a box on the ear, and away they laced till Joey 
 Pike felt very much as a roasted pig must do when its skin is first 
 changed into crackling. 
 
 " Stay, stay !" he cried ; " let me see if I can move ;" and he 
 attempted to put himself into the attitude of the Venus de Medici. 
 It was not without an explosion, however, for one of the laces snapped 
 suddenly behind, and at the same time there was a loud crack in front. 
 
 " My best busk !" cried Miss Tuppins. " You clumsy creatm'e, you 
 have broke it through the middle !" 
 
 " Clumsy !" cried Joey ; " Oh, Dio /" 
 
 The ladies, however, were convinced by this experiment that they 
 ould never make Joey Pike a straight-laced young lady, and they 
 accordingly slackened the girths till he could move more at ease. 
 Then came the letting out of petticoats and gowns, the putting on of 
 sandalled shoes, the adjusting of the false hair, and the little no- 
 crowned cap, while ever and anon between each of the various acts 
 the wonder and admiration of the fair ladies grew to see what a pretty 
 simpering girl could be constructed even out of such materials as 
 Joey Pike afforded. He himself was in ecstasies and when at length 
 he beheld himself in the glass, crowned with a smart second-hand 
 French bonnet, he burst forth into a fit of antics that made his fair 
 Elise half angry, and nearly killed the good-humoured landlady with 
 laughing. He skipped, he danced, he pirouetted, he talked French, 
 he was Taglioni at one moment, a professor de langues the next, he 
 took a chaste salute of the two ladies, he made them low and reverend 
 court'seys, he did every thing in short that might be expected from Joey 
 Pike under such circumstances, and seemed, to say tlie truth, to feel 
 himself as much at home in his new apparel as his old. It was by this 
 time growing dark, and away he went up the Strand, after taking a 
 tender leave of his inamorata who gratified him with an embrace 
 in his female capacity, for which perhaps neither party was 
 sorry to find an excuse. Away he went, I say, up the Strand, with a 
 gingerly pace, and a boy behind him carrying a large bandbox full of 
 borrowed plumes, similar to those with which he was already decorated. 
 Joey had no difficulty in mincing his steps, pointing his toes, and 
 wriggling along with steps like demisemiquavers after the fashion of 
 a little Parisian of the second class, and it must be said that his 
 air was very doubtful and not particularly virtuous. Under these cir- 
 cumstances a gentleman passing along ventured to take Joey by the 
 hand, and called him a devilish fine girl ; but our friend snatched his 
 offended fist away, exclaiming with a strong foreign accent, " Don't, 
 sair ! impertinence /" 
 
 Nor was this the only notice he attracted, but with an air of indig- 
 nant modesty he kept all his extempore lovers at arm's length, and 
 reaching the Golden Cross, Charing-cross, in safety, he asked if the 
 
'C^eJ ^yfZ^izZi> a^iT^^/myy^ii^ey J^fez^^^^i?^ 
 
 x; 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIEENDO. 143 
 
 Chevalier de Lunatico and i\Ir. Henry Worrel lodged there. An 
 answer in the affirmative was immediately given, followed by an in- 
 quiry whether he were Mademoiselle Brochet, for whom a room had 
 been engaged. Joey replied that he was " De same," and was imme- 
 diately ushered into the presence of the chevalier and his friend, who 
 could scarcely restrain their laughter even in the presence of the waiter. 
 
 To say truth, had they not been made aware beforehand of the 
 transformation that was about to take place, neither of them would 
 have recollected the smart youth of the Half Moon, so completely 
 was he changed in appearance, manner, and voice. Not even to 
 them, however, did Joey for a moment put off the character of 
 Mademoiselle Brochet, but kept it up admirably till he took his leave 
 and retired to rest, that he might be able to go by that " Shokang 
 Diligence which go so early le mating 
 
 In his own room Joey was somewhat puzzled. All his upper 
 garments he knew he could manage well enough, but his stays 
 he knew were neither so easily got rid of, nor so easily put on 
 again. He therefore determined to go to bed in them, and a terrible 
 night he had of it. Sleep, he certainly did ; but Joey's imagination 
 was not one to do without dreaming, and he very soon fancied himself 
 in the village of Outrun, with the beadle of the parish taking him up 
 as an abandoned woman. He was carried before a magistrate and 
 ordered to be put in the stocks, but the beadle finding his foot was so 
 small that he could not keep it in, bethought himself of a new con- 
 trivance and fastened him in by the middle. The operation was so 
 unpleasant that Joey roared lustily, and in five minutes he was 
 awakened by half-a-dozen people knocking at his door and asking 
 what was the matter. 
 
 Joey's first exclamation to himself was " Ji? rSvois !" and following up 
 the train which he knew was a good one, he shouted aloud in answer 
 to the tender inquiries of those without — " Je revois ! Je revois /" 
 
 " Raved I " cried a bluff voice on the other side of the door, 
 " Raved ! Ay, I suppose you did ; but if you want to rave, you 
 should go to a mad-house." 
 
 " I was a dreaming !" cried Joey ; " I was a dreaming very hard !" 
 
 " Ah, those d n French people," said the same voice grumbling 
 
 as it went away ; " they're always a dreaming. They were a dreaming 
 once they would have it all their own way ; and after that they were a 
 dreaming that they'd have Spain, and then they'd have Russia, and 
 then that they'd lick England at Waterloo ; but it all turned out a 
 dream, and a d n unpleasant one too, I should think." 
 
 Joey did not stay to attend very particularly to what was said, but 
 conscious of the necessity of sleep, turned himself round upon his 
 side, and was soon once more buried in the arms of Somnus. This 
 time he had better success than before, for he went on without any 
 troublous dreams till the dawn of morning. He was then roused, just 
 having an hour to hurry on his things, and had luckily time enough to 
 accomplish the long subject of his dressing, and to take some breakfast 
 before he was summoned to the stage-coach. A tender and affectionate 
 leave of him was taken by the chevalier and Harry Worrel, and having 
 
144 THE COMMISSIONER ; OH, 
 
 the M'hole of the inside to himself, he had an opportunity of considering 
 his whole plan beforehand. The thing that troubled him most of all, in- 
 deed, was his stays ; and he saw that he should never be able to get them 
 on without some female help, and he gallantly determined, like many ano- 
 ther wandering hero, to cast himself upon the benevolence of a woman. 
 
 To pursue our tale, however, without pursuing his thoughts or his 
 journey either, let us say, that after rolling on for many a live long hour, 
 the coach stopped opposite the Half Moon in the village of Outrun, 
 and punctual to the tick of the clock, there was the fair, and blooming 
 Mrs. Muggins at the door of her auberge with a neat barmaid and a 
 respectable-looking hostler. Joey gazed upon them all, and putting 
 himself into the place of one of the travellers accustomed to journey 
 up and down that road, mentally exclaimed — if such a thing be 
 possible — " There they are all — fair Muggins, sweet Sally, and Bill the 
 hostler. But where is Joey Pike?" 
 
 " I go down here, sair," said Joey to the coachman; and descending 
 from the carriage he made a low court'sey to Mrs. Muggins, saying — 
 
 " Good evening, mad — dame. Give me down my carton What I 
 
 pay you, sair ?" 
 
 The coachman named his fare, and the lady paid him liberally out of 
 a well-appointed green silk purse, the sight of which greatly enhanced 
 the respect of Mrs. Muggins. 
 
 " This way, ma'am,'' she said, " this way. Show a light, Sally. Bill, 
 carry up the lady's band-box. No. 2, is nice and all ready. Pleasant 
 day for travelling, ma'am." 
 
 As soon as they entered the room she named, the landlady asked 
 what her guest would take. The maid waited to see what would come 
 of it, and the ostler halted at the door. 
 
 " Can it be possible," said the assumed lady, addressing Mrs. Mug- 
 gins, " that I may speak a w^ord with you ?" 
 
 " Certainly, ma'am," replied the landlady, dropping a court'sey. 
 *' Bill, we don't want you. Sally, go and put sheets to the fire." 
 
 Her orders were instantly obeyed, upon which, and the door being 
 closed. Mademoiselle Brochet tripped lightly up to the hostess of the 
 Half-Moon, took her two hands in hers, and, bringing her mouth as close 
 as the cap would let her to Mrs. Muggins's ear, exclaimed, "I am 
 Joey Pike." 
 
 The hostess of the Half-Moon started back in the very act of uttering 
 a long scream, so completely was she taken by surprise, astonished and 
 astounded, overcome and confounded ; but Joey, quick as thought 
 divined her intention, clapped his hand upon her mouth and exclaimed, 
 " If you speak I am lost ! " 
 
 " Lost, you fool !" cried Mrs. Muggins ; " why, you are lost already ! 
 Dont you know that there's a coroner's warrant out against you for the 
 murder of old Scapulary ? Don't you know ." 
 
 " I know it all," replied Joey. 
 
 " Then what did you come here for ?" demanded Mrs. Muggins. 
 
 " To watch the proceedings of all," said Joey. " To see what every 
 one is about, and, a la fin, to give myself up for trial as soon as I know 
 that I shall not be kept in prison first." 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. I45f 
 
 " Oh, that makes a great difference," said Mrs. Muggins. " If you 
 intend to give yourself up for trial, that proves that you are innocent." 
 
 "And did you doubt my innocence, fair Muggins?" cried Joey; 
 " O crudel sorty ! " 
 
 " No, my poor boy," replied Mrs. INIuggins : " to say the truth, I did 
 not, but I did doubt that you would be able to prove it, for Jones the 
 milkman saw you coming out of old Scapulary's just at the moment that 
 he must have been murdered, for Mrs. Scapulary, poor thing, only went 
 away for a minute to get him something, leaving the poor old soul 
 quite well, and when she came back he was brutally murdered." 
 
 "Jones might see me," said Joey, "for I certainly ran against some- 
 body as I came out ; but the chevalier and Mr. Worrel both can prove 
 that I was with them at the duel. I only ran when the old lord cried 
 out to take us up for shooting Mr. Fitzurse. I popped into old Scapu- 
 lary's because he was a relation and a friend, thinking to find refuge ; 
 but I found nothing, on the contrary, but a cadavre. The sight of 
 him frightened me so, that I ran as hard as I could, and the turnpike 
 man can prove at what hour I passed through the gate. It is only im- 
 prisonment I fear, Mrs. Muggins. Would you have me lose my bright 
 days in a prison ? " 
 
 " No, no, Joey," answered Mrs. Muggins. " But what does your 
 master say to all this ?" 
 
 " Why, it is he himself that has sent me down," replied Joey, " fur- 
 nished me with the denari, and applauded my enterprise. So here I 
 stay till the assizes, giving notice to whom it may concern, that I am 
 present though non-apparent, and will appear to take my trial, aujour 
 et moment^ 
 
 " Well," said the hostess of the Half-Moon, "if that be the case, Til 
 do all I can to help you, Joey." 
 
 " You can do nought to lielp me, fair Muggins," replied Joey, " but 
 keep my secret and lace my stays." 
 
 " Lace your stays ! Ha, ha, ha," cried Mrs. Muggins, " that's a 
 good un. I'll have nothing to do with your stays, Joey." 
 
 " Mrs. Muggins," said Joey in a solemn tone, " I am a decent young 
 woman, and if you do not lace my stays 1 am lost." 
 
 " Well, then, you must come down to the bar," said Mrs. Muggins, 
 and after nearly as many preliminaries as were found requisite by 
 Sterne and the lady in the black silk breeches case, a convention was 
 agreed upon to enable Joey Pike to have his stays laced, and yet save 
 the reputation of Mrs. Muggins. 
 
 All this being settled to Joey's full satisfaction, he supped and went 
 to bed, and the next day began his campaign as Mademoiselle Brochet, 
 by delivering sundry billets from the fair Elise de Tuppins to her vari- 
 ous acquaintances in the village of Outrun. 
 
 Joey's reception was flattering in the extreme, and a series of small 
 tea-parties was commenced in his honour, where he kept up his assumed 
 character with the highest spirit, flirted, danced, languished, and never 
 forgot for a moment to speak the most detestable English that ever 
 was heard. 
 
 c. — NO. V. 1. 
 
146 THE COxMMISSIONEll ; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 ME. LONGSHANKS PREACHES WITHOUT ORDINATION MR. LONGMORK OBJECTS TO 
 
 ONK OF THE QUALITIES OV A GHOST WIDOW BAIN STANDS UP IN DEFENCE 
 
 OF ONE API'ARITION, AND MEETS WITH A MORE SUBSTANTIAL ONE THAN SHE 
 EXPECTED. 
 
 " What may be the first state of the spirit after death," — said Mr. 
 Longshanks, addressing liimself to Mr. Loiigmore, with the widow, 
 Nelly Bain, standing on his right hand. " What may be the first state 
 of the spirit after death is difficult for pliilosophy to divine, and revela- 
 tion has given us no information. There is not the slightest cause, how- 
 ever, to doubt, that as far as the individual being itself is concerned, 
 there is not the most minute pause between the conclusion of earthly 
 sensation and spiritual sensation. The absence of recollection is death ; 
 and a state of being unmarked by any feeling is, in fact, no state of 
 being at all, as far as the creature itself is concerned. The interval, 
 therefore, between the extinction of the life of this world and its re- 
 newal in another, must but seem a single point to the spirit of man, 
 even were he to remain for a thousand ages unawakened to his new 
 existence. In that long sleep no chiming clocks could mark the time ; 
 no griefs, no sorroAvs calendar the years ; no kindly affections write in 
 white characters the record of our joys ; no hopes, either fulfilled or 
 disappointed, mark the boundaries between day and day. The perfect 
 sleep of undisturbed youth, when we close our eyes at night and open 
 them in the morning, wondering that day has so soon come back, is 
 the only image that we can have of death and resurrection ; even sup- 
 posing, that in the interval the soul remains unconscious." 
 
 Mr. Longmore sat with his eyes covered with his hands, and the 
 tears bedev, ing them ; for the sermon of the surgeon had been called 
 forth by the mention of sorrows but too i)resGnt to his own heart. 
 The widow had listened with downcast eyes, though with much plea- 
 sure, to the words of her good friend : she liked the subject that was 
 somewhat painful to Mr. I.ongmore ; for all her hopes in this world 
 were over, and her joys had been snatclied away one by one; so that 
 she was pleased to hear something of the land to which those she 
 loved had gone, and v, hither she Avas soon to follow. Mr. Longmore, on 
 the contrary, had received the blow without any previous preparation. 
 Laura hud not been to him his all in life ; and he would rather that 
 she had stayed with him here, than gone on to receive him "at that 
 bourne from which no travclhr returns." 
 
 When the good surgeon paused, the widow raised her eyes for a 
 moment, and then droi)ped a courtesy, saying, in a voice of some 
 alarm — 
 
 " It seems a long time, sir ! I ho})e we ishall not forget all about 
 this world in that time." 
 
 " Oh, no," answered the surgeon ; " as I said but now, forgetfulness 
 is dea^h, and the faculties of the spirit suffer no decay ; it is thefacul- 
 
BE LU.NATICO INQUIRENDO. 147 
 
 ties of the body that go one by one. No one can tell how it may be 
 that all the actions of our lives, all that we have done or endured, will 
 be recalled to us in our more perfect state. But we have sufficient 
 indications even in this life, that such things may and can be. Let any 
 one fix his mind for a moment upon some point in the times long past, 
 some scenes that he wishes to recall, some faces that have grown dim 
 in the mist of years ; his memory will fail him, it will all be obscure 
 and dark ; confused images that will not arrange themselves in form ; 
 vapours tinted with the sunshine, but rolling rapidly from shape to 
 shape. Then let some word of those times be spoken, it matters not 
 what ; let some song be sung that we have heard from lips long gone ; 
 let some picture bring back the dwelling-place of our youth ; let some 
 flower send us back the odour we have loved in other days, and in a 
 moment a thousand things that we have forgotten for years, will rise 
 up distinct and tangible before our eyes ; each vague image will take 
 its sensible form again, and memory, which but slumbered, will awake 
 to tell us all we wished, in tones definite and clear. Thus too, when 
 we hear of the death of some distant friend — some one of whom our 
 thoughts, perhaps, have proved treacherous, guarding but carelessly 
 the treasure of his memory : we hear of his death, and then, oh ! with 
 what painful reality all that we had forgot comes back — the smiles, 
 the happy looks, the kindly acts, the gay companionships, the words, 
 the very tones, that seemed blotted out from our recollection for ever. 
 No, no. Widow Bain, it wants but the stroke upon the bell to call 
 the whole household of the spirit together, and in another world that 
 stroke will be given by an omnipotent hand, to which, in all times of 
 sorrow we must bow botli with resignation and with confidence." 
 
 The widow raised her eyes towards heaven, and thought of her son; 
 and good Mr. Longshanks went on, knowing well that it is with 
 difficulty that we realize to ourselves the idea of time being a 
 nonentity. 
 
 " I do not mean to say," he continued, " by any means, that the 
 spirit will, as it were, remain in abeyance till the last day : on the 
 contrary, there are many reasons to be gathered, both from philosophy 
 and revelation, for an opposite conclusion. We are told of two 
 instances of translation from this world to another — we are told of spirits 
 having risen — I speak always of revealed history — and there are many 
 indications of actual and conscious existence in the spirits of the dead, 
 in various parts of our SaA iour's teacliing. Besides that remarkable 
 text in which, referring to Abraham, he showed that his Father is not 
 God of the dead, but God of the living. Philosopliy too tells us, that 
 such is likely to be the case ; though I do not mean to say, that such 
 a thing as the appearance of spirits, except for especial purposes, and 
 in interruption of the ordinary laws of nature " 
 
 "It is impossible," said Mr. Longmore, looking up, "according to 
 the science of catoptrics, that an unsubstantial body can reflect the 
 rays of light in such a manner as to become represented upon the retina." 
 
 " What is light its(»lf ?" demanded Mr. Longshanks, turning upon 
 him sharply. " Who said that ghosts were unsubstantial ? who shall 
 limit the tenuity of matter? Of all these things, sir, we know 
 
148 THE COMMISSIOKER ; OK, 
 
 nothing. Religion tells us as much as it is necessary to know : religion 
 tells us that spirits have appeared, and that's enough for you or me 
 either." 
 
 The good surgeon was beginning to wax warm ; and, in all proba- 
 bility, ere many minutes had passed, he would have rapped out a 
 heavy oath or two, but just at that moment the widow dropped one of 
 her calm quiet courtesys, saying — 
 
 " My poor William's spirit appeared four nights ago, sir !" 
 
 " The devil, he did !" exclaimed Mr. Longshanks, who, as the 
 reader may have perceived, was not always particularly reverent in his 
 piety. " Nonsense, woman ! what do you mean ?" 
 
 " Why, sir," she replied, " it's very true, I can assure you. Old 
 Mrs. Maroon who was left to watch when they brought me here, came 
 up to me yesterday, and told me how, the very first night she fell 
 asleep for a minute or two, and waking up all aghast, she was just in 
 time to see a tall figure, in white, walk out of the cottage, or rather 
 disappear, for, it made no noise at all; so it must have been the poor 
 dear boy ; and that's the reason I wish to get back again as soon as 
 your honour thinks it proper." 
 
 " Would you not be afraid ?" asked Mr. Longmore, with an inquir- 
 ing look. 
 
 *' What ! afraid to see William !" cried the woman, with a look of 
 yearning sorrow. " Oh, sir ! sleeping or waking, living or dead, I 
 would give my right hand to see my poor boy again." 
 
 *' Oh, mother's love ! mother's love !" cried Mr. Longshanks. " Saw 
 a tall white figure go out of the cottage !" and after pondering over 
 
 the matter for several minutes, he added — " the d d old woman 
 
 has been asleep and dreaming." 
 
 " She owns that she was asleep, sir," said the widow ; " but she says 
 that she had woke up quite, and saw the figure as clearly as if it had 
 been full day. I should very much like to get back to the cottage, 
 sir." 
 
 " Well, well," replied Mr. Longshanks, " you can get back this 
 very night if you please — now the funeral is over. Tell the gardener 
 to go up and help "you. I will come up myself in the evening and 
 see how you are going on." 
 
 Widow Bain dropped a courtesy and retired, leaving Mr. Longshanks 
 and his companion to finish their philosophical dispute at their leisure. 
 She herself, however, proceeded without loss of time to get the little 
 packet ready, which contained all the goods and chattels that had been 
 brought down for her use to Mr. Longmore's. The gardener willingly 
 wheeled them up for her in his barrow, and the poor widow entered 
 the scene of her early joy and her early love with feelings which the 
 reader must conceive, for we will not dilate upon them ; suffice it, 
 that although she was possessed with the spirit of calm endurance to as 
 great an extent as perhaps any woman on the earth, she was quite over- 
 come, as she gazed round the cottage and saw a thousand things which 
 recalled to her memory some little trait of the early dead. The poor 
 widow hid her face and wept. Just at that moment the old woman. Maroon, 
 came in, and seeing the state of poor Widow Bain she volunteered to stay 
 
' DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 149 
 
 with her to keep her cheerful, as she called it. In the moment of depres- 
 sion Mrs. Bain accepted the proposal, and the gardener, after having sat 
 a while with them, left the two women together, arid returned home as 
 night was approaching. To say the truth, Mrs. Maroon was not the 
 most eligible person that the widow could have chosen for her com- 
 panion. She was one of the solemn and awful people who think they 
 show their sympathy best with any one in sorrow by talking of every 
 thing that is melancholy, and taking the most gloomy picture of human 
 nature. Thus she went on fidgetting about the cottage to make 
 Widow Bain as comfortable as possible, talking of every misery that 
 ever happened to any one on earth, and like the prophets of old fore- 
 showing sorrows to come. The widow bore it all with exemplary 
 fortitude ; wept a little from time to time, but still withdrawing her 
 thoughts from this world, strove to look forward to a reunion with 
 those she loved in a brighter and a better state. 
 
 About a couple of hours after dark, however, Mrs. Maroon, who 
 •was just passing the window, suddenly exclaimed, " Laus' a marcy ! 
 There was a man looking in." 
 
 " See what he wants," said Mrs. Bain, who was busy boiling some 
 'water for tea. 
 
 " Not I," answered Mrs. Maroon ; " I am afeard." 
 
 Widow Bain, however, had now no fears left, and going to the 
 door, she opened it suddenly when, to her surprise she beheld a man 
 with his hands stretching up as if thrust under the thatch of the 
 cottage. The moment he saw her he took to his heels and ran, and 
 the widow shut the door again, saving, " I wonder what's the meaning 
 of that?" 
 
 " Who, was it, who was It ?" cried Mrs. Maroon. 
 
 " I did not see his face," replied the widow, but he was a stout, 
 thick-set man, like Smalldram the tinman." 
 
 " I thought it was his face," said Mrs. Maroon, and almost as she 
 spoke, some one knocked with a stick at the door, the latch was 
 raised, and Mr. Longshanks entered. 
 
 " Pray, sir," asked Mrs. Maroon, before she gave him time to 
 speak, " did you meet any body as you came up ?" 
 
 " Nobody but that poacher scoundrel, Smalldram," said the 
 surgeon. " Has he been here, woman ?" 
 
 " He's been looking in at the window," replied Mrs. Maroon. 
 
 " And when I looked out he had his hand up to the thatch," said 
 Widow Bain, " as if he was going to pull a handful of the straw 
 out." 
 
 " He's after no good, he's after no good," said Mr. Longshanks. 
 *' Please God we shall all live to see him hanged I" and with the ex- 
 pression of this charitable expectation the conversation dropped upon 
 that point. 
 
150 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 AN INQUIEY INTO THE MORAL CONDITION OF MRS. SCAPULARY SHE CONFERS 
 
 WITH A FRIEND AVHO HELPED HER AT A PINCH HE SATS SWEET THINGS TO 
 
 THE WIDOW SHE EXPRESSES HER APPREHENSIONS AND FINALLY DRAWS A 
 
 SECRET FROM HIM MADEMOISELLE BROCKET TREADS UPON THE HEELS OF 
 
 THE SECRET SHE ALARMS AND PUZZLES MRS. SCAPULARY THE WIDOAV PREPARES 
 
 THE WAY FOR PUTTING HER FRIEND IN A STATE OF SUSPENSE SHE MAKES 
 
 A MISTAKE IN REGARD TO TIME AND PLACE. 
 
 The body of poor Tobias Scapulary was laid in the familiar earth of 
 the churchyard which he had so often tossed and tumbled about, and 
 which now received him like an old acquaintance. The widow, dressed 
 in becoming weeds, had spent the day in dignified seclusion, reckon- 
 ing up upon a slate the various goods and chattels of wiiich she had 
 jcome into possession by the decease of the said Tobias some four- 
 and-twenty hours before that event would naturally have occurred. 
 The day declined, and night sat down upon the village of Outrun, 
 covering it all over with her black calimanco petticoat, and shutting 
 out the eyes even of the stars from the ways of mortal man. 
 
 Although she had abundance of topics of consolation Mrs. Scapu- 
 lary was somewhat queasy about the stomacli. Imagination, that 
 skittish jade, would play her tricks, even with Mrs. Scapulary, whom 
 nature certainly never intended for an imaginative person. She cou\d 
 not get out of her sight the form of old Tobias, as he lay kicking, 
 with his mouth open, under the tender hands of herself and Mr. Small- 
 dram, and although she shut her eyes more than once to get rid of 
 the unpleasant image, it was there under the eyelids just as much as 
 before. Under these circumstances she had recourse to employment, 
 the very best source of relief under all circumstances of mental dis- 
 quietude. She put the kettle on the fire, slie wiped and rubbed the 
 table, she got a green glass bottle from the cupboard, she added a 
 ,tumbler and wine-glass, she sought for a tea-spoon, and brought out 
 the sugar-basin, and then she sat down and meditated fondly while the 
 kettle began first to hiss, and then to whistle, and then to sing, as it is 
 called. Still Mrs. Scapulary was uneasy in her mind, and as she would 
 not think of her dear departed Toby, she turned lier mind to Mr. 
 Smalidram ; but there the contemplation was not pleasant either, as 
 the reader will perceive when he hears, that the conclusion which she 
 came to was " He's a great villain, that Smalidram, that's clear enough. 
 What right had he to go a cleaning out of old Toby's breeches pockets ? 
 There was a lot of money there, I know, and how can I tell how much? 
 Hang me if I marry him. With vrhat I've got now it 'ill be easy enough 
 to get many a respectable young man ; that it will and not such a seedy 
 old scamp as that ! Hang me if I knew how, if I wouldn't put him in for 
 the murder, instead of letting it rest upon a nice young man like Joey 
 Pike. I wonder what he's done with the money now ? He's just the 
 
t)K LUXATTOO INQUlilENDO. l51 
 
 one to go and flash it before half a dozen people and get the whole 
 matter blowed." 
 
 Just as she was in tliis part of her meditations, and had mechanically 
 compounded a glass of warm and consolatory fluid, the door opened 
 quietly and in walked Mr. Smalldram himself. 
 
 " Lord ! how you made me start/' cried the widow. " Why didn't 
 you knock ?" 
 
 " Lord bless'ee, my dear creetur," said Mr. Smalldram ; " I come in 
 quite nateral like. You and I is upon them terms, as vaves all cere- 
 mony." 
 
 Mrs. Scapulary would willingly enough have given her co-labourer 
 a rebuff, but a certain sensation of being in his power overcame the 
 proud conviction that he was in hers, and being a shrewd woman in 
 her way, she saw that it would be necessary for her to arm and guard 
 herself well in the first instance before she broke with Mr. Smalldram ; 
 and therefore she resolved to be exceedingly civil to him till such time 
 as she had related such suspicious circumstances to one or two indiffe- 
 rent persons as might tell against Mr. Smalldram at a future period, 
 if she found it necessary to charge him, and which might also tell in 
 her favour if he were to reply with a tu quoque, and cliarge her in 
 return. 
 
 " Yes,'* she said to herself — " yes, I must prepare the way ; and if I 
 can but get him to tell me what he has done with the money, I shall 
 have a fast hold of him. I'll pretend I want him very much to marry 
 me." 
 
 The reader will see that Mrs. Scapulary was a shrewd woman, a 
 very shrewd woman, indeed. Mr. Smalldram, though, according to his 
 own expression, he knew a thing or two, was a sucking dove compared 
 to her; and in pursuance of her plan, she now gave him an amiable 
 nod, saying — 
 
 " Well, well, sit down and take a glass of gin and water. It won't 
 do you any harm, Tom, this dark night." 
 
 *' No ; that it won't, my love," said Tom. " From all I hear, youVe 
 made a good thing of it, my dear." 
 
 " Tolerably well," replied Mrs. Scapulary. " Three thousand pounds 
 in the funs, Tom ; two houses up the village, one of 'em furnished ; and 
 this here house, or cottage, for one can't call this nasty place a house. 
 I wonder the old brute could live here, Avhen he had such a nice 
 pleasant place close at hand. Only he let that, you know. He was 
 always so fond of money." 
 
 • " Ay, blasted fond," said Mr. Smalldrum. " Give us the sugar — 
 there's a sweet creetur — or put your finger in and stir it ; that will do 
 as well." 
 
 " For shame, you flattering thing," said Mrs. Smalldram. " I know 
 what you want : you want me to name an early day ; but we must be 
 decent, you know, my dear ; and besides, people might begin to talk 
 and grow suspicious, if we married too soon." 
 
 " Pooh ! nonsense!" answered Mr. Smalldram. " Why, all the world 
 knows it was Joey Pike who did the trick : we'll get him hanged for it, 
 and then that account will be closed." 
 
152 THE COAIMISSIONEl? ; OK, 
 
 *' But"! am always so afraid of that money, and them papers that 
 you took out of his pocket," said Mrs. Scapulary. " You are such a 
 careless fellow, Tom, I'll bet you that you have left them now at your 
 lodging." 
 
 " Not I," answered Mr. Smalldram. 
 ' " Well, then," said the widow, " if you have got them with you, 
 do give all the notes to me, and I'll give you gold and silver for 
 them." 
 
 " No bad thought, that," replied Mr. Smalldram ; " but the truth is, 
 I haven't got them with me." 
 
 " Then youVe spent them all," said Mrs. Scapulary, vehemently. 
 " You've spent them all in such a short time, and the whole thing will 
 be blowed." 
 
 " Nonsense ! I haven't spent one of them. I have changed some of 
 the gold, but not one of the flimsies, and I hid them and the rest away 
 in a safe place, where no one can find them out." 
 
 " Come, I shan't be satisfied till you tell me where that is," said 
 Mrs. Scapulary. " I ain't going to be hanged, Tom, for none of your 
 nonsense ; so I shan't be satisfied unless you tell me where they are." 
 
 " Pooh ! You don't suppose I'd peach," replied her companion. "I'd 
 die game, any how, my dear. If I must dance a jig upon nothing, I'll 
 dance it alone." 
 
 " Ay, but Tom," said Mrs. Scapulary, putting on one of her sweetest 
 and most insinuating looks, " I don't want you to do that neither — that 
 wouldn't answer my turn no how." 
 
 " Nor mine, neither, my dear," said Mr. Smalldram. 
 
 " Well, I shall never know a moment's happiness," rejoined the fair 
 lady, in a touching tone, " till I know where them notes and papers 
 are, or till you bring them to me and let me change them." 
 
 " Well, my dear, I'll bring them to-morrow," said Mr. Smalldram ; 
 "but to make your mind easy for the present, I'll tell you that they are 
 under the thatch of Nelly Bain's cottage. I put them in there the night 
 after ** 
 
 But the worthy gentleman was stopped, ere he could conclude his 
 speech, by a slight tap at the door, and then the latch being thrown up. 
 Mrs. Scapulary looked somewhat surprised and scared ; but the next 
 instant there entered, on the tips of her toes, a tall, pretty-looking, 
 ■well-dressed girl, with immense large houcles at the side of her face, a 
 smart rose-coloured bonnet, and delicate French gloves. Advancing a 
 step into the room, she dropped a low courtesy, then took two steps for- 
 ward and dropped another ; and then, with the most insinuating smile 
 possible, addressed Mrs. Scapulary — 
 
 " A thousand pardongs, madame," she said ; " but I bring you this 
 leetle billet from your acquaintance. Mademoiselle de Tuppins. Ne 
 derangez pas, sair. Pray, don't let me disturb you." 
 
 But Mr. Smalldram rose and scratched his head, and then, nodding 
 to Mrs. Scapulary, said — " I'll come back another time : to-morrow 
 night, perhaps." 
 
 Having uttered which words, he took his departure, closing the door 
 carefully behind him. The moment he was gone, Mademoiselle Brochet, 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 153 
 
 for we need not tell the reader tliat such was the person now upon the 
 scene, proceeded, with all tlie callous facility of a true Frenchwoman, to 
 condole with Mrs. Scapulary upon her loss of the dear departed 
 sexton. 
 
 " I been very much shock, madame, very much shock, indeed, to hear 
 that your hose-band have been murdered. How you do it since ? 
 
 "How I do it!" almost shrieked Mrs. Scapulary. "Lord! miss, 
 who said I did it ?" 
 
 " No, no ; you mistake," said Mademoiselle Brochet ; " I say, how 
 you do since it ?" 
 
 " Oh, very well," cried Mrs. Scapulary, greatly relieved ; " I never 
 was better in my life." 
 
 " I always tought so," said IMademoiselle Brochet. 
 
 " Thought what ?" demanded Mrs. ScajDulary, beginning to be 
 nettled. 
 
 " Vy, dat it must be extremely charmanty and make one woman 
 very well, indeed, to get rid of one nasty old hose-band, and be a 
 nice, pretty, young vidow," was the reply. 
 
 The latter part of the speech sweetened the dose, and so Mrs. 
 Scapulary swallowed it, answering with her eyes turned up — 
 
 " Ah ! poor old man ! it was a great charity — that is to say, it was 
 a great relief to himself to die." 
 
 " Ah ! very great charity and relief too," said Mademoiselle 
 Brochet, marking the good lady's words more than she thought ; 
 " relief to him — charity to you. Now, do tell me how it was all 
 arranged 
 
 " Arrangey !" cried Mrs. Scapulary, her doubts and apprehensions 
 beginning to rise again. 
 
 But Mademoiselle Brochet replied — 
 
 " Dat is to say, how did it all happen ?" 
 
 " Oh !" said Mrs. Scapulary, not at all unwilling to explain, and to 
 make a person totally unconne*cted with the place the means of con- 
 veying to the public the first hints which she thought fit to give, of 
 any doubt in regard to Mr. Smalldram. " Oh, I'll tell you how it all 
 happened. Pray, sit down, miss, and take a drop of something com- 
 fortable — It is all I have got to offer you." 
 
 " Oh, dear, no !" cried Mademoiselle Brochet, with a simpering 
 look of reluctance, " I nevare take any speerits ; at all events, not 
 more dan half-a-glass : but I want vary much to hear how dis ting 
 bin done." 
 
 The sexton's widow did not require much pressing, but went on to 
 reply— 
 
 " As to the matter of that, I can't exactly tell how it was done, but 
 I can tell you at what time it was done. You see the way of it was 
 this — the old man had been very bad all night, and about fi\'e 
 o'clock in the morning the poor old creature began to call out for some 
 milk and water ; so I thought I could not do less than go and fetch 
 him some ; and away I went, though I knew that it would be of little or 
 no use ; so I put on my things and went away to one or two places 
 without getting a drop — though just at the corner of the house there 
 
164 THE COMMISSIONETi ; 0«, 
 
 I met with ]Mr. Sinalldvain, and asked liini wliere he thought I could 
 get some." 
 
 " Meestaire Smalldram rise early in de moorning," said Miss Brochet. 
 
 "Ay, that he does," answered the sexton's widow; "one must get 
 up early to come over him. However, I met him, as I have said, and 
 I did think it odd that he should be out hanging about at that hour, 
 and asked him the question, and then went and tried at several places, 
 and when I came back about half-an-hour after, I found the poor old 
 man with his eyes all staring, and his tongue half bit through ! and I 
 screamed out murder, as loud as I could, but he was quite dead ! and 
 it was a long time before I could get any of the neighbom's to 
 help me." 
 
 " Oh ! dat vas so early," said Mademoiselle Brochet : " if you got 
 back, mad-dame, in half-an-hour, dat could only be half past five- 
 nobody up so early. But, perhaps, you not quite so early as dat — 
 one often tell lie by mistake." 
 
 " Oh, dear no," cried Mrs. Scapulary, who chose to be very accu- 
 rate, " I wasn't five minutes past the half hour ; for I heard the clock 
 strike when I was over against the other corner of the church there, 
 and 1 had nothing to do but to walk liome and open the door." 
 
 " Oh, vary well," said Mademoiselle Brochet, '' if dat vas de case 
 it is all right." 
 
 " Why, I've sworn to it before the magistrates," said Mrs. Scapularj'. 
 
 " I am very glad to hear it, mad-dame," replied the young lady, 
 rising and making a low courtesy ; " I hope it may do you a tres grand 
 quantite of good, mad-dame. I vish you a sweet evening — vary moch 
 oblige by your pleasant information" — and away sailed Mademoiselle 
 Brochet out of the cottage, leaving Mrs. Scapulary in a flutter which 
 she could not well account for. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVH. 
 
 LAURA LONGMORE IN BED— WHAT MAY BE SUGGESTED BY A DREAM THE 
 
 PLEASURES OF MOONCALFING— AN ESSAY UPON LAUGHS^ — LAURA HAS AN IN- 
 TERVIEW WITH THE PEER, AND SEIZES AN OPPORTUNITY OF PROVING TO HER 
 
 FATHER THAT SHE WAS LESS COMBUSTIBLE THAN HE THOUGHT HER SHE 
 
 RESUMES THE GHOST— INTERRUPTS A TETE-A-TETE, AND GIVES A PIECE OF 
 WHOLESOME ADVICE. 
 
 Laura Long more slept soundly and sweetly — rosy dreams fluttered 
 around her pillow, and made the slumber that of soft repose, but not of 
 annihilation. She was no longer a prisoner : she had the means of escape 
 in her own hands, and the load that hung upon her mind during the 
 whole of the preceding day was now happily removed, leaving her bosom 
 to heave liglitly and her heart to beat free. Her last thoughts, as we 
 have shown, had been fixed upon the words of the falling butler, and 
 she had eagerly asked herself what those words could mean. Now, 
 
DP LTNATICO INQUIREKDO. 155 
 
 curiosity, as all the world knows, is a woman's virtue. We call it a 
 virtue deliberately, and may, perhaps, prove it to be so under certain 
 limitations, before we have done Mitli this extraordinary and most com- 
 prehensive book, and Laura was not without her share thereof ; but 
 besides this virtue she had in her disposition a good deal of another 
 excellent quality, called fun ; and as our natural disposition, or tastes, 
 habits, sentiments, and propensities, undoubtedly go on affecting us 
 diu-ing our sleeping as well as during our waking moments, Laura went 
 on dreaming of what the butler had said, and turning it to all the wild 
 purposes of imagination. She thought that she was playing ghost 
 again, but now deliberately and with malice aforethought ; and in her 
 dream she walked hither and she walked thither through Outrun Castle, 
 making very extraordinary discoveries, she knew not well of what, and 
 seeing extraordinary sights, she knew not well where. 
 
 Thus went on madam P'ancy all night, sitting astride of Laura's nose 
 — we wonder she did not tumble off; for though it was as pretty a little 
 nose as any in Europe, it was scarce large enough to be the hobby-horse 
 even of a grasshopper — and filling her brain with all sorts of curious 
 images. In the midst of all this our sweet little heroine awoke, and 
 lay for some time afterwards reflecting upon all that had gone on in 
 her own mind. It might be a curious question, how many great schemes 
 besides the manufacture of patent shot, have been suggested to mankind 
 by dreams. Not a few, reader, not a few — battles, sieges, stratagems, 
 plots, arts, devices : for though fancy be a frolicksome jade, and, where 
 you give her her head, will run away with you, yet still, wlien the rein 
 lies easy in sleep, and you let her gallop at her will, she will often take 
 you over a fence with an easy leap which would have cost you a mile to 
 go round, had you been riding any other horse, or prevented her from 
 having her own way. It was a dream first suggested to the mind of 
 Laura Longmore the idea of remaining voluntarily in Outrun Castle, 
 and enacting the ghost for her own satisfaction ; and as she lay and 
 pondered upon the matter, the bit of fun thus started seemed more and 
 more enticing every minute. What a strange thing human nature is ! 
 that having a key imder one's pillow should change the whole aspect of 
 a particular situation, and make that which was distressing, painful, 
 tedious, annoying — in short, a great bore — seem an excellent joke and 
 a very pleasant amusement. All the day before, Laura had been in a 
 state of the greatest depression — sad, sorrowful, anxious; but now that 
 she had discovered that little key, she was as gay as a lark, and the only 
 thing that troubled her was the thought that her father and Harry Worrel 
 should go on grieving for her as dead. Not that she did not feel a 
 great inclination to take up the ghost with Worrel also for a little, a 
 very little while, just in order that she might have the pleasure of seeing 
 herself mourned, and of removing the cause of mourning. But still her 
 first business was in Outrun Castle ; and how to remain the ghost there, 
 and yet to let her father know that she was in a substantial state of 
 existence, was a matter that puzzled her. 
 
 It is a pleasant thing to lie in bed of a fine spring morning and see 
 the lines of sunlight move along the floor, and hear the gay birds sing 
 their matin song, with all the sweet accessaries of country life, and a 
 
156 THE commissioner; OB, 
 
 young season and a young heart. Always have the window open, dear 
 reader, for there is something in the soft breath of spring, as he comes 
 with one wing perfume and the other music, which, while it plays 
 round your cheek as you lie and meditate, makes you feel as if 
 sweet kindred spirits had come from afar upon the broad pathway of 
 the sunshine to watch your repose and gratulate your waking. It is 
 a very pleasant thing, indeed, thus to lie and enjoy the otium which the 
 old poet spoke of, falsely by some translated idleness ; for there is no 
 time in all mortal existence in which mind is more active than when 
 that otium possesses the body — active in fine and high things, though 
 not, perhaps, in the dull and sordid cares of life, in the beastly 
 struggles, and the foul contentions of the working-day world, for, 
 thank God, man, or woman either, may be very active, though he" 
 be not engaged in mending, marring, grooming a horse, carpenter- 
 ing, joining, or cabinet-making, which six occupations comprise 
 amongst themselves in their different acceptations, ramifications, and 
 subdivisions, all the possible employments of a human being, except 
 moon-calfmg — as I will be bound to demonstrate to you, my lord 
 archbishop, any time you will set apart a day for the whole discussion 
 of the subject. 
 
 It is very pleasant, indeed, but the worst of it is — and the wor^t of 
 every other pleasant thing upon the earth — that it must have an end. 
 Thus liaura enjoyed herself very much for about an hour after 
 she awoke, but then foolishly getting ashamed of lying any longer, she 
 rose, and was beginning to dress herself, when the light tap of one of 
 the maids was heard at her door. They made their appearance once 
 more two together, but in the present instance this proceeding was 
 adopted, not in respect to any ghosts, but rather out of reverence for 
 their lord's commands, who had a great idea of putting one woman as 
 a check upon another. Having brought their fair charge all that was 
 necessary for her toilet, the maidens were about to retire, but Laura 
 renewed her application to Lord Outrun in a somewhat peremptory 
 tone ; and Jane, who was one of the two on the present occasion, re- 
 plied, in her pretty timid way, that she would tell his lordship as soon 
 as he came down, but that he never made his appearance before noon. 
 
 liaura's breakfast was brought at the usual hour, was eaten with a 
 much better appetite than the day before, and being finished was 
 cleared away. The window looking out into the park, became again 
 her resource ; and she was enjoying the sight of a troop of deer gal- 
 loping in single file across the park and leaping over a little rivulet 
 that obstructed their course, when a step heavy, but not slow, upon 
 the staircase, announced the coming of Lord Outrun. At the same 
 time, however, Laura heard a long, peculiar chuckling laugh, such as 
 might do honour to a prime minister. It may be asked, what's in a 
 laugh any more than a name ; but let me tell the reader, there is more 
 character displayed in the mode and the manner of a laugh, than in all 
 the speeches that ever were spoken, or all the looks that ever were 
 looked. I never yet knew a great man or a candid man, (and I have 
 known many of both,) from the Duke of Wellington to Dugald 
 Stewart, who had not a hearty outspoken cheerfiU laugh. But there is 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO, 157 
 
 a sort of low chuckling, mocking, insouciant cachinnation, which, 
 whenever you hear it, be it from whom it may, you may be perfectly 
 sure that that man is utterly impervious to every thing like a sense of 
 moral right and wrong. It is not that he is hard, or harsh, or firm, or 
 stern, or strong principled. No ; it is that he is utterly careless about 
 every thing, that he is of the hlaze. school of philosophy ; for I know 
 nothing else to call it, Avhose foundation is the extinction of all feeling, 
 and whose motto is indifference. They are all of them, almost to a 
 man, what are called devilish good-humoured fellows, and most of 
 them have a certain quantity of wit, for their blood is but soap and 
 water, and it requires no great skill to blow bubbles with it. 
 
 That low, chuckling, supercilious laugh was not exactly Lord Out- 
 run's characteristic, for a somewhat better spirit would occasionally 
 cause him to laugh loud and jollily ; but as soon as Laura heard it upon 
 this occasion she naturally said to herself — 
 
 " There is no chance of making any impression upon this man ; so 
 I must take my own way with him." 
 
 The moment after, the key turned in the lock, and the noble viscount 
 entered. His rosy face, which, if any thing, was of a shade deeper 
 than ordinary, was all smiles and blandishment ; and advancing to 
 Laura, he took her hand, saying — " How are you, my sweet young 
 lady ? More beautiful than ever, I declare ! Why, you are perfectly 
 resplendent." And he went on to apologise for not being able to visit 
 her during the preceding day, as all the sad business he had to go 
 through, coroner's inquests, ^c. — and he had very nearly laughed again 
 in spite of the rueful air he struggled to assiune — had occupied him 
 entirely. 
 
 " I am very happy, my lord, that you are come at length," said 
 Laura in a determined tone, tliough she knew it would be of no use to 
 try for her liberation, and did not particularly wish it. " I desire to 
 know upon what pretence, upon what motive, you have had me carried 
 away, and continue to keep me here ?" 
 
 " Upon the purest parental affection, my sweet friend," replied Lord 
 Outrun. 
 
 " A very curious token of affection, certainly," said Laura. 
 
 " But none the less sincere," replied the peer. " The fact is, that 
 since that unfortunate affair of my poor dear deceased Freddy, I cannot 
 bear the thought of your giving your hand to any one else, except 
 some one who is worthy to succeed him in your affections. I know 
 you were devotedly attached to liim." 
 
 " Your lordship is mistaken," replied Laura, who saw that the peer, 
 was so little affected by his son's death, that she need not be very 
 delicate in regard to his memory. " Your lordship is mistaken ; I dis- 
 liked him amazingly." 
 
 " Ah ! love has its whims," said the peer ; "love has its whims. 
 You were attached to him — only you did not know it: and, as I was 
 saying, I cannot bear the idea of one for whom I have so high a 
 regard and esteem as yourself, giving her hand to any body unworthy 
 to succeed the object of her first choice." 
 
 He had well nigh made Laura angry j and, perhaps, if she had not had 
 
158 THE COMmSSlONER ; OR,' 
 
 the key in her pocket she might have threatened to throw herself out of 
 the window, and do all manner of violent things. As it was, however, 
 she resolved to take the affair quietly, perhaps we may say a little 
 saucily ; but, if anger for ill treatment never vents, itself in a more dis- 
 agreeable manner, no great harm will be done. Laura got up and 
 made the peer a low and stately courtesy, saying — 
 
 " I am deejjly indebted to your lordship, and so will . doubtless be 
 my father, when he conies to know that out of pure parental solicitude 
 for me, you have inflicted upon him the bitter sorrow of supposing his 
 only child burnt to death, and have inflicted upon me the punishment 
 of solitary confinement. For my part, I estimate your lordship's favours 
 justly and to the full : my father will do so also as soon as he knows 
 them, and will endeavour to repay them in the most approved manner." 
 
 Lord Outrun did look a little foolish ; but as Laura spoke, a plan 
 came across her mind, and she added, before the peer could reply — 
 
 " May I ask if 1 am to be kept totally without amusement, as well as 
 without society?" 
 
 "Oh! I don't want to keep you without society, my dear," replied 
 the peer. " You shall have the whole range of the house and be my 
 little housekeeper, if you will promise not to run away. 1 will intro- 
 duce you to my nephew, who is very like poor Freddy." 
 
 " I will run away the moment I can," said Laura : " depend upon 
 it, I will not stay a moment longer than I can help." 
 
 " Well, then, my little dear-spirited thing," cried the viscount, " all 
 I can do is to give you amusement. Now, what sort of amusement do 
 you want ?" 
 
 " Books," said Laura, " music, drawing, a gallop across the park 
 upon a nice horse, would not be amiss ; and if that's not to be had, a 
 walk in the garden." 
 
 " Very pretty, by jingo!" cried the peer ; "but as neither galloping 
 nor walking will suit your health at present, I will send you up some 
 books and some tilings for drawing. I dare say, we can find a pencil or 
 two in the house." 
 
 " A crow pen and some Indian ink will do," said Laura, " if you 
 cannot. But remember, my lord, I insist upon beinnj suffered to depart. 
 I warn you tliat you keep me here at your peril, and that I will cer- 
 tainly seek redress as soon as I am at liberty." 
 
 The peer chuckled gaily, and seemed to think it vastly great fun to 
 see fair Laura Longmore in a passion, as he termed it. 
 
 " I will introduce my nephew to you as soon as he comes down," 
 said the peer. " He used to be a very nice handsome young man, and 
 he'll find means to console you I don't doubt." 
 
 I^aura did not deign to make any reply, but turned towards the 
 window, and the peer seized the opportunity to depart, saying that he 
 would send every thing to make her comfortable. 
 
 In about half an hour the two maids returned with a large basket 
 between them full of books, paper,, pencils, and writing materials ; 
 for Lord Outrun, confident of his own peo])le and tlieir perfect 
 obedience, had not the slightest apprehension of Laura making her 
 escape, or holding any communication with her friends. Her first 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIREKDO. 159 
 
 proceeding, however, was to write a brief letter to her father, in order 
 to quiet his mind, and the next question was how to get it conveyed. 
 She thus sat a long time pondering over the matter, thinking which of 
 the two girls she should try to bribe, or whether the old housekeeper, 
 who visited her from time to time, might not have a heel as well as 
 Achilles. At the end of about half an hour, however, she heard some 
 one whistling, and putting her head out of the window, she perceived 
 coming round the corner of the house a countryman in a smock-frock. 
 Her determination was taken in a moment, and she called to the man 
 to stop a minute, which he instantly did and looked up ; upon which 
 Laura giving him a nod with the most easy and unconcerned 
 look that she could command, went to a table, took up the note and 
 threw it out, saying, " If you will take that note, or send any one with it 
 to Mr. Longmore of Ivy Hall, you will get half-a-crown for your pains." 
 
 " Do it with pleasure, miss," said the mtm, taking up the note, and 
 Laura dismissing him with a nod, saw him walk across the park un- 
 questioned. 
 
 This being accomplished to her heart's content, she amused herself 
 in two ways : first in reading, and then constructing from some old 
 pocket handkerchiefs which she found in the trunk, a shade for the 
 lamp which was left with her at night, in such a manner as to give 
 it all the effect of a dark-lantern. 
 
 To do Lord Outrun nothing more than justice it must be said he fed 
 every part of his household in the best possible manner, and Laura 
 was certainly taken especial care of. Every delicacy of the season 
 was sent up for her dinner about half-past six o'clock, then came tea 
 and coffee, and at half-past ten the maids did not scruple to inquire 
 what she would like for supper. Dismissing tliem as soon as possible, 
 however, of which they were right glad, for the very atmosphere of the 
 place felt ghastly to them, Laura affected a desire to go to bed, but in 
 reality to prepare herself for her expedition with more care than she had 
 done upon the preceding night. The grey satin gown and the black 
 mantilla, were of course chosen as her garments on account of the 
 great effect they had produced and the disguise which the hood of the 
 mantilla afforded, but Laura made some additions to her toilet, having 
 discovered in tlie drawing-box which had been sent to her the means of 
 rendering herself much more ghost-like. To say the truth, had Jerry 
 Tripe but taken time to look he would have seen that the spirit of his 
 dear departed young lady was as delicately rosy as one of Albano's 
 angels ; but on tlie present occasion Laura did not scruple to besmear 
 the fine red and white of her skin with a mixture of white chalk and 
 Prussian blue, which gave her such a cadaverous appearance as to 
 make her start when she looked in the glass. Even after the clock had 
 struck twelve she waited till some remote sounds of merriment which 
 she heard died away, and then cautiously opening the door with her 
 mufHed lamp in her hand, she issued forth and took the same course 
 which she had followed on the preceding night. This time, however, 
 she descended the stairs in peace, and opening the door by which Jerry 
 Tripe had entered, she saw a long passage up which came the sounds 
 of voices, and that fact deterred her from proceeding any farther in that- 
 
160 THE COMMISSIOKER ; OR, 
 
 direction. On the other hand was another door to which she concluded 
 the respectable Jerry Tripe had been directing his course, when she en- 
 countered him, and opening it she perceived before her a short passage, 
 and another staircase with a fine mahogany balustrade. Not doubting 
 that this must lead to some of the better parts of the house, she 
 ascended with a noiseless step, and then followed a corridor which she 
 found at the top. At the end of it were three doors — one before her, one 
 on the right hand, and one on the left. There was a low murnmring 
 of voices too, as of persons speaking in little more than a whisper, and 
 not exactly distinguishing where the sounds came from, she opened the 
 right-hand door, with some palpitation of the heart it must be acknow- 
 ledged, but with a firm and noiseless hand. The moment she did so, 
 she saw before her a gallery with tall windows on one side and portraits 
 on the other. Her entrance was so noiseless that though the gallery 
 was not vacant she disturbed nobody, and by the single light which it 
 contained she beheld the pretty little housemaid, Jane, w.ith a candle in 
 her left hand, standing talking to a gentleman who held her right ten- 
 derly in his, and in whom, to her surprise and consternation, Laura 
 recognised no less a person than the Honourable Henry Frederick 
 Augustus Fitzurse ! 
 
 Poor Jane was in the midst of a vehement reply, to something that 
 the honourable gentleman had said to her — " No ;" she said with great 
 emphasis on each word ; " No, I will not. — I see you do not intend to 
 keep your word with me." 
 
 " Stuff and nonsense, Jane!" cried the hopeful heir of Outrun Castle. 
 " I will keep all my promises. Don't be a silly girl." 
 
 " Did you not promise to marry me ?" asked Jane ; " and are you 
 not going to marry this young lady, this Miss Longmore, that they have 
 got here instead ?" 
 
 " Pooh, nonsense ! I'll not marry her," cried Mr. Fitzurse. " Come, 
 come, Jane, don't be silly. I will marry none but you, depend upon it." 
 
 Mr. Fitzurse was going on, but Laura, having had time to recover from 
 her surprise, and to remember that Mr. Fitzurse was not the most cou- 
 rageous of mortals, and also fearing that she might hear something more 
 of their secrets than might be in any degree pleasant and delectable to her 
 ears, resolved to make a bold stroke for her ghostly reputation, and 
 advancing with a slow, silent, gliding step, towards the head of the 
 great staircase, which she saw at the other end of the gallery, she came 
 close before the eyes of Mr. Fitzurse with the light of Jane's candle 
 streaming full upon her quaint old habiliments and whitened coun- 
 tenance. Jane's honourable lover instantly staggered back with a loud 
 
 " D n it !" and Jane suddenly turning round with readily excited 
 
 terror saw the sight likewise, and with a vigorous scream let the candle 
 fall after the most approved fashion. 
 
 " Marry her !" said Laura in a deep solemn voice, but without 
 stopping her progress for a single moment ; " Marry her, or the fate 
 of your race will fall upon you !" and on she went, quickening her 
 steps, till reaching the top of the great staircase she turned round into 
 the right-hand corridor, which she concluded would lead her back to 
 her chamber. 
 
DE LtTNATICO INQUfRENDO. ISI 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII, 
 
 THE PEER EXPRESSES HIS OPINION UPON SPIRITS HE AT LENGTH HAS RECOURSE 
 
 TO ONE HIMSELF MR. FITZURSE OBJECTS TO BEINO BURIED ALIVE, BUT 
 
 CONSENTS TO WALK AT HIS OWN FUNERAL HE UNDERTAKES A CAPITAL JOUR- 
 NEY TOM HAMILTON FISHES, AND CATCHES A LAROER FISH THAN HE EXPECTED 
 
 —HE MORALIZES AKD EXHORTS, 
 
 " Seen the ghost ! By jingo, that's good," cried the peer, as he sat with 
 his son and Tom Hamilton at breakfast the next morning. " Freddy, 
 you are a ninny-hammer. There's no such thing as a ghost ; and no 
 spirit but brandy — that's worth drinking at all events. Never suffer 
 such stuff to get into your head as that, boy. You've been about some- 
 >vhat that you shouldn't ; and then that cursed, cowardly thing called 
 conscience has got hold of you, and made you fancy you saw some- 
 thing." 
 
 " But — I — did — see it," drawled forth Mr. Fitzurse ; " I saw it as 
 plain as the nose on your face." 
 
 "Not very plain, either," cried Tom Hamilton; "for, by Jove, his 
 lordship's face is all of one colour ; and his nose is like a spot in the 
 sun — one wants a smoked glass to see it. If you had said as plain as 
 Jerry Tripe's nose, I could have imderstood you, Fitzurse. But come, 
 tell us what the ghost is like : I should like to see it mightily." 
 
 " Pooh, pooh !" cried the peer ; " he was either drunk, or foolish, or 
 in a fright, or else some of the maids dressed themselves up to terrify 
 him. What was it like, Freddy ; what was it like ?" 
 
 " Ah, you may all laugh if you please," said the honourable scion, 
 " but you'd have been in as great a fright as I was, if you had seen 
 her." 
 
 " Then it was a she ghost," cried the peer ; "by jingo, she had better 
 not come near me, for I would make her pay for it one way or another. 
 What was she like, Freddy, I say ? was she a tall, long, lanky thing, 
 with goggle eyes, and a mouth from ear to ear ?" 
 
 " No, no,'' answered his son, who, to say the truth, had taken a 
 much more accurate survey of the supposed ghost than might have been 
 expected ; " she was young and pretty enough if she hadn't been so 
 white ; and she was not very tall either — something between the height 
 of Jane and Sally, our two house-maids ; but she was as white as a 
 sheet, and moved along without any step." 
 
 " She must have gone upon castors," said Tom Hamilton. " W^as 
 she dressed in a white sheet, Fitzurse?" 
 
 c. — NO. VI. M 
 
162 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 " No, not at all," answered his friend, impatiently. " She was very 
 like one of the pictures in the gallery — the third from the west door." 
 
 " Ay," cried the peer, seeming to be suddenly plunged by his son's 
 words into the stream of memory, and struggling for a minute against 
 the current, before he could reach the bank again ; " ay, poor thing ! — 
 
 D n her, she behaved very ill ; but 1 was sorry for her after she 
 
 was gone. Like that picture, do you say, Freddy ? Like my sister ?" 
 
 " No, mot just like that," said the Honourable Frederick Henry 
 Augustus — " not just like that, either ; for the woman in that picture 
 is all pink and rosy ; and the ghost was white and blue, but she had on 
 a grey, silvery sort of satin with a little black mantilla and hood though." 
 
 The rubicund countenance of the peer underwent some of those varia- 
 tions of colour which we sometimes see take place in the wattles of an 
 agitated turkey-cock. His face, in short, made a great effort to turn 
 white ; and though it could not accomplish the feat entirely, on account 
 of .certain pertinacious bumps and knobs which varied from red to 
 blue, under the emotion of the moment, yet the plain from which these 
 rose — the ground-plan of his countenance, if one may so call it — became 
 of an ashy paleness, and even his lips lost the hue of life. 
 
 " Hallo ! open the window," cried Tom Hamilton ; " throw some 
 water in his face." 
 
 " No, no," cried the peer, walking to the fire-place, and ringing the 
 bell. " No water, any way ! Jerry, give me a glass of brandy. 
 
 D n me, he saw the ghost too ! There must be something in it, 
 
 by jingo r 
 
 " But what's the matter, my lord ?" cried Tom Hamilton. 
 
 " What is the matter, most noble dad ?" asked Mr. Fitzurse. " I 
 never saw you turn pale at the name of grey satin before." 
 
 " Hark ye," said the peer, lowering his voice, "don't say any thing more 
 about it. It was in that very grey satin and black mantilla she was 
 dressed, when I caught her going to run away with the fellow from the 
 ball. I gave her a terrible horsewhipping, and they say she never 
 recovered it ; so I have not horsewhipped any one since. But don't 
 
 talk any more about it. D n me, Jerry Tripe, are you never going 
 
 to give me that brandy ? Do you wish me to die of gout in the sto- 
 mach ? Why you're as white as a sheet yourself, you fool — all except 
 your nose, and that looks like a red-hot shot on a snowball. Ha ! ha ! 
 ha ! ha !" and the peer laughed till the colour came back into his face. 
 
 " Ah, my lord — ah, my lord," cried Jerry Tripe, with his knees 
 trembling underneath him, " it's no joke, I can tell you. I saw her 
 myself, with my own eyes, just as she was that night ; and she asked 
 me^ ." 
 
 ** Hold your tongue, you idiot," cried the peer, seizing him by the 
 throat. " Get out of the room, and go into the library ;" and pushing 
 him out of the door, his lordship snatched the bottle of brandy from 
 the butler's hand, and, returning to the table, half filled one of the 
 tea-cups and drank it off. 
 
 ^"Fiddlestick's end!" he cried; "there's no such thing~as a ghost. 
 It's all a fudge. Freddy, I wonder you can be such a nincompoop r 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIEENDo/ "j63 
 
 Tom, I want some trout for dinner : can't you go and fetch me some, 
 and take Freddy with you ?" 
 
 " Why, my lord," replied Tom Hamilton, " that would never do. I 
 am liable to be arrested upon the coroner's warrant, and so is my 
 honourable friend, as they have it in parliament, for the jury brought 
 in their verdict against himself. No, no ; it would never answer for 
 one of the murderers to go fishing with the dead man. If I go at all, 
 I must put on my doctor's wig, and he must stay at home. But when 
 do you intend to bury him ?" 
 
 " I had forgot — I had forgot," cried the peer. " By jingo, we must 
 bury him I" 
 
 " I'll be d d if I'm buried," cried the Honourable Henry Fre- 
 derick Augustus. 
 
 " Not unlikely," said Tom Hamilton, drily. 
 
 "Nonsense, nonsense, Freddy," cried the peer; "you must be 
 buried. By jingo ! you shall be buried : but you shall walk at your 
 own funeral, my boy. You shall be your own cousin, and come down 
 from London to attend the sad ceremony. We'll get some Tyrian 
 dye, Tom, and black this load of whey-coloured oakum he's got upon 
 his cheeks ; and then, with a dark-brown Brutus, a white handkerchief, 
 and a black coat, he will look as imlike Frederick Fitzurse as a black- 
 faced ram to a white poodle. Then we'll introduce you to the young 
 lady, Freddy : you must be as sweet upon her as the bottom of an 
 unstirred teacup, press her home, get her to marry you, as the French 
 girls do, for the sake of her liberty, and then the old man's money is 
 secured beyond all chance or risk. But I must run and talk to Jerry 
 Tripe. You, Tom, go and catch the trout ; and we'll make a regular 
 night of it here, for we must keep the boy merry, now we have made a 
 corpse of him, and not let him get melancholy in his grave situation." 
 
 Thus saying, the peer quitted the room ; Tom Hamilton walking to 
 the window, with a look of thought such as did not often visit his 
 merry countenance. 
 
 . " So, Fitzurse," he said, as soon as the peer was gone, " you have 
 really seen the ghost, have you ?" 
 
 The promising young gentleman looked somewhat dogged, imagining 
 that his friend was going to amuse himself a little at his expense. The 
 weak and the vicious have always a misty consciousness of being open at 
 various points to the lash of censure and satire, not unlike that vague 
 and overpowering conviction of a future state, with its rewards and 
 punishments, which oppresses the mind of the sceptic. Both classes 
 attempt to shelter themselves under the assumption of a cold indif- 
 ference; but both are in reality sensitively alive to the least word that 
 shows them their weakness, their wickedness, or their folly. 
 
 "It is no use talking to you, Tom," said Mr. Fitzurse ; "but I 
 think my eyes are as good as another man's, let him be what he may ; 
 and what I saw, I saw. You may laugh if you like, but it's very true, 
 I tell you." 
 
 "Oh, I do not laugh at all," replied Tom Hamilton gravely. "I 
 Jielieve in ghosts fully, for my own pa^rt ; only it does not do to let it 
 
164 THE commissioner; oh, 
 
 out always, for fear people should laugh. I don't see any reason why 
 there should not be plenty of ghosts, though I never saw one. What 
 sort of a thing is it ?" 
 
 ' "Why, just like a woman," said Mr. Fitzurse, "only very white; 
 and then one could see the wainscot through it in different places yon 
 know, and all that sort of thing." 
 
 " What wainscot ?" asked Tom Hamilton. 
 
 "Why the wainscot just in the picture-gallery," rejoined the heir- 
 apparent of the house of Outrun. " It came in at the west door, or at 
 least from that quarter, and swept along by us out at the other side 
 by the great staircase towards the haunted rooms, as the people call 
 them. I have often heard people talk of it before, but never thought 
 that we should see it there." 
 
 " Us ?" said Tom Hamilton ; " we ? Then there was more than 
 one of you ?" 
 
 " Yes, there were two," said Mr. Fitzurse, winking -one of his fish- 
 like eyes in a significant manner. 
 
 " I understand — I understand," said Tom Hamilton, laughing ; 
 " but ril tell you what I would do if I were you, Fitzurse. You know 
 the actors and actresses won't perform upon the stage in any part where 
 there's a supper, without having real meat and drink before them. 
 Now I wouldn't be supposed, if I were you, to come down from Lon- 
 don to attend the funeral, without going up to London first, and 
 spending a day or two there. I'd go to his lordship directly, and 
 make him give me enough to carry me through for two or three days 
 in grand style. It is better being up there while you must lie dead, 
 than down here hiding away in your own room, like a rat that has 
 caught sight of the cat." 
 
 Mr. Fitzurse took the hint in a moment, not a little glad, to say the 
 truth, to get out of his state of temporary imprisonment. The plan 
 for conveying him away unseen, or, at least, unrecognised, was speedily 
 concocted between himself and Tom Hamilton, who, as the reader may 
 have perceived, had a peculiar genius for all sorts of plots and con- 
 trivances ; and that matter being settled, away he rushed to his worthy 
 father, whom he found in deep and earnest conference with that 
 respectable functionary, Jeremy Tripe. His lordship saw but one 
 impediment, and that was the money. 
 
 " My dear boy," he cried, " I've scarce got enough to bury you 
 decently. I'm sorry I did not subscribe to the burial society in the 
 village, where I see there are two or three places vacant ; but I've got 
 but thirty pounds in the house. We're hard up, I tell ye, Freddy, and 
 must get this girl somehow, or we're done." 
 
 Jeremy Tripe, however, like a generous and self-devoted servant, 
 came to the aid of his young master, and offered to lend him twenty 
 pounds out of his own private resources, which, as the reader is well 
 aware, he had peculiar means of recruiting, under the influence of the 
 fair planet : he exacted nothing but a note of hand bearing interest, 
 and the whole thing was speedily settled to the satisfaction of all. 
 Mr, Fitzurse was smuggled out of the castle, through the park, and 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. ' |65 
 
 by the fields, under the garb of a ploughman, and took his way to 
 London by the first conveyance he could find ; promising to return in 
 three days for the funeral, under the garb and appearance of a suppo- 
 sitious first cousin. 
 
 ' In the meanwhile, Tom Hamilton whistled three bars of the Welsh 
 air called, *' Of noble race was Shenkin," which perhaps might have 
 some occult reference to the family in whose dwelling he was domi- 
 ciled; and then tapping his forehead two or three times, he said, 
 " The picture-gallery ! Well, well, we will see. The ass hasn't wit 
 enough to get such a story up out of his own fancy : you might as well 
 imagine a deal box to produce the effect of the phantasmagoria, as 
 his thick head to produce any thing fancifid. No, no, there must be 
 some reality in the thing ; but I will soon see whether this ghost be 
 tangible or not. I've no great fear of it, if it come in an unsubstan- 
 tial form, and still less if it come in a substantial one ; but I'll shake 
 hands with it, whatever way it appears, or know the reason why." 
 
 Having formed this bold resolve, the result of which will be made 
 known to the reader at an after-period, Tom Hamilton retired to his 
 own chamber, donned a fisherman's dress of greenish fustian — let me 
 recommend the same to all my readers and true lovers of the angle, as 
 the only garb, when completed with a green velvet cap and broad 
 shade for the eyes, which will escape the shrewd glance of those wary 
 old trout, who liaving been pricked with the hook, take fright at every 
 thing that looks too bright — and with rod in hand, and basket upon 
 back, sallied fortli to the banks of the stream that ran through the 
 Outrun estate, totally forgetting the necessity of concealing himself 
 from the pursuit of parish-constables. 
 
 After flogging the water for an hour, and catching but two insig- 
 nificant fish, Tom Hamilton, perceiving that his speckled friends were 
 no longer at feed, sauntered down the river for three or four miles, and 
 then sat himself down upon the bank, constructing flies, and examining 
 lines, in order to give time for the gentry of the stream to recover 
 their appetite. He proposed to fish back again in the cool of the 
 afternoon ; and in the meanwhile spent his time very comfortably, being, 
 in fact, a man in whom a naturally good heart supplied occasionally 
 the want of principle, and with whom a warm imagination often, 
 prompted to that sort of meditation which, in others, is the child of a 
 thoughtful disposition. He liked to lock upon the water and see it run 
 glistening by, without very well knowing why or wherefore. He liked 
 to hear the birds singing in the bushes round ; he liked seeing the blue 
 water-fly play upon the bosom of the stream : it was all an enjoyment 
 to his mind, without the fatigue of thought, and thus a couple of hours 
 passed pleasantly over his head, in that careless sort of happiness 
 which was the temptation to half his faults : for depend upon it, good 
 reader, a great portion of mankind are wicked because their minds are 
 not active enough to be good. 
 
 Certain indications that he saw on the water near, the quick dart 
 of a small trout at a may-fly, and some passing clouds sweeping 
 over the sky, at length induced Tom Hamilton to try his hand again, 
 
166 THE commissioner; ok, 
 
 and this time he proved more successful than before. A voracious 
 fellow of some two pounds' weight was soon landed on the bank, 
 and walking gently onward, he took his way back to the castle 
 through a sweet valley, wooded here and there in such a manner 
 that it was scarcely possible to cast a line, but every now and 
 then opening out into small meadows, with the stream rippling along 
 between banks of tiuf, from which the fishing was most delect- 
 able. His basket was growing heavy, but with the pertinacity 
 of a true fisherman he went on, till the stream, broad and smooth, 
 though shallow, ran between some deep wood, which cast a cool 
 green shadow on the limpid surface of the water, scarcely suffering 
 the sun, even at his highest noon, to peep at the clear mirror which 
 reflected all the verdant things around. 
 
 Below was a tumbling pool of considerable depth, between high 
 cliffy banks wooded on one side, bare on the other; and as Tom 
 Hamilton knew that the deep eddies hereabouts were the resort of 
 many a patriarchal fin, he waded into the water above the pool, and 
 approached it with a slow and cautious step, there being no place on 
 the bank from which he could fish. 
 
 He had got his rod over his head, with the line and fly depending be- 
 hind, ready to cast the latter delicately to the tail of a ripple, where usu- 
 ally lodged a large sagacious trout which had often before set all his arts 
 at defiance. But just at the moment he was going to throw, there was 
 a quick step on the bank above, and looking through some leafy boughs 
 that made a green screen above his head, he saw a bonnet, and a 
 shawl, and fluttering ribands. The wearer approached the bank, not 
 perceiving any one below, and looked over into the tumbling waters of 
 the pool, gazing down upon them for a moment as if she had lost some- 
 thing. She then took a step or two back, paused for a minute, and 
 again ran quickly forward to the very edge ; but when she reached it 
 courage seemed to fail her, and she stopped. Pausing, she once more 
 looked down, while, still as death, Tom Hamilton watched the result, 
 without betraying his presence by a single movement. At length the 
 girl seemed moved by some sudden strong emotion, and clasping her 
 hands together, she cried, " My poor mother !" and leapt at once from 
 the bank. 
 
 The waters received her, and she disappeared with a gurgling whirl ; 
 but casting away rod and line, in an instant Tom Hamilton plunged 
 over the little ledge of stone which caused the rapid, caught the girl by 
 the cloak, and then by the arms as she rose, and holding her at a 
 distance to avoid the convulsive clutch with which she now sought to 
 
 frasp him, he swam with her to the bank, and drew her out, panting, 
 ewildered, and half dead. 
 " In the name of heaven, Jane !" he exclaimed, " what has made you 
 commit such a folly ?" 
 
 At first poor Jane did not answer him, but continued to pant, and 
 sob, and weep, for at least ten minutes. At length, however, she 
 recovered breath and strength ; and in that sort of epanchement of the 
 heart which au escape from any great danger is sure to produce 
 
BE LtJNATtCO INQUIREJCDO. 167 
 
 —especially in nouns of the feminine gender — she poiu'ed forth a story 
 which shall not be told to the reader. I rather think that it is 
 unnecessary, indeed, and that enough may have been guessed to render 
 all the first part of her history quite intelligible, without further ex- 
 planation. The second part may be told in the six words with which 
 she ended her tale. " And now he has left me !" she said, and cover- 
 ing her eyes with her hands, she again wept bitterly. 
 
 " Jane, you are a silly girl," said Tom Hamilton, who was suddenly 
 keized with a spirit of admonition. " Get up directly, go home, and 
 dry your clothes. You are a silly girl, I say, and have just committed 
 a very silly act. He has only gone to London for two days ; and if I 
 had not been by, would have come back on Friday, and found you 
 drowned. Never let your passions run away with you, or think that 
 you can remedy one wrong thing by doing another : it is like a 
 drunken man who takes another bottle of wine to sober himself, and 
 only gets drunker than before. Besides, my poor girl, of all the ills of 
 life, there is none irremediable but death : it puts the seal upon the 
 parchment, Jane, and conveys the estate away from us for ever. If 
 you should ever be tempted to do such a thing again, recollect, — first, 
 that you may not know much of the circumstances of the present ; 
 secondly, that you cannot know any thing of the circumstances of the fu- 
 ture. You may always be mistaken a good deal about your own situa- 
 tion at the moment ; you are almost certain of being mistaken as to 
 'what the next moment will produce. Here you mistook about Fitzurse 
 having left you altogether, when he is to return directly ; and you 
 thought in five minutes to have drowned yourself, and yet here you are 
 ■as much alive as ever. Perhaps, my good girl, if I had not been near 
 to save you, ere this time you might have found out likewise that you 
 had made a mistake in thinking that death is peace. So now, go home 
 and dry your clothes ; and if Fitzurse has promised, as you say, to 
 marry you ** 
 
 " 1 will show it to you, sir, in his own hand," said Jane. 
 
 " Then let us hope he will keep his word," replied Tom Hamilton : 
 
 ** I will try to make him do so By Jove ! what a fine fish ! I 
 
 must have him before I go. So run home and dry yourself, and say 
 your prayers, and take a glass of brandy and water." 
 
 Jane did as he bade her ; and Tom Hamilton instantly waded into 
 the water, and threw his line again. Whether it was that his morality 
 had steadied his hand, or that virtue is always destined to be rewarded 
 — I wish some one would reward mine — I know not ; but certain it is 
 that he caught the fish which had baffled him twenty times before, and 
 went on his way well contented. 
 
16B THE commissioner; or, 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 MK. I>E LUNATICO DINES IN GOOD COMPANY — SOME OPINIONS UPON POLITICS AND 
 
 COOKERY THE CHEVALIER FULFILS HIS MISSION HE RETURNS HOME AND 
 
 HEARS SOME PLEASANT NEWS, 
 
 Having now deliberately scattered all our characters over tlie whole 
 face of England, and left no two of them together, except Worrel 
 and the Chevalier de Lunatico, we shall presently proceed to bring 
 them all together again, just as natui'e, acting by alternate expansion 
 and contraction, produces all the marvellous operations of the physical 
 world. The truth is, dear reader — for this book, like all others of the 
 present day, professing to teach every thing that is necessary to be 
 known in life, I may as well give you a hint of my notions on natural 
 philosophy — the truth is, dear reader, that nature, which has been said 
 to act by impulses, does in reality act by expansion and contraction, 
 and thus is it brought about. This world, you are well aware, and all 
 that it contains, is composed of atoms — Dalton proved it, and I be- 
 lieve it. Each of these atoms has its poles ; and each is in a continual 
 whirl round its own axis ; but the apices of its axis are not its poles ; 
 and, in fact, are at right angles with them : consequently, the at- 
 tracting and repelling poles of each atom are alternately brought 
 in opposition to each other ; in the one case giving a tendency to 
 expand, and in the other to contract. Each solid body is in 
 truth a microcosm of atoms ; and each agglomeration of atoms acts 
 as a larger atom upon its neighbour, having its poles alternately at- 
 tracting and repelling those of the other, and tending to contract or 
 expand the whole mass. Thus the heart beats, the blood flows, the 
 seasons change, and all the other phenomena that surround us in this 
 strange, hydraulic machine, wherein the spirit has a lodging, take place, 
 expanding and contracting, even as the child expands from the cradle 
 into the magistrate's chair, and contracts again into the dust of the 
 coffin. 
 
 There, dear reader, it is as good a theory as any other, depend 
 upon it. I hope you understand it, though I do not quite myself ; but 
 as the old writers would have said — " there's something in it — and so 
 make the most of it !" 
 
 To return to our muttons, however. Before we re-unite, in the same 
 orbit, all our wandering stars, and make them finish out the course they 
 have only just begun — for heaven only knows where or how this book will 
 end — we must separate the chevalier from his young friend, for a time, 
 and take him to the first and last dinner-party which he was at in 
 London at this time. The invited, to the number of seven, were present 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 169 
 
 at the minister's house, at the appointed hour, with the exception of the 
 chevalier himself, who, knowing the best means of giving himself 
 importance, took especial care to be just sufficiently too late to make 
 the inviter turn his eyes to a small china clock, but not sufficiently out of 
 time to overdo the fish by a single bubble. The party all stood round a 
 small fire which had been lighted to make the place look cheerful ; and the 
 minister, who might perhaps have turned his back with contempt upon 
 the first literary or scientific man of his own land, being somewhat fond 
 of exhibiting rare birds, very naturally eulogized the chevalier to the 
 skies, simply because he came from the moon. On his right hand was a 
 fellow minister, named the Earl of Easygo, a stout and sagacious 
 personage, with a bland, good-humoured countenance, which might 
 have been rather dull had it not been for a certain expression which the 
 French would call Jin. On the other side was a very great man, 
 indeed : one who, to use the classical and highly expressive term of the 
 jiation, that dwell about the elephant and castle — was " up to any thing.'* 
 He had already filled half the offices of the government, and done a 
 great many other tilings. He was tall and stately in person ; and, hav- 
 ing a grand idea of his own personal qualifications, a strain of eloquent 
 insipidity hung ever upon his tongue, while his limbs fell into attitudes 
 almost worthy of Joey Pike. This was the Marquis of Abissee, who, 
 being greatly smitten with his colleague's account of the chevalier, 
 at the cabinet dinner of the day before, had particularly requested to 
 be introduced to him. Standing in front of them was one possessed of 
 no particular graces of person, and with a face in which it was difficult 
 to detect much intellect ; for, at first sight, it seemed more like a 
 nursery apple-pudding, just out of the cloth, than any thing else upon 
 earth. When one looked nearer, however, there might be seen in the 
 eyes a glance of strong intelligence ; while upon the lip hung the smile 
 of kindliness of heart and generous feelings : ay, and even amongst 
 the awkward motions of somewhat ungainly limbs there was the gentle- 
 manly air not to be mistaken ; the high spirit of a high race shining 
 through the crust in which nature had clad it, as we see the bright 
 internal fire through the fissures of the rude, grey lava. 
 
 A phenomenon, in the shape of a wealthy man of letters, made up the 
 fourth. Nature had intended him for a jester; and, had he lived some cen- 
 turies before, he might have lashed the follies of a court in a gay cap and 
 bells ; but fortune had set him on a couch of down ; and, as nobody 
 could doubt that his Hippocrene flowed from a rich source, he was held 
 a mighty judge of literature, and directed by his taste the ministerial 
 favours into such channels as he chose, when the stream of bounty 
 turned for a moment towards the arts. The rest of the party consisted 
 of several noughts, which after all are the most useful things both in 
 society and arithmetic, easily divided, easily multiplied, and in politics, 
 more than any where else, giving the value^ of place to the figure that 
 goes before them. 
 
 " An extremely clever man, indeed," said the minister to his tall 
 colleague, speaking apparently of the Chevalier de Lunatico. " An 
 extremely clever man, indeed j a keen diplomatist, I should think, with 
 
170 THE COMMISSIOKER ; OR, 
 
 all the jaunty and unconcerned air of our "good friend Metternich ; and 
 with that same shrewd, intelligent twinkling of the clear, grey, moon- 
 light eye under the bushy brow, which distinguishes the Austrian 
 Machiavel. He is evidently a liberal in principle ; indeed, he tells me 
 that such is the general feeling of his country. He sees clearly the 
 tendency and progress of the human mind towards the casting off of 
 all shackles, civil, political, commercial, and religious, and is undoubtedly 
 at heart, an advocate of a free trade in every thing except men." 
 
 " I am glad to hear he takes in women,'' said the Earl of Easygo, 
 chuckling. 
 
 " Good name, in man or woman — good, my lord, is the immediate 
 jewel of the soul," said the Marquis of Abissee, putting himself into 
 John Kemble. 
 
 " And, like diamond rings and other jewels, is very soon lost," said 
 the man of letters, " as your lordship must be practically aware." 
 
 " I am afraid, in this life," joined in the fourth statesman, to whom we 
 have not given a name, but whom we shall call Lord Fitznorth — " I am 
 afraid, in this life, that such jewels are very often false, Abissee ; and 
 that one half of our good dowagers, as well as of our dignified peerage, 
 if they would but unlock the casket and let us examine a little closely, 
 this 'immediate jewel of the soul* would be found to have nothing but 
 paste set in pinchbeck, while the real diamond had gone long ago to 
 the pawnbrokers." 
 
 All the noughts smiled simultaneously. 
 
 " He means the pop-shop, Abissee," said the Earl of Easygo ; " you 
 don't know what the pawnbrokers mean, do you ?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes, he must know very well," cried the jester — " as one of the 
 present ministry he must know very well." 
 
 " How so, how so ?" demanded the secretary of state. 
 
 " Because they have given so many pledges which they cannot re* 
 deem," replied the man of letters, " that none of them can be ignorant 
 of the meaning of " 
 
 " My uncle's," cried the earl, laughing. " You are quite right, you 
 are quite right. By Jove ! we shall have to pawn some of the crown 
 jewels next." 
 
 " Are you sure that your lordship has not done so already ?" asked 
 the jester. 
 
 Every one was silent, and the personage who had spoken felt himself 
 witty ; for the reader is doubtless aware, that a professed joker derives 
 one half of his reputation from saying things that most men would be 
 either too kind or too courteous to utter. 
 
 It was at this awful moment, when four at least of the men in the room 
 felt very much inclined to knock the man of letters down, and might 
 have done it too if they had not had the fear of ridicule before their eyes, 
 that the door of the room opened, and the Chevalier de Lunatico was 
 announced. He was dressed with his own peculiar neatness and pro- 
 priety, having on a dark blue coat with a considerable number of small 
 gold buttons, not unlike the star-studded sky of a clear night. The 
 lower part of his person was clad in black tightS; like the far edge of 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 171 
 
 the same sky, and lace stockings. His shirt, which was fastened with 
 studs of moon stone, had a small, fine, narrow frill, like the edge of a 
 white cloud; and his face was resplendently moonshiny, clear, and 
 intelligent, though there was a little empressement in his manner as if 
 he sought to appear ashamed of being too late, without being in reality 
 ashamed at all. 
 
 "I beg ten thousand pardons," he said, approaching the minister 
 with a quick easy air, and then setting his two heels altogether, and 
 making a formal bow, " I see by the clock in your hall I am ten 
 minutes too late. Is your time accurate ?" 
 
 " Solar time, chevalier ; solar time," said the minister. 
 
 " Ay ! unfortunately mine is lunar time," said the chevalier ; at 
 which the noughts laughed, thinking that he meant a joke, and the 
 jester lifted up his ears, under apprehension lest any one might 
 venture to trespass upon his ground. 
 
 " My Lord of Easygo, the Chevalier de Lunatico ! Abissee, the 
 Chevalier ! Fitznorth — Lord Fitznorth, Chevalier !" 
 
 The man of letters was next introduced, who thinking that he must 
 say something, replied to the chevalier's bow by inquiring whether it 
 was not very cold in his planet ? 
 
 " No, sir," replied the chevalier, " it is a great receptacle for hot- 
 headed men ; and, as far as I can see, there is no place in the universe 
 to be compared to this great town of London for cold-hearted ones." 
 
 " There are warm-hearted ones enough on the other side of the 
 channel," said Lord Fitznorth, " as you will find if you choose to visit 
 the sister island, chevalier.'* 
 
 " I shall certainly visit it before I have done," said Mr. de Lunatico, 
 "though I think I have formed a very just estimate of it merely from 
 hearsay.'* 
 
 "Hearsay! The great resource of all travellers," said the jester, 
 " and that which makes all their statements so very true.'* 
 
 " Hearsay !" exclaimed the marquis, " that will never do. Go 
 thither — go thither, and see. * Take physic, pomp,* expose thyself to 
 feel what wretches feel." 
 
 " But let the chevalier tell us what his notion is," said Lord Fitz- 
 north. " I should like much to hear. May we ask you to explain 
 yourself, Mr. de Lunatico ?" 
 
 " Certainly," replied our friend, with his usual graceful self-pos- 
 session — and let me tell the reader, that it requires no little self-pos- 
 session to be able at all times to explain what one means ; — " Certainly; 
 but first let me inform this noble lord, that my name is not Pomp, nor 
 Pompey either, — which I believe is the epithet of a poodle dog and a 
 Roman general. As to my notion of the sister island, as you call it, 
 my lord — though, to say sooth, you have shown yourselves * a little 
 more than kin and less than kind' towards her — as to my notion, it is 
 this. She is fertile in every thing that is good and beneficial ; warm 
 in her temperature, kindly in her skies, though somewhat subject to 
 storms; but owing to unskilful cultivation in some parts, and total 
 want of cultivation in others, the soil that might produce the most 
 
172 THIi COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 abundant harvest brings forth many weeds, — some noxious, some use- 
 less, some covered with gay and flaunting flowers, but poisonous in 
 their fruit ; while the most magnificent crops of all that is necessary 
 for social life go to waste for want of reaping, and everywhere over 
 the untilled land will-o'-the-wisps dance about to mislead the be- 
 wildered wanderer who sets his foot forth at night." 
 
 " Not a bad notion at all, upon my honour," said Lord Fitznorth. 
 " But we intend to cultivate it, my good chevalier, and bring all this 
 waste land into tillage." 
 
 " I am afraid, my lord," said the chevalier, " you have got a wrong 
 plough and bad beasts to draw it." 
 
 " You have doubtless got a new invention," said the jester. " I 
 never yet knew any man open his mouth about Ireland, who had not 
 some nostrum for her cure ; and like every one given up to quacks, 
 the patient has gone on from bad to worse, till now she is at the last 
 gasp." 
 
 " Dinner is upon the table," said a servant, opening the doors ; and, 
 marshalling his company with due gravity, the minister accompanied 
 them to his dining-room. The conversation was now entirely changed ; 
 wit, politics, learning, were all forgot. Cookery was the grand subject 
 that was discussed : and the host iiimself, decrying, as in duty bound, 
 the fare he set before his guests, vowed that there was too much sugar 
 in the soup ; too much lemon in the curry ; the fish had not not been 
 kept quite long enough — for it is a mistake to suppose that fresh fish 
 is a virtue ; that there was a soupcon of garlic in the fillets de lajyiuy 
 which was horribly unclassical ; and that the sauce-JRohert was nothing 
 better than chopped onions and vinegar. 
 
 *' The truth is," he said, " my chef is too fatigued. He exhausted 
 his whole genius on the dinner yesterday, and to-day you see the effects 
 of his lassitude." 
 
 Every body pronounced the dinner excellent, stood up for the 
 reputation of the dishes, and applauded the powers of the cook. 
 
 " He seems to know how to go from grave things to light," said the 
 joker; "for this vol-au-vent is not less excellent than that crapau' 
 di7ier 
 
 " And to know how to manage a blonde as well as a brunette," said 
 
 the earl, " for this bechamiel is dressed like the Duchess of S , 
 
 and that onatelotte, if it had but a string of jewels round it, might 
 
 pass for Lady L . After all," he continued, turning to the 
 
 chevalier with a smile, as if laughing at himself while he spoke, 
 " eating, as it is the first great necessary of life, is the grand and 
 only durable enjoyment ; the pleasures which are linked with it 
 are the only ones that last throughout existence, beginning with a 
 bit of barley-sugar, and ending with the partridge-panada, besides 
 all the graceful gradations of becasse and hecassine, kidneys, and 
 ducks' livers. Ambition, love, avarice, — they are all what your 
 Germans call einseitig, or one-sided enjoyments. Eating comprises 
 every thing, stretches over all space, extracts its inherents and its 
 accessories from every thing in nature, and, if appetite and digestion be 
 
I>E LUNATICO INQITTRENDO. 175 
 
 nicely balanced, affords that delightful alternation of desire and 
 fruition which is interrupted by no interval, followed by no incon- 
 venience." 
 
 " The gout, the gravel, and apoplexy ; indigestion, cardiac, embar- 
 rassment, bile, spleen, chalk-stone, and paralysis ; enlarged liver, 
 difficulty of breathing, hydrothorax, phlegmatous tumours, cancer, and 
 carbuncle, are things to which the vulgar are subject," said the che- 
 valier; "but which, of course, by what your lordship observes, are 
 unknown amongst the better ranks of society in your country. In 
 ours, they generally follow a certain long-continued course of good- 
 feeding, especially if it be carried to any degree of excess." 
 
 " They are always easily avoided," said the earl, smiling benignly 
 upon him. " Chevalier, a glass of wine ?" 
 
 " With pleasure, my lord," replied the chevalier ; " but may I ask 
 how you propose to avoid these things? the receipt will be worth 
 taking to my own country." 
 
 " I will tell you an anecdote," said the earl, after bowing over some 
 dry sillery. " There w^as once a famous man, known amongst us 
 of the nether sphere as the Regent Duke of Orleans. He was a pattern 
 to be imitated by all ministers and statesmen, having the grandest 
 imperturbability of mind, and the vastest conception of pleasure, that 
 any man ever possessed. Having given himself up for many years to 
 eating and drinking, and other things that shall be nameless, some of 
 his relations and flatterers, perceiving that he was growing somewhat 
 fat, somewhat sleepy, and not very steady on his feet, teased him till 
 he consulted a physician. The physician informed him, that if he 
 went on enjoying the same innocent pleasures to the same degree, he 
 would fall into palsy ; or if he exceeded, which he had lately done in 
 some ways, he would die of apoplexy. The regent gave him his fee, 
 but would not let him write, saying that he had already prescribed for 
 him in full ; and that very night he set hard to work, eating and 
 drinking more than ever. Every one asked him why he pursued such 
 a course ? to which question he replied, that it was his physician's 
 prescription. One of his monitors, however, once ventured to ask him, 
 ^A quelle fin ?^ To which he replied, laughing, ' A Vapoplexie ;* 
 which explained his object fully ; and at the end of about six months 
 he fell off his chair by the side of a very pretty woman, and was dead 
 before she could do any thing to help him. Thus you see, it is always 
 very easy to get rid of the terrible complaints you mention, without 
 any fracas of doctor's carriages and labelled bottles. A good strong 
 choke, an ineffectual bleeding, and the thing's done and over." 
 
 " And does your lordship intend to follow such a course ?" de- 
 manded the chevalier. 
 
 " Not exactly," replied the Earl of Easygo ; " my life's too valuable 
 to the country," and he laughed low but merrily. " You are probably 
 not aware," he added, subduing his voice almost to a whisper, " that I 
 am the only really patriotic man in the whole cabinet ? Sir, I am a 
 modern Curtius : 1 fill up the gap in the forum. What I mean is, 
 that all these other men find enjoyments in power. The exercise of 
 
174 1?HE COMMISSIONER ; OR^ 
 
 authority, the nightly logomachy of a house of parliament, the fancy 
 that he is ruling the nation, are all real pleasures to our friend there at 
 the top of the table : to me they are abominations that stink in the nose. 
 Money, and show, and dignified parade, are all the objects of our friend 
 Abissee there : to me they are vanity of vanities. While I have my town- 
 house and my country-house, and have my man-cook, and eat of every 
 thing that is good a little before the season, and drink the best wine 
 that can be procured for love or money, and receive and return the 
 visits of some score or two of pretty and not very severe ladies, keep 
 my name out of Doctors' Commons, and do not rise much before 
 twelve, I can be perfectly satisfied with a moderate income and easy 
 mediocrity. But the service of my country calls me : I abandon the 
 pursuits to which my tastes all lead, — I sit in the dull atmosphere of a 
 House of Peers, — I bore myself to death a full hour and a half each 
 day with the dull business of this dullest of all kingdoms. I act the 
 part, in short, of minister, solely and simply to keep together a party 
 disunited at every link, and to maintain them in those offices of which 
 they are so fond." 
 
 " But, my lord," said the chevalier, " you doubtless find within your- 
 self the talents necessary for such an undertaking ; and there must 
 always be a pleasure in the exercise of great abilities upon great 
 objects." 
 
 " Oh, dear, no," replied the earl. " I believe, it is true, that I have 
 about tenfold the talents of any of my colleagues ; but indeed, my dear 
 chevalier, I can but very seldom bring myself to exercise them at all 
 upon any objects, either great or small. There is nothing so great a bore 
 as business ; and although to you, who seem, I know not why, to com- 
 mand one's confidence, I do not scruple to own that I feel within 
 myself the power to write my name to-morrow upon the roll of fame, 
 if I like it ; yet I can assure you, I would not take the trouble of 
 mounting even a bill-sticker's ladder to placard myself among the 
 greatest men of Europe. Why, what is this you are giving me ?" 
 
 " Only an invitation," said the chevalier, " to spend a short time in 
 my country, where we will provide you with an easy-chair, in which 
 all your talents and high qualities will be forgotten to your heart's 
 desire." 
 
 ^ " Oh, very well," said the earl, thrusting the billet into his coat- 
 pocket without looking at it ; "I will come with great pleasure. W^e 
 will fix a day another time." 
 
 The chevalier had never seen one of his billets received with so 
 much nonchalance before, and could not help admiring the equability 
 of the noble lord's mind ; but his attention was attracted to the conver- 
 sation which was going on opposite, between the marquis, Lord Fitz- 
 north, and the man of letters. It seemed indeed a continuation of that 
 Avhich had taken place in the drawing-room, concerning Ireland ; and 
 the noble Lord Abissee was strongly contending for the necessity of 
 putting a stop to crime in that country, by pardoning all offences ; and 
 stopping riot and tumult, by discharging every magistrate that at- 
 tempted to prevent them. Lord Fitznorth somewhat differed from his 
 
DE LUXATICO INQUIBENDO. J 75 
 
 noble friend ; and the jester said that the marquis's plan put him in 
 mind of the old fable, in which a man having been bit by a dog, dipped 
 a piece of bread in the blood and gave it to the beast, whereupon the 
 dog immediately bit him again. 
 
 " The way to stop roguery," exclaimed the marquis, " is decidedly 
 to encourage rogues. It is only from want of encouragement that 
 they are not honest men. The unjust partiality shown in bestow- 
 ing favours and honours upon the upright, the peaceable, and the 
 virtuous alone, naturally irritates and excites the neglected and ill- 
 treated party of the violent, the turbulent, and the dishonest ; they 
 claim M'ith a loud voice a ftiir share of the goods that are denied them, 
 and sooner or later — if you resist the first great principle of equity, 
 which teaches you to treat all men alike, without favour or distinction 
 — they will exert that physical force, which exists in the masses, and 
 take the portion which your injustice has denied them." 
 
 " Hear, hear !" cried their host, who had marked with signs of great 
 approbation the speech of his noble friend ; but the chevalier took 
 out another billet, and as the table was too wide for him to hand it 
 across, he held it in the palm of his hand ready to slip into that of the 
 marquis as soon as they rose from table. 
 
 The conversation went on in the same strain for about three quarters 
 of an hour more, and then the dessert having been concluded and a 
 sufficient quantity of wine imbibed, coffee was served, Avhich seemed 
 to bring its own particular sort of conversation with it ; parties, feasts, 
 and entertainments became the topic ; pretty women, fine ancles, beau- 
 tiful eyes were discussed and commented upon ; and at length the 
 carriages were announced, and the chevalier took his departure, 
 slipping his billet quietly into the hand of the marquis, who looked 
 startled and aghast when he read the contents, w hile the earl laughed 
 merrily and offered him a place in his carriage to the moon. 
 
 The vehicle which contained the chevalier rolled him rapidly back 
 to his dwelling-place, and mounting the stairs in a slow and meditative 
 mood, he was surprised to hear from the sitting-room in which he had 
 left Worrel, the sound of voices talking loud and gaily, and a light peal 
 of laughter in Worrel's own particular tones. On opening the door, 
 however, his wonder was redoubled, for there at the table with his 
 young friend, with a bottle of wine between them, his good-humoured 
 face radiant with smiles, his pig-tail as stiff as that of a young 
 porker, his bald forehead shining like a mirror, and a blue coat 
 with a powdered collar, and gilt buttons upon his back, was no other 
 
 than Jerry Longmore, Esquire, late of Ivy- Hall, in the county of . 
 
 Never was there, so cheerful a countenance as Mr. Longmore bore ! 
 Harry Worrel, too, Harry Worrel himself, whom the chevalier had 
 left falling rapidly into a state of lackadaisicality, which he expected 
 would soon carry him to the grave, was now looking as blithe as a 
 morning milk-maid, and with a glass of wine raised nearly to the level 
 of his eye, was exclaiming, " Here's success to her pursuit !" 
 
 The chevalier paused, contemplating the scene, and thinking 
 whether he had two more tickets in his pocket j but as soon as they 
 
176 THE commissioner; oh, 
 
 saw him, both Mr. Longmore and Worrel started up ; one caught him 
 by the one arm, and the other caught him by the other ; they drew 
 him to the table, presented him with a glass of wine, and exclaimed 
 simultaneously, " Drink, drink our new toast — health and long life to 
 our dear Laura ! She's alive, chevalier, she's alive !" cried Harry 
 Worrel. " Mr. Longmore has had a letter from her in her own hand." 
 
 " Yes, my dear chevalier," said Mr. Longmore, " she must be in- 
 combustible. Nothing set her on fire but love : ha, Worrel ?" and he 
 touched his young friend on the fifth rib with the tip of his fore-finger. 
 " We are a wonderful family, chevalier — we are a wonderful family ! 
 We may well say now, that we will go through fire and water to serve 
 our friends." 
 
 " Well," said the chevalier, " if she be alive and well, that is all 
 we have to care about, and the best news it is that I have heard since 
 I came from the moon. Here's dear Laura Longmore, and long life 
 to her." 
 
PE LUNATICO IKQUIEENPO. - 17^ 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 JEBRT TRIPE IS RAISED TO THE POST OF AMBASSADOR THE QUALIFICATIONS OF A. 
 
 MONOSYLLABLE MB. TRIPE, LIKE ALL WISE PLENIPOTENTIARIES, TAKES A UIOH 
 
 POSITION LOVE BRINGS HIM LOW HE COMMITS A FAUX-PASi WHICH PROVES A 
 
 DIRTY BUSINESS HE IS RESCUED AND CONSOLED. 
 
 " Go immediately, Jerry Tripe," cried the peer, after the Honourable 
 Henry Augustus Fitzurse had taken his departure — " go immediately 
 and see for it. I will not be without it any longer ; the woman can't 
 know the value of it. I don't believe he destroyed it." 
 
 " Nor I either, my lord," said Jerry Tripe ; " for he told me he 
 hadn't, three months ago, when I just delicately hinted that it might 
 be as well to diminish the annuity your lordship gave him." 
 
 The reader will perceive — perhaps may have perceived long ago-— 
 that the word "it" is the most convenient, comfortable, extensive, 
 comprehensive, benevolent, 'and sublime in the English language. 
 Like charity it covers a multitude of sins ; like equity it makes no 
 distinction of sexes, ages, qualities, or degrees; it spares many a 
 blush, it saves many a lie, it tells many a pleasant tale without divulg- 
 ing any secret, it conceals many an important fact from the ears of all but 
 those who ought to know them. It leaves that misty indistinctness about 
 any object that chooses to shroud itself under its mantle which is one great 
 source of the sublime and poetical ; and amongst all the contentions 
 of logicians and grammarians, nouns, pronouns, and genders, it stands 
 neuter. How often does an "e^" mean the sweetest, how often the most 
 terrible thing in life ? " Will you do it, dearest ?" may mean, " will you 
 steal a long, sweet, pleasant walk with me through shady lanes and 
 flowering fields, and hear me tell a tale of love often told, but always 
 dearer for repetition ?" I have done it, may mean, I have broken a 
 father's heart, murdered a dear friend, seduced an innocent girl, or 
 any other of those blasting acts that wither up the stems of happiness 
 within us for ever. 
 
 Whatever was meant by the it which the noble viscount and his 
 trusty coadjutor employed on the present occasion, they took especial 
 care to use no more definite and sturdy expression ; and, consequently, 
 we must not venture to explain that which the parties concerned kept 
 secret. The pronounce, however, was very soon 'made more intelli- 
 gible by Mr. Jerry Tripe, who, upon his lord directing him to go down 
 and tear it out of his coffin if he could not find it elsewhere, exclaimed 
 — «'Why, my lord, the old earth-worm is buried j they buried him 
 yesterday morning." 
 
 c. — NO. VI. ^ 
 
476 THE COMMISSIONER ; OK, 
 
 " By jingo !" exclaimed the peer ; " why the breath was scarcely out 
 of his body." 
 
 " Oh ! yes, my lord," replied the butler, shooting a shrewd glance 
 at him along the line of his proboscis. " Mrs. Scapulary declared he 
 began to stink." 
 
 " More than probable, more than probable," cried the peer. " By 
 jingo ! the old vermin has been worse than the butt end of a fox for 
 the last ten years. However, we must have it, Jerry. Go down and 
 contrive it somehow : coax and wheedle, and bully and threaten, and 
 bribe and corrupt, and any thing — but get it. You are never at a loss 
 for a resource, Jerry; and, if needs must be, promise her a hundred 
 pounds. I will give her a bill for it." 
 
 " Which will be read this day six months, I suppose, my lord," said 
 Jerry. , 
 
 " Yes, yes," cried the peer, who was a learned man in his own way ; 
 <* we will date it on the thirtieth of February, and pay' it in the Greek 
 kalends.** 
 
 " I understand, I understand, my lord," replied the butler. *' I will 
 set out directly, and offer the widow my assistance in looking over her 
 accounts." 
 
 Thus saying, he made his bow and departed, taking his way across 
 the park towards the gate nearest to the house of Mrs. Scapulary. As 
 Mr. Tripe, though a stout and portly man, was an active one also, and 
 carried his flesh with vigour, he had soon reached the gate of the widow, 
 passing over, by a small foot bridge, the little stream or rather ditch 
 into which the sewer of the village emptied itself. 
 ' The cottage of the defunct Mr. Scapulary came close upon this 
 ditch, and many people marvelled that he was fond of such a residence : 
 some profanely assigning as a reason, that the ditch, as seen from his 
 window, bore exactly the appearance of a large grave ; and others less 
 coarsely asserting, that it emitted an odour of fresh earth which they 
 supposed must be pleasant to the olfactories of the sexton. 
 
 Mr. Tripe found Mrs. Scapulary in the parlour, standing'upon a tea- 
 caddy put upon the seat of a chair, for the purpose of examining the 
 top of a corner cupboard — " her poor deceased Scapulary," as she ob- 
 served, " having strange ways with him, especially in regard to hiding 
 away sums of money in divers extraordinary places." 
 
 " Let me help you, my dear creature," said Jerry Tripe, as the lady 
 'explained to him the cause of her elevation. " I know all the good 
 jnan's tricks and contrivances." 
 
 " Ah ! you were an old friend of his, I think, Mr. Tripe," replied the 
 lady, in a mournful tone. 
 
 " Oh ! I knew him many years," said the peer's butler, « before 
 you were born or thought of, my dear : but I'll help you with 
 all my heart. You know I'm a man of honour, and will pocket 
 nothing." 
 
 ^ Mrs. Scapulary wished that others would act upon the same prin- 
 ciple; and thinking Mr. Tripe a very nice man, she^accepted the aid 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 179 
 
 he proffered, watching him notwithstanding out of the corner of her 
 eye, to make quite sure that his fingers were not like the measure 
 lent to Ali Baba by his brother, which the reader will -recollect was 
 so well greased with fat, that a piece of gold adhered to it, without 
 being discovered by the person who employed it. 
 
 Up she got upon the chair again, and Jerry Tripe upon a stool 
 hard by ; and he looked at the top of a commode, while she moved 
 some little porcelain flower-pots and an old hat on the top of the cup« 
 ^oard. Jerry Tripe thought this a very fitting opportunity for break- 
 ing the business upon which he came ; and now, raised from the 
 surface of the earth like two church steeples, they held a long conversa- 
 tion, in the course of which Mr, Tripe explained to her that he had 
 come down by his lord's order to receive from her, as the dead man's 
 representative, a certain piece of paper which belonged to his lord* 
 ship, but which had always accidentally been left in the hands of 
 Mr. Scapulary. 
 
 " And pray, Mr. Jerry, what is it ? and what is it like ?" said Mrs. 
 Scapulary. 
 
 " What it is," replied Jerry, " I cannot tell ye ; but it is very like 
 a leaf out of a register. However, there's the name of old Mapleson, 
 the present parson's grand-uncle, upon it. So if you find it, let me 
 have it directly ; for it is no use to any one except my lord, who wants 
 it to make up the genealogy of the family." 
 
 " 1 didn't know that they had any geenyj^ replied Mrs. Scapulary ; 
 ** or alogy either for that matter." 
 
 " Lord bless ye !" exclaimed Mr. Tripe, powerfully astounded at her 
 ignorance. " Genealogy is what makes every father know his own 
 son." 
 
 " It's a mighty clever thing then," said Mrs. Scapulary. " But, 
 however, I haven't seen the thing yet, or I'd give it you. Just look in 
 that dark corner, Mr. Tripe." 
 
 Mr. Tripe Stretched forth his hand, and said nothing for a moment, 
 but then returned to the attack, saying in an insinuating tone, " Old 
 "Scap. used to keep it in his breeches-pocket, I think." 
 
 " Ay then that blackguard !" cried Mrs. Scapulary, thrown off her 
 guard. " That blackguard has got it with the rest." 
 " What blackguard, my dear lady ?" asked Mr. Tripe. 
 " Wh}^ the murderer, to be sure," replied Mrs. Scapulary, recover^ 
 ?ng herself, with immense and wonderful presence of mind. " When 
 I came back, Mr. Tripe, upon that eventful morning, the first thing 
 I saw were the poor dear breeches in the middle of the floor. They 
 were grey breeches, Mr. Tripe, as you well know, and both the pockets 
 were turned out. Now, I know for certain, that there was a good lot 
 of money in those pockets, fo>r he used always to keep some stray 
 guineas, and two or three bank-notes, and a number of other papers in 
 his right-hand breeches-pocket, notwithstanding all I could say. But 
 he was an obstinate old devil, it must be confessed. They're all 
 gone, howsumdever, and the register leaf amongst them, I'll bet." 
 
180 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 " Goot tay, maddame I goot tay ; how did you was. I am extreme- 
 ment glad to see you up so high. Hope to see you higher yet, wid all 
 my heart. Good mornin', sair ! hope you be vary well, but I see it, 
 indeed — you got such colare in your nose." 
 
 " Who the devil is this ?" asked Mr. Tripe in a loud whisper. 
 
 " Oh ! a French woman from London," said Mrs. Scapulary. " She's 
 always about the cottage now. I wonder why she comes boring 
 here?" 
 
 The lady seemed to catch the last words, and replied with a smirk 
 and a courtesy — 
 
 " No ! no ! you mistake. My name not Boring. Doctor Boring 
 
 bore de House of Commons. He bore de country. D n large 
 
 bore he make too. Bore many thousand pounds out of it, sapristy. 
 But you come down, dear Maddame Scapulaire, I tell you something 
 very nice." 
 
 And approaching a chair. Mademoiselle Brochet shook her petti- 
 coats, and sat down with a smirk and a simper, and then fell into an 
 attitude of pretty languor, which might have suited Perlet in one of 
 his many transformations. 
 
 " Well, I never saw !" said Mrs. Scapulary, " these French women 
 do take it easy. What is it that you want, Miss Broshay ? You see 
 I am busy now looking for things." 
 
 " Oh ! not de least hurry out of de vorld. I can wait so long as 
 you please. This goot gentilman will descend and amuse me. Stand- 
 ing there wid his nose over de ar moire. He put me in mind of what 
 I hear one leetle boy say — he clap himself upon his ventre^ and say, 
 * My belly cry cupboard !' " 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha !" cried Jerry Tripe. " She's a jolly girl, upon my 
 life!" 
 
 And slowly descending from his stool, he approached Mademoiselle 
 Brochet, and entered into an interesting conversation with her. 
 
 Mademoiselle Brochet, as the reader may well suppose, was not in 
 the slightest degree backward, but met the advances of Mr. Tripe 
 with the most perfect ease, grace, and cordiality that it is possible to 
 imagine. She fluttered, she smiled, she nodded, she wriggled, she 
 glanced, she twittered like a swallow feeding its young ones ; and, in 
 short, a regular flirtation of a very serious character speedily com- 
 menced between the English butler and the French waiting-maid, so 
 that worthy Mrs. Scapulary began to find herself one too many. Her 
 stern virtue, however, was not of a character to suffer her to wink at 
 the tender frailties of our nature ; and descending first from the tea- 
 caddy, and then from the chair, she approached Mademoiselle Brochet 
 and Mr. Tripe, for the express purpose of interrupting them. The young 
 lady, however, was the most perfect French woman that ever was seen, 
 and seemed to have clasped on under her stays, that charming im- 
 perturbable self-satisfaction from which, as from a coat of armour, all 
 *'the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" turn off" innocuous. 
 Even^ being interrupted in a tete-a-tete j ^could not throw her off her 
 
% 
 
 ^ ^ 
 
 ^^/Ae-'^.'h 
 
 r 
 
 \ 
 
4 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 181 
 
 axis, and she turned round to greet the widow with as sweet and sim- 
 pering a smile, as she had greeted Jerry Tripe. 
 
 " Oh ! Maddame Scapulaire," she said, " I be glad to see you 
 brought down. I have one leetle secret for you — Do you ever do any 
 ting against de law ?" 
 
 "Lord have mercy, no!" cried Mrs. Scapulary. " What can the 
 woman mean ?" she muttered to herself. " She always keeps me in a 
 fright. Any thing again the law ? I would not do any thing again 
 the law for the world." 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh !" cried Mademoiselle Brochet, " I mean leetle ting, 
 leetle ting ; not commit murder or robbery." 
 
 Mrs. Scapulary turned as white as a sheet. 
 
 " Lord, Mr. Tripe !" she exclaimed, " did you ever hear ? 
 
 She makes me think of my dear defunct Scapulary." 
 
 " Fidonc /" cried Mademoiselle in her pretty interesting way. 
 " Nevare you let any body make you tink of de dead husband dat is 
 gone. Awkward subject dat, Maddame Scapulaire : always tink of de 
 living one dat is coming. What use to get rid of de one, and be one 
 widow, unless to get de oder, and be one wife again ?" 
 
 " Very true ! very true !" cried Jerry Tripe, squeezing her hand. 
 " That is the true philosophy of the matter." 
 
 Mademoiselle Brochet gave him a leer that scorched him to the 
 back bone ; and adjusting her ringlets, with a look at the glass oppo- 
 site, she went on as follows : 
 
 " Veil, but my dear Maddame Scapulaire, de leetel vickedness dat I 
 ask you about is not at all vary big. Vat I mean is de contraband. 
 You ever buy de beautiful lace, de pretty silk stocken, de charmant 
 gloves ? All so sheap too. No price not nothin' at all. And you, my 
 dear Mr. Tripe, de beautiful silk handkerchief, de foulards magni- 
 Jiques. Oh I so charmant I when you blow your nose — and a vary 
 important nose it is — you feel as if you got him in a cloud, die foulard 
 is so soft." 
 
 " I shan't buy none on 'em," said Mrs. Scapulary, turning up her 
 nose, and mentally resolving that if Mademoiselle Brochet troubled 
 her much more, she would denounce her for a smuggler. " I shan't 
 buy none on 'em. I never cheat the revenue." 
 
 " Bah !" said Mademoiselle Brochet. 
 
 " Fiddlestick's ends !" said Mr. Tripe. " I shouldn't mind half a 
 dozen at all, mademoiselle ; and if you were to bring them yourself 
 about nine o'clock up to the castle, we could just take a glass 
 of cura^oa together in the pantry, and talk about all manner of 
 things." 
 
 " Oh ! but I not know de way," said Mademoiselle Brochet. 
 
 " Oh ! it is just through the park," said Mr. Tripe. " Go over the 
 little bridge here near the door, then by the stile into the park, and 
 straight on. You can't miss it." 
 
 " Oh ! but I be frighten," said Mademoiselle Brochet. "I be 
 frighten to go trough de park all alone at night." 
 
\Q2 ' THE COMMISStO^'ER ; OR, 
 
 /' ril come and meet you at the stile, my dear," said Mr. Tripe. 
 
 "Ah!" said Mademoiselle Brochet, with a well-satisfied simper, 
 " you vicked man, I tink, Mr. Tripe ; but I will trust you." 
 . " Woman, dear confiding woman 1" cried Mr. Tripe. 
 ^' You show me de way to de stile, now^," said Mademoiselle Brochet* 
 " Maddame Scapulaire, I kiss your hand. I bring you, one of dese 
 days, one little ting as a present; ajolie cravatte, so fine, so fine, it- 
 will go through one vedding ring. Vary nice, indeed, to tie round de treat 
 — only must not tie it too tight, Madame Scapulaire — might strangle; 
 you you know. Ha, ha, ha ! ha, ha, ha ! very funny, Meester Tripe." 
 
 " I don't think it funny at all," said Mrs. Scapulary. "Never see; 
 such a woman in my life !" 
 ~ " Dare say not,^" said Mademoiselle Brochet ; " nor I, nevare. 
 Adieu, adieu !" and with a low courtesy, and with a graceful bend of; 
 the head, she tripped out of the cottage, Mr. Tripe following her, and 
 merely pausing to say, " don't forget the paper, my dear lady." * 
 
 " No, no," said Mrs. Scapulary, impatiently ; " you shall have it if 
 I find it ; but I'm sure the murderer took ft away with him — at least if 
 it was in the grey breeches-pocket." 
 
 Mr. Tripe was by the side of Mademoiselle Brochet in a minute : 
 fie found her pausing, in delicate hesitation, at the little foot bridge) 
 over the sewer and the stream which we have mentioned. Well might she 
 do so indeed ; for it consisted of nothing more than two planks with- 
 out a railing ; and below appeared a pool of somewhat black and 
 odoriferous water, at the edge of which even a pair of ducks, who 
 would have scavengered Lethe itself, stood in doubt and hesitation as> 
 to whether they would venture into the dark abyss before them. 
 
 " Suffer me to hand you over, mademoiselle," said Mr. Trip6f 
 passing round her, advancing upon the bridge, and offering the tips of 
 his fingers. 
 
 Mademoiselle followed timidly and slowly, step by step ; but just 
 when they had reached the middle of the bridge, w here the elasticity of 
 the planks began somewhat to be felt, the young lady became ter- 
 rified, and exclaiming with a nervous shriek — " Oh ! mon DieUf I shall 
 tomble in," she made a violent effort to save herself by catching at Mr. 
 Tripe's collar. 
 
 It w^ould seem that she missed her mark, however, and only succeeded 
 in giving the worthy butler a terrible push upon the back which at 
 once overthrew his balance. With a fearful squelch the large persoA 
 of Mr. Tripe descended upon the dark waters, and was for a moment 
 submerged, while Mademoiselle Brochet, after running on to the other 
 side, stood wringing her hands, and exclaiming, " Oh, 7non Dieu \ Oh I 
 Tripe, mon cher Tripe, you are drowned, you are lost ! you are per^ 
 du. Help, help!" 
 
 Out rushed Mrs. Scapulary just as Mr. Tripe rose like Neptune front 
 the bosom of the waves. His mother, had she seen him, would not havt 
 Jinown her awn son: not Tyrian dye, not henna and indigo could have 
 restored the somewhat silvered locks of Mr. Tripe to their original 
 
K*^' 
 
f^:* 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 183 
 
 blackness with half the effect of the waters from which he rose. His 
 face, too, his eyes were all in tracts of swarthy slime ; and the only- 
 thing that, proudly overcoming all that attempted to cloud its lustre, re- 
 mained in statu quo, was the notorious nose, which, like the morning 
 sun scattering away the clouds of night, burst rosy through the dark- 
 ness that shaded the rest of his countenance. 
 
 " Ah, voila mon Tripe !" exclaimed Mademoiselle Brochet. " Here, 
 here ! tenez, tenez ! I will pull you ashore, I will save your jolie life,'^ 
 and she stretched out to the gasping butler the hook of her parasol. 
 
 If drowning men will grasp at straws it is not wonderful that Mr. 
 Tripe seized eagerly the parasol ; and had not Mademoiselle Brochet 
 possessed some tolerable portion of strength the violent tug he gave 
 would have pulled her in likewise. With skill, discretion, and firm- 
 ness, however, she drew him towards the bank, giving him, it must be 
 confessed, many an unsavoury dose of the black fluid in which he 
 swam, but landing him at length safely, and then congratulating 
 him most kindly upon his deliverance. 
 
 " Ha !" cried Jerry Tripe, when he was safely seated on the grass — • 
 ** ha ! how could you serve me such a trick, Miss Broshay ?" 
 
 " A treek ?" cried Mademoiselle — " I serve you no trick — you very 
 near pull me into the vatare, my Tripe. Ah, good Maddame Scapu- 
 laire 1 if you could but bring a john-towel we would wipe him." 
 
 " A john-towel ?" cried Mrs. Scapulary. " A jack-towel you mean, 
 
 g"*l" . . . . .' 
 
 " Oh, out ! John or jack, all de same ting in Englis," cried Made- 
 moiselle Brochet. " But you bring one towel, and we wipe him, for he 
 is one vary dirty man." 
 
 " I say, Mrs. Scap," said Jerry, "haven't you got a drop of some- 
 what short to give us ? — I dare say you could find a glass of gin." 
 
 " That I will, Mr. Tripe, with pleasure," said Mrs. Scapulary — for 
 all people have some good point in their character, and hers was that 
 of being really liberal in spirit — and away she went into the house to 
 fetch the gin bottle and the towel. 
 
 During her absence Mademoiselle did all that was in the power of 
 woman to console the afflicted Mr. Tripe. 
 
 "Ah!" she exclaimed, -'^ to see your beautiful countenance , all so 
 black, vid de nose just peeping trough like a rose-bud! but you will 
 soon be quite lovely again ven you have got off dis dirt. A terrible 
 place this world is, nothing bote man and woman aUvays making one 
 false step, and having one leetle fall. Oh, very shocking ! But we get 
 up again, put on de clean clothes, wash our face and hands, and tink 
 of it no more." 
 
 The moralizing of Mademoiselle Brochet did Mr. Tripe very con- 
 siderable good, and the gin of Mrs. Scapulary confirmed the beneficial 
 effect. The latter sweet lady had not only brought a clean towel but 
 had brought a clean mop also, which, being dipped in somewhat purer 
 water than the stream afforded, was soon applied to cleanse the great 
 bulk of the sufferer's person, after which the two ladies^ approaching 
 
184 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 somewliat nearer, delicately wiped his face, neck, and ears. Made- 
 moiselle Brochet tenderly smoothing down his knarled proboscis, which 
 felt under her hand very much like a ripe fig in the sunshine — so warm, 
 so soft, so smooth was that rubicund organ. 
 
 When all this was accomplished Mr. Tripe felt himself again, and 
 springing up with his usual elastic step, he declared his readiness to 
 pursue his way. A few words passed between him and Mademoiselle 
 Brochet, in the course of which that young lady promised to pay him 
 the proposed visit with thefoulardsy at nine o'clock that night ; and 
 having seen him fairly into the park, and marked well the path she was 
 to follow, she took her leave with signs of sorrow, and tripped back 
 into the village, while Mr. Tripe wended on his way to the castle, 
 fancying himself quite a fortunate gallant. 
 
 His lord, however, was by no means satisfied at the result of his 
 mission. He stormed and stamped, and swore several large oaths ; 
 but as Mr. Tripe had a strong hold upon his affections,' by the pos- 
 session of all his most intimate secrets for many years, the peer did 
 not resort, in his case, to either of the two means of correction which 
 he occasionally had recourse to with his other domestics, namely, horse- 
 whipping them heartily, or kicking them from the library out of the 
 fVont door ; and his passion having worked itself off in expletives, he 
 left the renowned Jerry, to seek consolation of the kind best suited to 
 his tastes. 
 
DE LUNATTCO INQUIRENDO. 1^$ 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 TOVl*S GHOST STOBY — HOW THOMAS HAMILTON, ESq. KEPT UP HIS COtTRAaE — HOW 
 
 HE CARRIED IT tJP STAIRS SPILLING SOME BY THE WAY HOW HE HAD A STRIKINO 
 
 PROOF OF THE SUBSTANTIALITY OF A SPIRIT. 
 
 The shades of night liad fallen over Outrun Castle ; dark and sombre 
 clouds floated in the sky ; the twinkling stars veiled their light ; no 
 pleasant moon lifted her lantern aloft to show the weary wayfarer his 
 way ; the queen of the fairies herself had caught cold, and was sitting at 
 home taking James's powders with a pocket-liandkerchief to her nose ; 
 while Oberon was left to play what pranks he pleased all in tlie dark 
 and nobody to look after him. The especial chamber of Mr. Fitzurse, 
 which since his death had been the scene of so much merriment, was 
 now as gloomy and vacant as if the funeral had actually taken place ; 
 and the peer and Tom Hamilton sat together in the library, cracking 
 jokes and bottles with very little loss of time. Towards half-past 
 eleven, however, the viscount began to be a little fidgety. 
 
 " I think, Tom," he said, " that I shall go to bed." 
 
 " What ! before you've finished^ the bottle, my lord ?" cried Tom 
 Hamilton. 
 
 " Oh, we'll soon manage that, Tom,'* said the peer : " we'll have 
 tumblers. It's odd, by Jingo, about that ghost. It's all nonsense I 
 know, but ^" 
 
 " Ton my life, my lord,'* said Tom Hamilton, who had his own par- 
 ticular views of the matter, " I don't know ; I fancy there are few things 
 more clearly proved, which we have not seen with our own eyes, than 
 that ghosts have appeared at different times. Now it does not always 
 require to have seen a thing oneself to believe it. I never saw Mount 
 Etna, for instance ; and yet I have very little doubt that there it is as 
 I see it on the map, stuck on upon one side of Sicily, like the minute 
 dial at the side of a doctor's watch. I don't see why I should doubt 
 the existence of a ghost or its appearance either. How many respect- 
 able people have seen them ?" 
 
 " Pooh, nonsense," cried the peer, " it's all stuff. First, people must 
 show me that there is such a thing as spirit ; and then they must show 
 me that the spirit is like the body ; and then they must show me that 
 Mr. or Mrs. Ghost has some object in coming." 
 
 " Oh," replied Tom Hamilton, " I don't suppose they come for 
 nothing. Depend upon it, they have some object when they do come. 
 We always hear that such is the case. They come to punish some 
 great criminal, to discover some murder, to divulge the hiding-place of 
 some treasure, or something of that kind. I recollect hearing a very" 
 curious case of apparition, which nobody could make any thing of." 
 '. " There was a young lady," continued Tom Hamilton, who had not the 
 
1-86; THE COMJVnSSIONEB ; OR, 
 
 slightest inclination in the world to set the peer's mind at ease, "there was 
 a young lady, the daughter of a gentleman whom I knew very well, who 
 fell, or fancied herself, in love, at an early time of life, with a lieutenant 
 in the navy. Her father was very well to do in the world, and the young 
 lieutenant was not badly off; but it was agreed between all parties that it 
 \ypuld be better to defer the marriage till he was a captain. So he went_ 
 tp seain the Firefly, which was wrecked upon the Goodwin shortly after, 
 when all hands perished. Amongst the rest who went down was poor 
 Charles Clare, for such was the lieutenant's name. The thing had its 
 nine-days* wonder, and was forgotten ; and Martha cried and wore 
 mourning, and refused two or three elderly gentlemen. But at length 
 a very pleasant fellow of the name of Bearcroft, a man of good for- 
 tune, and in short, a thorough country gentleman, took a great fancy 
 tp her, wooed, won, and married her, some three years after Clare's 
 death. She was now about one-and-twenty ; and I recollect her both 
 a very pretty girl and a very sensible woman. But there was always 
 something very strange came over her from time to time. Her eyes 
 would suddenly becpme fixed pn the pther side of the room, and for a 
 moment or two she would seem bewildered and absent. One time I was 
 watching her in this state, when her husband took me by the arm and 
 said, ' Come away, Tom. She sees the figure.' As you may suppose, 
 when I had him alone I asked for an explanation. Upon which he 
 tpld me, that frpm time tp time ever since their marriage she had sud- 
 denly seen a figure with its back turned, tpwards her, which she cpuld 
 »pt get put pf her sight, dp what she wpuld — except by pne means. 
 It mattered npt whether the rppm was full pf company or empty, the 
 figure wpuld cpme in, and her pnly plan was tp take up a light and 
 walk straight at it. This she used frequently tp dp when she was 
 alpne, as she had npt the slightest fear pr nervpusness abput it, which 
 is the mpst singular part pf the whple story. It used always to retreat 
 as she came forward, till it got fixed against the wall; and then as 
 she walked on, it remained quite still, till she was within about a yard 
 of it, when it suddenly disappeared. She never saw its face, at least 
 for many years, but its general appearance was that pf a stput man, iii 
 a fisherman's jacket, with a glazed hat pn. She used tp talk with hei? 
 husband abput it frequently ; and Bearcrpft tpld me a curipus trick 
 that they had played the ghpst, but the ghpst wpuld have its pwn way,; 
 and beat them. Halving asked her tp let him know whenever it 
 appeared, she one evening suddenly exclaimed, ' There it is, my Ipve,. 
 standing by the edge pf the table, pn the left-hand side next the dppr/ 
 
 " Bearcrpft instantly gpt up, and by her directipns tried tp put him* 
 self in the place pf the ghest. Fpr spme time she cried, ' Ypu are 
 before it, ypu are befpre it, but it is still there. I can see an arm, a bit- 
 of the hat.* 
 
 " Bearcrpft went on, however, till he was just at the place where sh% 
 said it stppd, when suddenly she gave a little cry pf surprise and ex- 
 claimed, * How strange, it has come round before you.' 
 ' *' This sort of thing went on till they had been married about four 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRESDO» ISf 
 
 years, and had two children ; and never were two people more happy, 
 or more attached to each other. One day, however, at the end of the 
 four years, Bearcroft came back from hunting, and found his wif^ 
 drowned in tears. ^ ., 
 
 " ' What is the matter, my love ?' he said, 'what has vexed you?' T 
 
 " ' I have seen its face, Henry,' she answered, ' I have seen it»- 
 face!' 
 
 " < Well,' he cried, * what like was it ?' 
 
 " * It was Charles Clare,' she replied. * Oh, Henry, I promised ttf 
 wait his return for seven years, they are over to-day, and I am sure 
 he came to reproach me for forgetting my promise, and for loving 
 you,' she added, casting herself upon her husband's neck, ' better thajct 
 I ever loved him.' " 
 
 " Well," exclaimed the viscount, who had looked over his shoulde? 
 twice, " well, what came of it, Tom ?" 
 
 " Why, the figure never appeared again," answered Tom Hamilton* 
 but nine or ten months after, poor Mrs. Bearcroft died quite suddenly 
 and unexpectedly." 
 
 " Ring the bell, Tom, there's a good fellow," said the peer, " and 
 stir the fire. I'll have glass of cura9oa, and go to bed." 
 
 Jerry Tripe was some time appearing, but when at length he did 
 come the peer took two glasses of curacoa instead of one, and ap- 
 parently very much refreshed, made his worthy butler light him up 
 stairs. 
 
 " Take care of yourself, Tom," he cried, " take care of yourself* 
 There's lots of good stufi" going, so keep up your courage, alid if you 
 meet with the ghost, floor him." - 
 
 Tom Hamilton smiled, stirred the fire, took another glass of win^ 
 and then gazed into the blaze, listening for the dying away of all 
 sounds in the castle, and muttering to himself, " We will soon see who 
 is this tricksy spirit. It is not poor .Jane, for in her mood this morning 
 the whole truth would have come out ; but I suspect much it is Madame 
 Sally, playing a trick upon her companion and Fitzurse. By Jove, if 
 it is I will have a kiss for my pains. All's quiet now, I think," and 
 he listened for a moment or two ; but before he rose from his chair, ^ 
 distant door banged to, and Tom Hamilton sat down again. 
 
 He would not take any more wine, for fear of the consequences, 
 and he proceeded to ask himself, " I wonder, after all, if there are 
 such things as ghosts ?" He put it in a quiet, calculating, philosophi* 
 cal mood, without the slightest application, at first, to the present 
 case. He had never felt the slightest apprehension of such unsubstan- 
 tial visitants in his life, but he very soon convinced himself, as he sat 
 by the fire and pondered over the matter, that the arguments which he 
 had used to the viscount, more as a joke than any thing else, were not 
 altogether without foundation. 
 
 " After all, there must be ghosts," he said, " not only from what we 
 have heard, but from what the Bible tells us. It's a long time since I 
 read my Bible, alas, but I recollect Very well the ghost of Samuel 
 appearing to Saul," ; :* 
 
i88 THE COMMISSIONER; OR, 
 
 Tom Hamilton looked into the fire and meditated. 
 
 " It can only be upon great occasions that they come, however,'* he 
 continued, after pondering over the matter for a while — " It can only 
 be upon great occasions, and nine cases out of ten are mere humbug. 
 I should like to see a ghost too — Devilish funny it must be. I wonder 
 •what the feeling would be ? Take a good deal to frighten me, I fancy. 
 Not a bad way of punishing a bad man, after all, for any one whom he 
 has ill-treated, to come back and worry him night after night. I have 
 heard that this rakehelly old lord treated his sister monstrously ill, and 
 «ome people say, killed her by his bad usage, all because she fell in 
 love with a young cornet of dragoons without a sixpence in his pocket. 
 Ton my soul, I shouldn't wonder if it were her ghost after all." 
 
 Tom Hamilton paused and listened again. Now, dear reader, there 
 IS something in the very act of listening attentively, when all is silence 
 round us, that promotes fear. The nerves which conduct from the 
 tympanum of the ear to the brain become surcharged with nervous 
 fluid ; the brain itself, in the neighbourhood of the auricular tubes, is 
 stimulated and excited, a quivering sort of vibration takes place through 
 the whole mass of the sensorium, which, running rapidly along all the 
 great railroads of the human frame, communicate a certain degree of 
 trembling down to the very tips of the toes, but especially about the 
 prsecordia and the hypochondriac region. It is quite right that the 
 reader should know how it all goes on ; for the natural philosophy part 
 of the thing is quite as good as the moral, and in very close connexion 
 with it. 
 
 Tom Hamilton listened attentively and long, as a hare does when 
 she stops in the midst of a fallow. For two minutes and a-half 
 all was silence ; but then there was a sudden foot-fall, and Tom 
 actually started. One might have seen him blush through his black 
 whiskers at finding himself growing nervous ; so he put forth his hand 
 towards the wine. The five-fingered messenger passed the claret, and 
 the sherry, and the madeira, but laid hold upon the port — a good, sub- 
 stantial, vigorous, courageous juice," which we would advise all readers 
 to apply to when called upon to do battle with a ghost. Tom took a 
 claret-glass full, and laughed at himself. 
 
 " These d n servants," he said, " do just what they like in this 
 
 house ; sit up junketting and carousing long after everybody else is 
 gone to bed, and spend the peer's money right and left. I wonder the 
 house isn't a lying-in hospital. I shouldn't wonder if this whole ghost 
 story were got up by them just to cover their goings on." 
 
 The footsteps died away, and Tom began to listen again. Thus 
 passed some minutes more, and then, all being silent, he rose, walked 
 slowly to the door, opened it, and looked out. A lamp that was hung 
 in the passage was blinking sleepily, but there seemed to be nothing 
 else with an eye open in the house. Tom Hamilton looked back, and 
 considered whether he should put the lights out ; but he went back and 
 did it, and then took his way with a quiet step along the passage. 
 
 Fear is a very odd thing in its way ; not at all difficult to be got 
 hold of if one tries hard and resolutely : but the most expeditious and 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 189 
 
 excellent method of arriving at it is, to be afraid of being afraid. The 
 man who begins to think whether he shall feel fear or not, may be sure 
 that he has got hold of it by the tips of the fingers. Tom Hamilton 
 was in a little bit of a twitter, it must be confessed, but he was not 
 one to give way to any thing of the kind ; and, consequently, marching 
 on quietly, he approached the foot of the great staircase. It was a 
 wide, old-fashioned, open contrivance, built upon the principle that we 
 generally avoid in modern houses, of combining magnificence of ap- 
 pearance with convenience, rendering the ascent not too rapid, and 
 giving the climber room to set his foot. First came a long, straight 
 flight of steps, not more than four inches high, with a balustrade as 
 broad as a dining-table on one side, and tall, dark, oak panels, sur- 
 rounded by carved garlands of flowers, on the other, while on a centre 
 pier between those panels was fixed a bracket, bearing an old helmet, 
 belonging formerly to some distinguished and defunct Fitzurse, The 
 stairs themselves were at the least six feet wide, and the banisters were 
 formed of squat pillars of oak, somewhat perforated by the worm. At 
 the top of the first flight was a landing-place, with the same banisters 
 carried round as a balustrade. The length might be eighteen feet, and 
 then again began another flight, ascending at the same dignified and 
 easy angle as the first. This led up to another landing-place, at the 
 top of which branched off", at right angles with each other, two long 
 and wide passages. That to the left was in itself a splendid room, 
 with four tall windows and broad piers on the one hand, and a long row 
 of family portraits on the other, only interrupted by two richly-carved 
 doors, leading into rooms no longer tenanted. 
 
 At the farther end of this picture gallery, opposite to the staircase 
 were two more doors, one leading to a little chapel, or oratory, 
 and the other being that by which Laura had obtained entrance 
 on the preceding night. The second passage we have mentioned led 
 past the room of our pretty little heroine, being in fact, the corridor 
 down which she usually made her voyages of discovery ; and the whole 
 of this part of the building was considered by the servants in general 
 as haunted ground. The picture gallery, however, having been pointed 
 out by Mr. Fitzurse as the actual scene of ghostly interference in his 
 private affairs, thither Tom Hamilton bent his steps, and ensconced 
 himself in one of the deep door-cases we have mentioned, ascertaining, 
 in the first instance, that the door was locked. 
 
 So far he had been lighted on his way by the faint twinkling of the 
 half-extinguished lamp in the hall below, though, to say truth, (without 
 meaning a pun,) the greater part of his expedition had been a matter 
 of feeling. For a quarter of an hour he waited in solemn silence. He 
 thought it was an hour at least ; but during all that time he could catch 
 a faint glimmer from the hall below reflected on the balustrade on the 
 top of the stairs. Suddenly, however, the light became redder, and then 
 as suddenly disappeared, after which came a strong oleaginous odour, 
 not the most agreeable to the nerves of the snout, showing that the 
 lamp, for want of oil, like a minister with a bankrupt exchequer, l^ad 
 voluntarily resigned its office* 
 
1^0 THE CQTtfMISSIOKER ; OH^ 
 
 Tom Hamilton thought it very mipleasant, and rather unfair of 
 the lamp, and began to entertain doubts as to whether the ghost 
 woujd appear. Turning his eyes from the direction in which the light 
 had lately shone, he looked to where the windows were, and, though 
 he could very well hear them as they rattled under the rude touch of 
 the burglar-wind, and as the rain pattered against them, yet he could 
 fiee nothing — no, not even the line of the frame or the lead-work. 
 ' Tom Hamilton began to think his expedition somewhat silly. <' J 
 never heard," he thought, " of the man who went out to seek for a 
 ghost finding one in my life. It is always those that don't want them 
 who meet with them. How the wind blows and rattles ! I've a great 
 mind to go to bed." 
 
 Just as the thought crossed his mind, he heard a very beautiful 
 voice — low and plaintive — coming he knew not whence, and seeming 
 to float in the air above him, singing to an air he had never heard 
 before, the following words: — 
 
 ghost's bono. 
 
 ** Stay, stay, why so soon ? 
 
 Patience wins what hope foretold; 
 Down the sun and up the moon 
 Rise fond thoughts from times of old. 
 
 ** Impatience ruins joy, 
 
 Earnest truth will brook delay; 
 Eager youth breaks life's first toy — 
 Those who would enjoy, must stay." 
 
 "D — nit! this is very odd!" said Tom Hamilton to himself. 
 ** What the devil can be the meaning of this ? That is neither milk- 
 maid nor dairymaid, housemaid nor housekeeper. Hang it, this ig 
 enough to make one nervous! I'll stay and see what comes of it how- 
 ever." 
 
 He did stay; and about five minutes more elapsed, while listening 
 with all his ears, and holding his breath as long as he could, he heard 
 only two things — the rattling of the windows and the beating of his 
 own heart: and, if curiosity and a sense of shame had not prevented 
 him, he M'ould certainly have found his way down stairs, and into his 
 own room, as fast as possible. At length he thought he heard another 
 sound, a sort of low moan ; but he soon convinced himself that it 
 must have been the sighing of the wind, and he resolved that he would 
 be steady. A moment after, a sudden light broke along the passage, 
 but disappeared so instantaneously that he concluded it must have pro- 
 ceeded from a flash of lightning dimmed by the rain. No thunder, 
 however, followed ; and he looked eagerly up and down the dark gal- 
 lery, saying to himself — 
 
 '' By Jove, the ghost must be coming at last. 'Pon my life I feel 
 Very cold and creepy !" 
 
 Next instant there was decidedly a sound, a very ghostly sound indeed. 
 It was tap, tap, tap, as if a soft, and not very substantial, knuckle had 
 
BE LUNATICO INQUIBENDO. i^ 
 
 been applied to a door. If it was any signal, there was no answer; 
 and again there was a tap, tap, tap. Tom Hamilton listened with all 
 his ears, and, in about two minutes after, heard a low rustling, shifting 
 noise gently coming along from the top of the staircase. Book-musliu 
 would have made it, but there would have been a difficulty in pro- 
 ducing it by any other instrument. It became more and more distinct, 
 approaching nearer and nearer, without any foot-fall that he could dis^ 
 tinguish. Tom's heart beat like fury — many a brave man's heart 
 would do so under similar circumstances. The castle clock struck 
 one with its loud, deep, solemn tone, as if to say " Beware!" at that 
 very moment. But Tom had set his life upon a cast, and he woul^ 
 stand the hazard of the die. 
 
 " Now or never, Madame Ghost," he thought, as the rustle swept 
 close to him ; and, darting forward with outstretched arms, be made t 
 clutch in the direction of the sound. 
 
 " By Jove, it's muslin 1" exclaimed Tom, who had caught hold of the 
 tail of a gown. 
 
 " Atrappe pardi !'* cried a voice. " I will not be stop, sair !" 
 
 And at the same time the chivalrous ghost-hunter received a sub- 
 stantial straightforward blow in the face, which laid him flat upon his 
 back. 
 
 At the same moment a bright light shone suddenly through the 
 gallery, and Tom, as he struggled up, saw two female figures instead of 
 one — the first clothed in white muslin, and evidently running away from 
 him as fast as her legs could carry her ; the other, pale as the wan 
 moonlight, clothed in the glistening grey satin-gown and black mantilla, 
 which had been described to him, gliding solemnly along at some dis- 
 tance in the other direction 
 
 The light instantly disappeared again, and the voice which he had 
 heard singing, pronounced — ** Meddle not, Vain fools ! meddle not !" 
 
 Tom Hamilton trembled from head to foot, and had no power to 
 follow his friend in the muslin, so struck and overawed was he by the 
 other apparition which he had beheld. Creeping down stairs as fast as 
 ever his limbs would carry him, he made his way to the library, where 
 to his joy and satisfaction he found the fire still burning brightly. 
 Having no match or paper at hand, he thrust one of the candles into 
 the fire, and nearly melted one half of the wax before he could light it, 
 so terribly did he shake. Then pouring himself out half a tumbler of 
 port, he drank it off, and took a long deep breath. 
 
 " This is folly !" he exclaimed. " This is cowardice ! I have a 
 great mind to rouse the whole house ! — But yet there can be no doubt 
 of that other figure ! — That was no living being! And the voice, too ! — 
 I'll go back again with a light ! I'll not be intimidated this way by 
 ghost or devil ! I'll go back with a light !" 
 
 And leaving one of the candles burning on the table, he took the 
 other in his hand, and boldly marched up stairs, looking all the way 
 around him, however, as he went. With rather more haste than was 
 needful he made his way into the gallery, and approached the scene of 
 
iy2 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 his adventure. But nothing was now to be seen. All was quiet and 
 still. On the floor, indeed, lay a piece of muslin, which he had torn 
 out of the gown of his somewhat striking friend, when he fell under the 
 direct application of her gentle hand. But nothing else was there. 
 And taking it up, Tom Hamilton muttered — 
 
 " We will identify the jade by this to-morrow. But that other 
 =iigure ! It is very strange ! So pale, so care-worn, and yet so very 
 beautiful ! I wonder which is her picture ?" 
 
 And carrying the light along from one portrait to another, he paused 
 at length in surprise and awe before an exquisitely beautiful represen- 
 tation of a young lady, some seventeen or eighteen years of age, in 
 the very dress he had beheld. 
 
 " Perhaps, after all," said Tom Hamilton to himself, " I had better 
 not say any thing about this affair ?" And with this prudent resolution 
 he walked down stairs again, and went to bed. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 193 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE CHEVALIEE, WORKEL, AND MB, LONGMORE, eONSPIKE TO GO TO A BALL CIA'IC 
 
 FESTIVITIES THE CHEVALIER DIFFERS WITH TERPSICHORE, AND FORMS HIS OWN 
 
 OPINION OF DANCING MK. LONGMORE STANDS UP IN DEFENCE OF THE FANTASTIC 
 
 TOE A CIVIC magistrate's IDEAS OF RISING IN THE WORLD AN UNEXPECTED 
 
 GUEST MR. FITZURSE FINDS HIMSELF MORE DEAD THAN ALIVE HE IS NOT 
 
 TREATED WITH POSTHUMOUS HONOURS BUT MAKES HIS ESCAPE IN GREAT FEAR 
 
 OF THE NOMINATIVE CASE, NEUTER GENDER, OF THE RELATIVE PRONOUN THE 
 
 CHEVALIER IS INTRODUCED TO ALDERMAN ROTUNDITY, WHO PROVES SOMEWHAT 
 TOO CLASSICAL HE GIVES INFORMATION AND AN INVITATION! 
 
 " Let us go," cried Worrel. 
 
 ** Let us go," cried the chevalier, 
 
 " Let us go," cried Mr. Longmore. " There is no saying where we 
 may find her, or hear of her, or get some clue to where she is." 
 
 "Andiam, andiain, andiamor they all exclaimed together, as if they 
 were singing in the Marriage of Figaro ; and as the reader may very 
 likely inquire where they all showed such an inclination to go to, we 
 will tell him that it was to a great ball at the Mansion-house. 
 
 Did you ever catch a fish, dear reader, and, thinking him somewhat 
 too small to serve those purposes for which the universal tiger, man, 
 takes the warm life of almost every animated being, except, indeed, his 
 fellow blood-spill ers, did you ever gently unhook him and drop him 
 back again into the clear stream ? If you have, you have doubtless 
 marked that, after an instant of apparent bewilderment, he darts away 
 with a relieved and joyous whirl, as if all sense of his wound was over- 
 whelmed by the happiness and satisfaction of finding himself in his own 
 element again. Such were much the sensations of Worrel at Aat 
 moment : he could have skipped, he could have danced, he could have 
 jumped over the chairs, he could have gone to the opera, to a theatre, 
 to a concert a la Musard^ if such a thing had been thep invpntedr 
 Vauxhall was nothing to his powers of endurance \ Jie could have under- 
 gone Sadler's Wells. So he and Mr. Longmore dressed themselves \\\ 
 becoming attire, and accompanied the Chevalier de Lunatico towards 
 the Mansion-house, for the grand bj^ll to which Mr. Longmore had 
 some time before received an invitation in the country. The Strand, 
 Temple-bar, Fleet-street, were speedily passed ; LudgatCrhill, St. Paul's 
 Churchyard, and Cheapside, were gone through ; and at length the 
 Mansion-house was reached, and the three gentlemen ushered in by 
 servants rivalling in lac^ and embroidery the household of the sove^ 
 reign. A tremendous noise was the first thing to announce to the che- 
 valier his being actually upon the point of entering an English balU 
 room. He might have mistaken it indeed for one of the lower stories 
 of the Tower of Babel, just after the confusion, or rather in the midst 
 
 C.«-^NO, VII, o 
 
194 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 of it, had it not been for the twanging of innumerable harps, the scrap- 
 ing of an infinity of fiddles, and all those other instruments which in 
 the hands of ordinary performers produce a noise called, by courtesy, 
 music. He thought all this bad enough ; but when he saw a multitude 
 of men and women shaking their limbs in the most grotesque manner 
 possible to the clatter of the fiddles and harps, and looking perfectly 
 self-satisfied all the time that they panted, and sweated, and struggled 
 as if they were condemned to hard-labour for life, his very natural excla- 
 mation was — 
 
 " Heaven and earth, I shall never have tickets enough for the half 
 of them ! I must issue a general summons." 
 
 " Nay, nay, my dear chevalier,** said Worrel, who heard a part of 
 this speech, and had remarked that the distribution of the cheva- 
 lier's billets-doux did not produce the most soothing efiect upon those 
 who were destined to receive them — " Nay, nay, my dear chevalier, do 
 not be hasty ; wait till the ball is over, and you will find all these people 
 very sane and composed, I can assure you." 
 
 " What ! not that young lady," cried the chevalier, " who is grinning 
 in such a diabolical manner at the mop-headed man who is standing 
 beside her ?" 
 
 " She is only trying to show her teeth," said Worrel, " which are 
 fine and white, as you see." 
 
 " Oh, I understand," said the chevalier, " you buy women in London 
 as you buy horses, by the teeth, do you ? And she is in the market, I 
 suppose." 
 
 " Something like it," replied Worrel, " I am afraid." 
 
 " Well," said the chevalier, " I should be afraid of her biting, by her 
 showing her fangs so. But you don't mean to say that that man is 
 sane who is coming forward now, hopping upon one toe, and lifting up 
 the other foot, as if he were about to kick a foot-ball, or the posterior 
 part of an unpleasant companion ?" 
 
 " Quite, I can assure you," replied Worrel : " he's a great mathe- 
 matician." 
 
 " My dear friend," said Mr. Longmore, interposing, for now that the 
 clouds of grief began to be dispelled, the sun of the worthy gentleman's 
 good opinion of himself once more shone forth — " My dear friend, be 
 not rash, as Worrel says, in judging of the pleasures and pastimes of 
 others. The sport or recreation of dancing, however absurd it may 
 appear to persons not accustomed to it, is one of the most rational and 
 beneficial in the world. In the first place, it exercises the limbs of 
 persons very frequently condemned to sedentary employments ; it cir- 
 culates the blood, it teaches the tendons to play easily, the muscles to 
 expand and contract with the greatest rapidity ; it also produces, in 
 two manners, a general and gentle motion of the nervous fluid — in the 
 first place, by softly shaking the sensorium, and in the next place, by 
 bringing the two sexes into a state of mutual attraction — that is to say, 
 where the poles of the two parties are properly electrified." 
 
 " That is what I should much doubt that they ever are," said the 
 chevalier. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. l95 
 
 ** One must be positive, and the other not negative," said Worrel, 
 laughing. 
 
 " How so, how so ?" said Mr. Longmore, who had no idea of a joke 
 upon electricity or any other serious subject. " What I mean is, che 
 valier, that it is a great promoter of love." 
 
 " A great trial of love, I should think," said the chevalier ; " for 
 nothing surely can be more destructive of the tender passion than to 
 see those we love making fools of themselves. But don't suppose that 
 we have no dances in the moon ; on the contrary, we dance one half of 
 our existence there. Our minister for foreign affairs always receives 
 an ambassador from friendly powers in what we call a minuet de la 
 cour, through the mazes of which they lead each other till they get into 
 the quick step in the end, which is sometimes a gavotte, sometimes an 
 Irish jig, sometimes shuffle-and-cut, and sometimes the Highland fling. 
 But the two last are generally considered vulgar terminations, and were 
 introduced by a minister who had something of the merry-andrew in 
 his nature, and was such a hand at the game of overreaching, that one 
 day, having nothing else to do, he overreached himself. But who is 
 this very stately personage approaching?" 
 
 " This is the lord mayor,'* said Mr. Longmore, " an old friend 
 of mine. I will introduce you, chevalier," and taking his two 
 friends up, he made them known in due form to the chief magistrate 
 of the city. 
 
 Poor Worrel passed almost without notice, but the peculiar charm 
 which the chevalier had about him made the great man pay him the 
 most devoted attention, and open his heart to him at once. 
 
 " I don't know what country you come from, chevalier," he said, 
 " but one thing is certain — England is the first country in the world, 
 London is the first city of England, and I am the first magistrate of 
 London. I have done it all myself, chevalier — I have done it all myself. 
 When first I came to this here city, 1 wheeled a barrow." 
 
 " It is one of the things I most admire in the constitution of Eng- 
 land," said the chevalier, " that whatever be a man's original rank and 
 station in life, he can rise to the very highest offices and position in 
 society, by genius, perseverance, and virtue." 
 
 " A word in your ear, my dear chevalier," said the mayor — " that's 
 what we tell the world, but there's a great deal of humbug in them 
 assertions. Genius makes its way once in twenty millions of times ; 
 perseverance, after having tried it through a long life, is still a clerk in 
 a merchant's office, and virtue thinks she'll be obliged to go upon the 
 town for bread to eat. No, no ; a fortunate spec, a lucky hit, habits of 
 saving, the accumulation of money, a loud tongue, a bold face, and a 
 good deal of talk about honesty and liberality, these are the things that 
 get on in London. Look upon every thing here as a matter of barter, 
 and you may do any thing that you please. Be as ostentatious as ever 
 you like, but never be ostentatious but when it will pay. Be charitable, 
 and subscribe to all sorts of institutions : it's buying in the funds of public 
 opinion, which give better interest than any others that I know of. 
 But never think of giving away half a crown without there's somebody 
 
196 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 to see it. As a magistrate, be as rigid and stern, as patient and atten- 
 tive, as considerate and as careful as you like when the newspaper 
 reporters are in the justice-room ; and as a politician, be as liberal as 
 it is possible to be in public speeches and declamations — assert the 
 interests of the many, take up the cause of the oppressed, but grind 
 your workmen and your labourers in private, get a percentage of every 
 man, and if you have once nailed a man to an undertaking or a contract, 
 keep him to it, though it break him and send his wife and children to 
 the work-house. No, no, chevalier, you have not hit it at all. What 
 you mean is, that any man in England can get on who has cunning and 
 knowledge of the world, and may rise from the handles of the barrow 
 to the hand of the baronet. Then all the people who would have 
 kicked him if he had said a word to them in his former station, 
 will be glad to come to a ball like this, and eat his ices and drink his 
 champagne. I flatter myself I've got all the fashionable people in 
 London here to-night.** 
 
 " They look like it,** said the chevalier, " but I think I must go and 
 make acquaintance with some of them ;" and so saying he moved away 
 from a gentleman who had sunk himself not a little in his opinion, and 
 returned to Mr. Longmore and Worrel who were waiting for him at 
 some distance. 
 
 A few minutes more had elapsed, and the chevalier had just asked who 
 was a handsome, dark, well-dressed girl, who was swimming gracefully 
 through the room on the arm of a fine conntish-looking foreigner, 
 whom he expected to hear designated as the Prince of Gazzaladra 
 at the least, and Worrel had just informed him that she was a 
 fashionable French milliner at the west end of the town, and the gen- 
 tleman her stepfather, when, turning his head towards the lord mayor 
 again, he suddenly saw his lordship receive most reverently a person 
 whose features were not at all unknown to him. There, actually there, 
 in the Mansion-house, dressed in fashionable evening costume, were the 
 whey-coloured whiskers, the sheep-like eyes, the half-vacant, half- vicious 
 countenance, and the somewhat ungainly form of the Honourable Henry 
 Frederick Augustus Fitzurse, with a small black patch in the middle of 
 his forehead ! The chevalier instantly pointed him out to Worrel, mak- 
 ing a sign not to say any thing to Mr. Longmore, who was at that mo- 
 ment holding an interesting conversation with a young lady beside him. 
 
 " I will go and kick him,'' said Worrel in a low voice. 
 
 ** No,** cried the chevalier, " no, leave him to me, and I will take 
 care that he meets with his deserts. You look after Mr. Longmore, 
 and prevent him from meddling, while I speak a word in the mayor's 
 ear.*' 
 
 Thus saying, he watched the moment when Mr. Fitzurse turned away, 
 and approaching the civic magistrate, with his easy and mellifluous 
 tone he observed — a slight touch of sarcasm curling his nose and 
 elevating his upper lip— 
 
 " I thought you said, my lord, that you had all the fasnionable people 
 in London here . Pray, do you know well the young person who has 
 'ust left you?" 
 
Ife|p|.; 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 197 
 
 " The young person, sir ?" said the lord mayor. "He is the 
 Honourable Henry Frederick Augustus Fitzurse Do you know him ?'* 
 
 " I have seen the person before," replied the chevalier. " But to 
 my mind he looks very much like one of the water-side clerks of the 
 West India docks." 
 
 The lord mayor stared and turned pale, while the chevalier, after a 
 moment's pause, proceeded — 
 
 " If your lordship knows him to be what he represents himself to be, 
 all well and good ; but " 
 
 " I don't know him absolutely," said the lord mayor, *' but I sent a 
 card to the house of his father, who dealt with me when " 
 
 *' Oh, then you never saw him," exclaimed the chevalier. " Well, if 
 you will send for the Morning Post of last Wednesday, you will see that 
 the Honourable Henry Augustus Frederick Fitzurse was shot dead in 
 
 a duel near Outrun Castle, and this person must be But I leave you 
 
 to form your own conclusion." 
 
 " An impostor !" cried the mayor. 
 
 " It's very true," said a gentleman who stood near : " I saw his death 
 in the papers myself." 
 
 " And I read an account of the coroner's inquest," added a third. 
 
 " An impostor ! an impostor ! an impostor !" cried they all at once. 
 
 " Turn him out I" shouted the mayor. " Ladies and gentlemen, don't 
 be alarmed ! There's an impostor in the room ; but we'll soon turn 
 him out." 
 
 Ten ladies shrieked and one fainted, while five hundred voices 
 repeated, in five hundred different tones, the word ** Impostor !" 
 
 " Sir, you are an impostor," said the mayor, striding up to Mr. 
 Fitzurse. 
 
 " Im-pos-tor !" cried Mr. Fitzurse in his peculiar drawl. " What do 
 you mean by that, you old humbug ?" 
 
 " An impostor, sir, I mean — an impostor 1" cried the mayor. " You 
 are not Mr. Fitzurse — you were killed in a duel five days ago. You 
 are an impostor, sir ! Get out ! get out, this minute ! Servants, turn 
 him out. Send for the officers !" 
 
 " Oh, officers!" cried Mr. Fitzurse ; " it's time to be off then, I don't 
 like quod. I'll make you pay for this, you old humbug, some day." 
 
 " Kick him out !" cried the mayor — " kick him out !" 
 
 The servants rushed fwvvard, but Mr. Fitzurse turned towards the 
 door and ran for it. He escaped not, however, what is termed scot-free, 
 for he had a long line to pass through, and every one as he went 
 shouted " Impostor !" and gave him a push. He turned fiercely at one, 
 
 looked like a crocodile at another, d d a third, cursed a fourth, and 
 
 spat in the face of a fifth : upon which he received a glass of pine-apple 
 cream right in his eye, which carried him straight through the door, 
 to the top of the stairs. Down he ran as hard as he could go, while 
 the chevalier and Worrel stood cracking their sides with laughter, and 
 Mr. Longmore turned round and asked what was the matter. 
 
 "Nothing, nothing," said the lord mayor, who had by this time 
 come back again close to where the philosopher stood, "only an im* 
 
198 THE COMMISSIONER; OR, 
 
 poster, my dear sir, only an impostor. Some lacky or some shopman 
 who has chosen to take the name and use the card of the son of my 
 friend, Lord Outrun, the Honourable Frederick Augustus Henry 
 Fitzurse. Now we know that it can't be he, for he was shot in a duel 
 I understand." 
 
 " To be sure, to be sure," replied Mr. Longmore, " my yoimg cousin 
 Worrel shot him, and I can't help thinking — although I was a little 
 angry at first, because I had a scheme in my head — that it was a very 
 good thing too, for he was a sad loose fellow ; and, 'pon my honour, 
 now I think of it coolly, I can't help believing that my poor girl Laura 
 would have had a very unpleasant time of it." 
 
 Just at that moment up came a portly gentleman, with a large and 
 globe-shaped stomach, small thighs and legs cased in black breeches 
 and silk stockings, a dangling watch-chain as thick as a cable, a snow- 
 white waistcoat of ample dimensions, and a bright blue coat with 
 resplendent gilt buttons. The top of his head was bald, the rest was 
 powdered, and on his fine, open, jovial countenance appeared smiles of 
 perfect self-satisfaction — smiles which hung peculiarly about the lips, 
 like merry porters round a door by which came in and went out many 
 a pleasant thing. 
 
 " Ah, my dear Longmore," he cried, taking both the natural philo- 
 sopher's hands, " I am delighted to see you. When came you from 
 the country ? And above all things, what brings you to such a scene 
 as this — you who are busied in such important works, while we think of 
 nothing but getting money ? ' Quserenda pecunia primum, virtus post 
 nummos.' What brings you to a scene, I say, of such gay dissipation 
 as this ? ' Cur in theatrum, Cato severe venisti ? an ideo tantum 
 veneras ut exires ?' " 
 
 " Why, I have come looking for my daughter," said Mr. Longmore, 
 " whom I lost when Ivy Hall was burnt down : every body thought she 
 was dead." 
 
 " Ay, so I heard, so I heard," replied his friend, " and I wrote a 
 small piece of poetry upon her unfortunate fate — * Dolor ipse disertum 
 fecerat ;' but I burnt it this morning, having had a slight intimation 
 of her being still in existence." 
 
 " Indeed !" cried Mr. Longmore, pricking up his long ears, and his 
 very pigtail curling with delight. " Worrel, chevalier, do you hear 
 what my friend Mr. Alderman Rotundity says ? Allow me, Rotundity, 
 to introduce to you my cousin Worrel, to whom I have promised Laura 
 if ever we find her. My friend, the Chevalier de Lunatico. Chevalier, 
 Mr. Alderman Rotundity, a great English merchant, and, let me add, 
 one of the most classical scholars in the kingdom. He has heard some- 
 news of Laura! It may prove a clue, my dear friends, it may prove a 
 clue. Forgive me, my dear Rotundity, for my agitation on this 
 subject." 
 
 " Oh, I can feel for you, I can feel for you, my dear Longmore," 
 replied Mr. Rotundity — " * Quid dulcius hominum generi a natura 
 datum est quam sui cuique liberi.' But I'll tell you how we will 
 arrange it all — I will give you a clue — I will help you in your search ; 
 
DE liUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 199 
 
 but it nuist be in my own way. You know my country-house is within 
 twelve miles of Outrun — I came up only this morning — and before I set 
 out, while the carriage was at the door, I had a very interesting conver- 
 sation with a young lady who, as I tell you, gave me a hint that my 
 pretty little friend Laura was still in the land of the living. I go down 
 again to-morrow morning — you must go down with me, or join me there 
 directly. Laura is not in London, but is certainly safe. How she 
 happens to be so, I cannot tell — * Causa latet, vis est notissima.' Come 
 down to me, I say, and we will soon find her. I must see yom* two 
 friends with you — I will take no denial. Chevalier, I must positively 
 introduce you to my sister. Miss Rotundity — allow me to say she is 
 one of the cleverest and most scientific women of the present day. I 
 am nothing to her. I merely cultivate the lighter and more graceful 
 branches of knowledge, she plunges into the deep stream. I will take 
 no refusal — I shall expect you at dinner ; and in the meanwhile, Mr. 
 Longmore, be prepared soon to find your daughter ; but at the same 
 time do not suffer yourself to become too elated — ' Decet affectus animi 
 neque se nimium erigere, nee subjacere serviliter.' '* 
 
 Mr. Longmore promised to come, and Mr. Alderman Rotundity 
 turned to bestow his classicality upon some one else. 
 
200 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 *HB CriEVAiilEB PROVES VfeftY tNVlTlNG THE BATTLE OF THE CH ARIOTS^-THK 
 
 CHEVAtlER TJNDEUVAI/UES tliE LONDON POLICE— 'HE BISKS HIS REPUTATION 
 •^-^THE STOBY Ot BETSY TROLI/OP. 
 
 The Chevdlier de Lurtatico did not quit the ball*room at the Mansion- 
 house without distributing a considerable number of his polite invita- 
 tions ; for, notwithstanding all that Worrel and Mr. Longmore had 
 been able to say in regard to dancing, he could not help looking upon 
 it as a very lunatic amusement , and when it became farther enriched 
 by any great absurdity, he felt himself fully justified, in summoning the 
 performer thereof to his proper sphere. 
 
 One excellent gentleman, who had been formed by nature upon 
 the model and in the proportions of a badger, but who kept whirl- 
 ing, and whisking, and pirouetting during the whole night, thinking 
 all the time that he was exciting the admiration of the numerous 
 spectators, while in fact he was convulsing them with laughter, was 
 the first object of the chevalier's attentions. This personage received 
 the billet with a graceful bow and a well-pleased smile, thinking 
 that he owed the invitation entirely to his personal attractions ; and the 
 chevalier then passed across to a lady who had been dancing with the 
 most frantic vehemence, and introduced himself in his peculiarly grace- 
 ful and insinuating manner. She was a married woman of about forty- 
 five years of age, the mother of seven daughters with long, flaxen 
 ringlets. Having arrived at that amplifying age, she had taken advan- 
 tage of it to the utmost extent — so that, as she skipped and bounded 
 through the dance, one might see the fat wallop and shake, not alone 
 underneath the yellow satin dress with which she had enriched her 
 charms, but also in the colossal beauties which she had exposed, in no 
 niggardly spirit, to the eyes of admiring thousands. Small drops of 
 perspiration lay upon her damask cheek like morning dew upon a 
 peony ; and, as she was really a good-humoured soul, she took the 
 chevalier's billet quite in good part, and said she would be very happy 
 of the honour if she was not otherwise engaged. After dealing with 
 several others in the same way, the chevalier ventured to approach a 
 lady with whom he justly feared he might have some sort of trouble. 
 She was the exact reverse of the last motherly figurante we have 
 just spoken of, having past nearly fifty summers in a state of single 
 felicity. 
 
 Butchers and such scientific people inform us that, for a certain length 
 of time, the calf feeds upon its sweetbread ; and whether this lady had 
 ever, in the course of her terrestrial metempsychosis, occupied a vituline 
 state I cannot tell, but she seemed, certainly, to have very little sweet- 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 201 
 
 bread left ; and the secretion of the spleen was decidedly more abundant 
 than the pancreatic juice. There is nothing like a scientific description, 
 reader, to make you understand what we mean. However, the pro- 
 cess seemed to have gone farther than the sweetbread ; for the flesh 
 appeared to have suffered under the corrosion of the spirit ; so that a 
 proper concatenation of mop-sticks, ornamented with a barber's block 
 at the top, would have made as good a woman, at any time, as the lady 
 in question. Nevertheless, there she was — dressed out in white satin, 
 with a red velvet toque, and a bird-of-paradise feather, several strings 
 of pearls set off" to the greatest advantage by the white and yellow skin 
 of her camelopardine neck, and a pair of diamond bracelets hanging 
 loose upon either skinny arm. Notwithstanding the dangers of such a 
 proceeding — and though, as Worrel observed, one might hear her 
 bones rattle as she capered — she was going through all the antics of a 
 dance then in fashion, called the " The Lancers," and displaying her 
 osteology as if she had been bound, by her office, to illustrate the loves 
 of the triangles. In a momentary pause, the chevalier glided up to her 
 side, paid her some graceful compliments upon her agility at her time 
 of life, and then slipped the summons into her hand, beating his re- 
 treat as quickly as possible, both in order to escape the coming storm, 
 and to accompany Worrel and Mr. Longmore, who were preparing to 
 depart. The lady gave him a tender leer, and then turned her eyes 
 upon the summons, screamed, called him a brute, sobbed, gasped, 
 and fainted. But the chevalier had performed his office with so much 
 discretion and dexterity that nobody had even perceived he had 
 addressed the lady at all, and he had departed from the ball-room 
 before she had voice or power to say what had offended her. 
 
 A number of persons were going away from the Mansion-house at 
 this time, and there was such a crush of carriages, whipping of horses, 
 shouting of servants, such a screaming of ladies who were getting 
 pinched in the furious contention of coachmen, and such a cursing of 
 gentlemen who were exhorting, with violent execrations, the said 
 coachmen to behave properly, that it was quite impossible for the 
 chevalier and his companions to find their vehicle. 
 
 " A terrible scene, isn't it, chevalier ?" said Mr. Longmore, after 
 they had escaped into Cheapside. 
 
 " Yes, indeed," replied the chevalier ; " we are not quite mad enough 
 in the moon to suffer such things as this. I think we must have some 
 of your police officers up to our sphere to show them how to manage 
 better ; but as I did not come down to summon blockheads, I must 
 leave the matter as it is for the present." 
 
 ' While he was speaking, one of those unfortunate beings who wander 
 through the streets of the British metropolis — the class in which 
 there is more misery of every kind than perhaps in any other body of 
 human beings — misery of the mind, and of the heart, and of the body, 
 remorse, disease, hunger, disgust of self, enmity with the world, me- 
 mory's agony, and futurity's despair, extinction of hope here and 
 hereafter, and horror and anguish in the very fire of passion. One of 
 those most miserable and most to be pitied approached the party, and, 
 
202 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 selecting the young man as the most liable to temptation, said a word 
 of invitation to him as he went by. 
 
 Shrink not, reader, I am not going to ^vrite one word or to dwell upon 
 one scene which may call up the blush upon the cheek of innocence, or 
 render this book unfit for the eye of the holiest virtue. But to you I 
 will use the words which the chevalier addressed to his two companions, 
 when he stopped to speak with the poor wretch, and they told hini that 
 his curiosity might lead him into danger. 
 
 " Fear not, my dear friends," he said — " I have my mission ;" and 
 so say I to you, reader, / have my mission, 
 
 " I will join you, I will join you by-and-by," added the chevalier ; 
 and turning round to speak with the woman, he asked her where she 
 lived. 
 
 " Come with me and I will show you," she said, affecting that awful 
 tone of blandishment which is more repellant from such meretricious 
 lips than curses and abuse. 
 
 " Very well," said the chevalier, and walking on, side by side with 
 her, without the slightest fear of his reputation — which being, indeed, 
 more lunatic than terrestrial, was not very likely to suffer — he passed 
 through numerous alleys and by-streets to a mean, evil-looking house, 
 where he was soon seated, face to face, with the unhappy woman who 
 had brought him thither. A wretched-looking serving-wench of eleven or 
 twelve years of age quitted the room as they entered ; and there was a 
 cradle in the corner apparently with an infant in it, for once or twice 
 there was a low, pining cry. The girl who sat before him had once been 
 beautiful ; and time, alas ! had had no share in spoiling her bloom of 
 loveliness, for twenty summers had certainly not passed over her head ; 
 and yet the eye was haggard, the cheek tlun and wan, and there was 
 a quivering about the nether lip, as if the rebellious features would fain 
 have refused the harlot's smile they wore. 
 
 " And now, my poor girl," said the chevalier, after gazing at her for 
 a moment, " put aside your imhappy trade for the present, and tell me 
 what and who you are, and how you came into this situation. I come 
 not here with any of the purposes you may fancy, and you must tell 
 me the truth, whether you like it or not ; for even at this instant I see 
 into your heart, and shall know in a moment whether you are deceiving 
 me or not." 
 
 " I think you do, indeed," replied the girl, " for I feel an inclina- 
 tion to tell you, which I never thought to have towards any person on 
 earth ; and I will speak the whole truth, indeed. But first let me 
 quiet the baby ;" and bringing forth the cradle she rocked it with her 
 foot, while she went on — 
 
 THE STORY OF BETSY TROLLOP. 
 
 " I am the most wretched of human beings, but still I have but very 
 little to tell, for I suppose every one of us is just in the same case. 
 However, my father is an honest, hard-working man — at least he was, 
 poor fellow, for he is not so now — in a pleasant little village a good 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUEaENDO. 203 
 
 many miles from London. His name is Trollop, and he was a shoe- 
 maker by trade ; and though he was not the first in the place, we were 
 always tolerably well off, because he had the postman's place, which 
 brought him a few shillings a week more. My mother was a daughter 
 of the clerk of the parish, and a very pretty woman she was too ; but 
 she would marry my father against her father's consent, and the conse- 
 quence was, that my grandfather, who was a hard old man, would 
 never have any thing to say to her more, though he was very rich for 
 a man in his way. My mother kept a couple of cows, however, and 
 used to sell the milk and cream ; and both father and mother were 
 very fond of me, because I was an only child. Well, my mother fell 
 sick, last March was a twelvemonth, and I had to go out and about 
 with the milk and cream ; and one evening I met with a gentleman, 
 the son of a lord in our neighbourhood, who spoke to me and walked 
 along with me, and though I did not like him much at first, and thought 
 that Will Jones, who was the great milkman of the place, was a much 
 pleasanter looking man," yet after a while, like a foolish girl, I began 
 to think that it was a fine thing to be courted by a lord's son, and I 
 >vas stupid enough to let him know where I went to with the milk, and 
 at what hour I was passing here and there. After that, for three 
 weeks or a month, he was sure to find me out somewhere every day ; and 
 he talked so fine and promised so much, that he quite cajoled me. It's 
 no use talking any more about that part of the story ; but, as you may 
 guess, I showed myself quite a fool in the end. The only happiness 
 of the whole business is, that my poor mother never knew any thing 
 about it. She died last June, and thought me as virtuous and good as 
 ever, so that she blessed me when she was dying ; and though I thought 
 it would have broken my heart to hear her. yet it would have been ten 
 times worse if she had not. Well, not long after that, the gentleman and 
 I both got in a fright for fear the people should see the way I was in, 
 and I should become chargeable to the parish ; and so he persuaded me 
 that it would be better for me to go away with him to London, where 
 he said he would keep me like a lady. I agreed to all he asked, for 
 I was frightened out of my life ; but, then, when I thought of going 
 away and leaving my poor father, who was fit to go distracted for my 
 mother's death, I felt as if it would have killed me. However, 
 fear and love prevailed, and I agreed to go, and we settled the time 
 when my seducer was to fetch me — -just when my father was going 
 round with the letters, which came in there of an evening. But, oh ! 
 I shall never forget that evening ; for all in a minute, just when I was 
 waiting and looking out, my father came in as white as a sheet and 
 trembling in every limb, for somebody had whispered to him something 
 about it, and he said — 
 
 " * Betsy, what have you been doing ?' so then I began to cry, and 
 he saw how it was very well. 
 
 " His face changed all in a minute, his eyes began to roll in his head, 
 and he cursed me terribly ; and I thought that he was only dreadfully 
 angry ; but all of a sudden he laughed out loud again, and caught up one 
 of the fowls that had followed him into the cottage, and tore it all to 
 
204 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 pieces in a moment. Then he threw it down at my feet and cried out 
 — * So have you served your father's heart,' and then he rushed out 
 again without his hat, and has been raving mad ever since, I hear. 
 
 "I scarcely know rightly what happened afterwards or how I got out of 
 the cottage, but I know I was soon going along in a post-chaise towards 
 London with Mr. Fitzurse sitting beside me ; and he was kind enough 
 to me for a fortnight, and took lodgings for me, and gave me money to 
 pay for every thing ; but at the end of that time I believe his cash 
 began to run low, for I heard him talk about being afraid of having 
 a bailiff after him, and he left me one morning, telling me he would come 
 back at night, but he did not, and never came near me again. At first I 
 was very low, and wrote to him an humble letter at his father's house, 
 and begged him to help me, and not let me starve or go upon the town, 
 but he wrote me back word that he had no money ; that he thought it 
 would be much better for me to seek for another friend, for he could 
 do nothing to help me ; and that there was no use of my writing to 
 him any more, for that if my letters fell into his father's hands he 
 would only have less than he had. His letter did me good, for it made 
 me angry, and before I had read it half an hour I had answered it too. 
 I told him that for myself I cared not, that I despised him ; but th:»t 
 his baby he should not abandon, that I would bring it back to him at 
 his father's door, and that if he did not send me money instantly, that 
 it might not want at its birth, when I could not help it with my work, 
 I would come down on foot and seek help of the parish he was so 
 afraid of. I sent the letter to a poor girl, who had a kind heart, and 
 who I knew would help me so far as to give it to him — though all the 
 rest of the world cast me off — and she did too, for she gave it before 
 his father's face. As soon as I had sent it, all my courage failed me 
 again, and I gave myself up to despair. I thought he would take no 
 notice, or tell me to do my worst, and what was to come of it then ? 
 Was I to go back where people used to be all so kind to me, and to 
 have them turn away from me, and point at me with contempt ; to be 
 confined in the parish workhouse, and perhaps to see my father raging 
 in madness — all for my fault ? Oh, I shall not forget those three days 
 if I were to live for ever ! and how I walked about the two rooms I 
 had, and never slept. To my surprise, however, I had an answer 
 directly, with a ten-pound-note ; for he was a sad coward, and my 
 letter frightened him. But he told me I must never expect more, and 
 now that his father knew all he did not care ; and the old lord signed 
 
 the letter, too, and called me a . But it does not matter : he 
 
 called me what I was not then, but what I am now. I saved the ten 
 pounds, and spent not a penny that I could help, eating no more than 
 would keep life and body together, till the child was born ; and then 
 I tried to get needlework to do, and sometimes I did earn a few shil- 
 lings, sometimes nothing ; and my money grew less and less, and I sold 
 some of my clothes ; and I tried at the shops where they had work ; 
 but if 1 went shabby I was sure to get none, and gradually they would 
 not trust me with any thing unless I could bring some one to answer 
 for me, or could deposit the value of the goods they gave me. My 
 
DE LUXATICO INQUIRENDO. 205 
 
 landlady was kind enough, and sometimes got me work, till I began 
 to owe her rent, and then she said I must pay her or go. One day, 
 then, I went out to seek for work : I had only two shillings in the 
 world, and I had not eaten any thing, for I did not like to change one 
 of them ; and my heart was sad enough. I went about for two or 
 three hours, and I looked at the women of the town as I passed along, 
 and they seemed so gay and happy I envied them : but, oh, sir, I did 
 not know what agony of mind and body was hid under many a light 
 laugh. Just then a respectable-looking old lady came up and asked 
 me if I was seeking for a place, and called me a pretty nice-looking 
 girl ; and I told her I was looking for needlework. She then said, if I 
 had a mind, she would help me to get more than I could by needlework ; 
 and she talked to me in the way of all those old women. And though 
 I would not go to her house and live with her and the rest, I agreed 
 to go home with her then ; and 1 have been ever since what you see." 
 
 " And do you think," asked the chevalier, " if you had been able 
 always to get work you would have refrained from your present course?" 
 
 " That I would," cried the girl eagerly. " If I could have got 
 enough to buy bread and water I would never have done evil again. 
 I do not mean to say it is the same with all girls, sir, for there 
 is many a one goes upon the town out of vice and wickedness, and 
 many a one out of lightness and folly ; but there are thousands who 
 may have done one wrong thing, and repented of it heartily, and would 
 never do another if they had any way at all of living without going 
 from bad to worse. There are places called Magdalen hospitals and 
 such things, but they are very little good compared to what might be 
 done if the ladies and gentlemen who spend so many thousands in very 
 showy charities, would but take the advice of a poor girl like me, who 
 knows what it is that we really want." 
 
 " Why, what would you have them do ?" demanded the chevalier. 
 
 " I would have them establish houses in all quarters of London," 
 replied the girl, "and in all great towns too, where every poor girl who 
 was willing to work with her needle might find employment. Perhaps 
 it would not do to give all those who come, work out of doors, unless 
 they could bring some security that they would take it safe back, for 
 there are thieves every where ; but they could have rooms where they 
 might work as long as they liked with the materials given them, and 
 then be paid according to what they had done when they went out and 
 gave their work up. If there were such places in London, sir, it 
 would save one out of every two women who walk the streets of this 
 town at night from a life of shame, and wickedness, and misery, and a 
 death of sin and horror. Hundreds, like myself, would never have 
 gone upon the town if we could have got six or seven shillings a week 
 by our own industry, after we had committed a first fault." 
 
 " I will speak of it," said the chevalier — " I will speak of it to one of 
 the most amiable women in the world, and one of the wisest, the wife 
 
 of Alderman P , who is himself one of the best of men I hear. I saw 
 
 them both at the Mansion-house this night ; and he will some day be 
 chief magistrate of the city ; but even now their character and talentt 
 
206 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 give both husband and wife great influence, and they will do what can 
 be done, I am sure." 
 
 " It will be a blessed thing, sir," said the poor girl ; " it will be a 
 blessed thing for many ; though, as for me, it will come too late. I have 
 nothing before me but despair." 
 
 " I am not quite sure of that," replied the chevalier ; " better things 
 may turn up for you than that. I know the man who seduced and 
 abandoned you : I know something of the village, and its people too, 
 and I rather think there is better hope for you than you suppose." 
 
 " God bless you for giving it, sir," said the woman ; " for, oh, if you 
 could tell what horror and disgust is attached to the trade I follow ; 
 how one learns to abhor all mankind, ay, and one's self too ; if you 
 could tell the scenes that one goes through, the changes from want to 
 plenty, and from plenty to want, the horrible state of never knowing 
 whether one will have a shilling to-morrow to buy food or not, and the 
 finding no consolation or hope but in drink, you would feel that the 
 least little glimpse of relief is a blessing indeed. You don't know, sir, 
 perhaps, that the half of these poor women whom you see, live almost 
 altogether upon spirits. Very little do they eat, and all they mind is 
 to drown care and the thought of their situation. I can't do so, indeed, 
 on account of the baby, but it's the case with most of them ; for they 
 can almost always get somebody to give them a glass of gin, even when 
 they can get no one to give them a bit of bread. 
 
 The chevalier put his hand to his head and mused for a few minutes, 
 and then looking up, said to himself, with his peculiarly moonshiny 
 air, " I think the best way would be, to issue a general summons for the 
 whole kingdom at once ! Where such things are suffered to go on the 
 nation must be mad. It's a general act of lunacy." 
 
 " I wish I was mad," said the poor girl, overhearing him ; " I don't 
 think I should care so much about it." 
 
 " Well, well," replied the chevalier, " you keep yourself quiet where 
 you are, my poor girl. I am going down to your native village of 
 Outrun, or very near it, to-morrow, and from what you tell me of yoiu* 
 relations there, I am not quite sure that you may not be entitled to 
 some little property. At all events, I will inquire into it and let you 
 know." 
 
 " Lord ! sir," cried the girl, " you seem to know every thing. How 
 could you find out I came from the village of Outrun ? and I'm sure I 
 don't know how it is, but I have told you every thing to-night just as 
 it happened, and I should never think of doing so to any one else." 
 
 " My poor girl, you could not help it," replied the chevalier. " But 
 be of good cheer ! There is something for you." 
 
 We have already said that the chevalier was very abundantly sup- 
 plied with the coin of this nether earth, which is very plenty in the 
 moon, money being, as Lycurgus found out, a very mad sort of inven- 
 tion, which the world would have been much better without. Putting his 
 hand, therefore, in his breeches-pocket he pulled out as much as he could 
 grasp, and gave her more than any one but a lunatic ever gave a woman 
 of the town before. At the same time he placed in her hand two or three 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 207 
 
 of the tickets which came out mixed with the money, saying, " Will you 
 have the goodness to distribute a few of these amongst the gentlemen 
 who come to see you. They must be turned of one-and-twenty, and if 
 by any chance they should be married, as I hear is sometimes the case, 
 all the better." 
 
 Thus saying he left her amidst a torrent of gratitude and thanks. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 THR METROPOLIS ABANDONED KOTUNDITT COURT SOME NEW OK0LO6ICAL 
 
 DISCOVERIES — CLASSICAL TASTES UNDE DERIVATOR. 
 
 The chevalier found both of his companions up and waiting for him, 
 and before they went to bed he related all that he had heard and seen. 
 
 "Oh!'* exclaimed Worrel, "I know the poor girl well. There 
 was not a prettier girl in the place than Betsy Trollop, the postman's 
 daughter, till that young scoundrel, Fitzurse, seduced her, and took 
 her away to London. Her father went raving mad, and was so violent 
 that they were obliged to put him in the county jail, there being no 
 lunatic asylum in the neighbourhood, and the good people at the work- 
 house not being able to manage him. She was granddaughter of old 
 Scapulary the sexton, and if he had not married again would have 
 come in for a good thing." 
 
 " So I thought, so I thought," replied the chevalier : " but I had a 
 letter from my good friend, Joey Pike, this morning, and he gives me 
 a little hint, which, perhaps, may make a difference in the arrangement 
 of Mr. Scapulary's fortune. However, the moon having gone down, my 
 good friends, I feel somewhat sleepy and tired, so I think it may be as 
 well to go to bed." 
 
 The next morning, at a reasonable hour, the three gentlemen having 
 •hired a carriage, and put a pair of post-horses to it, set out on their 
 way to the house of Mr. Alderman Rotundity. The road lay straight 
 towards the village of Outrun, and the journey back from London 
 was certainly much more pleasant, both to the chevalier and Harry 
 Worrel, than the journey to the metropolis had been. Pretty little 
 villages, nice hedgerows, small farm-houses, distant spires, small, neat 
 woods, every thing seemed beautiful and cheerful, not so much from 
 the sunshine, which spread over the rural scene, as from the sunshine 
 in their own hearts. After a pleasant drive of four or five hours, and 
 after Mr. Longmore had proposed seven new ways of propelling car- 
 
208 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 riages, — one of which was by capillary attraction, and one by an air- 
 pump, which was to be exhausted and re-filled by the rotation of the 
 very wheels it put in motion, the chaise, proceeding in the old-fashioned 
 way, rolled in through a handsome lodge, and along a fine, broad, 
 smooth private road, to the splendid country-house of Mr. Alderman 
 Rotundity. That worthy gentleman was himself ready to receive 
 them, having set off at an earlier hour. Nothing could be finer than 
 the rural residence of the alderman, nor, to say truth, in much better 
 taste, for it combined various sorts of appropriateness. It was a good, 
 substantial English mansion, built by himself, with nothing either 
 Gothic, Elizabethan, Greek, or Palladian about it. It suited his 
 fortune, which was ample, his rank, which was of the middle class, 
 his country, his age, and his habits. There was a large fish-pond 
 within sight of the windows, with a pretty stream meandering through 
 the grounds ; there were some fine woods and promising plantations ; 
 there were some fountains and grottos, a slight touch of landscape 
 gardening, and some beautiful lawns, which would have done very well 
 for children to play upon ; but, alas ! Mr. Alderman Rotundity was an 
 old bachelor, living solus cum sola with his sister. Miss Serpentaria 
 Rotundity. However, he was quite as glad to see his friends as if he 
 had had forty children ; perhaps more so indeed, and to the chevalier 
 he was peculiarly civil and attentive, welcoming him to Rotundity 
 Court with that degree of zeal and affection which his character natu- 
 rally inspired. 
 
 " Come, my dear sir ; come," he said, " and I will introduce you to 
 my sister, who, while I visit London upon business or upon pleasure, 
 remains at home, deep in more important employments : ' Lonyum 
 cantu solata lahorem arguto conjux percurrit pectine telas' " 
 
 Thus saying he led his friends up stairs, over carpets soft and pliant 
 to the toe, and through a handsome corridor, lined on each side with 
 glass-cases containing gigantic bones and specimens of minerals and 
 stones. 
 
 " This is her own particular abode," he said ; " this is where she 
 studies and plunges deep into all the secrets of nature. You see some 
 of her own collections, all of which she can explain to you in the most 
 wonderful manner. I don't know any thing about it, I confess, having 
 dedicated myself entirely either to the more material pursuits of com- 
 merce, or the softer and more graceful studies of classical literature." 
 
 The chevalier, it must be confessed, was rather awe-struck ; for, to 
 the mind of a gentleman of his sphere, the presence of a person so 
 solidly sensible and so profoundly scientific, was, of course, a very 
 grave and serious thing to encounter. 
 
 " Really, Mr. Alderman," he said, " I fear I shall not be any fit 
 society for a person so superior as your sister." 
 
 " Oh, pooh, pooh," cried Mr. Rotundity, with a benevolent and 
 patronizing air, " you will do very well : one who has seen so much of 
 the world as you have, must have learned, ' Cum tristibu^ severe^ cum 
 remissis Jucunde, cum senibus graviter, cum juventute comiter vivere.'" 
 
 As he spoke he opened the door, and the chevalier, with some con- 
 
»E LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 209 
 
 sternation followed, giving a look at his two friends behind. He was 
 surprised, however, to see the good-humoured countenance of Mr. 
 Longmore upon the broad grin, and Harry Worrel very well inclined 
 to laiigh. 
 
 " Don't be alarmed, my dear chevalier," whispered the natural phi- 
 losopher, " Rotundity's a very clever fellow, but his sister's a humbug." 
 
 Almost as he spoke they entered the room, and Mr. de Limatico 
 found himself in the presence of the very learned and scientific lady 
 he had heard of. All preconceived ideas are wide of the truth. Miss 
 Rotundity had been painted by the chevalier's imagination as a taU, 
 thin, gaunt, dry-boned woman, a sort of personification of comparative 
 anatomy ; but here before him sat a little dumpy personage, with a 
 body like a soup-tureen, dressed in green velvet to receive him; a 
 head like a Christmas-pudding, and a turban of gold gauze, looking 
 uncommonly like a piece montee of spun sugar." 
 
 " My dear chevalier," she exclaimed with great volubility, and in a 
 voice which sounded as if she had stewed prunes in her mouth, " I am 
 delighted to see you. Ah, Longmore, how do you do ? Worrel, how 
 are you ? Pray be seated, pray be seated. A pretty blow-up you 
 made of it at Ivy Hall, Longmore ! Some of those inventions of 
 yours, I am sure, did it. Now my calm pursuits will never set a house 
 on fire." 
 
 " Nor the Thames neither," said Mr. Longmore, laughing good- 
 humouredly." 
 
 " Well, well," replied the lady, in the same tone, " we, scientific 
 people, chevalier, always speak disparagingly of each other's pursuits ; 
 each man abuses his neighbour's horse, whether it be a hobby or not. 
 But you have been a great traveller, I hear, chevalier ; you are a geo- 
 logist of course. Indeed I know you are ; you must be. Were you 
 ever in Russia ? — But I know you have. Did you ever visit the Urinal 
 mountains ?" 
 
 The chevalier looked at Mr. Longmore, and then at Harry Worrel, 
 but he was a diplomatist, and replied quite gravely, " No, madam, I 
 never visited any but the Mountains of the Moon." 
 
 " Dear me," said the lady, " how I should like to see them. They 
 are in Chum Tartary, I believe, are they not ?" 
 
 " No, madam," replied the chevalier, " rather farther than that." 
 
 " I am sorry to hear it," replied the lady, " for if they had been 
 in Chum Tartary I dare say I could have got the consul at Odyssey 
 to send me some specimens. Homer, I think, is the consul's name, is 
 it not, my dear brother ?" 
 
 " No, no," cried Mr. Longmore, laughing ; " Homer may be consi- 
 dered a dictator in literature, my dear lady, but never was a consul 
 yet ; and though he wrote the Odyssey, I don't think he was ever at 
 Odessa." 
 
 Miss Rotundity looked astounded, and her brother gently reproved 
 her, saying, " My dear, you should keep to science, you know nothing 
 about literature !" 
 
 ** Well, that's true," replied tne good-humoured lady ; " but you go 
 
 C. NO. VII. p 
 
210 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 along, Rotundity, you have plenty to do ; I'll entertain the cheva- 
 lier." 
 
 " I dare say she will," said Mr. Longmore, as Mr. Rotundity took 
 his departure." 
 
 " Now, my dear chevalier," cried the lady, " you shall come and see 
 my magnificent specimens. First, I will show you that which all the 
 Bucklands and the Sedgewicks envy me the possession of. It is a 
 complete Musty Don ; I believe it to be quite unique." 
 
 " I believe, madam," said Harry Worrel, who could refrain no 
 longer, " that it was found by our army in Spain, was it not ? But 1 
 thought they had discovered many Musty Dons there." 
 
 " Oh, dear, no ! oh, dear no !" cried the lady quite seriously ; " this 
 is the only one that ever was found complete, and some people even 
 say that the top of his tail is wanting. But then, chevalier, I have got 
 the whole leg and hip-bone of a Maggy Tierum, which was discovered 
 by our own people in the Gall-stone formation, while they were sinking 
 a shaft by the means of linthotomy, for the purpose of producing an 
 Arterian well." 
 
 Mr. Longmore's shoulders shook so heartily that his stiff pigtail 
 seemed in danger of being broken off at the root, and he whispered 
 to Worrel — 
 
 " It's all that wild dog the curate's doing. He does nothing but 
 quiz her from morning to night, and she believes every word he says. 
 Pray, Miss Rotundity," he continued aloud, "have you seen young 
 Jones lately ?" 
 
 " To be sure," replied the lady — " I see him almost every day. He 
 is quite my right-hand man. A very clever man, indeed, chevalier. 
 Mr. Longmore is speaking of the incubus of our parish. He has 
 taught me to be a complete Neptunist^ which, indeed, is the doctrine 
 most consonant to Scripture. I believe that the hills have all submerged 
 from the face of the waters, while the valleys have all recalcitrated by 
 succulent springs." 
 
 " Do you not think, madam," said Mr. Longmore, " that esculents 
 may have had something to do with the business ?" 
 
 " Perhaps so, perhaps so," replied the lady ; " but one thing is quite 
 clear, that the Vulcanists are quite mistaken. Vulcanic action cannot 
 account for the straddlification of all the superincumbent masses ; 
 and if fire is to be the occasion of the whole, how comes it that all the 
 coals in the world were not burnt out long ago ? No, no, Neptune for 
 my money." 
 
 She spoke so loud and vehemently, that a large, black dog which was 
 lying imder the table, got up and wagged his tail. 
 
 " Ah, Nep," she cried, patting his head, " I called you after my 
 theory, didn't I ?*' But, now, chevalier, just come out into the ves- 
 tibule and I will show you a collection that is worthy of your seeing, I 
 can assure you. Count Ramcatskin, the famous Russian geologist, staid 
 two hours examining them. He was a very great man, indeed — a 
 wonderful traveller like yourself, chevalier. He had gone up to the 
 highest peak of Mount Blanks I can assure you." 
 
DE LUNATICO INQULRENDO. 211 
 
 " That peak must have been what they call point blank, I suppose, 
 madam,** said Harry Worrel, with the gravest face imaginable. 
 
 " I believe it is," said the lady ; " but he had been at the top of the 
 Riggy, too. But talking of Higgy it puts me in mind of rigging, and 
 that puts me in mind of the interesting story of the Pick de Middy." 
 
 " Indeed, madam ! how is that ?" demanded the chevalier, with his 
 usual urbanity. 
 
 " I will tell you, I will tell you," replied the lady, moving towards 
 the door ; but I won*t have you come with us, Longmore, y )u laugh 
 at every thing but your own foolish inventions. You may come, 
 Worrel, because you are better behaved. But the story of the Pick 
 de Middy is very interesting indeed ; it was told me by the excellent 
 incubus of our parish. One time, in the Pyrennean mountains, which 
 lie between France and Algiers, a British midshipman — sir, you know 
 of course, what dare-devils they are — was told that it was quite im- 
 possible to go up a certain tall, sharp, precipitous mountain, that 
 nobody had ever done it, and nobody ever could. Upon which he, 
 like a true British tar, declared that it was nothing at all, and that he 
 would not only do it the next day, but would cut a toothpick out of the 
 top of it. Accordingly, the next day he set out in spite of every thing 
 that they could say, taking nothing with him but a hammer and a 
 chisel, a pound of tea, a little sugar, and a bottle of hot water ^ 
 
 " A little vinegar, too, might have been as well," said the chevalier. 
 " Hannibal once told me it served to humbug his soldiers with." 
 
 " Ay, but this midshipman had no humbug about him," replied the 
 lady : " so he set off the next day, and was seen a great way up climb- 
 ing on and climbing on, till at length the people lost sight of him. 
 But, poor fellow, he never came down again ; and a number of his 
 messmates and the sailors of his ship, which was lying off that coimtry, 
 determined to go up with ladders and what not, after he had been 
 absent for four or five days : and there they found him, poor fellow, 
 seated at the top, frozen to death. But he had kept his word : for he 
 had made a toothpick out of a little bush that grew about the top, and 
 had stuck it between two of his fore teeth, just as we see a groom 
 do with a straw. So it was called the Pick de Middy ever after in 
 memory of the tragic event." 
 
 " Very shocking, indeed," said the chevalier, who by this time had 
 arrived with the lady in front of the glass-cases — "very shocking 
 indeed ; but may I ask, my dear madam, what this great animal is in 
 the midst of this blue stuff, looking like a potted crocodile ?" 
 
 " Ah ! that glass-case," continued the lady, with a profound look 
 and an emphatic tone, " contains the great family of the Sawruses. 
 That one comes from Dorsetshire, but they are originally of Irish ex- 
 traction, as you may know by their name. 
 
 ** May I inquire," said the chevalier, " what is the peculiarity in their 
 appellation which makes you to suppose them to come from the sister 
 island ?" 
 
 " Bless me !" cried the lady, " don't you perceive at once. They 
 have all got an O* before their family name, just like the O'Donnels, 
 
212 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 and the O'Connells, and the O'Moores, and the O'Tooles. These are 
 called the O'Sawruses. There's the Pleasy O'Sawrus and the Itchy 
 O'Sawrus, and a great many more besides. It was our worthy incu- 
 bus who first explained to me the cause of this curious name that they 
 have." 
 
 " A very curious name indeed, especially the last," said the cheva- 
 lier. " I should not like to be in that gentleman's skin at all. But 
 this next case seems to be very curious also. May I ask what this 
 great round thing like a stewed ram's horn in aspic jelly is ?" 
 
 " That's an ammonite," replied the lady ; " that case contains all 
 the ites. My brother says I arrange them as Lilly does the Latin 
 nouns, by their terminations. They are the ammonites and the zoo- 
 phites, the aerolites, the hivites, the neophites, and others, all fossils of 
 that family." 
 
 She was going on to another case, saying — " now you shall see my 
 leg of the Maggy Tierum" but just at that moment a loud, deafening 
 bell, ringing for at least five minutes, announced the hour for dressing ; 
 and Harry Worrel exclaimed — 
 
 " That shows that we shall soon see a leg of mutton, which is better 
 than any fossil leg in Europe — at least for my present purposes," he 
 added, seeing the lady's brow darken. 
 
 Her brother, however, came just then to the rescue, and advancing, 
 with his portly benignity, towards the chevalier, said — 
 
 " Come, my dear sir, your curious-looking portmanteau has been 
 carried up to your chamber, and I will show you the way myself; for 
 you will have just time to dress. Longmore, you know your old room," 
 he continued, " and Worrel's is next to yours. This way, chevalier, 
 if you please ;" and walking on, with his weighty but quick step, he 
 led the chevalier to a very elegant room with a dressing-room, in which 
 he paused a moment to see that his guest had every thing which was 
 necessary. Mr. de Lunatico, for his part, seized the opportunity of a 
 little conversation with his host, having conceived doubts which he 
 wished to resolve as speedily as possible. He commenced by praising 
 the beauty of the grounds and the house, which he pronounced both 
 tasteful and magnificent. 
 
 " Oh, not magnificent, not magnificent, my dear sir," said the alder- 
 man, with a well-pleased smile — " though well to do in the world, I 
 grant, I never strive for magnificence. I only seek * quicquid dignum 
 sapiente bonoque est ?' Indeed, I rather live below my fortune than 
 above it, feeling the advantages of it with moderation — ' ut tu fortu- 
 nam, sic nos te, Celse, feremus.' It's not of my fortune I'm proud, che- 
 valier," he continued, the peculiar influence of the commissioner's lunar 
 powers afiecting him against his will, and compelling him to tell his 
 feelings whether he would or not. " Though I do like to see every 
 thing neat and nice, and to have it praised and admired, yet I would 
 not be ostentatious for the world, feeling myself a little inclined that 
 way, but knowing very well how foolish it is. But, I confess, of my 
 quotations I am a little vain, as perhaps you may have perceived." 
 
 ** I have only been astonished," said the chevalier, " that, with all 
 
DE liUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 213 
 
 your commercial affairs and so much important business of other kinds 
 upon your hands, you should have had time to read the immense 
 variety of authors you must have perused." 
 
 " I have a very good memory," replied Mr. Rotundity, with a smile, 
 and a shy glance at the door as if he would fain have escaped from the 
 fascination which compelled him to reveal the truth. 
 
 " But still you must have read an enormous quantity," continued 
 the chevalier ; " is it not so ?'* 
 
 " No, no," replied Alderman Rotundity, with a sigh — " all my quo- 
 tations are from the heads of the Ramblers and Spectators. There's 
 an English translation below, you know, and I have a good memory." 
 
 " Oh !" said the chevalier, " now I understand. But don't be afraid, 
 my dear friend, I will not betray you." 
 
 " Pray don't, pray don't," said Mr. Rotundity, and rolled himself out 
 of the room as fast as he could go. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 TOH HAMILTON DELITEBS A OHASTLT MESSAGE HE FBOVES HIMSELF A CONNOIS- 
 
 SEUB IN SPIRITS A GHOST-TBAP SET — THE MUSTEB OP MAIDENS A BEBEL- 
 
 LION IN PETTICOATS. 
 
 " "Why, Tom, what's the matter ?" exclaimed Viscount Outrun, after 
 sitting for nearly five minutes at breakfast the morning subsequent 
 to the night of the ghost-catching expedition, without hearing Tom 
 Hamilton utter a word; " you are as silent as a stock-fish, and some- 
 what white about the gills. I'll bet you a pound note to a shilling that 
 you saw the ghost last night." 
 
 Thus hard pressed, Tom Hamilton resolved to take his bit of fun out 
 of the ghost likewise ; and, as he had certainly suffered somewhat by 
 the apparition, to seek a little compensation at the expense of the good 
 people round him. 
 
 " Why yes, my dear lord," he replied, " I did see the ghost, it is 
 true." 
 
 "By jingo, that's funny," cried the peer, with an excited look; 
 " what was she like, Tom ? Come tell us what she was like." 
 
 " She was the exact image of the picture, the third from the east door 
 in the gallery," said Tom Hamilton. 
 
 The peer's countenance became a little marbled in hue, but having 
 had time to recover from the first impression of the ghost's authentic 
 
214 THE COMMISSIONER; OR, 
 
 appearance, he resolved to put the best face on the matter, and quiz 
 Tom Hamilton. 
 
 " Well now, Tom," he continued, " confess you were in a devilish 
 fright: weren't you now, old boy — felt your stomach queasy? and 
 your knees knock? and a desperate inclination to run, if your legs 
 would have carried you ? Hey, Tom, hey ?" 
 
 " I did feel a little queer certainly," replied Tom Hamilton, with the 
 gravest face in the world, " but I was not at all inclined to run away. 
 I would not for the world have missed hearing what the ghost had 
 to say." 
 
 " And what the deuce did she say ?" exclaimed the peer, with his 
 curiosity a good deal excited, and conscience beginning to fidget on 
 her chair, with not the most easy sensations in the world — "tell us 
 what she did say, Tom, if she said any thing." 
 
 " Oh yes," replied Tom Hamilton, " we had a long conversation 
 together ; but I am afraid you may not very well like to hear what she 
 did say — it was not particularly pleasant or complimentary." 
 
 " Oh then hold your tongue," cried the peer, " I never like to be 
 rowed by man, woman, or spirit. — Here take some broiled chicken ; 
 you're off your feed, man ;" and the peer helped himself at the same 
 time to a leg, which he cayenned and salted prodigiously, but could 
 not get it down after he had done. 
 
 A pause of some four or five minutes ensued, and at length his lord- 
 ship exclaimed, " Come, Tom, let us hear what she did say ; curiosity 
 is a frisky devil, and will have her own way. But your are not joking, 
 are you ?" 
 
 " No indeed, my lord," replied Tom Hamilton, " the subject is too 
 serious a one to joke upon. But if you want to know what she said, it 
 began with ' Tell that old humbug, my brother ' " 
 
 " No, d — n it, Tom, did she say humbug ?" exclaimed the peer ; 
 " Come, that is not fair ; I am not a humbug, whatever I am." 
 
 " No, no, my lord," replied Tom Hamilton, " it was not humbug she 
 said. I cannot pretend to give all her words exactly, for I was in a 
 bit of a fright, it's true, but I recollect it was not humbug — it was 
 brute, so it was — * Tell that old brute, my brother,' she said " 
 
 " Ay, that's something like now," cried the peer, " brute she was 
 very likely to call me — indeed she did once or twice, if I recollect 
 right. Well what did she say besides, poor girl ?" 
 
 " She said, ' Tell that old brute, my brother,' " continued Tom 
 Hamilton, "'that '" 
 
 " I wasn't old in those days, either," cried the peer : " I was as gay 
 a young fellow as ever lived — something of your own kidney, but only 
 a little too fond of the horsewhip. Well, what more did she say — 
 tell that old brute, your brother that " 
 
 To say the truth, Tom Hamilton had not got his story up completely, 
 his hoax upon the peer being somewhat of a sudden thought ; and he 
 therefore added at random, " Tell him that he must do justice and 
 make atonement, or I will plague his heart out." 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 215 
 
 The peer looked perfectly aghast, " The devil she did," he exclaimed, 
 " I say, Tom, that's awkward." 
 
 " Very," replied Tom Hamilton. 
 
 " Did she say any thing more ?" demanded the peer. 
 
 " Oh, yes," answered his companion, " she said that he was a very 
 wicked man, her brother, and must do right before he died." 
 
 " And what more ?" demanded the viscount. 
 
 " Nothing," replied Tom Hamilton, " because just then we were in- 
 terrupted, for you must know that there's a sham ghost as well as a real 
 one in the house, and in the midst of our spiritual tete a tete in came a 
 mock ghost — some one who has been frightening your people for a long 
 while, I dare say — but I knew the difference between the real and the 
 false one in a minute, and saw that the latter was merely some one 
 masquerading." 
 
 " Who was it, who was it ?" cried the viscount : " some of those 
 jades of women, I'll answer for it." 
 
 " I dare say it was, viscount," replied Tom Hamilton ; " but as I 
 couldn't see her face, I can't say which. I have secured a way of finding 
 her out, however, for I caught hold of her by the gown. Look here ! 
 She pulled so hard that she broke away, and left this piece in my hand." 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha ! That's capital," cried the viscount. " We'll catch 
 her out — we'll have them all in, and make them show their gowns, 
 and then the one that matches the piece is the culprit. W^hat shall we 
 do with her, Tom ? — what shall we do with her ? Shall we flog her r" 
 
 " No, my lord, no," replied Tom Hamilton ; " I thought you had had 
 enough of the horsewhip ; and besides, the real ghost might not like 
 such a way of punishing her rival." 
 
 " Pooh, pooh ! that's nonsense now, Tom," said the peer : " by jingo, 
 1 believe you are hoaxing me, and have not seen a real ghost at all." 
 
 " On my life and honour, my lord," replied Tom Hamilton, in so 
 serious a tone that it was impossible to doubt he was in earnest," I saw 
 the real ghost exactly as .Jerry Tripe and your son described her, 
 dressed in a black mantilla and a grey satin gown. Her face was 
 more than pale, it was a bluish grey. If it had not been for that she 
 would have been very pretty." 
 
 " So she was, so she was, poor thing," said the viscoimt. 
 
 " There was no mistaking her," said Tom Hamilton — " no living 
 person ever had such a look as that. But the other was substantial 
 enough — a great, tall, strapping wench, after no good, I'll swear. Let's 
 have them up, my lord." 
 
 " Ay, so we will, so we will,'' cried the viscount, waking from a deep 
 reverie into which he had fallen. " Ring the bell, Tom, there's a good 
 fellow. But now let me manage it! Don't you say a word. I'll tell you 
 what we'll do when we have found her out — we'll set her in that chair, 
 and we'll make her drink a bottle of champagne, and then we'll paint 
 her a pair of moustachios, and pin upon her back ' The Ghost of Out- 
 run Castle ;' and after that we'll walk her through the village with the 
 marrow-bones and clea ers before her. Won't that be a good pimish- 
 ment ?" 
 
216 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 " Yes, my lord,'* replied Tom Hamilton, " but more fit for a grena 
 dier than a maid-servant, I should think." 
 
 " Well, well, ring the bell, ring the bell," cried the peer. " Let us 
 see who it is, first." 
 
 Tom Hamilton accordingly pulled the bell-rope, and the first person 
 who appeared was Jerry Tripe. 
 
 " Hark ye now, Jerry," cried his master, " we have an evolution to 
 perform, so mark and do what I tell you exactly. Send up every 
 maid in the house, from the housekeeper to the kitchen-maid's 
 helper ; and as soon as you are sure that they are all in here, take 
 the men and go into the maids' rooms, and fetch down their goods 
 and chattels. Bring all their boxes, and especially any gowns that you 
 can find. Don't say a word to them on your life ; but march them all 
 in here, rank and file, without distinction." 
 
 " Hadn't you better tell me what's the matter, my lord, and then I'll 
 act accordingly ?" said Jerry Tripe, with what authors call generous 
 confidence. 
 
 But his lord repelled him roughly, exclaiming, " Get out, and do as 
 you are bid, you vagabond, or by jingo, I'll make you. Quick! march! 
 send the girls in, and we'll settle the rest." 
 
 Jerry Tripe had nothing for it but to obey, though he paused twice — 
 once, half way between his master's chair and the door, and once at the 
 door itself, thinking it excessively odd that any thing should take place 
 in the house without his being consulted, and feeling a strong inclination 
 to stay and vindicate his vested rights. Finding it difficult, however, to 
 begin, he yielded his purpose, and beat his retreat from the room, just 
 at the moment that his master was about to reiterate his order. Some 
 five or ten minutes elapsed, passed by Tom Hamilton in devouring his 
 breakfast, and by the peer in alternate chucklings at the thought of what 
 he would do to the sham ghost, and reveries concerning the real one. At 
 length, however, a great cackling was heard in the passage ; the door was 
 thrown open, and in marched Jerry Tripe, like a stout drum-major, at 
 the head of a regiment of petticoats. Next to him stalked, with 
 stately air, and somewhat indignant look, the housekeeper, dressed in 
 tea-coloured silk, and a white muslin apron. Next rolled in the cook, 
 having her red and stalwart arms bared nearly to the shoulder, and 
 with a fiery glance in her eye which seemed to indicate an inclinatiow 
 to baste her master as heartily as ever she had basted the hissing joint. 
 Then glided forward, with timid step and downcast eyes, Jane, the upper 
 housemaid, then Sally and another sub, then the kitchen-maid, the 
 stillroom maid, till the long line, diminishing through a scullion, ended 
 almost at a point in the person of a diminutive ancilla, known only by 
 the designation of " the girl." 
 
 Ranging themselves along the side of the breakfast-room, this for- 
 midable array faced the viscount and Tom Hamilton as they sat at the 
 breakfast-table, and after gazing over them for a moment with mirth 
 and merriment in his jovial countenance, the peer burst into a loud and 
 uproarious laugh. The housekeeper bridled, the cook breathed flames, 
 Jane blushed up to the eyes, Sally looked brazen, the kitchen-maid 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 217 
 
 tittered, and a thin diminutive laugh, not bigger than could lie in a 
 snufF-box, but clear and hearty, was heard from the girl at the end of 
 the line, like a faint and far-off echo of the viscount's roar. 
 
 " Now, wenches," cried his lordship, as soon as he could smother his 
 cachinnation — "now, wenches, which of you is the ghost?" 
 
 The housekeeper could bear no more : " I'd have you to know, my 
 lord," she said, " that I am not a wench nor a ghost neither, for that 
 matter, and never will be, please God ; but I won't put up with it, that 
 I won't. Ill stay no longer, — I give you warning, my lord, — I'll go at 
 the end of the month. I do declare I've suffered enough in this house 
 to break the heart of any mortal woman, that I have ;" and the house- 
 keeper wept. 
 
 Sundry other signs of mutiny were beginning to display themselves, 
 and not a little serious was likely to be the result, (for who can say to 
 what lengths female wrath will go, when led by a housekeeper and 
 supported by a cook,) but just at the moment that it was likely to 
 explode from the lips of the latter personage, again the door flew 
 open, and in walked the whole array of men-servants. Bearing the spoils 
 of the maids' rooms both in boxes and out of boxes, each man 
 advanced, and each at the feet of its fair owner laid down the burthen 
 that he carried. 
 
 " Now retire, Jerry Tripe," exclaimed the peer, entering into the 
 dramatic spirit of the thing ; " let every one in breeches quit the room 
 but myself and Thomas Hamilton, esquire ; but keep well the door, 
 and let no one go out without an order." 
 
 " Now, wenches, you must know," he cried, as soon as the room was 
 cleared of the lackeys, " now, wenches, you must know that some 
 one has been playing ghost in Outrun Castle. She was caught by Tom 
 Hamilton last night, and in her struggle to get away left this piece of 
 her muslin gown in his hand." 
 
 " I'm sure it was not I," cried Sally, boldly, " or I'd have scratched 
 his eyes out." But the viscount continued without heeding her, while 
 Tom Hamilton gave her an insinuating look with very little effect. 
 
 " Now," cried the peer, " I will know who is the ghost ; and who- 
 soever has a gown that this piece of muslin fits will stand convicted of 
 the offence. Give me none of your airs, but obey, or, by jingo, you 
 shall suffer for it. Now, Mrs. Housekeeper, it's clear enough that 
 yours isn't the gown, but you shall go through the same ceremony as 
 the rest for your impudence, so turn round slowly before me." 
 
 The peer's face was dark and threatening ; the housekeeper, not- 
 withstanding her official powers, was overawed, and though she strove 
 to yield with dignity, still she yielded, sailing roimd before the peer as 
 if she had been dancing the minitet de la cour. The cook flounced 
 round, to use an appropriate expression, like a parched pea in a frying- 
 pan. Jane turned round in a great fright about she knew not what. 
 Sally pirouetted with all the sauce in the world, and kitchenmaids, 
 scullions, stillroom maids, and the small girl at the end, all whirled 
 about like that gentleman, famous in song, who is, at all events, first 
 
218 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 cousin to Jack Daw.* No one, however, showed the rent gown, or 
 one which, in any way, would match with the trophy of Tom Hamilton." 
 
 " By jingo, this is funny," cried the peer. " And now, Tom, for the 
 boxes." 
 
 The onslaught upon the maids' paraphernalia then commenced in 
 serious earnest — if that can be called serious which was accompanied 
 by such peals and shouts of laughter as perhaps never before were 
 heard. Gowns, stockings, petticoats, shoes, aprons, handkerchiefs, 
 shifts, and night-caps, were dragged forth with relentless cruelty by 
 the daring viscount, who held them up, and commented as he pro- 
 ceeded, while his fat sides shook and walloped, and the tears rolled 
 down his cheeks under the irresistible influence of Momus. If the act, 
 however, was indecent in itself, his comments upon it were still more 
 so, and conseqjiently we shall not enter into any of the details, but 
 simply state the great and important result. Yes, reader, great and 
 important was the result. Human nature will bear cruelty, oppression, 
 tyranny, of every kind ; the most turbulent and rebellious will lick the 
 spittle of the greatest despot that the world ever saw, and present that 
 part of their person usually employed for the purpose of being kicked 
 with the greatest suavity and satisfaction. We have seen it in France, 
 we may see it in every country of Europe ; but let the tyrant beware 
 how he laughs — you may do any thing with man but laugh at him, or 
 woman either. The spirit of revolt I have shown was rising ; and the 
 peer's laughter, in which Tom Hamilton could not refrain from joining 
 — though he avoided all share in his perquisitions — roused indignation 
 step by step, as he went down the line. The housekeeper flounced, 
 tossed up her head, and exclaimed, " Well, I declare!" The cook 
 grinned, and swelled, and clutched her hands spasmodically, as if she 
 was kneading dough. Jane burst into tears ; and Sally, when she saw 
 the peer diving deep into the penetralia of her box, caught the red 
 velvet night-cap from his head, threw it in his face, and gave him an 
 awful box on the ear. The flame communicated itself to every one ; 
 forward they rushed upon the peer and Tom Hamilton — they pulled 
 them, they pinched them, they cufled them, they scratched them ; they 
 took up the linen, dirty and clean, and showering it upon their devoted 
 heads, half smothered them under the load. Then, all rushing out of 
 the room in a body, they shouted, as if with one voice, " You may 
 laugh now if you like." 
 
 * The writer is generallj supposed to have meant some particular person of that 
 age of the name of Raven, (a very common name in some counties of England,) 
 whose deeds are not recorded ; others, however, more learnedly suppose that he 
 had a particular allusion, and meant to designate some minister who had fre- 
 quently changed his party ; while a few, and those principally of the vulgar and 
 illiterate, assert that he merely spoke of a character in one of the popular songs 
 of the day, and, in proof of their accuracy, quote the words " Wheel about, and 
 turn about, and jump Jim Crow." They do not, however, satisfy us who this Jim 
 or James Crow was ; and we need not point out to the reader, that such a vulgar 
 and silly allusion is not likely to find its way into so serious a work as this. 
 

 F^:_ 
 
 «f 
 
ȣ LUKATICO INQUIREMDO. 21P 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 A GHOST CAN BE IN A FKIGHT LAURA. BEGINS TO DOUBT THE SATETT OF HER 
 
 PROCEEDINGS DIFFICULTIES UNPROVIDED FOR A NOCTURNAL VISITANT 
 
 MADEMOISELLE BROCHET APPEARS, AND PUTS THE SHOE UPON THE RIGHT 
 
 HORSE LAURA DREAMS OF MATRIMONY WITHOUT LOVE MADEMOISELLE 
 
 BROCKET FINDS A LIKENESS FOR HERSELF LAURA DOES NOT FOLLOW THE 
 
 EXAMPLE OF LOVE IN LAUGHING AT LOCKSMITHS MADEMOISELLE BROCHET 
 
 CONDUCTS HER INTO THE PORCH OF THE TRIPBIAN TEMPLE, AND DISCOVERS AN 
 
 IMPORTANT LETTER TO WHICH SHE PUTS THE FINISHING STROKE JEBBT TRIPE 
 
 AWAKES INOPPORTUNELY. 
 
 If Tom Hamilton was frightened at the ghost — and we have boldly 
 acknowledged that he was — the ghost was not much less frightened at 
 Tom Hamilton. Although she had played her part in the affray with 
 courage and decision, Laura's little heart was undoubtedly beating at a 
 much more rapid rate than was agreeable, when she returned to her own 
 room after her adventures in the picture gallery. She had been frus- 
 trated, indeed, in her great object, that of meeting again with Jerry 
 Tripe, and eliciting from him any further information regarding the 
 secret to which he had alluded under the first influence of terror. But 
 she had, moreover, found that there were other persons on the watch for 
 her, whom it might be somewhat less easy to deceive in regard to her 
 peculiar state of existence. Fright, dear reader, as thou knowest, if 
 ever thou hast tried, is a sad damper of the enterprising spirit, unless it 
 be carried to that pitch at which — as a learned friend of ours, from one 
 of the English universities, gracefully expressed it — " a feline animal, in 
 the apex of a right angle, assumes the leonine natiu-e." Laura, conse- 
 quently, was hurried at once into the rash resolution — ^for fear is almost 
 always the parent of rashness — of giving up all further peregrinations 
 in Outrun Castle, and abandoning Jerry Tripe's secret to his own care 
 and discretion. She turned the key quickly in the door as soon as she 
 entered her chamber, and leaning against it with a palpitating heart, lis- 
 tened for the steps of the pursuer. No such steps were heard, however ; 
 and after taking breath and taking courage for the space of about 
 ten minutes, she set down the lamp on the table, re-lighted her two 
 candles, and began to disencumber herself of her ghostly apparel, 
 wash her face from the paint with which she had daubed it, and 
 emerge from the spiritual representative of the late Honourable Lucy 
 Fitzurse, into pretty little Laura Longmore once more, with eyes as 
 bright, and cheeks well nigh as rosy as ever. Then she drank a little 
 water, and then she thought she would undress and go to bed. Pur- 
 poses, determinations, and considerations, however, kept her there sit- 
 ting at the table for some time. Having rashly resolved, as we have said, 
 to give up the pursuit of the secret, and, as the door of the room was 
 
220 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 open at her will, to bid good-bye to Outrun Castle, and take herself 
 home, the next question was, when and how she was to perform 
 this intention. When she had first discovered the key in the door, 
 it had all seemed as easy to her as lying, to use Hamlet's compli- 
 ment, to this mendacious world ; or rather, as Laura — bless her little 
 heart — was not at all given to lying, we will say, as easy as speaking 
 the truth ; but now a thousand difficulties appeared. If she attempted 
 to make her escape in the day she was very likely to be stopped and 
 brought back again ; if she executed it at once, the prospect of a 
 night's lodging in the park was not particularly agreeable. How was 
 she to get out of the park ? Where was she to go when she got out ? 
 She had left Ivy Hall in no very pleasant predicament ; and she was 
 very sure that there was neither stick, stock, nor stone of it standing. 
 All this was as inauspicious as it could be ; and she calculated upon 
 tripping along through the country like a demoiselle errante^ with no 
 very satisfactory feelings. The greatest of all her difficulties, indeed, 
 was how she was to trip along, as we have said ; for though she had 
 found plenty of stockings, there was not a shoe in the box that would 
 fit her, and consequently she would be obliged to follow the example 
 of the hen, and 
 
 « Go barefoot, barefoot." 
 
 Now, as her feet were as delicate little white feet as ever were put into a 
 satin shoe, she did not at all like the idea of trusting them to the tender 
 mercies of a rough road. She had found her shoelessness not very plea- 
 sant in her ghostly wanderings over the comfortable carpets of Outrun 
 Castle, though to say the truth, her delicate step upon the soles of her 
 stockings, had not a little contributed to make her pass current as the 
 being of another sphere. To go, however, she was determined ; and she 
 had just brought her mind to think that the best plan would be to make 
 her escape in the grey of the dawn on the following morning, if she could 
 but persuade her eyes to open at a proper hour, when she was suddenly 
 startled and thrown into a state of terrible agitation by hearing a tap 
 at the larger of the two doors which led from the corridor into her 
 chamber. Laura listened, and heard her heart beat against her stays 
 most unconscionably, but for a minute or two she heard nothing else. 
 Then, however, came another tap, and then a voice in a whisper, as if 
 somebody had put his mouth to the key-hole, crying " Hist, hist ! I 
 want to speak a word to you, a petit, petit motr 
 
 As quick as lightning it passed through Laura's 'mind, first, that she 
 could not well pretend to be asleep, inasmuch as the light of her candles 
 must be shining through the key-hole; next, that her late visitor 
 could not be any of the ordinary tenants of Outrun Castle, as the first 
 thing he would have done, under those circumstances, would have been 
 to unlock the door, the key of which was on the outside. Hope, then, 
 of some assistance, rose suddenly up in her heart, and approaching the 
 door, she said, " Who are you ? what do you want ?" 
 
 " Let me in," said the voice again, " I want to give you du secours. 
 I am Joey Pike, alias Mademoiselle Brochet, valet de chambre and 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 221 
 
 master of the robes to the very venerable the Chevalier de Lunatico. 
 I have found out all about it, and wish to deliver you." 
 
 Laura glanced round her room, and a blush rose up in her cheeks at 
 the very idea of suffering a man to come into her bedchamber, for she 
 had never received those sweet instructions in modesty which so many 
 of our fair countrywomen now take advantage of in Italy, where male 
 housemaids make the beds and arrange the rooms of the interesting 
 young maidens who travel for the improvement of their morals and their 
 hearts. However, the idea of deliverance overcame all scruples ; Joey 
 Pike was too remarkable a person, and too near a neighbour of Ivy 
 Hall not to be well known to the fair Laura, and his tone and language 
 left no doubt of his identity, as soon as it was heard. With a timid 
 hand Laura undrew the bolt, and not choosing to trust the secret of the 
 other entrance to any one, she bade Joey Pike turn the key of the 
 principal door, which he did after feeling for it during a second or two, 
 for Joey was in utter darkness. What was Laura's surprise and con- 
 sternation, however, when the door opened, and instead of a smart- 
 looking youth in a blue coat and a crimson velvet waistcoat, appeared 
 a smirking, smiling damsel, with long black ringlets, bonnet and each- 
 mere, a muslin gown, and a sevigne on her forehead. Laura literally 
 started back, while Joey Pike, resuming in a moment the character of 
 Mademoiselle Brochet, tripped into the room, made a low courtesy, and 
 exclaimed, " I vairy glad to see you. Enchanti de votes voir ! How 
 you was this many a day, Mees Laura — I hope you well, and you 
 excellent papa, wid hees pigtail ?" 
 
 Speedily, however, Laura became convinced of the identity of Joey 
 Pike and Mademoiselle Brochet, and giving way to her natural dis- 
 position for fun, she laughed most heartily at his transformation. 
 
 " You come wid me now," he said, after some farther explanations 
 " You go wid me quite safe trough de park. I very respectable young 
 voman ; once you get to de half moon, you be quite safe dere." 
 
 " But I have got no shoes," said Laura. 
 
 " No shoe, no shoe ?" cried Mademoiselle Brochet, " dat vairy bad, 
 vairy bad indeed. You cannot walk or hop eider ; but I soon do for 
 you ; I go steal you a pair of shoe. Jane's foot is vairy leetle, but if 
 dat not do, de girl's will. Lend me your lamp for one moment, Ma'am- 
 selle Laura," and catching up the lamp, away went Joey Pike in search 
 of spoil. 
 
 He was not long gone, and on his re-appearance he brought two pair 
 of shoes with him, one of which answered the purpose, though it did 
 not fit very well. Still Laura had some objection to a night expedition, 
 but Joey Pike now showed her that in two hours, or little more, the 
 sky would be getting grey ; and it was finally arranged that Joey 
 should ensconce himself in some part of the house, and come to tap 
 at Laura's door again with the first ray of the morning sun. The 
 pretty little prisoner locked her door and lay down — ^without taking off 
 her clothes, however; but fatigue almost instantly overcame her, her 
 eyes closed, and she went sound to sleep. Fancy played its usual 
 vagaries, and she instantlv set to work to dream aU manner of things. 
 
222 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 The first vision was, that she was married to the Chevalier de Lunatico, 
 and she did not like it at all ; but speedily a change came over the 
 figure of her dream. The chevalier began to alter amazingly ; his 
 cheeks plumped out, his grey eyes became browner and more brown ; 
 his almost white hair took a darker hue, and curled and waved round 
 his forehead ; a considerable whisker extended itself upon each cheek ; 
 the look of clear, sharp, moonshiny intelligence melted into an expres- 
 sion of tenderness and love ; the chevalier, in short, was metamor- 
 phosed into Harry Worrel, and Laura liked it very much indeed. She 
 was just in the midst of her happiness, when some one tapped at the 
 door, and, starting up in haste, she approached and asked who was 
 there ? 
 
 " Oest moii mademoiselle,*^ cried Mademoiselle Brochet, " eet is 
 your vairy humble sairvant and lady's maid. Time to be gone, I 
 tink.'' 
 
 Laurft opened the door without more ado, and, wrapping herself up 
 as well as she could in the mantilla, she issued forth into the still and 
 silent corridors of Outrun Castle, with a faint, blueish-grey light 
 stealing through the tall windows, and shining peacefully but sadly 
 upon the pictures of the dead. 
 
 " Had we not better go this way ?" said Laura in a whisper, pointing 
 to the great staircase. " Do you know your way ?" 
 
 * Every inch of the house from my childhood," cried Joey, forgetting 
 his French extraction for a moment. " The door of the great hall is 
 locked," and on he went along the picture-gallery. 
 
 As they passed on, Laura could not refrain from pausing for a 
 moment before the picture of her whose representative she had been, 
 and gazing up with a degree of melancholy interest upon the counte- 
 nance of one, vague rumours of whose sad fate had reached her ears 
 more than once. The picture was a fine one, and as the light in- 
 creased each moment, the figure seemed to live before her ; the soft 
 brown eyes appeared to look at her with tenderness and affection, and 
 the whole expression, ay, even the features seemed familiar to Laura's 
 memory, as if those of some dear departed friend. Has it not often 
 been so with yourself, reader, when you have gazed upon a well-painted 
 picture, that you have found a sort of reality and identity about it 
 which has made you think that you have known the person? Laura's 
 reverie, however, was interrupted by Joey Pike whispering — 
 
 " She was a pretty woman, wasn't she, Miss Laura ?'* 
 
 " Yes, indeed," replied Laura, " very pretty, I think." 
 
 " Ah, yes," replied Joey Pike, with a self-satisfied tone, " I was 
 always considered very like her when I was a child." 
 
 Laura turned and looked in his face with surprise, but, as she did 
 so, she could not help owning that what he said was true. As he 
 stood there with his bonnet and ringlets there was a considerable like- 
 ness — one of those absurd, wild, caricature resemblances which one 
 sometimes sees between very ugly and very beautiful people. She 
 felt mortified to see it, so much had she admired the picture, and yet 
 she felt inclined to laugh ; but not wishing to do so, she walked on 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIKENDO. 223 
 
 followed by Mademoiselle Brochet. After they had descended the 
 small staircase, wound through one or two passages, and got into the 
 stone-floored part of the house, they found themselves opposite to a 
 door ; but, alack-and-a-well-a-day ! the door was locked and the key 
 was out. Joey Pike threw himself into an attitude of wonder and 
 consternation, although it must be owned his petticoats were a great 
 impediment to his grace. 
 
 " Dat old knave have kep his word," he said, resuming Mademoi- 
 selle Brochet. " Begar ! he have lock all de door not to let me out, 
 when I would not support his nauseous tenderness. Vat can be done 
 now r 
 
 " Really," replied Laura, " I cannot tell." 
 
 " Let me try de oder tree door," cried Mademoiselle Brochet ; " den 
 if all be lock, I go into his room and get the key, den ven he vake, I 
 knock him down and shut him in." 
 
 There seemed no other resource : all the doors proved to be locked 
 with a vigilance rarely exercised in Outrun Castle, and Joey Pike led 
 the way with a cautious step towards the especial apartments of Jeremy 
 Tripe, Esq. Those apartments consisted of his pantry, which was 
 external — the porch of the temple, in short ; and within that again his 
 sleeping apartment — the penetralia where the fat idol lay and snored. 
 The door of the pantry was not locked, and mademoiselle opening it 
 entered with a noiseless step. There was no shutter to the room, and 
 as the pillars of Balbec show the majestic splendours of a former day, 
 so did tumblers and glasses, a brandy bottle, a sugar can, and three 
 circular stains on the table, monument the revels of the preceding night. 
 But there was another interesting object on the board. Close by an 
 inkstand was a sheet of paper, written from the top nearly to the bot- 
 tom in a tolerably good hand, which Joey Pike immediately recognised 
 as that of the jovial butler, who, apparently, disappointed of the com- 
 pany of his fair Brochet, had drank and written, and written and drank 
 again, as long as he was able. At the end of the letter, however, there 
 were two words, one tolerably distinct, but the other utterly effaced, 
 presenting nothing but a large round blur, with a few undecipherable 
 scratches in the middle. It was evident that the head of Jerry Tripe 
 had fallen forward, and his nose had taken the place which his pen had 
 formerly occupied. As soon as Joey Pike beheld it, the irresistible 
 spirit of fun seized him, and taking the quill he dipped it in the ink and 
 wrote by the side of the blur, " Jerry Tripe, his mark." 
 
 In doing so, however, his eye fell upon some words in the beginning 
 of the letter, and snatching it up he read the whole of it eagerly. It 
 was to the following effect : — 
 
 " My dear creetur. 
 
 When we were interrupted this morning by that tiresome, 
 good-for-nothing French gal, I was in the middle of talkin' to you about 
 matters of great importance. As to that 'ere marriage certificat 
 which your husband defunck always kepp in his gray breeches' pocket 
 — poor man, I wonder what always made him wear gray breeches — but 
 
224 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 as touching that *ere, I am authoritated by my lord to offer you the 
 matter of a twenty-pound note if you find it and deliver it to me. And 
 now, my dear Scap., I'll tell you something more — you know how I 
 love you, and if you can contrive to bring it up to me within three days, 
 rU manage so to work the old 'im, that you shall get another ten pound 
 out of him. Don't let nobody know nothing about it you know — but 
 just come up to the castle, and ask for 
 
 "Jerry Tripe, 
 His mark." 
 
 << There, there !" cried Joey Pike, showing the letter to Laura, " my 
 lortune's made ! But let us take the keys, and I will take the letter. 
 There they hang, behind the door in the old gentleman's room ;" and 
 advancing quietly he reached down the key of the outer door; but while 
 his hand was still raised in the execution of this purpose, a loud noise, 
 as if Jerry Tripe, bed and all, had tumbled down together, was heard 
 from the next room, the door burst open with tremendous violence, 
 almost knocking Joey Pike down behind it, and, to Laura's horror and 
 astonishment, there stood Jerry himself, in his night-shirt, with his 
 red nose flaming in the brightening twilight, like a large lantern-fly 
 just buzzing forth from its hole in a tree on the approach of a 
 tropical night. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIBENDO. 22/^ 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 A DINNER-PARTY THE INCUBUS OF THE PARISH MR. DEPUTY POPESEYE THE 
 
 USE OF SNUFF PLEASANT CONVERSATION " MOCK TURTLE" THE WISDOM OF 
 
 PLAYING AT CARDS LUNAR ACCOMMODATION FOR GAMBLERS A VOICE FROM 
 
 WITHOUT. 
 
 There was evidently a party. The cackle of manifold voices struck 
 the ear of the Chevalier de Lunatico, as he approached .the door of 
 the drawing-room, and when he entered, he found two or three neigh- 
 bouring families of the country-gentlemen class, commencing in general 
 at a stout, broad-shouldered, hale-looking, grey-haired papa, and 
 passing down through a respectable matron, and a somewhat gawky 
 young lady, to a shy youth of eighteen, beginning to feel himself the 
 man, and not knowing well how to set about his new vocation. Three 
 persons, however, caught his attention particularly, from various circum- 
 stances : the first was a young man who had a clerical air, besides a black 
 coat, a white neckcloth, shoes, and silk stockings ; he was of a saturnine 
 complexion, with small gold-rimmed spectacles, and a face which would 
 have been as grave as that of a judge passing sentence, had it not been 
 for a twinkle of indescribable fun in liis small dark eager eyes, which 
 peeped through his glasses, marking every thing round about, like 
 rabbits looking out of their burrows ; he was speaking in a low tone to 
 Miss Rotundity, and as the chevalier entered, he heard him say, " Yes, I 
 can promise it to you for a certainty. It was already packed up at 
 Crocodilopolis, and was only waiting for two ships to carry it over." 
 
 " Two ships !" exclaimed the lady. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, my dear madam," he continued ; " one merchant ship 
 would not be long enough to hold it. The smallest specimen of the 
 fossil crocodile is a hundred and ten feet long, and I am assured this 
 is a very large one." 
 
 " Dear me !" cried Miss Rotundity. " Two ships ! How will they 
 ever be able to keep them together ?" • 
 
 " Oh, very easily," answered her collocutor : " they will lash the bow- 
 sprit of the one to the boom of the other, make the whole fast by 
 graplines, and the very back bone of the crocodile will form an un- 
 breakable link between them." 
 
 " We must build a room for it," said Miss Rotundity. 
 
 " Oh, I will have over for you the plan of one of the crocodilatories 
 from Crocodilopolis," he rejoined ; and was just proceeding to tell her 
 how the whole was to be arranged, by running a gallery of two hun- 
 dred feet long behind the hot-house and the pinery, when the eye of 
 
 C. — NO. VIII. Q 
 
226 THE COMMISSI ONETl ; OB, 
 
 Miss Serpentaria fell upon the chevalier, and beckoning him up, she 
 introduced him to Mr. Jones, the incubus of the parish. 
 
 The next person who attracted his attention, was a person whose 
 superficies was of no ordinary dimensions. He was a man of more 
 than middle height, but who looked positively short from the width to 
 which he had extended ; nor was it alone the venter Sardanapali whicli 
 had received this enormous growth. The arms and the chest were fat, 
 the legs were worthy pillars of the state, and each shoulder bore half a 
 hundred weight of adipose matter; wliile resting upon them, with scarcely 
 room for a cravat between, was a head in fair proportion, with a broad 
 face, full of jovial enjoyment. It was impossible to look upon that coun- 
 tenance, and not to see that a right merry heart had contributed as much 
 as a right good appetite, to the obesity of of its possessor. He was 
 almost immediately introduced to the chevalier as Mr. Deputy Popes- 
 eye, and bursting forth into a fat, gravy-sounding laugh, as his new 
 acquaintance eyed him with some degree of awe, he rubbed his stout 
 hands together, exclaiming, " Haw, haw, haw! You. don't see many 
 such specimens as me, I take it, in your conmion council, chevalier.** 
 
 Mr. de Lunatico acknowledged that people were not usually so fat 
 in his country, but as he spoke, his hand was taken by no less a per- 
 sonage than his former host, Mr. Longshanks, who seemed sincerely 
 pleased to see him. The chevalier's first inquiry was for poor Nelly Bain, 
 to which Mr. Longshanks answered in his usual abrupt and hasty tone, 
 " Oh, the old fool goes on pining and weeping from time to time, just 
 as if, in some half-dozen years, she would not meet her son in heaven. 
 He was a good boy, and she is a good woman, and they are sure to 
 meet. What's the use in going about snivelling and gloomy because 
 she doesn't see him for a year or two. They would have been longer 
 parted, in all probability, if he had gone to India! And yet the old ass 
 bears it so patiently and meekly, it's that which provokes me. If she 
 would blubber outright, I could scold, and then I shouldn't care, but 
 the tear never gets farther than the corner of her eye, and one sees that 
 it is in her heart that she weeps." 
 
 With that he thrust his hand into one of the large flaps of his waist- 
 coat, drew out a ponderous gold box, extracted from it enough of a 
 black-looking powder to have charged a musket, and crammed the 
 dust up his left nostril. 
 
 " May I ask w hat that stuff is ?'* said the chevalier. " I have seen a 
 great number of persons stopping their noses with something of the 
 same kind, as if this country was famous for bad smells, and they 
 wanted to keep them out. 
 
 " I will tell you what it is, chevalier," said Mr. Longshanks ; " it is 
 what we call snuff, the powder of a poisonous weed, which, by this 
 process, is rendered very serviceable to our frailties. I have heard 
 that you think us all mad, but that is a mistake ; we are only all 
 foolish. This snuff gives a man something to do when he has nothing ; 
 spares many an empty head the trouble of making an answer ; gives 
 politicians, hypocrites, and knaves, time to compound a lie, when they 
 have not one ready ; furnishes a wise look for a fool's face ; enables 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 227 
 
 men by a grimace to cover an emotion, and prevents people from 
 leading you by the nose, for fear of dirting their fingers. There's 
 dinner, however ; now you'll see some of the antics of English society. 
 Who's to go out first, and who's to go out last, is a matter of as much 
 importance, as if those who got the earliest to the table, ate up all the 
 food before the rest could get at it." 
 
 We shall not pause upon the dinner at Rotundity Court, that is to 
 say, upon the things that were on the board. As might be expected 
 from the character of the host, there was every thing that was good, 
 and a terrible onslaught took place during the first course. It was all 
 done in silence, too — profound, voracious silence : everybody looked 
 at his plate, thought of his plate, or at the utmost, carried his eyes and 
 his imaginings to the neighbouring dishes, except, indeed, Harry Worrel 
 and the chevalier — the one thinking, naturally enough, of his absent 
 love ; the other eating delicately, as usual, and then lolling back in his 
 chair, with his hand upon the stalk of a wine-glass full of white her- 
 mitage, marking with his keen, clear, grey eye, and moonshiny smile, 
 the faces of the feeders round him. Gradually, however, the edge of 
 appetite was blunted ; people began to say a few words to each other, 
 and the ladies were asked to take wine : champagne began to circulate, 
 and M'ith it conversation, till at length a clatter, unmatched since the 
 days of Babel, rose around the devastated board. Everybody was 
 speaking at once: some in an under buz to their next neighbour; 
 some in a loud tone across the table ; some in a shout from end to end ; 
 and as each was talking of a different subject, the meaning was some- 
 what confused. 
 
 " Whether the nebulcB which I first discovered to the east of Lyra, 
 with my astronomical plunger, as I call my great telescope ," ex- 
 claimed Mr. Longmore, talking to a young lady, who liad nothing 
 to say in reply. 
 
 " The teleosaurus that I was mentioning," said the curate to Miss 
 Rotundity, " used to feed upon the pygopterus, a fossil fish, with fins 
 nineteen yards long " 
 
 " As hard a morsel as ever was chewed " said Mr. Deputy 
 
 Popeseye, speaking of a tough haunch of venison which he remembered 
 having eaten three years before. 
 
 " And if there was a grand hospital for mischievous idiots," said 
 Mr. Longshanks, speaking to a country magistrate, " I would under" 
 take to fill it with thirty thousand patients from the bench in England 
 and Wales alone, to say nothing of Ireland and Scotland, which would 
 require greater accommodation." 
 
 '^ Plus aloes quam mellis habet" said Alderman Rotundity, with 
 a shy look at the chevalier 
 
 " I only danced with him once, I am sure " said a young lady 
 
 near to a young gentleman who had a jealous countenance. 
 
 " A glass of wine. Rotundity ?" 
 
 " What shall it be ?" 
 
 " A little vol au vent, if you please." 
 
 <* Pig-hop-to-us ! What a funny name." 
 
228 THE commissioneb; ob, 
 " Some soda-water " 
 
 " The alderman's walk 
 
 « Megalotis '' 
 
 " Pyrmont water " 
 
 "Fined him five shillings, and committed him three months in 
 
 default " 
 
 " Looks very bad indeed " 
 
 " Delightful conversation " 
 
 " It's all smut " 
 
 " Lcetus sum laudari ** 
 
 "Miocene " 
 
 " Oxygen " 
 
 " Catalogue of stars " 
 
 " Notagogus " 
 
 " Member for the borough- 
 
 Gross bribery and corruption in ' 
 
 " The best kitchen that ever was built ** 
 
 " Of London clay, and " 
 
 " Hock, if you please " 
 
 Make the best of it you can, reader, Mr. de Lunatico could make 
 nothing. Thus passed an hour or two in the great occupation of 
 eating; an occupation which, alas, in every country, and amongst all 
 nations, whether their glories have been in war or intellect, whether 
 their tastes have been for poetry or the sword, has been from the 
 times immemorial of killing the fatted calf down to the invention of 
 the last new dish, the grand object, apparently, of human existence. 
 Yes, reader, yes ; though the world, as a novelist has lately said, is one 
 great battle-field, the object of the strife with us — as with the tiger and 
 the pike — is food. Oh yes, man is a voracious, a most voracious animal, 
 and, with cool, determinate forethought, leaves at least one half of his 
 happiness in the hands of his cook. I wish, my dear chevalier, you 
 could amend all this, for I cannot help thinking there is a touch of 
 lunacy in suffering one's peace of mind to rest upon the frail support 
 of a haunch of venison, or even the back of a rabbit. Let us hear, 
 however, what may be said upon both sides. At that very board, an 
 able defence was made for the pleasures of the table, not quite conclu- 
 sive, perhaps, but certainly con amove. 
 
 The table-cloth had been removed, exquisite claret perfumed the 
 air, the ladies had withdrawn, and the gentlemen, full of food, and 
 bursting with hilarity, were talking, laughing, chatting, and drinking, 
 when the voice of Alderman Rotundity rose high above the din, 
 addressing Mr. Deputy Popeseye, who sat near him. 
 
 " Nay, my dear friend, nay, I will take no excuse : I unaerstand 
 your delicacy, but I must have it : consider, here is the Chevalier de 
 Lunatico, who has come expressly to mark our manners and our 
 customs : I will have one of your famous songs. Hoarse, my dear 
 friend ? Your voice was never clearer." 
 
 " Well, well. Rotundity, well, well," answered Mr. Deputy Popeseye, 
 " if you like it, I have no objection. What shall it be ?" 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 229 
 
 « Oh, *Mock Turtle', *Mock Turtle,'" cried the alderman ; "it cannot 
 be better than * Mock Turtle/ Silence for a song, gentlemen, if you 
 please ; Mr. Deputy Popeseye for a song. That's what the toast-master 
 says, chevalier, at our great public dinners." 
 
 The stout citizen hemmed, sipped a little claret, looked round with a 
 jovial and humorous expression, and then thrusting one tliumb into 
 each waistcoat pocket, proceeded in a good round tone of voice to sing 
 the following song : — 
 
 MOCK TURTLE. 
 
 ** When a man has got old, 
 And his blood has grown cold, 
 
 And his stomach has ta'en an advance, 
 The bright eyes that shine 
 Can't seduce from his wine, 
 
 And the feast wins the day of the dance, 
 
 Of the dance — 
 And the feast wins the day of the dance. 
 
 " A whole book from the bard 
 Is not worth Bleaden's card — 
 
 None but asses can feed upon myrtle ; 
 And our festival nights. 
 To a lover's delights, 
 
 Are as green fat compared to mock turtle, 
 
 Mock turtle — 
 Are as green fat compared to mock turtle. 
 
 ** Oh, the calipash see, 
 And the sweet calipee, 
 
 In them there's no trick nor deceit : 
 Iced punch is all true. 
 And the haunch is no shrew — 
 
 There's no jealous suspicion in meat, 
 
 In meat — 
 There's no jealous suspicion in meat. 
 
 *' Look at yon lover there 
 With his maiden I — He'd swear 
 
 There's a dove's gentle heart 'neath that kirtle ; 
 But yet he may find. 
 When the knot is entwined. 
 
 That her kisses were only mock turtle, 
 
 Mock turtle — 
 That her kisses were only mock turtle." 
 
 The Chevalier de Lunatico did not look upon either the music or 
 the verses as particularly excellent, but all the rest of the company 
 applauded. He was a diplomatist, and he applauded too. He ven- 
 tured, however, after a short interval, to ask Mr. Deputy Popeseye, in 
 a low voice, if he believed in the immortality of the soul. 
 
 " To be sure, to be sure," cried the deputy ; " haw, haw, haw ! to be 
 sure : if it's a good one, I don't know a better fisii." 
 
230 THE commissioner; on, 
 
 " The man's consistent, at all events," thought the chevalier ; and 
 turning to Mr. Jones, the curate, he was asking him some questions in 
 regard to the stories with which he filled the head of Miss Rotundity ; 
 and as to whether, in a speculative point of view, he thought lying a 
 Christian virtue, when the door of the dining-room opened, and a 
 servant entering, carried a note up to Mr. Longshanks, saying that it 
 was of immediate consequence. 
 
 " Ah, some great fool, some great fool," cried the surgeon ; « some 
 great fool who has got a pain in the tip of his nose, and thinks it a 
 matter of life and death. Tell them I won't get up for any man. If 
 he is dying, he may die ; a good thing for his relations, too, I dare say, 
 and for the legacy duty." 
 
 All this was said without even looking at the note, and the servant 
 naturally moved towards the door again ; but ere he reached it, the 
 splenetic gentleman exclaimed, " Stay, stay a moment ;" and breaking 
 open the epistle, looked at its contents. As he did so, the sour 
 expression of his countenance became chequered with a look of a 
 different kind, and after fidgetting for a moment on his seat, looking at 
 Mr. Longmore, at Harry Worrel, and the chevalier, he beckoned the 
 servant up to him again, saying, " Tell my fool of a groom to bring 
 round the gig — I must go, I suppose." 
 
 He then rose and shook hands, saying aloud, " There, Rotundity, 
 don't drink any more wine ; you've had quite enough ; and if you go 
 on, you'll quote bad Latin, till you confound all the genders, and 
 obscure all the cases. It's a pity for a clever man, and a good man, to 
 make a beast of himself: you don't do it often, but once is too often 
 a great deal. Good night, good night. — Well, what do you want with 
 me, Mr. Deputy ?" he continued, speaking to the worthy vocalist who 
 had taken his hand in a friendly manner ; " if I were your physician, 
 I'd have you tapped." 
 
 " No, no, no," cried the deputy, laughing good humouredly, and 
 laying his hand upon his broad paunch, " there's no fluid there but 
 good wine." 
 
 " Oil, oil, oil," cried the surgeon ; " oil enough to light your ward 
 for the whole winter. If they knew but how to turn you to account, 
 you'd be as good as a Greenland voyage to them. Chevalier, a word 
 with you ;" and he whispered for a moment or two in the ear of the 
 chevalier. 
 
 Whatever it was that he conununicated, it ended with " Not a word 
 mind, not a word till you hear from me ;" and then, looking full into 
 the face of the young curate, he added, in a low tone, " Mind, Jones, 
 what I said about the cards, if you have the head of a reasonable man, 
 the heart of a good one, or the principles of a Christian ;" and thus 
 saying, he turned upon his heel abruptly, and left the room. 
 
 " May I ask," said the chevalier, speaking to the curate as soon as 
 the buz had somewhat re-established itself — " may I ask what our good 
 friend meant about the cards ?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing," replied Mr. Jones, endeavouring to affect an indif- 
 ferent tone, "only he sees that yountr Handcock is here, who won 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 231 
 
 fifty guineas off me the last time I met him. You must know, that 
 when I was at Oxford," he continued, the influence of the chevalier's 
 powers getting the better of him, " I fell in with a card-playiiig set, 
 and acquired such a taste for it, that I cannot resist the temptation, do 
 what I will. I know it is very wrong, and sometimes I cannot tell 
 where to turn for a bank note to buy the babies clothes, or to pay the 
 bills of the house." 
 
 " What ! are you a married man ?" exclaimed the chevalier ; ** a 
 married man, and game ?" 
 
 The curate looked down with a sad and somewhat contrite look, 
 replying, " it is not exactly gaming, you know : I only play at cards, 
 and sometimes take a bet or two, but I am quite resolved not to do 
 that any more. I know it makes my wife very uneasy, and indeed we 
 are sometimes sadly straitened and low, so that I am obliged to come 
 out here and quiz Miss Rotundity, just to keep my spirits up." 
 
 " One vice following upon another," said the chevalier, in a medi- 
 tative tone. 
 
 As he thus said, he slipped his hand quietly into his breeches-pocket, 
 and took a ticket by the corner, thinking that the reverend gentleman 
 might be the better for a remove ; but just at that moment, his com- 
 panion repeated, " I know it is very wrong, very wrong indeed ; I 
 know every thing that can be said about it, and I am determined posi* 
 tively never to touch a card again." 
 
 The chevalier suffered the billet to remain ; and shortly after, the 
 party rose and proceeded to the drawing-rooms, which Mere thrown 
 open for all the neighbourhood. It was a very different scene from 
 the ball-room at the Mansion-house, and to the eyes of the chevalier, 
 a much pleasanter one, for he could not yet get himself to believe that 
 the convulsions of St. Vitus, or those produced by the bite of a taran- 
 tula, could ever be any thing, when performed voluntarily, but the act 
 of a madman. All here were tolerably quiet, though there was a little 
 of the gay volubility of youth, and a little of the sad garrulity of age ; 
 but there were a number of pretty rosy faces, and of bright, happy- 
 looking eyes, which made amenc^s for a good deal of chatter. The 
 chevalier was soon in his element, gliding from one to the other, like 
 moonshine upon the waters, and pleasing every body by his quiet, easy, 
 graceful way of disposing of every subject under discussion. He had 
 enjoyed himself thus for about an hour in the larger drawing-room, 
 and had twice seen the Rev. Mr. Jones walking about, and talking 
 quietly with his friends, when he suddenly missed that gentleman ; and 
 turning towards the next room, where some card-tables were laid out, he 
 beheld him looking over a game that was going on at one of the tables, 
 with his hands behind his back, and his head bent in an attitude of 
 much attention. The commissioner ventured upon a slight percussion 
 of the breath, to call his attention away from the table, but Mr. Jones 
 was deep in the brief mysteries of ecarte, and the chevalier, seeing a 
 young lady who evidently wished to tell him all her secrets, glided 
 forward and seated himself in a chair by her side. Mr. de Luna- 
 tico's peculiar powers had, of course, their effects in this instimce, aa 
 
232 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 in all others ; and though, according to the general rule of woman, his 
 fair companion looked as cheerful and as gay as possible, her words 
 were all sad ; speaking of disappointed hopes, and ill-requited affection. 
 It was, in fact, to alter a little the words of good Tirso de Molina, 
 
 ** En los ojos su mentira 
 En los Jabios su verdad." 
 
 After listening, and giving such comfort as he was capable of, the 
 chevalier again turned to look after Mr. Jones, and now saw him 
 seated at the table, with the cards in his hand. Mr. de Lunatico 
 approached, and ensconcing himself in a corner, watched him while he 
 played game after game, betting bet after bet, and saw him lose, by 
 the time the company began to think of the supper-table, the amount 
 of some ten or twelve guineas. He then rose, with a face a little 
 anxious, and eyes somewhat haggard, or — if in such a grave work as 
 this, we may venture to coin a word — we will say, somewhat Laputan, 
 for their sight seemed turned inward, and one might feel sure, from 
 the expression which they bore, that he saw not one single object in 
 the whole room around him. The chevalier proved a " flapper," by 
 stepping up to him at once ; and the moment he did so, Mr. Jones 
 attempted to laugh cheerfully, saying, in an easy tone, " Ay,, my dear 
 chevalier, you see I could not resist." 
 
 " I see, I see," replied the chevalier, " but allow me, my dear friend, 
 to give you this little note of invitation. In my country, every other 
 mansion is a gambling-house ; where there are two tables in a dwelling, 
 one is always a card-table ; and where there is but one, it serves for 
 that purpose likewise. We have the ace of spades upon most of our 
 dinner-plates, our tea-spoons are formed in the shape of a heart, our 
 knives are all pointed like a diamond, and our walking-sticks have a 
 club at the top. Pray come, pray come, it's the very country for you : 
 you will be boarded and lodged, free of expense ; will have an oppor- 
 tunity of utterly ruining yourself, and beggaring your family, in a 
 fortnight ; and every inn-keeper has a brace of pistols always ready 
 loaded for his guests, when they can make no further use of their 
 brains, to blow them out." 
 
 The reverend gentleman looked ruefully in the face of Mr. de 
 Lunatico, and then said, " I shall have to give up my living." 
 
 " The sooner you give it up the better," replied the chevalier, and 
 turned towards one of the open windows, at which a group of ladies 
 and gentlemen were standing. It was probably the intention of the 
 chevalier to address to them one of those sweet and courtly speeches 
 which always had so great an effect upon his hearers ; but just as he 
 was about to open his mouth, a loud shrill voice came in at the window 
 from the lawn on the outside, echoing round and round the room, and 
 making every one start. 
 
 " Ah mon Dieu P cried the voice, ^^je suis attrappe ; I am trapped ; 
 I am caught by one leg through a damn iron thing. Au secours I au 
 secours ! Help me ! help me ! or by gar, I break me the jamhe /" 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 233 
 
 The chevalier recognised the voice of Mademoiselle Brochet ; Worrel 
 did so likewise ; and both rushed out at once into an open verandah, 
 from which a set of light stone steps led down into the lawns and 
 shrubberies surrounding the house. What they found there, reader, 
 you shaU know hereafter, if you have time and patience to accompany 
 the writer a little farther on his way. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 WHICH SHOWS HOW THE VISCOUNT WAS SEIZED WITH A PROPENSITY WHICH HE HAD 
 
 FORSWORN HOW JERRT TRIPE DISARMED HIS WRATH THE HORRORS OF A 
 
 butler's dream A GHOST -TRAP AND WHAT WAS IN IT. 
 
 " By jingo, Tom," cried the viscount, still lying upon the fat 
 stomach whereon he had fallen under the impetuous attack of the 
 female rebels — " this is too bad ! isn't it ?" 
 
 Tom Hamilton raised himself from his knees, and like a water- 
 dog rising from the wave, which shakes itself clear of all the cumbrous 
 moisture before it says any thing to any body, he cast off, with an 
 angry quiver of his limbs, the caps, and handkerchiefs, and stockings, 
 which had been piled upon him, before he replied to the viscount's 
 question. " Too bad, indeed," he then exclaimed, " too bad indeed !" 
 but as his eyes fell upon the viscount, and he beheld him looking like 
 a fat turtle in a basket of dirty clothes, the sight was too ridiculous 
 to be resisted, and Tom Hamilton laughed outright. 
 
 " Help me up, Tom, help me up," cried the viscoxmt, feeling an incli- 
 nation to cachinnate also, and suspecting that he might die of apoplexy 
 if he attempted it with his stomach on the ground. " Ha, ha, ha ! it's 
 too bad, though. Ha, ha, ha ! You may laugh, but, by jingo, it's too 
 bad ! Ha, ha, ha ! — I'll flog 'em all !— Ha, ha, ha ! Help me up, 
 Tom, or I shall burst." 
 
 " Pray don't, my lord," cried Tom Hamilton, " for that would be 
 the consummation of all the absurdities of this morning. To see your 
 lordship lying there amongst the dirty clothes, like an over-ripe 
 red gooseberry, is enough, in all conscience ; but if you were to burst 
 — to crack in the rind, it would be the death of me." 
 
 " Help me up — help me up," cried the peer, catching hold of his 
 friend's two hands. " Tom, you are as bad as the rest ; but I'll flog 
 *em — I'll flog 'em 1" and out he rushed after the maids before Tom 
 Hamilton could stop him to remonstrate. 
 
 Darting along the passage, he seized a huge hunting-whip that hung 
 over the antlers of a stag in the hall, and catching sight of a petticoat 
 
234 THE COMMISSIOXEB ; OR, 
 
 flying around the balustrade at the top of the staircase, he rushed up 
 and gave chase into the picture-gallery, making his whip crack ^ith 
 all the skill and vigour of a French postillion. The maids, for there 
 were three of them before him, scudded along through a part of the 
 house with which they were but little acquainted, tried this door and 
 that, and at each that they found locked gave a loud scream, and ran 
 on to another. The ruthless viscount pursued, panting, and blowing, 
 and determined upon vengeance : when, lo ! his three victims were 
 stopped at the farther door of all, which was usually open, and which 
 had been left so by Joey Pike, but which was now, strange to say, 
 locked on the other side. 
 
 " Now I've got them !" cried the peer ; " now Fve got them. You 
 jades, you shall smart for it, by jingo!'* 
 
 But at that moment, just as he had reached the often-mentioned 
 picture, the door behind the women opened, and Jerry Tripe, rushing 
 in, fell on both his knees at the viscount's feet, while, with his right 
 hand extended tragically, he pointed to the sweet countenance of his 
 lord's dead sister, exclaiming, " Forbear, my lord, forbear !" and the 
 large point of his nose became of a tenfold deeper red with emotion. 
 " Forbear, my lord," he cried ; " did you not vow at her death you 
 would never horsewhip a woman again ? and if the ghost is all you 
 want, the ghost you shall have. Fve got the ghost shut up in my 
 pantry." 
 
 " The devil you have, Jerry !" exclaimed the peer, letting the horse- 
 whip fall from his hand in surprise. " The real ghost or the sham one ?" 
 
 " The real ghost, my lord," replied Jerry Tripe ; " the real ghost, as 
 
 I'm a living man. Listen, my lord Ah, Mr. Hamilton, you've just 
 
 come in time to hear. If you dare face the ghost, you may now do it : 
 I have got her locked up in my pantry, like a rat in a rat-trap." 
 
 " Come, let us hear — ^let us hear, Jerry ?" cried the peer. What the 
 devil shall we do with her? We must send for the parson of the 
 parish, to lay her. Why, Tom, you look pale ! Do I look white, 
 Jerry ? Sit down, Tom Hamilton, sit down : Jerry Tripe, your knees 
 are shaking; sit down — sit down:" and down the peer cast himself 
 into one of the great arm-chairs between the pictures, prepared for a 
 gossip with Jerry Tripe, which was one of his ordinary enjoyments of 
 a morning; and, to say truth, Jerry Tripe on such occasions 
 often thought, with Mephistophiles — 
 
 " Es ist gar hiibsch von einem grossen herrn 
 So menschlich mit dein Teufel selbst zu sprechen." 
 
 "Well, Jerry, begin— begin !'* cried the peer. "By jinffo, Tom, 
 that's fimny, isn't it?" J J b » f 
 
 " It's nonsense, my lord," replied Tom Hamilton, in a serious tone. 
 " I have told you what I saw, and I'll answer for it no locks nor bolts 
 will keep that ghost in. He may have got the other one very likely, 
 and that will be quite enough for our purpose, for I rather suspect 
 that you would not particularly like to see the real one. 1 have 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUlRENnO. 235 
 
 had quite enough of it, I can assure you ; and if I guess rightly, Jerry 
 might as little like a conversation with her as any one.'* 
 
 " I declare," said Jerry Tripe, " IVe been in such a flutter all the 
 morning ever since, that I have not known what to do. I did not like to 
 tell my lord, for fear of spoiling his breakfast ; and I would not go into 
 the pantry alone for the world. But there she is fast : for after I had 
 run away to the boy's room, and got on my breeches and coat which he 
 had away to brush, and had taken breath and a glass of brandy, I 
 went back and listened at the end of the passage, and I heard her move 
 and rattle the things about, I'll swear." 
 
 " Nonsense I" cried Tom Hamilton. 
 
 " Well, well ; tell us how it all happened, and what brought her 
 there ?" cried the viscount. 
 
 " What brought her there !" exclaimed Jerry Tripe ; " what brought 
 her there ! There was good enough reason for her coming : why I 
 had just written the letter you know of, my lord — the letter you told 
 Die to write ; and she came to see what it was all about " 
 
 The peer put his finger upon his nose, and gave a long low whistle 
 — a sort of boatswain's whistle to call up prudence ; and Jerry Tripe 
 continued — 
 
 " I'll tell you how it was, my lord. I was lying sound asleep on my 
 back, between three and four o'clock this morning, just when it was 
 growing a sort of grey daylight, and I dreamt a very terrible dream. 
 I dreamt I was drunk " 
 
 " Are you sure it was a dream, Jerry ?** said Tom Hamilton. 
 
 But Jerry went on without minding him. " I dreamt I was drunk ; 
 — not very drunk, you know, my lord ; not so as to make one hold on 
 by the floor, nor even to take the strength out of one's knees, nor to 
 hiccup, nor any thing of that kind ; but just comfortable, when a man 
 feels a sort of mistiness about his notions, and thinks himself a very 
 great man indeed, and tells other people what a fine fellow he is. 
 Well, I was in this way, I thought ; and somebody who was there — I 
 don't well know who it was — said to me, * Jerry, this is poor stuff.' 
 So I dreamt that I said, * Poor stuff! why you don't expect it should 
 be my lord's own particular ? However, to finish this night jollily, I 
 will draw you this great black jug, which holds well nigh a gallon, out 
 of the very best pipe in the cellar.' So then I thought I took the jug, 
 and I went into the cellar — the cellar where the wine is in the wood, 
 my lord, and there I saw that somebody had been ticketing all the 
 barrels, and every one was marked in large letters, * not paid fob !' ** 
 
 " By jingo, they may well say that !" cried the peer. 
 
 " Every one was so ticketed," continued Jerry Tripe, " but a little 
 quarter cask in the corner of the ceUar, and that was marked *Anno 
 Domini 45,' and underneath was written, * The devil to pay, and no 
 pitch hot.* 
 
 " Well, my lord, I went to old Carbonell's fruity port, which we 
 haven't tasted this seven years, and drawing the jug full, I thought 
 I might as well taste it ; but I found that would never do, 'twas just as 
 rich and sweet as ever, so, sooner than waste it, I drank the jug off at 
 
236 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 two draughts ; and then I went to No. 2, and that tasted as sour as 
 verjuice after the other, and so I drank that jug off, but it cost me 
 three pulls at that ; and then I went to another, and there I did the 
 same, and another, and another, till my stomach began to get woundy 
 heavy, but, somehow, I couldn't leave off, do what I would ; and then 
 I got to the top tier, till I'd tapped three and thirty pipes of port, and 
 drank three and thirty jugs full. By that time I could scarcely waddle, 
 and I'd got to the end of the cellar ; but just then I dreamt I heard the 
 voice of some one calling out, 'Jerry, are you never coming back ? 
 why here's all the wine coming out at the door !' Upon that I looked 
 round, and saw that I had left all the taps running, and the wine by 
 this time was as high as my knees. Then the same person called out 
 
 again I don't know who it was — ' Why, you old fool, I will shut the 
 
 door and lock you in/ and I heard him jingle the great keys that were 
 hanging in the lock. So I shouted out again, * Hang me, if you shall 
 do that ! I shall be drowned — I shall be drowned !' and therewith I 
 made a fierce bolt at the door of the cellar, kicking along I don't know 
 how many empty bottles that were floating on the top of the wine. It 
 was a very terrible dream indeed; but just then I woke, and found 
 myself rushing out of the bed-room into the pantry, with nothing but 
 my shirt on. My head was in a terrible whiz, and I alnjost thought 
 myself dreaming still, for there, close beside me, stood the ghost, just 
 as I had seen her before. I was in a terrible fright, and didn't know 
 what to do ; but, however, on the spur of the occasion out I bolted, 
 banged to the door, and turned the key in the lock. I thought I 
 should have died upon the spot, for my heart was beating like a 
 hammer on an anvil. However, there the ghost is, safe ; she can't get 
 out, I'll defy her, for there are bars on all the windows, the door's 
 locked, and I've got the key in my pocket. So now, my lord, you can 
 say any thing to her that you like." 
 
 "I say, Tom," cried the peer, "you've heard about catching a 
 Tartar, haven't you ? I think she is more likely to say to me what I 
 don't like, than for me to say to her what I like. What's to be done 
 now, Tom, eh ?" 
 
 " Let us all go in a Dody," said Tom Hamilton, " if you're afraid to 
 go alone. But you see this must be all nonsense, my lord : if the ghost 
 is there, it is no ghost at all ; and if it is a ghost at all, it isn't there." 
 
 *' Well then, you shall go first, Tom Hamilton," cried the peer, " if 
 you're so sure of what you're about. Besides, the ghost has no ill will 
 to yjou ; whereas, I think, Jerry, that you and I might very well get a 
 cuff on the head, all things considered. Call up John and Peter; 
 and hang me if we shan't be a match for the ghost, any how." 
 
 Jerry Tripe did as his lord commanded, and in a few moments a 
 stout array of men servants were drawn up in the picture-gallery. 
 They made a sort of confused line, with the viscount and Tom 
 Hamilton standing in advance ; and as the peer proceeded to address 
 them in what the newspapers call a neat speech, the effect was very 
 much that of a chorus at the Italian opera, for from time to time his 
 assembled followers echoed his words, if not his sentiments 
 
.yAey C//z/y2<^9^' tyAaZciy?^. 
 
 vr- x^^' ^77i^z^/a 
 
 7c/zyy9za ayJ- /y/.a^'u 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIKENDO. 237 
 
 " Now, my lads," cried the viscount, " we are going to visit the 
 ghost " 
 
 " The ghost !" cried the chorus, a dioramic effect coming over their 
 countenances, and pallor succeeding rubicundity. 
 
 " So every one pluck up a good heart, and march after me like men ; 
 for, by jingo, I'll horsewhip every one who is in a funk " 
 
 " In a funk !" sighed the chorus. 
 
 ** You, Jerry, march at the head " 
 
 " At the head !" exclaimed Jerry, convulsively. 
 
 " At the head ! — at the head ! — at the head !" cried the chorus, each 
 one giving Jerry a push on the shoulder. 
 
 " You, John and Peter," proceeded the peer, " follow close." 
 
 " Follow close !" exclaimed John and Peter, putting their shoulders 
 together. 
 
 " And the grooms bring up the rear,*' said Lord Outrun. 
 
 " Bring up the rear 1" sang the chorus ; and his lordship, who was 
 not without a considerable portion of courage and resolution too in 
 moments of need, put himself on a line with Tom Hamilton, and led 
 the way, having first recovered his horsewhip, which was a sort of 
 talisman that had protected him all his life, and which he clung to with 
 Arabian devotion. 
 
 Proceeding by the smaller door at the end of the picture-gallery, 
 through the corridor, down the stairs, along the passage to the right, 
 round the corner of the china-room, past the wall of the house- 
 keeper's domicile, and along the side of the servants' hall — at which 
 particular spot the irritable nerves of the viscount were cast into a state 
 of agitation, by seeing a bevy of petticoats flying along before him, the 
 maids not at all comprehending why he was marching about the house 
 in procession — the Outrun phalanx turned up the long passage which 
 led to the temple of Jerry Tripe ; and with breath growing short, and 
 hearts beginning to palpitate, and limbs in some instances commencing 
 a shake, they saw the door of the fatal chamber before them. Tom 
 Hamilton himself began to feel queer; and as reason has no power 
 whatsoever over human emotions, it was all in vain that he reasoned 
 with himself upon substantiality and unsubstantiality. However, he 
 was not a man to show the white feather upon any occasion, and his 
 voice was as firm as a rock, when he asked, " Where's the key ?" 
 
 The face of Viscount Outrun by this time was like an old lady's 
 silk gown, purple embroidered on yellow ; and Jerry Tripe's nose was 
 like a cloud in the early dawTi, a rosy spot amidst a wide expanse of 
 grey. First in one breeches-pocket felt Jerry, then in another, then in 
 the right-hand coat-pocket, then in the left ; the key was, of course, in 
 the last place searched — 'tis always so, 'twill always be so to the end of 
 time. But no sooner did Tom Hamilton receive the implement of open- 
 ing, than forward he strode and applied it to the lock. It yielded to 
 his hand, the door gave way, was cast wide open, and they beheld 
 
 The table and the chair, the bottles and the glasses, a mouse scam- 
 pering off with a bit of cheese, and its long tail behind it ; but no 
 other living thing whatsoever. The door from the pantry into the bed 
 
238 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 room was open, and there was Jerry Tripe's bed exposed to view, with 
 one half of the bed-clothes cast upon the floor, as he had left them in 
 his violent exit Tlie whole of tlie interior was displayed, but not a 
 trace of any thing spiritual or corporeal, except the brandy-bottle, was 
 to be seen. The peer and his gallant forces approached, but found 
 the citadel abandoned ; every hole and corner was searched, but no- 
 thing was found. The peer looked at Tom Hamilton, and Tom 
 Hamilton looked at the peer ; the grooms gazed at the footmen, and 
 the footmen gazed at the grooms. 
 
 But what was Jerry Tripe doing ? How was the great Jerry occupied? 
 He was staring, with a look of profound consternation, at the table beside 
 which he had seen the ghost standing ; some mighty oppression seemed 
 to hang upon the spirits, some weight that kept down the buoyancy of 
 his fat heart. He seemed stupified, astounded, thunderstruck, and not 
 a word did he say for the full space of two minutes. He was aroused 
 at length by the voice of the peer — " Why, what's the matter, Jerry ?'* 
 cried Lord Outrun. " What the devil are you staring at ?" 
 
 " She has got it !'* exclaimed Jerry Tripe. " She has got it ! That's 
 what she wanted, and she has got it !" 
 
 " What ?" exclaimed the peer. " What the devil has she got ? 
 
 " The letter," said Jerry, in a low and solemn tone, " the letter to 
 widow Scapulary." 
 
 The peer looked thunderstruck, and Tom Hamilton mused pro- 
 foundly. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 THE AUTHOR DESCANTS, AND SADLY ABUSES THE PATIENCE OF THE READEB HB 
 
 RETURNS, "a SES PREMIERS AMOURS " AN UNPLEASANT PREDICAMENT FOB A 
 
 YOUNtt LADV JOEY PIKB HIMSELF CONFOUNDED — THE MOUSE AND THE LION. 
 
 No man is to be entrusted with power, for the nature of man is to 
 abuse it. This is the reason why so much greater a portion of liberty 
 exists under a despotic than under a democratic form of govern- 
 ment. Under a democracy all the engines, means, and appliances of 
 tyranny are extended to their utmost limit; and tyranny being an entity 
 which does not lose strength by diffusion, or loses it in a very small 
 degree, the division of power only produces a multiplication of tyrants, 
 while their union in a democratic form of government enables them, at 
 will, to combine their tyrannies on any particular object, so as to render 
 the operation ten times more intense than it ever can be when lodged in 
 the hands of a single individuaL You may stare, reader, but it is all very 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 239 
 
 true I can assure you, and if you want an exemplification of it you have 
 nothing to do but to look to France, where the tyranny of the multitude 
 is even now being exercised — it matters not what devil is at the bottom 
 of it, pride, vanity, or avarice — where the tyranny of the multitude, I 
 say, is being exercised upon kings and statesmen, compelling them to 
 violate the dictates of their own consciences, the strongest moral obli- 
 gations, and the laws of justice, religion, and honour — for what? For 
 the purpose of frustrating the efforts which men have been 
 making for more than half a century to abolish slavery, and put 
 down the hellish infamy of a traffic in human flesh. Long live demo- 
 cracy and democratic forms, we have now seen the experiment tried in 
 almost every different shape, and we have never seen it produce aught 
 else but a political fever, the hot fit of anarchy, succeeded by the cold 
 fit of apathy, followed generally by a sweat of blood, and the whole, at 
 each fresh paroxysm, destroying the strength of the patient — moral, 
 commercial, political — and tending to the utter dissolution of social life. 
 
 Human nature is not to be trusted with power, and the fewer hands 
 you place it in the better, for the fewer tyrants will you create by its 
 use. The only approximation that ever could be made towards good 
 government, in which the people's voice might have a share, would 
 be where the monarch was purely absolute within certain limits, and the 
 law purely absolute and immutable beyond those limits — the law 
 enacted by the whole people once for all — a power in the monarch to 
 punish the people for a violation of the law, and a power in the people 
 to pimish the monarch if he infringed it. It is certainly a Utopian 
 dream which can never be realized ; but so long as law and government 
 are continually subject to the fiddling alterations of the ignorant, the 
 vain, and the interested — so long as the passions of the people rather 
 than their reason are represented in parliament, and each man's selfish- 
 ness and folly finds a voice in the state — so long will the government 
 be the mere object of party strife, the good of the people the last object 
 sought for, each measure proposed be carried or frustrated by self- 
 interest, and justice and right, however well distributed between man and 
 man, be totally forgotten where the state is concerned — so long will 
 corruption putrify at the base of the representative system, a man's con- 
 science be sold like the carcase of a sheep, and, as the crowning infamy 
 of all, a seat in the legislature be worth a couple of thousand pounds. 
 Oh, that dark and horrible blot upon English history, that irrefutable 
 libel upon our national honour and virtue, that dark and damning stain 
 upon our name for ever, that no man can hope to be returned by the 
 pure suffrages of his fellow-countrymen without opening his purse or 
 flattering their passions. We are a nation of shopkeepers indeed, when 
 even our consciences are exposed for sale ! 
 
 No man is to be entrusted with power, for the very fact of possessing it 
 begets an inclination to abuse it ; ay, and even the author who has got an 
 unfortunate reader under his clutches, feels the strongest possible dispo- 
 sition to torment him even to the verge of resistance. With all the mate- 
 rials of the Chevalier de Lunatico under our hands, you cannot tell, reader, 
 how we are tempted to take you away bodily and put you upon the tread- 
 mill of new scenes and new characters altogether, to rack you with impa- 
 
240 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 tience to know what became of Laura and Joey Pike, to leave you in 
 ignorance of what was the call upon Mr. Longshanks, and to keep you 
 in suspense as to the voice from the garden. But no ! on account and 
 in consideration of the dissertation which we have inflicted on you con- 
 cerning good government, in not one word of which do we expect you 
 to agree, we will be merciful and forgive you the rest, though you are 
 in our power and have never offended us. But the question is, which 
 of the three threads of our story shall we follow ? We are, it is true, 
 like rope-makers, twisting them all into one as busily as possible, but 
 still they are separate at present, and which shall we deal with first ? 
 It ought to be the doctor, I fear — he is the person of most importance ; 
 and yet it is necessary to bring all our characters up to the same point 
 of time, and therefore, notwithstanding his gravity ^nd wisdom, we will 
 leave Mr. Longshanks whipping his beast along the road, and pursue 
 the momentous history of Laura Longmore and Mademoiselle Brochet, 
 as they are nearly six-and-thirty hours behind the rest of the characters. 
 
 The reader is well aware, from the account we have given of Jerry 
 Tripe's dream and its results, that the worthy butler, issuing forth in a 
 state of picturesque dishabille, was suddenly struck and astounded by 
 the sight of Laura Longmore standing at the table in his pantry. With 
 the person of the young lady he was not particularly well acquainted, 
 having only seen her once since she was a mere child, which was on the 
 memorable night of the fire. He might, however, have recollected her 
 had he seen her in her own dress, in the full light, and in his full senses. 
 But in the first place Laura was dressed in habiliments that Jerry Tripe 
 could not have supposed her to have procured ; in the next place, the 
 light was dull, and coming in from behind her ; in the third place, Jerry 
 Tripe's brain was in a whirl which left no object round him very dis- 
 tinct ; and lastly, by the impulse of the moment Laura drew the hood 
 of the mantilla completely over her head and face. Jerry neither 
 stopped to clear his eyes, nor asked any questions, neither did he turn 
 his head to the right or the left to look for Joey Pike behind the door ; 
 but out he went like a shot out of a cannon's mouth, and, to speak the 
 truth, the impulse which made him bang to the door was like many ano- 
 ther successful movement made by a retreating army, more the effect 
 of fear than strategy. 
 
 What was the consternation of Laura, however, when she saw 
 the door shut, and heard the key turn. It was a terrible moment ; 
 all sorts of apprehensions and anxieties attacked her at once, all 
 possibility of escape seemed at an end, the rest of the servants would 
 be soon roused, the peer himself would soon be informed of the fact, 
 she would be caught locked up in the butler's pantry with a man dressed 
 up as a woman — she felt keenly what a story might be made out against 
 her, and a strong inclination to cry bitterly came upon her. Joey Pike 
 himself was a little disconcerted. For once — for the only time in his life 
 —he felt like a fish out of water ; but the weakness passed away in an 
 instant. The conscious resources of genius, the power of triumphing 
 over fate and circumstances, the sight of Laura's tears, the spirit of chi- 
 valry, the moral dignity of high and virtuous purposes, soon restored 
 him to his self-possession — and Joey was himself again ! 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIIiENDO. 241 
 
 " Do not fear, Miss Laura," he exclaimed ; " soyez tranquilly, we 
 will find some means of escape ; ay, and even should the viscount, the 
 Bear of Outrun Castle as the people call him, present himself before we 
 camfugir, I will confront him — I will tell a petit mot. But what should 
 prevent us," he continued, stretching out his left arm to the full towards 
 the window, and bringing his right across his breast so as to point in 
 the same direction — " but what should prevent us from taking advan- 
 tage of the fenaitre ? We are upon the ray de chaiLssie" 
 
 " But the bars, the bars !" said Laura, in a despairing tone. 
 
 " Ha, the bars !" cried Joey Pike ; " noiis sommes grilles. But 
 let us see, perhaps we can remove the bars :" and mounting upon the 
 table, Joey threw open the window and tried the iron grating which 
 defended the sanctuary of Jerry Tripe. He gave it a good hearty 
 shake, he pulled, he pushed, but he pulled and pushed in vain. Not 
 the slightest impression was made upon the stubborn metal, although 
 to encourage himself in the deed he sang, sotto voce, as he called it, 
 " Locks, bolts, and bars, fly asunder." Nothing flew asunder at all, and 
 Joey Pike descended to try another of his never-ending resources ; but 
 a man of genius unfortunately often finds himself cramped for want of 
 means, and such was the case with Joey Pike. He tried the other 
 window in the bed-room — it was as firm as the first ; he examined the 
 door — the lock resisted all his efforts. For an hour he devised schemes 
 and abandoned them, and Laura sat her down in a state of deep dejec- 
 tion, her only support under which was indignation at being placed in 
 such a situation in consequence of her unjust detention in Outrun 
 Castle. 
 
 " I will tell you what," exclaimed Joey at length, " when he comes 
 back I will frighten both him and his lord. I will expose this letter to 
 their eyes, I will claim my just rights, and see what they will have to 
 repondre** 
 
 Laura sighed, but made no answer ; and as the sweet breath of spring 
 came through the window which Joey Pike had left open, she longed 
 more and more for her liberty. At length, however, she said in a 
 low voice — 
 
 " Hark !" there is some one talking." 
 
 Joey instantly bounded upon the table like an antelope, and looked 
 out of the window, which, we should have explained to the reader, was 
 a high one. A moment after he descended, waving his hand gracefully, 
 and saying — 
 
 " Deux femmes de chamhre /" 
 
 " Let me see, let me see," exclaimed Laura, turning a wistful eye 
 from the window to the table, and not exactly liking to rise into such 
 an elevated position. Joey Pike, however, saw her difficulty in a mo- 
 ment, and seizing the table with one hand — he would not have touched 
 it with two for the world, for it would have put him in an ungraceful 
 attitude — he drew it back from the window, and clasping the back of 
 a chair with his sinister digits, he pushed it forward into such a position 
 that Laura could mount and look out without showing her ancles. 
 
 " I think," said our pretty little friend as she ascended, " that if either 
 of the maids who wait upon me is there, she will let me out." 
 
 C. — NO. VIII. R 
 
242 THE COMMISSIONER; OR, 
 
 " Secooro ! secooro /'* said Joey Pike, " non e possihily resistar" 
 
 At the moment that Laura put her face to the grating, the poor girl 
 Jane — who was a very good girl upon the whole, notwithstanding a few 
 peccadilloes, as weak as water it is true, but all made of emotions, ten- 
 dernesses, and affections, and possessing enough of such commodities 
 to have supplied a great portion of the peerage, where, as the reader well 
 knows, there is some lack of them — The poor girl Jane, I say, after 
 having enjoyed a gossip of three minutes and three-quarters with her 
 friend Sally, who had just called her a fool for something she had said, 
 and walked away — The poor girl Jane — I shall never get to the end of 
 the sentence, I do believe ; you do not know, dear reader, how difficult 
 it is to finish a period when a thousand little adjuncts and parenthetical 
 appendices will come poking their snug snouts in, deranging all your 
 figures of rhetoric, like pigs grubbing up a flower-garden — The poor 
 girl Jane, I say, for the fifth time — and now I am determined to go on, 
 and not suffer myself to be seduced away continually from the main 
 subject — The poor girl Jane, then, having finished her gossip with Sally, 
 was walking along within a yard of the spot where Laura stood. 
 
 " Jane, Jane," cried Laura. 
 
 The upper housemaid started, and had well nigh shrieked aloud, for 
 her nerves were in such a state of excitement that the slightest unexpected 
 sound seemed like the voice of her great grandmother calling to her out 
 of the grave. When she turned round, however, and saw Laura's face, 
 which the reader must remember had been washed of the blue and white 
 paint, with the hood now thrown back so as to expose her whole head 
 with its rich brown tresses, she contented herself with exclaiming — 
 
 *' Good gracious me 1" 
 
 "Come closer, come closer," said Laura in an under- voice; and 
 Jane approached, observing — 
 
 " Lord, miss, who would have thought to see you in Jerry Tripe's 
 pantry ?" 
 
 " He has locked me in," said Laura — " he has locked me in while I 
 was trying to make my escape. Pray do let me out, and I will go back 
 again to my own room indeed." 
 
 Jane paused and gazed in her face with a bewildered look ; but sud- 
 denly a glance of intelligence, ay, and of satisfaction, came up in the 
 poor girl's countenance, and she exclaimed — 
 
 "Trying to make your escape? Go back again to your room? 
 Then you don't want to stay here and marry Mr. Fitzurse ?" 
 
 " Marry Mr. Fitzurse ?" cried Laura. " Why I abhor him." 
 
 Jane tossed her head with a little look of indignation, for her feel- 
 ings upon the subject were very different from Laura's ; but the young 
 lady continued in the same tone — 
 
 " Stay here ? I would give five hundred pounds to get away I** 
 
 " Stop, stop," said Jane, " I will let you out. We must make haste, 
 we must make haste — I saw the old sot's face a minute ago up at the 
 window of the lad's room shaving himself. I'll go round and let you 
 out.'* 
 
 But, alas, when Jane came and put her hand upon the lock, the key 
 was not in it ! A momentary pause of be^^ ilderment and uncertainty 
 
DE LIINATICO INQUIREXDO. 243 
 
 took place. Nobody said a word either on the one side of the door or 
 the other. But at length Jane put her mouth to the key-hole and 
 Avhispered — 
 
 " Stay a minute, the boy's got his coat to brush in the knife-house, 
 perhaps the key's in that ;" and away she ran as hard as she could go. 
 
 Composing her face before she entered the knife-house, and with her 
 wits all quickened by the influence of various passions, Jane walked 
 quietly in, and found the lad of sixteen who did every thing for every 
 body in the house, carefully brushing the best small-clothes of Jerry 
 Tripe, and whistling as happily as if he had nothing to do in the world. 
 
 " I say. Jack," cried Jane, "I wish you'd go and get me a pitcher 
 of water from the park well — there's a good soul." 
 
 " That I will, Miss Jane," replied the boy, who had a great respect 
 for prettiness, and wished he was a butler for Jane's sake. " Just let 
 me brush these out, and take them up to Mr. Tripe, and I will go for 
 it in a minute." 
 
 "Oh, he doesn't want them directly," answered Jane; "you know he's 
 always an hour shaving, for fear of cutting off the warts upon his face." 
 
 " He's up in my room shaving to-day," said the boy, looking in Jane's 
 pretty face with tender admiration. 
 
 " Well, well," cried Jane, " run, there's a good fellow, and I'll brush 
 the coat for you in the meanwhile." 
 
 " You can send up the girl with them when they're ready," said the 
 lad, " and then he won't grumble." 
 
 Away went Jack as soon as he had uttered these words, and the mo- 
 ment his back was turned, in went Jane's hand into the two pockets of 
 Mr. Tripe's coat, one after the other. No key was there. One chance 
 remained — there lay the small-clothes. Jane touched them with reve- 
 rence, and had just ascertained that there was something heavy in the 
 right-hand pocket, when she heard a step. Casting down the small- 
 clothes, she seized the brush and began upon the coat as if she would 
 have torn it all to pieces. 
 
 " Where's the pitcher, Jane ?" said the boy putting in his head. 
 
 " In my closet. Jack, in my closet," replied Jane, brushing away 
 with great trepidation ; " you know, my lord always will have the park- 
 well water, and the herd has forgotten to bring it this morning." 
 
 " I'll fetch it, I'll fetch it," replied Jack ; and the next minute Jane 
 heard him whistling along across the court to the place of his desti- 
 nation. 
 
 That instant she grasped the breeches, she felt in the pocket, she 
 produced the key, and with an hysterical laugh of joy and satisfaction 
 she darted away to the pantry, unlocked the door, and cried — 
 
 " Come out, miss, come out, be quick." 
 
 When her eyes fell upon Mademoiselle Brochet, however, for an 
 instant poor Jane was like to drop. Laura, without being at all aware 
 that there was any skilfulness in the manoeuvre, had entered into no 
 long explanations in her conversation with the maid from the window, 
 in regard to her having a companion in imprisonment, and Jane looked 
 almost as reproachfully at her as if she had taken her in. But the cap' 
 tive set free paid little attention to her deliverer's looks, exclaiming — 
 
244 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 " Now, now, which way can we escape ?" 
 
 " Good gracious 1" cried Jane, " what's to be done ? I thought 
 there was only you, miss, and now there's two instead of one. Escape ? 
 Why you'll be caught to a certainty if you attempt to escape just 
 now. The people are getting all about the place. What's to be done 
 I wonder ? Well, well, I must lock the door and put the key back at 
 all events, or we shall all be found out. Run you into the housekeeper's 
 room, and lock yourselves in. She won't be down for an hour, and I'll 
 come back directly. It is just up the passage, and then " 
 
 " I know the way, I know the way," cried Joey Pike. " Siveevy 
 moh Ma'amselle Laure, Sweevy moh sweevy moi" 
 
 Jane closed the door as soon as they were gone, rushed back to the 
 knife-house, placed the key in one of Jerry Tripe's pockets, only mis- 
 taking the coat for the breeches, sent the clothes up to their owner by 
 " the girl ;" and then gently insinuated her thumb between her front 
 teeth and gave it a contemplative bite. Jane fancied that she was 
 devising a plan for Laura's escape ; but she made a mistake, as her 
 first words will show. 
 
 " How did she come to know the way to the housekeeper's room so 
 well ?" said Jane. " I should not wonder if this was another of his ladies :" 
 and away she went, with strong misgivings as to the reputation of 
 Mademoiselle Brochet, and to some connexion between her and Mr. 
 Fitzurse. 
 
 Two light taps and a whisper at the door of the housekeeper's 
 room gained her admission, and Jane went to work more scientifically 
 than might have been expected. Addressing herself at once to Laura, 
 she said, " I am very willing to do all I can to help you, ma'am ; but I 
 can't let this young person go, for I don't know who she is." 
 
 Laura looked at Joey Pike with all the merry spirit that lit her eyes 
 in days of old shining up in them again. " I see you have doubts, 
 Jane," she said; "but I can assure you she is not a bad young 
 woman at all." 
 
 " Well, I can't let her go, Miss Longmore," replied Jane ; " and I 
 won't." 
 
 " You won't, mon cher Jane ?" cried Mademoiselle Brochet, sailing 
 up to her. " Oh, yes, you will : you be very good-natured creature, I 
 is quite sure. You will let me go — dat's a good girl." 
 
 " Keep your distance, ma'am, if you please," cried Jane. " I won't, 
 that's positive ; and if you attempt to go, I'll scream, and then it's all 
 up with you." 
 
 " Oh, yes you will !" cried Mademoiselle Brochet: "let me give you 
 one leetel pretty kiss off the cheek." 
 
 " Why, goodness gracious !" cried Jane ; " my stars ! — If I don't 
 believe Yes, it is ! — It's Joey Pike !" 
 
 " Ay, you sweet creature now," cried Joey, " you would not betray 
 your humble adorer and fellow-townsman — you would not denoncer 
 me?" 
 
 " No, that I wouldn't, Joey," replied Jane : " I'm sure you're as 
 innocent as a new-born babe." 
 
 « Not quite, Janey," replied Joey Pike ; " but not quite a rouey 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 245 
 
 either : and as for this matter of old Seapulary, I would not have hurt 
 a hair of the old man's head — no, not for a kingdom." 
 
 " I don't think you would," said Jane from the bottom of her heart ; 
 " for you were always as good-natured a soul as ever lived. So you 
 may go when you like ; now I know who you are, I don't care.'* 
 
 " I dare say you don't,'* said Joey Pike, with a shrewd wink of the 
 eye, which made the colour come up into Jane's face ; " but Miss 
 Laura must go with me." 
 
 " She'll be stopped to a certainty, if she attempts it," replied Jane. 
 " It will be a great deal better for her to stay here one day more, and 
 get away just after dusk to-night. I will contrive to bring her out of 
 the house, and part of the way across the park, by the village path, if 
 you will meet us, Joey." 
 
 " I will do my impossible," answered Joey Pike ; " and I think it will 
 be the best plan too. As for me, je m^en vats ; and if I meet Jerry 
 himself, he dare not stop me pour tout le monde. Mademoiselle 
 Laure, baso las manos a listed. Janey, I salute you ; but mind you 
 keep your word, for if you don't we'll raise the country, and attack 
 the house." 
 
 Thus saying, Joey Pike departed; and Laura, after a short con- 
 ference with her new friend, was guided back by the most silent and 
 secret ways to her former chamber. 
 
 Thus do all the miracles of ordinary life disappear, when they come 
 to be investigated ; and thus do a number of wiseacres attempt to 
 explain away the miracles recorded in Scripture, though they are only told 
 us because they were miracles, and because the end and object to be 
 obtained justified to the full the interposition of the Almighty power 
 in order to reverse the ordinary course of nature, and stamp certain 
 facts with Divine authority by displaying in them the hand of God 
 himself. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 A COOK 8 REVENGE THE EVILS OP SUSriCION AN EMPTX NEST AND A FLOWN 
 
 BIBD. 
 
 " I'll sarve him out," cried the cook, " I'll sarve him out 1" 
 
 And so she did ***t!***** 
 
 " I say, Tom," cried the peer, as they sat at luncheon, after having 
 eaten a very comfortable meal, "I think we must bury him to-morrow; 
 it don't do to have a ghost and a corpse in the house at the same time ; 
 besides, he must stink by this time, Tom. Don't you think so? lia!" 
 
246 THE COMxMiySlONER ; OR, 
 
 « I have not the slightest doubt of it, ray lord," rejilied Tom 
 Hamilton. " But how will you manage about the funeral ? all the 
 undertakers and people must know." 
 
 " Not they, not they," cried the peer. " By jingo, you're not half 
 so clever a fellow as I thought you. We have got the coffin in already, 
 man. Don't you see, when the fellow came to talk to me about the 
 matter, I laid my finger by the side of my nose, and looking wonder- 
 fully secret, I said that the peculiar and somewhat mysterious nature 
 of the verdict given by the coroner's jury, required very great pre- 
 cautions, and that therefore he must make me a coffin by guess without 
 seeing the body. So then I winked at him, and he winked me, and 
 then I slapped him on the back, and we parted, roaring with laughter ; 
 I laughing at him and all the world, and he laughing because I laughed, 
 and thinking me a very funny fellow." 
 
 " But, my dear lord," said Tom Hamilton, " you do not keep up 
 your character of a mourning father very well." 
 
 " Can't be helped, Tom, can't be helped," replied the peer ; " it's 
 the nature of some men ; it's their nature, I say, to laugh at the death 
 of their nearest relations in their sleeves, if not in their pocket hand- 
 kerchiefs. I dare say Freddy will do the same for me when my time 
 comes. But 'pon my soul, I must go and see this little girl that we 
 have got here. I have not visited the pretty prisoner for a long while, 
 and she'll think me uncivil ; and as Fredd}' is coming down to-morrow, 
 and nmst be introduced to her as his own cousin, we must smooth her 
 down a bit." 
 
 Tom Hamilton shook his head disapprovingly, but the peer exclaimed 
 with some heat — 
 
 " Stuff and nonsense, Tom ! By jingo, she shall marry him before 
 she quits this house. Why it's the only way of saving the estate, and 
 I've got her father's consent, you know\" 
 
 " Not to keeping her here, and marrying her against her will, I 
 should think," replied Tom Hamilton. 
 
 " It's all the same, it's all the same," cried the peer, rising and moving 
 towards the door. But before he reached it, he stopped, turned back, 
 and took half a tumbler-full of wine, saying — " Why, Tom, I feel very 
 queer at my stomach ! I am sickish — I am devilish sick — why, what's 
 come to me? — Why I never was sick in my life!" and down he sat in 
 a chair. 
 
 Tom Hamilton moved towards the cellaret, and brought out a bottle 
 of brandy. 
 
 " Curacoa, Tom," cried the viscount in a faint voice ; " cura9oa is 
 stronger." 
 
 Tom Hamilton moved back again, with a solemn step, and got the 
 curacoa. 
 
 " Why what the devil are you so long about ?" cried the peer ; " I 
 shall vomit before you come — what makes you so slow ?" 
 
 " Because I'm as sick as you are," answered Tom Hamilton, in a 
 dolorous tone. 
 
 " It's those beastly truffles," said the peer, looking at a dish that 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO/ 247 
 
 stood Upon the table : " they always do make me dream of paving- 
 stones, when I eat them." 
 
 " I don't know what it is," replied Tom Hamilton, setting down the 
 bottle, and making a quick march towards the door ; " I don't know 
 what it is, but I must go." 
 
 He came back in about five minutes, with a face very while, and 
 eyes very red, looking somewhat like a cockney young lady at the end 
 of a delightful aquatic excursion. 
 
 " I shall be better now," he said, filling himself out a wine-glassfull of 
 curagoa, the bottle containing which had suffered a considerable dimi- 
 nution in weight since last he handled it. 
 
 " I am a little better," rejoined the peer ; " give me a wine-glassfull 
 of the stuff", Tom." 
 
 " What ! haven't you had any ?" cried Tom Hamilton. 
 " Oh, yes, a tumbler-full," replied the peer ; " but it is no use doing 
 things by halves. Here, Jerry Tripe," he continued, as the butler at 
 that moment entered the room, " take away those cursed truffles, and 
 tell the cook not to send up any more. I am better now, Tom ; I 
 am a devilish deal better now; so I'll go and see pretty Laura 
 Longmore." 
 
 " Had you not better let me go, my lord ?" said Tom Hamilton ; 
 ** you want a little rest. What between ghosts and truffles, maids and 
 cura9oa, you've had rather an active day of it. I'll be your deputy, 
 with a great deal of pleasure." 
 
 "No, no, you dog," cried the peer; "what between your black 
 whiskers and your white face, you'd frighten her. Why, Tom, what's 
 come to you ? Take another glass of liqueur ; you look like a sick 
 sheep or a white-faced rook. No, my lad, no ; you were born for a 
 poacher, but you shan't fire a gun upon Freddy's manor at all events 
 till he's down here himself to look after the game." 
 
 Thus saying, the peer walked out of the room, and Tom Hamilton 
 set himself down to think for a moment, taking the peer's advice with 
 regard to the cura9oa. Now Tom Hamilton, with all his faults, was a 
 man of honour, and as some great philosophers have defined man to be 
 nothing but a receptacle for putting ideas into, in his case there were a 
 great many good things in the bottom of the bag, although there was 
 a good deal of rubbish at the top. It had never entered into the 
 imagination of Tom Hamilton hitherto that he might set Laura Long- 
 more free, deliver her from the Fitzurse faction, establish a claim upon 
 her gratitude, and perhaps carry off" a nice little rich wife, to the dis- 
 comfiture of his noble host, and the disappointment of his honourable 
 friend. But the peer did the most impolitic thing in the world ; he 
 put all this into Tom Hamilton's head in a minute. By suggesting to 
 the mind of any man, an evil action, whether we present it in the shape 
 of a suspicion of his intentions, or a temptation to his virtue, we plant 
 in his heart a seed which will germinate sooner than we generally 
 believe, which will shoot out roots almost impossible to be eradicated, 
 and which will always have the devil at hand to water it, and hoe it, 
 and dress it, and tend it, and plant a pea-stick for it to creep up till it 
 needs no farther attention. 
 
248 THE commissioner; or. 
 
 In a single minute Tom Hamilton's mind had clearly perceived that 
 it was almost an act of duty upon his part to assist in freeing 
 Laura Longmore— that she was unjustly detained— that he was 
 actually conniving at a very abominable transaction. In the next 
 place, his friend'' Fitzurse was under a very serious engagement 
 to poor little Jane, and therefore it was but just and right to 
 her to remove this temptation from his way. He had promised, 
 too, to do every thing in his power to induce Mr. Fitzurse to keep 
 his oaths and engagements, whether manuscript or vocal; and how 
 was this to be done without putting a bar between him and Laura 
 Longmore? She was pretty, very pretty, he had heard: the peer 
 had vowed that she had the neatest little foot and ankle in the 
 world, and had talked of the bare skin of her instep as if it had 
 been an oyster. Tom Hamilton was fond of pretty women — a hetle 
 too fond perhaps ; but he flattered himself that he would make a 
 very good husband notwithstanding ; and he was not mistaken. He 
 was a handsome fellow too, and an amusing one — of both which 
 points he was quite well aware ; and thus, all things considered, 
 Laura's good was as much consulted as that of any one. The 
 peer, too, might get himself into a desperate scrape if the thing 
 were to go on; and Fitzurse might get himself hanged, for Laura 
 was an heiress, and forced marriages with heiresses were in those 
 days somewhat severely dealt with. In fact, with a facility truly 
 wonderful every argument for using his advantages to the utmost 
 rose up in Tom Hamilton's mind ; and then, to conclude the whole, 
 came the thought of what a nice thing it is to marry an heiress. 
 The vision of a beautiful little curricle, with two bright thorough- 
 bred bays of about fifteen hands high, with a cross bar as bright 
 as a sunbeam, and a black and silver harness, whirling him through 
 the park, with a sweet girl with a lace veil by his side, presented 
 itself to Tom Hamilton's imagination ; and he was in the act of 
 asking himself what was to be done, when the voice of the viscount 
 at its very highest pitch came echoing through the whole house, 
 and reached the dining-room where Tom Hamilton was sitting. At 
 the same time the ringing of the state-room bell, as if its clapper 
 would have gone mad, was heard far and wide. 
 
 " Jerry ! Jane ! Sally ! John ! Peter 1 Tom ! Wilson !" shouted the 
 viscount. " Tom Hamilton ! Tom Hamilton ! Why, what the devil 
 is this ?" 
 
 Tom darted out through the dining-room doorway, up the stairs, 
 and into Laura's room as fast as he could go. The first object his 
 eyes lighted upon was the viscount in a state of absolute frenzy. He 
 had been somewhat irritable all day ; the scene with the maids had 
 not tranquillized him; the ghost had rather increased his rage; the 
 sickness had not pleased him, and the curagoa had not tended to calm. 
 His red nightcap — an object on which passions were apt to vent them- 
 selves — had been torn violently from his head and cast under his feet, 
 and he was now engaged in the pleasant and intellectual occupation of 
 stamping upon it vehemently, as if that was the only way to relieve 
 his mind. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 249 
 
 " Why, what's the matter, my lord ?" exclaimed Tom, as soon as he 
 beheld them. " Where is the youDg lady ?" 
 
 " She's gone, she's off, by jingo," cried the peer, " she's departed. 
 Hang me, if ever I saw such a thing in my life. Jerry, you scoundrel, 
 the girl's gone off. What the deuce is to be done now ? Jane, how 
 did this happen? Sally, have you had any hand in helping her? 
 Run, Peter, like lightning, you have the longest legs in the house, 
 and tell all the grooms and the coachman to saddle horses and to . 
 gallop like fury to the park gates, and to the stile near the village. 
 Keep watch, and let nobody pass that is not known. Who saw her 
 last ?" 
 
 " I did, I suppose, my lord," said Jane, " for I came to do the room 
 about twelve, after all that fuss was over." 
 
 " Ah ! you little jade," cried the peer, shaking his fist at her, " are 
 you sure she was here then ?" 
 
 " Quite sure, my lord," answered Jane, " for I saw her and talked 
 to her, and I locked the door after me quite carefully." 
 
 " Has any one else seen her ?" cried the peer. 
 
 " Yes, my lord, I saw her," said Sally, with her pert air. " I 
 saw her about half-past nine when I brought up the breakfast, and 
 had a long chat with her too, and she said to me, says she, * What 
 a great shame it is I should be kept here in this way ;' and so, says 
 I, < that it is, miss.' " 
 
 "D — ^n what you said!" cried the peer; "d — n what she said! 
 You said, and she said, and you talked like two great fools. 
 Have you seen her since, I say?" 
 
 « No, that I haven't," said Sally, " for I had enough to do 
 this morning with all the noise and the fuss that was made about 
 nothing at all. So Jane had to do this room while I did Mr. 
 Hamilton's." 
 
 " They will drive me mad amongst them,'* cried the peer. " Some 
 one must have let her out." 
 
 " Hallo !" cried Tom Hamilton, who had approached the window, 
 "here are the sheets tied together and fastened to the bar of the 
 window. She has let herself down! By Jove! I like that girl, 
 she is up to any thing! Come, come, my lord, don't fume and 
 fret; perhaps it's as well as it is. You know if you had forced 
 her to marry Fitzurse against her will they might have hanged you." 
 
 " Hanged me ?" cried the peer ; " I should like to see them." 
 
 " Feel them, you mean, my lord," said Tom Hamilton ; " few men 
 see themselves hanged. I never heard of any one but the looking- 
 glass maker, who fell in love with the reflection of himself, and com- 
 mitted suicide in the midst of his own shop." 
 
 " Tom, you're a noodle," cried the peer. " Let them bring me 
 out a horse, and bring Mr. Hamilton's too : we'll gallop over all the 
 country and see if we can catch her till dinner-time; if we can't, 
 we'll come back, eat our dinner, have a pot of caviare, a couple 
 of bottles of claret, and finish the night over such a bowl of punch 
 as will keep all the ghosts in Europe at a mile's distance for fear 
 of singeing their whiskers." 
 
250 THE COMMISSIONER ; OK, 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 MADEMOISELLE BBOCHET OBTAINS NEW LIGHTS— THE UNCONSCIOUS WITNESSES 
 
 THE REPOSE OF WIDOWHOOD DISTURBED THE RETALIATION THE SECRET? OF 
 
 THE BANDBOX IN DANGER LAURA FOUND AND LOST— ILL-REqUITED CHIVALRY. 
 
 Mademoiselle Brochet tripped out of the principal back door of 
 Outrun Castle with her usual elegant and graceful wriggle, not for- 
 getting her attitudes even though she turned to gaze around her 
 to ensure that none of the rude alguazils of the place were in pursuit 
 of her. Gradually, however, as she went on undisturbed, her mind 
 became more composed. She slackened her pace, which was at first 
 somewhat rapid ; when half across the park, she untied the strings of 
 her bonnet ; a little farther on, she stopped and tied her garter ; then 
 looked round with a timid and fluttered look, put her hand before her 
 face, and exclaimed — 
 
 " La ! suppose any body had seen me !" 
 
 Within the walls of Outrun Castle she had occasionally forgotten 
 herself, but now she was all Mademoiselle Brochet again from top 
 to toe. 
 
 " Dear me," she said, as she walked on, " it be very early. La Belle 
 Muggins will be shock at me staying out all de night — thfnk me 
 naughty gal — say I commit faux-pas. I wonder if dey be up yet ? 
 I tink I call upon la charmante Scapulaire. She early woman, Sca- 
 pulaire — she out very early dat mornin' to fetch her husband milk when 
 somebody come to hang him — vary agreeable dat, vary nice — not 
 pleasant be dere and see him hang — oh no, no ; but I do tink she 
 have fingare in de pye, and we find de gravy on it before we are 
 done." 
 
 Thus saying, she tripped on, crossed the stile, passed the pons Tripi, 
 and looked at the windows of Mrs. Scapulaire's cottage. The shutters 
 were shut, however, and Mademoiselle Brochet was directing her steps 
 onward towards the Half Moon, when the sounds of voices in the church- 
 yard arrested her attention and her steps at the same time. They were 
 the sweet sounds of merry voices in the sports of youth — the sounds 
 that come to every ear and every age with some bland and dear asso- 
 ciation — that call to fellow infancy to come and join the joyous game — 
 that in manhood wake parental tenderness and love, and the soft spirit 
 throned in the inmost heart for purposes the holiest and most bright ; 
 and in declining age rouse the memories of that early day when the 
 now setting sun of life first dawned in all her past-by splendour — the 
 sounds that to the calm and virtuous heart speak like the tongues of 
 angels from the skies, communing with the spirits of the pure below — 
 sounds that may call the worldly and the selfish away from their moral 
 dross to holier and to higher things, by the sole di^ ine feeling that 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 251 
 
 exists in every breast — the sounds that from the hard heart of guilt 
 itself may wring the tears of penitence, and give back the light of hope 
 by bringing back the feelings of a better time, arid proving virtue not 
 entirely dead — the voices of children at their play. 
 
 He heard them, and, light and wayward, vain and somewhat careless 
 as he was, the sounds were pleasant to his ear, stirring up deeper thoughts. 
 " Ay, I remember well the time," he said, " when I used to stop upon 
 the church-yard path and play at marbles with my school-fellows, with 
 the graves all round us and the long grass waving green. Ay, I re- 
 member it well. Those were happy days. I Mill go and see what the 
 virchins are about." 
 
 Walking up gracefully to the church-yard stile Joey crossed it, and 
 then seated himself on the top bar, looking a somewhat disconsolate 
 damsel, it must be confessed, in his character of Mademoiselle Brochet. 
 About ten yards before him, on the broad gravel path formed of smooth, 
 well-beaten pebbles, was a group of four or five boys, some playing at 
 taw-in-the-ring, some looking on. There was laughing and there was 
 joking mixed up with two of the great ingredients of boy-life — teazing 
 and bullying ; and ever and anon there w^as a little bit of something which 
 approached to conversation. Joey Pike, unremarked, listened with 
 all his ears, longing to be a boy again, and — like Adam, just when he 
 was walking away from the gate of the garden of Eden, wishing with 
 all his heart that he had never tasted of the tree of knowledge — a 
 bitter and unwholesome fruit to most men, with a stone at the heart 
 of it. 
 
 " I am sure you never did, in all your life," said a boy of thirteen to 
 a boy of twelve. " Come, let us see you. If you did it before you can 
 do it now." 
 
 " No, I can't," replied the other boy ; " but I did do it, though. It 
 hit this one, and then that one, and then bounced off and knocked that 
 one out of the ring." 
 
 " It's a lie I'm sure," rejoined the other boy. " Why, I've been here 
 every morning, and I didn't see you, so I'm sure it's a lie." 
 
 " You might have seen me if you had liked," answered the other ; 
 " but you was up in the chesnut tree, for it was that day that old 
 Scap was murdered, and just when Tom Smalldram the tinman and 
 rabbit-seller was coming by." 
 
 " Ah, he gave it a kick, I dare say," said the boy, who was resolved 
 not to be convinced. 
 
 *' No, he didn't," replied another strippling of eleven or thereabouts, 
 "for he didn't come near us at all ; he turned off by old Mother Crump's 
 grave, and jumped over the wall at the corner there." 
 
 " Ah !" said Mademoiselle Brochet ; and after the conversation had 
 proceeded to two or three more attacks and rejoinders, she called to 
 her the lesser of the two disputants, saying — 
 
 " Come here. Master Jones. How do you do ? how do your 
 mother ?" 
 
 " Very well, thank ye, ma'am," said the boy, walking up shily and 
 making his bow. 
 
252 THE COMMISSIONEU ; OB, 
 
 *' So you know goot Meester Smalldram. He vary well, I hope ? 
 Wlien you see him last ?" 
 
 " I don't know, ma'am," replied the boy. " I see him that ere day as 
 old Scap were murdered. He come across here at a great rate." 
 
 " He very busy that morning, I dare say ?" replied Mademoiselle 
 Brochet. 
 
 "Why, I saw him come out of old Scap's house," rejoined the biggest 
 boy. " 1 dare say he was going to fetch a doctor. So mother said when 
 I told her. I was up in the horse-chesnut tree, getting down the 
 blossoms, and he came out and over the stile in a great hurry." 
 
 " Ay, you very nice boy, indeed," said Mademoiselle Brochet. 
 " What your name ?" 
 
 " I am Ned Bellasis, the blacksmith's son," replied the boy. 
 
 " And I'm Tommy Wilson," said the little one who had seen Master 
 Smalldram's saltation of the wall. 
 
 "Ah! all vary goot boys, indeed," said Mademoiselle Brochet, 
 putting her hand in her reticule, and bringing out a quantity of half- 
 pence. " There's someting for you to buy marble. Goot mornin', goot 
 mornin'. Share dem amongst you. Come, come, Meester Bellows-us, 
 you divide it fair. I vill not have you take treepence and give de leetle 
 boy one halfpenny a-piece." 
 
 Thus saying, she made the distribution herself; and then, re-crossing 
 the stile, advanced to the door of Mrs. Scapulary*8 house, which was 
 now open, as well as the windows. Mademoiselle Brochet was too well 
 acquainted with the character of the sort of person she represented 
 to affect the slightest delicacy in the world. She knew it was only 
 necessary to put on an air and a grace, and a look of perfect self- 
 satisfaction, in order to do the most impudent thing in Europe without 
 violating any of the unities ; and thus she sailed into the cottage of 
 Mrs. Scapulary with the sweetest and most benignant smile in the 
 world upon her countenance, seeming to think that her early visit was 
 conferring the greatest possible favour upon that excellent lady. Mrs. 
 Scapulary, however, did not think so at all, and looked as if she did 
 not think it, but Mademoiselle Brochet was cased in the armour of a 
 French waiting-maid, and it must be a sharp look, indeed, to pierce 
 through that panoply. 
 
 "Ah! Madame Scapulaire," she said, "how you do since yesterday? 
 I hope you was quite well." 
 
 Mrs. Scapulary said internally, " None the better for seeing of you j" 
 but the external woman only flounced, and she said — 
 
 " I'm well enough ; what should make me otherwise ?" 
 
 " Ah, you don't know," said Miss Brochet — " you don't know what 
 may be doing in de world to make you udderwise. Vary shocking, 
 vary shocking, indeed — terrible man, dat Smalldram — shocking man, 
 'pon my life !" 
 
 No cameleon ever turned half the colours that were displayed by 
 Mrs. Scapulary's countenance at that moment, but it ended in very 
 much the natural hue of the reptile aforesaid, namely, a dull, ashy 
 grey. Now, Mrs. Scapulary was not altogether a virtuous woman ; 
 
DK LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 253 
 
 she was not. as pure as a member of parliament ; she had not know- 
 ingly never committed " any corrupt practices ;" she had committed a 
 few peccadilloes — with all her wits about her and a great deal of good 
 fun she had got out of them ; and, as usual, the fears and apprehensions 
 of detection which lie watching for their prey by the side of the high- 
 road of wickedness had occasionally run after Mrs. Scapulary and 
 caught hold of her too. However, as every one knows, time and prac- 
 tice get rid of such apprehensions ; and before she had come down to 
 the village of Outrun she was pretty well clear of all fears concerning 
 ordinary sins and wickedness ; but there is a fact, which perhaps the 
 reader does not know, which is, that every fresh and unaccustomed 
 crime brings its own train of terrors along with it. You might have 
 talked of adultery, fraud, swindling, cheatery, for an hour in Mrs. 
 Scapulary's presence without making her fidget upon her chair ; but 
 she had lately entered upon a new line of business, and her conscience, 
 although it was a battered hack, which you might flog till you were 
 weary on most parts of the body, had a raw about the neck which 
 would not bear flipping. The very name of Mr. Smalldram and 
 wickedness instantly produced a palpitation of the heart and a tremulous 
 movement of the hands which was not unobserved by Miss Brochet. 
 The widow became civil in an instant ; she put a chair for mademoi- 
 selle ; she asked if she had breakfasted ; she begged she would take 
 a cup of tea with her; the water, she said, would boil in a few 
 minutes. 
 
 " I vill take von leetle cup of tea," said Mademoiselle Brochet ; " but 
 I tought it would just bepolis — vat you call polite, my dear — to come 
 and give you von leetle bit of warnin* dat Smalldram be von vary 
 wicked, ugly man, and let you take your measure accordingly. If 
 you marry Smalldram all peeple talk vary mush — he talk himself too 
 mush — As de lady say in de play widin de play, dat is in Hamlet, * None 
 wed de second but who kill de first.' Ah ! Smalldram, he be not von 
 man dat I would trust ; and den there be Joey Pike, beautiful Joey 
 Pike, he who loof you so mush, he break his heart if you marry 
 Smalldram." 
 
 " Lord ! Miss Broachey," cried Mrs. Scapulary, " what can you mean 
 about Joey Pike, and how can you know ?" 
 
 " Ah, Joey great friend of mine," replied Mademoiselle Brochet ; 
 " he be in service wid von gentleman while I was kept by anoder 
 gentleman and lady in Eetaly. How I know ? why all de peeple say 
 here he murder old Scap, as dey call him, all for loof of you." 
 
 "Oh, I'm sure he didn't murder him," said Mrs. Scapulary, who 
 had now made up her mind to her conduct, " at least I don't think 
 so now. I shouldn't wonder if Smalldram had, but that's between you 
 and I, Miss Broachey. I know he was about the place that morning, 
 for I saw him scuttling away just as I was coming back with the milk. 
 I'll go and tell the magistrates about it immediately after breakfast, and 
 then they can do as they like." 
 
 " It might be good," said Mademoiselle Brochet, thoughtfully ; 
 ** he just the man I should fancy to say you do it, if you don't say he." 
 
254 THE COMMfSSIONER ; OB, 
 
 " Say I did it !" exclaimed Mrs. Scapulary. " Lord, Miss Broachey I 
 That would be a lie indeed. Poor dear old man, to think that I would 
 strangle him !— I that had nursed him so tenderly !" 
 
 " Ah, vary wicked man, vary shocking wicked man indeed, dat 
 Smalldram," replied Mademoiselle Brochet ; " there be no knowing 
 what he say next ; but if I be you, Meestress Scapulaire, I would 
 do what your English Jack sailor call vork to vindvard of him, dat 
 I would." 
 
 "So I will," muttered Mrs. Scapulary to herself; "that's no bad 
 advice neither. Now, my dear, cut yourself some bread and butter, 
 and I'll make the tea. You've heard this wicked man say something, 
 I suppose ?" 
 
 " Oh no, not heard nothing," answered the French lady, "only just 
 de peeple say he have got great quantity of money just now — dat 
 he brag about his reeches, swear he marry you, and be vary reech man 
 indeed." 
 
 " Ay, indeed, he reckons without his host," said Mrs. Scapulary ; 
 " but I'll do what I have said, upon my honour." 
 
 " Veil, I tink you quite right," replied Mademoiselle Brochet ; " you 
 go tell magistrates dat he did it — make all de peeple believe you did 
 not do it yourself. Vary good plan, Meestress Scapulaire, vary good 
 plan indeed." 
 
 The conversation of Mademoiselle Brochet was decidedly painful to 
 Mrs. Scapulary. In the first place, she never clearly understood what 
 her fair companion was about; under her broken English came a 
 thousand unpleasant little inuendoes, which kept her in a high state of 
 uncomfortable excitement, and though she felt herself obliged to be 
 civil, yet, to say the truth, she wished the worthy French lady as far 
 at least as Hades. Mademoiselle Brochet understood the whole 
 business very well, and found a sort of malicious satisfaction in 
 teasing the fair widow. Thus she went on, rattling, laughing, talking, 
 drinking tea, eating bread and butter, and every now and then throwing 
 in some sly observation upon murder, manslaughter, gallows, execu- 
 tions, trials, and imprisonments, till poor Mrs. Scapulary went through 
 a thousand fevers with a shaking stage of fear and the hot stage of 
 anger, till at length, under the influence of the latter crisis, she said to 
 herself — 
 
 " Well, my pretty girl, I'll give you a bone to pick. Ay," she con- 
 tinued aloud, " they are terribly severe the people here ; take care they 
 don't catch hold of you, mademoiselle, for I think it's but friendly to 
 tell you that they're looking after you on account of the pocket-hand- 
 kerchiefs and lace you talked about. You shouldn't speak of such 
 things in every body's hearing, for the custom-house is very strict you 
 know, and they say you are nothing better than a smuggler ; so they 
 are going to have you up before the magistrates, examine your boxes, 
 and see what you've got in them." 
 
 Mademoiselle Brochet paid very little attention to the hint, for she 
 was fully persuaded that Mrs. Scapulary was telling a lie ; but when 
 she had taken leave of that lady, and had returned to her quarters at 
 
DK LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 255 
 
 the Half Moon, she was visited by Mrs. Muggins, who shut the door 
 with an air of some precaution, and exclaimed — 
 
 " Why, Joey, here has been Tillman the constable inquiring a good 
 deal about you and about your boxes. 
 
 Joey looked somewhat surprised and dismayed. 
 
 " I hope there's nothing in that bandbox of yours that you care 
 about," continued Mrs. Muggins. 
 
 " Alas ! there is, fair Muggins, alas ! there is," cried Joey, casting 
 himself into the attitude of profound despair. " If they have got that 
 box I am lost." 
 
 " Why, what in the name of fortune is in it ?" exclaimed the landlady 
 of the Half Moon. 
 
 " My breeches !" sighed Joey, with tears in his eyes, " my breeches !" 
 
 " Oh ! if that's all," said Mrs. Muggins, " there's no great harm 
 done ; every woman looks to M^ear them at one time of her Ufe. They 
 have not got the box, Joey ; but as it is smuggled goods I hear they 
 are after, if you'll just keep out of the way during the day I'll let them 
 take a peep into the box, and that will satisfy them, I dare say." 
 
 " An extremely good plan, helle Muggins," replied Mademoiselle 
 Brochet; "so I will just go out the back way through the garden, 
 cross the meadow and the orchard, and then round into the lane 
 again. I will find moyens to employ my time tiU evening. Adieu, 
 adieu !" and with a graceful courtesy he quitted his fair landlady, 
 and proceeded on his way. 
 
 In telling a story, sweet and delectable reader, one of the greatest 
 arts is to know what not to tell. Imagination, curious and busy 
 jade that she is, likes to have a finger in every pie; and you 
 had better let her or she will pout with you all through the book. 
 Then, again, we are informed that the truth is not to be told at all 
 times, so that if you have got any truth about you, bag it and 
 keep it up, like a cottager's flitch of bacon, or an Arab's bag of 
 dates, only to be used on high days and holydays, or like a bottle of 
 choice anno domini, an especial treat for an ancient friend. Then, 
 again, there are things which are mighty true and mighty reasonable, 
 which might prove also mighty tedious, like a long discussion upon 
 nothing at all, which you should never inflict upon the reader, except 
 for the express purpose of teasing him; and there are many other 
 things which an author ought to keep as secret as the inside of 
 a diplomatist's portfolio. For which of the above-mentioned reasons 
 it is quite unnecessary to state, but we shall keep to ourselves, without 
 affording any explanation whatever, the whole of the proceedings of 
 Joey Pike during the next eleven hours, twenty-four minutes, and 
 fifteen seconds. 
 
 It was just five minutes, forty-five seconds past nine o'clock, then, 
 when Joey parted with Mrs. Muggins at the sign of the Half Moon, 
 and now behold him, at half-past eight o'clock at night precisely, 
 standing like a "Herald Mercury" on the top of the stile leading 
 into Outrun Park, balanced on the tip of his right toe, with his 
 left foot extended behind, his right hand slightly raised before, and 
 
256 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 a slight smile of sweet self-satisfaction on his lips to think how 
 beautiful and graceful was his attitude. The next moment he de- 
 scended with a bound into the park, and murmured to himself and 
 of himself, " Gazelle !" 
 
 The shades of night were falling, the sky was grey, the air was 
 somewhat heavy, and at each step as Joey walked on darker and 
 darker grew the hour and brighter grew his thoughts. The idea 
 of delivering Laura from the giant of Outrun Castle made him 
 feel himself quite a preux chevalier. He longed to cast off his 
 petticoats and buckle on his armour, to do great and glorious 
 deeds on behalf of the lady, and kick some Insolent clown attempt- 
 ing to stop them, half way to the moon. By the time he had crossed 
 one third of the park it was nearly dark, and when he had got 
 about a quarter of a mile farther he began to think it odd that 
 Laura did not appear. 
 
 " Quelque empechementy^ he said, " I will stay under these trees 
 and watch till she comes." 
 
 In vain did he watch, in vain did he wait. Nine o'clock striking 
 in the village was borne in soft sounds to his ear by the gentle south- 
 westerly wind. Half-past nine — ten o'clock arrived. With a palpitating 
 heart, with an agitated frame, with a discomposed mind, Joey waited 
 till half-past ten, and then was calculating whether he should boldly 
 make an assault upon Outrun Castle, or show that he had patience and 
 resolution sufficient for a night watch, when he suddenly saw two per- 
 sons coming along towards him at a very little distance. 
 
 « 'Tis she,'^ he thought, " 'tis she !" 
 
 But, heaven and earth ! what did he hear the next moment. 
 
 " If you try to run a step or say a word," cried a rough man's voice, 
 " I will knock you to pieces in an instant !" 
 
 Joey Pike was astounded. These words were addressed to Laura, 
 to Laura herself — pretty Laura Longmore — for there she evidently 
 was, driven along towards the village of Outrun with a tall, powerful 
 man following close at her heels. Prudence and chivalry made a sad 
 struggle of it in Joey Pike's bosom, but chivalry got the better, for he 
 started forward exclaiming — 
 
 " Hallo ! Who you be ? What you is doing ?'* 
 
 Alack ! the fate that sometimes falls on gallant men. Almost as he 
 spoke, and before he could parry it, he received a blow between the 
 eyes, and the next instant he was lying upon his back in the grass with 
 very little inclination to get up again. 
 
DK LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 257 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 LAURA LONGMOBE BECKONS WITH FOBTUNE BUT BECKONS WITHOUT HEB HOST 
 
 A QUO! BEVENT LES JEUNES FILLES AN UNWELCOME VISITOR — THE FLIOHT 
 
 AND PUBSUIT A SECOND TRAP CAUGHT AT LAST. 
 
 When Laura was reinstated in her own chamber, after having escaped 
 from the den of Jerry, or Jeremiah, Tripe, she sat down to consider 
 whether she ought to congratulate or bemoan herself — whether to think 
 herself very fortunate, or the most unlucky girl under the sun. It is not 
 at all an uncommon predicament, reader, to be placed in, and indeed those 
 questions might be applied to the heart of every human being a thousand 
 times more frequently than they are asked ; for, as the old adage is 
 very true, that '* all is not gold that glitters," so does it very often 
 happen, that the most splendid occurrences which befall us in life are but 
 misfortunes in a gilded garb ; while disappointment, and even sorrow, 
 are not unfrequently but as the dewy mists of the morning, which cool 
 the air and soften the ground, and produce fruits and flowers we little 
 dream of. Oh ! many, many is the occasion in life when man weeps 
 or laughs, and yet would do much better if he were to sit down and 
 ask himself, " Am I really fortunate or unfortunate ?" 
 
 Laura, however, had very self-evident causes for putting such ques- 
 tions to herself, and, as is very usual with all the events which befall 
 numanity, she found there was a little of both good and bad luck in 
 all that had occurred to her during the preceding night. Very unlucky 
 did she think herself in having her escape cut off at the very moment 
 when it had been so well planned and arranged ; but very lucky in 
 having got out of Jerry Tripe's ghost-trap, when there seemed not the 
 slightest possible chance of such a consummation. She reflected, too, 
 that all is not lost which is delayed ; and, as Jane had promised to aid 
 her that very night — Jane, whose power to set her free she looked 
 upon as absolute — Laura consoled herself by thinking that nothing could 
 now prevent her from getting away from Outrun Castle in the most com- 
 fortable manner possible. Alack-and-a-well-a-day, how we do reckon 
 without our host in this good world of ours ! But we have spoken 
 upon that part of the subject before, and as our wish indubitably is to 
 get on, with the utmost rapidity, to the end of our tale, Me won't 
 detain the reader in this place to descant upon the whims and vagaries 
 of destiny. Laura settled the matter comfortably, then, in her own 
 mind, that she should get away that very night, with Jane for a guide, 
 and Joey Pike for a protection. But having had her natural rest 
 somewhat abridged during the preceding night, and looking forward 
 to more fatigue than her pretty little frame was accustomed to, she 
 thought it would be a very comfortable plan to take a little more 
 
 C. NO. IX. s 
 
^Jj|8 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 repose while she could get it. Accordingly, having cast off all those 
 incumbrances with which our unfortunate humanity has been loaded 
 ever since our fair and frail ancestress, our ur alter mutter, Eve, was 
 persuaded, by the grand originator of all blarney, to eat the forbidden 
 apple, and get her husband into the same scrape as herself, Laura 
 stepped into bed again just as the clock struck that single note which 
 indicated that half an hour had past since the hour of seven. She 
 laid down her head upon the pillow j she fancied that she would go to 
 sleep, but she was mistaken, for her mind was too full of thoughts for 
 the drowsy goddess to have power over her ; and she lay, revolving 
 all those manifold images which dance before the mental eyes of a girl 
 of nineteen. 
 
 Now, it is probable that there is nobody in Europe, no, not Bulwer, 
 nor James, nor Balzac, nor Hugo, nor Tick — nay, nor she who has un- 
 sexed herself, and grafted on the weaknesses of woman the fiercer licen- 
 tiousness of man — it is probable, I say, that nobody in Europe is able 
 at all to describe what are the imaginings of a pure-hearted girl of nine- 
 teen. But the Chevalier de Lunatico is a privileged person. Woman's 
 thoughts are, to him, all open, and therefore we can tell exactly what 
 were Laura's fancies, as she lay there and thought omnibus rebus et qui- 
 husdam aliis. First in that vast category was the hope of speedily meet- 
 ing those she loved again. Her father yes, reader, it was of her father 
 
 she thought first ; for though if we had put the hard question to her, 
 and insisted upon her answering it, which she loved best, her father or 
 Harry Worrel, we should have agitated her a great deal, and in the 
 end made her weep, which would be quite answer enough ; yet she 
 thought of her father first upon a threefold principle — affection, 
 habit, duty ; and she pictured to herself how glad he would be to see 
 her, how his kind and good-natured heart would overflow — how, the very 
 first night she returned to Ivy- Hall — she forgot it was burnt down — 
 he would make her sit opposite to him in the soft, low sofa, in the 
 corner, and take a hit at backgammon, and talk about the stars and 
 electroscopes, and transit instruments ; and, warmed into tenderness at 
 recovering her, would be in the best humour possible with the whole 
 universe, would speak of Orion, and Lyra, and the Great Bear, as if 
 they were dear friends, and would end by consenting to her marriage 
 with Harry Worrel, or any body else she liked. 
 
 Having got thus far, dear reader, it was an easy leap to think of Harry 
 Worrel himself, and of how much she loved him, and of being married 
 to him, and of the pretty bonnet she would have on her wedding day, with 
 a sprig of orange flower resting on her glossy brown hair ; and of going 
 away with him on a tour ; and her heart got a little fluttered, and she grew 
 somewhat nervous, but she soon consoled herself in a sweet long walk 
 with him, through some beautiful shady lanes and green meadows, and 
 by the side of a babbling brook, with a trout springing at a fly, here 
 and there; and she thought it would be very happy, indeed, to feel herself 
 bound to him for ever, with the irrevocable words spoken, which placed 
 her fate in his hands, her happiness in his keeping. Oh ! sweet and 
 beautiful trust of woman, what a bright and fine thing thou art, when, 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIEKNDO. 259 
 
 in the heart's purity and the guileless simplicity of youth, thou takest 
 all the treasures of existence, the rubies, and emeralds, and diamonds 
 of warm and unpolluted affections, the pearls of the heart's tenderness, 
 the gold of bright expectations and happy dreams, and castest them 
 all, without a fear, into the lap of him thou lovest, and say est, in 
 full confidence, " Keep them for thee and me." So was Laura 
 Longmore prepared to do ; and as she lay there and contemplated that 
 act, it rejoiced her heart, and she paused upon it, dreaming sweet 
 dreams, with a bosom as pure and sunshiny, as calm and holy, as the 
 bright summer morning, when every thing in nature raises the praiseful 
 voice of joy to the throne of the Almighty benefactor. 
 
 Upon the wings of such gentle thoughts came sleep, which had 
 lasted about an hour when Jane, the housemaid, came in at the stated 
 hour of nine o'clock. Alas ! reader, it is a terrible thing to be called 
 in the morning. No man should ever order his servant to do it with- 
 out a strong motive — or, at least, without considering well what he is 
 about. How many a bright vision is broken through, far sweeter than 
 any thing that waking life can give, by that hateful tap at the door ! 
 How many an airy hope is blighted ; how many a dreamy fortune 
 destroyed ; how much joy and satisfaction, prosperity, advancement, 
 station, consideration, is swept away ; what bright qualities of mind, 
 eloquence, genius, imagination, are frequently all lost and ruined by 
 that sad tap at the door ! Whether it be to be hanged or to be mar- 
 ried, to fight a duel or to eat our breakfast, depend upon it, reader, 
 when one rises in the morning one leaves the brightest jewel of life 
 under one's pillow, unless one supped the night before on pork and 
 suet dumplings. 
 
 Laura wished Jane had been a little later, for she was busy with 
 such dreams as might well follow such thoughts as those which we have 
 seen her entertain, and it was with some unwillingness that she arose 
 and dressed herself, to go through the ordinary dulness of the day. 
 Not long after, however, by the time that she was fully dressed, 
 and had sat down to breakfast, the silence of the house was broken by 
 sundry calls, shouts, and exclamations, and then the rapid pattering of 
 manifold feet up the stairs, past her door, through the corridor, across 
 to the picture gallery, and in every possible direction round her room. 
 Laura could not conceive what was the matter, but in the end the sounds, 
 after varying in their character for some time, diminished, died away, and 
 all was placid. Not long after that again, Sally, the housemaid, re- 
 appeared, took away the breakfast things, chatted a few minutes with 
 the young lady, raised the family of Outrun in her estimation, by 
 relating the viscount's proceeding in regard to the maids, and then 
 disappeared, leaving Laura to enjoy an hour of solitary thought. At 
 the end of that time something made the handle of the door rattle, 
 and she started and looked round. Whoever was on the outside was 
 evidently a personage not much accustomed to open that lock, for 
 twice he touched it delicately, without succeeding, and then shook it 
 violently, as giving way to a fit of impatience. 
 
 The next moment, however, the key was turned, the door was 
 opened, and a head was thrust in which made Laura start up from the 
 
i^ THE COMMISSIONEH ; OR, 
 
 table in terror and dismay. It was that of a man, of perhaps fifty 
 years of age, with long and shaggy locks, which had evidently been 
 neither cut nor combed for many a week, with a beard which, for 
 fourteen or fifteen days, at least, had not known the touch of a razor, 
 and a skin pale with dirt, and apparently with want of food. The 
 hair and beard had once been jet black, but were now thickly strown 
 with gray, and from underneath a pair of long and bushy eyebrows 
 looked out two keen and glittering blue eyes, rolling rapidly around 
 the chamber, as if in search of some one. Those eyes rested upon 
 Laura but for a moment, and then ran on, looking into every corner, 
 with a fierce and eager fire that made her blood run cold. But then, 
 they turned to her again, scanning her face with a look of intense in- 
 quiry, while the man's lips moved, as if he were murmuring something 
 to himself, but no sounds were heard. The moment after, opening 
 the door wider, he entered, and shut it behind him, laughing with a 
 wild, strange, meaningless laugh, while his face continued grave, and 
 even sad. 
 
 Poor Laura was dreadfully terrified, as may be supposed, for such 
 was not at all the sort of person with whom she could have coveted 
 a tete-a-tete at that moment. She felt a strong inclination to scream 
 come over her — a sort of inclination which with women is sometimes 
 irresistible, as the reader perhaps knows : but in this instance Laura 
 did resist ; and being, as we have shown, a very good little sensible 
 girl, she was creeping rapidly towards the bell, which, unfortunately, 
 lay on the other side of the bed, when her unwelcome visitor, appa- 
 rently divining her intention, darted forward and interposed between 
 her and the instrument of noise. 
 
 " Ha, ha !" he cried, " I have caught her, if I haven't caught him, 
 and now 1*11 have my revenge." 
 
 " Revenge upon me!" cried Laura, clasping her hands together ; «I 
 never did any thing to harm you, sir — ^you must mistake me for some 
 one else." 
 
 " No, no," cried the man ; " no, no ; perhaps you never did me any 
 harm, but he did, and thafs enough." 
 
 "No one belonging to me!" cried Laura; "I am sure my father 
 does good to every body; I do not think he has an enemy in the 
 world." 
 
 « Your father — your father !" cried the man, with a laugh ; « It's 
 your husband I talk of. — ^And why should not I make your father's 
 heart as sore as he has made mine ? I crept in here to tear the villain 
 to pieces, but I've got you and that will do nearly as well." 
 
 "For heaven's sake— for pity's sake listen to me," cried Laura, 
 keeping the table between her and her fearful guest. " You are mis- 
 taken altogether. 1 have no husband ! I am Laura, the daughter of 
 Mr. Longmore ; and they are keeping me here a prisoner against my 
 
 ^ " No husband !" cried the man. « Ha, ha, ha ! Then it is high 
 time you should have one. I'll be your husband. I'm a gay widower. 
 My wife has been dead this twelvemonth — Keep you here a prisoner, 
 do they ? Poor thing, then it's time you should make your escape.— 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIREMDO. 261 
 
 They kept me prisoner, too, but I was cunning — I was very cunning — 
 and last Saturday, while they were all at church, I showed them how a 
 man could get out of any place, when he's willing. Til show you, too, 
 and we'll make our escape the same way. — Come along, come along, 
 and you shall see. We'll tie the sheets together, as I did, and then 
 out of the window ; and then we'll go and be married, and I'll make 
 an honest woman of you, as he ought to do, the black villain. Oh, I 
 wish I had his heart in my two hands, I'd tear it to pieces." 
 
 As he spoke he dragged the sheets from the bed, and tied them 
 together in a hard knot, fastened one end to the bed-post, and, 
 approaching the window, threw it open. Laura, as may well be con- 
 ceived, was frightened very much, but luckily was not frightened out 
 of her senses, which is always the worst plan a person can pursue. 
 When, therefore, she saw the very tremendous personage who had 
 invaded her apartment begin to busy himself with the sheets, she per- 
 ceived the possibility of escape, and instantly determined to avail her- 
 self of it. As the reader knows, there were two doors to the room ; 
 that by which the readiest means of exit presented itself, however, 
 namely, the great door, leading to the principal staircase, was consi- 
 derably nearer to her unpleasant visitor than to herself, so that he 
 could stop her in an instant if she attempted flight in that direction. 
 The other was much nearer to herself, and though she had locked 
 it, yet she had left the key in, and watching her moment, when he was 
 at the window, she crept quietly to the door, opened it, and darted 
 along the corridor like lightning. 
 
 In an instant she heard a loud oath and his foot pursuing. Terror 
 seemed to give her wings, and on she flew to the small back staircase. 
 Quicker and quicker came the steps behind her, however, and hoping 
 she might be near some of the inhabited parts of the house, she 
 screamed aloud for help, but without pausing in her flight for a 
 moment. Down the steps she ran like lightning, and made straight for 
 the door by which she had beheld Jerry Tripe enter on her first 
 nocturnal expedition. Alas ! when she tried to open it she found it 
 locked. The man was now rushing furiously down the stairs after her. 
 There was a door to the right and left — Laura had to choose between 
 them, and, as is always the case when people choose in a hurry, she 
 took the wrong one. It opened readily to her hand, and, under the 
 impulse of terror, she darted in ; but all she found was an empty room, 
 without any outlet whatsoever. The door was instantly banged to be- 
 hind her, and Laura heard a loud, wild, ringing laugh, that made the 
 whole place echo, and then the key turned, making her more strictly a 
 prisoner than ever. Wild with fear, she gazed up at the window as the 
 only means of escape, but it, like all those at the back of the house, 
 was strongly barred. Her next thought was, by what means she could 
 stop the entrance of her pursuer ; but the door had neither bolt nor bar in 
 the inside, and she was evidently quite at his mercy. That he was a 
 madman she could not doubt: his look, his words, his whole manner showed 
 it ; and when, after a few moments of agonizing suspense, she found 
 that lie did not appear, hope rose up again, and she fancied that he 
 
262 THE commissioner; ok, 
 
 might leave her there, and forget her. The next instant, however, 
 showed her what a terrible situation she might be placed in, even if this 
 hope were realized. She might be hours, days, weeks, before any body 
 came to her deliverance. The room had evidently been long out of 
 use ; the window looked out into a small stone court, the long grass in 
 which evinced how rarely it was trod by human foot. She knew that 
 that part of the house was but rarely visited, and, full of terrible 
 apprehensions in regard to what might befall her, the poor girl leaned 
 upon the window-sill and wept bitterly. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 THE FATE OF MB. LONQSHANKS THE STATE OF HIS RELATIONS WITH HIS HORSE 
 
 MR. SMALLDRAM RE-APPEARS DE PROFUNDIS MR. LONGSHANKS MISAPPRE- 
 HENDS THE DISORDER OF HIS PATIENT HE SEARCHES FOR OCCULT EFFECTS AND 
 
 MEETS WITH SOME SAD SPECTACLES. 
 
 Really we cannot help it — we feel it would be improper — in common 
 coiu'tesy, dear reader, we must not — it cannot be thought of — however 
 much we may be interested in Laura ; whatsoever may be our conside- 
 ration for Joey Pike ; though we may wish to return to Mr. Longmore, 
 or Alderman Rotundity, or Harry Worrel ; though we may be deeply 
 affected by the sorrows of the viscount , or moved with respect and 
 admiration by the virtues and high qualities of the Honourable Frede- 
 rick Augustus, nevertheless we feel that we should be committing an act 
 of the highest indecorum if we were to leave any longer our respected 
 friend Mr. Longshanks just getting into his gig at the door of Rotun- 
 dity Court. To him, then, we must now return, as he put on his dark- 
 grey great-coat in the well-carpetted vestibule of the alderman's house, 
 and wrapping a shawl-handkerchief round his chin and throat, left his 
 nose, like the unfortunate figure-head of a ship, to brave the wind and 
 weather as he dashed along. All this being done, Mr. Longshanks 
 walked out with a footman lighting him, and putting a shilling into 
 that officiars hand — a good old custom, the decay of which most 
 serving men regret — he stepped into his gig and took the reins and 
 whip. The horse was a sleek bay gelding, some sixteen hands in 
 height, without one wrinkle in all his glossy skin. He was an old ser- 
 vant, too, and horse and master knew each other well, with all their 
 various whims and vagaries. As soon as he was seated round went 
 the whip over Mr. Longshank's head, as if destined to fall with a most 
 awful cut upon the shoulder of the bright bay ; but not a bit did it 
 touch him, and on the contrary, whizzing innocuous over his right ear, 
 it made a terrible crack in the air, which the horse understood very 
 
DS LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 263 
 
 well as an intimation that it was time for him to move. Away he went, 
 then, exactly at his own pace, perfectly aware of how much and how 
 little he was to expect from his master; and in complete harmony 
 together they dashed on towards the little village in which the worthy 
 surgeon passed the eventide of life. When they came to the turning, 
 however, which led down to Mr. Longshanks' own abode, there ap- 
 peared some slight appearances of contention. It must be recollected 
 and taken into consideration that it was Mr. Longshanks himself who 
 had received a note summoning him from the dinner-table, and not the 
 horse, so that the worthy gelding knew nothing about the matter ; and 
 being a staid and sober beast, by no means fond of gadding about, he 
 had rejoiced himself all the way that he came along with the idea of 
 eating his supper quietly at home, putting on liis night-cap, and going 
 to bed. We speak figuratively, dear reader, of course ; for although 
 Mr. Longshanks certainly had his own peculiar whims and oddities, yet 
 we do not in the least mean to insinuate that his horses wore night-caps, 
 or slept between Holland sheets. He was very kind to his horses, it is 
 true, but whether it would have been kind to put them on such a 
 system, may be a question for the curious. However, at the turning of 
 the lane the horse was preparing to dart down with somewhat of an 
 accelerated pace to the mansion, and when he found the rein pulled 
 the other way, he was a little disappointed it must be acknowledged. 
 That disappointment he displayed by a sudden swerve of the flank, 
 which nearly whirled the light vehicle into the ditch ; and Mr. Long- 
 shanks, who was not a man to be trifled with, thereupon made him feel 
 that the instrument which he held in his hand, called a whip, could bite 
 as well as bark. 
 
 And now, says the reader, and perhaps the publisher too, for pub- 
 lishers sometimes have the extraordinary self-assurance to comment 
 upon stories that they do not understand in the least, even before they 
 have seen the end of them, for which the Chevalier de Lunatico ought 
 on all occasions to send them a ticket for his own sphere — and now, 
 says the reader, " what in the name of fortune has all this history of the 
 horse to do with the tale you are telling, and I am reading ?" 
 
 Really, dearly beloved, we do not think it necessary to inform you, but 
 the result of the horse's start to the side of the road was this, that up 
 sprang out of the ditch the figure of a good stout man, who seemed to 
 conceive that the proceedings of Mr. Longshanks, his gig, liis horse, 
 and his groom, were intended as a decided attack on himself. 
 
 " Who the devil are you ?" cried Mr. Longshanks. 
 
 But to this friendly inquiry the gentleman out of the ditch offered no 
 reply, and, on the contrary, making use both of his hands and his feet, 
 he broke his way through the adjoining hedge and ran across the fields 
 as hard as he could go. 
 
 " It's that scoundrel, Smalldram, sir," said the groom ; " he's for ever- 
 lasting hanging about here." 
 
 " Then tell William to take care of the silver spoons," said Mr. 
 Longshanks ; and bringing the horse round, he drove up towards the 
 
264 THE COMMISSIONER ; OK, 
 
 moor and stopped at the door of Nelly Bain's cottage. There was a 
 light in the window, and the worthy surgeon descending with a pre- 
 cipitate step, muttered to himself, "Ay, I dare say she is ill enough, or 
 she would never have sent that dirty scrawl to me. So I suppose she 
 expects that I can come and cure her when she has gone and broken 
 her heart like an idiot. She'll find herself very much mistaken though ; 
 I'll not cure her, why the deuce should I ? Much better she should die. 
 What's the use of her lingering on whining and pining, just like a 
 person who wants to go and see their son in France, and yet dare not 
 cross the water. I wonder whom the old fool has got to take care of 
 her ? I must send up somebody from the house." 
 
 Thus murmuring the good surgeon laid his hand upon the latch and 
 tried to open the door, but it was locked, and he tapped for admission, 
 gently at first, but the next moment with a good hard rap, and then 
 a heavy blow. 
 
 " Who's there ?" cried the voice of Nelly Bain. " You shan't come 
 in till I know who it is!" 
 
 " Heyday !" cried the surgeon ; " are you mad, Nelly Bain ? Are 
 you drunk ? Are you stupid ? Are you beside yourself ? Did you 
 not send for me, saying you wanted to see me directly ?" 
 
 At the well-known sounds of the good surgeon's voice, the widow 
 instantly opened the door, dropping a low courtesy as she did so, and 
 saying, " Dear me, sir, I thought you would not come to-night, and I 
 was afraid of keeping the door open." 
 
 The surgeon walked in, laid his cocked-hat deliberately down upon 
 the deal table, undid the shawl-handkerchief from his neck and chin, 
 and then taking the candle out of Mrs. Bain's hand, held it close to her 
 face, till he had examined every feature and lineament therein ; then 
 setting it down again, he seated himself quietly in a chair, saying 
 aloud, but in a meditative tone, " The woman's distraught ! She's 
 non compos ! She's as mad as a march hare !" 
 
 Nelly Bain had once been a very pretty woman, her skin was clear 
 and fair, and her face could not be said to be wrinkled, though there 
 was a sort of Morocco-leather shrivelling of the cuticle, which indicated 
 that that tegument had once been more filled out than it now was, and 
 that the better part of life had worn away in cares and sorrows. 
 Through that thin, clear, pale, and somewhat withered skin, now rose 
 up a faint, delicate blush at the good surgeon's hard conclusions. She 
 would not for the world have said a word that could offend him ; she 
 was unwilling to contradict him in any thing, or deny that he was right 
 even in his rashest assertions, for he was her benefactor ; nevertheless 
 it was painful to her to hear herself called mad, especially by one she 
 loved and venerated. 
 
 " No, sir," she said, " indeed I am not out of my mind : I never was 
 better in my life." 
 
 " Then what the devil did you send for me for ?" exclaimed Mr. 
 Longshanks : " why did you rouse me from a comfortable dinner-party 
 at Mr. Rotundity's, when you know you are quite well ?" 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 265 
 
 " Bless my heart !" cried Widow Bain ; " then the boy made a great 
 mistake. I only sent the note to your own house, sir, and never thought 
 he would go on after you. Indeed, indeed, sir, I would not for the 
 world have roused you from your comfortable dinner. I would rather 
 have remained up and watched all night. I am sorry indeed, sir, you 
 were disturbed at dinner." 
 
 " D n the dinner," said Mr. Longshanks ; " you don't think I 
 
 care a farthing about the dinner, do you ?" 
 
 " Well, sir," rejoined the widow, " I do know, indeed, you care little 
 enough about what you eat and drink ; but I'm very sorry that foolish 
 boy took you away from pleasant company." 
 
 " Pleasant company ! — pleasant company !" exclaimed the surgeon — 
 " the greatest pack of fools and knaves I ever saw in my life. There 
 was that old fool. Rotundity, and that still greater fool, Longmore, and 
 that gormandizing barrel of fresh pork. Deputy Popeseye, with a whole 
 heap of horse-racing, card-playing, land-tilling tricksters — half-swind- 
 ler, half-bumpkin — such as we see adorning the bench, sitting in par- 
 liament — making and dispensing the law, and very often breaking 
 it too. Company, forsooth! Do you think I care for such com- 
 pany?* 
 
 " Well, sir," replied Nelly Bain, who had some inclination to weep, 
 " all I mean to say is, I'm sorry to have disturbed you when you were 
 comfortable." 
 
 " Comfortable I" cried Mr. Longshanks, whose indignation had not 
 quite worked itself fine. " Drunk, I suppose you mean ! But I can 
 tell you, Nelly Bain, I have not been drunk since I was nineteen years 
 old ; when, in a mad frolic, as a surgeon's assistant, I frightened a 
 poor girl into fits, from which she never recovered, and for which 
 I never forgave myself, nor ever shall." And so saying he twisted his 
 cocked-hat three times round upon the table, and looked into the 
 crown. 
 
 " Well," he continued at length, after a deep sigh — " well, Nelly, if 
 you are neither sick nor mad, why did you send for a surgeon ? What 
 do you want with me ? You know if I can help you, you have nothing 
 to do but to speak, my poor woman." 
 
 " 1 know that quite well, sir," replied Nelly Bain, with a tear in 
 either eye. " You are always ready to help any one that needs it. 
 But it wasn't about myself I sent, sir, it's about a very funny thing that 
 has happened here, and I thought you being a magistrate and a gen- 
 tleman " 
 
 " Stop, Nelly," said Mr. Longshanks ; " don't use the word gentleman 
 lightly. It is a term that should be very rarely, very cautiously, and 
 very respectfully applied to any one. Gold is the most precious of 
 metals, Nelly, and diamonds the most precious of stones, but gold and 
 diamonds are very plentiful things when compared to gentlemen. The 
 first you find in many a fool's purse, the second you find hanging round 
 the necks of flirts, and demireps, and half-harridans ; but let me tell 
 you, you may go into nine hundred and ninety-nine out of all the 
 
266 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 saloons in Europe without finding such a thing as one true gentleman 
 in them. A gentleman, Nelly, is not the man that wears fine clothes, 
 either upon his body or his mind. I mean, not a man who dresses 
 himself in silks and fine colours, smart coats and well-cut boots ; who 
 has a fashionable air, and assorts his garments with all sorts of pro- 
 priety : nor he, who on the principles of a Chesterfield, decks his mind 
 with graceful thoughts, shapes his demeanour by the most approved 
 rules, and studies all that may catch the outward senses of those with 
 whom he mingles in this world. No, Nelly, no, this is not a gentleman ; 
 no more than a piece of gilded brass which bears the king's head upon 
 one side, and his arms upon the other, is a guinea. The gentleman, 
 Nelly, is the man who in his heart possesses the consciousness of uni- 
 versal benevolence and personal rectitude. The one giving to his 
 whole manners and demeanour, grace, suavity, and gentleness ; ihe 
 other communicating to his countenance and his limbs both dignity and 
 ease. This, Nelly, this is a gentleman : so, Nelly, you must not call 
 me a gentleman." 
 
 "Well, sir, I won't," said Nelly, and Mr. Longshanks was not 
 offended. " But, sir," she continued, almost as impatient as the reader 
 to get on with her story, " I thought as you were a magistrate you had 
 better know what was going on." 
 
 " A great deal of wickedness, I dare say," said Mr. Longshanks, 
 " that I had better know nothing about, Nelly." 
 
 " Well, sir," said Nelly, " you can judge of that when I have told 
 you. The very first night I was here — that's to say after I came back 
 again — as I was sitting with old Mrs. Maroon, who offered to stay and 
 keep me company that night, a man looked in at the window, and 
 when I went to the door to see who it was, there was a stout thick-set 
 fellow, with his hand lifted up to the thatch, as if he were pulling a 
 handfull of straw out. He made off as fast as he could when he saw 
 me ; and your honour coming in just then, said you had met Small- 
 dram the tinman. Well, sir, two days ago Smalldram came up again 
 and did just the same thing. I had gone out, down to the village, but 
 was just coming back again and saw him take his hand away, and walk 
 up over the common. I thought to myself when I saw him, that I 
 would examine the place to which his hand was stretched out, but on 
 giving a glance over it I found nothing. The thatch seemed all fast 
 enough, and a good thatch it is, for my poor William did it himself. 
 But to-night the man came again, just in the dusk, after I had shut the 
 door, but before I had lighted the candle. Hearing a step I looked out 
 through the window, and saw him clear enough, and I then perceived he had 
 got his hand under the thatch, and that he took something out. I couldn't 
 make out what it was, but he put either the part or the whole back again, 
 and then away he went ; and when he had gone about half an hour, I 
 went out and felt under the thatch, and between it and the wall there 
 seems to be a whole heap of things, some of them, hard and some of 
 them soft, but I could not take one of them out till I had sent for you, 
 which I did as soon as possible. But you see, sir, I had nobody to 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 267 
 
 send except the little boy, Thompson, who came up for the milk- 
 can, and he went on, I fancy, when he couldn't find you at home." 
 
 " We'll soon see, we'll soon see," cried the worthy surgeon. " Bring 
 out the candle. Widow Bain ; shade it with your apron, good woman, 
 for there is a wind stirring. Now, Williamson," he continued, opening 
 the door and speaking to the groom, " fasten the horse somewhere, and 
 come hither to be a witness. There, that will do, that will do, tie him 
 to the post. Now come hither, Nelly Bain. Nelly Bain, where's the 
 
 place. D n it, the woman's let the candle out. Woman, woman, 
 
 thou art always like fortune in this world ; thou lightest us up to within 
 a step of the point desired, and then blowest out the light. Well, 
 don't stand there, go and get another ;" and Mr. Longshanks, in the 
 abrupt impatience of his disposition, walked nine times from one side 
 of the garden to the other before Nelly Bain could light the candle 
 again. 
 
 When at length she appeared, her patron, to her surprise, walked 
 straight up to the spot where she had seen Smalldram the tinman with 
 his hand under the thatch ; for Mr. Longshanks had been intended by 
 nature for a great general, and while she was lighting the candle he 
 had calculated with the utmost nicety, the exact position in which the 
 worthy tinman and rabit-seller must have stood for the widow to see 
 him out of her little cottage-window. Instantly thrusting his hand 
 under the thatch he felt about for nearly a minute without finding any 
 thing, but the next moment he drew forth a small shagreen case about 
 six inches long, and two broad. 
 
 " You see, Nelly Bain," he cried, holding it up to the light. " You 
 see, Williamson !" 
 
 " But there's more besides that, sir," said Nelly Bain. 
 
 " Not that I can find, Nelly," replied Mr Longshanks, " feel your- 
 self." 
 
 In vain, however, did the widow grope under the thatch, nothing 
 more could she discover ; and she ended by exclaiming, " He must 
 have been up and taken them then, for I will swear that there was a 
 bundle of papers like bank notes. I thought I heard a step half an 
 hour ago." 
 
 " Ay, and we saw the scoundrel at the turning of the lane," said Mr. 
 Longshanks. " But come in and let us see what this is." 
 
 Entering the cottage the worthy surgeon seated himself in a chair, 
 Nelly Bain held the candle, and Williamson, the groom, looked over 
 her shoulder. Mr. Longshanks lifted up the case before their eyes. 
 It was old and worn, rounded at both ends, and somewhat corpulent 
 about the waist. It bore an inscription upon one side, which probably 
 would have caused ChampoUion or Young to pause and study the 
 outside in the first instance, but Mr. Longshanks was resolved to see 
 into the heart of the matter ; and taking one end in each hand, he 
 pulled the case in two ; when, lo, in the inside appeared — a pair of 
 spectacles ! 
 
 Then, and not till then, he turned to examine the outside of the 
 
268 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 case, when to the horror and admiration of all, appeared scratched 
 in with the point of a knife, and blackened with soot or some other 
 dusky pigment, the awful words, " Tobias Scapulary, 6th July, 17 — " 
 " Ha !" said Mr. Longshanks ; " this is important indeed, Nelly Bain ; 
 for although it is utterly impossible for the mind of man to enter into 
 all the dark, obscure, and secret recesses of the human breast, and trace 
 from the beginning in the small germs, in the seeds, Nelly Bain, of crimi- 
 nal desires and petty failings, the future horrible crimes and iniquities, 
 strifes, broils, robberies, adulteries, murders, that are consequent upon 
 some early error in education, or original fault of disposition, yet 
 
 certain it is but I'll explain all that to you another time. At 
 
 this moment we must act and not talk, so good night to you, Nelly 
 Bain." 
 
PE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 269 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 JOEY PIKB FINDS THE STILE IN POSSESSION OF SPIRITS NOT ETHEREAL: — AN 
 
 ETTMOLOaiCAL DISCUSSION OF A DIABOLICAL NATURE THE VALOUR OF JOSEPH 
 
 HE PASSES THE BREACH RETREATS NOT WITHOUT LOSS RALLIES REPULSES 
 
 THE ENEMY PERFORMS VARIOUS FEATS OF STRATEGY FATE PROVES PER- 
 VERSELY ADVERSE. 
 
 Joey Pike, when last we left him, was not in exactly the most 
 agreeable situation in the world. As we have informed the reader, 
 receiving a blow between the eyes, he fell flat upon his back, and 
 exactly in the same position in which he had tumbled did he lie 
 for the space of at least half-an-hour. Whether he felt it comfortable 
 or uncoiufortable, whether he considered himself in a graceful attitude, 
 or was without the power of putting himself in an attitude at all, 
 matters very little to this book. There he lay, reader, that is a con- 
 stantf and as such it is enough for you, I, or Mr. Babbage. When he 
 did get up, however, his head turned round, his eyes saw all manner of 
 colours, and he cried out, " Ah, vaery shocking, vaery shocking indeed ;" 
 and then with a step of slow and wounded dignity, he walked towards 
 the stile, which led past the house of Mrs. Scapulary into the village 
 of Outrun. 
 
 When he approached it the hour was not far from midnight, but it 
 was bright and clear, the sky lustrous with many lights, and the 
 memory of evening and the hope of morning shining from the west 
 and east, and meeting in faint radiance overhead. But by that gentle 
 twilight of a period of the year which owns no absolute darkness, the 
 astounded eyes of Joey Pike beheld a huge male form seated upon the 
 top of the wall. His active imagination instantly took hold of it, and 
 moulded it into every frightful shape. The church-yard was near the 
 foul pool in which Jerry Tripe had nearly perished, and in which a 
 drunken and egregious poacher had actually sunk never to rise again, 
 was close at hand ; so that Joey had every probability on his side when 
 he conceived that it must be a ghost or a goblin ; ay, even perhaps a 
 Hobgoblin, or, as it should properly be called, a hopgoh]in or empusOf 
 which we take to be the most awful and horrible of all sorts of gob- 
 lins. Conceive, dear reader, what a terrible and diabolical spirit it 
 must be which, not content with inflicting its malicious torments on the 
 human race in a calm and quiet manner upon two legs, shows its re- 
 joicing in the dreadful task assigned to it, by skipping and hopping, as 
 if in very mockery of the misery it causes. Can any thing be more 
 fiendish than the very definition of the Latin lexicographers — " a spirit 
 that hops upon one leg and changes itself into many shapes !" but be 
 it remarked that in all its shapes it still hops upon one leg, as if the 
 
270 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 other had been carried away in battle, for such is an absolute condition 
 of the existence of an empusa or hopgoblin, as the root itself shows — 
 *ev vovs ! It cannot do otherwise — it is its very nature to hop, as 
 Wallis and Junius clearly show ; and although Hobbes, with a natural 
 predilection for the first half of his own name, would have us believe 
 that the word ought to be hobgoblin, because hob is the short for robin ; 
 and others contend that the hobgoblin is merely one of the lares, or 
 household gods that sit down at the hob with us, yet it seems to me 
 clearly established by Coelius Rodiginus, that the empusa was a distinct 
 sort of hopping demon of Protean powers and malicious character, so 
 that Joey Pike had the best authority in the world for being excessively 
 frightened at the spectre which he beheld, as soon as ever he convinced 
 himself that it was a hopgoblin. 
 
 Nevertheless, as we have shown upon more than one occasion, Joey 
 Pike was a true hero. He was one of those men who, seeing danger 
 before him and knowing its extent, calmly calculate the object to be 
 obtained by confronting it, and if it be worthy, hesitate not to un- 
 dertake the enterprise. Nay more, there was something in the very 
 presence of danger itself which elevated and excited his whole mind — 
 his busy imagination was all in a flame with glory ; where glory was to 
 be obtained where would Joey Pike not have gone? One of I^ever's 
 Irishmen, one of James's men in armour, the Duke of Wellington in 
 his military capacity, Theseus, Hercules, Apollo himself, when in his 
 prime he shot the great sea serpent, was nothing to Joey Pike when 
 animated with the desire of high renown. On the present occasion, 
 however, his object was only to go to bed. No fame could he acquire 
 by encountering a hobgoblin on the top of a stile ; there were no eyes 
 to look upon him but those of the stars, who never report for the 
 newspapers. If he fell he was likely to fall unknown, if he triumphed 
 his achievement must be unrecorded. While he yet hesitated the voice 
 of the apparition was heard exclaiming in a discontented tone, " I say. 
 Bill, this is devilish dull work ! I should think she won't come to- 
 night ;" and thereupon up started another goblin from the grass, and 
 replied, " I should think not." 
 
 These awful words decided Joey Pike, who happening to be under one 
 of the trees, saw without being seen, and gliding back with many a deli- 
 cate and skilful bend, and with attitudes which only wanted a Phidias 
 or a Praxiteles to be transferred to stone or ivory, and enchant a hun- 
 dred ages, the renowned Joey retreated from the scene of ghostly con- 
 ference, and made up his mind to a bed under a chesnut tree. How 
 he slept and what dreams he dreamt we must leave to the vivid imagi- 
 nation of the reader. Suffice it, that he put a full mile between him- 
 self and the goblins before he lay down to rest, and that he woke 
 early on the following morning. Finding that the wind during the 
 night had made somewhat free with his drapery, and exposed his deli- 
 cate ancle, he blushed and simpered in the character of Miss Brochet, 
 and then betook himself to a path which led across the park towards 
 another stile on the opposite side. He reached that stile in safety, 
 mounted the first and second stone, and had his foot upon the top of 
 
1 
 
 
\jy ^'AJ7{u:/i€y^ .?4. 
 
 '/j-C€>-7-;//-€> Z^{y.'yza 
 
DE LTJNATICO INQUIRENDO. 27 1 
 
 the wall, but alas near him there was one of those little dells, such as 
 the yellow-haired laddie, famous in song, used to frequent, and where, 
 as we are told, "the hawthorn trees grow;" and just as he had reached 
 the aim of his desires, which at that moment was the top of the wall, 
 a loud voice shouted out from beneath the green branches, " Hallo, 
 Harry, hallo, there she goes. Split my wig, there she goes !" 
 
 Notwithstanding the adjuration of the elegant speaker, Joey did not 
 stop to dissever his suppositious hair, but descending rapidly on the 
 other side of the wall, ran along the road as if three mad bulls were 
 behind him. With a step like light he darted on, comparing himself as 
 he went to Camilla and all the goddesses and nymphs who were ravished 
 or not ravished by those rude gentlemen in days of yore, and seeing the 
 gate open he darted in, well knowing that the distance of only two 
 meadows lay between him and a wild common. Behind him, however, 
 came the sound of running feet, and though Joey banged the gate in 
 the face of his pursuers, they first pattered upon the hard road, and 
 then sounded upon the soft turf. On sped Joey towards the opposite 
 gate, distancing his followers by his agility, and taking pleasure as a 
 stag is said to do, in his flight from the chace. He reached the gate in 
 safety, pulled back the sneck, but in vain, it was padlocked by a foul 
 piece of semicircular iron. There was no avoiding it, Joey laid his 
 left hand on the top rail and vaulted. Unhappily the gate post caught 
 his muslin drapery, in the most lamentable position in the world. But 
 happily the force and velocity of his leap was such that cotton threads 
 and linen tape gave way, the dress rent, the horse-hair bustle was torn 
 off, and shorn of his fair proportions, Joey trod with additional light- 
 ness the velvet mead beyond. 
 
 " The devil's in the girl," cried one of the viscount's gamekeepers, 
 taking a long run and clearing the gate likewise, but Joey paused not 
 to listen or reply. On, on he flew ; while his two pursuers, with some 
 fifty yards between the pairs, panted upon his footsteps. The second 
 gate was open, a third gave him exit upon the common ; but alas, how 
 often does it happen, that from some slight miscalculation, the thing 
 we seek most ardently proves our bane. The common was open, it is 
 true, but it was covered with furze bushes. Joey, in his breeches, 
 might have won the day, but in petticoats the odds were against him. 
 Each bramble, each thorn, each tuft of gorse, snatched at his drapery, 
 impeded his progress, and often made him stumble. The first of his 
 pursuers was coming rapidly up, when, lo, an ass appeared, and 
 snatching up a stick which lay near, Joey sprang on the donkey's back. 
 "Europa rode a bull, he said, why not Miss Brochet on a jackass?" But 
 the sturdy quadruped refused to move. One, two, three blows sounded 
 ike a boy's drum-stick on a broken drum. The first gamekeeper was 
 close behind, he was stretching forth his hand to seize the fugitive, 
 when a fourth blow descended thundering on the flank ; up went the 
 donkey's heels, three of the pursuer's grinders flew into the air, and on 
 went Miss Brochet with her steed, braying and kicking, and sticking out 
 his tail, as if in mockery of the discomfited gamekeeper. While the 
 latter stood coughing and spitting, and holding his jaw, his companion 
 
272 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 came up, said a few words of comfort, and resumed the chase ; but 
 Miss Brochet, mounted on her Bucephalus, now set pursuit at defiance. 
 Seated on the croup of the donkey, waving her stick over her head, 
 snapping her fingers in the air, and exclaiming, " Ah, you catch me 
 when you shall can ;" she dashed across the common, sticking out her 
 left foot with ineffable grace, and urging on her quadruped with dexte- 
 rous blows upon every tender part, in a manner that might have 
 excited the admiring envy of any donkey-driver of Brighton or of 
 Ems, that purgatory of asses. Soon her last pursuer was forced to 
 abandon the chace, and while he remained panting and blowing, and 
 holding his heaving sides, she cantered on for at least three miles 
 across the extensive moors, which we have more than once before 
 mentioned. 
 
 Finding herself at length in safety, the young lady permitted her 
 steed to relax its speed, and then dismounting with a graceful spring, 
 she followed the ordinary course of mankind towards all that serve 
 them, by giving the friend who had aided her at such a terrible pinch, 
 a severe whack with the stick, and sending him back from whence he 
 came. 
 
 What to do next, oecame Joey Pike's immediate consideration, and 
 feeling a sort of misgiving as to the neighbourhood of Outrun Castle, 
 though it was by this time well nigh four miles off, he again took to his 
 legs, and sometimes running with a graceful trip, sometimes walking 
 with a stately step, proceeded two miles farther, taking the liberty of 
 gathering some early fruit out of a garden as he went, to supply the 
 cravings of a very importunate guest who had taken possession of his 
 stomach. He next betook himself to a sandpit, and under a shady 
 bank passed several comfortable hours, partly in a quiet dose, partly 
 in meditative dreams, in the course of which he compared himself to 
 every heroine who had been a wanderer and an outcast, from the time 
 of Eve down to his own day. So thoroughly had he convinced him- 
 self that he was not only outraged and persecuted, but absolutely a 
 woman, that he had well nigh given way to a fit of hysterics, for the 
 sole piu-pose of proving his sex. 
 
 At length about three o'clock or thereabouts, he took a path which 
 led both towards the dwelling of Widow Bain and Mr. Longshanks, 
 and determined to require hospitality at one or the other of those hos- 
 pitable gates, he was hesitating which of the two he should seek, when 
 his whole plans and purposes were changed by the sudden apparition 
 of a man in drab breeches and gaiters. To have seen him, one who 
 knew not the secret workings of his mind, would have supposed that 
 Joey Pike had suddenly lost his senses, for down he fell flat on his 
 belly, behind the bushes, making it seem as if the earth had swallowed 
 him ; and then, as he lay, without ever raising himself so as to be seen, 
 he writhed and wriggled about from bush to bush, and tree to tree, 
 and gap to gap, now dropping down a bank, as if it had given way 
 beneath his feet, now gliding behind the boll of an oak, now skulking 
 into a hollow dell, but still advancing and peering out every minute 
 with an eagerness, a zeal, and indefatigible activity, which was won- 
 

♦• 
 
 ^ 
 
 # 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 273 
 
 derful and admirable. It would delight the reader to hear all the ma- 
 noeuvres that he went through during the next four hours, but it is 
 impossible for the tongue or pen of man to describe all the feats that 
 he performed in the gymnastic art ; ay, and it would be impossible, 
 too, for any imagination to conceive the attitudes he fell into, or the 
 devices which he put in practice. That he was watching something was 
 very evident ; and it was not till the sky became dusk again that, joy- 
 fully clapping his hands, he exclaimed, " I have it now !" and off he 
 ran with all his speed to the house of Mr. Longshanks. 
 
 Rueful and dark was Joey's countenance when he heard that the worthy 
 surgeon had gone forth to dinner at Rotundity Court ; but he was one 
 whom no difficulties discouraged, no obstacles could appal, and off he set 
 as hard as he could go in that direction. " I will triumph over Fate,'* 
 cried Joey, while he walked for six miles as if he had a bet with the god- 
 dess. In the road under the park-pailing of Rotundity Court, however, 
 he suddenly paused, and with proper foresight, looked on before him. 
 He saw two men, even in that dark and dismal hour, hanging about 
 the gate ; there was a certain air and look about them, though he 
 could see not a feature of their faces, which Joey loved not. It was a 
 thieftaker-ish air, a Bow-street-officer-ish look, and Joey Pike stopped 
 short. Back again he crept, with his face still to the foe, to make sure 
 he was not observed, like the representative of a wild Indian at a 
 minor theatre ; and then when he reached the far end of the enclosure 
 he vaulted over the palling and lighted within the grounds. When he 
 was there, however, new difficulties beset him ; the shrubberies were 
 deep and intricate, the paths tortuous and studiously meandering ; he had 
 well nigh plunged into a piece of water, he ran his head against a 
 summer-house, he tumbled over an ancient ruin of a fortnight old. 
 At length, however, he issued forth upon a fair open lawn, and 
 instantly perceived the house before him, with all the windows open, 
 and lights and music and merry laughter streaming out upon the air. 
 With ecstatic joy and relief of mind, Joey tossed back his head, threw 
 forward his chest, extended his two hands like an opera singer about 
 to begin a duet, and then bounded up with the step of a Cerito. 
 
 Alas, for the hapless human race, what accidents do man environ I As 
 he descended on one foot his toe seemed to touch a spring-board, a loud 
 and sudden click was heard, a terrible blow broke his shin and pinched 
 his calf, and graceful Joey Pike found himself caught in an instrument 
 absurdl}' called " a humane mantrap." Loud and pitifully did he howl, 
 out rushed a number of persons from the house, and to his surprise, 
 joy, and consolation, the two first faces he beheld were those of 
 Harry Worrel and the Chevalier de Lunatico. Now having restored 
 him to the bosom of his friends, we shall leave Joey Pike to their ten- 
 d( r attentions, and proceed to gather the rest of our tiock together. 
 
 c. — NO. IX. 
 
274 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER XLV, 
 
 LAURA IN HER PRISON THE RETURN OF THE MADMAN THEIR rLIOHT 
 
 OL1MP8ES OF A SAD STORT LAURA's ESCAPE. 
 
 Did you ever, reader, when you were a child, get into an empty room, 
 before you had learnt the art and mystery of turning a lock, bang the 
 door to, and fancy you should never get out again ? Of all the 
 horrors that can ever rush into the human mind, the imaginations that then 
 rise up in the breast of infancy are by far the most terrible. With 
 fancy at its height, and a whole world untried, yawning like a vast 
 cavern before it, the agony of terrible uncertainty at that moment is 
 worse than all the positive pains and dangers that befall us in after 
 life. Rarely — very rarely, do we ever in mature years meet with an 
 hour so fearful as that. 
 
 Laura, however, in the close prison to which she was" now con- 
 fined — shut in by a madman, who was likely to forget her the next 
 moment — at a distance from the inhabited part of the house — with- 
 out a single soul knowing what had become of her, and every 
 probability against their seeking her in that direction — endured to 
 the full all the terrors of childhood, and gave herself up to utter 
 despair. Whenever fancy brought a sound to her ear, (for none in 
 reality reached her the whole day,) she raised her voice, and cried 
 aloud for lielp; but no one came ; and she saw the darkening of the day 
 with her bright eyes dim with tears. Seating herself in a corner of 
 the room, she gave way to the torrent, and wept violently, while night 
 crept on, and all was darkness. She had continued thus, with her face 
 buried in her hands, for nearly an hour, when she suddenly heard a 
 sound, and started up. Before she could cry out the key turned in the 
 lock, and the door opened. Although it flashed upon her mind imme- 
 diately that it was but the madman who had returned, yet, such are 
 the gradations of suffering, that the presence of him, from whom she 
 had fled in terror, came now as a blessed relief. 
 
 " Oh ! " she exclaimed, " I thouglit you had forgotten me !" And 
 the accents of joy in which she spoke seemed to touch the unhappy 
 man's heart : for it does seldom happen that the earthquake which 
 overthrows the temple of reason, lays the whole structure in such 
 utter ruin but that some passages, however tortuous and narrow, 
 still remain, by which human feeling can penetrate even to the inner- 
 most shrine. 
 
 " Forgotten you !" he said ; " and are you glad I have come ? Ha, 
 ha ! that is strange ; for now all the children fly from and hoot me ; 
 the very urchins whose heads I used to pat, look terrified if they see 
 me. I, who used never to come home without a look of joy and 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 275 
 
 satisfaction from the eyes that I loved best :" and down he sat upon 
 the floor, and placing his back against the door, fell into a sort of 
 stupor of meditation, with his hands clasped on his knees, and his head 
 drooping till his forehead almost rested on them. 
 
 For a short time Laura waited patiently to see the result, fearful of ex- 
 citing him to rage. She could see him distinctly as he sat, for the dark- 
 ness had come so gradually upon her eyes that the faint remaining light 
 of the summer night sufficed to give her a general view of every thing 
 around. At length, however, she spoke to, and tried to soothe him. 
 She besought him to let her go : with that divining spirit, which exists 
 more or less in the bosom of almost all women, she felt that his enmity 
 had been somehow excited by the very people who kept her there, and 
 she expressed her detestation of them, her eagerness to escape, her 
 anxiety to return to her father, in language which she thought the 
 most calculated to touch and affect her strange companion. But tjie 
 ear of the mind seemed stopped. Not a word did he utter in reply ; 
 not a movement took place in his limbs ; so still, so motionless he sat, 
 one might have thought it was some melancholy statue, and not a 
 living thing. More than once she made the same attempt in vain. At 
 length, however, a few minutes after the castle clock had struck ten, 
 Laura, convincing herself that he had lallen asleep, determined to 
 make an effort to pass him quietly, and escape by the door. Advancing 
 with a noiseless step, she had come within a single yard of the place 
 where he sat, M'hen, starting up with a wild laugh, he caught her by 
 the wrist, exclaiming : — 
 
 " Poor mouse I so you thought to get out of the trap ! But you 
 and I will escape together. You want to run away from them, do 
 you ? Well, you shall run far enough ; for I will not leave you till 
 you have gone five hundred miles ; far, far over the sea, where he can 
 never see you again, and then he'll marry her you know, and all will 
 be right. Come along, come along ;" and dragging her out through 
 the door, by the wrist, he led her through another, which opened out 
 into a sort of paved alley, which ran from the back of the castle to the 
 stable-yard. With a degree of cunning and caution far beyond what 
 might be expected even from a person in their senses, he paused and 
 looked round at every step, listened for every sound, and at the same 
 time kept whisi)ering to Laura : — " Not a word ! — not a word ! — not 
 a word I" 
 
 She, on her part, listened and looked around with equal anxiety, 
 hopeful of finding some means of deliverance, but it was all in vain 
 that she did so. Distant sounds, indeed, she heard, coming apparently 
 from the servants' hall, but they were too far off to give her any assu- 
 rance of obtaining assistance, even if she raised her own voice to cry 
 for help ; and gradually her wild companion drew her away from the 
 house, and into the park. 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha !" he cried, when they were actually under the first 
 clump of trees : " now we are free! — now we are free ! Go on before 
 me ; we will walk a hundred miles to-night. But if you attemi)t to 
 run away, woe be to you !'* 
 
27H THE COMailSSIONER ; OR, 
 
 Thus, on they went till, half-way across the park, Laura suddenly 
 perceived a female figure, under the trees. An exclamation of joy burst 
 from her lips ; but the madman cried, in a furious tone : — 
 
 " If you try to run a step, or say a word, I will knock you to pieces 
 in an instant !" and almost at the same moment, levelling a blow at the 
 person she had seen, and who had taken a step or two towards them, 
 he struck whoever it was to the earth, exclaiming : — 
 
 " I have killed her ! That is another of his women, and I will kill 
 them all except you — except you ; and you I'll marry myself !" 
 
 Poor Laura, however, could bear no more, and as he spoke, 
 exhausted with himger, fatigue, agitation and terror, she sunk fainting 
 down upon the path before him. 
 
 How long she remained in this state she could not tell, but she was 
 at length aroused, as if by a sudden shake, and on languidly opening 
 liQr eyes she found herself borne along, in the madman's arms, under 
 the park -wall of Outrun Castle, from the top of which, to say the truth 
 he had just leaped, having found the stile guarded, and the gate shut. 
 
 " Oh, let me go! — let me go 1" cried Laura. "I will walk — indeed 
 I will." 
 
 " You can't walk, poor lamb !" he replied in a gentle tone. " Besides, 
 the butchers are after you. I can carry you — I can carry you. I have 
 grown so strong I could carry the world. I pulled the iron bar out of 
 the window of the prison as if it had been a sapling twig !" 
 
 " I can walk, indeed," said Laura ; " and I will walk, too, if you 
 will let me." And after some persuasion she induced him to set her 
 down, and suffer her to walk along by his side, though he held her 
 tight by the wrist as they went. 
 
 His pace was painfully irregular to his fair companion ; sometimes 
 slow and thoughtful, sometimes so rapid that she could scarcely keep 
 up with him ; and thus they had passed the end of the park wall about 
 half-a-mile when the day began to dawn. To Laura those faint grey 
 streaks were a most joyful sight ; but they seemed to fill the madman 
 with terror. 
 
 " There is day !" he cried, " there is day ! We must hide ourselves, 
 or they will catch us j and then they will hang me, and marry you to 
 him. That will be very terrible, you know. Here — here's a place 
 where we can hide, and nobody will find us." 
 
 In that part of the country, as you know very well, dear reader, it 
 is a common custom to cut out a sort of lime-kiln in any chalky bank, 
 excavating the furnace in the mass of chalk, with an aperture at the 
 top, and the entrance door, supported by brickwork, at the side of the 
 road. The place to which the madman pointed was a large kiln of 
 this kind, apparently long disused, but there was one extraordinary 
 fact about it, which was, that the iron doorway had been left hanging 
 on its rusty hinges, even in England, a country where every body 
 thinks he has a right to take the property of his neighbour, provided 
 he can do so undetected. Into this strange and miserable abode the 
 madman forced Laura to enter, notwithstanding her entreaties and 
 rejr onstrances ; and, following her in himself, he drew the door to after 
 
DE LUNATICO IXQUIREXDO. 277 
 
 them. When this was accomplished, his mind seemed relieved from a 
 part of the terrors which daylight had apparently brought with it, and 
 sitting down he laughed gaily, saying : — 
 
 " Here, we can be comfortable." 
 
 As the daylight increased, he gazed eagerly and often in his fair 
 companion's face ; and, whether it was one of the strange variations 
 of madness, or that the sight of her beauty soothed and calmed him, 
 he fell into a gentler mood than he had hitherto displayed, and after 
 one of these fits of gazing bent down his head and wept profusely. 
 Laura thought that it was a happy moment, and she strove to persuade 
 him to let her go. 
 
 " You seem a kind-hearted man," she said : " Oh, do let me return 
 to my father. Think what a terrible thing it must be for him not to 
 know what has become of me, and to be anxious every moment of his 
 life about me." 
 
 " Ay, I know — I know," cried the man, in a sad and solemn tone. 
 " Do you tell me what it is to be anxious every moment about a 
 daughter? Don't you know who I am? Don't you know the whole 
 story ?" 
 
 " No, indeed," replied Laura, alarmed at the knitting of his brows, 
 and the tone in which he spoke ; " no, indeed I do not know. What 
 has happened to you ?" 
 
 " I will tell you — I will tell you," he answered. " I was a very 
 happy man once, a very happy man, indeed. I had just enough to 
 live upon, and a wife that I loved better than any thing on earth, 
 except my daughter, and a daughter that I loved better than any thing 
 in earth or in heaven. — Never you love your daughter too much, it's a 
 sin and a folly. — I loved nothing but those two, they were all the world 
 to me, and when I lost them there was nothing left for me to love at all." 
 
 " Oh, dear," said Laura, " 1 am very sorry for you." 
 
 " Are you ?" said the man. " That's kind of you — that's very kind. 
 You are the only person that's been very sorry for me for a hundred 
 years." 
 
 He paused for a minute or two, as if in thought, and Laura 
 asked : — 
 
 " Did they both die, then ?" 
 
 " No, no," cried the man ; " I wish they had — I wish they had, and 
 I too ; that would have been pleasant. No, they didn't both die ; my 
 wife, she died, but she was a long while ill ; she that was so pretty, 
 she withered away, day by day, but she was pretty and dear to the 
 last. Poor thing ! God took her, and I was ungrateful. I thought I 
 should have gone mad when she died, but then I had my daughter, and 
 all the love that had been her mother's came to her — it was her right, 
 you know ; it was the only thing her mother had to leave her — a poor 
 inheritance, God wot — but yet a father's love is something. Ay, but 
 then came the worst time of all. I saw the girl was unhappy, and I 
 thought it was for her mother, and I tried to comfort her ; and I 
 would look so cheerful you cannot think, when my very heart was 
 breaking. — Ay, that's what it is that makes men go mad, looking 
 hjsppy and speaking gaily when they have got the grave in their heart. 
 
278 THE COMMISSIONEB ; OR, 
 
 But it doesn't matter — it's all the same thing. Did you ever read the 
 Bible ?" 
 
 « To be sure I have," replied Laura. 
 
 "Well, then," continued her companion, "do you remember the 
 story of the rich man and the poor one, and how the rich one took 
 the poor one's ewe lamb, that lay in his bosom, and was unto him as a 
 daughter ; and what David said when he heard it ? — Ha, ha ! this foul 
 monster comforts himself in his wickedness, and thinks himself safe, 
 because he lives in a fine castle, and because the father, whose child 
 he wronged, seems too pitiful in his eyes to reach him ; but I say with 
 David, * As the Lord liveth, the man that hath done this thing shall 
 surely die.' — Ay, I will tear his heart in pieces, as I tore the fowl. — 
 But what makes you turn so white ? I will not hurt you. You abhor 
 him, too, don't you ?" 
 
 " Oh, that I do," replied Laura, earnestly. Although she did not 
 comprehend the whole of the man's story, yet the facts came glim- 
 mering through the obscurity of his wild speech, and showed her that 
 wrongs as well as sorrows had driven him mad. " Oh, that I do," she 
 replied ; " but it was not fear that made me turn pale, but I am faint 
 from fatigue, and with hunger, too, for I have not tasted any thing 
 since ten o'clock yesterday morning." 
 
 The man put his two hands to his head, exclaiming : — 
 
 " Not tasted any thing I How's that — how's that ? You're a good 
 girl, and you're sorry for me, and abhor him as I hate him. Oh, I'll 
 get you a nice breakfast ; you shall have sweet water-cresses from the 
 brook. I know where it runs. You shall have tliem directly. — No- 
 body can call that stealing. I'll go and fetch them — I'll go and fetch 
 them," and away he darted. No thought had he to shut or fasten the 
 door of the kiln. Indeed he could not have made it secure, for it was 
 without either lock or bolt, and the moment he was gone, Laura started 
 up with a trembling step and approached it. Her heart beat wildly, 
 the prospect of liberty was before her, and yet she had scarcely 
 strength to make use of the opportunity. She paused a moment, 
 hesitating and calculating how far the madman would have to go. She 
 had seen no brook as they had passed along, so that she could 
 not even divine the distance ; but, at all events, she determined 
 to make the attempt. By this time there must be people near, 
 she thought, who would hear her cries, and aid her — husbandmen 
 labouring in the fields, or going to their work, and after waiting for 
 about two minutes, she bent down and crept through the narrow door. 
 The next moment she stood in the open road, and gazed to the right 
 and left. No human being was to be seen, and climbing up a little 
 path, which seemed to have been made in former days by the frequent 
 steps of the lime-burners, she reached the top of tl)e bank and once 
 more looked around. Not a soul was near, but she heard some one 
 whistling lightly in the distance, and, looking in that direction, she 
 saw the spire of a little church. It was a blessed sight to her at that 
 moment, and darting across the corner of a fallow field that lay before 
 her, she reached a path which wound away in the direction of th© 
 village. 
 
DB LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 279 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 MAOKMOISELI-E BROCHET FALLS OUT OF THE FBYINO-PAIC INTO THB FHtH— > 
 
 HOW TO MTSTIFT A JUSTICE PRISON RECREATIONS JOKT's DISCOVERIES— 
 
 A PROPOSAL. 
 
 Jones the curate, Mr. Alderman Rotundity, Mr. Deputy Popeseye, 
 three or four young squires, and one or two country justices, aided the 
 Chevalier de Luuatico and Harry Worrel in seeing what was the mat- 
 ter ; while the whole party of ladies, alarmed by the noise and the 
 sudden exit of the gentlemen, remained within, ready to scream or faint 
 as the case might be ; and Miss Rotundity, who was really not coura- 
 geous notwithstanding her scientific pursuits, looked with tender con- 
 fidence at the legs of the mastodon, as a place of retreat in case of 
 danger. 
 
 "Ah, mon Dieu!" cried Mademoiselle Brochet; "how happy I 
 was to see everybody. Meester Worrell, I vairy glad you come ; do 
 aidez me out of dis trap. I have got one vairy imcoamfortable situa- 
 tion. Ah, chevalier ! mon cher chevalier ! I be excessively pinch.'* 
 
 " Why, goodness me !" cried Mr. Rotimdity, " this is the young 
 lady who brought me news of your pretty daughter, Longmore. But 
 how came you here, ma'amselle ? But let me set you free ;" and put- 
 ting his foot upon the spring of the trap, Mr. Rotundity exclaimed — 
 " Remove fera monstra!'' and Joey Pike skipped out of the trap de- 
 lighted. 
 
 " Yees," cried Miss Brochet, "yees, my cher Rotundity, I come tell 
 you of pretty Miss Laura — I promise to come again to-night. But 
 you see I have been persecuted — I have run, torn my gown, scratch 
 my beautiful leg, and undertaken all manner of distress." 
 
 " Why, bless me!" cried young Jones the curate, holding a light 
 close to Miss Brochet's face, " you seem, ma'am, to have got a marvel- 
 lous stiff" beard for a young lady. Methinks you have forgot to shave 
 yourself this morning." 
 
 "Ah! pretty woman vil sometimes have de light, delicate mous- 
 tache," replied Miss Brochet, blushing deeply. 
 
 " Yes; but here's beard as well as moustache," replied the curate, 
 looking through his spectacles. " Why, alderman, this is a man dressed 
 up in woman's clothes ! If his hair were not flaxen his chin would be 
 like a blacking-brush." 
 
 The Chevalier de Lunatico now perceived that further concealment, 
 at least as far as sex, was all in vain ; and, with the usual decision and 
 promptitude which he displayed, he stepped forward, saying — 
 
 ** Hush, my good sir, to use a term that you understand, being con- 
 nected with your profession, there is more upon the cards than you 
 
280 THE commissiois:er ; oe, 
 
 know of. You had better go home to your wife, and prepare for the 
 journey you have got to take. My dear alderman," he continued, while 
 young Jones slmik away, " this lady, as your clerical friend has ob- 
 served, is a gentleman : it is my servant, in short, whom I sent down 
 here for the express purpose of making discoveries in regard to fair 
 Laura Longmore and other matters." 
 
 " Ay," cried rash Joey Pike, " and discoveries enough I have made. 
 I vrill relate them all organo ; but the first disclosure shall be of myself," 
 and off he pulled cap, bonnet, and wig, exposing to the eyes of admiring 
 spectators the graceful head of Joey Pike issuing out of a delicate 
 French collar and pelerine. 
 
 Rash Joey ! rash Joey I to what perils do'st thou expose thyself ! 
 Hadst thou remained enveloped in fal£>e curls, and lace, and silk, though 
 all might detect thee by thy beard for a man, no one would have disco- 
 vered what a man thou art. There was no aecessity for it either, Joey ; 
 for the chevalier's cautious, but well-timed, acknowledgment of thee 
 saved thee from all responsibility. It was an act of needless candour, 
 of unnecessary generosity, towards thine opponents. Thou must be a 
 Tory, Joey Pike ; thou must be a Tory. I wonder thou are not in 
 the cabinet ! 
 
 The moment hat and wig were gone, a young squireling exclaimed — 
 
 " Why, hang it — upon my honour it's Joey Pike, the waiter at the 
 Half Moon!" 
 
 " He's soon going to be waiter at the whole one," said the Chevalier 
 de Lunatico. " But I think we had better bring him into the house, 
 and hear something of the wonderful discoveries he has made ; and, 
 besides, he seems exhausted, torn, and in a very lamentable condition. 
 I know my friend the alderman has too much kindness of heart to 
 refuse him rest and refreshment under such circumstances." 
 
 " Assuredly, assuredly," cried Alderman Rotundity. " ' Hoe 
 maximb officii estj ut quisque maxime opis indigeat, ita ei potissimum 
 opitulariJ"' 
 
 " But," said one of those gentlemen called justices of peace, whose 
 name, by the way, is a sad misnomer, as their operations, nine times out 
 of ten, in their beginning, their course, and their result, have nothing to 
 do with peace in the world — " but, Mr. Alderman Rotundity, I fear this 
 here is a bad business ; for that there fellow, Joey Pike, has a warrant out 
 against him for the murder of old Scapulary ; and the magistrate's pocket- 
 book says, that, in a case of felony, every one becomes a constable, 
 and ought to take the villain up." 
 
 " I deny that," said young Jones the curate, who by this time had 
 crept back again to the party, and could not resist the spirit of hoax 
 that was in him — " I deny tiiat, Mr. Puddenstream ; for how can a 
 magistrate become a constable, which is an inferior office ? No, my 
 dear sir, you remain always a justice of peace, and have no right to 
 take any cognizance whatsoever of the greatest felon in all the world, 
 even if he had cut your own throat the moment before, unless he be 
 brought before you on information on oath. That's the law, I take it, 
 alderman. Blackstone does indeed say that in certain cases, such as 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 281 
 
 the present, every man becomes a constable; but that means every 
 common man, of course : and very inconvenient it sometimes is ; for 
 where there are only two people present, a felon and another man, as 
 the felon becomes a constable too, they have mutually to take up each 
 other ; and if the felon happens to be the strongest, he, of course, 
 carries the day. It's the law of the land, I can assure you, chevalier." 
 
 " I dare say it is," replied the chevalier, " for it sounds very like 
 nonsense ; and I have remarked a tendency that way in some of your 
 laws before.*' 
 
 Mr. Jones held his tongue ; for he found it less pleasant to hoax the 
 chevalier than any other person he had met for a long while, and the 
 clear, grey, sarcastic twinkle of the great diplomatist's eye gave warn- 
 ing that he was always ready to return shot for shot. 
 
 " Well, gentlemen," continued the chevalier, " as it is now night, 
 and the moon is not yet up, we cannot see clearly into the matter here, 
 and therefore had better, perhaps, go in. We shall soon hear my 
 friend Joey's account of liimself, and then we can deal with the matter 
 as may be thought fit." 
 
 " As to that matter," said a voice close by, " I shall deal with un 
 first," and at the same time a great, broad hand grasped Miss Brochet's 
 arm. " We have got a warrant against thee, my dear ; so you mun 
 come along with we." 
 
 " Stay, stay," said the chevalier. 
 
 " Stay, stay," said Harry Worrell. 
 
 " No I woan't," said the constable. " What should I stay for, mas- 
 ter?" 
 
 " Because you are bound to take him before the nearest magistrate," 
 replied Harry Worrel, " and there are three here present." 
 
 " Is that the law ?" asked the learned constable with a broad stare. 
 " I thought I had to take un to gaol." 
 
 " Oh, it's the law, it's the law," cried Mr. Jones, who was anxious to 
 hear all that Joey Pike had to say; and having removed into the dining- 
 room of Rotundity Court, the magistrates and their friends took up 
 their position on one side of the table, while Joey and the constable 
 appeared on the other. 
 
 " Give him a chair," said Mr. Longmore. " By standing too long 
 upright the muscular fibre becomes contracted, the atoms are pressed 
 one upon the other, a derangement of the relative positions take place, 
 the poles become inverted, or, at all events, dislocated, and those 
 changes are produced in the animal economy which ultimately lead to 
 the unnatural and unnecessary consequences of sickness and death." 
 
 " Give him a slice of venison and a glass of wine," said Mr. Deputy 
 Popeseye. " Keep a good heart, young man, and fill your belly when- 
 ever you can. That's the way both to have a long life and a merry 
 one. My good friend the chevalier here would not stand by you, I'm 
 sure, if you had committed a murder ; so we'll see you taken care of, 
 and you shan't want for meat and drink in the prison if I have any say 
 in the matter." 
 
 " It's all nonsense together," said Harry Worrel, " there's nobody in 
 
282 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 the whoxe county, from the coroner down to the cow-keeper, who sus- 
 pects Joey of any thing like murder ; and here the chevalier and I can 
 prove that he was in quite a different place at the time that this act was 
 committed." 
 
 " That has nothing whatever to do with it, I tell ye," cried Justice 
 Puddenstream. " That there man was murdered, that's clear enough ; 
 this here man's accused of it, that's clear enough; and so he must go 
 to prison." 
 
 " Pray how long must he stay ?" said the chevalier. 
 
 " Why, I can't tell that," replied Justice Puddenstream ; " maybe six 
 weeks or more. I forget when the 'sizes are." 
 
 "And pray how will he amuse himself?" said tne chevalier. 
 
 " Why, he may walk about the yard with the other felons," said the 
 justice, " and he may write his name upon the wall, and all that." 
 
 " And if he is found innocent," said the chevalier, " the country, of 
 course, makes him a large compensation for long imprisonment and six 
 weeks' condemnation to the society of felons." 
 
 " Pooh — nonsense !" cried Mr. Puddenstream ; " he may think him- 
 self devilish well off he isn't tucked up ; and the judge will tell him 
 when he quits the court that he must look upon himself as fortunate in 
 the issue of the trial, and that the warning he has received ought to 
 have a great effect on his future life and conversation." 
 
 " So that, in short, he will go out of court an innocent man, having 
 suffered the punishment you inflict upon various serious offences, 
 though he had done nothing to merit it, having had his morals conta- 
 minated by association with criminals, and his reputation blasted by 
 the insinuations of his judge ?" 
 
 " Something like it, I am afraid," said Mr. Alderman Rotundity. 
 " Judges will make awkward speeches, that they had better let alone, 
 as well as other men. ' Nemo omnibus horis sapitJ " 
 
 " But what's all that to us ? what's all that to us ?" cried Mr. Pud- 
 denstream. " We've nothing to do with all that. All that we've got to 
 do is, to commit a man when he's brought before us for a felony, to 
 punish poachers, and fine fellows five shillings for being drunk. 
 That's a magistrate's business, and plenty of it there is too." 
 
 " May I ask," said the chevalier in an insinuating tone, " who it is 
 that appoints the magistrates in this county ?" 
 
 " The Lord Lieutenant to be sure," replied the justice. "Who should 
 appoint them but the Lord Lieutenant ? He asked me particularly 
 to take that onerous and responsible ofl^ice, as he called it, upon 
 myself." 
 
 " He was sure you would do honour to the bench," said the cheva- 
 lier; " and so much do I respect him, that I will beg you to present 
 him with this little note of invitation the first time you see him. If the 
 people in my country displayed as much care and discrimination in 
 selecting their magistrates there, we should not be so riotous a crew 
 as we are I dare say." 
 
 " T hanky, sir; thanky," said the justice, pocketting the billet; "and 
 now we had better commit this fellow." 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 283 
 
 " Not till you*ve heard him I suppose, and the charge too," said the 
 chevalier. 
 
 " No, no ; let us hear him, let us hear him," cried some of the other 
 magistrates. " What do you charge him with, constable ?" 
 
 " Why, as to charging un," replied the constable, " that's no business 
 of mine you know. He's been charged enoff already I fancy. I wash 
 my hands o' that. I was sent to teak un where I could find un, not to 
 charge him. Ye must manage that amongst ye ; that's not my job.'* 
 
 This new difficulty might have turned to Joey's advantage, but Joey 
 Pike, like Joey Hume, was smitten with an irresistible desire of dis- 
 tinguishing himself in oratory, and, like that distinguished impediment 
 to all legislation, his oratory often got him into a scrape. By this time 
 he was refreshed with meat and wine, and, rising with dignity, he flou- 
 rished his left hand, and laid his right upon his heart." 
 
 " I am charged," he said, " with murder. I own it." 
 
 " Oh," said Mr. Puddenstream, " he is charged with murder, and he 
 ciwns it. That's quite enough I think. He pleads guilty — he stands 
 committed." 
 
 " No, no, he does not," cries another magistrate ; " he pleads no 
 such thing. What he owned was, that he stood charged with murder." 
 
 " Do you call me a fool, sir ?" said Mr. Puddenstream. 
 
 " I did not call you one, whatever I might think," replied the other 
 magistrate ; and how far this petty quarrel might have gone, nobody 
 can tell ; but Mr. Alderman Rotundity interposed, exclaiming — " Gen- 
 tlemen, gentlemen, let us hear what the prisoner has to say." 
 
 " Oh, I will hear any thing," cried Puddenstream, " but I won't be 
 called a fool." 
 
 " Well, now, Joey, speak," said the alderman. " You have stated 
 the charge against yourself. Have you any thing to say against it ?'* 
 
 " Simply this, most learned alderman," replied Joey Pike — " that it 
 is false, because it is impossible. First, it is morally impossible, be- 
 cause it is not in my nature to commit murder ; secondly, it is physi- 
 cally impossible, because no man can be in two places at once. Then, 
 again, it is false, because I did not do it ; and, thirdly, it is false, be- 
 cause another did. Each of these assertions I can prove, illustrissimi 
 signori, if you will only permit me to do so. In the first place, I have 
 said it is not true, because it is impossible. Now, there are two 
 honourable gentlemen here present, whose veracity is not to be 
 doubted who can show that I was with them at the very time this mur- 
 der must have been committed." 
 
 " I say, Joey," interposed the constable, "wawn't you seen a-com- 
 ing out of the house just afore the murder wur found out ?" 
 
 ** No," replied Joey boldly, " for, I first found it out. It was a 
 great discovery of my own — not so wonderful as some of Mr. Long- 
 more's discoveries, but still no less true." 
 
 This was a very happy hit which made another friend upon the bench. 
 Mr. Longmore bowed his head benignly, and Joey proceeded to tell 
 
 the tale of his adventures on that morning, beginning with the words 
 
 ** I had been fighting a duel !" 
 
284 THE COMMISSIONER *, OR, 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha I he had been fighting a duel," cried Mr. Deputy 
 Popeseye. " What a fool he must be if it's true ! what a liar he must 
 be if it's not 1 An awkward beast, a dilemma, Joey, with those two 
 horns of its. Been fighting a duel ! ha, ha !" 
 
 Worrel explained, and corroborated Joey's statement, which was 
 also confirmed by the chevalier ; but, nevertheless, as so frequently 
 happens, Mr. Popeseye's laugh had greatly damaged Joey Pike's cause ; 
 and the magistrates having made up their minds to send him off to 
 prison immediately, only listened to him farther in order to find matter 
 for the confirmation of their own opinion. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Puddenstream, " this is all very fine, gentlemen ; 
 but for my part I think an honest man always acts like an honest man ; 
 and I must say that to go about the country masquerading in petticoats 
 in this manner is not like an honest man." 
 
 " Nor an honest woman, either," said Sir Deputy Popeseye : " ha, ha, ha !" 
 "Pray, what did you do that for, sir ?" said Puddenstream. 
 Joey Pike was agitated and overcome : he felt slightly hysterical ; 
 he could bear any thing but a laugh : the idea of being laughed at was 
 to him worse than the thumb-screw or the rack. With a surprising 
 effort, however, of mind and resolution, he swallowed the egg that was 
 rising in his throat, and waving his hand, exclaimed — 
 
 " I see my case is prejudged. What did I come here for in petti- 
 coats, do you ask me ? Pour chercher la verite — and I have found 
 it ! Yes — I have discovered the murderer : he who caused the morto 
 of poor Toby Scapulary has developed himself to my ojos. I can 
 prove it upon him — I can demonstrate that he is coupahle^ and not 
 your umilissimo servo. Nay more, not only murder have I discovered, 
 but rhapsody. To me you owe — to me alone — the knowledge of where 
 
 fair Laura Longmore is confined " 
 
 " Ay, that's true enough," said Mr. Alderman Rotundity ; " and I 
 will take care that you shall have the credit of it, Joey. You shall 
 not have to say — '■sic vos non vohisy ^c' " 
 
 " I can tell you who are they whose brutal malice and pervers corn- 
 plots carried her off from her burning father's house," continued Joey 
 Pike. 
 
 " Who, who ?" demanded Harry Worrel, starting up with his fist 
 clenched, as if he would have knocked^down the phantom that Joey's 
 words called up. 
 
 " Sit down, Harry, sit down," cried Mr. Longmore ; " I will knock 
 them down myself. Wlio, Joey — who ?" 
 
 " The race of Outrun," screamed Joey, in a high soprano — " the 
 race of Outrun — sono i traditori." 
 
 Every man looked in his neighbour's face with horror and astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " Ah !" continued Joey Pike, shaking and mouthing like Mr. Ma- 
 cready in Richelieu — " all ! sad is my fate, and terrible my lot, to have 
 to accuse my own kindred— to cast a stain upon my race— to blacken 
 my own blood— that I, that I of all men should have to accuse the race 
 of Outrun." 
 
 M 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 285 
 
 " The man's mad," said Mr. Longmore. " VVlial the deuce have 
 you to do with the race of Outrun, Joey ?" 
 
 " Ay, there's the third great discovery," continued Joey, drawing 
 forth a pocket handkerchief with a small edging of lace, and wijing 
 Ills eyes, for he had moved himself to tears ; " ay, there's the third 
 discovery — I myself am a child of the race of Outrun. Was my 
 mother ever known, oh, egregious Longmore? Did you ever hear 
 my father's name, oh, potent Puddenstream ? Is it in the register of 
 your parish, grave and reverend Jones ? No, no ; Fitzurse is tlie 
 name I ought to bear ; and I can prove it too by proofs irrefragable. 
 Was I not bred up in the house in early youth ? Was not the daughter 
 of that house long absent from her home ? Did not she die in a dark, 
 mysterious manner in the state chamber of Outrun Castle ? Can any 
 one behold her picture and my face and yet refrain to cry — there is the 
 mother, there is the son ? Besides, have I not a letter — ay, an inter- 
 cei)ted letter from Jeremiah Tripe — him of the ruby nose — to Widow 
 Scapulary, seeking the certificate of my mother's marriage :" 
 
 Joey spoke all this with an emotion and an emphasis that it is im- 
 possible to describe. He had studied his attitudes from the picture 
 of Brutus condemning his sons ; and he had nearly thrown his shoulder 
 out of joint in the effort to stretch out his arm like a French Roman. 
 It must be acknowledged, too, that the effect he produced was 
 profound. 
 
 " This must be inquired into,** said Mr. Longmore. " I recollect a 
 good deal of strange matter about that time, and rumours that didn't 
 do to talk about ; but it must be inquired into." 
 
 " Let inquiry be made," replied Joey Pike ; " it is all that I desire : 
 I, for my own part, can prove all my assertions. I am willing at any 
 moment to set my face by the side of that fair countenance and say, 
 with the famed Prince of Denmark, ' Look here upon this picture, and 
 on that."* 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Jones with a sly smile, " and the reply might be 
 from the same author — * Hyperion to a Satyr.* '* 
 
 " Then I have the letter,*' continued Joey Pike. 
 
 " Pray let me look at it," said the Chevalier de Lunatico. 
 
 " There, most respected knight," replied Joey, " I know you to be a 
 proo chevalier, and I can trust to your discretion. Take, read, and 
 mark it ; you will see tliat he speaks of the marriage certificate — * The 
 marriage certificate,' " continued Joey reading from the letter, " ' which 
 your husband, defunk, always kepp in his grey breeches pocket. Poor 
 man I wonder what always made him wear grey breeches :' and so do 
 I," proceeded Joey ; " but a fact's a fact — grey breeches he did wear, 
 and in those breeches was deposited, besides the nether man of Sca- 
 pulaire " 
 
 " Joey, Joey," cried the chevalier, " you are getting into verse. 
 But here is the undoubted fact," he continued as he took the letter and 
 looked through the contents — " here is the undoubted fact of a marriage 
 certificate being inquired after which this old man apparently used to 
 carry always in his breeches pocket. But what is the link of connec- 
 tion between this letter and yourself, Joe\ ?" 
 
286 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 " Why he certainly was brought up at Outrun Castle," said Mr. 
 Longmore, " and there were strange reports about that time." 
 
 " I was," said Joey, waving his hand gracefully and assuming the 
 pathetic — " I was reputed to be what the people in London called 
 a fondling, though heaven knows few are they who fondle them — an 
 enfang troavy ; or as the Spaniards, most poetically, call it a Hijo 
 de lapiedra, a son of the stone, for stony must be that father's heart 
 who could thus expose a child. Such, however, I was reputed to be : 
 some said even, and confidently affirmed, that I was related to old 
 Scapulary himself; but still I was brought up in Outrun Castle, and 
 did odd jobs for all men, till about twelve years ago, when applying 
 for some information regarding my fate and history, and delicately 
 liinting to the noble lord that I thought myself a greater man than 
 cruel circumstances suffered to appear, his lordship reached his hand 
 to a stag's horn in the great hall, and drawing down a horsewhip 
 flanked me out of the chief door. Most indignantly I stalked away, 
 resolved never to be beholden to that hand again, even for a penny roll, 
 till I could claim it as a right. Little did I hope when I returned to 
 Outrun Castle for the purpose of setting free Laura Longmore — little 
 did I hope, I say, that I should find the proofs of those rights which 1 
 do now possess." 
 
 " But did you set her free ?" exclaimed Mr. Longmore, more inte- 
 rested in the fate of his own progeny than in the ancestors of Joey 
 Pike. " Did you set her free, Joey ?" 
 
 " Alas, no I" answered Joey Pike, and the face of Harry Worrel — 
 as when a schoolboy promised to be taken to fair or show, to sport or 
 game with but the one condition, that the weather shall be fine, looks 
 up with anxious eyes unto the cloudy sky, while the dull vapours drift 
 along it thick, and sparrows chirp portentous, and he beholds a sudden 
 rent in the gloomy canopy above, and forth pours the sun, brighten- 
 ing for a moment all the scene around, but instantly after the clouds close 
 again, and all is darker than before, while the slow drops of rain begin 
 to patter down — so was the countenance of Harry Worrel, illuminated 
 for a moment by the bright rays of hope, but overshadowed again 
 instantly by the reply of Joey, " Alas, no !" said Joey Pike, " I was 
 frustrated. But to speak again of my proofs " 
 
 " Well, well — but we have nothing to do with that," cried Brutus 
 Puddenstream, who stuck to his point like a rusty weathercock, or an 
 old Roman. " What we have to do is, to commit him. That's our 
 business, I take it. You see, gentlemen, that there man is accused of 
 the murder of old Scapulary ; a warrant is out for his apprehension, 
 and " 
 
 " And we must remand him for further examination," said Mr. 
 Longmore. " Here is but one suspicious circumstance that I can hear 
 alleged against him ; here is the testimony of two honourable gentle- 
 men to set against that circumstance ; here is the uniformly good cha- 
 racter which the young man has borne, and to which the one half of 
 the people here present can testify." 
 
 " Ay, he always was a good cretur," cried the constable. " We 
 thought un a little light in the head, but no harm in un." 
 
DE LUNATICO INftUIRENDO. 287 
 
 Joey Pike would rather have been committed a thousand times than 
 have undergone sucli a speech ; but Mr. Longmore went on — " and I, 
 as one of the magistrates here present, will not consent to a good and 
 respectable young man being sent to the common prison, where he has 
 no means of carrying on his observations, making his calculations, or 
 any of those processes in which the human mind delights, till we have 
 stronger proof against him than we have at present." 
 
 " No, no," cried several of the other gentlemen present ; " remand 
 him, remand him." 
 
 Mr. Puddenstream found that he was in the minority ; but none of the 
 family of the Puddenstreams ever yield with a good grace ; and be it 
 said, that very often, in this world, they carry their point against the con- 
 viction and conscience of other people, simply by a dogged adherence to 
 a wrong opinion. In this instance he made a strong fight of it : and one 
 would have thought that Joey Pike had murdered him himself, so 
 eager was he to commit him. Even when the question was carried 
 against him, and the prisoner was remanded, he declared that he cast 
 the responsibility from his own shoulders, and held the other magis- 
 trates answerable for any consequences that might ensue. Joey, how- 
 ever, was not committed in spite of all he could say ; and Mr. Rotun- 
 dity, ordering out his own phaeton, sent him off in custody of the 
 constable, with a recommendation to have him treated well and ten- 
 derly. 
 
 " And now," continued the worthy alderman, " let us rejoin the 
 ladies ; for we left them in most admired disorder, and doubtless they 
 are in a dreadful state of anxiety to know all that has taken place." 
 
 " Oh dear, no," said Mr. Jones : " I looked in a minute ago, and 
 they were quite comfortable, I can assure you. My fair friend. Miss 
 Serpentaria, was descanting on the aitch bone of a Mastodon, and all 
 the rest of the party were asleep, except the lady who took three 
 glasses of cura9oa after her coffee, and she was counting up the ace 
 of spades. She made foiu* of it ; but what game she fancied herself 
 playing at, I don't know." 
 
 *' Why, where are you going to ride to to-night, my dear young 
 friend ?" said Mr. Alderman Rotundity, to whom Harry Worrel had 
 been speaking in a low voice. "I'll lend you a horse with a great deal 
 of pleasure ; but " 
 
 " It's not to be done, Harry," said Mr. Longmore. " I know what 
 he's going to be about. He's going to set off for Outrun Castle, and 
 there will be more blood spilt. Have I not promised you my daughter, 
 Harry ? and that's enough. Leave me to find her." 
 
 " There's been very little blood spilt as yet, my dear sir, replied 
 Harry Worrel: "for that young rascal, Fitzurse, is alive and well, 
 and " 
 
 Here the chevalier stepped in not feeling particularly sure how Mr. 
 Longmore's resolutions in favour of his friend might be affected by the 
 news of Mr. Fitzurse's resuscitation. He therefore finished Harry 
 W^orrel's sentence, thus : " and Lord Outrun and his son, feeling very 
 sure you would never consent to her marriage with the latter, when 
 you discovered what a blackguard and a swindler he is, carried off 
 
288 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 your daughter for the purpose of compelling her to wed him against 
 your will and her own too." 
 
 " I'll prosecute them," cried Mr. Longmore — " FlI prosecute them 
 for abduction. I'll call my new, wonderful discovery for blowing up a 
 whole fleet with a pistol shot — I'll call it " Frederick Fitzurse" instead 
 of " Longmore's infernal machine," as I intended to term it ; and I'll 
 "burn down Outrun Castle with my patent magnifying, multiplying glass, 
 which is exactly the same instrument wherewith Archimedes burned 
 the fleet in the port of Syracuse." 
 
 " Well, at all events, wait till to-morrow morning," said the che- 
 valier ; " perhaps we may hear something of Laura by that time. I 
 rather suspect, indeed, that we shall ; but if not " 
 
 " Why, then, let us all proceed against Outrun Castle in a body,'* 
 cried Mr. Alderman Rotundity, who was in a state of some excitement, 
 — " if we do not hear of the young lady by eight o'clock to-morrow, 
 let us all march in battle array, summon the castle to surrender, and 
 take it by storm." 
 
 " Agreed, agreed, agreed !'* cried all parties present — " agreed, 
 agreed, agreed !" 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 289 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 THE VISCOUNT SINKS INTO POETRY THE HEIR S RKTDRN I.ITEBABr FBI£NDS— A 
 
 KECOGNITION THE POE TAND HIS AUDIENCE. 
 
 It was eight o'clock at night — generally a very jovial hour in Outrun 
 Castle — and once more the viscount and Tom Hamilton were seated at 
 dinner. The noble lord of the mansion, during the course of the day, 
 as the reader well knows, had had his trials, to speak in the language 
 of a widow who has buried three husbands ; and he had been unusually 
 desponding and low-spirited towards evening. Whether it was the 
 effect of his encounter with the maids — a cook's revenge — the escape 
 of Laura — or the ineffectual pursuit — or all, or any two or three 
 together of these great movers to melancholy, of course we cannot tell ; 
 but the fact is so, that the right honourable peer, to use a very homely, 
 but expressive country phrase, looked as sad as a wet hen. There was 
 something cheering, however, in the sound of the dinner bell. He 
 looked up from his toilet-table and smiled; the pimples of his face 
 acquired a brighter hue, for they had been rather blue ; and parody- 
 ing the beautiful lines of our sweet Irish bard, he murmured to 
 himself — 
 
 " That evening bell, that evening bell. 
 How many a tale its tinklings tell 
 Of soup and fish, and that sweet kour. 
 When it invites men to devour. 
 
 *• What dinners I have ate before, 
 What dishes I shall eat no more ; 
 And where they are gone to, who can tell, 
 Who hears that tinkling dinner bell. 
 
 ** Tongue, turkey, salmi, mayennoise, 
 ■ Veal casserole, and a la braise. 
 
 Though sweet the past, will do as well 
 
 To honour thee, sweet dinner bell." 
 
 The reader will at once perceive that the viscount was by nature of 
 a poetical temperament. He was, indeed, a flower which had been 
 doomed to blush unseen, and waste its sweetness on the desert air ; 
 but who can doubt that if the cultivating hand had been bestowed, his 
 genius would have produced many as sweet and graceful a composition, 
 many as strong and vigorous an effusion, as flows from the ruby point 
 of Moore's bird-of-paradise feather — from the less soft, but no less 
 
 C. — NO. X. U 
 
290 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 enchanting quills of Reade, Harvey, and Alfred Tennyson — or even 
 those dulcet strains that distil amongst the blood and garbage that 
 occupy the rest of his poetical and anatomical mind, from the steel pen 
 of Mr. Coroner Wakley ? We may be permitted to lament that his 
 genius had not been fostered in this particular line, but nevertheless, he 
 felt within himself that glow of satisfaction on the present occasion, 
 which every poet feels, when he has committed a piece of verse ; and 
 although he had been rather depressed by the events of the morning, 
 yet, as a poetical friend assured us one day, when he had just lost his 
 wife, and written her epitaph, " his little muse consoled him." 
 
 Thus, with an easy and a jaunty step, as easy and as jaunty as his 
 corporation would suffer it to be, he descended to the drawing-room, 
 where Tom Hamilton was already waiting and hungry; and they 
 proceeded together into the chamber appropriated for the great pursuit 
 of human life. Some fine trout were on the table, of Tom's catching ; 
 the soup was carrot, and inimitable ; some of the especial Madeira 
 accompanied the two ; and the peer and his companion lingered in fond 
 dalliance over these sweet pabula for the space of half an hour. As 
 Jerry Tripe with one hand removed the soup, and turned it over to the 
 footman behind, however, a rush of wheels was heard, and one of those 
 vehicles classically denominated " a yellow," which, like the tomb, seems 
 destined at one time or another to receive all the living, rushed past 
 the windows of the dining-room, and stopped opposite the great 
 doors. 
 
 " Why, who the devil's that, Tom ?" exclaimed the viscount. 
 
 " It must be Fitzurse," replied Tom Hamilton, sipping his Madeira. 
 " Give me a patty, if you please, Mr. Tripe." 
 
 " Nonsense," cried the peer ; " Freddy does not come to his funeral 
 till to-morrow." 
 
 But even as he spoke, a servant threw open the door, announcing 
 Mr. Jonas Fitzurse ; and in walked a personage in a mourning suit, 
 with immense whiskers, and a quantity of hair of a very peculiar tint 
 of black. Now every one knows that ladies, when they charge a 
 gentleman to buy them some black silk — do not let the reader think that 
 the writer is descending from the high and sublime style so befitting a 
 work of this gravity, and approaching the limits of the dark kingdom 
 of bathos, by entering into such details, for the matter is one of great 
 importance — but when ladies do so, we say, they tell you that you must 
 bring them either a blue black or a black black. Now the hair and 
 whiskers of Mr. Jonas Fitzurse were neither the one nor the other. It 
 was a purple black, and well it might be ; for to keep the reader no 
 longer in suspense, it was produced by Tyrian dye. So great was the 
 change, however, which had been wrought in the Honourable Henry 
 Frederick Augustus Fitzurse, by a well-cut suit of respectable 
 mourning, a white cravat, and dyed hair, that for a moment the father 
 did not know his son, and began to be in a great fright lest he should 
 really have some relations he had never heard of. A slight depression 
 of Tom Hamilton's right eye-lid, however, and an elevation of the 
 arched and speaking eyebrow, gave the peer the hint ; and forgettinp- 
 
' ^ "'ut^y-'' y7^d€^ ly/yt-'z/^'J. 
 
DE LTJNATICO INQUIRENDO. 291 
 
 that one or two servants were in the room, who were ignorant of their 
 young master's resuscitation, he started up, exclaiming — 
 
 " Why, Freddy, my boy, you may well call yourself Jonas, for you 
 must have been three days in a whale's belly, and got black in the 
 process of digestion. But it's no good, the girl's gone — bolted, by 
 jingo. However, we have set traps enough for her in the park. I 
 don't think she's out of it yet ; and if she isn't, we must catch her ; so 
 
 sit down and take some dinner Bring some soup and some fish — : — 
 
 Why, Freddy, you look like a gentleman !" 
 
 **I take it I do," drawled the Honourable Henry Frederick Augustus; 
 " but I knew you wanted a change, so I did make myself look like a 
 gentleman, though none but blackguards do that now. But I've 
 brought two men with me in the shay to Avalk at the funeral. I found 
 them in the coffee-room of the ' Horse Shoe,' at Offington, talking 
 literary — one's a poet, the other's a proser — so I asked them to my 
 funeral, and promised them a bed and a bottle of claret." 
 
 " Bring them in, bring them in," cried the viscount, whose fault, it 
 must be acknowledged, was not want of hospitality ; " bring them in, 
 Jerry ; put chairs, knives and forks and glasses ; we'll have a set-to 
 upon literary matters. I've known a great many men of letters in my 
 day — once drank a cup of tea with Johnson, the only time I ever 
 drank such stuff in my life Bring them in, Jerry, I say.'* 
 
 " Come, come," cried his dutiful son, " don't you forget I'm your 
 nephew, Jonas, old gentleman ; your son Freddy's dead, remember. I 
 know it to my cost, for I was kicked out of the lord mayor's ball for 
 being alive again." 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha !" cried the peer ; " Freddy redivivus ! That will never 
 do — I had forgot though, by jingo — but it will do quite well. Jonas, my 
 dear boy, you're my heir-at-law, so it doesn't matter. Are these 
 
 your two friends ? Very happy to see you, gentlemen — very happy 
 
 to see any friends of my nephew, Judas — Ha, ha, ha ! Pray be seated. 
 A very bad business, gentlemen — a very bad business, indeed ; the loss 
 of a son a terrible affair — but I always loved my nephew, Amos, quite 
 as well ; so that's one comfort, and we'll have a merry night of it — Ha, 
 ha, ha ! — won't we, Zacharias, my boy ? Always right to keep one's 
 
 spirits up, isn't it ? Pray sit down, Mr. . I have not the 
 
 honour of knowing your name." 
 
 " Winterton," replied the gentleman to whom he addressed himself; 
 and who, as the reader may conceive, was staring with unmixed 
 astonishment in the face of the viscount. 
 
 " And your friend r" continued Lord Outrun ; " by what blessed 
 designation may he be known in the great moving mass of humanity ?" 
 
 " My first name is Darius, sir," replied the other gentleman, who 
 stood six feet one inch and a half, without his shoes, and was a little 
 bald on the top of his head ; '' but if you \^'ill permit me, I will refrain, 
 for a short period, from mentioning my cognomen, or second epithet." 
 
 " Certainly, certainly," cried the peer ; " this Castle of Outrun, sir, 
 is called ' Liberty-hall ;' and though we do not write up here, as our 
 friend Wilkes, did, ' Fais ce que tu voudray it is only because the thing 
 
292 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 is understood. Now, gentlemen, proceed, proceed j our business at 
 present is eating — after that comes drinking — then we will have 
 literature if you please — and then, naturally, follows sleep. Ha, ha, 
 ha ! — isn't it so, Freddy ? — Jeremiah I mean. My dear nephew, do 
 instant justice to that vol-au-vent — take a glass of champagne, and 
 show your friends how to make use of your imcle's house. Tom 
 Hamilton, a glass of wine with you." 
 
 The two guests seemed so utterly confounded, that for several 
 minutes they continued to eat and drink in silence, leaving the strange 
 house they were in to follow its own strange courses. Mr. Winterton, 
 indeed, who was a small, thin, fox-like man, close shaved, but very dark 
 about the mazard, did ample justice to the viands set before him ; 
 
 while Mr. Darius seemed only gifted in the way of potation, 
 
 and drank wine with each of his four companions, and then began 
 again. In the meanwhile, Tom Hamilton seemed struck with an 
 affection for Mr. Darius's countenance. He gazed at him, he stared 
 at him — he stared at him, he gazed at him again ; till at length Mr. 
 Darius began to raise his tall head still higher, to think it very 
 extraordinary, to fume like a very elevated Mount Vesuvius, and to 
 return Mr. Hamilton's examination, with what might have been a very 
 strong inclination to knock him down. But just as such a tendency 
 was growing upon him, and he was calculating the chances which Tom 
 Hamilton's broad shoulders, long arms, and well-proportioned limbs 
 afforded of paying any pugilistic debts with interest — the last-named 
 gentleman suddenly started up, caught him by the hand, and, giving 
 him an affectionate squeeze, exclaimed — 
 
 " Ah, my dear fellow, I am delighted to see you ; really it is so long 
 since we met, that I quite forgot you. We are both a good deal 
 changed since then — but don't say a word about it — I understand it all 
 quite well ; we'll talk about it by-and-by ;" and eking out his speech 
 with nods, and winks, and signs, Tom Hamilton resumed his seat with 
 a well-pleased smile of recognition on his countenance ; while Mr. 
 Darius smiled likewise, but looked more bewildered than ever. 
 
 We will not pause upon the dinner ; suffice it to say, the two literary 
 friends of Mr. Fitzurse severally fed and drank like men who knew 
 how to estimate good things. The viscount himself watched their 
 proceedings with a curious eye — not with a grudging one, let it be re- 
 marked — ^for there was a liberal spirit in the peer's bosom, which took 
 a delight in seeing the acts of eating and drinking performed, and he 
 was highly satisfied with the feats of his two guests. 
 
 " A pleasant thing, dinner, sir, after a long journey," said the peer, 
 addressing the great Darius. 
 
 " A pleasant thing at any time," said Mr. Darius ; " when one can 
 get it." 
 
 " That's true, by jingo," said his lordship ; " and I composed, this 
 very day, a little poem in praise of the dinner-bell." 
 
 " Pray let us have it — pray let us have it," said Mr. Darius, who was 
 evidently quite in the habit of submitting quietly to the infliction of an 
 Amphitryon's verses ; " pray let us have it — pray let us have it, my 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 293 
 
 lord ;" and the peer, after three hems, and a blush which was lost 
 amongst the other roses of his countenance, repeated the little piece of 
 poetry with which we have already favoured the reader. 
 
 " Capital, capital !" cried Mr. Darius. But Mr. Winterton looked 
 up from amidst the fragments of a chateau rtisscy and exclaimed — 
 
 " Do you call that poetry ? 'Pon my life, in this age there must be 
 some patent machine for making verses; for as children now perform, 
 in the factories, the work that used formerly to require skilful men, so 
 now every boarding-school chit, and every raw boy, throw off long 
 pieces of versification, which are quite marketable commodities, and " 
 
 " Which, to follow your metaphor, Winterton," cried Mr. Darius — 
 " are measured by the yard, and not the foot." 
 
 " True, true," said Mr. Winterton, in a solemn tone ; " but poetry is 
 above their power." 
 
 " Well now, give us a specimen of your poetry, Winterton," said 
 Mr. Darius . 
 
 " Pray do— pray do," cried Viscount Outrun ; " by jingo, that's a 
 good idea. Let's have a stave of poetry, by all means." 
 
 " Let heem have something to wet hees whistle," said the Honourable 
 Henry Frederick Augustus ; '* you kaen't expect a man to spout pottery, 
 after eating all that preserved geenger, without a wet of claret." 
 
 " To be sure, to be sure," cried the peer. " Jerry — where's Jerry 
 Tripe?" 
 
 " He's verifying his dream, I should think," said Tom Hamilton, 
 " he's so long in the cellar ;" but just at that moment, Jerry appeared ; 
 and after having swallowed a large glass of fragrant Latour^ Mr. 
 Winterton threw up his eyes to the ceiling, laid his right fist heavily 
 upon the table, and began — 
 
 ** Mark all ye men who eye these gloomy pages, 
 I sing of spell-bound corn and taxed sausages, 
 Pork most unduly held from British mouth, 
 And sugar duty-bound in the far south. 
 Oh ye, whose hearts do yearn to kindred woes, 
 Within whose breasts the fire of mercy glows; 
 Ye manufacturers who owe your fortune. 
 Your carriage and establishnient for sporting ** 
 
 " That's a bad rhyme," said Darius. 
 
 " Let heem go on," said the Honourable Frederick. 
 
 " Bravo, bravo," said the peer ; " I hate those d d manufacturers, 
 
 and the more ridiculous they are made the better." 
 
 Mr. Winterton shot a glance of indignation at him, and proceeded — 
 
 '* Your carriage and establishment for sporting ; 
 Your turtle-soup, your plate, your haunch of renison, 
 The poems that you read of Alfred Tennyson ; 
 Each snug delight that in your town house lies. 
 And secret cottage filled with soft black eyes ; 
 You I appeal to, for those luckless elves, 
 For you, who hourly labour, not themselves." 
 
294 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 " Rather obscure," said Tom Hamilton. 
 « All the more sublime," said Mr. Darius. 
 
 « True, true," said the peer ; " the Castalian font is a little milky 
 now and then, even at its highest source." 
 
 Mr. Winterton felt it to be a compliment, and went on — 
 
 « I ask you not to give one pleasure up, 
 To sweeten poverty's most bitter cup. 
 Resign no carriage ! keep not one horse more ! 
 Send not one pampered footman from your door I 
 Let cab and chariot wait at your abode, 
 And four swift horses roll you on the road 1 
 Let turtle flow with champagne at the board. 
 And the whole Indies grace your plate-chest hoard ; 
 Soft Turkey meet your feet where'er you tread, 
 And finest Irish deck your board and bed ! 
 Of things permitted and forbidden swill, 
 Horse, hound, and pretty maiden if you will ! 
 I ask for none of these, all, all I claim, 
 Is your loud voice man's misery to proclaim ; 
 Rave in the senate, in the meeting shout. 
 Preach loud sedition to the rabble rout, 
 The angry passions of the hungry wield, 
 'Gainst landlord, farmer, labourer in the field ; 
 Point envy's darts at them, and make of them your shield." 
 
 " Bravo, bravo, bravo," cried Mr. Darius ; " that Alexandrine is 
 beautiful, sublime, highly poetical ! Go on, Winterton," 
 Mr. Winterton did so — 
 
 " Lo, mighty mill-owner, respected lord, 
 
 , Yon wretch, in that dark cabin's walls abhorr'd, 
 
 Tableless, stoolless, bedless, there he lies. 
 
 Want in his heart and misery in his eyes ; 
 
 His starving wife and babes around him press. 
 
 He gives them all he has to give — a kiss — 
 
 Poor food for wretchedness, but he's no more. 
 
 Except the tear that drops upon the floor. 
 
 To yield to those imploring eyes that seek 
 
 Bread from his hands, with his own hunger weak. 
 
 That man was once a joyous country youth — 
 
 That wife he wed in innocence and truth — 
 
 Those children sprung, he thought, to aid his toil. 
 
 When for thy mill he left his native soil. 
 
 Within that mill he laboured hour by hour, 
 
 To swell thy wealth, thy luxury and power ; 
 
 Spent his best years, and with his sweat of brow 
 
 Made both what thou art, and what he is now. 
 
 But trade gets bad — thou cans't not sell thy wares — 
 
 Thy fortune's made, however, and who cares ? 
 
 Shut up the fabric — fast close the mill door. 
 
 Discharge the workmen — ^they are but the poor ! 
 
 Cry down the corn-laws — give a hundred pound 
 
 To the poor fund j and high your name shall sound 
 
DB LUNATICO INQLIllENDO. 295 
 
 For charity and goodness, although he 
 
 Who made thee rich, still rots in penury. 
 
 Turn indignation from thyself away 
 
 To other men — let farmers, landlords pay. 
 
 How horrible to tax the people's food. 
 
 That they themselves may live ! These men of blood 
 
 Deserve no mercy at your hands, though they 
 
 Plod on in toilful mediocrity, 
 
 Make no such mighty wealth as you have made — 
 
 "Wring no such luxuries from the limbs of trade ; 
 
 And only claim, in favour of their cause, 
 
 Promised protection from their country's laws. 
 
 What's that to you ? Your manufacturing vein 
 
 Must at their cost cut out new roads to gain ; 
 
 "Tis a wise course, the source of power and pelf, 
 
 To sacrifice all others to yourself ; 
 
 The way is open — specious words are rife. 
 
 And a bad crop may give your cause new life. 
 
 Outcry the means, tumult behind your hand. 
 
 And starving crowds to second your demand. 
 
 On you they all depend — your hand doles out 
 
 The weekly pence that just keep death without ; 
 
 Raise loud the cry then, on all sorts of stages — 
 
 Write fiery tracts, and treasonable pages — 
 
 Bring down the price of corn — and lower your men's wages !" 
 
 " Whawe ah we — whawe ahwe — whawe ahwe !** went somebody or 
 something, and turning roand towards the top of the table, they saw 
 the viscount with his head resting upon his left hand, his face turned 
 up towards the ceiling, his mouth open, and his nose emitting the 
 dulcet sounds which we have attempted to convey to the reader's 
 apprehension, by the above-written syllables. 
 
 "It must have been strong," said Mr. Fitzurse, "to make him forget 
 his claret. Hallo, my lord, hallo — youVe forgotten y«ur wine, and 
 he's done hees poetry, so you may wake up now in safety." 
 
 "Very good, capital, excellent!" cried the viscount, starting up; 
 
 " by jingo, that last line was sublime Pass the claret, Tom 
 
 Hamilton." 
 
 Tom Hamilton was now seated by the side of Mr. Darius, talking 
 with him very busily in an under tone. He did as he was bid, however, 
 not without filling his own glass and that of his neighbour, and then 
 resumed the conversation which had been interrupted. They both 
 seemed deeply interested, and besides the words which passed between 
 them, there was a multitude of gesticulations which showed how com- 
 pletely they were occupied. Mr. Winterton, for his part, looked round 
 the table with eyes full of fiery indignation. 
 
 " Base and degenerate souls," he said, in a low but solemn voice, 
 like the tapping of a hammer upon an empty barrel ; " not one spark 
 of poetic fire or genius amongst them — not a soul alive to the high 
 art — not a heart that beats for the sorrows of their fellow-creatures." 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha !" cried the viscount, laughing heartily as he caught 
 these words ; " very shocking, very horrible indeed. Terrible fellows 
 
296 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 those two, see how they are talking ; no spirit, no feeling, no ear, no 
 mind, no understanding ; by jingo, we'll punish them. Tom Hamilton, 
 I fine you a bumper of claret, to be drunk standing, with your fingers 
 on your nose as if you were taking physic, for chattering in such a 
 manner while Mr. Winterton was spouting." 
 
 " And your lordship snoring," said Tom Hamilton ; " but I bow to 
 the court ;" and without any very great signs of unwillingness, Tom 
 Hamilton underwent the penalty of his treason against the muse. 
 
 Mr. Darius was fined the same manner ; and the viscount continued 
 to make up for Jerry Tripe's delay in bringing the claret, by its rapid 
 circulation, till the Honourable Frederick's eyes began to assume that 
 peculiar fish-like expression which indicated generally that his brain 
 was becoming well sopped. Tom Hamilton seized the moment as if 
 he had been looking out for that stage in his friend's nightly proceed- 
 ings, and rose from the table saying — 
 
 " Come, my lord, had we not better go while we can. I think coffee 
 and curagoa would be expedient." 
 
 " With all my heart," replied the peer, rising and balancing himself 
 upon one leg, with a certain degree of vacillation. 
 
 All moved but Mr. Winterton, who was taking sweet revenge, and 
 snoring as loud as the viscount. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIBENDO. 29T 
 
 CHAPTER XL VIII. 
 
 THE HORNS OP A DILEMMA — A FIRE-EATING ACQUAINTANCE MR. PITZURSE 
 
 CHOOSES BETWEEN THE DEATHS AND MARRIAGES — THE CRUELTY OF THOMAS 
 HAMILTON, ESQ 
 
 " No ! Nonsense ! It kaen't be !" cried Mr. Fitznrse, standing in the 
 library, into which he had been seduced out of the drawing-room, and 
 holding by the back of a chair to keep himself from oscillating. 
 " Tom, you're hoaxing me ; it's all stuff." 
 
 " Indeed it isn't, Fitzurse," replied Tom Hamilton, in a grave tone : 
 " you've got yourself into a confounded scrape, and I don't see how 
 you are to get out of it. Can you deny any of the facts, eh, Fitz- 
 
 urse 
 
 "?» 
 
 " Oh, demm it, I'll deny them all if that will do any good,'* said Mr. 
 Fitzurse, whose ideas of morality were rather lax, as the reader 
 knows. 
 
 *' But it won't do any good," said Tom Hamilton : "I think it will 
 do harm instead of good, as the facts can be proved against you. In 
 the first place, did you, or did you not, promise the girl to marry 
 her ?" 
 
 " Why yees, I did ; but you know, Tom, that means nothing. Why, 
 my dear fellow, I've promised a dozen and more, and breaking any 
 promise to one is but honesty to all the rest, ye see, Tom. Come, 
 come, Tom Hamilton, thees is a good joke — you talking about promises 
 of marriage, as if there was any thing in that. One would never get 
 hold of a dairy maid, if one didn't promise all manner of things. I 
 dare say you've promised them marriage fifty times." 
 
 " Never I" said Tom Hamilton, in a decided tone. " But that's no- 
 thing to do with the present question. In this instance, at least, you 
 have put your promise down in writing." 
 
 "Why, yees," drawled Mr. Fitziu'se, "I couldn't help that, you 
 know, Tom. She would have it in writing, and as I was very much in 
 love with her, I did put it down. But I'll wheedle her out of it some 
 day : a little coaxing will soon do that." 
 
 " There you are quite mistaken," replied Mr. Hamilton in a decided 
 tone ; " for now she knows all about it, and of what value it is, she 
 would never give it up : and besides " 
 
 " But I say, Tom," rejoined Mr. Fitzurse, with a pleasant leer, " how 
 come you to know so much of her concerns ? I suppose you want to 
 take her off my hands, eh ? But that won't do, Tom ; I can't spare 
 her just yet. She's a devilish nice girl, Tom Hamilton, I can tell you 
 that." 
 
208 THB COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 « I think so too," replied Tom Hamilton, « and therefore I think 
 that after your promises, and all the devoted love she showed to you 
 at the time of the duel, you ought to marry her. That's my opinion." 
 
 « Pooh ! nonsense I" said Mr. Fitzurse, " we shall do very well with- 
 out matrimony. But what I want to know, Tom, is, how you came to 
 know so much about all her concerns ? Demme, I don't like it, Tom.* 
 
 « That's very easily explained," replied Tom Hamilton. " When 
 you went away up to town she fancied that you had abandoned her 
 and we're going to marry Miss Longmore ; so in despair she threw 
 herself into the water, and I picked her out, and of course asked her 
 what made her do such a thing ; on which she told me the whole story. 
 But you seem to me to be drunk, Fitzurse, so I had better talk to you 
 about it to-morrow ; only I wanted to prevent any row between you 
 and her cousin, whom you have been fool enough to bring down with 
 
 you." 
 
 « Pooh ! that's all nonsense, Tom," said the honourable gentleman, 
 looking a little dismayed, notwithstanding his affectation of incredulity ; 
 « that's a fudge, Tom, that's a fudge. You want to frighten me ; but 
 I won't be frightened. I've fought one duel, so why shouldn't I fight 
 another ?" 
 
 " Oh, if that s all," replied Tom Hamilton, " the matter will soon be 
 arranged ; only most likely he will horsewhip you first, and shoot you 
 afterwards, for he is a devil of a hand, I know : you may see that by 
 his coolness. And besides, you know, she'll have her action at law 
 against you, and make you pay swinging damages into the bargain." 
 
 " It's demmed awkward," said Mr. Fitzurse, falling into a vein of 
 thoughtfulness ; but then recovering himself the moment after, he added, 
 " but I won't believe a word of it. Why I know she had no relations ; 
 she told me so herself: she had no relations, I say." 
 
 " None but this cousin, who went to India," said Tom Hamilton ; 
 " and whom she and every body else thought was dead. But if you 
 doubt my word, ask him yourself. He'll soon tell you, and in a very 
 different manner, I can assure you, from what I have done, as soon as 
 ever he finds out that you are Lord Outrun's son, and not his nephew. 
 He was just now saying to me what an unfortunate thing it was that 
 you were dead, for he wanted to see you, to thank you for all the 
 kindness you had shown his cousin. But you see that's not the worst 
 of the affair," continued Tom Hamilton ; " the worst part of the whole 
 is this business about Laura Longmore. You will certainly be tried 
 for that ; and unless you can prove that you had no intention of 
 forcing her to marry you, it will be as awkward a job as ever I heard 
 of. So you had better think over your position, Fitzurse, and let me 
 know your intentions. Here I am, always ready to help you if I can. 
 If you've a mind to fight this fellow, the sooner it's done the better : I 
 should say to-morrow morning if I were you, and bully the thing out at 
 once. At all events, you get credit by it then." 
 
 " Demm the credit !" replied Mr. Fitzurse ; " the only thing I got by 
 the last was, to get kicked out of the lord mayor's ball as a dead man. 
 But perhaps this fellow might take fright, if one were to talk high." 
 
Dfi LtlNATICO INQUIRENBO. 299 
 
 « I think you made a bad game of that the last time," said Tom 
 Hamilton. No, no ; that's not upon the cards, my good friend. When 
 this fellow, Darius Markem, shot young Grey, of the sixteenth '* 
 
 " No ! Did he shoot him ?" cried Mr. Fitzurse. 
 
 « Through the liver," continued Tom Hamilton ; " it was simply 
 because he mentioned the very word fear in his presence. He said no 
 gentleman ought to mention such a thing before another : it was like 
 talking an unknown language, and therefore must intend an insult, for ' 
 no gentleman ought to be supposed to know what the word^ar means. 
 He is very good-natured, however, and easily satisfied, though some- 
 what hot and peppery at first. When he called out Grantham for 
 striking his dog, he offered to look over the affair, even upon the 
 ground, if Grantham would go down upon his knees, pull off" his hat, 
 and ask the dog's pardon." 
 
 " And did he ?" said Mr. Fitzurse. 
 
 " Oh no," replied Tom Hamilton ; " he Said he would never ask 
 pardon of any son-of-a-bitch in Europe." 
 
 " Well ?" cried Mr. Fitzurse, with his mouth wide open. 
 
 " Oh, Markem shot him through the head, that's all : but the jury 
 found him not guilty, because he had made overtures for a recon- 
 ciliation. But to talk on more serious matters, Fitzurse, what do you 
 intend to do ? Do act decidedly, one way or another." 
 
 " Why what would you do, Tom, if you were I ?" drawled Mr. 
 Fitzurse. 
 
 " Why," cried Tom Hamilton, with a thoughtful and considerate air, 
 " I think I should be inclined to fight him : he might miss one, you 
 know. But then, of course, if I really did like the girl, and had 
 promised to marry her, that would make a great difference. Come, 
 Fitzurse, I'll tell you what will be the best plan. No man likes to do 
 any thing upon compulsion, you know ; so suppose you fight him first, 
 and then, if you happen to escape, or are only wounded, you can marry 
 her afterwards ; then you will avoid being prosecuted for breach of 
 promise ; and, in regard to this business of Miss Longmore, instead of 
 being tried for carrying off" forcibly an heiress with the intent to marry 
 her against her will, you can answer at once that you had no such 
 intention, as you were just about to marry another person. But by all 
 means fight him first — fight him first ; take my advice." 
 
 " No, no ; demm it," cried the honourable gentleman, " if I am to 
 do all that, I shall have work enough for one morning ; so I'll have no 
 fighting, Tom. It's very unpleasant stuflT, fighting ; and one has such 
 a headache after." 
 
 " That's the brandy," said Tom Hamilton, significantly. 
 
 " But I say, Tom," continued Mr. Fitzurse, with a blank look, " how 
 are we to manage this devil of a marriage ? The peer will never con- 
 sent, and he'll make me fight at all events." 
 
 The words " that would be difficult" sprang to Tom Hamilton's lips, 
 but he thought of the fishing and shooting, and merely replied, " Oh, 
 very easy ; a private marriage, you know, pleasant and romantic. 
 You can conceal it then as long as you like. You are both of age. 
 
300 THE COUMTSSIONEB ; OH, 
 
 We can ride over and get a licence to-morrow ; and old Hookham, the 
 parson, whom your father put in because he outdranli him by a bottle, 
 will make you one flesh in no time." 
 
 "Vairy well," said Mr. Fitzurse, thoughtfully; but just at that 
 moment the door of the library opened, a step was heard, and in walked 
 Mr. Darius at full length. 
 
 Mr. Fitzurse gave a great start, and his under jaw rattled as if there 
 were a screw loose. 
 
 " Ah, my dear sir," said Mr. Darius, advancing with a sweet and 
 pleasant air, " your uncle's sound asleep, Winterton is snoring, and so 
 I took the opportunity just to pop out in order to inquire for a young 
 lady who resides in this house, I am informed — a Miss Jane Markem." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; yes, my dear sir ; yes," replied Mr. Fitzurse, with evi- 
 dent marks of trepidation — " yes, she does live here. Don't go, Tom ; 
 pray stay ; why where are you running to ?" 
 
 " I'll be back again, my dear fellow," said Tom Hamilton. " Pve a 
 little business to settle out here for a moment ; I'll be back again 
 presently. You and this gentleman can entertain yourselves very well, 
 I dare say, till I come back." 
 
 " Why what's the matter, my dear sir ?" said Mr. Darius ; " you 
 seem alarmed. I hope nothing unpleasant has occurred — ^nothing to 
 occasion you apprehension." 
 
 " Oh no ; oh dear, no," replied Mr. Fitzurse, doing his best to look 
 easy. " Pray be seated — pray be seated. Charming person Miss 
 Markem — delightful person ; don't know any body for whom I've a 
 greater respect and esteem, and all that ; very charming person in- 
 deed." 
 
 " Very happy to hear you think so, sir," replied Mr. Darius, in a 
 tone which the honourable gentleman thought somewhat dry. " I myself 
 cannot judge of her charms, not having seen her since her childhood. 
 However, she ought to be a charming person, and that's enough for any 
 one, sir. Her family was most respectable, and that's quite enough for 
 any body, I say. Don't you think so, sir ?" 
 
 " Oh quite, quite, quite," repUed Mr. Fitzurse ; who would not at 
 that moment have contradicted any of the dogmas of his revered 
 companion for a dukedom at the very least. " Quite sufficient for any 
 body." 
 
 " I am glad you think so," said the tall man, in as dry a tone as 
 ever. 
 
 " Oh decidedly," replied Mr. Fitzurse ; " I agree with you perfectly ; 
 and indeed intend very shortly to show how completely I agree with 
 you, by deeds as well as words." 
 
 " I am happy to hear it," replied six foot and an inch. " But pray 
 may I have the honour of seeing this young lady ?" 
 
 « Oh certainly, certainly," replied Mr. Fitzurse, "indubitably. Just 
 wait till Tom Hamilton comes back, and — and " 
 
 " Will Mr. Hamilton's presence be necessary ?" said Mr. Fitzurse's 
 tall friend. 
 
 " Why I think so," replied Mr. Fitzurse, growing every moment 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 301 
 
 more nervous. " Tom ! why where the deuce is the fellow got to ? 
 Why, Tom," he said, going to the door, " Tom !" 
 
 For a moment, as there was no answer, Mr. Fitzurse considered the 
 propriety of running ; and it is probable that such would have been 
 the consummation of his interview with the tall gentleman with the 
 Persian Christian-name, had not the latter at that moment advanced to 
 the door, saying, " Can I fetch him, Mr. Fitzurse ? though I really do 
 not see what is the need for his presence. I am delighted with the 
 pleasure of your company, and can enjoy your society tete-a-tete for 
 half an hour very comfortably." 
 
 " D — n your supercilious politeness," said Mr. Fitzurse to himself. 
 " It's just the way with all these cut-throats : they are as civil while 
 they are butchering you as a slaughterhouse-man sticking a lamb. I 
 wish Tom Hamilton would come. Oh, I must marry her, that's clear 
 enough ; there's no getting off. Tom was quite right ; it must be 
 done, and one may as well do it with a good grace ; so here goes 
 
 1 am very happy indeed, sir," he continued aloud, " you speak in 
 
 such high terms of this young lady's family; for to let you into a secret, 
 I intend to marry her." 
 
 " My dear sir," cried Mr. Darius, grasping his hand, " I am delighted 
 to hear it. I can assure you I am overjoyed, and trust it will be for 
 your mutual happiness." 
 
 " Oh I don't doubt it in the least," replied Mr. Fitzurse ; " Fm sure 
 she's a very good girl, and a very pretty girl too." 
 
 " Well, that's all lucky," said Mr. Darius, in a sort of indifferent tone, 
 which made the honourable scion of the house of Outrun fancy that he 
 suspected no such marriage would have taken place but for his 
 presence." 
 
 " I can't help that," he said to himself ; " demme, the fellow can't 
 call me out for not intending to do a thing. Ah, here comes Tom ! 
 Why, my dear Tom Hamilton, where have you been to ?" 
 
 " Our friend here," said Mr. Darius, in an elevated and patronizing 
 manner, " has done me the honour of communicating to me his intention 
 of espousing Miss Jane Markem." 
 
 " The devil he has !" said Tom Hamilton. 
 
 " I can't tell what the deuce he means," said Mr. Darius, in a whis- 
 per ; " but I never saw any body so civil in all my life." 
 
 Tom Hamilton gave a significant glance, to indicate the necessity of 
 caution ; and Mr. Fitzurse, grasping him by the arm, drew him a little 
 on one side, saying, " I say, Tom, he wants to see her ! Demme, 
 what's to be done ? He wants to see her ! Why, if one doesn't prime 
 her, she may tell all about it, and then there will be the devil to pay." 
 
 " Leave it to me — leave it to me," said Tom. " He mustn't see her 
 yet on any account. Let me prepare her mind, and reason with her. 
 You know, if you marry her, she has no business to say any thing. 
 If she gets married, that's all she has to do with it. She may make a 
 great deal of mischief else." 
 
 " Tell her so — ^tell her so, Tom; there's a good fellow," whispered 
 Mr. Fitzurse. 
 
302 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 « Certainly," replied Tom Hamilton. " I will tell her she may get 
 you shot, if she doesn't mind ; and she won't like that, I suspect. It's 
 a terrible thing to see him one loves killed, lying with a large hole in 
 their head or their heart ; yet such might be the consequence of any 
 indiscretion on her part." 
 
 Cruel Tom Hamilton ! Thou wert now sporting unnecessarily with 
 the feelings of the gentle and amiable being who reposed such implicit 
 confidence in thee. One whose virtuous abhorrence of bloodshed, 
 whose fondness for all pacific arts, whose Christian forbearance from 
 all acts which might endanger the lives of others and himself ought 
 to have commanded more consideration and respect. Why didst thou 
 laugh in thy sleeve, Tom Hamilton, and chuckle in secret cachinnation 
 over all the thrilling emotions which, with the microscope of much 
 experience, you saw going on in the Fitzursine heart ? So it was, 
 however ; but at length he condescended to relieve his friend by 
 addressing Mr. Darius in a solemn and considerate tone, and saying — 
 " My friend Fitzurse here informs me that you are desirous, my dear 
 sir, of seeing Miss Markem to-night ; but, under the circumstances, 
 unless her mind were properly prepared, I think it might agitate her 
 too much. The viscount, too, might wake and come out ; and as this 
 affair of the marriage is to be kept profoundly secret, that would never 
 do. Wait till to-morrow morning, then: in the meantimje, let me 
 speak to you for a moment. Fitzurse, you go into the drawing-room 
 again, and I will settle every thing with my worthy friend here.'* 
 
 " Very well, very well," replied Mr. Fitzurse, moving towards the 
 door. But ere he reached it, he stopped, beckoned to Tom Hamilton, 
 and whispered in his ear when he came, " I say, Tom, mind you don't 
 make him angry. I agree to every thing — every thing, you know — 
 settlements — any thing you like ; only I won't fight. Can't fight 
 Jane's cousin, you know ; that's quite out of the qiiestion." 
 
 " Certainly, certainly," replied Tom Hamilton ; ''if you are going to 
 marry her, you can't, of course, shoot her nearest relation ; but as to 
 marrying her, that's another affair ; there's no compulsion, you know. 
 I'll tell him you won't marry her in a minute, if you like it." 
 
 " No, no, no," cried Mr. Fitzurse with great rapidity. " Demme, 
 I'll marry her ; nothing shall stop me from marrying her 1" and with a 
 mind greatly relieved by bis own vigour of determination, Mr. Fitzurse 
 left the room. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIBKNDO. 303 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 THE CHEVALIER TUBNS MISSIONARY HIS PRINCIPLES OF ACTION TOWARDS A HORSE 
 
 HE HOLDS A CONVERSATION WITH MR. LONGSHANKS UPON A GRAVE SUBJECT A 
 
 MEDICO-PHYSIOLOGICAL DISCUSSION A HINT UPON TRIPE. 
 
 " Let us request the Chevalier de Lunatico to go," said Mr. Alderman 
 Rotundity, addressing a party of six other gentlemen assembled at the 
 Half Moon, at Outrun, a little after nine o'clock on the morning of 
 the following day. " He is perfectly unprejudiced and disinterested ; 
 no one is so well fitted as himself to bear our ultimatum. If we go as 
 magistrates we must act as magistrates, and deal with the matter, not 
 according to feeling but according to law. Mr. Longmore and Harry 
 Worrel are, as they well- may be, too much excited and indignant. 
 No one but the chevalier, in short, is, by coolness, calmness, deliberate 
 wisdom, and freedom from all prejudice, calculated to bear our flag of 
 truce." 
 
 " Hear, hear, hear !'* cried every body present. 
 
 The chevalier thrust his hand into the bosom of his waistcoat, 
 thought for a moment, and then replied — 
 
 " Cool I certainly am, deliberate I imdoubtedly wiU be, unprejudiced 
 I am officially, but I cannot say I am disinterested where my fair friend, 
 Laura, is concerned. However, gentlemen, I will undertake the task, 
 and execute it to the best of my abilites, if you think fit. But let me 
 know precisely the terms of my mission." 
 
 " It is simply this," replied Mr. Rotundity — " I speak under the 
 correction of these gentlemen, to demand, in our united names, that 
 Miss liaura Longmore be immediately restored to her father." 
 
 " Or rather to the whole body of magistrates here sitting, that they 
 may deliver her to her father," said Mr. Puddenstream. 
 
 " Nay, nay, nay," said Mr. Rotundity, " it comes to the same thing. 
 * Alter rixatur de lana scepe caprina et propugnat nugis armatus* 
 Say her father, chevalier ; but at the same time give notice, that if 
 before the hour of noon, the young lady is not in this parlour, a search 
 warrant will be immediately issued, as well as warrants for the appre- 
 hension of all persons who, we have reason to believe, were concerned 
 in this gross act of abduction." 
 
 " Well, gentlemen," replied the chevalier, with a low bow, and a 
 look which, if it had been exhibited by one of the ordinary beings of 
 our terrestrial sphere, we should have called conceited, but which, con- 
 sidering his high station, his qualities, and mission, could only be looked 
 upon as an expression of well-justified self-confidence and trust in his 
 own powers — " well, gentlemen, I will undertake the charge you give 
 me ; but excuse me for reiterating my opinion, that you will be disap- 
 pointed." 
 
304 THE COMMISSIONER ; OE, 
 
 " Thus saying, he quitted the room, mounted a horse which had 
 been lent him by the worthy alderman, and once more took his way 
 along that memorable road by which he had proceeded once before 
 upon a mission of a belligerent character. The horse, as the reader 
 knows, had come some miles that morning, and the chevalier was a 
 man tender to the brute creation. God gave us power over them, he 
 always thought, to use them, but not to ill use them. There is a sort 
 of compact he would say, between man and his beast : the beast pro- 
 mises his services, and the man his protection ; and whoever breaks the 
 engagement is a swindler. If reason gives me power over a beast, the 
 chevalier would go on, it ought to give me power over myself, other- 
 wise I am the greater beast of the two. In consequence of such 
 reasoning, the chevalier went slow ; and before he had gone a hundred 
 yards along the lane, he heard the trotting of another horse behind 
 him. The chevalier was a wise man ; and though he looked about him 
 in the world, he never looked behind him, but calmly and impertur- 
 bably went upon his way, leaving every thing that was past to take 
 care of itself, and any thing that was following to come up if it could. 
 In the space of one minute and six-and-forty seconds, however, there 
 rode up to the chevalier, upon a stout, brown horse, a tall, thin, bony 
 man, dressed in a long cut coat of black, a waistcoat with large flaps, 
 and black silk stockings. On the top of his head was a -small three- 
 cornered cocked hat, and over his stockings were drawn, very nearly till 
 they met the breeches, a pair of boots which might well have formed 
 part of Miss Rotundity's museum, being portions of an extinct animal, 
 namely, the beau of the eighteenth century. They were of the kind 
 called pendragons, which was, indeed, a near approach to the hessian, 
 and on the front of each hung down a large tassel of black silk, which 
 gave to both legs a finish very similar to that which the person of the 
 rider altogether received from a thick queue which dangled down the 
 collar of his coat. 
 
 " Ha, chevalier !" cried Mr. Longshanks, for Mr. Longshanks it 
 was — " ha, chevalier ! is that you ? Why where are you riding too. 
 Some fool's errand, I dare say." 
 
 " Something like it, I am afraid," replied the chevalier, and he ex- 
 plained to the worthy surgeon the object of his journey ; on which the 
 latter immediately burst forth into one of his vehement tirades. 
 
 " I thought so — I thought so," he cried. " It is the most extraordi- 
 nary thing in the world, that if you see a man riding along the road 
 between nine o'clock in the morning and eight o'clock at night, you 
 may safely venture to swear that he is a fool, going upon some fool's 
 errand. Not once in a thousand times will you be wrong." 
 
 " And if you find a man going afte* eight," said the chevalier, 
 " what may your deductions be then, my good friend ?" 
 
 " That he's a rascal," replied Mr. Longshanks ; " the one is very 
 nearly as sure as the other. Did vou look into the churchyard, che- 
 valier, as you came along ?" 
 
 " No," replied the chevalier, " I did not. 
 
 " I did," replied Mr. Longshanks ; " I always ao. I like to look 
 into a churchyard." 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIREITDO. .%66 
 
 " I should suppose," said the chevalier, slyly, " that it was not alto- 
 gether an object of agreeable contemplation to gentlemen of your 
 profession." 
 
 " Ha, ha!" cried Mr. Longshanks, "you have us there, my friend. 
 But if all men were to see the churchyard with the same feelings 
 that I do, most of our great surgeons might glory in their deeds. One 
 never can convince men not to be idiots on such subjects, however ; and 
 instead of looking upon the cemetery as the place of calm repose 
 after this world's toil — the field in which the mortal body is sown in 
 corruption to rise incorruptible — they regard it with horror, and fill it 
 with the phantoms of fancy. The peaceful waving of the churchyard 
 trees above my head wakens in me no dark and gloomy images, but, 
 on the contrary, calls up faith and hope, with the blessed foretaste of 
 that sort of reposeful feeling which we may anticipate in another 
 state." 
 
 " But I thought you surgeons," said the chevalier, " set your faces 
 strongly against the idea of a resurrection of the body.'* 
 
 " Fools, fools, fools ! my dear sir," said Mr. Longshanks — " I did not 
 say surgeons were any thing but fools either. The only difference is, 
 that they are fools with a knowledge of cutting, and sometimes a little 
 anatomy. Not often that, however. But why do they say there is no 
 resurrection ? Because the parts of the frame corrupt ? Because its 
 particles separate ? Because they are dispersed here and there ? And 
 is this the reason why the God who united them all at first, should not 
 at his will recall into one frame all such atoms as may be fitted to form 
 that incorruptible body with which we are to rise again ? Let no one 
 tell me either that the vivifying principle may not remain full, perfect, 
 ready for re-developement in each or any of those atoms for thousands, 
 ay, and for millions of years. Do we not see the animalcules which 
 have lain dead in the very heart of the rock, burst forth into life again 
 after unknown ages of apparent extinction ? Do we not see the grain 
 of wheat which has been buried for thousands of years with the 
 mummy in the catacomb, still retain within itself the principle of life, 
 and grow green and flourish when taken from the tomb ? Where shall 
 this stop ? Why should it ever stop ? and still more, why should we 
 doubt it when the lips of embodied truth have told us that it shall 
 be so?" 
 
 " Upon my word, I don't know," replied the chevalier ; " but I have 
 got a great number of little tickets in my pocket, much at the service of 
 those good people who do doubt it. Scepticism seems to be one of the 
 great lunacies of the age : people doubt every thing, even after it has 
 been proved a thousand times, and go back to the same arguments that 
 have been refuted over and over again, as if they were quite new and 
 unanswerable." 
 
 " Very true, chevalier, very true," replied Mr. Longshanks. " Look 
 at the question of infection and non-infection — you hear the drivellers 
 arguing upon it from morning till night ; and, not contented with 
 impugning the character of the spasmodic cholera, they would take 
 away the very reputation of the plague. There is no proposition in 
 
 c. NO, X. X 
 
306 THE COMMISSIONKR ; OR, 
 
 Euclid more clearly demonstrable and demonstrated, than that the 
 plague is infectious. Russel proved it beyond all possibility of doubt, 
 half a century ago, and yet there are dolts found to deny the fact 
 even now ; stupidly arguing, because one man, subjected to the influence 
 of the poison, does not take the disease, that it is not communicable 
 by such means." 
 
 " I have always heard," replied the chevalier, " that in logic it re- 
 quired a great number of negatives to dispose of one affirmative ; but 
 probably, in such matters as you speak of, the affirmative cannot be 
 distinctly proved." 
 
 " Just as distinctly, I say," cried the surgeon, « as any other propo- 
 sition. When a man lifts up his hand and makes a straightforward 
 blow, and his fist touches another man's head, and that other man 
 tumbles down, you may say that there is no proof that the one was 
 knocked 1)y the other ; for he may have fallen down on purpose, as 
 men do upon the stage, just at the moment the other's fist touched his 
 head ; but if you see a great many people very unwilling to tumble 
 down, who all fall the moment that the man strikes at them in the same 
 way, there is sufficient proof for any reasonable man, that he is the 
 knocker down and the others are the knockees. Thus, if one man 
 catches a particular disease, when he visits another who has got it, that 
 is no absolute proof that the disease is contagious or infectious either ; 
 but if every body but one or two catch it, who do visit the sick person, 
 you may naturally conclude that it is infectious or contagious. I'll 
 tell you, chevalier, how these people contrive to befool themselves and 
 all the world : they don't lay down their premises properly, and 
 consequently argue from a false foundation. Their first mistake is, 
 thinking that you can hold water in a sieve. Before a man can take op 
 receive a disease, his constitution must be susceptible of it — no man can 
 have the gout in his toe, who has two wooden legs. Many men who have 
 had the small-pox are insusceptible of receiving it again, and nothing 
 you will do will give it them. The same is the case with all other 
 diseases. The first condition is, that a man's body should be in such a 
 condition that the disease can take hold upon him. There are three 
 grand species of disease, sir, in this world : diseases that are neither in* 
 factious nor contagious ; diseases that are contagious but not infectious ; 
 and diseases which are infectious — which last I believe to be universally 
 contagious also. The first class proceeds from some disorganization of 
 the man's own body, or from some poison imbibed, which has its specific 
 effect, but is not reproduced by the body on which it acts. The second 
 proceeds from some poison imbibed, which reproduces itself, but which 
 is not diffusible in the fluid which we call air. It can be commu- 
 nicated to another person alone by the touch ; is taken in by one or other 
 of those little mouths that are open all over the human body ; and is just 
 as much a poison as if it acted through the stomach. The third is a 
 similar poison, but is diffusible or soluble in the air. It may be 
 through the lungs it acts, it may be through the stomach, it may be 
 through the skin ; but the only difference between it and the other 
 poison I have mentioned, is the diffiisibility of the one and not of the 
 
DB LUNATICO INQUHIENDO. 307 
 
 Other ; and this makes tne difference between contagion and infection. 
 Both of these latter diseases require, as I have before said, a certain 
 condition in the body of man for their reception ; but the latter, from 
 the very quality of diffusibility which it possesses, requires another 
 condition, that is — a certain state of the air in which it is dissolved. 
 This air is a fluid, like water, or any thing else ; but some things won't 
 dissolve in cold water at all, but will in hot. If I dissolve oxalic acid 
 in pure water, it is rank poison ; but if that water contains a certain 
 portion of alkali, the acid is neutralized, and the drink becomes harm- 
 less. This theory is enough to explain all the phenomena of disease, 
 and there is no other theory that can ; so that those who pretend 
 there is no such thing as contagion and infection, are no better than 
 fools." 
 
 " I heard it asserted the other day," said the chevalier, " that when 
 you had lately a severe epidemic in the country, both physicians and 
 politicians endeavoured to cry down the idea of infection, in order to 
 diminish the alarm." 
 
 " I do not know whether they did or not," replied his companion ; 
 " but if they did, the only difference that makes, chevalier, is to 
 show them liars as well as fools, but not a bit the less fools for 
 that, for every liar is a fool in the very first instance. Truth, my dear 
 sir, truth, is to morals, what gold is to metals — the only thing perfectly 
 pure, and therefore a species of riches which every one should covet, 
 as possessing intrinsic value that never can be lost. No chemistry can 
 decompose it ; the worst air cannot tarnish it ; its value is recognised 
 by all nations ; and the moral gold has this advantage over the mineral, 
 that no one can rob us of it, and if we lose it, it is by our own fault." 
 
 " I agree with you entirely," replied the chevalier, " but I wish we 
 could get a little more of it, both in this world and the world from 
 which I come. My belief is, that every body lies more or less, from 
 the clergyman in the pulpit, to the politician in parliament ; from the 
 glover who sells sheepskin for kid, to the orator who puts off his pri- 
 vate interest for patriotism. All the world's a rascal, sir, and a very 
 great rascal, too ; but I do particularly wish, at the present moment, 
 that I could get at the truth of a story concerning a mutual friend of 
 ours." 
 
 " Ah !" cried the surgeon, " who do you mean, who do you mean — 
 Harry Worrel?" 
 
 " No," replied the chevalier, " I mean Joey Pike ;" and thereupon 
 he set to work, and related to Mr. Longshanks the whole of the state- 
 ments made by the renowned Joey on the preceding evening. 
 
 Mr. Longshanks listened with profound attention, and remained 
 silent for at least two minutes after the chevalier had done. From the 
 gravity of his look during those two minutes, nobody could have the 
 slightest idea of what was to follow ; but in the end, he burst into a 
 loud fit of laughter. 
 
 " Well, chevalier," he said at length, "go on, go on. I could set you 
 upon the right track, but I won't. You are fond of a wild goose 
 
308 "fHE commissioner; oh, 
 
 chase I see, otherwise you would not oe riding now to Outrun Castle, 
 to ask for a girl who, you know, is not there." 
 
 " If you can set me upon the right track, I beg you will do it," said 
 the chevalier; "and as to my own conduct, let me explain, first, 
 that you ought to recollect, any private information I may possess 
 regarding Miss Longmore, was given under an injunction to secrecy." 
 
 " True, true," cried Mr. Longshanks, "you are a man of honour, 
 and keep your word." 
 
 "We lunatics always do," replied the chevalier, looking upon a 
 promise, even when made to a woman, as a bond which we have no right 
 to break. " But moreover, if I am fond of a wild goose chase, as you 
 say, it is but a part of my mission ; for what other definition would you 
 give of this expedition of mine, to look for stray spirits from the 
 moon. It is a wild goose chase, indeed ; nevertheless, I have already 
 bagged a good many birds, and shall bag a great many more before I 
 have done with them. Take care, my dear Mr. Longshanks, that you 
 are not amongst the number." 
 
 Mr. Longshanks laughed again heartily, and replied — 
 
 " Well, well, go on, go on I Catch me if you can ; but as for this 
 business of Joey Pike, all I have to tell you is, the boy's a fool. Ne- 
 vertheless, in the hunt, you may come upon things that you little 
 expect; but I fear you will make nothing of it. Unless you can 
 get some hold on that consummate blackguard, Jeremiah Tripe, there 
 is no chance for you." 
 
 " I have got a hold upon him," replied the chevalier emphatically ; 
 " a hold from which he cannot escape." 
 
 " Then grasp him tight," exclaimed Mr. Longshanks, " for I never 
 knew such an old eel in my life. I once thought I had him at the 
 point of death, and tried to make him confess, but he said if he was 
 dying, he might as well have another bottle before he went. That 
 first fuddled him, and then cured him ; and so I lost both my patient 
 and my penitent. But as you are going on to the castle, I'll ride with 
 you, for I'm bound thither also. They are all ill together there, it 
 seems, and very likely are all dead by this time." 
 
 " Why, what is the matter with them ?" exclaimed the chevalier, in 
 some surprise. 
 
 " Only the Asiatic cholera, I should think," replied Mr. Long- 
 shanks. " If the man told the symptoms rightly, you will find them all 
 by this time ?& stiff as a stockfish, and as blue as a bilberry ; there 
 hasn't happened such good luck in the parish for the last forty year^. 
 But let us get on, let us get on, for if they're all dead, I shall lose my 
 fee, and I have promised Widow Green to re-thatch her cottage." 
 
DE LUNATICO IRQUIBENDO. 3^9 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 KB. DARIUS COMPOSES X HISTORY HIS BIRTH, PARENTAGE, AND BDDCATION JANE 
 
 DIFFERS WITH HIM ON A POINT OF LONGITUDE A NEW REASON FOR A CHRISTIAN 
 
 NAME TRAVELS THROUGH MANT LANDS ^THE WAR-DANCE OF THE TONGA ISLANDS 
 
 MR. FITZUHSE RESCUED FROM SCALPING. 
 
 " Why, my dear sir, my dear sir," cried Mr. Darius, whom we and 
 Mr. Fitzurse, as the reader must potently recollect, left alone with 
 Tom Hamilton in the library, "why did you place me in such an 
 awkward position, without information, without knowledge, without 
 the slightest indication of what I was to say, except a few words whis- 
 pered after dinner ? The slightest indiscretion on my part, might have 
 spoiled the affair. You must have supposed me to have possessed a 
 genius superior to the whole human race." 
 
 " Could I doubt it ?'* said Tom Hamilton ; « could I doubt that the 
 man who, for a consideration, carried on two opposite daily journals 
 
 at once — the high tory A , and the radical B , — and displayed 
 
 equal ability in stating his arguments, and refuting them on each side ; 
 the man who has furnished to the public more interesting accidents and 
 offences ; more highway robberies, crimes, and misdemeanours ; more 
 extraordinary natural phenomena; more shameful cases of scandal, and 
 more touching and pathetic incidents, than any man in Europe — at the 
 rate of a penny a line — could I doubt that he would be ready at a 
 moment's notice, to deal with a subject of which he knew nothing, as 
 glibly as Lord J R ." 
 
 " Ah, my dear sir, you overwhelm me," exclaimed Mr. Darius ; " I 
 really blush, but it was an awful situation to be placed in. He came 
 very close to the subject, and I knew not a word about it. What could 
 I do ? Why I made up my mind at once that I would look profound, 
 speak dry, and talk vague. Not Sir Robert himself — my friend Sir 
 Robert, I mean, who is destined one day or another to leave Pitt as 
 much in the shade as Pitt left Walpole — not Sir Robert, I say, could 
 have looked more coldly impenetrable upon a poor Conservative put- 
 ting in his claim for official appointment, than I did upon this Fitzurse : 
 not Sir Robert could have acted with more cool caution." 
 
 " I doubt it not in the least," replied Tom Hamilton ; " I knew I 
 left the matter in good hands, and in the meantime I went and spoke 
 with Miss Markem, so she is now prepared to have a cousin." 
 
 " But is she up to her part ?" exclaimed Mr. Darius ; " you must 
 tell her every thing she has to say, and prepare her for all contin- 
 gencies." 
 
 " Not at all, not at all," replied Tom Hamilton ; " you mistake the 
 matter and the person altogether. If I were to let her know that it 
 was all a hoax, a thousand to one she would not consent to it ; and 
 
310 TJSB commissioner; or, 
 
 even if she did, she would make some blunder in five minutes, which 
 would let the cat out of the bag." 
 
 " Then what must we do ?" cried Mr. Darius, in some surprise. 
 
 « Hoax her too," replied Tom Hamilton. 
 
 « Oh, I understand," said the tall man, " I understand ; but if he 
 finds out that you have done the whole business ?" 
 
 « Why I will fight him, if he likes it," replied Tom Hamilton, with 
 a grim smile. " But to return to the matter in hand. I told her 
 simply that her cousin, Mr. Darius Markem, had suddenly come back 
 from India, and was actually in the house, to which she replied, * La, 
 Mr. Hamilton, I never knew I had a cousin.' So now, my dear sir, 
 you must as speedily as possible get up a story of your birth, parentage, 
 and education ; your travels in India ; your return to England ; your 
 accidental meeting with F(izurse ; and your coming down here." 
 
 " That will soon be done, that will soon be done," replied Mr. 
 Dari\]is -, ** the India part of the business is plain sailing enough, for 
 that's all true." 
 
 " I should suppose that there would lie the great difficulty,*' said 
 Tom Hamilton ; "fiction is your forte." 
 
 " You are too kind," said Mr. Darius ; " but though men say truth 
 lies in a well, yet, in this instance, the truth is at hand, and we shall 
 have to bucket up the fiction : so, as we have little time, we had as well 
 take the truth, for want of something better. Having been in India, 
 then, where you first met me — Ah! those were happy times, Mr. 
 Hamilton. I was sub-editor of the * Poonah Kuzzilbash' then ; that 
 was a slashing journal ; how we did cut up the governor-general, and 
 all the members of council. However, there's no fear ; I'll make a 
 story such as would defy the devil himself to separate the truth from 
 the falsehood. We journalists can always do that ; truth, like gold^ 
 is infinitely divisible, and a very few grains will serve to gild many 
 hundred weight of the other thing. Give me ten minutes, and I can 
 do it at any time. But where was the girl born? Where did her 
 parents live ?" 
 
 " Oh, at Market Greenford, Market Greenford," replied Tom 
 Hamilton. 
 
 But Mr. Darius was called upon to exercise his inventive faculties 
 more speedily than he expected, for scarcely were the words Market 
 Greenford out of Tom Hamilton's mouth, when the door of the library 
 opened, and in walked the Honourable Augustus Frederick, or Frede- 
 rick Augustus, leading in, tucked under his arm, Jane, the housemaid, 
 in her after-dinner dress, blushing up to the eyes, and looking as pretty 
 as possible. There was something touching, as a sentimental novelist 
 would say, in the way in which Mr. Fitzurse managed the matter. He 
 held her close to him — it might be to steady his steps — but kept her 
 a little in advance towards Mr. Darius, as if he said to himself, " If this 
 bloody Hector slay me, he must strike me through her we both love !" 
 
 It was pathetic — it was tragic ; and Darius, who had a taste for the 
 drama, instantly caught the tone and starting slightly, gazed for a 
 moment in Jane's face, as if a thousand bewildering, but charming 
 
DE LUNATICO INOUIRBNDO. 311 
 
 recollections rushed upon his mind. Then darting forward with 
 extended arms, he folded her to his breast, exclaiming, " It is I It must 
 be ! It ought to be, even if it isn't ! My sweet cousin ! My dear Jane !" 
 and here he held up his right hand and both his eyes to heaven, and 
 would fain have wept — but he couldn't. 
 
 Poor Jane was very much affected ; and Mr. Fitzurse had nearly fallen 
 flat upon his back. But instantly Mr. Darius seized him by the wrist 
 with one hand) took Jane's delicate fingers with the other, and 
 dragged them both forward towards Tom Hamilton, like Norma, 
 with her pretty little illegitimates. Then freeing the wrist of the 
 Honourable Frederick, he waved his hand, and taking Tom Hamilton 
 for the audience, spoke the following speech : — 
 
 " This is the most touching moment of my life. How sweet, how 
 trebly sweet, when, after wandering far in distant lands, friendless and 
 lonely, with my heart sighing for the sweet relationships of life, I return 
 to my native land, and find so fair a flower as this, grown up from the 
 parent stock from which I sprung, and ready to entwine in matrimonial 
 union with this sturdy scion of a high and honourable tree — Do you 
 recollect me, cousin ?" 
 
 "No, indeed, sir," replied Jane, m the simplest possible tone, I 
 never saw you before, that I remember." 
 
 " Ah, your young eyes were innocent of mischief when I left these 
 shores," said Mr. Darius. 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha !" cried Mr. Fitzurse, who was beginning to recover 
 from his apprehension, and willing to become a little famiHar with his 
 tall cousin, " mischievous enough now." 
 
 " Sir !" said Mr. Darius, in a tone that made Mr. Fitzurse dwindle 
 into nothing in a moment, " may I ask you to repeat what you said ?'* 
 
 " Oh, nothing at all, nothing at all," said Mr. Fitzurse in a great 
 hurry, while Jane could almost have cried, at finding herself, for the 
 first time, with one so ready to take her part. " I only said they were 
 very pretty little wicked eyes as ever I saw." 
 
 " Wicked ?" said Mr. Darius, turning with a aoubtful look towards 
 Tom Hamilton — " Wicked ? That's complimentary, I think ?" 
 
 " Decidedly !" said Tom Hamilton ; " but come, come, my good 
 friend, you are always too quick and peppery ; sit down and tell us all 
 about yourself. I recollect you in India, filling a very comfortable 
 situation, but of your previous history I know nothing." 
 
 " My story shall be told in a minute," replied the tall man, unbend 
 ing from his tragic airs, and the party being seated around, he pro- 
 ceeded, with vast powers of composition, and a somewhat jocular air, 
 as follows : — 
 
 " 1 was born in the little town of Market Greenford, but as I have 
 not seen it for many years, (he never saw it in his life,) I will not 
 attempt to give a particular account of it." 
 
 " You need not," said Mr. Fitzurse, " for we all know it quite well." 
 
 " WeU," continued Mr. Darius, " my father, the uncle of this fair 
 lady, who was a tall man like myself " 
 
 ** My father was very short and fat," said Jane. 
 
312 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 " That's what I was going to observe," said Mr. Danus ; " my 
 father, who was a very tall man, like myself, carried off all the length 
 of the family ; and at an early period he entered an honourable pro- 
 fession, the apprentices of which receive, instead of paying, a fee. 
 With that fee, which amounted to about one pound ten, he commenced 
 his career ; and in the ranks of his brethren he soon got up — I mustn't 
 say he rose, for he couldn't be well higher than he was, being six feet 
 four without his shoes. In the course of time he became a sergeant, 
 but whether in the court, or the camp, I must leave you to divine. 
 Finding himself then in a state to maintain a family, he married my 
 mother, who was the widow of a general merchant, and had seen a 
 great deal of life, and not a little of death too, having been, with her 
 husband, entangled in some transactions with the army, to which they 
 became commissioners of supply. On the decease of her first husband, 
 who died in a more elevated situation than he had ever hoped to obtain, 
 through some unfortunate accident, which produced nearly the same 
 effects as a quinsy, she did not long remain a widow, for her charms 
 and her spirit soon won the affections of my father, and I was the first 
 and only fruit of their union." 
 
 *' La," said Jane. 
 
 " Of all the heroes of antiquity," continued the tall gentleman, 
 " whom my father had ever heard of, the great Persian, whose name I 
 bear, was the one he admired most, because he was chosen king by 
 the neighing of a horse." 
 
 *' Pray why did that render him so peculiarly estimable ?" demanded 
 Tom Hamilton. 
 
 " Because most kings, when they are chosen at all, are chosen by 
 the braying of asses," replied Mr. Darius. " However, Darius was I 
 called, and after a certain lapse of time, my father retired from the 
 profession he had embraced, and took to the cure of soles." 
 
 " What ! turned parson I suppose ?" said Mr. Fitzurse. 
 
 " Excuse me, sir," said the tall man, " but the soles he dealt with 
 were of a different kind. Though he exercised several of the offices 
 of a parson upon them ; occasionally bored them, sometimes joined 
 them together, hammered away at them a great deal, and did the last 
 offices for them, yet he wasn't a parson, properly so called. Well, I 
 went on growing, as you may imagine, and my worthy parent, who 
 was himself a man of education, determined that 1 should have the 
 same advantages as himself, so he sent me to school, through which I 
 passed with some eclat. My father made the schoolmaster a present 
 annually, of a leathern strap, with which our lessons used to be im- 
 pressed upon our memories and the palms of our hands with great 
 vigour and discretion. Twice every day, morning and evening, my 
 hand used to receive the friendly and beneficial print of this tough 
 piece of hide ; but at length the master took to flogging as well as 
 strapping, and thought fit to whip me twice in one day. By this time, 
 I was sixteen, taller than himself and well nigh as stout. Now, my 
 father having been a sergeant^ as I said, I had a natural dislike to 
 corporal punishment, so 1 lay in btd all night, thinking how I could 
 
1>B LUNATICO UiQUIRENDO. 313 
 
 revenge myself. At length a bright idea crossed my mind : he has 
 flogged me, I thought, so hang me if I don't flog him ; and the next 
 morning, having laid my plan with two fellow-sufferers, we caught 
 the master in the school-room, tied his hands, seized upon the birch, 
 and applied four-and-twenty good sounding lashes upon the most 
 fleshy part of his person. He did not like it at all ; and as may be 
 conceived, after such a performance, it was high time for me to quit 
 school, which I did instanter, without asking if the holy days had begun. 
 Home I dared not go, and so I went away to my aunt's — your poor 
 dear mother's, Jane. She was a pretty little woman, as ever I set eyes on." 
 
 " La, she was very tall," said Jane. 
 
 " Ay, that was what I was going to observe," said Mr. Darius, who 
 was a grand master of humbug. " She was tall, compared with her 
 husband, but nevertheless, she was small for her size, especially about 
 the waist, and you can't deny that she had a very pretty little foot 
 and ancle like yourself" 
 
 " Ay, that she had, I do believe," said Jane, with a sweet smile, and 
 Mr. Darius proceeded — 
 
 " I then enlisted in a corps that was going to India." 
 
 " Pray was it not the horse-marines ?" said Tom Hamilton, who had 
 enjoyed himself greatly. 
 
 " No," answered Mr. Darius ; " it was a regiment of heavy infantry, 
 where every man was obliged to be six feet and an inch ; and as I 
 measured that height, I was readily admitted. Having arrived in 
 India, I distinguished myself greatly, as you know, Mr. Hamilton, in the 
 attack upon the caves of Elephanta, and the storming of the heights of 
 Persepolis. I rose gradually, and had I been able to purchase, might 
 soon have been colonel of the regiment ; but first came that unfortu- 
 nate affair, when I shot young Smith, you know ; and then you recol- 
 lect, Hamilton, my duel with the general, poor fellow." 
 
 " Oh, perfectly, perfectly," said Tom Hamilton, while Mr. Fitzurse 
 got to the other side of his chair, and turned very cold about the feet 
 and hands. 
 
 " I didn't intend to kill him," continued Mr. Darius, " but he would 
 have it ; and after that it was quite vain to think of promotion in the 
 army, so I laid down the sword, and took up the pen, in following 
 which I was nearly as successful ; so that having at last made a com- 
 fortable little independence, I visited the great wall of China, made a 
 pleasure tour to Kamtchatka, spent a very delightful day with the Sultan 
 of Borneo, when I helped him to cut off the heads of fifty of his great 
 nobles who had rebelled against him, and then turning my steps home- 
 ward, I touched at New South Wales, where I spent a week very 
 agreeably, in shooting off kangaroos' tails with my duelling pistols — 
 very good practice, you know, Hamilton." 
 
 " The monster !" murmured Mr. Fitzurse to himself. 
 
 " I then went to New Zealand and the Tonga Islands," continued 
 Mr. Darius, " where the chiefs received me with the greatest kindness, 
 and feasted me during three weeks upon men's livers, and young ladies' 
 noses. Don't be alarmed, my dear Jane, they were only black women. 
 
314 tHE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 you know, and it does not much matter whether they have noset 
 or not.*' 
 
 « Oh !" said Jane. 
 
 " I learnt there to dance their war-dance," continued Mr. Darius, 
 "and could dance it as well as a native. Shall I show it to you 
 
 now 
 
 p» 
 
 " Oh, by all means, by all means," replied Mr. Fitziu'se, who was 
 determined to be as civil as possible. 
 
 " Well, then, here's for you," cried Mr. Darius, starting up, and 
 pulling off his coat and waistcoat. " Put back the chairs, quick, quick ! 
 Make a circle round, and every one, as I dance, sing as loud as they 
 can bawl. Twang, twang-ho-fung, foodle-loodle-doo. Now begin, now 
 begin. I ought to be naked by rights, but perhaps youll excuse that. 
 — Now then, twang, twang-ho-fung, foodle-loodle-doo !" 
 
 " Twang, twang-ho-fung, foodle-loodle-doo," cried Tom Hamilton, 
 roaring with laughter. 
 
 " Tweng, tweng-hoo-fing. tweedle-leedle-doo," cried Mr. Fitzurse, 
 who did not well know what to make of the matter. 
 
 " Twang, twang-ho-fung, foodle-loodle-doo," cried Jane, almost in 
 hysterics with excitement, astonishment, and fright. 
 
 In the meantime, Mr. Darius began his exhibition, and danced away 
 in the midst, like a bedlamite, jumping five or six feet from the 
 ground, waving his hands, kicking out his feet, contorting his body, 
 grinning diabolically, and shouting forth with the full strength of his 
 lungs, twang, twang-ho-fung, foodle-loodle-doo ! 
 
 Now he approached Jane, who shrunk into a corner; and after 
 making himself into the image of a Russian spread-eagle, he whirled 
 round seven times upon his heel, like a Turkish dervise. Then he 
 rushed towards Tom Hamilton, and contorted himself into every sort 
 of shape, while Tom literally shrieked with laughter ; and then, after 
 spinning round for two or three minutes, like a teetotum, he snatched 
 the poker from the fire-place, brandished it round his head, like the 
 sails of a mill, and darted upon Mr. Fitzurse. 
 
 " Twang, twang-ho-fung, foodle-loodle-doo," shouted Mr. Fitzurse, 
 terrified out of his wits, at the ferocious savage he had brought upon 
 himself. 
 
 But the charm seemed to have lost its effect, or Mr. Darius 
 to have gone stark-staring mad, for seizing his unhappy victim by the 
 throat, he cast him prostrate on the ground, shortening the poker at 
 the same time, and vociferating in a sort of hoarse recitative, 
 
 " Now I've got him ! now I'll scalp hira 
 Where's the man that now can help him ?" 
 
 At that very moment, however, the door of the library opened, and 
 in rushed the viscount, Mr. Winterton, Jerry Tripe, and half-a-dozen 
 lackeys, each exclaiming, " What's the matter ? What's the matter ? In 
 the name of fortune, ivhat's the matter ?" 
 
 « Twang, twang-ho-fung, foodle-loodle-doo," cried Tom Hamilton, 
 
i 
 
 I 
 
!■ 
 
DE LUNATIGO INQUIEENDO. 315 
 
 coming forward, and skilfully covering the retreat of Jane by the 
 opposite door. " Only the war-dance of the Tonga Islands, my lord ; 
 don't meddle with him ! don*t meddle with him just at present ! I'll 
 soon calm him, I'll soon calm him ;" and drawing Mr. Darius off the 
 prostrate Fitzurse, he waved his hand gracefully, saying, " Leave him 
 to me, leave him to me ; he'll soon be as gentle as a lamb." 
 
 Mr. Fitzurse crept out of the library door upon all-fours, calling to 
 the rest of the party, " Come away, come away, he's the devil incar- 
 nate, I think ;" and after gazing for a moment in stupified astonish- 
 ment at Tom Hamilton and Mr. Darius, the viscount and the rest of 
 the party beat their retreat, and left the two to indulge in explosions 
 of laughter, which shook a cloud of dust from the books around. 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 AN AFFLICTED FAMILY — ^THE PBOOBESS OF A COOKS BEVENOE NEW USE OF 
 
 AN ALABM BELL BE8TORED XBANQUILLITT THE CHBYALIEB PUTS VABIOUS 
 
 THINGS TOGETHEB A BUTLEB's HEBOISM. 
 
 After the conclusidn of the war-dance of the Tonga Islands, an 
 interval of peace seemed to fall upon Outrun Castle. Tom Hamilton, 
 returning with Mr. Darius to the drawing-room, related to the viscount 
 as much of his friend's history as he thought fit, and explained that, 
 sometimes when dancing the war-dance, a host of memories regarding 
 the fine primeval state of happy innocence in which he had lived 
 amongst the natives of the pacific, would occasionally rush upon him, 
 and make him forget altogether that he had returned to our corrupt and 
 vicious state, he would take all sorts of little liberties with any other 
 human beings who might fall in his way, deprive them of the hair 
 and skin of the upper part of the head, or slightly fracture their skull 
 with any thing which he conceived to be a tomahawk, with the inno- 
 cent view of making a comfortable meal before he retired to rest. 
 
 This explanation did not seem at all satisfactory to the viscount, and 
 whether it was that he did not consider the society of Mr. Darius very 
 desirable, or that the account of his proceedings turned his stomach, 
 he replied to Tom Hamilton's account — 
 
 " Very well, Tom, very well, Tom, keep him to yourself, keep him to 
 yourself. By jingo, I don't like such fellows. Chain your bear, man ! 
 chain your bear ! and send him away as soon as possible : in the 
 meantime I'll go to bed, for I don't feel very easy about the stomach. 
 My craw has been out of order ever since I ate those cursed truffles ;" 
 
31^ THE commissioner; or, 
 
 and away he went, his departure being a signal for the party to 
 disperse, after the arrangement of some plans for the following day 
 between Tom Hamilton, Mr. Darius, and the honourable scion of the 
 house of Outrun. 
 
 For about two hours solemn silence dwelt over Outrim Castle ; but 
 then some one was heard moving. Shortly after other steps were 
 heard, and doors closed and opened. The viscount, whose eyes had 
 only been shut for half an hour, and had then been forced open again 
 by sundry pains and pinches in the abdominal region, rang his bell 
 exactly at a quarter past three o'clock in the morning ; and the good 
 stout cook, who was lying on her back in bed, with her head pillowed 
 on her arm, chuckled till she threw herself into a perspiration at the 
 sound of the tinkling, and muttered — 
 
 " Ay, ring away, you'll not have done with it for these six hours, if 
 I'm right. I'd give a groat to see him, that I would. I dare say he's 
 all doubled up, like a boiled lobster." 
 
 In five or ten minutes more the viscount rang again, and Jerry 
 Tripe, who had heard the first bell, but could not conveniently attend 
 to it at the moment, issued forth with a candle in his hand, looking 
 somewhat dolorous himself. At the foot of the staircase, he met Tom 
 Hamilton, who passed him without saying a word. At the first landing- 
 place was Mr. Winterton, who, recognising the butler's face, asked 
 him the way back to his bed- room, received directions and passed on. 
 
 " Jerry, Jerry," said the voice of the Honourable Augustus Frede- 
 rick, " I wish you'd make me a glass of warm brandy and water ; I've 
 got a confounded pain in my stomach. 
 
 " It won't do, sir," said Jerry ; " I've tried it, and I'm worse than 
 before." 
 
 " I should like some, though," said Mr. Fitzurse, with a strange 
 contortion of countenance. 
 
 " There goes my lord's bell again," cried Jerry ; " he's got a pain, 
 too, I'll bet any money ;" and away he went to the viscount's chamber, 
 and found his lord and master sitting up in bed under his nightcap, 
 with his eyes rolling wildly in his head, and his two hands clasped 
 upon his goodly paunch. 
 
 "Why, are you all drunk, or deaf, or stupid?' cried the peer. 
 " Here am I with the devil of a colic, and I can get nobody to come 
 to me. Get me some fomentations ; I shall die, Fm sure I shall die ! 
 Where's Freddy — where's my son ?" 
 
 " He's got the colic, too,*' said Jerry, « and so have I, and so has 
 
 every body, I think I'm sure those copper saucepans are not rightly 
 
 tinned — the kitchen-maid doesn't clean them properly." 
 
 " By jingo, I'll horsewhip her," cried the peer ; « make some fomen- 
 tations, I say ; I shall die I'm sure ! I never was so twisted to pieces 
 in my life ; send Freddy here ; I should like to give him my blessing 
 before I go." 
 
 " His blessing !" said Jerry Tripe, lolling his tongue into his cheek, 
 and shrugging his shoulder as he walked out of the room. 
 
 But before he had well delivered his message to Mr. Fitzurse, the 
 viscount's bell rang again, and the young gentleman and the butler 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIBENDO. 31? 
 
 nastening back together, found the peer sitting on the edge of the bed, 
 much in the same situation of a classical gentleman called " my man 
 John,** having " one stocking off and one stocking on,** but labouring 
 evidentl)- under a physical incapability of putting on the other ; for 
 every time he attempted to draw it over his foot, he was seized with a 
 violent and painful contortion, which caused him to kick the stocking 
 half across the room. 
 
 " Fm going, my dear boy !** he cried ; " I'm going ! Fve got such 
 an infernal pain in the stomach, Tm sure I*m going.** 
 
 " If that*8 any sign, Fm going with you,** said Mr. Fitzurse ; " for 
 I've got such cramps all over here'* — and he spread his hands over the 
 suffering part — " that I can scarcely hold myself up ; and so has Tom 
 Hamilton, too, for he's wandering about just like a ghost." 
 
 " What can we do ?" cried the viscount, who had obtained a 
 moment's relief. 
 
 " Ugh !** I don't know," replied his son, whose turn it was to suffer, 
 and who was now writhing like an eel on an eel-spear. 
 
 " Would your lordship like some punch ?** said Jerry Tripe, with an 
 eye to his own benefit. 
 
 " Punch ?" cried the viscount ; " that's just the thing — " 
 
 " Punch cures the gout, the colic, and the phthisic, 
 And it is to every man the very best of physic.*' 
 
 " Get the punch, get the punch, Jerry." 
 
 " Send for a doctor,** groaned Mr. Fitzurse ; " send for that damned 
 old fellow Longshanks ; he*s a knowing hand ; I can't bear this ; it's 
 arsenic, Fm sure." 
 
 " Get the punch, Jerry, get the punch," cried the peer. " By jingo, 
 it's coming on again, and I must have something to support natiu-e." 
 
 Jerry moved a step towards the door, but ere he reached it he 
 tottered, a sudden pang shot through his viscera, and despite of his 
 reverence for his superiors, he sank into a chair, drawing his knees up 
 to his chin, and grinning horribly a ghastly smile. 
 
 " I can't," he cried, " I can't ! I shall never reach the pantry." 
 
 " What's to be done ?" cried the peer. 
 
 " Oh !'* roared Jerry. 
 
 " Ring the alarm bell,** said Mr. Fitzurse. 
 
 By jingo, we must have some help," replied his father ; and both 
 making a desperate dart at the door together, they rushed into the 
 passage, where hung the rope of the great bell ; and catching it in a 
 conviJsive grasp, they tolled a peal that made the country round ring 
 for miles. 
 
 An instant commotion was created in the house, and every soul 
 in it but the cook was soon a-foot. How she did chuckle as she lay in 
 bed ! The first who appeared was Tom Hamilton ; then came Mr. 
 Darius : Mr. Winterton, who had ate more, appeared last among the 
 guests. The maids and men, v/ho had fared at the same table with the 
 cook, were all comfortably buried in the arms of slumber ; but the 
 
318 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 continual ringing of the alarm bell soon brought the whole household 
 to the door of their lord's chamber. Punch was manufactured ; fomen- 
 tations were prepared, and a messenger was sent off for Mr. Long- 
 shanks, bearing a sad and doleful account of the state of Outrun 
 Castle and its inhabitants. 
 
 The peer, Tom Hamilton, Mr. Darius, and Mr. Fitzurse, drank 
 deep, and certainly received a degree of relief, but still the potent 
 moving cause within them gave them very little internal peace till 
 about nine o'clock the next morning, when some repose began to come 
 upon them, and Tom Hamilton, who felt his high manly powers some- 
 what degraded by the peculiar sort of torture he had suffered, walked 
 off to bed, saying as little upon the subject as possible. 
 
 " I theenk I could fall asleep now," said the honourable scion. 
 
 " Ay, do go and try, Freddy," said the peer ; " I'll get a nap, too, 
 if I can. I wish that fellow Longshanks would come, for I declare 
 there must be something wrong with those pots and kettles." 
 
 Ere these proposed manoeuvres could be carried into execution, 
 while Mr. Fitzurse was undergoing one final pinch, and the peer paused 
 at his bedside, asking himself if it were not coming back again, the 
 bell at the great door rang, and Mr. Longshanks, followed by the 
 Chevalier de Lunatico, walked into the hall of Outrun Castle. 
 
 " How is your master, puppy ?" demanded the surgeon of the foot- 
 man who opened the door. 
 
 " Very bad, sir," replied the man, who knew Mr. Longshanks's 
 humour, and did not venture to quarrel with the epithet he bestowed 
 upon him. 
 
 " Well, if he's not dead," said Mr. Longshanks, " it's a good thing 
 for him, and a bad thing for the country. I suppose this gentleman 
 can't speak with him ?" 
 
 " Lord bless you, sir," replied the man. 
 
 " Well, I must see somebody," said the chevalier ; " so my good 
 friend, have the kindness to tell one Jeremiah, alias Jerry Tripe, to 
 speak with me for a moment or two ;" and tapping his boot gently 
 with his riding-whip, the chevalier looked with his peculiar impressive 
 and commanding expression in the man's countenance. 
 
 " Why, Jerry's well nigh as bad as my lord," replied the servant ; 
 "but I think he's a little better now, for I saw him sitting in the 
 pantry, with a cloth over his face, to keep the flies off his nose ; and he 
 was snoring so hard, that he blew the napkin up and down, and made 
 a sort of fan of it." 
 
 " Then he's either better, or in a fit of apoplexy," said Mr. Longshanks ; 
 " and you may wake him in either case — if you can. While I go and 
 see that old fool the peer, you go into the drawing-room, cheval'er, 
 and see that old knave the butler ; if you can make any thing of him, 
 you're a wiser man than I take you to be, or a greater rogue than 
 himself." 
 
 The chevalier stepped lightly along into the drawing-room, which, 
 as he expected, he found untenanted ; and as he was one of those men 
 who never waste a minute, he looked round for something with which 
 
DE LUNATICO I19QT7IREKDO. 319 
 
 to amuse or instruct himself. Two or three small pictures were the 
 first things that caught his eye. There was the portrait of the viscount, 
 when he was young, representing him as rather a good-looking, swag- 
 gering, rakehelly dare-devil — to use two or three good old words, now 
 nearly obsolete — ^with a horsewhip in his hand. Then there was 
 another portrait, an inscription under which pronounced it to be the 
 likeness of Catherine Viscountess Outrun, one of those pale-eyed, 
 hyena-looking women, who require the resources of matrimony to carry 
 off the superabundant virulence of their spleen upon their husband and 
 children ; or woe betide the neighbourhood which they inhabit in a 
 state of celibacy. Then came a third, a young lady in a Joseph, 
 representing the same personage whose portrait we have already 
 described in the picture gallery. 
 
 The reader may recollect, perhaps, that the chevalier had never 
 beheld that portrait, but the one which was now before him he contem- 
 plated for several minutes with great interest. A peculiar expression 
 came into his face ; he laid the index of his right hand upon his pro- 
 boscis, then took a thoughtful turn up the room, and then returned to 
 the picture. 
 
 A few seconds more seemed to satisfy him on that score, and his 
 eyes fell upon a large book which lay, somewhat dusty, under one of 
 the old-fashioned carved and gilt pier tables. He took it out, laid it 
 down before him, and opened it. It was a Bible, bearing date 1660 ; 
 and in a large blank leaf in the beginning was a long Ust of names 
 and dates, showing it to be one of those old family bibles in which 
 fond parents chronicle the births of their children — sad records, in the 
 end, of every mortal joy and hope. 
 
 The chevalier run his eye down the list, and read a brief accoxmt of 
 several Barons Fitzurse ; then perceived how they became Viscounts 
 Outrun ; but that was a matter of very little interest to him, so he 
 went to the end of the list, at which he found the name of the Honour- 
 able Henry Frederick Augustus. About him he cared not two straws, 
 as the reader may well believe, but the name that stood above was one 
 which seemed to please him better, for his eye rested on it thoughtfully. 
 It was a lady's name, and stood immediately under that of the viscount, 
 with some ten or twelve years between them, and as he read it over for 
 the fifth time, he rubbed the tip of his finger slowly backwards and 
 forwards on a bald place upon his temple, and then walked up to the 
 picture again, and took another look at it. 
 
 While he was still gazing, the door opened, and in came Jerry 
 Tripe. Jerry was evidently better ; whatever it was that had affected 
 him had lost its power, and though his face was, perhaps, a shade 
 paler, the jewel that he carried on his head less brilliant, the " lan- 
 tern in his poop" less resplendent, still he bore a bright and cheerful 
 countenance, and came in with a step of wonderful elasticity. 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Luny,** he cried, " I'm glad to see you. How wags the 
 world with you, old gentleman ? We have had one or two sad bouts 
 of it since you and I last met. I haven't had a moonlight ramble, or 
 what I call a frolic, for I don't know the day ; so the exchequer's very 
 
320 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 empty. You have not got a few pictures of his majesty, set in gold, 
 to give away, have you, my dear shuveleer ?" 
 
 « It depends upon circumstances," said the chevalier drily. " I have 
 got a twenty-pound note in my pocket for any one who chooses to 
 give me a few true answers to a question or two I have to put to 
 them." 
 
 " That's it, that's it," replied Jerry, putting his hands in his breeches 
 pockets, and gazing in the face of the chevalier with what may be 
 called an up-to-any-thing expression of countenance ; " that's it, that's 
 it ! Put your questions, old gentleman, put your questions ! You be 
 Oddipus, and I'll be the Minx, as the classical gentlemen call it." 
 
 The chevalier advanced a step towards him, laid his finger on his arm, 
 and said, " Come here !" Then advanced slowly to the picture of the 
 lady in the Joseph, pointed his digit towards it, and said, ** Who is that ?" 
 
 " Why my lord's sister as was, to be sure," replied Mr. Tripe ; 
 ** didn't you know that, old gentleman ?" 
 
 The chevalier made no reply to this last innocent interrogatory of 
 Mr. Tripe's, but led him to the table, pointed to the name in the book, 
 and then to the picture. 
 
 Jerry Tripe nodded. 
 
 " When did you last see her son ?" demanded the chevalier. 
 
 The whole fat mass of Jerry Tripe started profoundly ; and he 
 gaped in the face of the chevalier, without a word of answer. 
 
 Come, come," cried Mr. de Lunatico, " tell me all about it !" 
 
 Now, strange to say, and hardly to be believed, Jeremiah Tripe, 
 Esquire, had his own peculiar notions of honour. Almost everybody 
 has some certain dark corner of the heart, in which the unhappy and 
 defeated remnant that remains unkilled of the army of good feelings 
 and high principles with which we usually commence the warfare of 
 the world, takes refuge, as a last strong-hold, to be defended to the 
 utmost. Such was the case with Jerry Tripe. He was not particu- 
 larly famous for principles of any kind ; but he would not betray his 
 master. He shook his head resolutely, saying — 
 
 " No, no, old gentleman, that won't do ! Any thing about myself 
 that you like ; but hang it, I won't blab." 
 
 " A twenty-pound note !" said the chevalier. 
 
 " Not for twenty thousand," replied Jerry Tripe. 
 
 " I suppose you know I can hang you, if I like ?" observed the 
 chevalier. 
 
 " Not unlikely," answered Jerry Tripe ; « but I don't think you'll 
 doit." ^ 
 
 " As sure as you and I are alive," replied the chevalier ; "for to the 
 bottom of this bad business I will get." 
 
 I'll die game !" answered Jerry Tripe, without a moment's con- 
 sideration, and away he walked out of the room. 
 
DE LU.NATICO INQUTREHDO. 321 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 NOUS 3EVEN0NS A NOS MOUTONS — THE READER IS INSTRUCTED IN THE WAT TO 
 
 GET ON LAURA ENTERTAINS ARISTOCRATICAL NOTIONS WHAT IS PRODUCED 
 
 IN THE EPIGASTRIC REGION OF FANCY FOOTMEN A TALL MAN DOES TOWARDS 
 
 HER WHAT MOST MORTALS DO TOWARDS THEMSELVES, MISTAKES HBB WANTS 
 
 HOW TO JUDGE OF A MAn's MASTER. 
 
 We have done great injustice to Laura Longmore — we have left her 
 for three or four chapters without saying one single word of her fate 
 and fortunes ; and even now, reader, we can but bestow a short space 
 upon her, as we are hurrying rapidly towards the end of the first part 
 of the chevalier's memoirs, and to the sad consummation of that history 
 with which his adventures have been so intimately bound up. We left 
 Laura Longmore then, pretty Laura Longmore, running over the corner 
 of a ploughed field, towards a village church which rose up from some 
 trees at a little distance. Her course was the image of human life, reader, 
 or rather of human desires, for eager to get at her object, Laura's delicate 
 small feet tripped rapidly over the furrows, stumbling at this clod, 
 tumbling over that ridge, sinking into the soft ground, and cutting them- 
 selves against the hard stones, till she found, as every one else will find, 
 if they try, that, The way to get on quickly^ is not to go too fast. It is 
 a sage apothegm, reader, wliich I commend to your kindly considera- 
 tion. If you be young you have it to learn, if you be old you have learnt 
 it already. 
 
 She slackened her pace towards the end of the field, she picked her 
 steps from ridge to ridge, and she made twice the way in the same time 
 that she made before. At the end of the field, as I have before assured 
 the reader, there was a small path crossing a clover field, and then a 
 hedge with a stile, and then another field with two men ploughing in it. 
 W^hile she was going through the clover field, Laura continued in a 
 great fright, with her heart beating at a terrible rate, and her eyes 
 every two or three steps turned over her shoulder to see if the madman 
 was pursuing her ; but when she had crossed the stile and saw the two 
 labourers, she asked herself whether she should run up to them and 
 claim their protection, or proceed straight-forward to the village which 
 was now close at hand, and seek shelter in the first house she could find. 
 She determined upon the latter course, for notwithstanding all she had 
 heard and read of, concerning the higher orders of society, she had got 
 a notion, which, perhaps, was not quite so incorrect after all as it may 
 appear at first sight in this democratic age — that the spirit of chivalry is 
 not altogether extinct in the bosoms of the gentlemen of England, and 
 that it is no bad thing in its way when one can find it. 
 
 She walked on then, and passed through a gate into a little country 
 lane with a hedge on either side. Soon after, she came to another gate, 
 but this was of a different kind, for it was of that size, shape, and 
 complexion, which usually gives entrance to the grounds of a gen- 
 tleman's house. It was a neat, fresh-painted gate, pleasant to look 
 c — NO. XI. y 
 
322 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 upon, and it led into a nice gravel walk of about a hundred yards in 
 .ength, at the end of which one came to a carriage sweep and the door of a 
 house with a little pointed porch covered with ivy. Laura Longmore 
 looked four or five times at the bell before she could make up her mind 
 to ring it, but at length thinking, " Surely no gentleman will refuse me 
 shelter and protection," she took heart of grace and gave it a good pull. 
 
 The bell rang loud enough, but it was unsuccessful in bringing any 
 respondent to the door. Laura determined to try again after waiting 
 some five minutes, and this time she succeeded in bringing forth a tall, 
 grim, supercilious-looking man, in a grey coat with brass buttons, 
 bearing in the centre of them the head of some sort of beast, such as 
 never was, and probably never will be seen in living form upon the 
 earth. The tall footman looked at the young lady from head to foot, 
 and seeing that she was dressed in somewhat anomalous apparel, he 
 instantly conceived that it was an excellent opportunity of venting some 
 of that superabundant insolence which is generated in large quantities 
 in the epigastric region, just between the spleen and the liver of all fancy 
 footmen, and is supposed to proceed from drinking strong ale and the 
 ends of bottles of Madeira, together with the relics of patties and 
 vol-au-vents. 
 
 " You seem in a mighty hurry, good woman," said the tall footman ; 
 " pray what may be your very pressing business, and who do' you want ?" 
 
 Now the last question was a puzzling one to Laura Longmore, for as 
 she had not the most distant idea of whose was the door at which she 
 stood, she could by no means specify the person whom she wished 
 to see. 
 
 " I desire to speak either to your master or your mistress,** she 
 replied, after a little hesitation, taking it for granted that every house 
 had either a master or a mistress. 
 
 The man grinned contemptuously. 
 
 " My lady is not up," he said, " and won't be up for this three 
 hours ; and as for my master the doctor, the reverend gentleman's busy, 
 and won't like to be disturbed for such a one as you — though he has no 
 objection to a pretty face either." 
 
 " I should wish to see him, nevertheless," replied Laura Longmore, 
 somewhat indignant. " I rather suspect you mistake what 1 am." 
 
 " No, no," replied the man, with a sneer, " there's no mistake, I see 
 what you are well enough. It's you have come to the wrong house, 
 young woman, so you may take your letter, or petition, or whatever it is 
 somewhere else. My master's not such a fool as to attend to any thing 
 like that. If he did see you he would only commit you for a vagrant, 
 so you had better be off"." 
 
 Poor Laura burst into tears, but the fancy footman continued — 
 
 " Come, come, don't stand blubbering there. If you want a fool's 
 house where you'll be listened to, you must walk a mile down the lane, 
 there you'll see a place on the right-hand side with a flower garden round 
 it. It belongs to an oddity, who'll damn your eyes, and most likely give 
 you half a guinea. Nobody was ever turned away there, for the 
 servants are as big fools as the master." 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 323 
 
 Thus saying he went in and shut the door, and Laura retreated down 
 the gravel walk, resolved to take her way to what he called the fool's 
 house, not doubting that, perhaps she had escaped worse treatment by 
 not seeing the tall footman's reverend master; for if the Spanish proverb 
 be a true one — " tell me the man's company and I will tell you the man," 
 we might with almost equal justice say in England, " Show me the 
 servant, and I will tell you the master." 
 
 CHAPTER LIIL 
 
 THE TEMPER OP MOONLIGHT A COBN-LAW LECTURE THE CHEVALIER IN THE 
 
 WAT— MR. DARIUS UNDERTAKES MORE THAN HE CAN MANAGE — A SHOCKING 
 MISTAKE. 
 
 Having now done justice to Laura Langmore, though not that ample 
 justice which our hearts would prompt us to show to one so sweet 
 and amiable, we must turn to a person no less important whom we left 
 in a certain chamber of Outrun Castle. 
 
 The chevalier stood tapping his boot with his riding cane. He was 
 not astonished at the determination of Jerry Tripe. No, reader, he was 
 not astonished. To be astonished at any thing was .quite out of the 
 cool, calm, reasoning character of the Chevalier de Lunatico. Nil 
 admirari is the motto of the moon. Look at the light of the beautiful 
 planet, reader, as it rests calm upon a bank ; there is nothing like 
 astonishment in that ! Look at it as it floods the landscape before 
 your eyes, picking out tower and town, wood and stream. Dark shadows 
 and bright lights there are, but it is all cool, tranquil, and contempla- 
 tive. Look at it as it dances upon yon sparkling sea ; light and 
 brilliant as melted diamonds it certainly is, but still there is a graceful 
 peacefulness in it — nothing sudden — nothing startling — nothing having 
 the least affinity with surprise. No, no, the Chevalier de Lunatico 
 could not be astonished at any thing ; the moon-light that was in him 
 prevented that. He stood tapping his boot then, as we have said, with 
 his riding cane, saying to himself, " Well, we will see. My friend, 
 Jeremiah, you shall proceed to the county jail, and, moreover, you shall 
 have the benefit of a trial. Then if you still remain obdurate, what's to 
 be done with you next ? Why, I must send you to the moon, I suppose, 
 for undoubtedly under those circumstances you will well deserve a 
 ticket." 
 
 As he thus paused and thought the door opened, and a thin atrabi- 
 lious-looking gentleman sauntered in with a somewhat languid and 
 lack-a-daisical air. He looked at the chevalier with that sort of glance 
 which an Englishman always bestows upon any unfortunate stranger he 
 
324 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 may chance to find in the same house with himself— a sort of 
 " Are-you-a-pick-pocket?" expression of countenance. With a great 
 deal of shyness, a great deal of apprehension, and a great deal of self- 
 sufficiency in it a kind of mithridate composed of many things, and a 
 
 perfect antidote to all low acquaintances. The chevalier returned 
 the glance with his usual cool composure, having that light touch of 
 superciliousness in it, which his high functions and great powers very 
 well justified; but Mr. Winterton, for he was the personage wlio 
 entered, immediately felt under the influence of Mr. de Lunatico's 
 eye a strong inclination to approximate himself to his diplomatic 
 neighbour, and being also moved by another passion called hunger, he 
 said in a sweet and mellifluous tone — 
 
 " Pray, sir, can you tell me if breakfast is ready ?" 
 
 " I am not aware," replied the Chevalier de Lunatico ; " but, it 
 does appear to me that you have some need of what the French call 
 ' restauration.' " 
 
 " Indeed I have," cried Mr. Winterton, feelingly. " The fact is, we 
 have all been sufiering diabolically during the niglit by a certain spas- 
 modic afiection, for which I can find no appropriate term in the English 
 language, but which was called by the Romans ' Tormina' " 
 
 " Ah," said the chevalier, " you mean the gripes." 
 
 " Precisely," said Mr. Winterton. 
 
 " And may I ask," said the chevalier, " what was the cause of this 
 complaint ?" 
 
 " If it had affected myself alone," said Mr. Winterton, " I might have 
 conceived that it was indignation at the manner in which the verses I 
 recited were received, but every one in the whole house was as ill as 
 myself." 
 
 " Do you not think," said the chevalier, in a philosophical tone, 
 " that your verses might give them the gripes, and their inattention 
 give them to you ? 1 have known such an effect in verses before. 
 Recollect there are certain causes which act and re-act upon each other." 
 
 " No, sir, no," cried Mr. Winterton, highly indignant ; " my verses 
 were upon the infamous corn-laws, those horrible and detestable laws 
 which starve the millions, and they were of such a sublime and affecting 
 nature that they might touch the bowels of the most hard-hearted." 
 
 " That is exactly the effect I attribute to them," replied the cheva- 
 lier ; " but pray let me hear a little more of these corn-laws, my dear 
 sir. Some of your laws are funny things in this country, I know." 
 
 " Why, you must understand," said Mr. Winterton, " that those 
 rascals, the farmers, in time of war, when we could get little or no 
 grain from any other part of the world, laid out a great deal of money 
 in improving the land and rendering it capable of supplying the whole 
 country, or well nigh the whole country, with com. Well, then, we 
 have a heavy national debt, and the farmer is obliged to pay in taxes 
 his share of the interest. Thus, you see what, between what he has 
 spent himself, like a fool as he was, and what other people have spent 
 for him, it is utterly impossible that he can produce corn at the same 
 price as foreign farmers can produce it, and that if the ports were open 
 
DE JiUNATICO IWQUIRENDO. 325 
 
 for foreign farmers to throw in their corn, the English farmer must be 
 ruined, and go to the dogs or the devil." 
 
 " A very pleasant consummation for him," said the chevalier. 
 
 " Well," continued Mr. Winterton, " such being the case you see, a 
 set of rogues and fools have tried to prevent that by putting duties upon 
 the entrance of foreign corn, so that the English farmer can just repay 
 himself. The moment the price gets high the duty falls, and in comes 
 the foreign corn ; so long as the price is low the duty is high, and 
 foreign corn is kept out." 
 
 " And what is the result ?" said the chevalier. 
 
 "Why this," replied Mr. Winterton — "our manufacturers are obliged 
 to give higher wages to their labourers or artizans, or call them what you 
 will, consequently they cannot produce goods at as cheap a rate as they 
 otherwise could, consequently they cannot sell them so cheap to foreign 
 nations, and consequently consequently consequently " 
 
 " Go on," said the chevalier. 
 
 " Why, consequently they cannot make so much money," said Mr. 
 Winterton. 
 
 " That's a pity," said the chevalier. " I suppose, then, all your 
 principal manufacturers are terribly poor devils, without a shilling in 
 their pockets to bless themselves ?" 
 
 " Oh, dear, no," cried Mr. Winterton ; indignantly," they are as rich 
 us CrcBsus, rolling in wealth ! They do occasionally ruin themselves 
 with over speculation and over production, it is true ; but in general 
 they are made of money. That's the reason I am fond of them." 
 
 " Then, I suppose," said the chevalier, " they are in fact a race of 
 wealthy philanthropists M'ho originally set out with immense property, 
 and daily see it decreasing in their eftbrts to encourage manufactures by 
 carrying on trade even at a loss to themselves. They all begin trade, 
 of course, with five or six hundred thousand pounds in their pockets ?" 
 
 " Oh, dear, no," replied Mr. Winterton, " you are mistaken altoge- 
 ther : in almost every instance they have been the artizans of their own 
 fortune — a noble reputation, sir. I scarcely know one instance in 
 which either the actual mill-owner or his father did not either commence 
 business with little or nothing, or borrowed his capital to begin with." 
 * And now they are rolling in riches ?" said the chevalier 
 
 " Exactly," replied Mr. Winterton. 
 
 " But the farmer of course is still more wealthy," said Mr. de Lunatico. 
 
 ** Nonsense," cried Mr. Winterton ; "he is a poor devil who can scarcely 
 live. You never heard of such a thing as a farmer making a fortune." 
 
 " Indeed !" replied the chevalier. " Then let me ask you another 
 question. Are there most people employed in manufactures or in 
 agriculture ?" 
 
 " In agriculture, of course," replied his companion. 
 
 " And is the home trade or the foreign trade in your manufactures 
 the most important ?" asked the chevalier. 
 
 " Oh, the home trade, of course," replied Mr. Winterton. 
 
 " Ha," said the chevalier, " I understand the matter now perfectly. 
 The manufacturer makes an immense profit by his goods, and pays 
 
326 THE COMMISSIONER ; 0«, 
 
 his artizans as little as possible. He wishes to make his profits more 
 and to pay his artizans less, and in this laudable endeavour he is 
 frustrated by the protection given to the farmer for the expense and 
 labour he has been at in cultivation, and the taxes he is obliged to pay. 
 It is a very great pity, indeed, that in order to reduce the wages of his 
 workmen, and thereby increase the sale of his goods that he cannot 
 ruin both agriculturist and landowner altogether. Why does he not get 
 all his workmen to rise suddenly some dark night and butcher all the 
 farmers and landlords throughout the country in their sleep ? That 
 would be the plan we should follow in the moon, I think ; for you see 
 lunatics would never take into consideration that by destroying the 
 farmers and landlords we should ruin the home trade. Why don't 
 your friends do so ?" 
 
 " Oh, no, no," replied Mr. Winterton, " we manage much better 
 than that. You forget there are troops in the country, and laws, and 
 magistrates : no, no ; what we do is, we tell the artizans that if we get 
 the corn laws abolished they will have cheap bread. We tell them 
 moreover, that cheap bread will not produce the least diminution 
 in their wages. Then we go and tell the House of Commons that 
 cheap bread will produce lower wages, and lower wages cheap goods, 
 and cheap goods extended markets ; and if we find that the House of 
 Commons won't listen to us, we take every opportunity of making the 
 people discontented. We diminish their profits, we grind them down 
 with house rent, and frame rent, and charges for gas. We make them 
 buy at our shops, and pay them their wages as seldom as possible in 
 order that they may run in debt, and when the market is glutted we 
 do not decrease the number of hours that they work so as to diminish the 
 production ; but we decrease the price we pay per piece, so that we 
 get the same quantity of stuff but pay them less for it, and then 
 whatever we do that depresses or grieves them, we say, * It is all the 
 corn laws,* and assure them that we are deeply distressed and 
 anxious to improve their condition, that we commiserate their suffer- 
 ings, and are grieved beyond all conception at their starvation ; but 
 that a horribly corrupt parliament will not sweep away the corn laws 
 for fear of ruining the farmers and destroying the home trade. Thus 
 we urge them on till some time or another they will rise and make such 
 an outcry that all the members of both houses of parliament will be 
 frightened out of their wits, and sacrifice at one blow the agricultural 
 interests to that of the great manufacturers." 
 
 " But don't you think," said the chevalier, " that the artizans will 
 find you out, and when they rise, as you purpose, will attack the great 
 manufacturers first? I have generally remarked that people of that 
 kind, when excited too far, go direct to remedy the most pressing evil 
 before they strike at the remote cause, and I should think that they 
 would first attack and punish those who starve them by decreasing 
 their wages before they carried their views any farther." 
 
 " Indeed ! do you think so ?" cried Mr. Winterton, in a terrible 
 perspiration. 
 
 " Yes, indeed," replied the chevalier ; " and so much am I convmced 
 
BE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 327 
 
 of it that I will beg you to present these tickets to the principal 
 persons who are moving in this matter, as they are decided subjects of 
 the moon, and their presence is required at St. Luke's. I will also beg 
 you, my dear sir, to bestow these other tickets upon those philosophical 
 speculators who think that a great and heavy injury inflicted upon any 
 large body of the inhabitants of any country can be really beneficial 
 to any other part, especially those who have held such doctrines about 
 the corn laws ; for by your own showing it seems quite clear to me 
 that to do away those laws suddenly, and without some compensating 
 reduction of taxation to the farmer, would ruin not only the chief 
 agriculturist, but all the immense mass of people connected with agri- 
 culture, from the landlord to the labourer ; while on the other hand, 
 even the immediate gain would only be to a few hundred great manu- 
 facturers whose artizans would not be suffered to benefit in the slightest 
 degree whatsoever.'* 
 
 « But " said Mr. Winterton. 
 
 "I understand what you are going to say," said the chevalier, " and 
 I do not in the slightest degree mean to assert that if there be a possi- 
 bility of diminishing the general burdens which press upon all classes 
 of the community alike, the amount of protection given to the farmer 
 should not be diminished in that exact proportion ; for the only pre- 
 text for affording him the protection he receives, seems to be the impos- 
 sibility of his competing with countries where no such burdens exist. 
 The dimunition of the protection would then be beneficial to all classes 
 of the community, and be a blessing to the nation instead of a boon to 
 a gorged and greedy few, who are already over wealthy and are only 
 seeking to be more so. As it is, the motto upon their banners, instead 
 of cheap bread, ought to be semper avarus eget.'* 
 
 As the chevalier spoke a head was popped into the room, and was 
 instantly drawn back again. 
 
 " Mr. Fitzurse with black whiskers and a black wig,'' said the 
 chevalier to himself. 
 
 The next moment Tom Hamilton's head was popped in and with- 
 drawn ; and a minute after Mr. Darius put several feet of his length 
 through the half-open door-way, saying, " Winterton, Winterton, come 
 here, I want to speak with you." 
 
 Glad of an excuse to get away from an impleasant companion, Mr. 
 Winterton bowed to the chevalier and quitted the room. At the back 
 of the door he found the three personages whose successive appearance 
 and sudden occultation had been remarked by Mr. de Lunatico. They 
 were all holding a busy consultation together, Tom Hamilton saying, 
 " I tell you it is, I know him quite well. If he sees you he'll nose the 
 whole matter," 
 
 " That demmed nose of his is long enough for any thing," said Mr. 
 Fitzurse ; " but he caen't stop me if he does." 
 
 " But he may tell your father, and your father can," said Tom 
 Hamilton. 
 
 " Well, I caen't go without my breakfast," said Mr. Fitzurse ; " I ani 
 peculiar queer about the head and stomach." 
 
328 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 " Is there no other way into the breakfast-room ?" said Mr. Darius. 
 
 " No/* answered the honourable scion ; " that demmed fool Tripe, 
 told the footman to lay it in there." 
 
 " You go in, Mr. Darius," said Tom Hamilton ; " and wheedle him 
 away into the library. Get up some story — you can easily do that." 
 
 " In an instant," said Mr. Darius, " you ensconce yourself at the 
 back of the staircase." 
 
 " Take care what you are about," said Tom Hamilton ; " I don't 
 inow how, but that fellow gets one to tell him every thing in a 
 minute." 
 
 " Never fear, never fear," said Mr. Darius, with an air of conscious 
 capacity, " if he gets me to tell him any thing but what I choose, he's 
 worse than Baron Garrow, Harry Brougham, or Charley Phillips," and 
 while the rest of the party took shelter underneath the staircase, he 
 walked boldly in to confront the Chevalier de Lunatico. 
 
 Thou art a bold man indeed, Mr. Darius, but, alas, how wonder- 
 fully does all thine impudence melt away under the great diplomatist's 
 countenance. With his teeth shut, his lips slightly curled, his left eye 
 somewhat screwed up, and his pale, clear, dry skin slightly wrinkled, 
 Mr. de Lunatico stood and gazed upon him with so meaning a face 
 that Mr. Darius began to fancy he had heard the whole conversation 
 through the door. To give himself time to rally, the magnanimous 
 Darius made the chevalier a low bow. The chevalier drew his two 
 heels gracefully together, dropped his arms, and bowed his head as if 
 he were going to dance a minuet. Mr. Darius found that that mode of 
 attack would not do, and feeling his self-confidence beginning to ooze 
 out of the palms of his hands like the courage of Bob Acres, he deter- 
 mined to push a face, and advancing gracefully, he said, " Sir, I have 
 something to show you." 
 
 " Pray, sir, what is it ?" said the chevalier. 
 
 " Why, nothing at all," replied Mr. Darius, under the influence of 
 the chevalier's peculiar powers, " but simply you know, sir," he conti- 
 nued, making a great eifort for a lie, " I am one of the greatest 
 chemists that ever lived. When I was in the valley of Hunderabad, 
 which you know is north and by west of Cabul about a hundred and 
 twenty miles, I frightened the Rajah and all his court, and made them 
 take me for a magician. With my grand electrical machine I showed 
 them all the wonders of electrical magnetism. I exhibited to them an 
 immense mass of soft iron encircled by manifold plies of copper wire, 
 and I made them all put their daggers and scimitars underneath it, 
 and crying in a loud and solemn voice, ' Daggers and scimitars, stand 
 up,' I united the wire to the electrical machine, and up stood all the 
 daggers and scimitars on end. Then I cried, ' Daggers and scimi- 
 tars, lie down,' and down they lay as flat as pancakes. But I did 
 more, I made the magnet take up the great cannon of Hunderabad 
 which weighs nine hundred tons, and fires a ball of nine hundred pound's 
 weight — just a pound to a ton you will remark. But moreover " 
 
 " You told them a great many other lies," said Mr. de Lunatico, 
 quietly — " just such as you are telling me at the present moment. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 329 
 
 Don't look fierce at me, sir. I never insult any man without being 
 quite ready to give him satisfaction; but be good enough, if you 
 please, to tell me this moment, what you and my good friend Tom 
 Hamilton, and my honourable friend Mr. Fitzurse have been concocting 
 together." 
 
 " Nay, my good sir — nay, my dear sir — nay, my honourable friend," 
 said Mr. Darius in a state of much trepidation. 
 
 " I insist upon it," said Mr. de Lunatico ; " I should be sorry to 
 have recourse to violent measures, but " 
 
 " Well, well then," said his long companion, " if I am under com- 
 pulsion I must tell. They are going this moment, that is to say, as 
 soon as they have got some breakfast, to get a marriage licence for Mr. 
 Fitzurse to be married to-morrow morning." 
 
 " Indeed !" exclaimed the chevalier, surprised and horrified. " But 
 where is the bride? Are you quite sure that you have got the bride ?" 
 
 " Oh, quite sure of that," replied Mr. Darius laughing ; " I saw her 
 not a minute ago in the little room behind the dining-room." 
 
 " And pray, may I ask, are all the parties willing ?" demanded the 
 chevalier, fancying that it was of Laura Longmore Mr. Darius was 
 talking all the time, for be it remarked that nobody could cheat the 
 great diplomatist but himself. " No compulsion I hope, sir." 
 
 " Oh dear, no — oh dear, no," replied Mr. Darius, " a little fright 
 and all that at one time, but now they are all quite content. By J ove, 
 to see these young people you would think that marriage was the finest 
 thing in the world, nothing but laughing, and talking, and squeezing 
 of hands" 
 
 " Frailty, thy name is woman," said the chevalier after Hamlet. 
 
 "But," Mr. Darius continued, " you must not say a word, my dear 
 chevalier, you know it's a profound secret, and if they knew I had told 
 they would eat me up." 
 
 " A large mouthful, and not a savoury one," said the chevalier ; " and 
 now what was it you wanted to show me ?" 
 
 " Nothing at all," replied the Mede, " but I just wanted you to walk 
 into another room, for the breakfast is in that one there, you see, and 
 there's no way into that room but through this, so " 
 
 " Oh, I will walk into another room directly," answered the che- 
 valier, and taking up his hat he marched straight into the breakfast- 
 room, helped himself to a slice of ham, poured out a cup of coffee, and 
 sat quietly down to the morning meal. 
 
330 THE commissioner; or. 
 
 CHAPTEB LIV. 
 
 LEFT IN THE LURCH THE PEEb's MAGNANIMITY THE MISTAKE CONFIBMBD— 
 
 THE MARCH OF THE FORCES HUNT THE HARE JERRY CAUGHT. 
 
 The second cup of cofFee was finished, the second slice of ham had 
 disappeared, and the Chevalier de Lunatico said to himself, " Upon my 
 life, this doctor is so long I must go and seek him, or, at all events, 
 fulfil my mission. He must be an unskilful medico, this Mr. Long- 
 shanks. There is not a physician in all London who would not have 
 killed his man in half the time." 
 
 Thus saying, he took up his hat, smoothed the crown of it thought- 
 fully with the sleeve of his coat, and was approaching the bell as if for 
 the purpose of ringing it, when he suddenly heard the sounds of 
 
 " Ugh, ugh, ugh! By jingo, that's good — Damme, I'm better. 
 Where's Tom Hamilton ? Is he puling up in his room still ? Where's 
 Freddy — that's to say, my nevy Judas ? Where's Jerry Tripe ? 
 Where are all the people ? By jingo, I think they are * into thin air 
 dissolved.' " 
 
 " Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Fitzurse have gone out, my lord," replied 
 a footman's voice, " after having had a little coffee in the back kitchen. 
 Jerry Tripe is in the pantry, and says he is rather qualmish." 
 
 " And who the deuce have we got here ?" cried the viscount enter- 
 ing the room. "By jingo, it's my old friend, the chevalier. How 
 d'ye do, how d'ye do, chevalier ? you're a gallant old cock as ever I 
 should wish to see. So come sit down and have some breakfast. Help 
 yourself and your friends will love ye." 
 
 " J have taken the liberty of helping myself,'* replied the chevalier ; 
 " but, may I ask, where is Mr. Longshanks ?" 
 
 " Oh, he's been gone this half hour," replied the peer. " He told me 
 there was nothing the matter with me but sin and indigestion, and went 
 away in a huff. By jingo, I believe he was right, for a small glass of 
 neat cogniac cured the indigestion, and as sin is a chronic complaint, 
 it must have its own course." 
 
 " He seems totally to have forgotten that he left me here then,'* 
 said the chevalier. 
 
 " Most likely, most likely," replied the viscount; " but how came 
 you with him ? Are you hunting in couples ? By jingo, if you do that, 
 chevalier, what between you with your pistols, and he with his pill- 
 box, there won't be alive man left in the country. They'll call yoa 
 death and the doctor as you go along. Ha, ha, ha, ha !" 
 
 " I only met Mr. Longshanks by chance," said the chevalier. '< I was 
 coming with a message to your lordship." 
 
DE LUNATICO INauiRENDO. 331 
 
 *< Oh it's to me this time," cried the viscount. " Well, what is it ? 
 The sandy lane ? — Half-past five o'clock in the morning ? Well, by 
 jingo, I'm quite ready ! — Never minded a cool blaze in my life." 
 
 " Your lordship mistakes the nature of my errand," said the che- 
 valier. " I am sent here by the magistrates assembled at the Half 
 Moon, in the village of Outrun, to require that your lordship would 
 immediately restore Miss Laura Longmore to her father, upon your 
 consenting to do which all farther proceedings will be stayed. But if 
 you refuse, a warrant for your apprehension and that of your son, will 
 be immediately issued, and likewise a warrant for searching Outrun 
 Castle. I wait your lordship's reply." 
 
 The viscount had turned even redder than usual in the face, and, to 
 say truth, he looked excessively fierce, but the chevalier, as the reader 
 well knows, was armed, and well prepared for all contingencies. He 
 was as cool as a cucumber ! and saw the angry spot upon the peer's 
 brow with as much equanimity as a Whig talks of the new poor law. 
 
 " By jingo, that's good," cried Lord Outrun. " Damme, the fellows 
 threaten me, do they. Tell them, with my compliments, that I will 
 give them no answer at all except at the lash of the horsewhip. Let 
 them issue their warrant, and if they come here I'll cudgel them all so 
 souudly that * Justice of Peace' shall become another name for marme- 
 lade all through the country." 
 
 " Might it not be better for your lordship," said the chevalier in an 
 equable tone, " to say that Miss Longmore is not here ?" 
 
 " No, by jingo, I won't say any thing of the kind," said his lord- 
 ship. " Tell them they're a pack of nincompoops, and deserve the 
 drubbing they shall certainly get if they come here." 
 
 " I have the honour of taking my leave," said the chevalier, making 
 a low bow. 
 
 The peer stuck his hands under his coat tails, and bowed with a stiff 
 back as far as his stomach would let him. The chevalier then retreated 
 from the room, mounted his horse, and rode out through the park. 
 
 " She's there," said the chevalier to himself, after two or three mi- 
 nutes' consideration. " How could the surgeon make such a mistake ? 
 She must be there I think. However, I'll ' make assurance double sure,' 
 'tis but a mile or two round," and on the chevalier rode till he came up 
 to the gate of a certain house, which, if the reader had seen it, he would 
 instantly have recognised as the dwelling-place of Mr. Longshanks. 
 
 There was a boy standing at the gate, performing the curious 
 operation which is called lolloping. There was a fine simplicity in 
 the expression of his countenance bordering upon the unideal, and 
 the chevalier conceiving him to be a fit vehicle for diplomatic communi- 
 cation, he entered into conversation with him without passing the gate. 
 
 " Pray, my man," he said, " can you do me the honour of telling me 
 if a young lady named Miss Longmore is staying in this house ?" 
 
 " I doan't know," replied the boy, " but I'll ax John," and, without 
 more ado, he walked off" to the back door of Mr. Longshanks' dwell- 
 ing, and hollowed out as loud as he could bawl, " John, here be a man 
 a hossback, axing for Miss Longmore." 
 
332 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 " Tell him she's not here," shouted a voice from within, and the youth 
 returning to the gate answered the chevalier's question by saying, 
 " she bean't here, she bean't here " 
 
 Now, had he stopped there, he would have done perfectly right ; but 
 how few men are there in this world, or women either, who know where 
 to stop, and the bumpkin with an exercise of the inductive faculties, 
 which no one had a right to expect from him, added to the information 
 he conveyed the words, " She be gone back again I fancy." 
 
 This was something more than hypothesis, it almost approached the 
 dignity of a theory, for the youth had seen Miss Longmore the day 
 preceding in that identical garden, and knew her to be Miss Longmore. 
 He was now told that she was not there by good and competent autho- 
 rity. What conclusion could he arrive at but that she was gone ? and, 
 therefore, the only unsupported part of the whole assertion was con- 
 veyed in the words, "back again." 
 
 The chevalier instantly turned round his horse, and cantered away 
 over the moor till he reached the village of Outrun, where he soon 
 stood in the midst of his admiring friends. 
 
 " I insist upon the warrant being issued immediately," said Mr. 
 Longmore, as soon as he had heard Mr. de Lunatico's statement. 
 " Gentlemen, there must be no more delay. My child is a part of 
 myself, the corpuscles of which she is composed are the same as those 
 of which I am formed, and though she is detached from me physically, 
 she is naturally as much mine as my arm, or my leg, or my foot, till I 
 give her away to somebody else. I, therefore, claim my property 
 unjustly withheld from me." 
 
 " Well, well, my dear sir, well, well," said Alderman Rotundity, 
 " do not agitate yourself, the warrant shall be issued immediately, and 
 we will go in a body to put it in execution till we can say too, * fair 
 Laura, eripe turpi colla jugo.^ " 
 
 " Hang the man's Latin," said Mr. Pudden stream ; " where's the 
 clerk ? Let's set about the business at once — ^it will be a famous thing 
 to have a peer in the lock-up ; but if we don't mind how we conduct 
 this here business, we shall get into a mess. They're a devilish cun- 
 ning set at Outrun Castle, and if they hear of our coming, will be off 
 before we come." 
 
 " Let us be as quick as possible," said another magistrate, " and let 
 no one whisper in the village what we are going to do." 
 
 " Do you hear, every body ?" cried Mr. Rotundity — " quid de quoque 
 virOf et cui dicas, sc^e cavetoV 
 
 " I'll get some stout fellows to go with us," said Harry Worrel. 
 " Lord Outrun is more likely to fight than run." 
 
 " You are right there, my young friend," replied the chevalier; 
 " the old gentleman showed not the slightest intention of employing the 
 better part of his valour. The only person who is likely to run is a 
 ' certain friend of mine called Jeremiah Tripe." 
 
 " Oh, the old scoundrel, I know him," cried every magistrate pre- 
 sent — " one of the greatest rogues in Europe." 
 
 " Precisely," said the chevalier ; " and as 1 have a little affair to 
 
DE XUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 333 
 
 settle with him myself, I will beg leave to charge him before you, gen- 
 tlemen, with the respectable and chivalrous crime of highway robbery. 
 I am ready to swear to the charge, and beg you will issue your warrant 
 accordingly." 
 
 The magistrates stared, but after having done so sufficiently, they 
 each and all recollected that sundry persons had been stopped and 
 robbed in the very sandy lane that ran under the wall of Outrun Park. 
 The charge was then formally taken, the warrant issued, the constables 
 collected, a few specials sworn in under apprehensions of a riot, and 
 the whole party, headed by the parish beadle, set off for Outrim Castle. 
 A number of little boys and girls followed to complete the procession, 
 and several of them brought the edge of their thumbnail to the tip of their 
 nose, and stretched out the little finger in rather an unseemly manner. 
 
 " The best way is over the stile," cried Harry Worrel ; " we shall get 
 there in half the time." 
 
 " No, no, let us go round by the regular gates," cried Mr. Pudden- 
 stream, " it's more dignified.'* 
 
 " Nonsense," cried another ; " speed is what we want, not dignity." 
 
 " It's as far one way as another," said a fat old gentleman. 
 
 " Castor sciatf an Docilis pluSy Brundusium Numici meliits via ducat, 
 an Appi" said Mr. Rotundity. 
 
 " But who is to take the horses over ?" said one more honest than 
 the rest, touching at once upon what had been the sticking point with 
 them all. " Mr. Deputy Popeseye here isn't fond of flying leaps I should 
 think." 
 
 " Heaven forbid," said Mr. Deputy Popeseye, patting his fat stomach, 
 " I should have the boys taking me for a balloon." 
 
 " I'll leap the horses, I'll leap the horses," said Harry Worrel ; " the 
 wall is a mere nothing to the right of the stile, and part of it broken 
 down." 
 
 Some of the gentlemen, however, were accustomed to the hunting 
 field, and when the infantry crossed the stile, two or three, amongst 
 whom was Mr. Alderman Rotundity, leaped the park wall in great 
 style, though it must be acknowledged that the alderman's hat fell off, 
 and his chest emitted a grunt like that of an Irish paviour ramming 
 home a mass of granite. Worrel took over the other horses — some at a 
 standing, and some at a flying leap ; and the chevalier excited the ad- 
 miration of all by the graceful and high-flying manner in which he car- 
 ried his horseflesh over the fence. The moment he had effected this 
 feat, however, Mr. de Lunatico rode up to the side of Mr. Longmore, 
 drew him a little apart from the rest of the company, and conversed 
 with him for several minutes in a low but earnest tone. After some 
 minutes' conference they called up Harry Worrel, but the very first 
 words that were spoken to him had much the same effect as a spark 
 into a pound of gunpowder. To use the expression of the antique gen- 
 tlemen who wrote about a hundred years ago, the animal spirits flew in 
 an instant from the heart to the surface, making him dig his spurs deep 
 into his horse's side, which jumped some six feet high incontinent, and 
 at the same time he exclaimed in a tone that carried his words 
 
334 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 half over the park, " It's a lie !— It's a lie, chevalier," he added more 
 calmly after a moment's consideration, " and if you'll show me this tall 
 man you talk of, I'll break every one of his long bones for saying it." 
 
 Just at that instant one of the constables exclaimed, " There he goes ! 
 there he goes !" 
 
 " Who, who, who ?" cried a dozen voices at once. 
 
 « Jerry Tripe," cried the constable running. 
 
 « Jerry Tripe," shouted a magistrate, trotting. 
 
 " Jerry Tripe," exclaimed Harry Worrel galloping. 
 
 " Tally ho," cried a squire waving his hat in the air; and off they all 
 set like madmen, scouring over the park with as much speed as they 
 severally could command. 
 
 It was a great and glorious sight to see. Jerry Tripe had a start 
 of three hundred and fifty yards at least, the castle was at half a mile 
 distant, the ground was broken, full of trees stunted hawthorns and 
 little pools of water ; there was a carriage road cut through a deep 
 scarcely seen ravine between him and his pursuers ; beyond that was a 
 brook somewhat profound but not very broad, and about fifty yards 
 from the house was a ha-ha, with a bridge and an iron gate ,upon it. 
 Jerry knew every inch of the ground, every stock or stump, and path, 
 and turn and bend ; and after a moment's consideration of his belly and 
 his legs, he determined he would give his pursuers a good run at all 
 events, and off he set at the top of his speed. On rushed the hunt after 
 him, the men on foot spreading out to intercept him whichever way he 
 turned, the men on horseback pushing straight at the ravine, and Jerry 
 taking every advantage of the ground, twisting, turning, and putting 
 all sorts of obstacles between himself and the pursuers. Up like light- 
 ning they came to the top of the bank above the road, but here sad was 
 the disarray that ensued. Deputy Popeseye's horse, seeing farther than 
 his master, suddenly halted in full gallop, and started back, upon which 
 the deputy, to show his indignation of such cowardice, flew over the 
 animal's head, like a shell out of a mortar, fell with a squelch in his 
 stomach on the road, and rolled about for several minutes like an over- 
 thrown ninepin. Mr. Rotundity, warned in time, rode round half a 
 mile, the chevalier guided his horse slantingly down the bank, a num- 
 ber of squires and justices paused and looked over, the constables scram- 
 bled down and scrambled up, and Harry Worrel leaped his horse 
 down, and then forced him up the other side, nearly brea}iing his neck 
 in so doing. By this time, however, Jerry had recovered all that they 
 had gained upon him from the first start, and still he was running on. 
 Harry and he reached the bridge almost at the same moment, but Jerry 
 banged the little iron gate in his pursuer's face, and, thinking himself 
 safe, lolled his tongue out of his mouth. The horse, however, almost 
 as eager as his rider, cleared the gate at a standing leap, and the next 
 instant Jerry's collar was grasped tight in Harry Worrel's powerful 
 hand. 
 
 " Ah, this serves me right," said Jerry Tripe, " for you are the only 
 man I ever really injured. Master Harry, but if you'll befriend me PU 
 make up for all." 
 
i 
 
9 
 
DE LUNATICO rNQU^lE^^)0. 335 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 THE FORTBESa SUMMONED A PABLET A NEW WAY OF TEACHING MAGISTRATES 
 
 TO CONSIDEB A QUESTION COOLLY HABB CONDITIONS THE SUBPBISE. 
 
 No sooner was Jerry Tripe caught than the constables were upon him ; 
 one seized him and another seized him, and to see the strength with 
 which they held him, one would have supposed that he was some new- 
 caught Sampson, and they a swarm of pigmy Philistines. Jerry made 
 no resistance in the least, however, but as the chevalier cantered up, 
 the prisoner gave him a rueful look, saying, " I know who to thank for 
 this." 
 
 " You have nobody to thank but yourself," replied the chevalier, and 
 bending down his head, he added, " you know the conditions, it's not 
 too late even now." 
 
 " I'll think about it," said Jerry Tripe, in the same low tone, " but 
 you must come and speak with me." 
 
 " I will, I will," replied the chevalier, and the rest of the party 
 riding up, this interesting conversation, of course, dropped. 
 
 " Now, my dear yoimg friend," said Mr. de Lunatico turning to 
 Harry Worrel, " I have particular reasons for wishing you to remain 
 and keep guard with a constable over this worthy individual." 
 
 " Not I," cried Harry Worrel, " I am into the castle ; till Laura is 
 found I devote myself to one object alone.'* 
 
 " Harry Worrel, Harry Worrel," cried Mr. Longmore, over whose 
 mind Mr. de Lunatico had established the most complete influence, " if 
 you don't do as the chevalier tells you, you shall not have her at all. 
 Mark my words, Harry, you know I'm a determined old gentleman, 
 and, as Sir Walter Scott's Bohemian says, * By the great Aldiboran I 
 will keep my word.' " 
 
 Harry Worrel looked as one might suppose an eel going to be 
 skinned would look if he knew what it was about, but still he dared not 
 disobey, for till the ring was upon Laura's finger, he felt he should be 
 standing upon very uncertain ground. 
 
 This matter being settled, the whole party marched forward in battle 
 array along the terrace to the great door of Outrun Castle, having the 
 cavalry in the centre, and the infantry in the wings. When they 
 reached the doorway one of the constables advanced and rang the bell. 
 Three footmen and a valet immediately presented themselves, and the 
 storming party prepared for battle, when, to the surprise of all, the 
 valet said in a mellifluous voice, " Pray, walk, in, gentlemen, my lord 
 expects you ; he is very unwell, and has been obliged to retire to his 
 room since breakfast, but he will receive you in his own apartment." 
 
 ** Oh, very well, very well," said Mr. Puddenstream, willing to put 
 himself forward on all occasions, " which is the way, which is the 
 way ?" and dismounting from his horse he took the lead of the party, 
 
336 THE COMMISSrONKR ; OR> 
 
 and was followed by Mr. Longmore and the rest of the magistrates, 
 the constables remaining without. 
 
 Mr. Deputy Popeseye came next, not belonging to the county, and 
 he was succeeded by the Chevalier de I.unatico who was present as a 
 mere spectator. 
 
 " This way, gentlemen, this way," said the valet of Mr. Fitzurse, 
 who, in the absence of Jerry Tripe, did the honours of the house, 
 " please to follow me," and, with a jaunty step, he led the way through 
 the great hall to the grand staircase. 
 
 Mr. de Lunatico remarked, as something rather curious, that the foot- 
 men who had been marshalled in the hall followed the rest of the party 
 and brought up the rear. He asked himself what was the meaning 
 thereof. Did the viscount really and truly propose to thrash the ma- 
 gistrates as he had threatened ? But when he counted eight men besides 
 himself, he judged that three footmen, a valet, and a noble lord would 
 not be sufficient for the operation. He prepared himself, however, for 
 all events, grasped his riding cane tightly by the middle, and kept a 
 sharp eye upon every thing that took place. 
 
 Up the grand staircase, then, they mounted, three and three abreast, 
 and along the corridor in the same order. Had any of those present 
 been well acquainted with the locality, they would have perceived at 
 once that they were not proceeding towards the viscount's ordinary 
 bedchamber, for instead of stopping at the first floor, they ascended 
 to the second, and it certainly did strike some of tliem as rather 
 odd that the noble lord should domicile himself on an upper story, 
 where neither the furniture nor decorations were at all equal to 
 those below. Still, however, the valet walked forward along a wide 
 corridor which led between two ranges of chambers towards a large 
 pair of doors at the end, which he threw wide open. Immediately 
 this was done, they perceived before them a small ante-room some 
 twelve feet long by ten feet broad, beyond which was another pair 
 of folding doors, likewise open, exhibiting the interior of another 
 chamber, in which was beheld, exactly facing them. Viscount Outrun, 
 Baron Fitzurse seated in a large armchair with his red night cap 
 on his head. On either side of him stood his coachman and under 
 coachman in state liveries. The peer himself seemed to the chevalier 
 to be holding the end of a rope in his hand, and the same was the case 
 with each of his attendant satellites. 
 
 " Now the parties are pretty equal," said the chevalier to himself, 
 " and the tug of war seems approaching." 
 
 On tripped the valet through the anteroom with a somewhat accele- 
 rated step, saying, " The magistrates, my lord." On followed the wor- 
 shipful gentlemen, three abreast, with the same stately step as before. 
 The chevalier hung a little behind, not that he was frightened, dear 
 reader, but that he was a prudent man anxious to see what would come 
 next. He did see in a moment, for as soon as Mr. Puddenstream, Mr. 
 Rotundity, and Mr. Longmore were two-thirds of the way across the 
 anteroom, three other magistrates half way across it, Mr. Deputy 
 Popeseye and another magistrate just within the doors, and the cheva- 
 
i 
 
 i 
 
 ■«?=-• 
 
 lUif 
 
 i 
 

DE LUNATICO INQUIKENDO. 337 
 
 lier's own foot hanging over the threshold, up started the peer crying, 
 " Haul away," and pulling at the rope in his hand with all his might. 
 
 Each of the coachmen did the same, there was the sound of bolts with- 
 drawn, and in an instant the flooring, separating in the centre, fell 
 down like two flaps of a table, precipitating the whole bench into a 
 deep tank filled to the brim with water. Some fell upon their faces, 
 some upon their backs, but all scrambled up on end in a minute, and 
 there they stood, the tall ones up to their shoulders, the short ones up 
 to their necks. The stiff" pigtail of Mr. Longmore, softened by the 
 liquid, rested languidly upon the surface, the wig of Mr. Puddenstream 
 floated here and there, whirled round in the eddies caused by the im- 
 mersion, and the rush of the waters with the panting of the eight hap- 
 less magistrates, and the laughter of the footmen and coachmen, raised 
 such a hubbub that the chevalier could only hear the peer shouting, 
 while he held his stomach with both his hands to prevent it from 
 bursting with laughter. " There they are, by jingo, there they are ! 
 Did you ever see such fat fish in your life ? It's enough to make a 
 man live a hundred years to see them." 
 
 At the same moment, however, the chevalier whose caution had 
 proved his safeguard, perceived one of the footmen approaching him 
 with what he conceived to be an intention of treating him to the same 
 sort of bath, and consequently he set his back against the wall, raised 
 his riding cane, and said, " Keep off or I knock you down." 
 
 The footman did keep back, and the same moment the viscount's 
 voice was heard exclaiming, " Silence ! Every one, be quiet. Now 
 you shall see St. Anthony preaching to the fishes." 
 
 Thus saying, he advanced to the side of the tank, took off his red 
 velvet night-cap, and bowed three times to the magistrates in the water 
 below. 
 
 " My dearly beloved friends," he said, " hearing that you were 
 coming upon an expedition which required coolness and discrimination, 
 I have prepared for you a reception which will chill all the fiery and 
 hasty particles of your blood, and restore you to that state of cold in- 
 difference which is becoming the judges and magistrates of a great 
 nation ." 
 
 " D n take me out of this place," cried Mr. Puddenstream. 
 
 " You shall repent of this, you shall repent of this," cried Mr. Longmore. 
 
 ^^ ^ Apparent rari nantesin gurgite va^^o,'"said Mr. Rotundity, look- 
 ing round upon his companions. 
 
 " You blackguard ! you villain ! you impudent scoundrel !" cried 
 several of the country magistrates. 
 
 " Be cool, be cool," replied the viscount ; " you will all be cool in a 
 little, and then you shall come out, but not before. The love of cold 
 bathing, my friends, is inherent in the nature of man. It is only in 
 consequence of the corrupt habit of wearing coats, waistcoats, and 
 breeches, that we do not enjoy the water almost as much as we do the 
 land. I am sure you will feel and appreciate the treat I have prepared 
 for you, and remember the fire-tank of Outrun Castle till the last day of 
 your lives. Do not let me in any degree put force upon your inclina- 
 
 C. — NO. XI. " z 
 
338 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 tions, remain in as long as ever you please, and when you want to re- 
 tire from your present situation, when you have enjoyed the delights of 
 the bath sufficiently, you have nothing to do but to pronounce the fol- 
 lowing words : — " I solemnly promise Viscount Outrun, upon my honour, 
 to walk straight out of his house the moment I am lifted out of this 
 place, and not to come into it again till he asks me." 
 
 The unfortunate magistrates looked in each other's faces, and Mr. 
 Puddenstream exclaimed, " 'Pon my soul, this is too bad." 
 
 " My lord," said Mr. Longmore, " the hydrotastical process which 
 you have had recourse to for the purpose of trying our resolution, will, 
 I fear, prove too much for justice. Although not soluble in water, the 
 body of man cannot bear immersion beyond a certain length of time, 
 and as it is impossible for us, without the aid of instruments, to lift our- 
 selves out of this tank or reservoir, I must request that you will direct 
 your servants to assist me to some dryer place." 
 
 " The words, the words, the cabalistic words, most philosophical 
 Longmore," cried the viscount. " By jingo, not one of you shall come 
 out till you have pronounced those words, if you should all melt away 
 together like lumps of sugar in a bowl of punch." 
 
 " Hang it, I'll say the wOrds," cried Mr. Deputy Popeseye, " my 
 stomach hasn't been so cold this forty years. Here ^oes then — 'I 
 solemnly promise Viscount Outrun, upon my honour, to walk straight 
 out of his house the moment I am lifted out of this place, and not to 
 come into it again till he asks me.' " 
 
 Once the example was given it spread like lightning. 
 
 " I solemnly promise " said Mr. Rotundity. 
 
 " I solemnly promise " shouted Mr. Puddenstream. 
 
 " I solemnly promise " said Mr. Longmore. 
 
 One magistrate after another took up the tale, and went on solemnly 
 promising in chorus as if they had been saying their prayers. 
 
 " Stop, stop, stop," cried the viscount, " one at a time, one at a time, 
 we do every thing coolly in this house. Hand out that stout gentle- 
 man, John. Fat meat soonest cools the cook tells me," and two of the 
 footmen advancing to the edge of the tank, stooped down benignly, and 
 strove with might and main to lift the ponderous deputy out of his un- 
 pleasant resting-place. Just when they had got him to the brink, how- 
 ever, whether from malice or want of strength cannot be told, but back 
 they let him fall into the water, and it was not till Mr. Puddenstream 
 perceiving that his own escape must be delayed till that of the deputy 
 was accomplished, put his shoulder under the fat nether man of the 
 civic functionary, that the two stout footmen could sway him up to what 
 might well be called the landing-place. Every one was now eager for 
 the next turn, all dignity was forgotten, and piteous appeals were made 
 every moment to the charity of the viscount. One vowed he had got the 
 cramp, another said that he should die of the rheumatism, a third declared 
 it would drive the gout to his stomach, but the viscount was inexorable. 
 " March off, fat man," he cried, " you'll be all the better for an air- 
 ing in the sunshine ; when you are gone, your fellows shall follow 
 you," and then, one by one, he caused the others to be lifted out and 
 
D£ LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 339 
 
 conducted down stairs by a footman, who never left them till they 
 had passed the great doors. 
 
 Perhaps the worst of their misery, however, was to come, for there 
 is no misery like ridicule, and so absurd was their appearance, as one 
 after another they trooped out with their faces white, and their hair 
 and garments dripping, that the boys tittered aloud, the constables 
 grinned from ear to ear, and when, at length, Mr. Puddenstream ap- 
 peared carrying his well-powdered, but now dropping wig in his hand, 
 a loud and general shout of laughter burst forth and welcomed the ad- 
 venturers back again, while at every window of Outrun Castle appeared 
 a head joining in the universal cachinnation. 
 
 " Well, Popeseye," said Mr. Rotundity, " I think you have had water 
 enough for once." 
 
 " 1 can recollect once drinking it before," said Mr. Deputy Popeseye, 
 ** and ril never take another glass as long as I live, it's very nasty stuff* 
 indeed.'* 
 
 " It's too bad, it's infamous," said Mr. Longmore. " Oh, if my grand 
 self-acting-perpetuo-motival-electro-magnetic machine had not been 
 burnt, I would knock the house down about^liis ears in five minutes." 
 
 " I'll — I'll — I'll punish him," said Mr. Puddenstream, taking his wig 
 by the tail and shaking it vengefuHy towards Outrun Castle. 
 
 " What's the matter, what's the matter?" cried Harry Worrel, 
 leaving Jerry Tripe in the hands of the constable, and rushing up. 
 " Have you discovered her ?— Is she not there ? What have you 
 found?" 
 
 " Very nearly what the newspapers call a * watery grave,' " replied 
 Mr. Deputy Poyeseye. " Get along, get along, the sooner we are back 
 to the Half Moon the better." 
 
 " But, where is Laura?" demanded Worrel, eagerly looking roimd 
 upon the dripping magistrates. 
 
 " How the devil should we know ?" said Mr. Puddenstream ; " that 
 there peer has ducked us, that's all, and we are going back as wise as 
 we came." 
 
 " But I will not go back," said Harry Worrel, " I will force my way 
 into the house with the constables and find her." 
 
 " Nonsense, nonsense, Harry," said Mr. Longmore ; " they are too 
 much for you, Harry." 
 
 " I shall catch my death of cold," said Mr. Deputy Popeseye. 
 
 " I have caught mine already," said Alderman Rotundity. 
 
 " Let us go back to the village, and swear in the whole people as 
 special constables," said Mr. Puddenstream. " It's all owing to your 
 not comjnitting that fellow, Joey Pike, last night. People love reve- 
 rence for the laws." 
 
 " I vote for sending for the yeomanry," said another magistrate. 
 
 " A capital thought," cried another. 
 
 " But are you going to leave the place in this way," exclaimed Harr 
 Worrel, " baffled, insulted, and ?" 
 
 " Ducked," said Mr. Popeseye. " My dear young friend, there's no 
 resource ; there's not a man amongst us who would not sell his father, 
 
340 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 much more his daughter, for a glass of milk punch and a dry flannel 
 waistcoat." 
 
 " Listen to me, Worrel," said the chevalier. " You can do nothing at 
 present. The indignation of these gentlemen is cooled, but not extin- 
 guished. As soon as they get dry, it will get warm again, a good 
 dinner at the Half Moon will set it in a blaze. There must be, surely, 
 some power in the country to vindicate the law, and as soon as you can 
 collect force enough you can return to attack the castle, armed against 
 resistance, and on your guard against all stratagems." 
 
 " Sir, you are an oracle," said Mr. Deputy Popeseye. " I wish some 
 body would help me on my horse." 
 
 " What are we to do with this un that we have caught ?" 
 
 " Take him to the black hole at Market Greenford," said Mr. Pud- 
 denstream. 
 
 " Is a committed ?" asked the constable. 
 
 " There, don't bother," said Mr. Rotundity, who seemed soaked out 
 of all his latinity. " Remanded for farther examination." 
 
 " That's it, that's it," cried all the magistrates. " Let us be off." 
 
 " Come, Harry, it is of%o use now," said Mr. Longmore. "We'll 
 think of how to get poor Laura out when we get to the inn." 
 
 " Would any of you, gentlemen, like a glass of cold water ?" shouted 
 one of the footmen from the window, and, sheepishly, but full of 
 thoughts of high revenge, the whole party of magistrates mounted their 
 horses and rode away followed by the constables with their prisoner. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIREIfDO 341 
 
 IIAPTER LVI. 
 
 MADEMOISELLE BROCKET IN PRISON THE WAY INNOCENT PEOPLE MAT BE 
 
 TREATED IN ENGLAND JOEY's DESPAIR TRIPE TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 Shorn of his beams, like the sun in a London fog, stripped of his 
 glory, like Napoleon in St. Helena — where Sir Hudson Lowe called 
 him " General" instead of Emperor, and where, if he had made any 
 change in his title at all, it would have been just as well to call him 
 plain Mister Buonaparte, being fully as much justified in doing the one 
 as the other by the important right and title of having no one to con- 
 tradict him — unsexed, unbonnetted, uncurled, Mademoiselle Brochet sat 
 in what was significantly called " The Black Hole" of the small town 
 of Market Greenford. 
 
 Certain it is, dearly beloved reader, that the magistrates when they 
 remanded him had not the slightest idea of the sort of punishment to 
 which poor Joey Pike was about to be subjected. Certain it is, that 
 when Mr. Longmore recommended the constable to deal kindly with 
 poor Joey, he little thought how his recommendation would be followed. 
 
 The black hole was a black hole indeed, nearly as black as the heart 
 which first invented such a place for shutting up our fellow-creatures 
 in ; and black indeed must that heart be, which can devise additional 
 pangs to add to those which must fall upon a human being when, first 
 charged with crime — a horrible infliction in itself — he is deprived of that 
 blessed liberty, which is the great zest of life. But oh how dark and 
 horrible must be the bosom of that man, who before he knows whether 
 a fellow-creature be guilty or not, would do one tittle more than ensure 
 against his escape, who would treat him with indignity, or mark him with 
 the badge of crime. But to return to the black hole : — It was a small 
 confined room with a stone floor, under the Town-hall — for Market 
 Greenford boasted of one of those places in which almost universally 
 more nonsense is spoken and more iniquity committed than in any other 
 hall in the kingdom, except, perhaps, the House of Commons. To get at 
 the black hole you descended some three or four steps at the back of the 
 aforesaid Town-hall, for, dear reader, you must know that it was sunk 
 at least six feet below the ground, so that the prisoners were kindly 
 permitted the advantage of any damp that was going, and in rainy 
 weather that was not a little. To prepare the minds of those who 
 were destined to tenant it for what was to ensue, the entrance was 
 placed in a narrow, dark, back street, where ladies of not the most 
 prudent character principally made their abode, and when the door 
 was opened, the first thing that presented itself was a blank black 
 void, into which the light penetrated unwillingly, and seemed very 
 much surprised to find itself there. When the prisoner was once in, 
 
342 THE COxMJVIISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 however, and the door shut, for a moment all appeared darkness, but 
 gradually he began to see a grey-looking spot upon the wall, perfectly 
 round in form, and technically termed a " bull's eye." 
 
 Now, why a poor bull, who has a great deal of fire and expression in 
 his eye, especially when he is in a passion, should be libelled by having 
 every thing round and unmeaning compared to his organ of vision, one 
 cannot well divine, but so it is ; and lest the reader in this instance should 
 not exactly know what we mean by the term, let us explain that it is a 
 thick, grey, half sphere of ground glass which gave the only light to 
 the place where poor Joey Pike was confined. 
 
 Alack- and-a-well-a-day, what was his misery when he first entered 
 into this abominable hole. It was night, as the reader well knows, and 
 the constable accompanied him in with a lantern in his hand. Joey 
 looked round him in dismay. The furniture was not very abundant, 
 there was an iron bedstead fixed to the wall — a quantity of straw piled 
 upon it, apparently not very clean — a woollen rug, not so good as a 
 piece of old Kidderminster carpet, cast over the foot of the bedstead. 
 The catalogue is done, reader ; that was all. There once, indeed, had 
 been some wooden chairs, but a worthy magistrate, a fit follower of the 
 philanthropic Howard, had caused them to be removed for fear the 
 prisoners should break each other's heads with them. The bedstead 
 they could not use for such a purpose, for it was stanchioned down, and 
 so he let that remain. Joey Pike seized the constable's hand, and 
 pressed it tenderly, " you will not have the crudelta'^ he said, " to leave 
 me here alone. Surely, surely, you will never have the barbarity " 
 
 " Stuff* and nonsense," cried the constable, " I can't stay with thee 
 all night, lad. There are no ghosts in this place." 
 
 " Ah," cried Joey, " ghosts have undone me, but leave me not in 
 darkness. Donnez rnoi une chandelle !" 
 
 " I can't give you a shandle as you call it, you fool," replied the 
 tender-hearted officer. " It's against the rules, Joey. There, go to bed 
 and go to sleep. To-morrow you'll be had up for examination again. 
 It's only a matter of twelve hours, so don't be a fool," and away he 
 went, leaving our unhappy friend Joey Pike in utter darkness and pro- 
 found despair. 
 
 His feelings instantly overcame him, injured, ill-treated, frustrated 
 of his noblest designs, all his grand views and splendid conceptions 
 blown to the winds, and he himself left desolate on the floor of the 
 black hole, Joey instantly conceived himself" The Martyr of Antioch,'* 
 or some other such personage, and overpowered with the horrors of his 
 situation he sat down and fell into a violent fit of hysterics. He wept, 
 he laughed, he sobbed, he gulped, he snapped his fingers, he shouted, 
 *' Ah che sorti/i' but, in the end, exhausted nature sought the arms of 
 sleep, and day had dawned ere Joey woke again. 
 
 For nearly five minutes after his eyes unclosed Joey remembered 
 not where he was, and he was utterly confounded and surprised to see 
 the great bull's eye staring at him from the wall. At first he took it 
 for the moon in a foggy night, and from his sensations fancied that he 
 had gone asleep under a hedge. Next he took it for a globe lamp just 
 
DE yUNATICO iNQUlRENDO. 343 
 
 going out, and thought that he must have been waiting at some dinner 
 party, drank too much wine, and taken a nap on the floor of the dining- 
 room. The feel of the rug convinced him that he was upon a carpet, 
 but he could not tell what to make of the straw. Gradually, however, 
 sad remembrance came back, and about half an hour after the constable 
 did so too, bringing with him an earthen pot swinging by a string tied 
 roimd the top and an iron spoon. 
 
 " They toald me to be kind to thee, Joey," said the constable ; " so 
 I've brought thee some gruel, mun." 
 
 " If they had not told him he would have brought nothing," thought 
 Joey, " and I should have been left to starve in this dungeon le Bar- 
 bare ! I will take a higher tone with the monster Mr. Constable," 
 
 he continued, " I do not approve of your conduct, it is too bad — 
 E tropo forte. I must beg to have coffee, I am not accustomed to eat 
 water-gruel except when I am enrhoomy, I insist upon having coffee, 
 sir ; I will not eat water-gruel. 
 
 " You may eatun or lettun alone," replied the constable, with perfect 
 nonchalance. 
 
 " I insist too upon having paper, pens, and ink," continued Joey ; " I 
 want to make notes of my defence. I intend to apply for a habeas 
 corpusP 
 
 " Have his corpus /" cried the constable ; " I suppose you mean old 
 Scapulary's- Well, that is a go ! But you can't have it, young man, if 
 you apply ever so much, for he's been buried this week, and is as 
 rotten as a medlar by this time. Dang it, but I'll tell the magistrates 
 that. Arter having strangled the old man he wants to have his corpus, 
 on my life. That's what you call killing your own mutton, Joey, I 
 suppose : be it not ?" 
 
 " Quel mensongei* cried Joey Pike. " Will you give me the paper 
 and the pens ?" 
 
 " Noa, to be sure," replied the constable. " If thou hadst 'em what 
 couldst thou do with 'em ?" 
 
 " Write ! screiben ! ^crire ! scrivere ! escribir ! Write, I say, 
 write !" shouted Joey Pike. 
 
 *' What ! in the dark, Measter Joey ? Well, you are a crackbrain ! 
 There, eat your gruel, and doan't make a fool of yourself," and thus 
 saying, he turned away and once more left Joey Pike to his solitary 
 meditations. 
 
 Sad and solemn were his thoughts, dark and gloomy his antici- 
 pations. In the course of his contemplations he exhausted almost 
 every known language to find fresh words to bemoan his fate, but time 
 flew by without bringing relief, and an unpleasant clock situated in 
 front of the Town-hall, not only told him each hour that passed, but 
 every quarter also, which was a sad strain upon poor Joey's nerves. 
 After disdaining the gruel till eleven o'clock had struck, he determined 
 to be magnanimous and eat it, and when he had done he wished he had 
 had some more. At all events, it was an occupation of his time, and 
 that was something ; but it was in vain he wished, no more gruel came, 
 and two o'clock had struck before the slightest variation took place in 
 
344 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 the dull blank of his existence. Then, nowever, a loud shout was 
 heard, the voices of numerous urchins under ten years old, whose little 
 spirits seemed to be in a great state of excitement. The shout assumed 
 the peculiar tone of what is called a hoot, and Joey starting from the 
 bed on which he sat, cast himself into an intensely tragic attitude, 
 bending forward his head and stretching forth his two hands towards 
 the door with a look of keen horror and apprehension. 
 
 " They come," he cried, " they come. They are preparmg to lead 
 me to judgment or to death — oh infeleechy !" and smiting his right 
 hand hard upon his breast, he suddenly whirled it back again towards 
 the sky with the first and second finger extended upwards, in which 
 direction his eyes were also turned. It is a great pity, indeed that 
 there was no eye to look upon him but the bull's eye. The moment 
 after the door opened, the light rushed in, and Joey beheld a multitude 
 of faces crowded around the steps, while between two constables, look- 
 ing somewhat rueful, but yet with a comic grin upon his countenance, 
 appeared Jeremiah Tripe, the renowned butler of Viscount Outrun. 
 
 " Oh ciel 1" cried Joey, " e il Signor Tripo !" 
 
 " I say, Tom," said Jerry, speaking to one of the constables, " come 
 in, there's a good fellow. Shut the door and keep the boys out. Get 
 us a pint of gin and a little hot water, will ye ? There's half-a-crown 
 for ye, keep the bob for yourself." 
 
 It instantly became evident to Joey Pike, that his companion in 
 adversity, being an older bird than himself, and probably having been 
 caught before, understood trap better than he did. 
 
 " That I will, Measter Tripe," replied the constable. " Any thing to 
 make you comfortable." 
 
 " Get me the same," cried Joey, rushing forward and presenting his 
 half-crown. Mr. Tripe, we'll hob-nob. Nous trenqueronsV 
 
 " Ah, Joey, my lad, is that you ?" said the respectable butler. 
 *' Well, it's pleasant to be in good company. We'll keep ourselves 
 merry, Joey. What brought you here ?" 
 
 " A constable and a false accusation," replied Joey Pike. " May 
 I put the same question to you, Mr. Tripe ?" 
 
 " Two constables and a true one," replied Jerry, with his usual 
 frankness. " It's a long time since you and I met, Joey." 
 
 " Not so long as you think," answered Joey Pike. " In me you 
 behold Mademoiselle Brochet !" 
 
 And Joey cast himself into an attitude of tender confusion. 
 
 " The devil I do !" exclaimed the butler. " Well, upon my life, I 
 never thought you were a lad of such spirit. You did me, Joey, you 
 did me, and a man must be up early in the morning to do me !" 
 
 " I should think he must," answered Joey Pike ; " but I was up early 
 in the morning, Mr. Tripe, for I never went to bed all night." 
 
 " Hey? What? How?" said Jerry; " I scarcely think I'm up to 
 you yet." 
 
 " No, you are not," replied Joey ; " but perhaps, Mr. Tripe, we may 
 mutually do each other a little good. Do you recollect a certain letter 
 that YOU wrote to the widow of old Scapulary ?" 
 
3>E LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 345 
 
 ,, Ay, to be sure I do," answered Jerry Tripe, his voice falling; 
 « the ghost got that." 
 
 " Pardonnez mot,'' replied Joey, " I got it, for I accompanied the 
 ghost." 
 
 " The deuce you did !" exclaimed the butler. " Come, give it me 
 back again, there's a good boy. It can be nothing to you, and my lord 
 would be very angry if he knew " 
 
 " That I am aware of the truth ?" said Joey. " But I say that it is 
 every thing to me, Mr. Tripe, and even if I wished it I could not give 
 the letter back, it is in the hands of my beloved master, the Chevalier 
 de Lanatico, and he will see justice done." 
 
 " Whew !" whistled Jerry Tripe. " Then the whole business is blown, 
 and there can be no harm in my telling the truth, and so slipping my 
 own neck out of a halter." 
 
 " None in the world," answered Joey, " none in the world. Signer 
 Tripo, and I exhort you very much to tell la veriti. Depend upon it 
 I will reward you for it when I am placed in the situation to which my 
 birth entitles me." 
 
 Jerry paused for a moment without reply, and then inquired in a 
 mellifliious tone — " Why^ Master Joey, whom do you take yourself to 
 be?" 
 
 " The son of Lord Outrun*s sister "by a private marriage," replied 
 Joey Pike. 
 
 " Here's a go !" exclaimed Mr. Tripe, and the constable brought in 
 tha gin. 
 
34-6 THE COMMISSIONER J OR, 
 
 CHAPTER LVII. 
 
 A NUMBER OF OLD GENTLEMEN BROUGHT TO BED — THE CHEVALIER MAKES 
 
 MRS. MUGGINS CONFESS SHE HAS A SECRET AN ESSAY UPON THE VIRTUES 
 
 OF FANCY FOOTBIEN RESUMED. 
 
 Every bed in the Half Moon was occupied ; there was not a hole that 
 had not a magistrate in it. Never had so many pairs of sheets been 
 aired — never was the warming pan so frequently filled with fresh coals 
 — never was such a quantity of punch brewed, except on a club night, 
 as was the case at the Half Moon, after the return of the storming 
 party from Outrun Castle. Mrs. Muggins was as busy as a certain 
 dusky potentate is reputed to be in a gale of wind, and on coming 
 down stairs at length, she held her portly sides, drew a deep breath, 
 and then burst into a slight titter, declaring she had never "tucked up so 
 many old gentlemen in her life before. She did not perceive as she 
 spoke, that the Chevalier de Lunatico was standing close beside the 
 bar ; but as soon as she did perceive it she dropped a low courtesy, 
 saying — 
 
 " La ! sir, I beg your pardon, I did not know you were there. One 
 will say foolish things, you know ; and it is a funny sight to see them all 
 m bed with the clothes under their chin." 
 
 " I dare say it is, Mrs. Muggins," replied the chevalier ; " and as I think 
 you an excellent woman, and one calculated to give good advice, I 
 should like a few words' conversation with you in private." 
 
 " Certainly, sir, certainly," replied Mrs. Muggins ; " we will step into 
 the back parlour directly. Jane, see all those things put to the fire. 
 What are you puddling about there ? There are eight pair of breeches 
 as wet as water, and all the coats and waistcoats. It's lucky poor dear 
 Muggins left such a stock of shirts, and was such a stout man, for his 
 linen fits all sizes ; but as for the coats and them there things, they must 
 be dried. Although his best black coat might suit the alderman tolerably, 
 Mr. Longmore in the blue one would look like a glass of gin in a quart 
 pot. Now, sir, I'm quite ready." 
 
 " Why, my dear madam," said the chevalier, " I will just go 
 and see after my young friend, and bring him with me to converse 
 with you. Lovers are like tame bears, Mrs. Muggins, if one does 
 not keep a chain upon them they are apt to do mischief one way or 
 another." 
 
 " So they are, sir," said Mrs. Muggins, from the bottom of her 
 heart : ** hadn't you better take a glass of wine and a biscuit, sir ?" 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 347 
 
 " I think I had," replied the chevalier, " if you will partake thereof. 
 Let us have a bottle of your best sherry. I will be back with you 
 directly ;" and going back to the bed-chamber in which Mr. Longmore 
 had taken up his temporary dwelling between the sheets, he found 
 Harry Worrel detained somewhat impatiently by the good old gentle- 
 man who was reading him a lecture upon patience, in which optics and 
 ethics, Christianity and hydraulics, were mingled in a wonderful and 
 not very pellucid manner. By the chevalier's tact and discernment, 
 however, the lecture was cut short, and an arrangement was made with 
 the other magistrates, by which it was agreed that they should all 
 assemble again in the principal room at the Half-Moon in three hours 
 from that time, which would bring it to five o'clock ; farther measures 
 were then to be determined upon for the recovery of Laura and the 
 punishment of the abductors. This being settled, Worrel retired with 
 the chevalier who led him to the parlour of Mrs. Muggins, saying to 
 the ostler, who was leaning against the door-post with a straw between 
 his teeth — 
 
 " If you have two fresh horses that we can ride, I wish you would 
 saddle them, and bring them out in a quarter of an hour.'* 
 
 " In a minute, sir, in a minute," replied the man. 
 
 " No, not in a minute," said the chevalier ; " in a quarter of an hour : " 
 and entering the room where the wine was prepared he sat down, poured 
 out a glass for Mrs. Muggins, another for himself, and a third for Harry 
 Worrel. 
 
 " Here's your health, Mrs. Muggins," said the chevalier, in a calm 
 easy way, as if he had made up his mind to make himself comfortable 
 for the next three or four hours. But let it be remarked by the 
 reader that the Chevalier de Lunatico never did any thing inconside- 
 rately. 
 
 " Your health, sir," said Mrs. Muggins, " your health. Master Harry. 
 Lord, Mr. Worrel, don't look so sad, you'll get Miss Laura sooner or 
 later, never fear." 
 
 Harry Worrel nodded to the good landlady, replying — " Thank 
 you, Mrs. Muggins. Nevertheless, I can't help being uneasy in the 
 meantime." 
 
 " Why, that's very true," said the hostess, " you always were 
 an impatient boy. Do you recollect when you used to live in this 
 village, in your young days ? Poor Muggins used to say you was 
 so eager that all through life you would eat the apples before they 
 were ripe." 
 
 " I am afraid of somebody robbing my orchard, if I leave them too 
 long," replied Harry Worrel. " Ay, I recollect those times very well, 
 Mrs. Muggins," and he suffered his mind to rest for a moment or two 
 upon the past. 
 
 As poor Keates once beautifully said — 
 
 " The spirit culls 
 Unfaded amaranth, when wild it strays 
 Through the old garden ground of boyish days." 
 
348 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 But, alas ! in the turmoil and struggle of active existence we have 
 too little time to go gathering on the paths of memory. 
 
 " I think you told me once, Mrs. Muggins," continued Harry Worrel, 
 *' that you knew my father, and mother, and my uncle." 
 
 « Yes, that I did. Master Harry," replied Mrs. Muggins, « I did 
 know your father, and mother, and your uncle." 
 
 The chevalier remarked a particular tone in Mrs. Muggins' speech, 
 which did not surprise him, but excited his inquiring faculties, I won't 
 call it his curiosity, for that is a diiferent thing. " Ay, Mrs. Muggins,'* 
 he said, " I dare say you know more of them than any body else, and 
 could tell us the whole story if you liked." 
 
 " Lord, sir !" said Mrs. Muggins opening her eyes, " what makes you 
 suppose there is any story to tell ?" 
 
 " Because I am sure of it, Mrs. Muggins," replied the chevalier, 
 " and I rather suspect that ere long you will be obliged to tell it." 
 
 " Oh, if I am obliged, sir," said Mrs. Muggins, " that is another 
 affair. I don't know any thing, I only guess, and no one has a right 
 to speak upon guess work. I have been a prudent woman all my 
 days, sir, and never told my husband's secrets, and he was a freemason, 
 or any body else's, for that matter ; so I'll hold my tongue, if you 
 please, till I am obliged to tell." 
 
 " At present, perhaps, it will be better," said the chevalier, " but ere 
 long we will talk more upon the subject." 
 
 " Why not at present, my dear chevalier ?" said Harry Worrel, 
 whose curiosity was now excited, as may be well supposed. " I am 
 sure my dear Mrs. Muggins will tell me any thing that may be for my 
 good." 
 
 " Ay, you're a coaxing lad," replied Mrs. Muggins, with a laugh, 
 " but it won't do. Master Harry. I'm not going to say any thing I can't 
 
 prove, and might be punished for , and besides, I don't know that 
 
 it would be for your good. You are very well off as you are, and might 
 be worse ; so I shall hold my tongue." 
 
 " Let her alone for the present, Worrel," said the chevalier, " the 
 time is coming when she will say more ; and now, Mrs. Muggins, pray 
 tell me, if that is not a secret too, where is it people get marriage 
 licences in this neighbourhood ?" 
 
 " Lawk a mercy, sir, are you going to be married ?" said Mrs. Mug- 
 gins : " well I wouldn't, if I were you, at your time of life, and if I did 
 I'd be married by banns." 
 
 " I'll consider of it," said the Chevalier ; and Mrs. Muggins pro- 
 ceeded : " But, however if you do wish to know, sir, the only person 
 who sells licences is Dr. Hookham, at Swillington, he's what they call 
 the Surrygate. You can't miss your way, you've nothing to do but to 
 ride down the lane where you've been more than once before, I think, 
 and when you've passed the park wall turn to the left — but you know 
 it quite well. Master Harry, don't you ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, I know it quite well," replied Harry Worrel, his face 
 brightening up at the idea of marriage licences, for he had a strong 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 349 
 
 veneration for the chevalier, and a quick imagination which prompted 
 the idea that Mr. de Lunatico knew more of Laura Longmore than he 
 chose to mention, and was about to apply for a licence, in which he and 
 she might both be interested. 
 
 Oh, what a curious thing the imagination of youth is ! The genii who 
 built Aladdin's palace in a night never from all their sparkling stones 
 raised an edifice so splendid as young imagination will build up in a 
 single minute out of empty air. 
 
 " The bosses is ready, sir," said the ostler putting in his head. 
 
 " Come along, Harry," said the chevalier, " I have two or three places 
 to go to while these good gentlemen get comfortably warm," and taking 
 leave of Mrs. Muggins, he proceeded to the horses* backs, upon which 
 they were speedily carried along for about three miles, the chevalier 
 informing Worrel as he went, that his object was, to ascertain when 
 Mr. Fitzurse was really going to be married, thus knocking down poor 
 Harry's air-built castle in a moment. However as action was what the 
 young gentleman principally desired in the state of suspense which he 
 was forced to endure, he was well satisfied to be the chevalier's compa- 
 nion, and the pair rode along at as quick a pace as the hacks of the inn 
 would go, till they reached a certain lime-kiln cut in the chalky bank, 
 as they approached, which Harry Worrel's nag shyed violently with an 
 evident determination not to pass. 
 
 " On my life it's a man's head !" cried Harry Worrel, forcing up his 
 horse to the door- way, " Who are you, my good fellow ? — Oh ! I recol- 
 lect you." 
 
 " Get away, Harry Worrel, get away," cried the man from within, 
 " it is not you I want. Get away, and leave me alone, and mind you 
 tell nobody that you've seen me, or they'll put me in prison again, and 
 swear that I am mad." 
 
 " Ah, poor fellow, I am sorry for you," said Harry Worrel, riding 
 on, " that's poor Trollop, the postman, whose daughter was seduced by 
 that young scoimdrel, Fitzurse," he continued, addressing the chevalier, 
 " you recollect meeting with her in London." 
 
 ** To be sure," replied Mr. de Lunatico : " I must find him out, and 
 give him a ticket as we are coming back ; there can be no doubt of his 
 being one of us. But here I fancy is the place." 
 
 " Yes, that is Swillington church," answered Harry Worrel, " Hook- 
 ham's rectory. He holds this parish and Outrun too, worth sixteen 
 hundred pounds a-year together." 
 
 " Pray, how many parishioners has he ?" asKed the chevalier 
 
 " About four thousand in all," replied Harry Worrel, " but he keeps 
 a curate to do the duty of the parish." 
 
 " And what does he give him ?" said the chevalier. 
 
 " A hundred a-year, I fancy," replied Worrel quietly. 
 
 " That is a bad system," said the chevalier, " for of course the curate 
 must be a poor ignorant creature who will not do his important duties 
 as they ought to be done." 
 
 " I beg your pardon," cried Worrel, almost indignantly, " he is one 
 
350 THE COMMISSIONER ', OR, 
 
 of the most amiable, excellent, well-informed young men that I 
 know. He works from morning tiU night, visiting the sick, consoling 
 the poor, supporting the well-disposed, and exhorting the vicious. If 
 it were not for him both parishes would be utterly neglected, for this 
 Hookham is a cunning, mercenary, hard-living sot." 
 
 " And has sixteen hundred pounds a-year for doing nothing," said 
 the chevalier, " while the good priest has one ? May I ask who are the 
 people at the head of your church ?" 
 
 « Oh, the bishops and archbishops," replied Harry Worrel. 
 
 " Ah !" said the chevalier, " if they don't make some new arrange- 
 ment I shall have the whole bench up stairs presently." 
 
 " The fact is," replied Worrel, " that Hookham married a lady of 
 rank and fortune — with a somewhat damaged reputation, it is true, but 
 still she has influence, and that is the secret of his having so much pre- 
 ferment. Her brother gave him Swillington, and the viscount gave 
 him Outrun, after a drinking bout one night." 
 
 The chevalier mused, and in a few minutes they came up to those 
 gates from which Laura Longmore had been repulsed so unceremo- 
 niously. 
 
 " Is Dr. Hookham at home ?" said the chevalier, when the long 
 footman appeared. 
 
 The lackey eyed him from head to foot, and looked at his horse 
 before he answered. But, as we have before shown, there was a tone 
 of authority about the chevalier which was not'easy to be resisted, and 
 the good gentleman in a somewhat supercilious manner, answered that 
 he believed he was. 
 
 " Call a groom then to take the horses," said Mr. de Lunatico, 
 and the effect upon the lackey's mind was complete, for it is 
 extraordinary how soon quiet self-possession overpowers vulgar 
 insolence. 
 
 The groom was called, and the chevalier and Harry Worrel were 
 shown into a room in which sat the doctor and Lady Amelia Hookham. 
 The former was a tall, stout, well-formed man of fifty, with a fat heavy 
 face, small eyes, and a very blue beard. Drunkenness produces 
 various effects upon different complexions — in some instances it pro- 
 duces redness, in some paleness, and his was the white sort. He had a 
 peculiar expression about the mouth too, which frequently follows 
 habitual inebriety, giving the idea of constant sickness of stomach, so 
 that to judge by his face the doctor appeared to be under the continual 
 influence of ipecacuanha. 
 
 When the name of the Chevalier de Lunatico was announced, and it 
 was the only one given, the worthy doctor looked over the newspaper 
 which he was reading, and then slowly rose upon his end. His lady, 
 however, who was a faded beauty in second matrimony, turned suddenly 
 round with her face fluttering with blonde and supposititious hair, ex- 
 claiming with a sweet simper, " Ah, chevalier, I am delighted to see 
 you. This is really kind of you ! My friend Lord Abissee wrote me 
 word he had met you in London. He says you are a very remarkable 
 person." 
 
DE LtNATICO INQUIRENDO. 351 
 
 " I am, madam," replied the chevalier coolly. " I trust I have the 
 pleasure of seeing your ladyship quite well." 
 
 " Tolerably," said Lady Amelia, in a somewhat discontented tone — 
 " moped to death of course, in this dull place, with nobody but Hookham 
 to entertain one, and he, poor man, you know, has neither wit nor con- 
 versation." 
 
 *' As to wit," said Dr. Hookham benignly, " if I had any it would be 
 a pity to waste it on your ladyship, and as to conversation, whatever 
 there is in the family, you take care to have it all to yoursflf." 
 
 " A happy pair," thought the chevalier. " It's good that some of the 
 comforts of matrimony should be placed before the eyes of those who 
 come seeking marriage-licences." 
 
 " I wish. Lady Amelia," continued the doctor, " you would make 
 that footman somewhat more regular in his habits, here it is near three 
 o'clock, and the luncheon is not laid yet." 
 
 " You are always abusing the footman, doctor," said Lady Amelia 
 Hookham, " and I'm sure he is one of the best servants you ever had. 
 Why, he stands six foot three ; and such a calf to his leg — I never take 
 a footman imder six foot, chevalier, and I have been very lucky this 
 time." 
 
 " I think so, indeed, madam," replied the chevalier ; " I have always 
 understood that, in this country, the moral qualities of the domestics 
 are in the exact ratio of their inches." 
 
 " The inverse ratio you mean, sir," grumbled Dr. Hookham ; " the 
 taller the greater thieves." 
 
 " Pray, does your ladyship take the same view of the subject ?" said 
 the chevalier, exerting his full powers upon her. 
 
 " I care nothing about that," replied the lady ; " I like to have good- 
 looking men about me, none of your little, mean-looking footmen. No 
 coachman enters my service under sixteen stone ; and no footman under 
 six foot. If they are thieves I can't help it, but I won't have my coach- 
 box, or the back of my chair disgraced by a pigmy, if he were as vir- 
 tuous as an angel." The chevalier put his hand in his breeches-pocket 
 and drew out a ticket, but he kept it in the palm of his hand till such 
 time as he had settled the matter with Dr. Hookham. 
 
 " Your ladyship is perfectly right," he said. " We judge exactly in 
 the same way in my country, as I hope to show your ladyship some 
 day ; but my business at present is with the reverend doctor. I wish 
 to know if he can tell me where any very respectable surrogate lives, of 
 whom a man of rank and consequence would like to get a marriage 
 licence." 
 
 " I am your man," said Dr. Hookham, his whole face becoming ani- 
 mated, " and I shall be very happy to perform the ceremony also. It's 
 only this morning that I gave a licence to the Honourable Frederick 
 Augustus Henry Fitzurse, and I am to meet him to-morrow morning at 
 Outrun church to tack him and the lady together. The fee is to be 
 five guineas ; but mind, it's quite a secret, you must not mention it to 
 any one." 
 
352 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 " It is precisely the secret I wanted to know," said the chevalier, 
 rising ; and, placing the billet in the lady's hands, he added, " Permit 
 me to offer your ladyship my address, and, trusting to see you again 
 soon, allow me to wish you a good morning." 
 
 Thus saying, he nodded familiarly to Dr. Hookham, and, accompa- 
 nied by Harry Worrel, quitted the room abruptly. The lady started 
 and screamed, and threw the ticket down on the table ; but Dr. Hookham 
 took it up, and when he had read it he laughed aloud — calling the 
 chevalier one of the best fellows he had ever ssen. 
 
DE LUNATIOO INQUIREWDO. 
 
 m 
 
 CHAPTER LVIII. 
 
 JOEY iMKE KECOVER8 SPIRITS HIS OWN ACCOUNT OP UIMSEI.F TRIPE OX MAaiS~ 
 
 TERIAL APFOINTMENTS AN ESSAY ON SUSPENDED ANIMATION. 
 
 It is wonderful how the spirits of Joey Pike rose as the gin got into 
 hira. Every man can make a spirit barometer point to fair weather 
 if he will but fill it full enough. It may damage the instrument a 
 little, it is true, but still the receipt is an infallible one ; and man, 
 who is, after all, but a measure of the baros that is upon him, bears 
 it up decidedly more lightly upon a full stomach than an empty one. 
 Things began to look very bright in the eyes of Joey Pike. The warm 
 water was not without its effect, and the companionship of the jovial 
 butler was an immense suj)port. Instead of being the Martyr of 
 Antioch in his own eyes, Joey resumed the hero again, and transformed 
 himself, in his own imagination, from Mademoiselle Brochet into 
 Latour d'Auvergne, premier grenadier de la France. He was in- 
 dulging in this sweet grandeur \\'hen the voice of Mr. Tripe roused 
 him with a fat and rotund cachinnation. 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha, Joey !" cried the butler of Outrun Castle ; " so you 
 are a great man after all. Now, sit down quietly, and tell me all 
 about it, and how you came to know it." 
 
 " I will," replied Joey, seating himself upon the edge of the bed, 
 fiom which he had risen as his spirits rose the moment before, and 
 by which he had been standing much in the attitude of one of Fuseli's 
 fallen angels — that is to say, very much a-straddle. " I will. Monsieur 
 Tripe. Ecco ! The sister of Viscount Outrun was privately married. 
 Can you deny that ?" 
 
 " Oh ! I deny nothing," replied Jerry Tripe, who would have passed 
 the most ridiculous proposition that ever was propounded with the 
 same facility which a British house of commons displayed in passing 
 Rowland Hill's bill for diminishing the revenue, ruining the post-office, 
 over-working the clerks, breaking down the mail-coaches, and tor- 
 menting unfortunate gentlemen with letters from every ass who chooses 
 to write to them about nothing at all. " Oh I I deny nothing. But 
 wiiat then ?" 
 
 " From this matrimonio segreto^^ continued Joey, '* sprang a son. 
 Can you deny that, Jerry Tripe ?" 
 
 ** Oh ! I deny nothing," replied Jerry Tripe, once more. " What 
 became of the young gentleman ?" 
 
 "Eccolo!" cried Joey at the top of his voice, strikir.g his breast at 
 the same time. 
 
 "Ha, lia, ha," shouted Jerry Tripe; "ha, ha, ha. ha! so you've 
 c. — NO. XII. '2 a 
 
354 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 found it out at last, Joey. Well, 'pon my life, it makes a good story. 
 I dare say it's true ? Why, you were brought up at Outrun Castle 
 too. Many a time I have kicked your young lordship round the 
 kitchen wlien you've made faces at my nose. Ha, ha, ha ! 'pon my 
 life, we'll adopt it." 
 
 Just as he was in one of these fits of laughter which not a little 
 disconcerted poor Joey Pike, the door of the Black Hole opened, and 
 the worthy constable put in his head, exclaiming — 
 
 " A gentleman wants to speak wi' ye, Measter Tripe. There's two 
 
 on 'em." 
 
 « Show them in, show them in," cried Jerry Tripe, waving his hand : 
 " we will receive them were they ten instead of two. Ah, my revered 
 friend the chevalier, and Mr. Worrel, too ; but, chevalier, if you 
 would have any private conference with me it must be alone. Two 
 is company, three is none, chevalier. Never give meat to a cat 
 with three ears. Two men may part a small mess between them, 
 but a third will leave nothing for either." 
 
 " I only wish to inquire," said the chevalier, " if you are disposed 
 to answer the question I put to you this morning ?" 
 
 " Most profoundly," replied Jerry Tripe. *' My doctors advise 
 change of air ; they consider this residence too low for me ; they would 
 not recommend exactly too elevated a situation, such as that where 
 the hemp tree grows, yet they consider that the sooner I alter my 
 residence the better, and I perfectly agree with them. You see, 
 chevalier," he continued, holding up the little pewter mug of spirits, 
 and turning it on one side so as to evince that it was not quite so 
 full as it once had been — " you see, I have a tendency towards con- 
 sumption, and am just now subject to a lowness of spirits. There- 
 fore whatever be your recipe I will take it, and trust you will 
 acknowledge that I am a tractable patient." 
 
 " I think I understand you," said the chevalier ; " and never doubted 
 that you would listen to reason. But how is the matter to be managed 
 now, and how am I to get you out of this place, which is certainly a 
 very disagreeable one ? You are, of course, condemned already — 
 summary justice in your country, it seems." 
 
 *' Condemned !" cried Jerry Tripe. " W^hy, I am only just nabbed 
 — oh, no, thank God, I have three months to come and go upon yet." 
 
 " What !" exclaimed the chevalier : " so people put a man into such 
 a hole as this without his being condemned ? That is impossible !" 
 
 " So probably the law thought," replied Jerry Tripe, " when it put 
 power in the hands of local magistrates. But I'll tell you how we 
 manage matters in England, my dear chevalier. It's a complicated 
 system, and worth your attention. We've a thing called a govern- 
 ment, consisting of some thirteen or fourteen persons, each having a 
 considerable number of friends and relations, all of whom want as 
 much money as they can get. The government itself is chosen by 
 a somewhat round-about process out of two parties who are always 
 fighting about nothing, and who meet once a-year in the Chapel of 
 St. Stephen " 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 355 
 
 " He was the first martyr, I think," said the chevalier. 
 
 " Yes," said Jerry, " and must still suffer martyrdom every night<if 
 he's any thing to do with his chapel ; for there, as I said, these two 
 parties meet, and play at what the boys call ' pull devil, pull baker.' 
 Whichever's the strongest — and they have two grand means of recruiting 
 their party, bribery and palaver — chooses the ministers, and they, calling 
 themselves the government, appoint what are called the lords lieute- 
 nants of counties, taking of course the men who have bribed most or 
 palavered most on their behalf. Then the lords lieutenants look about 
 the county for men who have plenty of money in their purses, and 
 who pretty generally belong to their own party, and these they get 
 appointed as magistrates." 
 
 " Of course they are thoroughly acquainted with the law ?" said the 
 chevalier. 
 
 " Oh ! dear, no," replied Jerry Tripe ; " they know nothing of the 
 law at all. As soon as they are appointed they buy a book called 
 < Burn's Justice,' and if they can square their conduct by that they 
 are very well contented. But in the hands of these men are placed 
 the rule and governance of all the prisons, and the treatment of the 
 prisoners. They can do just what they like with a poor man, knowing 
 very well that there is no chance of their being punished for any thing 
 they do unless somebody with money takes the matter up, and then 
 most likely they will be supported by those in authority," 
 
 " Pooh, nonsense !" said the chevaliei ; "this must be calumny. I 
 can't help thinking, my good friend, that you must have been really 
 tried and convicted, otherwise you would never be here, crammed 
 into a hole, a day's sojourn in which must be almost as bad as 
 hanging." 
 
 " I can't tell," replied Jerry ; " I never was hanged ; but what I say 
 is true nevertheless. Ask Joey Pike, there." 
 
 " Ah ! my poor Joey, is that you ?" cried the chevalier : " if they 
 have put you in here, my poor Joey, what he says must be true." 
 
 " C'est trop vrai^ cried Joey, emphatically. " Ob, cattivo sofj- 
 giornoP 
 
 "It isn't fit for a cat or a dog either," cried Jerry Tripe, " We are 
 a funny people, chevalier, as you'll find out when you've known us long 
 enough. The most honest man in the world may be taken up and 
 crammed in here, and remanded day after day if he do not know where 
 to ^'^X. bail; maybe deprived of light, air, and exercise, his health 
 destroyed, his business utterly ruined for want of his presence, he him- 
 self made a bankrupt, and his family brought to starvation by any 
 rascal who chooses to eu ear a crime against him and take his chance of 
 the consequences. A man may be going to London with money to pay a 
 debt due on a particular day ; he stops at an inn and meets with some 
 scoundrel whom he has punished in former days ; the scoundrel gives 
 him in charge to a constable, and swears a crime against him ; the con- 
 stable takes him before a magistrate, the magistrate remands him for 
 further examination, the debt's unpaid, the bill protested^ a docket 
 struck, the man a bankrupt, and then the law says iliere is no wrong 
 
356 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 without a remedy ; but a few months' hard labour on the part of a false 
 accuser does not seem to me to be any remedy at all for such evils as 
 the honest man has suffered." 
 
 " Why, Jerry," said Harry Worrel, " you seem to have got won- 
 derfully moralizing and philosophical since you got into prison.'* 
 
 " I always was, sir," replied Jerry Tripe ; " I am the only man in 
 England who has always acted upon principle. I always considered 
 the end and object of all things. The chevalier knows we've discoursed 
 upon such subjects before." 
 
 " Yes, Jerry," said Mr. de Lunatico, " but did you ever consider your 
 own end ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, sir," replied Jerry Tripe. " I've made up my mind to its 
 being what it's likely to be ; but in this country it is well worth while 
 to commit great crimes — every thing on earth is done to encourage 
 murder. I wonder that the art has not prospered more than it has ; 
 for when the greater punishments are awarded for minor crimes why 
 should a man stop at being wicked by halves ? I'll tell you how it is, 
 chevalier. We've a very odd way of proceeding, we are a humane 
 people and very charitable, we build hospitals and take care of broken 
 legs and arms. We provide gruel for lying-in women, and pretend to 
 think immensely of human suffering and infirmity. But tlien, if a man 
 have taken four or five bits of yellow metal on the king's highway, or 
 written another man's name by mistake instead of his own, we calmlj 
 and deliberately keep him in prison for a great many months, tortur(; 
 his mind and confine his body, and at last take him out between a par- 
 son and a butcher, with his arms tied behind his back, with his heart 
 sinking, and his knees shaking. Then they put a rope round his neck, 
 and while the parson is talking to him to take off his attention, like a 
 conjurer's clown, the butcher pulls out a bolt, away goes the floor on 
 which the poor devil stands, he gives a great gulp, draws his knees up 
 to his chin, swings about for a minute with a quiver and a struggle, and 
 then all the thousands of people who have been looking on go away 
 very well satisfied. After which the newspapers tell us all about it, 
 and say, ' he was launched into eternity !' A very pretty launch 
 indeed — more like a shipwreck I should think." 
 
 " And from this shipwreck you are determined to save yourself I 
 hope," said the chevalier, returning to his point. 
 
 "Oh, certainly," replied Jerry. "I never was fond of a marine 
 life, and always hated wood and cordage. But here's our good friend 
 Joey liere can tell you all about what you want to know as well 
 as I can. Tell the chevalier, Joey, tell him. He was giving me a full, 
 true, and particular account this very minute." 
 
 " C'estfait" cried Joey : " I have told him already." 
 
 " What ! and he wouldn't believe you ?" said Jerry Tripe. " Well, 
 chevalier, one thing I will say even now. Joey has not deceived you ; 
 part of what he says is true, and the rest he believes. If you get me 
 out of this scrape I will tell you the rest, but still you will have a good 
 deal to do for yourself before you can set the matter right." 
 
 " But can I trust you for giving me all the information you possess?" 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 357 
 
 replied the chevalier. '* If I decline to prosecute, you may draw back 
 and refuse to tell." 
 
 " Sir," cried Jerry Tripe, rising up and laying his hand upon his 
 stomach, thinking probably that his heart was there, "I gire you my 
 word of honour, and you must have seen that I am a man of honour. 
 Did 1 not resolutely go to prison, and was I not prepared to meet 
 death itself rather than violate my word ? And even now I would not 
 tell you any thing had not Joey here got hold of a letter by which 
 sooner or later the whole secret must come out. Sir, I promise you 
 upon my honour I will communicate all I know if you decline to pro- 
 secute." 
 
 " I think you may trust him, my dear sir," said Harry Worrel, good 
 humouredly. 
 
 " Oh yes," cried Joey Pike, enthusiastically. ** C^est un homme 
 d'honneur. You can confide in Signer Tripo. What, though his belly 
 be his god, and his nose a carbuncle, yet the light of honour shines in 
 his occhi, and he will not deceive you." 
 
 " Very well," said the chevalier, " I will trust him, but this communi- 
 cation must be made as soon as he is at liberty. Come, Harry Worrel, 
 it is time that we should return, for the magistrates must be now rising 
 again, and there is much to do." 
 
 " Pause, pause, chevalier," said Joey Pike, " and let me not be in- 
 carcerated here till I thaw and dissolve into a dew. Bear a message 
 from me to the magistrates — it is but two words. If they will hear me 
 I will tell them who is the murderer of the deceased Scapulary. Bid 
 them but listen and attend to justice, and I will prove my own inno- 
 cence and another's guilt. Tell them, oh tell them !" 
 
 " I will, Joey," replied the chevalier ; and knocking with his hand 
 upon the door the constable appeared and gave him exit. 
 
 -at^ 
 
358 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER LIX. 
 
 AN ESSAY UPON FORCE OF CHARACTER MH. LONGSHANKS MAKES CSK OP PUNCH IK 
 
 A WAY IT WAS NEVER USED BEFORE H F. IS OVER-CONFIDENT JOEY PIKE TAKES 
 
 AN AIRINO UE FORGETS HIS PROMISE A CONSTABLE KILLS A PIG IN SINGLB 
 
 COMBAT. 
 
 As the reader knows, the distance from the village of Outrun to the 
 town of Market Greenford was not great, and a ride of twenty minutes 
 brought the chevalier and Harry Worrel to the door of the Half 
 Moon. They rode at a pretty tolerable pace, it is true, for they 
 were hack horses you know, reader, and if you expect either a com- 
 missioner of lunacy or a lunatic commissioner to spare a hack horse 
 you are very much mistaken. Besides, the chevalier was in haste, 
 and when he arrived, as he expected, he found all the magistrates up 
 
 and stirring a bowl of hot punch, in order to clear their intellects 
 
 upon a very momentous question which was at that moment going on 
 amongst them. They were ranged on each side of a table,'but neither 
 Mr. Puddenstream, nor Mr. Rotundity, nor Mr. Longmore, was at the 
 top of the table. No : Mr. Longshanks himself occupied the chair 
 of state, with a ladle in his hand and his cocked hat upon his head. 
 
 " How came he there ?" the reader asks. Simply by force of cha- 
 racter, sir — force of character, which not only carries men into the 
 highest stations, but keeps them there too. The man who yields to 
 the pressure from without may reckon the days of his ministry 
 numbered, whatever may be the measures he is called to perform. 
 Church, state, law, army, in each a man must judge by his own lights, 
 and if behave not light enough he had better put on his nightcap and go to 
 bed. Simply by the force of character was Mr. Longshanks there, reader ; 
 but it must be remembered that that force of character showed itself 
 in every action and in every situation of his life, as I have endeavoured 
 to impress upon you by various remarkable exemplifications. There 
 was no question whatsoever could be brought before him, on which 
 he had not formed an opinion. He had used his reason, rightly or 
 \yrongly, in every thing ; he had taken his stand, formed his determina- 
 tion, and there he was, ready to do battle on the point at issue with any 
 one and every one. Such are the characters, reader, from which the 
 men must be selected who rule the world, and even those who are not 
 chosen for such a high office, generally, if they like it, rule the society 
 round them. 
 
 Mr. Longshanks had come thither upon business, and he had in- 
 stantly taken the first place. Thus he was at the head of the table, as 
 I have said, with his cocked hat upon his head and the ladle in his 
 hand, the punch before him and the magistrates and glasses around. 
 He had helped Mr. Deputy Popeseye to a ladle full of punch, and he 
 
DK LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 359 
 
 was in the ret of replying to a crudity which had fallen from the lips 
 of Mr. Puddenstream. 
 
 " I tell you, sir," he said, " it must be so, and it shall be so. You 
 are as fit to be a magistrate, sir, as this bowl of punch — nay, not half 
 so fit ; for here we find the true representation of justice tempered 
 with mercy, energy with consideration. Here, sir, we have the sour 
 decision of the lemon juice, the sweet softness of the lump sugar, the 
 fiery vigour of the spirit, with the happy medium of the hot water. 
 A clove of law and a scrape of prudential nutmeg give spice to the 
 whole, and prevent the flatulence of official pride. What, sir, can be 
 a better emblem of an excellent magistrate? But now, tell me, sir, 
 which of these qualities do you show in wishing to detain a man in 
 prison till to-morrow who ought to be set free to-night ? No spirit, 
 for such an act is dull as ditch water; no sugar, for it is a bitter 
 injustice; and if, as I grant, there be any sourness in it, it is the 
 sourness of stale beer and not of the citron, the unwholesome decom- 
 position of a homely household beverage, and not the Iragrant juice 
 of a fine and salutary fruit. It is no use answering, sir, for Joey is 
 already sent for, and I and the rest of the magistrates will stay here 
 and examine into his case, whatever you may think fit to do. Take 
 some punch, sir, take some punch ; it is the best thing that has gone 
 into your mouth or come out of it to-day." 
 
 Mr. Puddenstream was always bewildered in the presence of Mr. 
 Longshanks ; that gentleman was so rapid, and eke so excited, that 
 the worthy magistrate did not know where to have him for full five 
 minutes after the speech was over ; so he sat, and sulked, and drank 
 his punch, meditating what it would have been better to say if he had 
 but had the readiness to say it. In the presence of all others Mr. 
 Puddenstream was a great man, in the presence of Mr. Longshanks he 
 was lost. 
 
 " Ah ! chevalier, ah ! Harry Worrel," cried Mr. I.ongmore, " here's 
 our friend Longshanks requires us, before we return to Outrun Castle, 
 to examine into the case of Joey Pike, who ought to be set at liberty 
 he says — first, because he is not committed upon the coroner's warrant; 
 and secondly, because he himself can show, beyond all doubt, that 
 Joey had no hand in the murder of old Scapulary." 
 
 *' I and the chevalier can show that," replied Harry Worrel : " he 
 was with us at the time ; and besides, he had no motive." 
 
 " I can't tell that," said Mr. Puddenstream. 
 
 " Then he should be set at liberty till you can," replied Mr. Long- 
 shanks ; " and perhaps you ought to take his place." 
 
 " Do you mean to say, sir, " cried Mr. Puddenstream, rising 
 
 in wrath. 
 
 " I mean to say, sir," said Mr. Longshanks, interrupting him, " that 
 any man who sends another to prison without reasonable cause, ought 
 to be sent to prison himself, to let him see how he likes it," 
 
 " But, my excellent friend," said Harry Worrel, anxious to put an 
 end to a debate which, however disagreeable to other people, enter- 
 tained tiie Chevalier de Lunatico highly, "do you not think Joey 
 
3t)0 THE COMMISSIOPTER ; OR, 
 
 could be kept here quietly in the inn till we have gone to Outran 
 Castle, and " 
 
 " And played the fool and the devil," said Mr. Longshanks, " in 
 search of a girl who is not there. A very sweet, dear, pretty, good 
 girl she is, God bless her ; but she is not there, Harry Worrel. I tell 
 you she is not there. I will be answerable for it. In the meantime, 
 ask if they have sent for Joey Pike." 
 
 Joey Pike, indeed, was sent for, and to his great joy some three 
 quarters of an hour after the chevalier had left him, the constable 
 came in and told him he was wanted before the magistrates at the 
 Half Moon. Joey sprang up in the attitude of the dancing fawn, but 
 his joy was soon somewhat quelled by the constable scratching his 
 head and saying — 
 
 " I think I ought to put the cuffs upon you, Master Joey." 
 
 " Ah, no, no, no !" cried Joey, putting himself into an attitude of 
 adjuration : " joer pieteif mon connHahle. I promise thee, I swear to 
 thee, 1 will make not the slightest effort to escape. I will walk beside 
 thee like a lamb to the slaughter. I will " 
 
 " Well, well," said the constable, " I'll trust ye, my lad ; but hang 
 me if you run if I don't shoot ye. So come along — look here, Pve got 
 a pistol," and away they went out of Market Greenford by the quietest 
 way, but not quite escaping the company of some half dozen boys 
 whom Joey's singular dress drew after him with all powerful attrac- 
 tion. Unbonneted, unshawled, unwigged, as we have before described 
 him, the hermaphrodite prisoner jogged on by the side of the con- 
 stable, with the boys following and hooting a little, and Joey striving 
 to conceal his mortification by talking eagerly to the officer, till, issuing 
 out from amongst the last houses of the town, the road passed through 
 some fields and broken ground, beyond which, at the distance of about 
 half a mile, was seen the wall and trees of Outrun park. Suddenly, 
 as they were passing some low hawthorn bushes upon a green, Joey 
 exclaimed — " Ah ! Dieu^ cest lui /" and, utterly forgetful of his own 
 promise and the constable's threat, away he darted like a madman 
 over the common. 
 
 The constable exclaimed, " Stop, damme, stop, or I'll shoot you, 
 by — — ;" and as he spoke he ran. The boys ran too, but Joey ran 
 faster. Away scampered a herd of pigs, out sprang a man from behind 
 the hawthorn bushes, and ran faster than any, while Joey, shouting 
 " Stop him, stop him," dashed on at full speed, and the constable, drawing 
 forth his pistol, cocked it as he ran along. How the boys shouted ! how 
 the pigs galloped! how the geese flew and squalled! It was the work 
 of an instant, as novelists say ; and almost at the same moment the 
 man who fled before Joey ran up to his neck in a pond ; Joey rushed 
 in after him, and caught him by the throat ; the constable fired, and, 
 shooting a pig through the body, fell headlong over the corpse, while 
 all the little boys surrounded the pond and gave one universal yell of 
 delight. 
 
I>E LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 3j|| 
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 MU. LONQSHANKS PEOVED IN THE WBONO THE FDOITIVE DISCOVEHED IHB 
 
 peer's resolve LAURA DECEIVED. 
 
 Mr. Longshanks was a great man, but he was no more than a man after 
 all ; and a certain degree of rashness and precipitancy, very difficult to 
 be separated from rapidity of combination and decision of character, 
 were the blemishes which appeared in his truly fine mind. Now, what 
 was the consequence of these blemishes on the present occasion ? Why 
 that Mr. Lougshanks undertook to say a thing that he knew nothing 
 about. He undertook to say that Laura Longmore was not in Outrun 
 Castle, and we aver that he could not know whether she was there or 
 not. He believed her to be sitting in his own library, quietly reading 
 Milton's Paradise Lost, or some other of the few good, decent, and de- 
 corous books which our ancestors have transmitted to us. But Laura 
 Longmore was not there, and therefore he had no right to say where 
 she was. To give the reader more insight into the matter, and yet to 
 keep him utterly in the dark, we will beg his company for five or ten 
 minutes more in Outrun Castle, at the precise moment and period of 
 the day when the chevalier quitted it after having been upon his morn- 
 ing expedition to Viscount Outrun, and before the magistrates made 
 their ill-starred visit. The reader will be pleased to remember the 
 exact arrangement of time in all the wonderful events we have related, 
 and especially how the chevalier paid his respects at the house of the 
 Rev. Dr. Hookham and his elegant and respectable lady. Well, then, 
 no sooner had the chevalier taken his departure than in came a servant, 
 saying, " Here's Tim, my lord, the looker-out, says he's got something 
 to tell your lordship." 
 
 '' What is it ?" cried Viscount Outrun, in a sharp tone, for to say the 
 truth he was somewhat cross ; " what is it he has to tell ?" 
 
 " He won't say, my lord," replied the footman. " I tried to pump 
 him, but lie's as tight as a tea-caddy." 
 
 " When it is locked," added the peer, thinking the simile incomplete 
 as it stood. " Send him in, send him in. Some mare's nest, I suppose." 
 
 " Here, Tim, come in and speak with his lordship," said the servant 
 going to the door ; and in rolled a bumpkin, with a thin scattered head 
 of hair, a very wide mouth, a bend in the hams, gained by the habit of 
 standing for twenty years during the greater part of every day from the 
 first of September till the beginning of February, with his knees bowed, 
 his hands upon his knees, and his head bent forward in order to peer 
 from under the branches of some fir trees on the look out ior poachers. 
 
 "He, he, he!" cried the man as soon as he entered, after making a 
 low duck of the head. " He, he, he, I've found un out, my lord." 
 
362 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 " The devil you have !" cried the })eer ; " and who is un ?''' 
 
 " Why she to be sure, my lord," replied the man. " She that I helped 
 to cotch the night of the fire at Ivy Hall, and as the folks were looking 
 after all yesterday." 
 
 " Ho, ho !" cried the peer ; " and where has my little fox taken earth ? 
 She's a famous little jade. By jingo! I am half in love with her my- 
 self. Where has she hid herself, man, where has she hid herself?" 
 
 " Why at Surgeon Longshanks' to be sure," replied the man ; " every 
 one as wants some one to help them goes there ; and as I was dodging 
 about there looking arter that rascal Smalldram, who has been up to 
 his old tricks again, picking up leverets and that like, I saw Miss Laura 
 over the garden hedge, so I comed to tell your lordship." 
 
 " That is right, that is right," cried the peer ; " but after all," he con- 
 tinued, " I don't know what's to be done. By jingo ! one may get into 
 a mess. I think I'll just let her alone, though it's a great bore to be 
 baulked too " 
 
 Just as he spoke Jerry Tripe entered the room — Jerry Tripe with 
 his face pale, not from sickness but from emotion. 
 
 " Tenible news, my lord," he cried ; " terrible news " and then 
 
 he stopped short, seeing the worthy Timotheus who instead of striking 
 the sounding lyre was now standing with his knees bent and his hands 
 upon his knees as we have before described him, peeping into the 
 viscount's face to see if he could discover his opinion, just as he would 
 have peeped under a holly bush for a cock pheasant. 
 
 " What's the news, Jerry, what's the news ?" cried the peer. " By 
 jingo, I am just like the commander-in-chief of an army, with all my 
 scouts coming in." 
 
 Jerry laid his right finger upon his proboscis and glanced at 
 Timothy. 
 
 "Well, well," said his noble master, "you can whisper. Tim, go 
 into that corner, turn your face to the w£dl, and stop both your ears, 
 sir." 
 
 Tim did as he was bid, presenting as round a stern as any new ship 
 in her majesty's navy. 
 
 "Now, Jerry, now," cried the peer, "fire away ;" and Jerry bring- 
 ing his mouth as near to his lordship's ear as the circumstances of his 
 nose would admit, he said something in so low a tone that it escaped 
 our hearing. 
 
 " By jingo !" cried the peer, " you don't say so. Who to, who to, 
 Jerry, I say ?" 
 
 " Ay, that I can't tell, my lord," replied Jerry. " All I know is, 
 that they are gone for a licence. That I ferretted from the other man, 
 Winterton. I dare say it's some trull though — you know he always 
 'had a fancy that way." 
 
 " I'll— I'll— I'll," cried the peer—" I'll do for him. I'll cut him off 
 with a shilling." 
 
 " Has your lordship got one ?" said Jerry Tripe. " If not, I shall 
 be very happy to advance a small sum." 
 
 " By jingo, Jerry, I'll marry again," cried the peer. " I'll marry 
 
DK LUNATICO INQUIKENDO. 36.3 
 
 Laura Longmore myself, get her fortune, and clear off the debt. She'll 
 be Viscountess Outrun, that's all any girl cares about ; and then we'll 
 tap the '87, and have a roaring wedding. Hark ye, Tim, come here — 
 you're sure what you've told me is true ?" 
 
 " That I am, my lord," cried the man, bobbing. " I see'd her with 
 my own eyes as plain as ever I see a hare in a furrow." 
 
 *• And now can you be secret as a mouse in a Parmesan cheese ?" 
 demanded the peer. 
 
 " That I can, my lord," replied the man. *' I'll do any thing that 
 your lordship likes." 
 
 *' That's what I call being a faithful servant," exclaimed Lord Outrun. 
 " Now then get together the keepers and your brethren of the look-out 
 department. I will write a little note to Miss Longmore, begging her 
 to come and see her father immediately, along with the bearer. You 
 are to take the note, and to tell her he is at the Half Moon at Outrun 
 ■ He is there, so it's no lie." 
 
 " I doan't care for that, my lord," replied the veracious Timothy, 
 " so as I pleases your lordship." 
 
 " Thou art the prince of devotees,'' cried the peer. " But listen, 
 Tim, listen. Station the keepers and the other lookers in one of the 
 sand-pits upon the moor, as near the park walls as you well can : then 
 take her along, pass the pit, and the moment she appears let your 
 ambuscade start out and surromid her. Then bring her hito the park 
 as fast as possible — but gently, you know, gently. Now go and 
 get them together while I write the note. Jerry Tripe, Jerry Tripe," 
 continued the viscount as soon as Timothy was gone, " 1 was always a 
 decided man — was I not, Jerry Tripe ?" 
 
 " That your lordship always was," replied Jerry, " and have drank 
 more claret, spent more money, and horsewhipped more men, women, 
 and children, than any other man now living in Europe, 1 believe — 
 Oh, yes, a very decided man, indeed. You never stuck at half mea- 
 sures, or half bottles either." 
 
 " No," said the peer, " and if I did, you drank them, Jerry." 
 
 " That I did, my lord," said Jerry with a sigh — sweet memory com- 
 ing up with her lambent flame, and casting a pale and somewhat 
 nielancholy light over the ocean of various kinds of liquor which had 
 gone down his throat, never to return. 
 
 " Well then, Jerry," cried his lordship, " this shall be the crowning 
 act of my whole life. If profligate Freddy Fitzurse chooses to disgrace 
 himself, as you suppose he will, and as I doubt not is likely to be the 
 case, from his going to get a marriage-licence without my will and 
 consent, I will marry Laura Longmore myself, saddle the Outrun 
 estates with a large settlement, and have half a dozen younger children 
 to punish him as he deserves." 
 
 " My lord, your resolution is worthy of an old Roman," said Jerry 
 Tripe ; *'and when you are making your will, 1 hope you will not forget 
 your humble servant. There is the pair of great branch candlesticks, 
 which I have cleaned for thirty years, and I d»Mi't iL'rA either they or 
 I would survive it if we were parted.'* 
 
364 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 « You shall have them, Jerry, you shall have them," said the peer; 
 " my son is unworthy of branch candlesticks. Now bring me some 
 paper and a pen and ink, that I may write this note to pretty Laura 
 Longmore ;" and sitting down he traced with as fine and steady a hand 
 as he could command an artful note to the fair Laura, telling her merely 
 that she was requested to come instantly to see her father at the Half 
 Moon at Outrun, where he was by no means well. " The bearer," 
 continued the note, " is sent to accompany Miss Longmore in case of 
 danger." 
 
 " There, Jerry, there," cried the peer, " run and see if the men are 
 ready. We must not lose a moment's time ; for if that old humbug 
 Longshanks gets home from his round, our plot will be inevitably 
 destroyed." 
 
 In two minutes Jerry Tripe returned with the information that enough 
 of gamekeepers and assistants were collected for the proposed purpose, 
 and after having called them all into his presence, and harangued them 
 upon their several spheres of action, the peer gave them each a glass of 
 brandy, and dismissed them upon their enterprise. 
 
 " Now, Jerry," cried the viscount when they were gone, " you go 
 out into the park, and keep a good w atch in order that our friends may 
 neither run against my disobedient son Freddy, nor those drivelling 
 magistrates from Outrun. Go, Jerry, go, and use all your eyes !" 
 
 The devoted Jerry did go, and, as the reader knows, became a sacri- 
 fice to his obedience to his master's commands. 
 
 In the meantime the keepers and the important messenger bearing 
 the viscount's note hurried with all speed by the shortest ways towards 
 the house of Mr. Longshanks. A comfortable sandpit was soon found, 
 in which the posse ensconced itself, while the valiant Timothy ran rather 
 than walked till he reached the gate of Mr. Longshanks' house. 
 
 " Here, master," he said to the servant who answered his summons, 
 " you are to give that to Miss Longmore, and tell her I wait for an 
 answer." 
 
 The man took it in, and Laura came out the next moment, with 
 some doubts and apprehensions, it is true, but still too much alarmed 
 by the account of her father's illness to give her judgment fair play. 
 
 " Who sent you with this note ?" she demanded on seeing the man. 
 
 This question might have been what is called a poser to some people ; 
 but Timothy was as cunning as Isaac, and he at once replied — 
 
 " It was Mrs. Muggins, ma'am, the landlady of the Half Moon. I 
 don't know what it is about, but she seemed in a vast hurry." 
 
 This reply succeeded in deceiving Laura ; and running to get a cloak, 
 which she borrowed from Mr. Longshanks' housekeeper, she came back 
 in a minute, and told the man to lead the way as fast as possible. He 
 took her instantly at her word, and they had not been gone from the 
 door ten minutes when the Chevalier de Lunatico, as we have before 
 related, came to inquire after his fair young friend. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUTRENDO. 365 
 
 CHAPTER LXL 
 
 THR BOTS OF OUTRUN DISPLAY THE PECULIABITIES OF BOYS IN OTHER PLACES 
 
 MB. LONGSHANKS DISCOURSES UPON DEVIL'S DROPS MR. PUDDENSTREAM SHOWS 
 
 HIS AVERSION FOR TRUTH THE SADDLE IS PUT UPON THE RIGHT HORSE. 
 
 *' Hurra, hurra, hurra !" cried all the boys of Outrun, as their 
 friend Joey Pike was marched in between two constables, and their 
 other friend, Thomas Smalldram, Esq. came in between two others. 
 " Hurra, hurra, hurra !" and never were a set of boys happier or 
 more delighted at any event than the youth of Outrun, or as we should 
 call them now-a-days, *' young Outrun," were with the spectacle before 
 them. 
 
 Now two things will immediately strike the reader with surprise — first, 
 that we have multiplied our constable by four ; secondly, that the boys 
 of Outrun should be so rejoiced at the captivity and danger of two 
 persons whom we have called their friends ; and friends certainly they 
 were, for Joey had always been an especial favourite since he had 
 played in those streets himself, and Mr. Smalldram had also gained 
 wonderfully upon the affection of the juveniles by teaching them 
 excellent methods of pitch-and-toss, the mysteries of nine holes, the 
 classical game of mutton bones, and various tiny sorts of gambling, in 
 which lie cheated them from time to time out of a few halfpence 
 without ever letting them perceive it. The explanation of the first 
 curious point, namely, the magical multiplication of constables, we shall 
 reserve for an after period. The theory of the boys' laughter we 
 should scarcely ourselves venture to touch upon, but as Mr. Long- 
 shanks was of a bolder character, he did so at once with very little 
 ceremony. As soon as the first hurra was heard, he went at once to 
 the window to see what it was about, and on perceiving the facts, he 
 drew in his head, saying to the chevalier — 
 
 " Look there, my dear sir ! See how the imps are rejoicing, yet I 
 have seen Joey Pike there patting the heads of those little ragamuffins 
 as kindly as possible." 
 
 " The young people of Outrun must be of a peculiarly wicked and 
 depraved race, then, I suppose," said the chevalier. 
 
 " Not at all, chevalier, not at all," cried Mr. Longshanks. " There 
 you behold one curious but invariable point in that damned thing, 
 human nature. The devil, sir, the devil furnishes to every mother's 
 son of us, as soon as we are born, a certain portion of cruelty, which 
 is, in all ordinary cases, greater in the child than in the man, wearing 
 out by degrees as we go on through life and endure suffering in our 
 own persons. The exceptions, of course, confirm the general rule, and 
 you must not think that the example of him who burnt the flies in his 
 
366 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 mature years, or any of the Tiberian races, or even of Mr. Puddenstream 
 hero'" — and speaking aloud, he pointed him out with his finger — " though 
 they retained and even increased the stock of cruelty with which they set 
 out, is any refutation of my proposition, for we see it all through life ; 
 the infant begins by pulling a fly to pieces ; the boy torments tlie toad, 
 or the frog, or the mouse ; the youth indulges in catching fish upon a 
 hook, or breaking birds' arms and legs with shot, or slaughtering a 
 hare, or massacreing a family of foxes : and it is not till a man gets to 
 be fifty or sixty that he feels any thing like charity or compassion for 
 the creatures around him. This is the reason that when young men 
 have any thing to do with the government it is always bloody, cruel, 
 and barbarous. The devil's drop is not worn out of them, sir ; and if 
 you will examine the records of crime you will find that almost all 
 murders are committed between eighteen and thirty-five — earlier they 
 are too weak to do much mischief, afterwards they are too wise. But 
 you may see at all periods the devil's drop bubbling up in human nature, 
 and rejoicing at misery, and sorrow, and anguish. The younger the 
 more ferocious Just listen to the little savages, how they are re- 
 joicing over the sorrows of a fellow-creature !" 
 
 He had scarcely done speaking when in came the four constables 
 and the two prisoners, Mr Smalldram and his accompaniments going 
 first. 
 
 " Please your worship we've got un," said one of the officers, address- 
 ing Mr. Longshanks ; but immediately the voice of the other constable, 
 who had charge of Joey Pike, hallooed out, " You got un ? You didn't 
 get un, it was Joey Pike got un — didn't ye, Joey ? He got un out of 
 the middle of the heath pond, and he swears as how that he murdered 
 old Scap, and he can prove it. Then up came these three fellers and 
 said they had a warrant from your worship again him for the same 
 offence.*' 
 
 " They said true, they said true," said Mr. Longshanks, walking back 
 to the top of the table which he had quitted and seating himself solemnly 
 in the arm-chair. " Take away the punch, Mrs. Muggins, it is not fit 
 that we should be drinking punch and regaling ourselves while we are 
 inquiring into a matter which involves such awful considerations as the 
 murder of a fellow-creature, which has undoubtedly been committed, 
 and the death of a fellow-creature by the cruel punishment of strangu- 
 lation which is likely to be the result. 1 shall propose, gentlemen," he 
 continued, not attending to Mrs. Muggins, who pulled him delicately by 
 the coat tail — " l shall propose that before entering upon the re-exami- 
 nation of Joseph Pike we examine the other prisoner, Thomas Small- 
 dram. What is it, woman? I cannot speak to you now." 
 
 " Widow Scapulary, sir," said Mrs. Muggins, " is in the parlour, 
 and wants to speak to their worships." 
 
 '* Keep her there, keep her there, woman," said Mr. Longshanks, 
 
 "and don't pull my coat tails. The broadcloth is good, but it will tear. 
 
 Tell Mrs. Scapulary that we shall require her evidence. Where is the 
 
 clerk ? You drunken sot, what are you drinking the punch for r" 
 
 " Why, sir, I am vtry thirsty," rcpliel the clerk, setting down t! e 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. J67 
 
 bowl which he had seduced oirt of Mrs. Muggins's hands, " 1 ran up 
 in a great hurry." 
 
 " Well, then, sit down in a great hurry," said Mr. Longshanks, 
 " mend your pens, and take down the depositions." 
 
 " * Before the worshipful John Longshanks, Esq. and a full bench of 
 magistrates, in special session assembled,'" said the clerk, reading, " < sit- 
 ting j^ro tern, at the sign of the Half Moon in the parish of Outrun, and 
 county of God save the king !' Do I put down God save the king ?'* 
 
 " No, you fool !" said Mr. Longshanks, " only write down the 
 depositions; that is all you have to do. Stand forward, prisoner. 
 What is your name?" 
 
 " My name is " said Mr. Smalldrnm. 
 
 " Stop, prisoner, stop !" cried Mr. Puddenstream. " Remember you 
 are not bound to answer that there question, if you think that your 
 reply may criminate yourself." 
 
 Mr. Longshanks started up, and whirled round three times like a top 
 in a state of rotation. " The man will drive me mad !" he cried, 
 throwing down his cocked hat on the table, and putting his elbow into 
 the crown. " What is your name, I say ?" 
 
 <' My name is " said Mr. Smalldram once more ; but Mr. 
 
 Puddenstream again exclaimed — 
 
 " Remember it will be put down, and used against you at your trial." 
 
 " Good name in man or woman, good, my lord, is the immediate 
 jewel of the soul," said the voice of Joey Pike from behind in slow 
 and mellifluous accents. 
 
 " Put that fool out of the room I" cried Mr. Longshanks. " On my 
 life, the knaves in this world are bad enough, but the fools are intole- 
 rable ; and to have to do with fools when one is examining knaves is 
 worse than all. Will you be so good, Mr. Puddenstream, as to allow 
 the prisoner to answer a straightforward and merely formal question 
 without any farther interruption ?" 
 
 " Sir, I shall act as I have acted," replied Mr. Puddenstream, " on 
 my own sense of justice. I take it, every prisoner ought to be warned 
 not to say any thing that may criminate himself. Ay, sir, repeatedly. 
 I have always heard it done." 
 
 "By fools and country justices," replied Mr. liOngshanks. "It is 
 all very right, I dare say, that the prisoner should not be compelled to 
 say any thing to criminate himself: the law directs it, and the law is 
 right. It is also expedient, lest the prisoner should make a mistake in 
 the matter, that he should be once informed that the law does allow 
 him to refuse to reply ; but this having been done, the man is as great 
 a noodle who goes on re])eating the same thing, and instigating the pri- 
 soner to withhold information, as that man is a knave who induces him 
 by false hopes to make a confession. If the man chooses to tell the 
 truth, why should you stop him? What is it we want but truth? 
 What is the great basis of justice but truth ? What is the object of all 
 inquiries ? Truth ; and the man who stops us from coming at the truth has 
 but a sorry choice. He stands between roguery and folly, sir, and 
 is either a knave or an ass. So if you attempt to stop us any farther, 
 
368 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 sir, you may class yourself as you like. I don't envy your predica- 
 ment. Once more, prisoner, what is your name ?" 
 
 " My name ^' replied Mr. Smalldram. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Puddenstream, " if the prisoner is fully aware 
 that he is by no means obliged to answer the question unless he likes, 
 and he chooses to answer the question freely and voluntarily, I have 
 nothing to do with it." 
 
 But even Mr. Smalldram himself was tired of the constant interrup- 
 tion, as even the very lowest and most virulent democrats are tired and 
 disgusted when they see the business of a great country continually 
 interrupted by useless, idle, and absurd adjournments. 
 
 " My name," he cried, " is Thomas Smalldram. What's the use of 
 going humbugging about criminating myself all day ? That's all my 
 eye and Betty. I'm not ashamed of my name — Thomas Smalldram, 
 that's my name. Some people used to call me Short-hocked Tom tlie 
 tinman, and others. Warty Tom, on account of them here warts on tlie 
 side of my nose. But that's not the right thing — Thomas Smalldram, 
 that's my name." 
 
 " Thomas Smalldram, aliaSf Short-hocked Tom the tinman, aliaS) 
 Warty Tom," read the clerk. 
 
 " Hold your tongue, you fool," cried Mr. Longshanks ; " wlio told 
 you to speak ?" 
 
 " What is your profession ?" 
 
 " Tinman and rabbit seller," replied the prisoner, before he could be 
 interrupted. 
 
 " And your age ?" inquired Alderman Rotundity. 
 
 " Remember you are not bound to answer that question if you think 
 thereby you are likely to criminate yourself," exclaimed Mr. Pudden- 
 stream. 
 
 " My wife wouldn't answer it if she were here. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha I" 
 chuckled Mr. Deputy Popeseye. 
 
 " Be serious, sir, be serious," said Mr. Longshanks, " you are not 
 eating venison or gloating over turtle now. Such cachinnations may 
 very well befit the civic hall while men are pampering their own ungodly 
 bellies at an expense that would feed thousands that are passing in 
 starvation by the door ; but they are not good in matters of life and 
 death. Do you answer the question, prisoner." 
 
 " Somewhere upward of fifty," replied Mr. Smalldram — " I am not 
 partickler to a day, seeing I never insured my life, and therefore have 
 had no occasion for the register." 
 
 " Now, what is the evidence against this man ?" continued Mr. Long- 
 shanks. " Where's Nelly Bain ?" 
 
 " Nelly Bain, Nelly Bain," cried one of the constables, and in came 
 Nelly Bain with a somewhat scared look, as if she were not altogether 
 happy and at her ease under the circumstances in which she was 
 placed. 
 
 •' Now what have you got to say, Nelly ?" proceeded Mr. Longshanks. 
 " You examine her. Rotundity, will you ? I have a particular reason." 
 
 " What evidence have you to give in this case ?" asked Mr. Rotun- 
 
DE LUKATICO INQUlRENDO. 369 
 
 dity, in his usual clear and kindly tones, slightly enlivened with a happy 
 opinion of himself. " The principal facts, the principal facts, Mrs. Bain. 
 Do not dwell upon trifles — it is not necessary nugis adder e pondus!* 
 
 " Cod*s my Itfe ! this is as bad as the other," muttered Mr. Long- 
 shanks to himself. " She doesn't understand Latin, Rotundity. Greek — 
 Greek's her forte, man. Try her in Greek." 
 
 Mr. Rotundity blushed slightly, gave a shy glance at the chevalier, 
 and then went on to ask — " What do you know of this man, Mrs. Bain ?" 
 
 " Why, sir," replied Nelly Bain, " he has been hanging about my 
 cottage for a long time, coming up of a night and thrusting his hand 
 under the thatch ;" and she proceeded to give a detailed account of all 
 that had taken place at her cottage which, as the reader already knows 
 every thing about it, we shall not repeat in the exact words of the 
 excellent widow. 
 
 " I produce the spectacles and case," said Mr. Longshanks, laying 
 them on the table. " Call my groom — call Williamson." 
 
 " Mr. Williamson," shouted the constable, and the groom appeared 
 with a straw stuck between his two foreteeth. 
 
 " Stay — ^go away, Williamson, go away again," cried Mr. Longshanks. 
 " Prisoner, if you have any questions to ask Widow Bain you are at 
 liberty to do so." 
 
 " Can you swear that it was me, Widow Bain?" cried Smalldram, fixing 
 his eyes somewhat fiercely upon her. But the widow answered in a 
 decided though quiet manner — 
 
 " I can swear that it was you the two last times, for I saw you quite 
 well ; and though I did not see you so clearly the first, I can swear 
 it was the same man." 
 
 " You're a great liar," cried Smalldram, fiercely ; and he then mat- 
 tered between his teeth — " damn me, if I don't do for thee." 
 
 " Have you any other question to ask ?' said Mr. Rotundity. 
 
 " No ; she would only lie if I did," replied the man. 
 
 " Now then for Williamson," said Mr. Longshanks, and the groom 
 being once more called in confirmed fully the latter part of Mrs. Bain's 
 statement, showing how he and his master had seen Smalldram scramble 
 out of the ditch, and had afterwards discovered old Scapulary's spec- 
 tacles under the thatch. 
 
 Smalldram declined asking him any questions, and immediately after 
 Mr. Longshanks said, after pausing to give the man time — " There is 
 quite sufficient evidence I think to remand him for farther examination; 
 but yet it is only fair to let him know all that may be brought against 
 him. Therefore, before we ask him what he has to say we had better 
 examine the next witness as she is ready to be sworn. Call the next 
 witness." 
 
 One of the constables went out and called for the next witness, when 
 to the surprise of the magistrates, who had remarked that Mr. Long- 
 shanks used t he personal pronoun of the feminine gender, in walked a 
 personage in corduroy breeches and leather gaiters, who pulled a short 
 bunch of hair on the front of his forehead as he approached the end of 
 the table. 
 
 C. NO. XII. 2 b 
 
370 THE commissioner; OB, 
 
 " Who the devil are you ?'* said Mr. Longshanks, looking at him 
 through a pair of spectacles ? 
 
 " Why, I am Michael Growl, the milkman," said the gentleman who 
 had appeared, pulling the lock again as hard as before. " I heerd as 
 how you wanted witnesses, so I corned to say all I knoaws." 
 
 " And how much may that be ?" said Mr. Longshanks, sharply. 
 
 " Whoy a good deal," replied the man. " You see, I was at the 
 beginning o't." 
 
 " The deuce you were 1" said Mr. Longshanks ; " do you mean at 
 the murder ?" 
 
 " No, no," replied the man ; " but you see I warn't examined before 
 the crowner's 'quest, and that 'ere Mrs. Scapulary swore falsely ; for she 
 said as how that she came to buy milk at our house at half-past five, 
 and it were ten minutes arter six when she come. I'll tell you how I 
 knoaw " 
 
 " Not much matter, I should think," said Mr. Puddenstream, " whe- 
 ther it were a few minutes before, or a few minutes after." 
 
 "Ay, that may be," said the man ; "but it warn't true, nevertheless." 
 
 " Speak, speak," said Mr. Longshanks, impatiently. " Never mind 
 what that man says ; he's an ass. Tell us how you know Mrs. 
 Scapulary made a mistake ?" 
 
 " Whoy, you see," said the milkman, " I were a going down loike to 
 see what kept our Peggy so long in the meadow ; and just as I turned 
 the corner by the church, and see a heap of boys playing in the church- 
 yard — my boy were among 'em — who should bolt out of old Scapulary's 
 door, which were, as it might be, a hundred and fifty yards off, but this 
 here man, Smalldram, and he scuttles him across the road for all the 
 world like a turnspit-dog, and over the stile and away ; and I says to 
 myself, says I, * You bin arter no good, you varmint you !' and so then 
 I walked on down the lane, and presently I meets Joey Pike coming 
 
 up in a vast hurrj^ " 
 
 " From, or towards old Scapulary's house ?" asked Mr. Longshanks, 
 as quick as a percussion-gun. 
 
 " Towards, to be sure," replied the milkman. " I were past the 
 house by that time, and the pond too ; and presently arter — it might 
 be three or four hundred steps down the lane — I found our Peg^, 
 with the huntsmen all a bothering on her, one asking her for some milk, 
 and another for a kiss, and all that sort o' thing ; so I took her by the 
 arm, and I says, ' Come along, Peg,' says I, < we've had quite enough 
 of that in the village' — I was thinking of poor Betsy Trollop, I was — 
 and I turned back with her ; and just as we were coming near old 
 Scapulary's house, out bolted Joey Pike, and I thought to myself, 
 * What can make him run so?' and then Peggy told me that she thought 
 there had been a duel down farther in the lane, for she see'd six gentlemen 
 all of a heap together, and one had a pistol in his hand, and one was 
 a lying on his back, and Joey Pike was one of the party, and Master 
 Tripe, who is a very good friend of mine, was another. So all I 
 thought was, what fools they must be to go a fighting on a fine morn- 
 ing, when it's much pleasanter to take a walk ; and I then looked up 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 371 
 
 at the clock, and I see that it was just five minutes after six, and I put 
 my watch right by it ; and when I got to the corner of the street, I 
 see*d Mrs. Scapulary walking on toward our house, a good bit afore us, 
 not walking fast, but daised like, as if she had got a drop too much. 
 She was there when we got in, and, my eye ! how she did smell of 
 gin!" 
 
 " Then can you positively swear," said Mr. Longshanks, " that the 
 first person you saw who came out of old Scapulary's house was the 
 prisoner at the bar ?" 
 
 " 1 doan't see no bar," replied the man ; " but that was he — Tom 
 Smalldram there." 
 
 " And was there any one else in the road when you came back 
 again.'*" inquired Mr. Puddenstream. 
 
 " To be sure there were," answered the milkman. " There was 
 Jack the gardener ; and Joey almost knocked him down, he came out 
 \^dth such a bolt." 
 
 " Can you swear it was I you saw first ?" exclaimed the worthy tin- 
 man, whose face had changed some forty or fifty times, as he saw the 
 dim phantom of a rope, with a noose at the end of it, dangling unplea- 
 santly before his eyes at every word. " I can prove an alibi. Can 
 you swear it was I ?" 
 
 " That I can," said the milkman, sturdily. " Do ye think I doan*t 
 know ye, ye varmint? If we knew the rats as well, we should have 
 fewer on 'em. But, howsoradever, as I was a saying, Mother Scap 
 asked for some milk ; but she was so queer that we all said she was 
 drunk, and I sent Peg arter her to see she got safe hoame." 
 
 Mr. Smalldram thought, by this time, it would be better to reserve 
 his defence, so he asked no more questions ; and the examination of 
 the milkman being concluded, the girl Peggy was sent for, and not 
 only confirmed the milkman's account, but moreover declared that she 
 had seen Joey Pike go away from the spot where the duel had been 
 fought with Mr. Worrel and " that gentleman with the long nose," she 
 added, pointing to the Chevalier de Lunatico, who nodded to her in 
 return, with a complacent twinkle of the clear grey eye, for the girl 
 was rosy in chsek, pretty in feature, and delectable to look upon. 
 " He ran along the lane," she said, " after a bit very fast, but when she 
 came down from the high field in which she was, she lost sight of him, 
 and in a moment or two after met her master, and walked on along the 
 lane." 
 
 " How long might it be before you saw Joey Pike again ?" demanded 
 Mr. Puddenstream. 
 
 " Not more than three minutes, your worship," said the girl, bobbing 
 till her petticoats, which were short, swept the floor. 
 
 " And where was he then ?" asked the same magistrate. 
 
 " Coming out of Master Scapulary's, sir," said the girl, " and looking 
 very much frightened." 
 
 In the meanwhile, Mr. Longshanks had been looking over some 
 papers which had been brought to him while the examination waa 
 goiiig on, and now raising his head he inquired — 
 
3/2 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 " When you followed Mrs. Scapulary, did you see her speak to any 
 body till she got home ?" 
 
 " No, sir, not a living soul," said the girl, " for there was not a soul 
 in the street." 
 
 " And you saw her enter her own door ?" said Mr. Longshanks. 
 
 "Yes, sir, that I did," replied the girl; and thus ended her 
 examination. 
 
 " Now call in Mrs. Scapulary," said Mr. Longshanks ; and the face 
 of Smalldrara the tinman became like the face of Yamen, a russety 
 brown. 
 
 " Cuss those women," thought Mr. Smalldram, " there's no depending 
 on 'em. She's just as likely to make some blunder as not." 
 
 But what was his surprise when, on being led into the court. Widow 
 Scapulary looked at him with an unaffected shudder, and cried — 
 
 "Ah! the wretch!" 
 
 " Meaning me, ma'am ?" said Mr. Smalldram, with a significant look. 
 " You are a sweet creetur, and I should be sorry to do you a mischeef, 
 but you musn't call me a wretch, you know." 
 
 " But you are a wretch," said Mrs. Scapulary, "you are a wretch, 
 if, as I am afraid, you injured that poor dear old man." 
 
 " Ho, ho !" said Mr. Smalldram, " if that's the go, I understand the 
 lay. I thought it was all Joey Pike's doing ; but now " 
 
 " Silence, sir !" cried Mr. Longshanks. " You shall have an oppor- 
 tunity of asking the witness any questions afterwards. Swear her, 
 clerk. Now, madam, what do you know of this man ?" 
 
 It was an awkward question, for assuredly Mrs. Scapulary knew 
 more of him than she liked to tell ; but she had now made up her 
 mind, and, as we have said before, Mrs. Scapulary was a very cunning 
 woman. She was as shrewd as the edge of a razor ; and in the present 
 instance she went to work as carefully and cautiously as it is possible 
 to conceive. She brought all the hints that she had lately been giving in 
 regard to Mr. Smalldram to bear upon the present question, and those 
 had not been a few, for, as we have seen, she had contemplated within 
 five minutes from the time that poor Mr. Scapulary parted with the 
 breath of life, upon making her worthy friend and coadjutor Smalldram 
 part with his by the same process, but in rather a more public manner. 
 The fright which Mademoiselle Brochet put her into upon more than 
 one occasion had increased her activity in this respect, and she had 
 insinuated to many people, as well as sworn before the coroner, that 
 she had seen Mr. Smalldram and spoken with him near the house on 
 the morning of the murder. She now proceeded to give exactly the 
 same account, swearing most virulently that she had gone out for milk 
 at five o'clock in the morning — that she was back by half-past five — 
 that she had seen Mr. Smalldram hanging about the door when she 
 went out, and that she found her husband dead when she returned. 
 A lie with a circumstance always being the fashion with liars of an 
 inferior quality, Mrs. Scapulary added before the magistrates the same 
 lie that she had told Joey Pike in the character of Mademoiselle 
 Brochet, namely, that she had heard the clock strike half- past five 
 
DE liUNATICO INQUIEENDO 373 
 
 when she was at the corner of the road opposite to the church. The 
 magistrates looked at each other, and consulted for a few minutes ; 
 every one of them, except Mr. Puddenstream, having remarked the 
 evidence of the milkman and his maid, which completely contradicted 
 that of Mrs. Scapulary. At the same time, Harry Worrel went round 
 and whispered to Mr. Longshanks and Mr. Rotundity — " This woman's 
 evidence would go completely to exculpate Joey Pike, for both the 
 chevalier and I can swear that he never left us from half-past four till 
 six o'clock." 
 
 " We will examine you both presently, Harry," said Mr. Longshanks 
 " Sit down, there's a good boy. Sometimes a fool's act, such as your 
 idiotical duel, is rendered, by the good providence of God, beneficial 
 to society." 
 
 Mrs. Scapulary perceived that something was the matter, and she 
 became slightly agitated. She therefore determined at once to bring 
 forward her last grand stroke at Mr. Smalldram, and she said — 
 
 " It's a wery shockin' thing to accuse any gentleman of strangling 
 another, and I don't mean to say that he did it, but he got some of the 
 money, that's very clear, for the day before yesterday the landlord of 
 the Black Swan showed me a fi'-pund note which he had of Master 
 Smalldram there, and in the corner, just where my poor dear departed 
 husband," and she wept a little, " used to mark his notes, was written 
 T. S., Toby Scapulary. Sometimes he used to mark 'em so, sometimes 
 Tob. Scap." 
 
 " You Blazer," cried Mr. Smalldrum, " ain't you a nice un ? Damn 
 me, if I don't blow ye. Don't yer worships see that the woman's a 
 lying ? Didn't ye hear what Growl the milkman said ? and the truth 
 of the matter is " 
 
 " Ah, I knew how it would be," cried Mrs. Scapulary ; " I was sure 
 the moment I said any thing about it, he would accuse me." 
 
 " He has not accused you yet, woman," said Mr. Longshanks ; " but 
 now is the moment for me to warn you that you need not say any 
 thing which may criminate yourself." 
 
 " Oh I am not afraid," said Mrs. Scapulary, looking as brazen as 
 the sign of the Golden Lion. " He can't say nothing as I'm afraid on." 
 
 " Can't I ?" said Mr. Smalldram : " then I do say she murdered the 
 old man herself; and if I'm admitted as king's evidence I'll tell all 
 about it. It was she planned it all, and did it, though I don't deny I 
 might have some of the mOney. Will your worships allow me to turn 
 stag — that is, to be king's evidence ?" 
 
 " I can't promise that," replied Mr. Longshanks ; " that must depend 
 upon the law officers of the crown. Sufficient has been said for our 
 purpose, however, I think. Constable, take Mrs. Scapulary into cus- 
 tody. Clerk, fill up a warrant. Is there any other evidence in this 
 case ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," said a small voice ; " I saw all about it." 
 
 " Come up then, boy, come up," cried Mr. Longshanks, " don't 
 stand there fiddling with the button of your breeches. Do you know 
 what an oath is, boy ?" 
 
374 THE commissioner; ok, 
 
 The boy gave a very satisfactory account of his notions on the 
 subject, and Mr. Longshanks pronounced the authoritative " Swear 
 him !" which being done, the boy declared that on the morning of the 
 murder of Mr. Scapulary, he was seated astride of the wall of the 
 churchyard, while his brother was in a horse-chesnut tree, and their 
 school-fellows were playing at marbles. At a quarter before six, he 
 said, he saw Mr. Smalldram bolt out of the house, run through the 
 churchyard stile, quit the path, and jump over the other corner of the 
 wall. Just after six o'clock had struck, he said, he saw Mrs. Sca- 
 pulary come out, look round about her as if she were in a fluster, and 
 go round the corner into the High-street. Scarcely was she out of 
 sight when he saw Joey Pike come running up the lane from the side 
 of Outrun Castle. He stopped at the door of Mr. Scapulary, knocked, 
 opened the door, and went in. He did not stay a minute, however, 
 said the boy, but came out again directly, looking very much fright- 
 ened, and ran off as hard as he could go. 
 
 " Precisely the story that poor Joey told of himself," said Mr. Long- 
 more, " and which was confirmed by my young friend Worrel, and my 
 excellent friend the chevalier. The stories tally as exactly and fit 
 into each other as nicely as if they had been turned by Holzapfel. 
 Pray, young gentleman, let us know how you ascertained the time so 
 exactly. Had you a sextant with you ? Could you get an observa- 
 tion of the sun ?" 
 
 *' I don't understand," said the boy. 
 
 " How did you know what o'clock it was ?'* said Mr. Longshanks. 
 
 " By the clock, to be sure," replied the boy ; " there was the big 
 clock as strikes the quarters and half hours just up above me." 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Scapulary, and you Thomas Smalldram, if you have 
 any questions to ask the witness you may ask them," said Mr. 
 Longshanks. 
 
 "I've nothing to ask him," said Mr. Smalldram; " it*s all true enough 
 T dare say." 
 
 " When did you say I came out of the house, little wretch ?" cried 
 Mrs. Scapulary. 
 
 " Two or three minutes arter him," replied the boy, pointing to 
 Smalldram, and down fell the widow in a fainting fit, for she bad never 
 calculated there was any other eye on her movements but the eye of 
 God ; and when we commit evil actions we surely forget that there 
 is even that eye upon us which none can ever evade, while Almighty 
 pimishment stands ready with an uplifted sword to smite us in the 
 act. 
 
 The widow was soon brought to herself, however, and being asked 
 if she was inclined to make any statement herself, she only gasped in 
 the magistrates' faces for a moment, but said nothing. When the same 
 question was put to Smalldram, he replied doggedly, " I am ready to 
 tell all I know if I've a promise of pardon ; if not, I'll die game." 
 
 " They are both committed," said Mr. Longshanks. " You are all 
 of the same opinion, gentlemen, of course." 
 
 There was but one dissentient voice, that of Mr. Puddenstream, 
 
DB LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 375 
 
 who thought they ought to be remanded, but he was overruled, the 
 warrant of committal signed, and the prisoners removed. 
 
 " Now," said Mr. Longshanks, " nothing remains but to discharge 
 the warrant which has been issued against poor Joey Pike." 
 
 " To be sure, to be sure, to be sure," cried all the other magistrates 
 except the one who was fond of solitude in his opinions, who muttered 
 something to himself, making a sort of protest to the inkstand, at which 
 he was looking at the moment ; and accordingly the warrant against 
 Joey was discharged, and the constables told to set him free. 
 
 " Now," said Mr. Longshanks, rising, " I think, gentlemen, you will 
 own that justice, propriety, and common sense required us to proceed 
 with this business without farther delay, and before you set out upon 
 any expeditions against Outrun Castle ; and having now concluded 
 what is really important, I shall wish you good evening, and leave you 
 all to play the fool as much as ever you think fit." 
 
 CHAPTER LXII. 
 
 MB. FITZUR8E FINDS HIMSELF IN DANQEB THE ORRAT DARIUS EXPLAINS HIS NO- 
 TIONS OASTBONOMIC TOM HAMILTON ACTS PABANTMPH HIS GALLOPING MEDI- 
 TATIONS HE DOES BATTLE AGAINST ODDS A FBIBND IN NEED SOME ACCOUNT 
 
 OF MB. BMALLDBAM PREVIOUS TO HIS CAPTURE. 
 
 "On my life, I dare as soon carry it .home as sit upon a bomb-shell 
 with the fuze lighted." 
 
 Such were the words of Mr. Fitzurse as he rode away from the door 
 of Dr. Hookham with the marriage licence in his pocket, and Tom 
 Hamilton and Mr. Darius on either hand. 
 
 " It can't be done, Tom, it can't be done ; either he or that d — d 
 fellow Jerry Tripe would smell it out as a terrier dog does a rat, 
 and I should have them flying at my pocket in five minutes." 
 
 " Well then, Fitzurse," replied Tom, " we had better take a gallop 
 across the country, dine at an inn, and make a night of it. Let us go 
 over to Whitebottom, there's some capital fishing up there. You can 
 come back to the church to be married to-morrow you know." 
 
 " Ay, but how's she to know that she's to come ?" said Mr. Fitzurse, 
 looking at Mr. Darius, as if he wished uncommonly to get rid of him. 
 " Could not our friend here go back and tell her ?'* 
 
 " Why no, I should think not," replied Tom Hamilton — " not 
 \vithi>ut you, considering you first brought him to Outrun Castle; 
 that would be contrary to decorum you know." 
 
376 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 '* Ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha!" roared Mr. Fitzurse; "decorum, and 
 Outrun Castle ! Why there has never been such a thing in it since 
 I was born." 
 
 " Probably not," said Tom Hamilton drily ; " but I'll tell you what, 
 Fitzurse, I'll go back to the castle, see Jane, tell her all about it, get 
 my fishing tackle, and join you at the little inn at Whitebottom in a 
 couple of hours." 
 
 " Don't be long, Tom," said Mr. Fitzurse, casting a doubtful glance 
 at Mr. Darius, and then adding in a whisper to his friend — " Tell him 
 to be civil, Tom ! Damn it, you know, there's no saying when such a 
 fellow may quarrel with one." 
 
 « Oh, don't be afraid, don't be afraid," said Tom Hamilton, pulling 
 up his horse ; " I'll speak to him, and, besides, he'll never quarrel with 
 his cousin you know. Here, Darius, just speak to me for a moment. 
 Go on, Fitzurse, we'll come after you in a minute. Go with him, my 
 good friend,'* he continued, addressing Mr. Darius, as soon as the 
 peer's son was a little in advance — " go with him, keep him in a ter- 
 rible fright, but don't lose sight of him on any account, or he'll 
 bolt." 
 
 " No, no, trust me," replied Mr. Darius, and on he rode after the 
 worthy scion of the house of Outrun, whom he overtook just as a 
 little boy, with a fair face and curly hair crossed the roadj trudging 
 away to school. 
 
 " A nice boy that, sir," said Mr. Darius, looking at the lad tenderly. 
 " I should like such a boy as that very much.'* 
 
 " Heave you no children of your own ?" said Mr. Fitzurse. 
 
 " None, sir, none," replied Mr. Darius ; " I adopted one when I was 
 in New Zealand." 
 
 " And what deed you do with him," said Mr. Fitzurse, " when you 
 came away ?" 
 
 " Oh, sir, we ate him, we ate him," said Mr. Darius calmly : " the 
 chiefs and I had a great feast, a sort of farewell dinner ; and as there 
 was no fresh meat you know, I thought I'd give them a treat. He 
 was as nice a boy as ever I ate in my life. I've got his head now in 
 pickle — a sort of tender memorial of him. I look at it very often — 
 but Fm afraid it's too salt to be good eating now. A very nice- 
 looking boy indeed," he continued, standing up in his stirrups, and 
 looking after the child. " Now do you think people in this country 
 would fancy there was any wrong in it if one were to take a griskin 
 out of a boy like that ?" 
 
 " Oh, sir, for heaven's sake," cried Mr. Fitzurse, " don't mention 
 such a thing !" 
 
 " You can't think how nice it is," said Mr. Darius, lowering his 
 voice to an aguish sort of a whisper, and putting his mouth close to 
 Mr. Fitzurse's ear. " Man's not bad when he's young, but child is 
 delicious ! You never ate a child, did you ?" 
 
 " No," cried Mr. Fitzurse, in a lamentable Avhine, " I never ate man, 
 woman, or child either. I do not like such things." 
 
 " You can't tell, you can't tell," cried Mr. Darius, with a knowing 
 
z 
 
 '-<^yu/f/'' 
 
 / / 
 
 
 ^i/^J. 
 
DE LUNATICb INQUIRENDO. oil 
 
 wink. "You shall taste a bit of man at my house some day, aiid then 
 see how you like it." 
 
 " Why you'll be hanged you know," said Mr. Fitzurse. 
 
 " Oh, not I," said Mr. Darius, " I manage those things quite com- 
 fortably. A steak out of a condemned felon isn't a bad thing ; it has 
 a game taste you know ; but then one can always get a young fool to 
 quarrel with one. Shoot him in a duel, and trust to the resurrection 
 men for the rest." 
 
 " Neither more nor less than kill him and eat him," said Mr. 
 Fitzurse. 
 
 " There is no law against eating him," said Mr. Darius. " If I 
 kill him in an honourable way, nobody can stop me eating him after- 
 wards ; besides, I should think most men would rather like it than 
 otherwise ; if we don't eat our friends, the worms will ; and, as the 
 great poet has said — 
 
 • Fill up, thou canst not injure me. 
 The worm hath fouler lips than thine.* 
 
 No, if we have been of no use during our lives, it is philosophical and 
 beautiful to render ourselves useful after death, and to feed the hungry 
 by a posthumous act of benevolence. As you are going to marry my 
 dear cousin, I shall leave you my corpse by will,^ and I insist upon 
 your having a large party, and giving them a haunch and a bottle of 
 claret." 
 
 Mr. Fitzurse shuddered at the thought, and in such pleasant con- 
 versation they passed on their way till they reached the little inn which 
 Mr. Hamilton had designated. In the meanwhile that gentleman 
 himself rode back to Outrun Castle, and arrived a few minutes before 
 the immersion of the magistrates. All the men servants were in full 
 occupation in making preparations for the great event which the 
 viscount contemplated, but Jane was soon found by the mediation of 
 her confidant, Sally; and Tom Hamilton explained to her the pleasing 
 arrangements which had been entered into for transforming her from 
 Jane Markem to the Honourable Mrs. Fitzurse. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Hamilton," she cried, " how kind you have been !" 
 
 "Why I promised you, my good girl," said Mr. Hamilton, " that if 
 you would not drown yourself, I would do the best I could for you ; 
 but there is one thing I have to tell you, Jane, you'll have to pay ten 
 pounds to a person who has had a hand in this affair — I would pay him 
 myself, but 'pon my life and soul, I can't afford it." 
 
 "Oh, I'll pay it, sir, I'll pay it," cried Jane ; "I've got forty pounds 
 in the savings' bank, and the viscount owes me twenty more." 
 
 " Invest that in a mortgage on the moon," said Tom Hamilton, "and 
 you'll get your interest when the dog-days fall in December. — However 
 you'll soon be his daughter-in-law; so be at the church-door at the 
 hour I've mentioned ; there's a good girl, and bring a bridesmaid with 
 you, and I'll be your father for the occasion." 
 
 " Lor, Mr. Hamilton," said Jane, with a very pretty arch look 5 
 " they'll never take you for my father !" 
 
378 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 " Well, my dear, I shall do as well as another," replied Mr. Hamil- 
 ton ; " and now I must be off. — But what's the viscount about ?" 
 
 " La, I can't tell you, sir," replied Jane ; " I think he's mad, for he*s 
 gone up to the top of the house, and taken the two coachmen with him, 
 dressed out in their cocked hats and all, as if he were going to drive 
 four-in-hand round the leads." 
 
 " I think we must send the chevalier to him," said Tom Hamilton ; 
 " so now good-bye, Jane, and mind, when you are Lady Outrun I shall 
 expect you to ask me down every year, for there's devilish good fishing 
 and shooting in the season." 
 
 " That I will, Mr. Hamilton," said Jane heartily, " for if it had not 
 been for your fishing, I should have -been in the grave ;" and Jane, 
 who, upon the whole, was not a bad girl, as upper housemaids go, 
 began to do what is technically called " pipe her eye," whereupon Tom 
 Hamilton, not being fond of tender scenes in general, beat his retreat, 
 mounted his horse, and galloped away. 
 
 The musings of Tom Hamilton were of a somewhat mixed and 
 curious nature. He thought to himself, primo^ that Outrun Castle was 
 rather a rascally sort of place, and a certain feeling of shame at a 
 good many of the goings on in which he had taken part, came over him. 
 But then again he thought, secundo^ of the shooting and fishing, and 
 he ended, with a sigh, observing to himself — " I don't know, better any 
 where." 
 
 Did you ever remark, reader, that in any combat with pleasant sin, 
 even when virtue gets the upper hand, like all other really great con- 
 querors, she sighs over her victory ; but, in the present instance, virtue 
 had not altogether gained the victory, for although Tom Hamilton 
 acknowledged that Outrun Castle, its scenes, and its inhabitants, were 
 not at all beneficial in their effects upon his morality, he had not got 
 to the pitch of resolving not to go near it again. 
 
 Well, reader — though you may think that we have made an unneces- 
 sary pause, for what have you to do with Tom Hamilton's morality, or 
 Tom's morality to do with you ? — yet we had an object in it, as there is 
 nothing without an object in this wonderful book, and that object was both 
 to let your mind rest a little after all its galloping hither and thither in 
 order that it may be fully refreshed and prepared for the most mar- 
 vellous and extraordinary scene in the whole book, and also, that 
 comprehending something of Tom Hamilton's character, and especially 
 of his meditations as he went along, you may not be taken by surprise 
 at the part which Tom himself was about to play. Had we merely 
 said that he galloped along as hard as he could go — took his horse 
 over the park wall instead of through the gate, and with a floating 
 rein scampered over the common, you would have beheld in him nothing 
 but the wild, reckless, dashing fellow, who seemed to care for little else 
 so long as he got good fishing and shooting. Nevertheless those same 
 indifferent careless fellows sometimes have laid up in a quiet corner of 
 the heart, better things than they suffer to appenr, leaving them there 
 from simple idleness, till they get dusty, and almost forgotten, even by 
 the owners. 
 
(9?7Zy 
 
 yU2.'9A 
 
 '/U//r 
 
 '^'.4-^^£y 
 
DB LUNATICO INQUIREITDO. 379 
 
 Well, while the magistrates, as we have before described, were 
 risiting Outrun Castle, and undergoing immersion in the fire-tank, 
 Tom galloped along, meditating quite as comfortably upon his 
 horse's back as he flew along beating the sounding turf, as if he 
 had been sitting in an arm-chair ; and he did not awake from his reverie 
 till passing close by the top of a sand-pit he suddenly heard a woman's 
 voice crying for help. Such a sound instantly opened all the avenues 
 to Tom's heart, and the good feelings which he had cooped up like 
 caged rabbits, put out their noses, ready to take advantage of the 
 opportunity. There was one of the hawthorn trees that we have 
 spoken of close by, and to the ground sprang Tom Hamilton, casting 
 his rein over a branch of the tree, and hurrying down the bank as if a 
 certain personage famed for looking after careless fellows and being 
 busy in gales of wind was behind him. When he got to the bottom of 
 the bank, the sight that he saw made his heart beat, and an uncom- 
 monly hot sensation take place about his liver. 
 
 Some four or five men were seen behaving in a very uncourteous 
 manner to a young lady, whom they had got in their clutches, one 
 having got hold of her by each arm, and another being in the act of 
 pushing her on by the shoulders, while she wept, and resisted, and 
 called for help in a very piteous manner. In the persons of the men 
 whom he beheld, Tom instantly recognised certain gamekeepers and 
 lookers-out with whom he was somewhat familiar. The young lady 
 he was not so well acquainted with, but he saw in a moment that she 
 was as pretty a creature as the eyes of man can light upon, and, more- 
 over, that there was some degree of resemblance between her, both in 
 features and apparel, and a certain ghost whom he had once had the 
 honour of meeting in the picture-gallery of Outrun Castle. However, 
 we must do justice to Tom's chivalry, whether she had been pretty or 
 not, whether he had known or not known who she was — and it must be 
 acknowledged that he shrewdly suspected her to be no other than fair 
 Laura Longmore — he would have acted exactly in the same manner as 
 we are about to describe. 
 
 Without waiting one single moment for consideration, he jumped 
 down the last yard or two of the bank, as soon as he saw what was 
 going on, and walking up to the head gamekeeper of Viscount Outrun, 
 without entering into any tiresome explanations, or putting any unne- 
 cessary questions, he planted a blow with the clenched fist of his right 
 hand exactly between the gentleman's two eyes, which in an instant 
 produced the effect of making him quit his hold of fair Laura Long- 
 more, and also caused him to take up suddenly an uneasy position with 
 his back upon the road and his feet and legs kicking up in the air at 
 an angle of forty-five. 
 
 " You damned rascal, what are you about ?" cried Tom Hamilton, 
 turning upon the other gamekeeper, and aiming a blow at him likewise, 
 >vhich would have had a similar effect upon his conglomeration of 
 atoms, as Mr. Longmore would have termed it, had he not parried the 
 stroke, which he did with some skill and dexterity. In so doing, how- 
 ever, he also loosed his hold of Laura, and knowing that she could be 
 -f no possible assistance to her deliverer, our pretty little friend would 
 
380 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 instantly have taken to her heels and run, had there not been unfor- 
 nately three other men who cut off her retreat. 
 
 " Holloa, Mr. Hamilton, what the devil are you up to ?" cried the 
 gamekeeper, whom we may term the substantive, as he continued to 
 stand by himself, notwithstanding Mr. Hamilton's strenuous effort to 
 knock him down ; " we've my lord's orders for what we do." 
 
 " 1 am up to giving you a hearty good thrashing, my friend," replied 
 Tom Hamilton, with his blood really and truly boiling, " if you don't 
 take yourself off in a minute. You are libelling I^ord Outrun: he 
 never told you to treat a lady ill, I'm sure." 
 
 " He told us to bring her to the castle, anyhow," replied the man, 
 " and we'll do it, by " 
 
 " Let me get at him, let me get at him," cried the other gamekeeper, 
 rising from the ground, and rushing at Laura's deliverer with all the 
 fury of his fall fresh upon him. 
 
 But we have hinted already that Thomas Hamilton, Esq. was skilful 
 of fence and all other manly exercises, and before the gamekeeper could 
 touch him, he had made his fist intimately acquainted with the man's 
 right eye, causing him to perform exactly the same gambol on the 
 ground which he had previously executed. 
 
 "On my life and soul, this is too bad," cried the other gamekeeper ; 
 "we shall be obliged to lick ye, Mr. Hamilton." 
 
 " Lick me ?" cried Tom Hamilton, making a feint at the man's nose 
 with his right hand, and almost at the same moment striking him a 
 blow on the jaw with the left, which sent him reeling amongst his com- 
 panions ; " you have mistaken your man, you scoundrels — keep behind 
 me, young lady, and they shall not touch you ; — stand off, or by heaven, 
 I'll give the first one that comes near something that sha'n't quit him 
 till his dying day." 
 
 " Make a rush upon him — make a rush upon him !" cried one of the 
 gamekeepers. " Stand round, and make a rush upon him." 
 
 This proposal was likely to be executed with fatal effect, the ring 
 being formed, and Laura and her defender completely encircled ; when 
 in amongst the gamekeepers and their aiders and abettors darted a 
 wild-looking man from the road, with a stick in his hand, laying about 
 him right and left, and laughing loudly as he knocked one of the 
 lookers-out down, and broke the shins of the second gamekeeper, who 
 instantly began hopping on one leg in convulsions of pain. 
 
 "Ha, ha, you devils!" he cried, "you're at year old work; but I'll 
 soon settle you," and he whirled the tremendous truncheon that he 
 carried round and round, driving the affrighted keepers before him. 
 
 " It's Trollop, the madman — it's Trollop, the iicadman !" cried one. 
 
 " Keep out of his way," shouted another ; " hell knock your brains 
 out — he's as strong as an elephant." 
 
 " Run, hang it ! run," cried another ; " he'll play the devil with 
 ye — he broke Harry Smith's leg !" and away thej' scampered before the 
 madman, taking the way not towards Outrun Ciistle, but towards the 
 house of Mr. Longshanks, with a view of cuttini^ off Laura's retreat, 
 and gathering together at the distance of two ov three hundred yards 
 when they saw that they were not pursued. 
 
DE LITNATICO INQUIRENDO. 381 
 
 Laura and her companion, however, were nearly as much embar- 
 rassed by the presence of their new-found friend as the gamekeepers had 
 been : for the young lady had enjoyed fully as much of his society as she 
 liked upon a former occasion ; and Tom Hamilton, though as bold as 
 a lion with all ordinary mortals, had that sort of apprehension and 
 dislike to dealing with madmen which is experienced by many very 
 courageous persons. 
 
 " Ah, you pretty creature !" cried the man, coming up to her, and 
 gazing into her face with a curious, inquisitive sort of expression, " so 
 you are as false and fickle as all the rest of them ; and you ran away 
 from me when I went to get you some water-cresses : that was very 
 wicked of you.'* 
 
 " I wished to get back to my father as fast as I could," replied 
 Laura, timidly ; " I knew he must be dreadfully anxious about me." 
 
 " To get back to your father !" said the man. Ay, that was right — that 
 was right ; all girls should go back to their father, for fathers always go 
 mad when they don't ; I went mad when my Lizzy went away, but I am 
 quite right now — quite right now ; the people took my brains out in 
 the prison, and washed them, so I'm quite right now. But that's not 
 your father," he continued, glaring upon Tom Hamilton. 
 
 " No," said Tom Hamilton, in a very respectful tone ; " but I have 
 come to take the young lady to her father. If you are Miss Longmore, 
 madam," he continued, " I heard last night that your father was at 
 Rotundity Court, not many miles distant, and the best thing for you 
 will be to go there at once." 
 
 " You have behaved so kindly, sir,** said Laura, in a timid tone, 
 " that I think I may trust you." 
 
 " No, no, no, no !" cried the madman. " Don't trust him — don't 
 trust any man ; no woman should ever trust a man, or any man a 
 woman ; they were made by God to cheat one another. Ha, ha, ha ! 
 but I've a plan for it : trust to two men — that isn't trusting a man, you 
 know — trust to two men, and one will prevent the other from hurting you." 
 
 " 'Pon my life, that's not a bad plan," said Tom Hamilton. 
 
 " No, is it ?" cried the madman, with a look of strange conceited 
 satisfaction. " Oh, I'm cunning — devilish cunning ! they say I'm mad, 
 but I'm as cunning as a she-cat whose kittens have once been drowned. 
 Come, let us sit down, and we'll tell stories." 
 
 " Oh, no," cried Laura ; " you said yourself that I ought to go to 
 my father." 
 
 " So I did — so I did," cried the madman ; " and you shall go to 
 him too. We'll take you. Then, if he doesn't lead you right, I'll 
 knock his brains out." 
 
 Tom Hamilton did not particularly like the prospective punishment 
 to which the worthy madman threatened to subject him, and he conse- 
 quently determined to keep a watchful eye upon all his proceedings, in 
 order to defend himself to the best of his ability if he should be 
 attacked. 
 
 " I must get you into a chaise," he said to Laura in a low voice, " at 
 the first inn we come to, and then, when you are safe on your way, I 
 
382 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 can deal with this poor fellow more easily. We had better come across 
 here, I think," he continued aloud ; " don't you think so, my good 
 friend ?" 
 
 "Any way — any way,'* replied the madman: "it all leads to the 
 same end — death, death, death ! that's the end of all things — that way 
 as well as another." 
 
 " Keep a watch upon those men," continued Tom Hamilton, very 
 willing to divert his companion's attention from himself; "they may 
 surround us as we pass over the moor ;" and giving his arm to Laura, 
 he led her on, while the poor maniac replied — 
 
 " I'll watch them — I'll watch them : night or day it's the same to 
 me, for I can see as well in the night as the day. Go on ; they sha'n't 
 come near you." 
 
 Tom Hamilton did go on, taking his way across the often-mentioned 
 moor, and turning his eye from time to time upon the gamekeepers, 
 who very soon began a series of manoeuvres for intercepting Laura and 
 her party, and taking them at a disadvantage. They appeared indeed 
 now to have recovered some portion of courage — a virtue which had 
 strangely disappeared upon the first attack of the madman ; and as 
 Tom bent his steps in the first instance towards the village of Outrun, 
 they formed upon some broken ground through which the road ran, 
 ready to rush in upon their opponents as they passed. 
 
 Cut off from his line of advance, Tom Hamilton next turned his 
 thoughts towards the house of Mr. Longshanks, which he knew well ; 
 but having the eye of a tactician, he perceived that the enemy had taken 
 up such a position that by a flank movement they could cut him off 
 there also. Nothing remained, then, but to make for the solitary cot- 
 tage of Nelly Bain, and passing through her house, or by her garden, 
 to descend into the village of which Mr. Longshanks was the pride, by 
 the other end. The cottage he knew he could certainly reach before 
 their opponents could overtake them ; and he calculated, if they persisted 
 in their pursuit when they saw human habitations before them, which 
 was not likely, that he could stand a siege in Nelly Bain's cottage itself 
 till some one came to his relief. 
 
 Full of the greatness of their lord, however — for there are certain 
 people who retain old feudal notions sufficiently to fancy that a lord's 
 name, like the king's, is a tower of strength — the gamekeepers pursued 
 as fast as possible, with no other fear or hesitation than those which 
 the club of the madman and the fists of Tom Hamilton inspired. 
 Rapidly both parties neared the cottage, the pursuers gaining upon 
 the pursued, for Laura's steps were wavering with terror, anxiety, and 
 agitation, till at length our friend Tom perceived that he must absolutely 
 take up with Nelly's cottage as a citadel; and hurrying Laura through the 
 little garden, he opened the door and beckoned to the poor madman to 
 come in. Instead of doing so, however, the unhappy man, finding himself 
 hard pressed, turned and rushed upon those who followed. Two of 
 them were knocked down in a moment, one having his arm broken ; 
 but the other three threw themselves upon the madman, and after a 
 violent struggle overpowered him and tied his hands with a cravat. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 383 
 
 Tom Hamilton could not help leaving the prisoner in the hands of 
 the enemy unless he risked the safety of Laura ; and locking tight the 
 door of the house, he proceeded to the back entrance and secured it in 
 the same manner, calling aloud — " Goody — Mrs. what's your name — 
 Holloa, is there nobody here ?" but receiving no answer. 
 
 He then came back to the little lattice- window, and looked out to see 
 what the enemy were about ; but they were still busy with their pri- 
 soner and their wounded companion, and Tom turned to look at Laura, 
 who had sunk down exhausted in a chair. 
 
 Our fair friend, to say the truth, instantly felt a little awkward at 
 being shut up and locked into a cottage with nobody but a rather good- 
 looking, youngish man, with black whiskers and hair, and a somewhat 
 gaily cut coat ; and to say the truth, Tom Hamilton felt a little awk- 
 ward likewise. Every impulse of temperament, every suggestion of habit, 
 taught him to make love to his pretty companion without more ado. 
 But Tom was a gentleman by nature, and he felt that it would be un- 
 courteous to take any advantage whatsoever of a lady's unprotected 
 situation. Struggling against, then, and overcoming his first inclina- 
 tion, he said in a quiet respectful tone — 
 
 *' Make yourself quite easy. Miss Longmore, they cannot break in 
 here ; and as soon as they are gone, I will conduct you any where you 
 like, in whatsoever manner you may think best." 
 
 Laura expressed her thanks in a few quiet words, and Tom again 
 turned to the window, when to his surprise he beheld the whole party 
 of gamekeepers moving off very rapidly in the direction of Outrun 
 Castle. Nothing on earth did there seem which should occasion a pre- 
 cipitate retreat, unless it were the form of a stout ill-looking fellow 
 approaching Nelly Bain's cottage through the road from the right ; 
 but as that road was cut deep under the bank, Tom Hamilton did 
 not understand how the gamekeepers could see him. They had 
 seen something else, however, which neither Mr. Hamilton nor the 
 worthy gentleman who was approaching perceived for a minute or two 
 after, and therefore the man with the stout, short legs and rough, warty 
 countenance came nearer and nearer to the cottage, till Tom ex- 
 claimed^ 
 
 " On my life, it's that poaching vagabond Smalldram !" 
 
 "At that moment either the words which he uttered — and which, the 
 window being open, and he speaking aloud, issued forth into the open 
 air — or the sight of three men who came in view just then, walking 
 slowly and talking as they went, from the village below, induced 
 the worthy Mr. Smalldram to skulk away under the hedge of Nelly 
 Bain's garden, and pursue the least exposed paths over the moor in 
 the direction of Market Greenford. 
 
 Scarcely was he out of sight — and it did not take two minutes to 
 render him so — ere the men came up, one of them bearing a painted 
 stick in his hand, in sign of constableship ; and, looking round quietly 
 as if they were admiring the prospect, they said to each other — " He's 
 not here, you see !" 
 
 " The boy lied, I suppose ; all boys do." 
 
384 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 " Why he's had plenty of time to get off." 
 
 " Who are you looking for ?" cried Tom Hamilton from the window. 
 
 "Oh, good morning, Mr. Hamilton," said the constable; "we're arter 
 Smalldram, the tinman, for murder." 
 
 " Well he's this minute gone across the moor," said Tom Hamilton, 
 towards Market Greenford — if you run you're sure to catch him, or 
 drive him upon the high-road." 
 
 " Oh, that we will, that we will," said the man with the staff. 
 " Spread out, and after him, my men." 
 
 " Oh, let us go with them, let us go with them," cried Laura : 
 " Market Greenford is close to our house." 
 
 " It's nearly three miles off," said Tom Hamilton doubtingly. 
 
 " Oh, I can go, I can go," cried Laura, as if the very name of the 
 place inspired her with strength. 
 
 " Very well," said Tom Hamilton, unbolting the door ; " take my 
 arm. Miss Longmore, and let us follow the path that man Smalldram 
 took — those men are too much to the left." 
 
 Laura was quite ready to go any way he liked, so that it led to 
 Market Greenford ; and when they had gone about a hundred yards, or 
 a little more, Tom Hamilton stopped suddenly, stooped down and 
 picked up something. Laura imagined that he had dropped his gloves, 
 but whatever it was, whether glove, or pocket handkerchief, or tooth- 
 pick case, or a bundle of fish-hooks, he put it safely into his pocket, 
 and they proceeded on their way. 
 
 Now what were the other adventures they met with, and whether 
 there were any other adventures at all, the reader shall know hereafter, 
 if he will take the trouble of going on a few chapters farther, the end 
 and object of the present chapter being to show how Mr. Smalldram 
 chanced to run his head against Joey Pike, in the way we have before 
 described. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 385 
 
 CHAPTER LXIII. 
 
 HOW LAUEA-'S HOPES RESTED UPON HER FATHEr's ADHESIVE Q.UAL1T1ES HOW 
 
 SHE AND HBR COMPANION WERE REJOINED BY THE MADMAN AN ACCIDENT 
 
 WHICH PROVED TO LAURA SOME MORE OP THE EVILS OP GETTING ON TOO 
 
 FAST HOW HER HISTORY GOT TO ITS LAST STAGE, AND THE HOPES OF HER 
 
 HOUSE WERE OVERTURNED. 
 
 Pretty little Laura Longmore walked on by the side of Thomas 
 Hamilton, Esq., with no very steady and vigorous pace, for, to say 
 the truth, her neat little ancle was somewhat tired, and her whole 
 frame exhausted with a life of anxiety such as she had never led 
 before in her days. Nevertheless, she was very joyous ; the idea 
 of getting to Market Greenford was excessively pleasant to her, for 
 she thought of meeting with her father ; and she thought a little, too, of 
 meeting Harry Worrel, if the truth must be told ; for, from a long 
 knowledge of her worthy parent's character, she little doubted that 
 she would find him and Worrel together. He had lost his instruments ; 
 his observatory was gone ; his great telescope was but a heap of ashes 
 and a shapeless lump of flint glass ; his sky-plunger was no longer in 
 existence ; the sun had set upon his quadrants and sextants for ever ; 
 his fulminating powders had all exploded ; his pneumatic apparatus 
 had gone to the wind ; all his hydraulical contrivances had failed in 
 putting the fire out ; and his famous self-acting-electro-magnetic- 
 perpetuo-motival machine had burnt the house down, leaving nothing 
 unconsumed but the chevalier's trunk, a few rats and cats' bones, 
 and a large lump of plume-allum, which he had bought some time 
 before for the express purpose of twisting himself a fire-proof rope 
 to escape out of window in case of need. Strange as it may seem, 
 the recollection of all these several losses was to Laura's mind very 
 consolatory at that moment, and the secret of it was, dearly beloved, 
 that she knew her father must cling to something. If chemistry was 
 denied him, he stuck to the stars ; if an envious cloud shut the stars 
 from his sight, he would apply himself to the electrical machine ; if an 
 unfortunate cat broke the plates, he would take refuge in an air-pump ; 
 and, now that all these things were utterly out of his reach, and her 
 society, too, was denied him, she was quite sure that he would cling 
 to Harry Worrel as the thing which he was most accustomed to, near 
 at hand. 
 
 It might not have been very pleasant indeed for our friend Tom 
 Hamilton to know that pretty Laura Longmore, all the time he was 
 walking along beside her, and saying a great number of sweet and 
 gallant things, was thinking of another man. But Laura took especial 
 care not to tell him so, and at the end of the first mile he received the 
 most convincing proof possible that his conversation must be very 
 agreeable, by the young lady asking him not to walk quite so fast, 
 
 C. NO. XIII. 2 c 
 
386 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 the truth being, as we have before said, that she was very tired. 
 Scarcely, however, were the words out of her mouth, when Laura and 
 Tom Hamilton had cause to quicken rather than slacken their pace, 
 by the sudden apparition of the unfortunate madman coming bounding 
 over the moor, freed from all restraint, apparently not pursued, and 
 presenting itself to the eyes of both at the same moment. It was in 
 vain, however, that they hoped to escape his attention : in an instant 
 he was by their side with a loud laugh, exclaiming — 
 
 " Ha, ha, they thought they had caught me, but they're mistaken. 
 I've come to take care of you, I've come to take care of you. You 
 will be quite safe now." 
 
 Laura did not seem to be so well assured of the fact as the madman 
 seemed to be; and Tom Hamilton was casting about in his mind how 
 to get rid of him, when, just as they approached the high road running 
 across the common, and leading to Market Greenford and London, the 
 sound of wheels was heard upon it, and up dashed the identical stage 
 coach which had whirled away Joey Pike in his hour of dire necessity. 
 The horses' heads were turned towards Market Greenford ; there was 
 nobody on the outside of the coach ; there was only one elderly lady 
 in. Tom thought it would be an excellent opportunity, and, calling 
 to the coachman, be whispered to Laura — 
 
 "This is the luckiest thing in the world. You will now reach 
 Market Greenford without fatigue, and we shall get rid of our un- 
 pleasant friend here. Coachman, will you take this young lady to 
 Market Greenford ?'"' 
 
 "Lord, miss!" cried the coachman, pulling up, descending from 
 his box, and recognising Laura — having stopped many a time at the 
 gates of Ivy Hall to drive Mr. Longmore up to a scientific exhibition 
 to London. "Lord, miss! is that you? Well, I am werry glad to 
 see you. Drive ye to Market Greenford? — won't I? That I will, 
 and werry happy of the honour. You'll jump up on the box, I 'spose, 
 Mr. Hamilton ; I got a thin load you see ;" and putting the reins down 
 jpon the foot board, with the whip across them — ^for he was a cadless 
 coachman, and the unguarded moments of the coach were all along 
 the road — he approached with a great degree of suavity and courtesy 
 to open the door and give Laura admission. 
 
 Tom Hamilton, with equal gallantry, handed her in, saying — 
 
 " I'll see you safe, and then go back for my horse, which is still 
 upon the moor." 
 
 But, alack-and-a-well-a-day ! how people do reckon without their 
 host. The coachman banged the door to, and turned with Tom 
 Hamilton to remount his box. Both started, however, as if they had 
 seen a spectre, for there sat the madman with the reins in his left 
 hand, and th« whip in his right, looking as sedate as a judge, and 
 fully fancying that he was promoted to the high and important situation 
 of stage coachman. 
 
 " All's right !" cried poor Trollop, as he heard the door bang, and 
 at the same moment he levelled a most tremendous cut at the ears of 
 the leaders. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 38? 
 
 Away they started ; another lash was applied to the flanks of the 
 wheelers, and off they went at score. The wheels flew round like 
 lightning, the horses took twenty feet at a stretch, crack, crack, crack, 
 went the whip as loud as it could go, Tom Hamilton and the coachman 
 ran as hard as they could. 
 
 " Hurra !" cried the madman, excited to the highest pitch of deligh 
 at the rapidity with which he was going. 
 
 " Stop, stop, stop !" shouted the pursuers, their wind waxing less a 
 every call, and their voices fainter. 
 
 "Dash my buttons," cried the coachman, "he'll upset her." 
 
 But no such thing. Trollop had handled the reins more than once 
 in his day ; and onward they went, like thunder and lightning, without 
 the slightest pause, till they entered the town of Market Greenford. 
 There the horses, knowing their stable, proposed to themselves to 
 6top, an error in judgment which was instantly corrected by repeated 
 applications of the lash ; and on they went, through the town, over 
 the geese, amongst the pigs, on, on upon the road as hard as they 
 could go. 
 
 " Why, my eye, what do you call that ?" exclaimed the ostler at the 
 inn door. 
 
 " There's a go !" said the helper. 
 
 " Wy, Mr. Dixon must be mad," said the landlady. 
 
 " Bless you, marm, that's not Mr. Dixon," said the chambermaid. 
 " That's mad Trollop, as were postman at Outrun." 
 
 " Were ever such a thing seen ?" cried the landlady. " Quick, Bill, 
 get upon the mare and gallop arter them — there will be miscbeef 
 done." 
 
 " There were nobody outside, and I didn't see nobody in," said the 
 ostler, while he got up on the outside of a horse and rode after the 
 stage. But if he rode fast. Trollop drove faster. As a tin kettle at a 
 dog's tail seems to impress it with the necessity of locomotion, so the 
 light coach at the heels of the horses appeared but to accelerate their 
 pace. 
 
 " I say, has the coach passed ?" cried Bill to every turnpike man. 
 
 " That she have," answered the gentry addressed — " my eye, at sitch 
 a rate 1" 
 
 " Why, there's mad Trollop on the box," cried another. " How 
 did all this happen, Bill ?" 
 
 " I don't know," replied Bill, " but I must catch 'um ;" and on he 
 galloped too. 
 
 But for fifteen good miles he galloped in vain, till at length he 
 espied a great black substance lying in the middle of the road. 
 
 " That's she for a thousand !" he cried, as he came up ; and if the 
 lady he referred to was the stage coach, he was certainly right ; for 
 there it did lie flat upon its side, containing within itself Laura, very 
 much frightened and unhurt, and the demure, elderly lady, with a dis- 
 located wrist. The horses were, where many other horses occasionally 
 are in other places, " no where ;" and as for poor Trollop, he was 
 " no where" also. 
 
388 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER LXIV. 
 
 A BLACK-HOLE ESCAPE ASSASSINATION TABLES PROPOSED ME. SMALLPRAM 
 
 THROWN OFF HIS QITARD A DUEL INTERRUPTED THE CHEVALIER AND MR. 
 
 TRIPE COME TO AN UNDERSTANDING. 
 
 " A BEAUTIFUL evening this, Mr. Smalldrani," said Mr. Jeremiah 
 Tripe, as the excellent tinman was pushed neck and shoulders into the 
 black-hole of Market Greenford, with very unpleasant armlets and 
 anklets upon him. " You seemed dressed for a party, Mr. Smalldram. — 
 I say, Consty, the noggin's out— couldn't you favour one with a ditto? 
 you'll find something in the bottom of the measure." 
 
 " Any thing to oblige ye, Mr. Tripe," replied the constable, shaking 
 the small pewter pot, and hearing distinctly a half-crown sound in the 
 bottom. " Will ye have hot water or cold ?" 
 
 " Oh, hot, hot, hot," said Jerry ; " there's cold work enough in this 
 world, Consty, without drinking cold spirits. I love a warm-hearted 
 tankard as well as a warm-hearted man. Why, Mr. Smalldram, you're 
 very silent ! I hope you don't dislike the lodging ?*' 
 
 " Why, yes, I do," replied Mr. Smalldram ; " I'd rather they had sent 
 me to the stone pitcher at once ; but the fools were afraid." 
 
 " Indeed," said Mr. Tripe, " you must be an extraordinary prepa- 
 ration — what the French call an infernal machine, I take it, Mr. 
 Smalldram, if they think you're likely to blow up the gaol." 
 
 " No, it ain't that, anyhow," said Smalldram ; " but they were afraid 
 to trust me and Mother Scap in the same chay together, for fear I 
 should knock her brains out, and there was but one in the village ; so 
 they sent me here, a nasty stinking hole — I knew it weU when I was 
 in for poaching." 
 
 " Well, my good friend," replied Jerry, " we must make the best of 
 this life. Philosophy's a fine thing. Master Smalldram. Little accidents 
 of this kind will happen to the best-disposed young men in your line, 
 and occasionally graver events, which, I trust, will not in your case 
 interrupt the even tenor of your life." 
 
 " I don't know what you mean," said Smalldram; " cuss philosophy ! 
 I know nothing about philosophy — how the devil should I } But I'll 
 tell you what. Master Jerry — hang me if I don't blow that nasty old 
 woman to the devil, for she was just the first to turn round upon me.'* 
 
 " That is quite a feminine offence," said Jerry Tripe ; " never trust 
 a woman, Mr. Smalldram. But what you say raises my curiosity. So 
 our friend Madame Scapulaire, as Joey calls her, is sent off" to prison ; 
 suspected, I suppose, of having a little assisted the operations of 
 nature in removing her dear departed husband from this sublunary 
 sphere to a better state." 
 
 " Yes, that's just it,'' replied Smalldram, " only the matter's well 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIKENDO. 389 
 
 nigh proved agen her — she did for him, that's clear enough — I wish it 
 warn't, for that matter." 
 
 " Ah, you have a tender heart," said Jerry Tripe, " you com- 
 passionate the sorrows of the fair sect." 
 
 * No, I don't," replied Mr. Smalldram, gruffly. " I'd see 'em all 
 
 d d for that matter ; but if it warn't so well proved agen her, I'd 
 
 have a better chance of turning stag." 
 
 " Oh, fie !" cried Jerry Tripe ; " die game, friend Smalldram, die 
 game." 
 
 " I don't want to die at all, d me," said Mr. Smalldram ; "it's a 
 
 shame to be hung for such a trull as that." 
 
 " Why our laws are very unjust altogether," replied Jerry Tripe in 
 a moralizing tone. " Thank ye, Mr. Constable, I'll do as much for 
 you another time. Shall I make you a glass of half and half, Mr. 
 
 Smalldram ? Those muffetees must keep your hands very cold But 
 
 as I was saying, our laws are very unjust ; they make no distinctions. If 
 you hang a man of forty for killing a man of seventy, it's not fair, for 
 you take twice as much life as he took. Now, supposing, just for an 
 illustration, that it was you who strangled old Scapulary — probably 
 you did not take above two or three days' life from him — and when 
 compared with murdering a man of five or six and twenty, who might 
 reckon upon forty or fifty years, it was but a petty larceny sort of 
 assassination after all." 
 
 " Nor more it were," said Mr. Smalldram. 
 
 " Don't you think," said Jerry Tripe, in the same philosophical tone, 
 "that the equitable plan would be to take the government annuity 
 table, and calculate the quantity of hanging a man ought to have, 
 according to the age of the man he murdered ?" 
 
 " I think you're making a fool on me," said the tinman ; " and you'd 
 better let that alone, I can tell ye." 
 
 " Not at all, not at all," said Mr. Tripe, " I am speaking of the mere 
 equity of the case ; though men are hung by law not by equity — and I 
 am afraid they will not consider how much of old Scapulary's wind you 
 stopped, but only whether you stopped it at all." 
 
 " Well, don't let us have no more of that," said Mr. Smalldram ; 
 " I'm sick to death of hearing of that old varmint. I don't see there 
 was more harm in killing him than a mole or a rabbit." 
 
 "That depends upon circumstances," said Jerry Tripe, deliberately; 
 " but I should like to know very much, Mr. Smalldram, whether 
 amongst the papers of the deceased, as the lawyers have it, you found 
 a certain leaf of a register, which it was shrewdly suspected the old 
 gentleman tore out of the parish book some three-and-twenty years 
 ago. I don't suppose the old man would destroy such a precious 
 document." 
 
 " I dare say not," replied Mr. Smalldram, drily. 
 
 " Did you find it ?" said Mr. Tripe, in an insinuating tone. 
 
 ** I sees what you're up to well enough," replied Mr. Smalldram ; 
 " but it's no go, Mr. Tripe." 
 
 "You are facetious, my dear friend," said Mr. Tripe. "I only 
 
390 TUE commissioner; or, 
 
 thought that if you had — as the paper is of much importance to some 
 people, very well with the magistrates — you might make a good bargain 
 of it, as to turning approver." 
 
 Mr. Smalldram slapped his thigh, with a tremendous oath, 
 exclaiming — 
 
 " And that's the very thing I've thro wed away, for fear they should 
 find any of the old man's papers upon me. What a fool I must be ! 
 Why, I could have hid it in any rabbit hole." 
 
 " Very unfortunate, indeed," said Mr. Tripe gravely ; "^and I agree 
 fully with your own view of yourself." 
 
 " Come, don't give me any of your gammon," said the tinman, in an 
 angry tone, " or I'll dash that fat head of yours against the wall. If 
 I'm a fool, it's no business of yours." 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said Jerry Tripe, " it is my business, Master 
 Smalldram ; and as to dashing my head against the wall, it's not in 
 your skin to do it.'' 
 
 " I'll soon show you that," cried Mr. Smalldram, starting up. But 
 Jerry, being more accustomed to the atmosphere of the place than 
 himself, and perceiving a disposition on the part of Mr. Smalldram to 
 practise the monomachia with him, with a dexterous flirt of his right 
 hand sent the gin which remained in the measure right into the tinman's 
 eyes, which were opened wide for the purpose of seeing him. 
 The pain was excessive, and Mr. Smalldram swore and roared. 
 " Raw spirits are not good for the health," said Jerry, and he sent 
 the boiling water after the gin, which, as the reader may suppose from 
 the mode, state, or condition of the element, did not tend to cool Mr. 
 Smalldram. 
 
 A fearful combat was now about to engage, for Smalldram was a 
 strong man, and Jerry Tripe not a weak one. Jerry was incumbered 
 with fat and Smalldram with iron ; but Jerry certainly had the advan- 
 tage of two pewter pots, which he grasped vigorously in either hand, 
 after having discharged his missiles. Unhappily however for the reader, 
 who might have been entertained and edified by the description of a 
 combat such as has not been given since the days of Homer or Don 
 Quixotte, the constable at that moment opened the door, saying ir 
 his usual gruff" tone — 
 
 " Come along, Tom, here's the chay ready for ye." 
 Before Mr. Smalldram issued forth in obedience to his summons, 
 rejoicing to exchange the black-hole for the gaol, or rather as he was 
 issuing forth, he took the opportunity of avenging himself upon Jerry 
 Tripe, by a straight-forward kick in the stomach, wliich for a moment 
 deprived the respectable butler of all breath and bodily powers. 
 Recovering himself, however, the instant after, he darted towards Mr. 
 Smalldram just as he was ascending the steps, and hit him a blow 
 upon the back of the neck, just below the cerebellum, which made 
 the unfortunate gentleman dip forward and break his nose against the 
 stones. 
 
 " Is not that too bad ?" exclaimed Mr. Smalldram in the tone of 
 injured innocence. But the constable would not suffer him, as he 
 
BE LUNATICO INQtllRENDO. 391 
 
 wished, to go back and take it out in kind, and being crammed into 
 the chaise he was soon rolled off to prison, where we shall take leave of 
 him, having but few words more to say of Thomas Smalldram, Esq. 
 
 Still the door of the black-hole did not shut, and Jerry having been 
 instructed in the art of making his way in life by a great adept in that 
 particular philosophy, had learned to take advantage of every openingy 
 and judging an open door to be as good as any other, he approached 
 the steps upon tiptoe, proposing to himself a promenade in the town 
 of Market Greenford and the adjacent country. But just at that 
 moment a lantern appeared at the door, for it was now nearly dark, 
 and Jerry, judging the opportunity not favourable, withdrew from the 
 foot of the steps, while the constable descended bearing in his hand 
 the resplendent luminary we have mentioned, and followed by a gentle- 
 man to whom he seemed very polite. 
 
 " Here's the gemman with the long nose again, Mr. Tripe," he 
 said ; " he's your 'torney I 'spose, so I let un in. Shall 1 leave the 
 lantern, sir?" 
 
 " Ay do," said the chevalier ; and sitting down upon the side of the 
 bedstead, he began as follows : — 
 
 " Although I begin to perceive, my good friend Tripe, that there is 
 no such great difference after all between the customs and manners, 
 the habits of thought and conditions of mind of men in this world and 
 those in the moon, only that you are a little more extravagant and 
 rather less reasonable than ourselves, and although I perceive that I 
 might venture safely upon any lunatic action whatsoever — provided 
 I did it with a grace — without attracting animadversion or fearing 
 scandal " 
 
 " It's a speech," said Jerry Tripe. 
 
 " Yet," continued the chevalier, uninterrupted by Jerry's observation, 
 " I have judged it expedient for your safety to consult with you as to 
 the measures I am to take. To-night, the magistrates wearied with 
 many labours, and judging it too late to revisit Outrun Castle, rather 
 soporific too with punch, somewhat indolent by nature, afflicted in some 
 instances by gout, affected in others by rheumatism, generally differ- 
 ing from each other in opinion, and universally thinking each other 
 fools — the magistrates I say ^" 
 
 " It's a long speech," said Jerry Tripe. 
 
 " Have determined to do no more to-night," proceeded Mr. de 
 Lunatico, " but to conclude with a haunch of venison which Mrs. 
 Muggins is unfortunately possessed of, and to go on to business to- 
 morrow. You will then be called up before them, and what I wish 
 to know is, what will be the most convenient course for me to pursue." 
 
 " Come now," said Jerry Tripe, " that's a capital end to the speech, 
 and very like a gentleman too. You've got nothing in life to do, my dear 
 chevalier, but to vow you never saw me in your life before — or to say 
 you can't swear to me, or that you won't, if you people in the moon 
 object to telling a lie, which is just possible." 
 
 " We do," said the chevalier ; " but I can easily say I won't, if the}- 
 in their turn won't compel me." 
 
392 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 " They can't, if you stick firm," said Jerry. " Just cock your head 
 on one side, and screw up your eye, and look at me knowingly for a 
 minute or two, and say you shouldn't like to swear. You may say 
 I am somewhat like the man, but after all you won't take your oath 
 of it." 
 
 " That can be done," said the chevalier ; " but still, though they 
 forgot to swear me before, I was very positive to your identity." 
 
 " Well then you can stay away altogether," said Jerry Tripe ; " then 
 when there's no evidence against me they must discharge me ; at least 
 I suppose they will. i\.t all events, I have your promise, haven't I, 
 chevalier, that you'll not give evidence against me ?" 
 
 " You have," replied Mr. Lunatico. 
 
 " Well then now you shall hear," said Jerry Tripe ; " but as I 
 
 shouldn't wonder if that d d constable were listening — just bend 
 
 down your head, will ye, and I'll tell ye all about it." 
 
 The chevalier did bend down his head, and Jerry Tripe continued 
 whispering to him for some five minutes, the chevalier repeating from 
 
 time to time — " I thought so. 1 could have sworn it. Exactly 
 
 so ! I was sure of it all the time. Lost it ?" exclaimed the chevalier 
 
 in a tone of horror and surprise. 
 
 "Yes indeed, sir," answered Jerry Tripe; "the fool threw it away; 
 though if the noble lord, my master, had known he had got it in his 
 hands he would have contrived to save him from the gallows if he had 
 murdered all the old sextons in Europe — that he would." 
 
 " I think it likely," said the chevalier. " But what's to be done 
 now?" 
 
 " Why really I don't know," replied the worthy b-utler ; " it's an 
 awkward job, my dear chevalier, and unless you were to advertise a 
 reward for any one who found it, I don't see what's to be done. That's 
 the best thing that I can suggest. But human wisdom is fallible, 
 ray dear chevalier, and even my plans are not always successful." 
 
 " No, it appears not," replied the chevalier. " Then you think I 
 must apply to Mrs. Muggins ?" 
 
 " Decidedly," said Jerry Tripe ; " and if she doesn't like to speak, 
 
 tell her I have, and she'll soon come to . But after all, the 
 
 register's the thing. Documentary evidence, my dear chevalier — 
 documentary evidence for the House of Lords — nothing like it." 
 
 " Certainly not," said the chevalier ; " so I'll go and order it to be 
 cried." 
 
DE LUNATIGO INQUIRENDO. 393 
 
 CHAPTER LXV. 
 
 THE UNDESERVED MISFORTUNES OF VISCOUNT OUTRUN — THE EULOGIUM OF GOOD 
 
 NATURE JOEY PIKE ASSERTS HIS CLAIMS THEY ARE ADMITTED BY THK 
 
 VISCOUNT A DAY AFTER THE FAIR HIS LORDSHlp's MAGNANIMITY. 
 
 " This is portentous," said Viscount Outrun, as he stood surrounded 
 by gamekeepers and lookers-out, and attended by the head-footman, 
 Joseph, supplying the place of Jeremiah Tripe. " By jingo, the game's 
 going against me ! The girl got away after capture ! Tom Hamilton 
 thrashing the gamekeepers ! Tim's arm broken ! The madman escaped ! 
 and a search-warrant against Outrun Castle ! 'Pon my life, these are 
 what one may call undeserved misfortunes. But I'll resist fate itself. 
 I'll — I'll — by jingo, I'll do something great! I'll be present at the 
 marriage ceremony ; I'll cuff Freddy at the altar till he can't stand ; 
 I'll break the parson's head with the prayer-book ; and I'll horsewhip 
 the bride." 
 
 " Lord ! no, my lord," said Joseph, who had that peculiar virtue, 
 ever underrated, often blamed, which is too frequently used as a 
 term of reproach, and never held up to admiration for all the good it 
 does in the world — good nature— the nearest approach to Christian 
 charity — the most serviceable quality to others if not to one's-self — 
 the cloak that hides a neighbour's shame, the staff that props a friend's 
 footsteps, the balm that cures the bitter wounds of anger, the elixir 
 that supports under many a storm and tempest, the grand self-denying 
 ordinance of the heart, more common to great men than one knows, 
 and always denied to the petty, the mean, and the selfish ; — beautiful 
 good nature ! the smoother of the rough things of life. 
 
 " Lord ! no, my lord, you won't do no such a thing. What should 
 your lordship spoil their fmi for ? All your lordship wants is grand- 
 children, and I dare say you*ll have plenty on 'env. What signifies it 
 to you who's their mother, so they're honestly come by ?" 
 
 " Joseph," said the peer — " Joseph, you are a philosopher ; Joseph, 
 you are the greatest philosopher I ever met with. My anger has 
 departed : but still I will go to the marriage, and, for the sake of my 
 own dignity, I will reprove my son for his clandestine proceedings. As 
 to Tom Hamilton, woe be to him for thrashing my gamekeepers. I'll 
 punish him — I'll punish him ; let me see how I'll punish him ?" 
 
 " Your lordship will make him drink a gallon of claret," said 
 Joseph ; " that's how you will punish him. As for thrashing him, my 
 lord, I don't suppose you'll undertake that." 
 
 *' Why not, Joseph, why not ?" cried the peer, a slight blush suf- 
 fusing his countenance, of a peculiar colour, like a glass of port wine 
 spilt upon a pompadour silk dress. " I have thrashed as good men as 
 Tom Hamilton in my day." 
 
 " Ay, my lord, but that was a long time ago," said Joseph, his eyes 
 
394 THE commissioner; ok, 
 
 resting respectfully upon the protuberance which his lordsliip carried 
 under his waistcoat. " Mr. Hamilton is a young gentleman, my lord ; 
 and I must say it, though perhaps I shouldn't, he's as kind-hearted a 
 young gentleman as any in the country. Then you can't take him 
 aback for nothing : he can do every thing, I believe. He's the best shot 
 in the four parishes ; he talks the fish out of the water, I think, for 
 they come just for his asking ; he can draw a cork with his finger and 
 thumb as well as Jerry with a corkscrew ; and " 
 
 " Drink it as well as any one," said the peer, " when he has drawn it. 
 By jingo, he's a devilish good fellow, and worth his victuals any how." 
 
 " I'll give him a devilish good thrashing, if I catch him," said the 
 principal gamekeeper ; " he's lamed me for life, I think." 
 
 *' Then you had better not try it again," rejoined the peer. " If you 
 tell me that you will thrash him again, I'll discharge you." 
 
 " Well, my lord, I won't if you dislike it," said the man. 
 
 " I don't dislike it all," said Viscount Outrun, who seemed to be in 
 a captious mood ; " but if you thrash him now, I'll discharge you for 
 not thrashing him before. You can't say, you could not as well do it 
 on my account as on your own, when you had half-a-dozen men to help 
 you ; so let's have no more bragging. I'll go to the wedding, not- 
 withstanding, Joseph ; and after I have rowed them, I'll bring them 
 home and give them a dinner. By jingo, we'll have a flare-up ! They 
 must be married at the parish church, mustn't they ? — but I know they 
 must, so I'll nab them. I wonder who the deuce he's going to take : 
 I hope she's a pretty girl, that's all." 
 
 " Oh ! trust him for that, my lord," said Joseph : " he never would 
 look upon an ugly one in his life." 
 
 " Ay, Joseph," said the peer, " but I have often seen that those who 
 have played the mischief with all the pretty women in the parish, and 
 have broken the hearts of all the kind ones, have been caught by an 
 ugly vixen at last. Where's that great he-bear he brought with him 
 — Mr. Darius, as he calls him ?" 
 
 " Oh, they're both together, my lord," said Joseph ; " they seem 
 both birds of a feather. Mr. Winterton is out in the park, ranting 
 about and spouting verses, till he made all the deer start away to tht 
 other side, as if there had been a pack of hounds arter them " 
 
 " Hunting in couples," said the peer, " hunting in couples : no bad 
 simile for Mr. Winterton's rhymes. Go and send him in here. I'll 
 make him drunk with brandy punch : nothing like seeing an author 
 drunk, they are so devilish conceited, and then it all comes out. By 
 jingo, one must keep one's-self alive in this dull place ! One gets 
 thinking of all manner of things if one does not." 
 
 The peer kept his word : he did make Mr. Winterton drunk — ay, 
 and very drunk too, while he himself, with a better fortified head, 
 resisted the wine and the punch together, like Frederick the Great in 
 the presence of two hostile armies ; and, oh, ye gods ! what a farrago 
 of trash and absurdity poured forth from the lips of the poor poet in 
 
 his state of inebriety ! He talked as much nonsense as ; he 
 
 S2)oke as much covert treason as — — ; he quoted as much bad 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIREWDO. 395 
 
 Latin and Greek as ; and he misstated as many facts and 
 
 principles as ." 
 
 There are four blanks for you ! Fill them up with whatever names 
 you like, reader ! Every man has some friend or relation, in or out 
 of parliament, to put into such places when they are vacant, and we 
 are happy to leave the distribution of some patronage to our excellent 
 friends and supporters. 
 
 Mr. Winterton was carried off to bed in a state between madness 
 and stupidity which can only be acquired by drunkenness ; and the 
 peer retired to rest, having accomplished the grand and important 
 object of killing another evening. 
 
 At his usual hour of rising on the following morning, Viscount 
 Outrun rang his bell, dressed himself with great punctuality, put on a 
 clean white waistcoat, put a red velvet nightcap into his pocket, and, 
 after having breakfasted with a sufficient degree of appetite, proceeded 
 towards the church, taking the path which the reader has so often 
 travelled to and from Outrun Castle to the stile near Widow Scapu- 
 lary's. Scarcely, however, had he got two hundred yards from Outrun 
 Castle, when he beheld advancing towards him a youth dressed in a 
 green velvet waistcoat, a blue coat, with fancy brass buttons, and 
 trousers of a somewhat brilliant claret colour. He had one of the 
 smartest hats that the village of Outrun could produce, set delicately 
 upon one side of his head, with a profusion of elegantly-disposed hair 
 escaping from under its brim. Upon the tips of his toes, with his right 
 hand thrust into the bosom of his waistcoat, and a sweet simper upon 
 his lips, he advanced straight to the viscount, and, to the horror and 
 astonishment of that nobleman, fell upon his knees before him, catching 
 his hand at the same time, and kissing it tenderly and respectfully. 
 
 " Why, who the devil are you ?" cried his lordship. " By jingo, 
 I recollect your face — why, why, it's Joey Pike ! Get up, man, get up." 
 
 "Ah, Zio mio^^ cried Joey, still detaining the viscount's hand; 
 " listen to the calls of nature, think upon the tender ties of blood : as 
 Apollo said to Jupiter — ' Have you no bowels for your own relations ?'" 
 
 " The fellow's mad," said the peer. " Get up, you Tom-o' -Bedlam, 
 or I'll kick ye. D'ye think I am to be kept here all day ?" 
 
 "'Tis not the first time, O uncle !" replied Joey, " that your avun- 
 cular foot has been applied to my posterior parts ; but then, not 
 knowing and understanding that it was but kindred chatiment, I 
 resented the indignity." 
 
 " Uncle ! you fool," cried the peer, stamping, " who made me your 
 uncle ? Not your father and mother, I am sure !'* 
 
 " You know it not, you know it not, it is true," said Joey Pike ; 
 "but, nevertheless, oh, my uncle ! the fact will not bear contradiction. 
 Your blood flows dans mes veins, and beats in il mio cor. It has been a 
 secret, studiously concealed, perhaps, from yourself, as it has been from 
 me ; but, depend upon it, it is la verile^ 
 
 The viscount put his finger under his hat, and scratched his head, 
 gazing upon Joey Pike with a bewildered air, and making no reply. 
 
396 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 But still more astonished and astounded became his look when Joey 
 thus went on — 
 
 " Did not your sister — did not your fair, your lovely, your interesting 
 sister — did she not contract a private marriage, being then under age ? 
 Did you not cause the leaf to be torn out of the marriage register, 
 while her husband,thinking the marriage was concealed, was fighting 
 by the side of the Archduke Ferdinand in the Low Countries ? Was 
 she not delivered of a child while you were absent in London ? Lo ! 
 the offspring of that ill-starred union kneeling humbly at your feet, and 
 beseeching you to acknowledge the claims of sang /" 
 
 If the cameleon changes to many colours, the viscount's face changed 
 to more : if the evening sky assumes every shade of red, from the deepest 
 crimson down to a slightly-tinged grey, the face of the viscount beat it 
 hollow. 
 
 '* By jingo, this is strange," he exclaimed, as soon as he could recover 
 his breath. " I always thought that you were a little iniquity of old 
 Scapulary's, especially when the fellow palmed you upon me for a foot- 
 boy ; but, by jingo, I don't know what to think now. But, pray, who 
 told you all this story ?" 
 
 " I discovered it slowly and by degrees," replied Joey Pike : " one 
 step led to another, till the whole became clear to me. I then put it, 
 only last night, to Jerry Tripe — to the renowned Jerry — and he could 
 not deny it." 
 
 " By jingo, this is queer !" cried the peer. " On my life, I always 
 suspected something ; but Jerry should not have said any thing without 
 asking me. Well, get up, my boy : we'll inquire into the matter ; and 
 if it be so, why, hang it! I must do something for you somehow." 
 
 Joey embraced the viscount's knees, and wept, while his lordship, 
 who did not like such scenes, tried vigorously to shuffle him off. 
 
 Joey was in the height of his glory ; there was not one feeling or sen- 
 timent wanting to the perfection of his felicity. He was noble — he was 
 unfortunate — he was injured — he was interesting. He could admire 
 himself — he could compassionate himself — he could sympathise with 
 himself — he could feel for himself. But in the meantime he held tight 
 hold of the viscount's knees, like poor Malibran, acting Desdemona 
 in the last scene ; and, as his lordship, who disliked the thing very much, 
 struggled vehemently to free himself, and was rather rounder in the 
 girth than substantial in the base, as may be naturally expected, he fell 
 on his back upon the grass, dragging Joey down with his face between 
 his two feet. Joey instantly sprang up with a bound upon one foot, 
 hovering over the viscount with outstretched arms, like the famous 
 figure of Victory — then bending down, he helped his lordship up, 
 exclaiming as he did so — " How touching, to raise one's uncle from the 
 ground !" 
 
 " Why the devil did you throw me down ?" cried the peer. " But 
 never mind : get away to the castle — tell the people I sent you ; but 
 mind, don't give yourself airs, or they'll kick you all round the place. 
 I'm going on to the church, where my boy Freddy is going to be 
 

 ■m 
 m 
 
 C^Y^'-l/ 0-977^'^^/, 
 
# 
 
 4 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
r>E LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 397 
 
 married this morning, whether I like it or not. Damn it ! clandestine 
 marriages seem to run in my family — it is a hereditary disease.'* 
 
 " May I not accompany my beloved uncle," exclaimed Joey, " to 
 witness the noces of my dear cousin ?" 
 
 " Oh, come if you like, come if you like," cried the peer. "By 
 jingo, it's a good thought. Here, give us your arm. I'm always a 
 little puffy in the morning ;" and away they walked towards the stile, 
 the peer certainly deriving great assistance from the support he received, 
 and beginning to think it no bad thing to have a nephew after all. 
 
 Over the stile they went, passed old Scapulary's door, and through 
 the churchyard into the porch of the church. There was a murmur 
 within, as if somebody was reading prayers ; and then a loud and 
 nasal " amen" sounded down the aisle. 
 
 "By jingo, we're too late," cried the peer — "all owing to your 
 stopping me that way, Joey. But come along, come along j I'll give it 
 them heartily." 
 
 " Oh, don't sauter them too severely," cried Joey. 
 "Sauter!" cried the peerj "what the devil does the jackanapes 
 mean ?" 
 
 " Blow 'em up," said Joey, " blow 'em up, my lord.'' 
 "Oh, but I will blow 'em up," said his lordship, striding forward up 
 the aisle, with the rubies upon his countenance glowing and glistening 
 like the diamonds of the fairy tales — with their own internal fire. 
 " Holloa, Freddy !" he cried, " what are you about, you blackguard ? 
 Is this the way you return a father's confidence? — and you. Master 
 Hookham, what the devil did you marry them for without my leave ?" 
 
 " Five guineas, my noble and very good lord," replied the parson, 
 closing the book, " that's what I married them for. Ain't that a capital 
 motive ?" 
 
 " A devilish dirty one, by jingo," said the peer. " Didn't I give 
 you the living, you scoundrel ?" 
 
 " Yes, you did, my lord," replied Parson Hookham ; " but I under- 
 stand your lordship has got no more livings to give. Besides, I can't 
 refuse to perform my office when the parties are of due age and no 
 lawful impediment." 
 
 In the meantime the Honourable Freaerick Henry Augustus Fitzurse 
 had slunk behind Mr. Darius with a face peculiarly whity-brown, and 
 poor Jane had taken refuge behind Tom Hamilton, while Sally, her 
 bridesmaid, tittered, brirafuU of saucy fun, not a little pleased at a taste 
 of revenge upon the viscount. 
 
 " Next time he opens my boxes, Jane, " she said, " I hope he may 
 find a marriage licence in them." 
 
 But poor Jane was all in a twitter, and a great deal too much 
 agitated with various things, to enter into Sally's amusement. Peeping 
 out from behind Tom Hamilton the first thing she endeavoured to ascer- 
 tain was, whether her noble father-in-law had a horsewhip in his hand ; 
 and to say the truth, the Honourable Mr. Fitzurse, knowing his father's 
 propensities, was engaged in the same investigation at the same 
 moment. 
 
398 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 The next burst of the peer's indignation fell upon Tom Hamilton — 
 
 " A pretty fellow you are, Tom — aren't you ?" he exclaimed. " What 
 the devil do you mean, sir, by licking my gamekeepers, and marrying 
 my son without my consent ?" 
 
 " I beg your lordship's pardon," said Tom Hamilton, " in the latter 
 point you are mistaken. I wouldn't marry your son for all the world, 
 even if I were a woman. But not to joke with your lordship's charge, 
 as you ask me seriously why I licked your gamekeepers I will answer 
 you seriously ; and I am sure my reply will be far from giving offence 
 to your lordship. I licked your gamekeepers because I caught them 
 in a blackguard and dishonourable act, which I knew your lordship 
 would neither command nor justify. They were insulting a lady, my lord, 
 and not only insulting but ill-treating her. Now I only saved your 
 lordship the trouble of doing that which I knew you would do yourself 
 as soon as you heard the particulars. Now as to the next point, 
 namely, the aiding and abetting your son in committing the iniquity of 
 matrimony " 
 
 " It is an honourable state !'* exclaimed Dr. Hookham. 
 
 " Ay," cried the peer, with a laugh which showed that his anger was 
 evaporating, " and more honourable than pleasant as you know, 
 Hookham — isn't it ? But come, Tom, get on with the matrimony. 
 What's your excuse for that, old boy ? You're one of those fellows who 
 never want a good reason for a thing. I know ye." 
 
 " Why, as to abetting your son, as I have said before," replied Tom 
 Hamilton, " my reason for that was exactly the same as for thrashing 
 the keepers." 
 
 " Why, you didn't find him insulting and ill-treating a lady ?" 
 
 " Why, something very like it," replied Tom Hamilton ; " and I 
 was quite sure if I didn't induce him to marry her, your lordship would 
 make him, seeing that he had given her a promise to do so under his 
 own hand." 
 
 " That I would then, certainly," said the peer ; " those are a sort of 
 bills at sight that ought always to be honoured." 
 
 " The only ones, my lord, I suppose ?" said Tom. 
 
 " Pretty nearly," answered the peer, " pretty nearly. But come, 
 hang it, let us see the girl — you've got her in behind ye there, so that 
 I can't see my own daughter-in-law." 
 
 " Let me present her to your lordship," said Tom Hamilton, taking 
 Jane's hand, who, to say the truth, in her best bonnet, and with the 
 smartest cap that the time had permitted her to make up, looked as 
 pretty a girl as one would wish to set eyes upon ; " let me present her 
 to your lordship. The Honourable Mrs. Fitzurse Viscount Out- 
 run," and he led her up to the peer. 
 
 Every one was as quiet as a mouse in a cheese, for there was a strong 
 consciousness upon all parties present that his lordship might not 
 be particularly well satisfied with having his head housemaid for his 
 daughter-in-law. He certainly did gaze upon her for a minute or two 
 in silent surprise, but then to the astonishment of every body, he took 
 her in his arms, and gave her a huge kiss. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 399 
 
 "'Pon my life, Jane,'* he said, "I believe Freddy might have done 
 worse. I am not half so angry as I thought I should be ; so every one 
 of ye come home with me and I'll give you a good dinner." 
 
 " Why, Jane," said Joey Pike, " I never thought I should have you 
 for a cousin." 
 
 " A cousin ?'* cried Jane. 
 
 " A cousin ?" cried Mr. Fitzurse. " Why, my dear girl, your cousins 
 are springing up like mushrooms." 
 
 " Why, a great discovery has been made," said Joey ; " I'm his 
 lordship's nephew." 
 
 " What ! you, Joey Pike ?" cried Tom Hamilton. 
 
 " What ! you, Joey ?" cried Jane. 
 
 " What ! you, Joey ?" cried the parson. 
 
 " What ! you, Joey ? — what ! you, Joey ? — what ! you, Joey ?" cried 
 every body. 
 
 " Why, so he says," replied the viscount, taking advantage of an 
 attitude into which Joey was twisting himself, before he began his 
 answer ; " why, so he says ; and hang me if I don't believe there's 
 some truth in it. But come along — let the bells be rang — as the thing's 
 done, and can't be undone, we'll make the best of it. We'll broach 
 the ' 89/ and have a grand dinner, and have one merry day at least in 
 this dull life." 
 
 The grand jury of fate seldom, if ever, has such a thing brought 
 before it, without throwing out the bill. 
 
400 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER LXVI. 
 
 THE DARK HINTS OF TOM HAMILTON THE AXIOMS OP MRS. MUGGINS THE 
 
 BEFLECTIONS OF THE CHEVALIER THE BRIDAL PROCESSION THE DISCOM- 
 FITURE OF THE MAGISTRACY THE ELOQUENCE OF THE PEER. 
 
 " I MUST just run up to the Half Moon," said Tom Hamilton, " and 
 tell good old Mr. Longmore, who, I understand, is there, that his 
 daughter is safe and well at the village of Oxborough : I'll come after 
 you directly. But first let me say that I hope your lordship is satisfied 
 with my conduct." 
 
 " Why, Tom," said the peer, shaking him by the hand, " you are a 
 devilish good fellow, one way or another ; but I mustn't have you lick- 
 ing gamekeepers any more, or marrying my son to any body without 
 my consent." 
 
 " As to the gamekeepers, my lord," said Tom Hamilton, " they must 
 take their chance : as to your son, this may be pretty well called a 
 wind-up. I seldom meddle with matrimony at all, and never with 
 bigamy ; and as there's capital fishing and shooting, you know " 
 
 " Ay, that 'ill do, that 'ill do," said the peer ; " don't be long, Tom — 
 there's a good fellow ; we shall want all the fun we can get ;" and, 
 putting himself at the head of the procession. Viscount Outrun led the 
 way from the church, with the rest ol the party following. 
 
 Tom Hamilton, for hrs part, sped away to the sign of the Half 
 Moon, wondering not a little to see no boys in the streets of Outrun, 
 for it was a place abundant in that sort of weed ; but, strange to say, it 
 was totally vacant, although, according to any ordinary calculation, the 
 news ought to have got abroad a full quarter of an hour before. Not 
 only boys were absent, however, but girls — not only girls, but men ; 
 and, had it not been for some women and some infants, the town would 
 have been like that admirable city in the Arabian Nights, where every 
 body was silent (being turned into stone) but one person, who did no- 
 thing but pray — an excellent moral lesson, and a fine allegory, (as is 
 the case with every one of those wonderful tales,) showing how the 
 worship of any of the false deities of this world, from Mammon to 
 Lucifer, hardens men to stone ; while those only survive to real life 
 who lift their voices and their hearts to God alone. However, all was 
 dull and silent in the streets of Outrun ; and Mr. Hamilton, on arrivmg 
 at the door of the Half Moon, found it nearly as dull and silent also. 
 
 " Holloa, waiter ! hoy !" he cried. " Hang it, rs there no one here ?" 
 
 " Lawk, Mr. Hamilton, is that you ?" said Mrs. Muggins. " What do 
 you please to want, sir ?" 
 
 " I want Mr. Longmore," replied Tom Hamilton. 
 
 " Dear sir, he's not in," said Mrs. Muggins ; " he's gone with the rest 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 401 
 
 of the gentlemen down to the castle. They've taken all the world with 
 them, and sworn in everybody they can find as special constables. 
 Never was such a piece of work." 
 
 "Is Mr. Worrel here, then?'* said Tom Hamilton ; "for I want to 
 see him very much." 
 
 " Lord, no, sir," replied Mrs. Muggins ; " he's gone down, too : 
 they've all gone to search the castle for Miss Laura. Weren't you there 
 when they all got ducked yesterday ?" 
 
 " No, indeed," answered Tom Hamilton ; " but I have heard some- 
 thing of it. There's nobody here, then ?" 
 
 " Nobody at all," said Mrs. Muggins, <*but the odd gentleman with 
 the long nose, who is sitting in the back parlour, trying to pump some- 
 thing out of me which I say is nothing to nobody." 
 
 "Ah!" said Tom Hamilton, "is that about this murder of old 
 Scapulary ?" 
 
 " No, no," said Mrs. Muggins ; " it is about a business long before 
 your time. You might be an infant in arms, indeed, then ; or maybe 
 four or five years old, for aught I know ; but you can know nothing 
 about that affair." 
 
 " I'm not so sure of that," said Tom. " I know more about most 
 things than you think of, Mrs. Muggins. Pray, is it about a certain 
 Colonel Worrel ?" 
 
 " Laud a mercy ! how you guess," cried Mrs. Muggins, tittering. 
 " Why, you're as bad as the chevalier himself, though he seems to see 
 through one with a single wink of his clear grey eyes." 
 
 " Well, Mrs. Muggins," said Tom Hamilton, with a knowing look, 
 " if the chevalier wants to know more of Colonel Worrel's history, he 
 had better come to me. Tell him so ; and now, good-by, for I must 
 run back as fast as I can to Outrun Castle." 
 
 Thus saying, he left her ; and Mrs. Muggins stood, for the space of 
 about two minutes, with her eyes fixed upon a particular paving-stone, 
 and then ended her contemplations with a sage axiom, saying — " When 
 things get into a conglomeration, they are sure to expire;" which is 
 undoubtedly true, because Mrs. Muggins said it. Otherwise, we should 
 have considerable doubts as to the meaning of the axiom ; but she went 
 on to add another, in the truth and excellence of which we perfectly 
 concur, though it was conveyed in more homely and less erudite 
 language. 
 
 " When everybody runs, it's as well to be the first in the race,'* 
 said Mrs. Muggins, and in she went to the chevalier, who, after five 
 minutes' conversation with her — they might, indeed, be ten minutes that 
 he spent in her society — came out, with his hat set jauntily on one side 
 of his head, and took his way towards the stile leading into Outrun park. 
 As he passed by the cottage of old Scapulary, he paused to meditate, 
 for the windows were closed that erst were open, the door was tight shut, 
 and there was that air of un-inhabited-ness about it which always gives 
 matter for the speculative mind to pause and ponder upon. 
 
 " Ay," he said, " she is gone — to the gaol and the gallows — a proper 
 consummation for a life of vice. A bad speculation that, a bad specu- 
 
 C. NO. XIII. 2 D 
 
402 THE COMMISSIONEE } OR, 
 
 lation. We are but traders, after all, in fate and circumstances; we 
 barter through life one condition for another, and, in our eagerness upon 
 the great Exchange, are always buying a pig in a poke. The merchan- 
 dize we have — the things of the present — we know, with all their imper- 
 fections, their faults, and their flaws, and we stupidly try to get rid of them 
 in change for the packed-up bales of the future, which we have never 
 examined except by a small and fraudulent sample, held out in the hand 
 of that roguish broker, Hope. A bad speculation, Mrs. Scapulary, a bad 
 speculation ! for of one thing we may be very certain, that whatever we 
 may purchase, if it be bought by the forged bills or counterfeit coin of 
 vice and crime, we shall be obliged to refund with a terrible interest, 
 and perhaps be put into a dark, cold prison, as a punishment for the 
 offence. How melancholy a house looks with the windows closed," 
 continued the chevalier ; " it looks as if death were upon it — the eyes 
 shut, and the teeth set, and the spirit, from within departed. When 
 first I passed that cottage, how gay and cheerful it looked, and now it 
 is as dull as disappointment. A bad speculation, Mrs. Scapulary, a bad 
 speculation ! It is a curious question for me to determine, and which 
 my instructions do not decide, how far crime of any kind is, or is not 
 lunacy. Nine times out of ten it is so, distinctly ; for we find that 
 people cast away every blessing, long, permanent, excellent, for some 
 momentary enjoyment, or some fallacious expectation. -I must think 
 of this ; for, having cleared the higher orders of society of one half of 
 its numbers — who are our mere citizens got astray here below — I may 
 have a general gaol delivery to go through, which will be a serious 
 affair." 
 
 Thus saying, the chevalier walked on, crossed the stile into Outrun 
 park, and proceeding with his quick but gliding and equable step, he 
 soon came within sight of the building. 
 
 " Ay," he said, " there they are, busily at it, and not likely, I should 
 think, to be outwitted a second time. But, bless my soul ! if I mistake 
 not. Lord Outrun himself is there upon the steps haranguing them. 
 What can all this be about, I wonder ?" 
 
 We must now proceed to explain to the reader the circumstances 
 which caused our honourable commissioner's astonishment. 
 
 With slow and dignified steps, having the bride upon his arm, and 
 talking to her in a gay — somewhat too gay a tone, the noble lord con- 
 ducted the procession from the church-door, while the rest of the party 
 followed ; Mr. Darius paying devoted attention to the bride's-maid, in 
 whose eyes he was a very personable man ; and Mr. Fitzurse yawning 
 languidly, and drawling intolerably through a conversation with Joey 
 Pike. When they approached the castle, however, they perceived, to 
 the surprise of the greater part of the persons there present, a multi- 
 tude of horse and foot, grown men and infantry, surrounding the 
 mansion, which was apparently in a state of siege or blockade. 
 
 " What's all that, my noble dad ?" inquired Mr. Fitzurse : " there 
 seems a mob about the place. " It caen't be the garland girls, there's 
 too many of 'em, and they're all men." 
 
 " That's no reason, Freddy," said the peer. " What was the Swiss 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 403 
 
 giantess but a whacking mountaineer? and th« tall woman in the 
 Haymarket but a life-guardsman ?" 
 
 " I was a woman once," said Joey Pike, with sweet ndivetL 
 
 " Perhaps you aire now, Joey," said Mr. Fitzurse ; " you look 
 demmed like one." 
 
 " C'est un mensonger cried Joey, his manhood rising against the 
 indignity. 
 
 " But what caen they be ?** said Mr. Fitzurse. 
 
 " They look like anthropophagi," said Mr. Darius. " Surely none 
 of my New Zealand friends come down from London — I could almost 
 fancy I heard the war song." 
 
 Mr. Fitzurse turned pale, and began to perspire. 
 
 *' There's a large congregation," said Dr. Hookham. 
 
 " Larger than you ever preached to, Hookham," replied the peer, 
 marching on steadily. 
 
 " It's like a select vestry," said the clerk. 
 
 " Not very select, I should think," said the peer, who perfectly well 
 knew who were the personages before him. " If it wasn't a wedding- 
 day I'd send them away by fire this time ; I sent them away by water 
 the last. The dogs have broken their word with me. Come along — 
 come along. Walk up into the front, Mr. Darius What's-your-name ; 
 perhaps I may give you an opportunity of eating an enemy, according 
 to your civilized customs over the water." 
 
 " My lord, I shall be delighted," said Mr. Darius, laying his hand 
 upon his heart. " Have you got such a thing as a scalping-knife about 
 you, Fitzurse ?" 
 
 " No," cried Mr. Fitzurse, in a tremulous tone. " Hang me if that 
 fellow's not enough to freeze one's marrow !" 
 
 " By jingo !" cried the peer, " I know how I'll settle it : I'll invite 
 them all to dinner ; and if I don't make old Longmore so drunk that 
 he shan't know his pigtail from a stick of celery, never trust to my 
 claret again." 
 
 While this interesting and instructive conversation was going on, the 
 bridal party was gradually approaching nearer and nearer to the 
 terrace of Outrun Castle ; and as they did so, they saw surrounding 
 the building, in not a very regular line, magistrates and constables 
 innumerable, with the intervals between filled up by the flower of 
 "young Outrun.'* The doors of the castle were closely shut, but 
 at the windows appeared manifold servants' heads, looking out and 
 laughing defiance at the posse comitatus below. The moment, how- 
 ever, the viscount and those who were with him appeared, half-a-dozen 
 magistrates turned their horses* heads and rode towards him, apparently 
 with very hostile thoughts ; but the sight of white gloves and white 
 ribands, and all the signals and symptoms of a wedding, seemed to 
 strike them with some awe and surprise. However, they pursued 
 their course, and as they came up each vociferated his adjuration to 
 Viscount Outrun. 
 
 " I insist, my lord " cried Mr. Longmore. 
 
 " Lord Outrun, I command, in the name of the law " said Mr. 
 
 Puddenstream. 
 
404 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 " I wish your lordship would have done with this work,'* cried 
 another. 
 
 " It's all no use, you must give her up at last," cried a third. 
 
 " Open the doors of the castle, my lord, sic jiibeo, sic volo" said 
 Mr. Fotundity, in an impressive tone. 
 
 " Sick ! My good friend Rotundity," said the peer, with a funny 
 twinkle of his eye, " you don't look sick." 
 
 " Well might your lordship laugh at them," said Mr. Longshanks, 
 " for a pack of the greatest fools that ever oppressed a county bench, 
 if your lordship was not a greater fool than any of them. Do you 
 think, sir, that these pranks can last for ever ; and that, after having 
 brought disgrace upon your name, and discredit upon your house, they 
 will not bring punishment upon your person ? Sometimes we excuse 
 in a young man faults and follies, even when they display little better 
 than the wit of an idiot, or the conduct of a blackguard ; because 
 Christian charity is fain to hope that time will give him some small 
 sense, and virtue awaken as passion falls asleep. But when we see an 
 old man tottering on the brink of the grave committing the follies and 
 wickedness that would disgrace a boy, every expectation of amendment 
 is extinguished, and the breast finds room for nothing but repro- 
 bation." 
 
 Now, if there was a man upon the face of the earth that Viscount 
 Lord Outrun was afraid of, it was the worthy surgeon, Mr. Long- 
 shanks. But the viscount was afraid of no man upon the face of the 
 earth, and he therefore replied, bursting into a laugh at the worthy 
 surgeon's oration — '* Come, come, Longshanks, don't treat us to any 
 sermons ; you've not got the lancet or the pill-box in your hand now, 
 neither are we poor lying-in women to receive a clinical lecture from 
 the man-midwife. Gentlemen all, what is it you want ? But first of 
 all, let me introduce to you my daughter-in-law, the Honourable Mrs. 
 Fitzurse ; or, as I intend to have her called soon. Lady Fitzurse, for I 
 find there's a barony swamped in the viscounty. Come, come, Jane, 
 do not look sheepish — these are the magistrates of the county, Jane, 
 who put people in the stocks — hold up your head, and make them a 
 curtsey, like a good girl. Yes, gentlemen, you may stare — this is the 
 Honourable Mrs. Fitzurse. And now be so good as to tell me what 
 you want here ?" 
 
 *' I want my daughter Laura, sir," replied Mr. Longmore, sharply. 
 
 " We want Miss Longmore, my lord," cried the magistrates in 
 chorus. 
 
 " Then you want what you won't get," replied the peer, " for Miss 
 Longmore is not here. You may search every hole in the house and 
 out of it, from the garret to the dog-kennel, — not forgetting the fire- 
 tank, — and no Miss Longmore will you find." 
 
 "Why," cried half-a-dozen voices, "there's Joey Pike himself stand- 
 ing just behind your lordship. He saw her with his own eyes." 
 
 "What! Joey!" said the peer; "my nevy Joey? — he tells me he's 
 my nevy, gentlemen, and I dare say * its all right,' as I once heard the 
 guard of the mail say, just as he was banging off a lady's finger with 
 the door." 
 
DB LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 405 
 
 " .Toey Pike his nephew !" cried all the magistrates at once, except 
 Mr. Longshanks, wiio burst into a violent fit of laughter. 
 
 Joey was in no slight degree of agitation, not alone at the public 
 announcement of his new dignity, but at the allusion to his discovery 
 of Laura in Outrun Castle — an allusion which he thought might do him 
 injury in the eyes of his dearly-beloved relations. He was soon 
 relieved, however, for the peer took no farther notice of the subject, 
 merely saying — 
 
 " Well, all I can tell you is, gentlemen, that she isn't there ; and you 
 are welcome to search the house from top to bottom, if you please, only 
 taking care to scrape your feet before you come in." 
 
 " But shall we be safe ?" cried Mr. Rotundity. " TuiuSj my lord, 
 tutus r' 
 
 " No more tanks," cried Mr. Puddenstream ; " no more tanks, my 
 lord?" 
 
 " You shall be quite safe, upon my honour," replied the peer, moving 
 towards the terrace ; " nay, more, you shall every one of you dine with 
 me : and then if she is in the house, you must find her you know ;" 
 and turning round upon the steps which he had now reached, with the 
 wedding-party arranged on either side, and the magistrates and con- 
 stables in front, he stretched forth his hand and addressed them in the 
 tone of an orator. 
 
 " Friends, magistrates, constables, boys and girls,*^ he said, " on 
 this auspicious day, when the heir of Outrun unites his destiny for 
 life to the fair object of his tenderest affections, and the remote 
 image of a long line of illustrious progeny presents itself unto my 
 eyes, I think it becomes me to open a new era in my life, and, by a 
 solemn act of oblivion for all former offences, to ensure to my 
 neighbours peace and good will from me for the future. At the same 
 time, I claim the same at their hands, and I declare that henceforth 
 a different course shall be pursued at Outrun Castle. Drunkenness 
 shall be abolished through the week, and only indulged in on Saturday 
 night, when Hookham here will preach all the better for an additional 
 bottle ; and I shall fill my pew with the greater dignity of somnolence. 
 Freddy, the married man, shall behave himself as becometh that capa- 
 city ; and my friend, Tom Hamilton, now coming up, shall shoot, fish, 
 and thrash the gamekeepers no more than is lawful. While we are 
 occasionally visited by strangers, such as the tall gentleman on my 
 right, or the thin, black mazzarded man now putting his head out of 
 the window, they shall behave themselves with decorum. Fais ce que 
 tu voudras, shall be no longer the motto of Outrun Castle ; and we 
 will be so sober, solemn, silent, and severe, that my good friend. Long- 
 shanks, there, shall lose half his fees ; and the Methodist parson shall 
 leave off" preaching at me, as I ride past the door of the conventicle. 
 But in the meantime, oh, dearly beloved friends, this one night shall be 
 given up to jollity. The magistrates shall dine with me in the dining- 
 hall — the constables shall dine in the servants* -hall — the oi polloi and 
 the leetle children shall dine upon the terrace — immemorial pipes of 
 port, and antiquated ale, which has seen many a long October, shall 
 flow like water, till every man shall feel his sides fatter, and his nose 
 
406 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 brighter to-morrow morning. Then we'll drink the king's health in 
 loyal bumpers — we'll drink one and another's health with friendly con- 
 viviality — we'll make long speeches about nothing at all, till all our 
 neighbours are tired, and begin to talk — and we'll have songs sung by 
 voices that shall set all our teeth on edge. Every man shall clip the king's 
 English as much as he pleases, and we'll end the evening with a hip, 
 hip, hurra for the bride and bridegroom. Now, ladies, gentlemen, and 
 magistrates, walk in, for we'll do all this — ^by jingo, we will." 
 
 Mr. de Lunatico, who had just come up, put his hand into his pocket, 
 and pulled out a ticket, saying to himself — 
 
 " That man is too clever, so to misuse his abilities, without being 
 insane." 
 
 Tom Hamilton, at the same moment, drew Mr. Longmore aside, and 
 spoke to him eagerly for a moment ; and Mr. Longshanks, with a 
 cynical smile, rubbed his hands, and said — 
 
 " I'll dine with him, though I hate these junketings ; but something 
 very extraordinary must come out of this straTige affair." 
 
 And the peer led the way into the castle. 
 
 CHAPTER LXVH. 
 
 HOW THE CHEVALIER AND MB. LONaMORB HEARD NEWS OF LAURA — HOW THB 
 
 CHEVALIER GAVE THE GO-BY TO THE MAGISTRATES A DISQUISITION UPON 
 
 fleas' KNEES AND KANGAROOS* TAILS THE SIEGE AND DEFENCE OF MISS 
 
 ROTUNDITY, AND HOW HER FORTKLSS WAS SUCCOURED. 
 
 Now, it is one of the best ways in the world of bringing about incidents 
 and happy hits, points, and catastrophes in a romance, tale, story, or 
 novel, to make Mr. A., while talking secretly to Mr. B., be overheard 
 by Mr. C, who, though he stands so near him in the alphabet, is always 
 Mr. B.'s inveterate enemy. This not being a romance, however, but a 
 very true and veracious history, as the reader must long ago have per- 
 ceived, no such thing can be expected to take place therein ; and we 
 venture to say, that not one of the characters ever overheard, acci- 
 dentally or intentionally, the least piece of news affecting each other, 
 in the whole coiu-se of their mutual and several lives. Accidental 
 eaves-dropping is very nearly as bad as accidental robbery — a sort of 
 thing that does not happen unintentionally ; and the Chevalier de 
 Lunatico, perceiving that he was somewhat nearer to Mr. Longmore 
 and Tom Hamilton than was quite safe for their secret, drew two or 
 three steps back, and was going to follow the viscount and the rest into 
 the house, when Mr. Longmore, swinging round his head with a joyous 
 wave of the pigtail, exclaimed — 
 
 " Chevalier, chevalier ! here's capital news : Laura has been over- 
 turned in a stage coach." 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIHENDO. 407 
 
 The chevalier thrust his hand into his breeches pocket, seeking for 
 another billet to bestow upon his friend Mr. Longmore, for lie thought 
 the symptoms of the case must be decided, when the excellent philoso- 
 pher could rejoice in such a catastrophe. At the same time, Tom 
 Hamilton made a sign to Mr. Longmore not to speak so loud, and that 
 excellent old gentleman, dropping his voice, proceeded to inform the 
 chevalier that the cause of his satisfaction was, that he had at length 
 ascertained his daughter's temporary abode, which was the little inn at 
 Oxborough, not far from which the stage had been overturned by its 
 mad driver. 
 
 " I will go and find her immediately," added Mr. Longmore ; "and 
 111 take Harry Worrel with me." 
 
 " That is exactly what I wish to prevent," replied Tom Hamilton. 
 " Fve a word or two to say to Mr. Worrel, for which I must choose a 
 proper moment." 
 
 " No new folly, no new folly, I hope, young man," said ISIr. Long- 
 more ; " no more fighting, or you shall rue it." 
 
 " Oh no," answered Tom Hamilton, " there's no folly or fighting in 
 it, either, unless good luck be fighting, and truth be folly." 
 
 " Truth, my dear sir," said the natural philosopher — " truth is an 
 abstract proposition ; simple, undoubted, absolute truth, such as, * a 
 whole is greater than a part.' It is axiomatic. Thus, I say, all right 
 angles are equal to each other. Now, when I want to take an observa- 
 tion of the sun " 
 
 " Perhaps, my dear friend," said the chevalier, " if you were to take 
 an observation of the sun just now, you would see that he is not far 
 from the meridian ; and, as you have got to go far, and I should like 
 to accompany you — at least part of the way — it may be as well to set 
 out." 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha I" cried Mr. Longmore, bursting out into one of his old 
 cheerful laughs — " so it may, chevalier, so it may. But one likes to 
 instruct young people, you know ; it does them good, it does them good 
 to hear a little reason ; for, as every plant wants water, so does that 
 extraordinary plant, the human mind, require irrigation of its particular 
 kind. But come, let us get upon our horses again. We'll have a 
 chaise at Outrun, pay the boy well, and be back to dinner." 
 
 " Holloa, chevalier ! where are you going ?" cried the voice of Mr. 
 Longshanks, as soon as the commissioner put his foot in the stirrup — 
 " you'll be wanted in a minute. Jerry Tripe is sent for, and, if you 
 have a mind to have him committed for the robbery, you must stay and 
 swear that he is the man who stopped you in the lane." 
 
 *' I would rather not," replied the chevalier, swinging himself into 
 the saddle ; " I should not like to swear to such a fact." 
 
 *' Take care that Puddenstream don't hear you," said Mr. Long- 
 shanks ; " for he would tell you in a minute that the laws of the country 
 are not to be trifled with, and that there are such things as misprison, 
 condonation, covin, and a thousand other strange terms, the meaning of 
 which he knows not in the least ; just as my parrot says, * God save King 
 Charles,* without at all knowing that one unfortunate king of that name 
 had his head chopped off not two centuries ago, and that the other ha^l 
 
4 OS THE commissioker; or, 
 
 a head which, though not worth the chopping, might just as well have 
 been where his father's was for all the good it ever did his people. 
 What I mean is, chevalier, that in this country people are not allowed 
 to swear and not swear just when they like. I think you have already 
 taken an oath that he was the man who robbed you." 
 
 " No, no !" replied Mr. de Lunatico — " I swore I had great suspi- 
 cions that he was the man ; but 1 have had the pleasure of seeing him 
 twice since, and I now say I will not swear to him." 
 
 " Oh ho, is it so ?" said Mr. liOngshanks, with a shrewd and some- 
 what impatient look. " I understand you, sir ; and, as child's play is 
 not fit for magistrates, I shall at once move that he be discharged as 
 soon as he is brought up." 
 
 " That may be a good plan," replied the chevalier, calmly taking his 
 coat-tails out from between his nether man and the saddle. 
 
 " Hark ye, chevalier," said Mr. Longshanks, approaching him ; **have 
 you really got hold of the true story ? or are you, too, such an ass as 
 to be deceived by a piece of Tom-foolery ?" 
 
 " I have got hold of the true story," replied the chevalier, drily, 
 " and am not deceived by the Tom-foolery, as you will find when I 
 return." 
 
 " If that's the case," said Mr. Longshanks, turning abruptly into 
 the house, " I will have every thing ready for you." 
 
 Tom Hamilton smiled grimly as he heard all this enigmatical con- 
 versation, but uttered not a word. The chevalier and Mr. Longmore 
 nodded to him kindly, and then, putting spurs to their steeds, set out at 
 a good pace for the great gates of the park. At the sign of the Half 
 Moon they got into a chaise ; and, just as Mrs. Muggins was curtsey- 
 ing them ofi', a boy came up from Outrun Castle, requesting that lady 
 to give Mr. Longshanks the pleasure of her company at the mansion 
 towards the hour of seven. The chevalier smiled as he heard the invi- 
 tation, and the chaise rolled off" towards Oxborough. 
 
 Grave and important was the conversation between Mr. de Lunatico 
 and Mr. Longmore, the whole of which we would willingly detail to the 
 reader, but that already the book is waxing, like Falstaff, thick in the 
 girth, and we must therefore confine ourselves to the mere heads. They 
 first began talking about starry nebulae, and then deviated into fleas. 
 This produced a grand discussion upon the spring contrivance which 
 enables fleas to take so extensive a scope in their hop proceedings; and 
 then, again, an ingenious comparison was instituted between the knees 
 of a flea's hind leg and the base of a kangaroo's tail, which ended in a 
 decision favourable to the flea, Mr. Longmore proving, to the satisfac- 
 tion of the chevalier, that whereas the kangaroo could, at the most, 
 spring fifteen times his own length, the flea, by the best computation, 
 could hop five hundred and forty times his own length, in a direct line — 
 even when out of practice — which, allowing for the parabolic curve 
 described by the flea's course, would give a much greater extent. Mr. 
 Longmore then accurately explained to his companion the nature of a 
 sort of seven-league boots, constructed upon the same principle as the 
 flea's knee, which would enable a man to take at one skip, upon an 
 average, the distance of three thousand two hundred and forty feet, 
 
-■■-itW 
 
 w 
 
 : -1^^'^^ 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. , 409 
 
 which, as he justly observed, would greatly facilitate the marching of 
 armies. 
 
 " Do you not think," asked the chevalier, in a mild and inquiring 
 tone, " that one might break one's legs or one's neck in coming down ?** 
 
 " The boots must be provided with feather-bed soles," replied Mr. 
 Longmore. 
 
 " I understand," said the chevalier ; " shoe your troop of horse 
 with felt." 
 
 The conversation then rambled to frogs, and thence naturally pro- 
 ceeded to toads ; then, by an easy transition, to holes, and thence to 
 worms. Mines came next ; and, as the stars are said from the bottom 
 of a deep pit to be visible to the human eye at midday, so did Mr. 
 Longmore turn his thoughts, upon the pivot of internal fires, from the 
 bottom of a coal mine to the subject of planetary motion, explaining 
 to the chevalier all that would take place if the order of the universe 
 were altered or suspended, even for a moment. To have heard him 
 talk you would have supposed that he had had a finger in creation, 
 though he did not go to quite the blasphemous lengths of a certain 
 Spanish king, who much wished to simplify God's own handiwork. 
 
 From the stars the excellent philosopher dropped suddenly into some 
 fishpond, and he was conversing on this interesting topic, when he 
 paused for an instant to put his head out of the carriage, saying, 
 " That's our friend Rotundity's place." 
 
 They were passing at the moment some neat park palling, and as 
 the chevalier followed his friend's example and looked out, the ears 
 of both were astounded by a loud scream from within the enclosure. 
 The chaise was instantly stopped, both gentlemen sprang out, the 
 chevalier vaulted over the palling, Mr. Longmore got upon the top, 
 and by aid of the postillion's two hands applied to the part of his 
 person which he most exposed in the scramble, he was pushed into the 
 enclosure ; when following in the chevalier's wake he soon came to a 
 little green lawn, amongst the trees, whence a second or third scream 
 had just proceeded. 
 
 The sight that presented itself, when Mr. de Lunatico entered this 
 shady blest retreat, had something both awful and ludicrous in it ; for 
 there, in a summer-house constructed with the ribs of a Greenland 
 whale, surmounted by the pelvis of some extinct mammalia, stood Miss 
 Serpentaria Rotundity, with no other person than fair Laura Long- 
 more herself behind her, and both undergoing the attack of a wild 
 and furious-looking man, armed with a large stick. 
 
 But let it not be supposed that Miss Rotundity weakly yielded to 
 womanly fear, for on the contrary, accustomed to contemplate the 
 monstrous creations of remote ages, man seemed a dwarf to her ex- 
 panded mind, and in comparison with her mammothian and mastodonic 
 friends, the madman before her was no more than a snarling lap dog. 
 Holding in one hand the tibia of a fossil elk, which formed no 
 inconsiderable club, she protended in the other the ivory horn of an 
 immense narwhal, as a sort of pike Avith which she kept the assailant 
 at bay, giving liim some tremendous pokes as he attempted to rush at her. 
 Laura, for her part, contented herself with screaming, and the perti- 
 
410 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 nacious madman still endeavoured to pass through the narrow opening 
 which Miss Rotundity so gallantly defended, exclaiming, " I will 
 have her ! He shall not marry her I He shall marry no one but 
 
 our poor Betty ! I'll have his blood ! Ah, here are the vermin 
 
 coming," he continued, seeing the chevalier appear, and, very nearly at 
 the same moment, two or three servants from the house, alarmed at the 
 screams which they had heard ; " but I'll have you — I'll have her 
 another time." And away he darted into the wood, leaving Miss 
 Rotundity a little out of breath with the exertions she had made in 
 defence of her position, and Laura ready to drop with terror at this 
 new encounter with the madman. 
 
 The next moment, however, the honest, round, intelligent, but 
 somewhat self-satisfied countenance of her father appeared from 
 amongst the trees, and springing to his arms, Laura was soon caught 
 in the well-known embrace, the kindly pressure of which she had not 
 felt for many a long and weary day. 
 
 " Ah, Longmore," cried Miss Rotundity, " is that you ? and the 
 chevalier too, 1 declare. Why, chevalier, you are quite a knight 
 errant, coming to deliver two distressed damsels. But you shall be 
 rewarded for your pains ; I'll show you some splendid specimens of 
 oolites, and neophites, and hiveites that young Jones, the incubus 
 
 of the parish, has sent me Run, Tom, run, and you'll catch him 
 
 by the west gate. He's as mad as a march hare, that's clear.'* 
 
 The latter part of the speech was addressed to all and sundry the 
 footmen who now came up from the house, and who thereupon began 
 the pursuit of poor Trollop the postman, but unfortunately without 
 success ; for with the cunning which is not only compatible with mad- 
 ness, but almost inseparable from it, he pursued his way with so many 
 turnings and windings that, like a skilful Reynard before a young pack 
 of hounds, he soon left the chace far on one side. 
 
 In the meanwhile Laura Longmore had told her father how glad 
 she was to see him — on which point he did not doubt her in the least ; 
 and had then begun a hurried account of all her adventures, when the 
 chevalier assured Miss Rotundity that it would give him the most 
 exquisite satisfaction to see her oolites and her neophites, but he feared 
 that he and his friend would not have time to stay, as they had pro- 
 mised to dine at Outrun Castle, and must consequently get back 
 to keep their engagement. 
 
 " I am determined," said Mr. Longmore, "not to let my dear Laura be 
 out of my sight for five minutes any more till she is married, and there- 
 fore I shall take her with me to Outrun this very night. Miss Rotundity, 
 with many thanks for the kind hospitality which she tells me you have 
 shown her since she came here from Oxborough. My dear chevalier, 
 if you would but call up the post chaise to the house, we'll just ask 
 Miss Rotundity to give us a glass of wine and a biscuit, and then we'll 
 return to Outrun with as little delay as possible. You are agitated, 
 my dear lady, you are agitated with this terrible attack of that un- 
 happy man, -whom they ought to have kept, as I ordered them, twelve 
 months ago — you are agitated, and no wonder ; so the least possible 
 quantity of Madeira will do you no harm, or Laura either." 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 411 
 
 " Agitated ?" cried Miss Rotundity, in an indignant tone : " I am 
 not agitated in the slightest degree, I am as cool as a coprolite ; and I 
 think I defended the place very tolerably considering. My only fear 
 was that my horn might break, and then I might have been obliged to 
 take to my thigh bone, which would have been dangerous. Don't 
 go, don't go, chevalier ! Tom shall order up the chaise. Mr. Long- 
 more, I will take your arm. Chevalier, you shall beau the young 
 lady." 
 
 The chevalier was no way slack in following the hint of Miss 
 Rotundity, and as the paths were somewhat narrow he contrived with 
 a sort of lover-like manoeuvering to linger somewhat behind, pouring 
 low-toned words into Laura's ear, and answering some quick and eager 
 questions which she addressed to him. Let not the suspicious reader, 
 however, suppose that our excellent friend the chevalier was at all 
 disposed to play Harry Worrel false, even if his years and character 
 had not been impediments. He had a strong regard for Laura, it is 
 true, but his was altogether a platonic affection, as the reader may 
 very well suppose — for every one knows that platonic affections are 
 mere matters of moonshine. However in the present instance he had 
 remarked Laura turn a little pale, as Mr. Longmore announced his 
 intention of not losing sight of her for five minutes till she was 
 married, and coupled this annunciation with the determination of 
 taking her immediately to Outrun Castle ; and the chevalier perceiving 
 with his peculiar tact all that was passing in the young lady's mind, 
 began the conversation with a jocose account of the marriage of Mr. 
 Fitzurse, and informed her that his and her young friend, Harry 
 Worrel, not know.ing that her father was coming to seek her, had 
 remained behind at Outrun Castle watching the proceedings. 
 
 In short, the chevalier conducted the affair of explanation in the most 
 delicate and dexterous manner that diplomatist could dream of. He 
 removed her apprehensions, he soothed her agitation, he deprived her 
 fears of their object, he gave her news of her lover without shaking 
 her nerves, and he perfectly reconciled her to the idea of returning to 
 Outrun Castle, though half an hour before she would have regarded 
 such a proceeding with horror. 
 
 Such being the case, and the biscuit being eaten, the Madeira 
 swallowed, and the chaise brought round, Laura was soon equipped 
 for her journey by the aid, and with some of the clothes, of her 
 kind hostess, and the whole party set off on their return, taking an 
 affectionate leave of Miss Serpentaria Rotundity. Now, we shall also 
 beg leave to do the same, not in the least doubting that if it should 
 fall out in the order of nature — or rather the disorder — that she 
 should ever be imbedded in a stratum of blue lias, overwhelmed in 
 some silicious deposit, or even surrounded by grey wacke, her fossil- 
 lized bones will form the principal ornament of the cabinet of some 
 unborn geologist, when a race of beings probably totally different 
 from ourselves shall have succeeded to the human species, and which, 
 for aught we know, may have two heads, and ten fingers on each hand 
 with other striking improvements on the original type. 
 
412 TUE commissioner; on, 
 
 CHAPTER LXVIII. 
 
 now THB PEER SHOWED HIS GENIUS FOB JUNKETINO HOW TOM HAUIlTO!f 
 
 AND HARRY WOBREL WEBB MADE FRIENDS HOW JBRBT TRIPE WAS FRXED 
 
 FROM HIS PERIL, AND HOW MR. DARIUS INCITED UIM TO SOME UNKNOWN 
 SPECIES OF ASSASSINATION. 
 
 Great were the doings at Outrun Castle, and it is wonderful with 
 ■what rapidity preparations were made, orders executed, decisions taken, 
 tables elongated, butts broached, corks drawn, fires kindled, illumina- 
 tions made ready, and a great bonfire piled up in the park. 
 
 The peer had a genius for such things, and under the inspiring aspect 
 of his rosy countenance, from which shone, as his panegyrists would 
 have had it, mingled good-humour and dignity, promptitude united with 
 grace, and I'un with stateliness, all went on as rapidly and jovially as 
 possible. Every man did his best, and every woman assumed that sweet, 
 important, tittering alacrity which is always observable in the fair sex 
 whenever any of those peculiar events take place in which woman holds 
 an important part, such as births and marriages. The gamekeepers 
 forgot their drubbing ; the maids forgot the insult to their boxes ; 
 even the cook, though of an irate disposition, laid by her resentments, 
 and prepared to cook a dinner without any of the gentle condiments of 
 buckthorn, jalap, or ipecacuanha. The butcher spoke not of his bill, 
 but agreed to take one of the fat bullocks out of Outrun park in 
 exchange for one he had killed four days before ; and the merry bells, 
 ringing from the steeple, sounded as sweetly over Outrun as if the 
 marriage-party had consisted of all the best and wisest and most inno- 
 cent people in the world. 
 
 The magistrates crowded the library, assembling in little knots of 
 two and three ; the special constables amused themselves upon the 
 terrace ; and the boys shouted and gambolled in the park ; while the 
 rosy face and red velvet night-cap of the peer were seen in every place 
 in turn, diff'using sunshine round. It is true that sunshine of another 
 kind was not wanting, for the day was as fair a one as ever was seen, 
 the air balmy, the clouds few and light ; and poor Jane, if she drew 
 her auguries from the sky, might have judged her wedding-day but 
 the commencement of a long series of happy years — while all the time 
 Fate sat in his dark corner whetting his knife. 
 
 Amongst other events of the morning, Tom Hamilton walked up to 
 Harry Worrell with that sort of frank and kindly bearing which it is 
 not very easy to resist even in one whom we do not like ; and holding 
 out his hand, he said — 
 
 " Come, Mr. vVorrell, let you and I be friends. We have once met 
 upon a very disagreeable occasion ; but I can assure you that none 
 
DB liUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 413 
 
 of the events which led to that meeting, nor indeed any of those which 
 have since followed, have had my sanction — but, on the contrary, my 
 most decided opposition. You will believe me, I am sure, when I give 
 you my honour that such is the case.'* 
 
 Worrel gave him his band, but at the same time he could not refrain 
 from saying — 
 
 " I think it a pity, Mr. Hamilton, if such were your feelings, that 
 you countenanced the proceedings of Mr. Fitzurse by coming with him 
 to the ground.'* 
 
 " Oh, those are cases, my dear sir," replied Tom Hamilton, " in 
 which one must stand by a friend, be he right or wrong. Fitzurse had 
 no one to go with him, I was down here, you know, and there's 
 
 capital shooting and fishing here, and so you see But, to change the 
 
 subject, I have got some good news for you, only you must promise 
 not to bolt, for there is a great deal to be done here to-night, and we 
 shall want your assistance." 
 
 " I really do not know what good I can be of here," replied Harry 
 Worrel. " I feel myself very much out of my element, I can assure 
 you ; and, indeed, my wits have scarcely recovered their equipoise 
 since I discovered this most astounding marriage of yoyr friend with 
 the pretty housemaid. He certainly gave me most distinctly to under- 
 stand that he was a suitor for the hand of Miss Longmore." 
 
 " Pooh ! that was all his father's doing," cried Tom Hamilton — 
 " compulsion, my dear sir, compulsion — the pressure from without ! 
 which in matrimony, as well as in politics, has more to do with the 
 matter than people are at all aware of. Look through the register of 
 St. George's, Hanover-square, and tell me how many of the marriages 
 there have been made from motives of pure affection — how many have 
 been brought about by some of the many ever-acting impellants which 
 are continually driving men forward towards that holy state without 
 love having any thing to do with it. Interest, ambition, vanity, folly, 
 fear, shame, disappointment, recklessness, despair — such is the crowd 
 around th€ vestry-door, driving in ten to one that little Love leads 
 quietly in by the hand. How many, I say, should we find hurried into 
 marriage by such motives, if we could see the hearts as well as the 
 names in the marriage-register." 
 
 "It would be a long account I fear," said Harry Worrel with a sigh. 
 
 " It is a long account," replied Tom Hamilton, " and the balance is 
 struck in the ecclesiastical courts. 'Tis an easy roll from St. George's 
 to Doctor's Commons. But I have told you the truth. Nothing but 
 some such motive would have ever induced Fitzurse to enter into the 
 respectable condition of a married man." 
 
 " Pray what may be the motive now ?" demanded Worrel with a 
 smile. 
 
 But Tom, though he could not help a light laugh at the thought of 
 the war-dance of the Tonga islands, was true to his friend, and did not 
 hint at the strong persuasions of Mr. Darius. 
 
 " Come," he said, " let me introduce him to you, and make you 
 friends. I see him there in the other room with a c^ertain travelled 
 
414 THE COMMISSIONER J OR, 
 
 gentleman, said to be a cousin of his bride's, who has very peculiar 
 notions, so that Fitzurse is looking anxiously for me to divide the fire." 
 
 " But the good news ? the good news ?' said Worrel ; " if it refers 
 to Miss Longmore, and my mind is set at ease upon her account, you 
 may do what you will with me for the rest of the day." 
 
 " Well, it does refer to her," replied Tom Hamilton, " and she is 
 safe and sound. I myself helped her out of a difficulty yesterday, and 
 I have since heard she is safe and well at Oxborough." 
 
 Worrel looked round for his hat which he had laid down, but Tom 
 Hamilton caught him by the arm saying, " You promised to stay ! — 
 Her father and the chevalier have gone for her, and I think you will 
 soon see her here." 
 
 " But a difficulty," said Worrel ; " you say you aided her in a dif- 
 ficulty — may 1 ask the circumstances ?" 
 
 " Oh, it was nothing," replied Tom Hamilton, who, like all men of 
 his calibre, made light of the best things he did ; " I found her attacked 
 by five blackguards, so I floored two of them and a madman coming 
 up to help me the rest took to their heels. But come, my dear sir, 
 Fitzurse is beckoning to me." 
 
 Worrel, however, shook his hand warmly, thanking him with feel- 
 ings that only a lover's heart can know, and just as they were going 
 into the next room, who should appear in the library but Jeremiah 
 Tripe in the profane hands of two constables. 
 
 Jerry's face was to say sooth as jolly as ever, and his nose no less 
 resplendent than upon former occasions, though his beard wanted a 
 touch of razor or axarite, and his face might have been improved in 
 hue by some soap and water. He cast a half merry, half anxious 
 glance around, for, to speak the truth, he was rather alarmed about 
 various matters. 
 
 The moment he appeared, however, the magistrates formed them- 
 selves round the table, and the peer, coming in hot from some of his 
 joyful preparations, took Jerry by the hand, looking in his face with a 
 somewhat serious shake of the head. 
 
 " Well, my lord, I could not help it,*^ said Jerry ; " the cat was out 
 of the bag before I pulled the string." 
 
 " How did she get out ?" demanded the peer. 
 
 " By a hole in the bottom," answered Jerry Tripe ; and the two 
 seeming perfectly to understand each other, the magistrates proceeded 
 to business. 
 
 The prosecutor was called, but did not appear ; he was called a 
 second time, but no voice answered. 
 
 " I propose that he be remanded for further examination," said Mr. 
 Puddenstream ; "the ends of justice must not be frustrated." 
 
 " Fiddlestick's ends !" said Mr. Longshanks. " I myself heard the 
 chevalier declare that he would not or could not swear to the man. 
 So did you, Tom Hamilton. Let the man be discharged." 
 
 " But I contend, sir," said Mr. Puddenstream, " that this here is 
 neither more nor less than confounding of felony." 
 
 *' I would have sworn it !" said Mr. Longshanks. " But we'll put 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 415 
 
 the matter to the vote. What do you say, Rotundity ? You, John- 
 ston ? You, Winckworth ? You, Mr. Shrimpseye ? Discharged ! 
 Let the man be discharged. Where's that fool of a clerk ? Let the 
 warrant be discharged, sir. Constables, set him free on payment of 
 fees." 
 
 Mr. Puddenstream entered his protest, and made a speech ; but in 
 the meantime Jerry Tripe was discharged from custody, and the peer, 
 without suffering him to take a moment's repose, slapped him on the 
 shoulder, exclaiming — 
 
 " Come, Jerry ! To the cellar ! to the cellar ! There are plenty of 
 things to do, and no time to do them. Broach the '89, set the ale 
 a-flowing, bring up a hundred bottles of port, and claret in proportion ; 
 don't forget the champagne and the cote roti, a little Maraschino de 
 Zara, and all the rest ! Away with you, Jerry ! away with you ! By 
 jingo, we'll have all the parish as drunk as Chloe 1'* 
 
 Jerry hastened to obey, but just as he got into the hall, Mr. Darius, 
 with an eager and ogreish expression of countenance, approached him 
 at a rapid pace — Mr. Fitzurse pulling the tails of his coat in vain. 
 The tall man grasped Jerry's arm and whispered two or three sen- 
 tences to him with a solemn and secret air. Jerry looked up at length 
 with a benignant smile, replying aloud — 
 
 " Certainly, sir ! certainly ! I will have one killed immediately !'* 
 
 " Make yourself easy, my dear cousin," said Mr. Darius, turning 
 to the hopeful heir of the house of Outrun with a patronizing air — 
 " Make yourself easy ! he will have one killed immediately !" 
 
 Mr. Fitzurse retreated into the other room, but the words of his new 
 relation did not seem to have the effect of making him easy, for he was 
 as pale as death, and seemed somewhat sick at the stomach. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIX. 
 
 HOW JOET PIKK ASSUMED HIS DIGNITY — HOW THE TRUTH CAME OUT HOW 
 
 HARBT WOKBEL RECEIVED GREAT BENKFIT FP^OM THOMAS HAMILTON, E8(i 
 
 AND HOW HE APPEABED IN A NEW CHABACTEB. 
 
 Still the preparations went on at Outrun Castle, still every body was 
 in a bustle, still cricket was played in the park, still the little boys 
 pinched each other, and the little girls chatted together in corners and 
 pointed to the windows of the castle, and still the cooks and scullions 
 were all as busy as the under-ground gentlemen in white caps men- 
 tioned in that veracious history — " Ricquet with the Tuft." But where 
 was Joey Pike — where was grand Joey ? 
 
 Joey for the time had absconded. Although he had that morning 
 dressed himself in what he conceived to be the most exquisite and 
 appropriate style, for the purpose he had in view, for the touching, for 
 
416 THE COMMrSSIONER ; OR, 
 
 the tender, for the pathetic, he now felt, with that delicate perception 
 of the harmony of all things for which he was conspicuous, that the 
 same dress was not becoming and adapted to his new position as the 
 acknowledged nephew of Viscount Outrun, and he therefore hurried 
 away to Market Greenford, where in the shop of a general provider 
 of habiliments he furnished himself, from some money he had saved out 
 of what the chevalier had given him, with a neat pair of black tights, silk 
 stockings, and shoes. His blue coat he thought would do, but a white 
 waistcoat was added in honour of the wedding, and as it was rather too 
 large in the girth, and descended too far upon the lumbar and abdominal 
 regions — a thing that Joey Pike, in his exquisite notions of costume, 
 could by no means tolerate — he waited till it was altered. 
 
 He then went to the shop of a printer, and forgetting that he must 
 have had a father, though he did not know who that father was, he 
 ordered a hundred cards to be struck off, with the simple inscription 
 of " ^r» J^iiinv^t.** If he had dared he would have put a note of 
 admiration after it. 
 
 " When does your master want them ?" asked the printer, who knew 
 Joey's face as well as that of the stage coachman. 
 
 " My master ?" said Joey with a supercilious air : " I have no master ! 
 I am my own maetero. The cards are for myself. I am Mr. Fitzurse V* 
 
 " Why, Joey, you are mad," said the printer. 
 
 " You will find yourself mistaken," replied Joey with a cold and 
 contemptuous air. "When the cards are done send them up to 
 Outrun Castle ; say they are for his lordship's nephew — Mr. Joseph 
 Fitzurse, not the Honourable Henry Frederic Augustus." 
 
 The printer stared till his eyes looked like those of a strangulated 
 mouse, and Joey having produced the exact effect which he could have 
 most desired, left the shop, and, followed by the boy bearing his bundle, 
 returned by the most private ways to Outrun Castle, sneaked in by 
 the back door, up the back staircase, and into one of the untenanted 
 rooms, where he prepared to perform the ceremonies of his toilet with 
 the utmost precision. But alack-and-a-well-a-day, he suddenly dis- 
 covered that he had committed a great oversight. His hair — his beautiful, 
 flowing hair — was dry and rough. 
 
 What could he do ? The little boy was still standing gazing at him 
 in great admiration, and Joey took him tenderly by the hand, saying, 
 
 " Wilt thou speed back, mon gar^on^ to the village of Outrun, and 
 ask Signora Muggins of the Half Moon to give you a small bottle of 
 huile antique^ which stands on the window sill in the back attick 
 behind a broken circular looking-glass ? You know what I mean — 
 huile antique.'* 
 
 " Oh I know quite well," replied the boy. " You mean hule antick 
 — they sells it at Thomson's, next door but one to our shop. I'll fetch 
 it in a minute.'* 
 
 But the faithless boy's minute proved three quarters of an hour at 
 least, and Joey Pike's toilet was not concluded till the hour of dinner 
 was near at hand. Then, however, with one last look at the glass to 
 satisfy himself that he was perfection, he descended in his own incom- 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 417 
 
 pArable manner, displaying more exquisite attitudes upon one flight 
 of stairs than can be found in the galleries of Florence, Rome, and 
 Naples. 
 
 With conscious dignity, with the expectation of striking all dumb 
 by his charming deportment, but yet with a slight flutter from the con- 
 viction that all eyes and thoughts would be upon him in an instant, Joey 
 entered the drawing-room of Outrun Castle, which by this time was 
 crowded by gentlemen waiting for their dinner. All the magistrates who 
 had proceeded to the attack of the castle were there, the chevalier and 
 Mr. Longmore had returned, Dr. Hookham had brought his lady, and 
 a young lady friend of hers, to give grace to the scene and countenance 
 to the bride, and pretty Laura Longmore herself, dressed somewhat 
 strangely — for all her own clothes had been destroyed, as the reader well 
 knows, in the fire at Ivy Hall — but still gracefully, for she had carried her 
 taste away with her, was seated near a window looking out into the park, 
 with Tom Hamilton on one side and Harry Worrel on the other. 
 
 Laura had been just recounting to Worrel her deliverance from the 
 gamekeepers, and verifying in her own mind the proverb that " What is 
 one man's meat is another man's poison,'* by thanking her happy st^rs 
 that she was not in that situation of which poor Jane at the other side of 
 the room was as proud as a peacock. Tom Hamilton and Worrel were 
 shaking hands with each other at the conclusion of Laura's story, and Mr. 
 Longmore was standing with his pigtail elevated at an angle of forty-five 
 by the cape of his coat, his hands hooked together by the forefingers be- 
 hind his back, and his tongue glibly demonstrating to Mr. Rotundity sun- 
 dry strange propositions, to all of which the worthy alderman replied 
 by some admirable classical quotations from the same sources as 
 usual. 
 
 Joey took the first step in the room, but no eye lighted upon him. 
 Joey took the second, but nobody noticed him. At the third, Joey 
 jostled some magistrates, yet they paid not the slightest attention to 
 him. At the fourth, indignant Joey trod upon Mr. Puddenstream's toe, 
 
 and Mr. Puddenstream d d him. Frustrated at all points Joey 
 
 approached the peer, nor was he disappointed in his anticipations of 
 avuncular affection. 
 
 " Ah, Joey, my boy," cried his lordship, laying his hand on his 
 shoulder with a weight that nearly knocked him down, " where have 
 you been all this time, Joey ? Yet you were right, you were right. 
 I like modesty, though I can't say I ever had much of it myself. 
 But, by jingo, I must introduce you to my friends. Here, Mr. Long- 
 more, here, Longshanks, Puddenstream, gentlemen all, let me intro- 
 duce to you my nevy — my nevy Joey. He tells me he is my sister's 
 son by a private marriage. I dare say it's quite true, for I have heard 
 something of the kind, so I don't mean to disown him." 
 
 Joey simpered, and blushed, and looked interesting. 
 
 " Now for it," said Mr. Longshanks. 
 
 *' Ha, ha, ha!" cried Jerry Tripe, who was opening the door to 
 announce dinner, and now held both his fat sides and rolled about 
 like a humming top. " Ha, ha, ha, ha ! Ho, ho, ho, ho-! He, he, he !" 
 
 C. NO. XIV. 2 E 
 
418 THE COMMIS8IONEE ; OR, 
 
 and Jerry wept, and wiped the moisture with his knuckles from the 
 corner of his eyes. 
 
 *' Why what the devil's the matter ?" cried the peer. " By jingo, 
 you're mad, Jerry." 
 
 " Oh, ho, ho, ho, ho ! Ah, ha, ha, ha !" shouted Jerry Tripe, with 
 such unction and fun that nobody in the room could resist it, and first 
 one universal titter, and then one general roar ran round and round. 
 But the peer became furious, and Jerry seeing his master so, strove to 
 explain, his words being still broken by cachinnations. 
 
 "Joey Pike your lordship's nephew — ha, ha, ha!" cried Jerry: 
 " and you not disown him — ho, ho, ho ! Look at him in his tights 
 — he, he, he ! Lord have mercy upon us — he, he, he !" 
 
 " Why he said you did not deny it !" exclaimed the peer. *« Has the 
 scoundrel been imposing upon me ?" 
 
 " Oh no, no," cried Jerry, still moved by irresistible laughter. " It's 
 all true, it's all true. I did not deny any thing. I thought he would 
 have killed me with laughing in the black hole, but I never thought 
 the fun would fly so high as this. Lord have mercy upon us ! Joey 
 Pike your lordship's nephew! Ha, ha, ha! Why he's a by-blow of 
 old Scapulary's 1" 
 
 Every body looked at the other with amazement not unmingled with 
 merriment, while Joey Pike started b ack, stretched out his two arms 
 at full length in the same direction, which was towards Jerry Tripe's 
 nose, and shouted forth at the top of his voice " 'Tis false !" Then 
 suddenly drawing himself up into an air of dignified contempt, he 
 thrust his right hand into his breast, let the left drop by his side, and 
 rolling his eyes away from Jerry Tripe, he muttered in the accents of 
 scorn " Pas vraiT 
 
 " 'Tis not false," said Jerry Tripe, coming forward ; " and I can 
 prove it. Master Joey, if you come to that." 
 
 " Then I suppose I have got no nevy after all ?" rejoined the 
 peer, while the heart of poor Joey swelled with indignation. 
 
 " I can't say that, my lord," replied Jerry ; " nor, perhaps, is Joey 
 here quite so much to blame ; for there have been rumours and tales 
 about, and facts have come out one way or another, which Joey, like a 
 goose, has applied to himself. But you had better ask the chevalier 
 about it as you are in want of a nephew." 
 
 " Why what the devil can the chevalier know ?" cried the peer. 
 ** He seems to have his finger in every pie." 
 
 " That's the very express purpose I came here for," said the cheva- 
 lier, advancing calmly ; " and in regard to this affair I can give you 
 some information. Your lordship has shown this day that you are 
 perfectly ready to acknowledge a nephew if you find him." 
 
 " Why certainly," replied the peer, " if he can prove himself to be 
 such. By jingo, he'll get devilish little from me, so it does not so 
 much matter. So out with the story, good Mr. Lunatico — where is 
 this fine boy ?" 
 
 *' Oh we will soon call him," said the chevalier. " Mr. Worrel, will 
 you do me a favour ?" 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 419 
 
 " Certainly, my dear chevalier," said Worrel, conw'ng forward ; " I 
 feel a deep interest in this matter, for poor Lady Maria Fitzurse was 
 the bosom friend of my dear mother." 
 
 " She was something more," replied the chevalier in a grave tone. 
 
 " She was your mother ! Lord Outrun, I present to you your 
 
 sister's son by her husband, Colonel Worrel. Look at him, and com- 
 pare his face with the image stamped indelibly upon your mind of hers, 
 and tell me if you do not recognise her child ?" 
 
 The peer looked somewhat pale. " By jingo," he said, " he's very 
 like, now I think of it. Old Scapulary did sometimes threaten some- 
 thing about bringing forward a son, but I never half believed him.'* 
 
 " It is quite true, my lord," said Jerry Tripe in a sad tone. " Lady 
 Maria certainly had a son." 
 
 " I don't see how that could be either," cried the peer, knitting his 
 brows thoughtfully. " Come, Jerry, I've been made a fool of once to- 
 day, and so I'll be fully satisfied before I give in this time. Come let 
 us hear how it all was as you seem to know so much about it. I don't 
 mean to say that they were not privately married — that I know too 
 well — but they were separated directly, for he was under age, and then 
 she was dead before he came back from the army. Let us hear all about 
 it, Master Jerry. If it can be proved let it be proved — I won't say no." 
 
 " My part of the story will soon be told, my lord," replied Jerry 
 Tripe, " if 1 have your lordship's leave to tell it." 
 
 " Speak, speak," said the peer : " as the matter has begun we must 
 go on : truth never gets only the head and shoulders out ; the whole 
 body follows sooner or later." 
 
 " Well, then," continued Jerry, " don't you recollect, my lord, how 
 my young lady went to the masqued ball in the dress she had been 
 painted in — the grey satin and the black mantilla ? and how you heard 
 that she was going to run away with the colonel, whom you had found 
 once walking with her in the park, and went and waited outside till 
 they came out, and caught her just upon the steps of the carriage, and 
 knocked him down and horsewhipped her ?" 
 
 "Hush, hush!" cried the peer. "Don't talk about that,*' and his 
 eyes fell gravely to the ground, 
 
 "Well," continued Jerry, "he called you out, you know, and 
 you fought in the lane, and he shot you in the side, and left you for 
 dead." 
 
 " Ay, then he ran aw^.y," replied the peer, " and went to join his 
 regiment in Germany." 
 
 " No, that he didn't," answered Jerry Tripe, " for he was in England 
 two months after that ; and when my young lady was sent to your 
 aunt's. Lady Grace, he saw her often enough there, as the housekeeper 
 can tell, for she was Lady Grace's maid then ; and he came down here 
 once after that too, to seek for the marriage register, but he didn't find 
 what he wanted, for as soon as your lordship discovered they had been 
 really married you made old Scapulary tear the leaf out. That's all 
 I know of the matter, for afterwards, when Lady Maria came back 
 here, I went with your lordship to London, and we stayed there a 
 
420 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR 
 
 great many months. But old Scapulary has often told me that, not- 
 withstanding all the people you put to watch her, Lady Maria had 
 been out one whole day, and up at the Half Moon with Mr. and Mrs. 
 Worrel, the colonel's brother and sister-in-law. The servants told me 
 so too, and that when she came back she was more like one dead than 
 alive. After that time, you know, my lord, she, who had been so 
 healthy, and so gay and happy, grew very sickly, and all the world 
 
 said . However there's no use of talking of that, for she died little 
 
 better than a year after." 
 
 Jerry paused, the peer mused, but Mr. Longshanks walked 
 quietly to the door, and, opening it, exclaimed aloud, " Send in Mrs. 
 Muggins.'* 
 
 Almost immediately after, the landlady of the Half Moon made 
 her appearance, curtseying as she came in, and approaching the 
 place where the peer stood with his back leaning against one of the 
 tables. 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Muggins," cried Lord Outrun, " what have you to 
 say ?" 
 
 " I am ready to say all I know, my lord," replied Mrs. Muggins, 
 who never lost her self-possession, " if I am properly required to do so." 
 
 " Then I require you," said Mr. Longshanks — " I require you, as a 
 magistrate, to tell the truth and the whole truth. Answer my ques- 
 tions, Mrs. Muggins. On the twentieth day of July, in the year 17 — 
 did not Lady Maria Fitzurse, or Worrel, as I ought to call her, come 
 up to your house, the Half Moon ?" 
 
 " Lord, sir, you know as well as I do," replied Mrs. Muggins. 
 
 " It doesn't matter what I know, woman," replied Mr. Longshanks. 
 " What you know is the matter in question now. I'll speak in my turn, 
 and speak to the purpose, never you fear. You tell your tale now, 
 that's all you have to do." 
 
 " Well, then, I will tell my tale, sir," said Mrs. Muggins, in a some- 
 what offended tone. " Lady Maria did come up to my houee on the 
 twentieth day of July, 17 — , and a terrible state she was in, poor thing. 
 I happwied to be at the door, and I saw her ; she was on foot, poor 
 thing, and had on what we used to call her night-clothes in those days, 
 though they were no night-clothes at all, for that matter, and she had 
 a large cloak over that ." 
 
 " What the devil signifies what she had on?" said the peer. 
 
 " It signified a great deal to her, sir, at the time," replied Mrs. Mug- 
 gins ; " for she was not in a way to be seen walking in the street ; and 
 she said, ' Oh, Mrs. Muggins, is Mrs. Worrel here ? Take me to her 
 directly, if she is, and don't let anybody see me.' So I made her a 
 curtsey, and said, * Yes, my lady,' and took her directly up stairs to the 
 front sitting-room — the Chancellor^ we call it, I don't know why — where 
 Mr. and Mrs. Worrel were sitting, and she ran in, and fell into Mrs. 
 Worrel's arms, and began to cry, and said, ' Oh, Mrs. Worrel, I am 
 so ill I feel as if I should die ;' and Mrs. Worrel whispered a word or 
 two to her, and she answered, * Yes, yes, it is so, it is so, I fear.' Then 
 Mr. Worrel, who was a kind man, took her hand, and said, * Don't be 
 
©B liUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 421 
 
 alarmed, my dear lady, you are with your brother and sister, who will 
 protect you against the whole world, and do every thing for you ;' and 
 while he was talking to her, Mrs. Worrel came up to me, and said in a 
 whisper, ' Send for a doctor, Mrs. Muggins, as quietly as possible, and 
 get a nurse — but neither doctor nor nurse out of this village — and, for 
 Godsake, see for some baby-clothes.' I had plenty of my own, just 
 then, for I had not been married above a year, and had lost my own 
 baby, so I felt for the poor thing — to be brought to bed in a strange 
 place, with her husband far away fighting the French, and her brother 
 that she dare not open her lips to, and her father not long dead, who 
 used to make her his pet ! — and I got all the things ready, and I sent for 
 Mr. Longshanks there, who was then a young surgeon at Market 
 Greenford, before he went to India and became a great man ; and the 
 baby was born in the bed-room behind the sitting-room, not two hours 
 after she entered the house. But she declared all the time that she 
 must go back to the castle, for she was afraid that her brother would 
 kill her if he heard that she stayed away ; and Mr. Longshanks there 
 said that, if she went at all, she had better go as soon as ever she could ; 
 and, before she had been six hours in the house, what with caudle and one 
 thing and another, we got her strengthened up, and wrapped her in 
 cloaks, and put her into a chaise, and sent her home. And I heard after- 
 wards she pretended nothing was the matter, but that she was tired with 
 too long a walk, and sat up to keep up the appearance of being well till 
 she fainted dead away. Mr. and Mrs. Worrel came into the house with 
 no baby, nor the likelihood of any, but they went away with a fine boy, 
 and Mr. Longshanks marked him on the arm with gunpowder. Some 
 six months after that they brought him down again, and a note was sent 
 secretly to the castle, and Lady Maria came up again to see him ; and 
 a fine work we had, for she fainted away when she thought of parting 
 with him ; and from that hour she got worse, till she died." 
 
 The peer had sunk into a chair, and covered his eyes with his hands, 
 while the good woman spoke ; and the rest of the party had made a small 
 circle round, with Mrs. Muggins, Mr. Longshanks, and Jeremiah Tripe, 
 Esq., a little in advance of the rest ; while Harry Worrel remained behind 
 the surgeon, with his eyes bent upon the ground, for he dared not raise 
 them, lest they should run over with the mingled tears of grief and 
 indignation. Laura Longmore stood on one side of him, and her father 
 on the other ; and as the good landlady uttered the words, " till she 
 died," Laura's fair, soft fingers stole round his hand, pressing it gently, 
 as the best and only consolation she could give. 
 
 " Now, my lord," said Mr. Longshanks, " is this enough for you ? 
 or must I tell you, too, that this is your sister's son — that I bled him 
 one day when he broke his head, like a fool, out hunting — and that I 
 saw the mark upon his arm which I myself made twenty-five years ago? 
 I saw him when he was two years old — when he was five years old. I 
 know that Mr. and Mrs. Worrel never had a child, though they adopted 
 him, and always called him their own M'ithout daring to tell the truth ; 
 for you have been all your life, sir, a furious and a wilful man ; and 
 there are few people in this world, composed as it is of dolts, blockheads, 
 
^♦2 THE COMMI8SIOWKR ; OR, 
 
 knaves, and madmen, who have common sense and common courage 
 enough to face a fellow who chooses to have his own way, heedless of 
 the consequences to himself and others." 
 
 Lord Outrun removed his hands from his ej^es, and rose slowly from 
 his chair, waving to Mr. Longshanks to hold his tongue. 
 
 *' You are a good man, Longshanks," he said, " but a great brute. 
 I am troubled enough ; don't trouble me any more. Harry," he con- 
 tinued, throwing his arms round Worrel — " Harry, will you forgive me ? 
 I behaved like a brute and a scoundrel to your poor mother ; and, bad 
 and riotous as I have always been, I should not have been half so bad, 
 if the thought of what I had done to her, and what I had made her 
 suffer, had not haunted me through life, and made me fly from bad to 
 worse, just to drown thought and drive care away. Harry, will you 
 forgive me ?" 
 
 " I will, my lord," replied Harry Worrel ; " though the debt is a 
 heavy one, yet I am sure, if I judge my mother aright, she would for- 
 give you, after the acknowledgment you have made, and I must not 
 refuse to do so likewise. But one thing is absolutely necessary, my lord. 
 A stain rests upon my birth — a stain rests upon my mother's fair fame, 
 till you produce the leaf that you caused to be torn out of the register. 
 It is absolutely necessary that that should be immediately brought 
 forward and restored to its original place." 
 
 " Jerry, I told you to get it from the old man's widow,'* cried the 
 peer. " Have you found it — heard of it ? Where is it ?" 
 
 "I don't kn,ow, indeed, my lord," replied Jerry Tripe. ""Widow 
 Scapulary and I searched for it, but could not find it. But I have 
 since " 
 
 "But it shall be found," cried the peer — "by jingo I it shall be 
 found. It is but right to the lad, and to the family of Fitzurse, too, 
 that the register should be produced. I will pull the old woman's house 
 down, but I will find it." 
 
 " She is gone to gaol, my lord, for the murder of her husband," replied 
 Jerry Tripe. " But I was going to tell your lordship that Smalldram, 
 the tinman, who helped her in the job, told me in the black hole at 
 Market Greenford, that he had thrown it away when he was chased by 
 the constables, the Lord knows where, upon the common." 
 
 " Was ever any thing so unlucky ?" cried the peer. "By jingo ! the 
 paper must be all in a mess, even if we should find it, for it rained as 
 hard as it could pour in the night." 
 
 " This is the way," cried Mr. Longshanks, "that sin and folly have 
 gone on begetting sorrow and wrong, from the first beginning of the 
 world till now. We not only find one evil act produce another in 
 the man who commits it, but it carries on its pestiferous influence to 
 thousands of others. The plague, as an infectious disease, is nothing 
 to be compared to wickedness ; and I do declare that, with Lord Outrun 
 here in the middle of us, and my friend Puddenstream within a few 
 miles, I wonder there is one virtuous or wise man in the parish, such 
 is the focus of contagion here produced. What the devil are you about, 
 Tom Hamilton ? Must you always be pushing yourself forward where 
 
D£ LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 423 
 
 there is mischief going on, or even being talked about ? "What's all 
 this business to you ? Go and shoot magpies ; the season for butcher- 
 ing partridges and massacreing hares has not yet commenced, I believe." 
 
 " My good friend," said Tom Hamilton, " pray let other people have 
 one word as well as yourself. This is indeed a very unfortunate busi- 
 ness that the register should be lost. I would propose that it should 
 be immediately cried, and a reward offered for it. What shall we say, 
 Worrel — what will you give ? What do you say, viscount ?" 
 
 '• By jingo I 1 don't know," replied Lord Outrun. " I'd give a 
 great deal, but I haven't an acre unmortgaged, except the gamekeeper's 
 cottage at the end of the park, and the three fields round it. But I'll 
 give that with all my heart." 
 
 " I will give one half of what I possess," exclaimed Harry Worrel. 
 
 " And I'll give five hundred pounds," exclaimed Mr. Longmore. 
 
 " Well then," said Tom Hamilton, drawing out an old dirty pocket- 
 book, " these being the rewards offered, here is the register, picked 
 up by. me on seeing the murderer Smalldram throw it away, as I 
 came over the common with Miss Longmore here. I shall claim 
 all the rewards, but only one of them for myself. You, my noble lord, 
 shall immediately settle the gamekeeper's cottage and the unmortgaged 
 lands round it upon your fair daughter-in-law here, as I believe it is 
 the only thing you can settle. You, Mr. Longmore, shall bestow the 
 five hundred pounds on our poor friend, Joey Pike, to console him for 
 his disappointment. He will, moreover, have about an equal sum, I 
 find, out of the property of old Scapulary ; for in this pocket-book is 
 also a will, drawn up the day before his death, in his own hand-writing, 
 which will convey his money — though, not being witnessed, his houses 
 will go somewhere else — so that Joey will npw have an opportunity of 
 pursuing his taste for the fine arts at leisure. As for the half of your 
 property, Worrel, all I covet is a large share of your friendship ; but 
 I am afraid the best half of your affection is taken possession of 
 already." 
 
 " 'Pon my soul, Tom Hamilton, you're a fine fellow," cried the peer, 
 shaking him by the hand. 
 
 " He is not so bad as I thought him," said Mr. Longshanks. 
 
 " The dinner must be getting cold," said Mr. Deputy Popeseye. 
 
 *' I had the fish and soup taken down," said Jerry Tripe ; " for I saw 
 it would be a long story ; but ihey will be up again in an instant." 
 
 And when they were, the whole company walked in to dinner. 
 
424 THE commissioner; or. 
 
 CHAPTER LXX. 
 
 XHB LAMLNTABLE CONDITION OF MR. PIKE THE BELIEF HK UECEIVED FROM 
 
 THE CONDESCENSION OP THE i'EEB MK. DABIVS IN HIS GLORY HOW TUi 
 
 FESTIVITIES OP OUTRUN CASTLE HAD A TRAGIC CONCLUSION, AND THE OLORT 
 OP MB. DARIUS WAS TURNED INTO SHAME. 
 
 / 
 
 Poor Joey Pike stood in profound humiliation in the midst of the 
 drawing-room, as one by one the guests of Outrun Castle moved in 
 procession into the dining-room. 
 
 " Son rovinato^^ cried Joey, " O Dio che pena /'* 
 
 Mrs. Muggins had retired from the room, and he was all aloire ; but 
 had all the world and his wife been there, Joey would not have seen them, 
 so full was he of his own thoughts, so completely buried in profound 
 sadness regarding his own situation. Deep, and dark, and terrible 
 were his imaginings as he saw all his fair prospects blown to the 
 winds — as he perceived, that if he abandoned the name of Pike he 
 must take up the appellation of Scapulary. Horrible, horrible, most 
 horrible, he thought, and then his mind reverted to the dinner he had 
 lost, not grieving for it on any gastronomic motives, but thinking over 
 all the graces he had intended to display, remembering how he had 
 proposed to take wine with one, to converse with another, to smile 
 upon a third, to trifle with chickens, to flirt with partridges, and to 
 display all the airs and graces of an empty-headed man of fashion. 
 While he remained in these meditations, some one came into the room 
 with a stealthy step, but Joey did not mind it : the curtains rustled 
 behind him, but he heeded not the sound. At length, however, the 
 door of the dining-room opened again, and one of the servants ap- 
 pearing pronounced the ecstatic words — 
 
 " My lord begs that you would come in to dinner.'* 
 
 Joey instantly glissaded to the door, and the moment after he found 
 himself at the end of the convivial board. 
 
 " Sit down, Joey, sit down," cried the peer ; " this is the anniversary 
 of the world being turned topsy-turvy, and you shall have one day of 
 it at least." 
 
 Joey glided into a vacant chair, and commenced doing the graceful 
 to his highest satisfaction. In the meantime, every one was busy with 
 the fish and soup, and the first awful silence which, at a grand dinner, 
 always precedes the storm of words with which it ends, reigned over 
 the table. Joey, however, displayed his graces, as he was fully capable 
 of doing, in silence as well as in conversation. He finished his soup 
 he ate his fish, he then swung his right arm over the back of his chair, 
 raised his eyes towards the lustre over the table, and swept back the 
 long lines of his hair from his phrenological development. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 425 
 
 In the meantime, Mr. Darius was in his glory : he sat upon the 
 left hand of Mr. Fitzurse — now related to him by the ties of marriage — 
 having a young lady brought by the fair dame of Dr. Hookham upon 
 his own left, who was nearly as great a goose as his other neighbour. 
 She had all the sweet qualities, too, of that most delightful of all 
 creatures, called a flirt, and she would have talked to Mr. Darius of 
 any thing or every thing under the sun, from metaphysics to adultery, 
 rather than not have talked to him at all, or missed one iota of his 
 attention and admiration. 
 
 Ye gods and little fishes ! how Mr. Darius did go on, under such 
 pleasant circumstances ! Confining himself in no degree within the 
 narrow limits of the stale and rusty iron of truth, he soared into the 
 regions of imagination ; probability itself had no charm for him, and 
 one must acknowledge that he had chosen a wide field for himself. 
 To believe him, he had seen the whole world and every thing it con- 
 tained ; and certainly, according to his account, there were many more 
 things in it than any one else on earth suspected. The wall of China 
 was as familiar to him as the streets of London ; he had driven four- 
 in-hand through the streets of Pekin. With the King of Ava he was 
 hand and glove ; they used to smoke their hookahs together on a white 
 Siamese elephant ; and he assured Mr. Fitzurse that he had aided that 
 great monarch in the impalement of three hundred of his principal 
 officers who had slept too late one drizzly morning. 
 
 Then, however, hechanged thescene, and told a softer tale — how hehad 
 trifled with beauty in the earthly paradise of Cachmere ; how sweet girls, 
 only second to Houris, had combed his beard and curled his whiskers as he 
 lay on beds of roses, lulled into a semi-slumber by the sound of inniune- 
 rable lutes. One would have thought he was Lalla Rookh, or some of her 
 friends. Then, soaring far away, he plunged into the dark forests of 
 the north west, hunted, and scalped, and fought the grizzly bear with 
 the six nations and their allies. He repeated some stanzas of a Cherokee 
 war song, and dwelt with a solemn delight upon the joys of filling the 
 nose of an enemy with brimstone matches and setting them on fire, 
 while the dusky company danced round the victim in mockery. 
 
 Mr. Fitzurse did not like the conversation at all ; his dinner was not 
 palatable to him, and he was remarked to cliange colour more than 
 once, while a slight aguish tremor of the hand evinced itself at pecu- 
 liar periods of Mr. Darius's discourse, which the other saw with 
 delight, and proceeded thereupon with increased vigour. From North 
 America he got back to India, and talked in a more civilized strain 
 of shooting a few friends in the most honourable manner. He assured 
 his companions on the right and left that when he had a little affair of ' 
 the kind on hand he never sighted his adversary in the slightest degree. 
 " I take one look at him," he said, " fix on the spot where I intend to 
 hit him, then raise my pistol, keeping my elbow tight to my side, pull 
 the trigger, and down he comes. Remember that, Fitzurse, remember 
 that ! It's perfectly invariable ; keep your elbow tight to your side, 
 and you can't miss him." 
 
 " I caen, thoi^h," said Mr. Fitziirse, with his usual drawl. 
 
426 THE COMMISSIONER; Oil, 
 
 " You mean, perhaps, that you may kill him when you only intend 
 to wound him," said Mr. Darius ; " but a little practice will set all 
 that to rights. Why, I recollect, my dear madam, at a great ball 
 at Calcutta, a young lady refused to dance with me because she was 
 in love with a young gentleman I knew very well, and wanted to 
 dance with him. Well, presently after he came in and took her out. 
 I said she must not dance, she must sit down ; he said she shouldn't, 
 so I just whispered in his ear, ' You are a good dancer, Jack, but you 
 shall never dance again.' The next morning we met, and he was in 
 a great fright, as you may suppose. * You are not going to kill me, 
 Darius ?' he said. ' Oh, no. Jack,' I replied. ' Make yourself easy, 
 I am only going to spoil your dancing. Take care of your knee, my 
 good friend ;' and while they were giving the words I just whistled a 
 bit of the country dance he had been jigging in the night before ; the 
 moment the signal was given, crack went my pistol, and down he went 
 with his knee knocked all to smash. Poor devil, they were obliged to 
 cut his leg off. You must have seen him about London, walking about 
 with a wooden leg." 
 
 " No, I haevn't," said Mr. Fitzurse, pettishly. 
 
 Mr. Darius bent upon him a stern, inquiring look, as much as to 
 say, " What's the meaning of that tone ?" and Mr. Fitzurse shrunk 
 into nothing in a moment. 
 
 " Poor fellow," said the young lady, in reply to his former speech, 
 " I think you might have forgiven him." 
 
 " I make it a point," said Mr. Darius, " of never forgiving an offence. 
 It is by far the most Christian and charitable plan, for when once it 
 is generally known that such is your resolution, no offences are given, 
 and you go on in peace and charity with all men. I duclare, if my own 
 brother were to offend me, I'd kill him and eat him directly." 
 
 " Eat him ?" cried the young lady, in a high treble : " eat him ?" 
 
 " Oh, no, no," replied Mr. Darius, with an affected and somewhat 
 fiendish laugh, " not exactly eat him. It's only a form of speech, you 
 know — isn't it, Fitzurse ? You can't think how nice man is though," 
 he said, sinking his voice to a whisper. 
 
 *' La !" said the young lady. 
 
 " I can assure you," continued Mr. Darius, *' it's worth a trip to the 
 Tonga Islands just to taste man properly dressed," and he wiped the cor- 
 ners of his mouth with his napkin, as if the very thought made it water. 
 
 " I don't know," he proceeded, whispering in Mr. Fitzurse's ear — 
 *' I don't know whether your cook is clever, but I gave very precise 
 directions, and if she have followed them, you will tast« something 
 such as you never tasted before." 
 
 Mr. Fitzurse was as silent as the grave, but his eyes swam in his 
 head ; and at that very moment Jerry Tripe with one hand put a dish 
 upon the table, just before Mr. Darius. That gentleman turned his 
 head over his shoulder, and inquired, " Is this it ?" Jerry nodded 
 his head, and while the Honourable Henry Frederick Augustus turned 
 as pale as his napkin, Mr. Darius rubbed his hands slowly with evident 
 fcaLisfaction. 
 
DE LUNATICO INQLIUENDO. 427 
 
 In the meantime, Mr. Winterton and Mr. Longshanks had been at 
 war at the other side of the table ; and w hile the other dishes were 
 being put on, and before the covers were removed, the surgeon was 
 heard to end the conversation in his caustic and decided manner, 
 saying — 
 
 " In the course of a long life, sir, I have met with many egregious 
 fools, both in public and in private capacities, but the greatest that 
 ever I met with, heard, or dreamed of, are those m ho contend that 
 men who are, by knowledge and intelligence, unfit for the construction 
 of a mousetrap, without education, without principles, and without 
 conduct, ought to be admitted to a share in governing a great country. 
 You say, admit them to that share, and the government they will 
 choose will educate them, and teach them intelligence and virtue. 
 That, sir, is to expect that evil will produce good, folly wisdom, 
 ignorance learning ; and there can be no earthly doubt to any man 
 who has wit, candour, or honesty, that the bad will choose bad, and 
 the foolish foolish representatives. Let us hear no more nonsense 
 upon the subject, for until all the world be rendered good and wise 
 universal suffrage can only produce universal confusion — as we see 
 exemplified in America, where the only bonds that hold society 
 together are the laws and customs which they derived from the 
 country whose authority they have abjured ; and daily those laws 
 and customs are giving way before the pressure of democratic violence, 
 like old flood-gates swept away by an overwhelming torrent." 
 
 While these things were proceeding at various parts of the table, 
 Laura Longmore was seated happily between her father and her lover ; 
 and the peer was chatting gaily with his son's bride upon his right 
 hand, who for her part was conducting herself with great propriety of 
 demeanour, and replying timidly but not ungracefully to the jests and 
 gibes of her noble father-in-law. 
 
 Just at the moment that Mr. Longshanks finished his oration, the 
 covers were suddenly removed from the dishes, and various people 
 asked various other people what they would take. The young lady 
 next to Mr. Darius took some venison ; and that gentleman then turned 
 to Mt. Fitzurse, saying, " Let me help you to some of this," and 
 pointing to the dish before him, in which, amongst rich sauces and 
 gravies, appeared a number of small ribs and bones, covered with a 
 tender white meat, looking somewhat like that of a young pig, but 
 Mithout its fat. 
 
 " No ; I think I will have some venison,*' said Mr. Fitzurse, in a 
 faint tone, turning his head away. 
 
 " Fitzurse !" said Mr. Darius, in a stem and solemn voice. 
 
 " I caen't," said Mr. Fitzurse ; " I had raether not." 
 
 " What, sir !" rejoined his companion, in a low but fierce tone. 
 «* Do you mean to say you can eat none, after I have taken the 
 trouble of having it dressed expressly for you ? Do you mean to insult 
 nie, sir r" 
 
 " No, no, no, no," cried Mr. F'itzurFC, in accents of despairing 
 resignation. " \A ell, dcnmi it, if I mu^t, 1 must— so give nie some of 
 
428 THE commissioner; or, 
 
 it ;•* and he pushed forward his plate without waiting for the assistance 
 of a servant. 
 
 " The ribs are best," said Mr. Darius, helping him ; << the ribs are 
 delicious /" he added in a fee-faw-fum tone, which made all the blood 
 in his companion's body grow cold. 
 
 Mr. Fitzurse drew the plate to him, cut off a piece with a trembling 
 hand, and raised it to his lips. But nature could bear no more ; he 
 dropped the fork from his hand, and crying " Ugh !" with a face as pale 
 as death, started up from the table, and darted towards the drawing- 
 room door. 
 
 " Why, Freddy, what's the matter ?" said the peer, while Jane rose 
 to run to his assistance. 
 
 " I am sick at the stomach," cried Mr. Fitzurse ; " I caen't stand it, 
 — demm me if I can !" and he threw open the door into the other 
 room. 
 
 The farce was succeeded by a tragedy, however ; for the first thing 
 he beheld before him, as the door flew back under his hand, -was the 
 wild and furious face of poor Trollop, the madman. 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha !" shouted the maniac, as soon as he beheld him : " I 
 have caught you at last — I have caught you at last. Now I'll have 
 your blood !" 
 
 Mr. Fitzurse ran back into the dining-room ; but the madman, 
 brandishing an iron bar of one of the doors which he held in his hand, 
 darted after him, the company rising and scattering before him in 
 dismay. It was at the bridegroom alone, however, that the maniac aimed. 
 His eyes were fixed upon him with wild, unnatural fire flashing from them, 
 and he had chased the deceiver of his child half round the table, 
 when, at the very same moment, poor Jane cast herself before him and 
 clasped his knees, Mr. Fitzurse stumbled over the misplaced chair of 
 Darius, and the arm of the madman descended, striking the head of the 
 unfortunate fugitive with the iron bar that loaded it. There was a 
 crash like that of a broken fence, the blood gushed from his mouth, 
 ears, and nostrils, and down he fell prone upon his face, with his limbs 
 quivering, and his feet beating the ground. A loud and piercing 
 sliriek came from the lips of the poor bride, and tighter still 
 she clung to the knees of the maniac to prevent him from repeating 
 the blow. At the same instant, Mr. Longshanks, Jerry Tripe, Mr. 
 Rotundity, and two of the footmen, cast themselves upon the madman, 
 wrenched the bar from his hands, and held liis limbs firmly in their 
 grasp, while others sprang forward to raise Mr. Fitzurse from the ground. 
 
 " Tie his arms with the napkins — ^tie his arms with the napkins," 
 cried Mr. Longshanks. 
 
 " And his legs too," shouted one of the footmen, " for he's kicking me 
 devilishly." 
 
 " I have killed him — I have killed him !" cried the madman, with a 
 loud laugh of exultation. " That's done, and I'm satisfied. I should 
 like to have some of his blood — let me have some of his blood !" 
 
 But they forcibly tied him hand and foot, and threw him down upon 
 the ground, removing Jane in a fainting state^ and placing her in an 
 
"^f^'T* 
 
 
 4 
 
 ^ 
 
 
W''' 
 
 # 
 
DE LUNATICO INQTJIRENDO. 429 
 
 arm-chair. Mr. Longshanks then hurried towards Mr. Fitzurse, who 
 was by this time raised from the ground, while the peer gazed at him 
 in horror, and wrung his trembling hands. 
 
 " Carry him into the next room," cried the surgeon — " carry him 
 into the next room, and lay him on the sofa ; he may be only stunned 
 — Why, what the devil is this ?" he continued, starting back as he 
 kicked his feet against a pair of legs in black silk stockings sticking 
 out from below the table — *' some d — d coward crept under the table ! 
 Pull him out — pull him out — pull him out by the heels !" and one of 
 the men seizing tlie legs, to the surprise of all, drew out the long and 
 stately form of Mr. Darius, with a face which at first was excessively 
 white, but soon turned excessively red. 
 
 " I dropped my snuff-box," he said ; " that's the fact." 
 
 " Pooh !" said Tom Hamilton with a look of contempt, and followed 
 the inanimate form of his unfortunate friend into the draw ing-room. 
 
 They laid him upon a sofa, while almost all the male part of the 
 lately gay party flocked in from the dining-room ; and Mr. Longshanks, 
 kneeling down put his hand upon the back of his head. Then lifting 
 up his eyes towards the peer, he said to Tom Hamilton and the rest, 
 " Take the old man away.'* 
 
 " No, no," cried the viscount. " I won't go — I can bear it — I de- 
 serve to bear it — I won't go. He is dying, Longshanks — he is dying, 
 isn't he ?" 
 
 Mr. Longshanks made no reply, but shook his head. " It is happy," 
 he said, after a pause of more than a minute — " it is happy when death 
 comes upon a bad man at the moment that he has taken some steps 
 in a better path. God's mercy is infinite ; we see his love towards us 
 in all his works, we know by our own experience how often he forgives 
 all our offences, and we may trust that * the wicked man when he 
 turneth away from the wickedness he hath committed, shall save his 
 soul alive.'" 
 
 " Is he dead, then — is he dead ?" asked the peer. " Can nothing be 
 done ?" 
 
 " His skull is fractured," replied Mr. Longshanks ; " his brain is 
 irreparably injured. He may live for a few minutes, but the fewer 
 they are the better, for the life of life is at an end." 
 
 As he pronounced these sad and solemn words, a wild cry issued 
 from the ding-room, and poor Jane, spite of all that could be done to 
 detain her, rushed in, and cast herself upon her knees beside her 
 expiring husband. She took the hand from which the warmth of life 
 was departing, she covered it with her kisses, she dewed it with her 
 tears. There was one in the world that loved him ! but, in the simple 
 words of the old ballad, "all would not avail." After they had stood 
 round him for about ten minutes, and various things had been done by 
 Mr. Longshanks to satisfy the unhappy father, the lips of the dying 
 man murmured for a moment or two, but what were the words that he 
 uttered no one heard. Jane started up, crying, " He speaks — he 
 speaks ! Do you not hear him ? He is recovering ! Hark ! he is 
 recovering !" 
 
430 THE commissioner; or. 
 
 But at the same instant he gnashed his teeth sharply with a ghastly 
 shudder, and the eyes opened, but the spirit was gone. In a moment 
 after his bride was, to all appearance, as dead as she was, and those who 
 were near bore her away to the chamber of her cold widowhood, while 
 the father of the dead man sat down by his head and wept. 
 " This is a sad and terrible thing," said Tom Hamilton. 
 " It is indeed," said Mr. Longshanks. " Let it be as the voice of 
 heaven to all that see it, warning them to repent while time is yet 
 allowed them." 
 
 " Be comforted," said Harry Worrel, coming to the side of his 
 uncle, and taking his hand with more tenderness than any thing but 
 such misfortunes could have induced him to show towards one who had 
 so cruelly treated his mother. " Be comforted." 
 
 " Oh, Harry Worrel, Harry Worrel !" said the old man, " had he 
 been the best son, the best friend, the best man the world ever pro- 
 duced, I could be comforted. Doubtless, you think it is no great loss ; 
 but it is bitterer to me to see him lie there, and to know that he was 
 what he was, than if I had lost all that could make a father's heart proud. 
 Talk not to me of comfort. I have nothing before me, but as hereto- 
 fore, to drown care, to forget sorrow, to stifle remorse. It is all in vain 
 — it is all in vain. Give me a tumbler-full of wine, Jerry Tripe ! This 
 shall not get the better of me." 
 
 " Nay, nay," said Mr. Longshanks, interposing in a softer tone than 
 he was accustomed to use, as the butler proceeded to obey his lord's 
 injunctions. " Nay, nay ; seek better comfort than that. Think of 
 hereafter." 
 
 " What I think of that which shall condemn me ?" cried the peer, 
 angrily. " How shall I seek comfort there ? Who will give it me ? 
 Will that man ?" and he pointed to Dr. Hookham, who stood not far 
 off. " Who can get comfort from such a thing as that ? I will tell 
 you what, Longshanks ; a good clergyman is a blessing indeed — I am 
 sure of it — I know it. If I had had one near me, I should have been a 
 better man. But a bad one is a curse ; and I have found it so. Give 
 me the wine, Jerry !" and he drank the tumbler-full down, and then 
 filled another. " There, go all away and leave me," he cried : " the 
 wedding-day is over, the feast and the merriment at an end. Leave 
 the old wretch in his den : there's none of you love me or care for rae 
 now. Harry Worrel, you are my heir, and the barony too goes in the 
 female line ; " so, when you are Lord Fitzurse, and live in Outrun 
 
 Castle, mind you behave better than I have done Now go away 
 
 with you all, and leave me to myself." 
 
 " I would fain stay with you, my dear lord," replied Worrel, kindly. 
 *' I am not only your heir, but your near relation — the only relation 
 you have left, and I much wish to comfort and console you." 
 
 " You are a good boy, Harry," said th-e peer, shaking him by the 
 hand, " and you shall come to me to-morrow. To-night it's of no use. 
 So leave me to myself and my own ways, and go away all of you. 
 Take the murderer with you, but don't do him any harm— mind you 
 don't do him any harm, for he is mad, and was very badly used, poor 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRi:NDO. 431 
 
 fellov ! Give him a glass of wine, Jerry ; tell him I sent it him. 
 Cuise me if I couldn't be a fool, and cry !'* and casting himself down 
 in a chair, he waved his hand to be left alone. 
 
 Slowly and one by one the guests departed; some seeking their 
 horses, some taking their way on foot. The chevalier lingered the 
 last, gazing thoughtfully upon the peer, with his arms crossed upon his 
 chest. " What are you waiting for ?" cried Lord Outrun, looking up. 
 " Oh, I know what you are thinking of! To be bad is not to be mad, 
 chevalier — would to God it was ! — it is a step beyond madness, and a 
 much worse step too. So now leave me." 
 
 " You are right, my lord," replied the chevalier, and withdrew. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXI. 
 
 HOW THE PEEK CONSOLED HIMSELF FOR THE MISFORTUNES WHICH HAD 
 BEFALLEN HIM THE LAST FLARE-UP AT OUTRUN CASTLE. 
 
 The sound of receding feet soon came to an end, the shouts and 
 merriment that had been heard from the terrace and the park gra- 
 dually subsided ; a feeling of awe spread over the multitude which 
 had been collected ; the tables were left, and the people dispersed, 
 moralizing deeply over that in which they saw the hand of retributive 
 justice more, far more plainly, than if they had witnessed an execution 
 under the arm of the law. Viscount Outrun remained for nearly half 
 an hour in the chamber with the dead body, then starting suddenly up, 
 he walked into the other room, where he found Tom Hamilton sitting 
 at the still-spread table, with his elbows resting upon it and his hands 
 covering his eyes. 
 
 Mr. Darius and Mr. Winterton had finished their dinner, and gone 
 to play at backgammon in the library. Tom Hamilton did not look 
 up when he heard the peer's step, and Lord Outrun, drawing a chair 
 close to him, touched his arm, saying in a low tone — 
 
 " Tom, Tom, let us have some champagne — there's nothing for it 
 but that." 
 
 " I can't," said Tom Hamilton, shaking his head. " Oh ! my lord, 
 this is a very terrible thing." 
 
 " That's the very reason, Tom," said the peer. " I must have some 
 champagne, Tom, or I shall die, or cry, or something. Reach me that 
 bottle out of the cooler." 
 
 Tom Hamilton did as he asked him, and Lord Outrun poured him- 
 self out a glass and drank it, and then poured one out for his compa- 
 nion, and insisted upon his taking it also. 
 
 " 1 feel very queer about the head, Tom," said the peer ; and then 
 
432 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 after a long pause he added — *' I wonder what death is like ? — and 
 then what's to come after ? — It's a strange thing, and does not do to 
 think of." So he poured himself out another glass of champagne and 
 swallowed that too. 
 
 A long pause then ensued, for in the mind of both there was more 
 matter for musing than conversation. Still, thought — which is the 
 solitude of the mind — was not pleasant to Lord Outrun. He could 
 not endure it, yet it pressed upon him ; and often when his lips moved 
 to speak, the mind was hurried on upon the course of reflection, like 
 a boat carried by a strong stream beyond the place where those who 
 guide it would wish to land. After some five minutes, however, he 
 poured himself out another glass of the same wine, and drank it almost 
 unconsciously. 
 
 " I say, Tom," he said at length, " suppose we do not do these things 
 any more." 
 
 " 1 think it will be far better not, my lord," replied Tom Hamilton. 
 " I for my part am resolved to leave off a great many things. — No 
 more, I thank you," he added, as the peer held out the bottle towards 
 him. Amongst other things, I will not get drunk any more." 
 
 " Drunk, Tom Hamilton !" exclaimed the peer ; " I feel as if I 
 could not get drunk, if I were to drink the cellar dry. I wish I 
 could. — It's one's only resource at such a time as this." 
 
 " I have heard," replied Tom Hamilton, " that, as the old surgeon 
 said just now, there are other resources, and better ones." 
 
 " Ay, ay, ay 1" cried the peer ; " that's for the future ; but what's 
 to be done for the present ? If one were to go on thinking, it would 
 destroy one ;" and he applied himself to the bottle again. 
 
 "It is very strange, Tom Hamilton," continued the peer, " that I did 
 not care half so much about poor Freddy's death when I thought he 
 was fairly shot in a duel, as I do now M'hen I have seen him knocked 
 down, like an ox by a butcher. — It is very strange, indeed !" 
 
 " It is strange, my lord," replied his companion ; " but yet you 
 know we are more accustomed to duels, and that sort of thing: we 
 talk of them more, hear of them more, think of them more ; and that 
 with which we are familiar, even if it be one of the shapes of death, 
 loses a great part of its terrors. — Besides, this was a horrible piece of 
 business." 
 
 " It was indeed," said the peer. 
 
 " To be killed upon one's wedding-day," continued Tof» Hamilton, 
 " at a merry dinner-party, by a maniac, whom one has driven mad by 
 seducing his daughter ! — It is very horrible !'' 
 
 " Horrible indeed !" murmured the peer ; and he took some more 
 champagne. 
 
 " Do you know, my lord," said Mr. Hamilton, who thought the 
 viscount was certainly drinking too much and too fast — "Do you know, 
 my lord, I tliink it would be better for you to go to bed, and try to 
 sleep. There are a great many sad things to be done, which I can do 
 for you ; and if you endeavour to get a good night's rest you may 
 wake to-morrow with a mind less oppressed, and more equal to the 
 discussion of business." 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRKNDO. 433 
 
 " Well, I will, Tom— I will," replied Lord Outrun. « It is the best 
 thing I can do — I will trust to you to manage matters for me — but I 
 must have a glass of madeira before I go. By jingo ! I must. I 
 always wind up with madeira, you know, Tom. — Ring for Jerry Tripe, 
 and I will go ;" and at the same time the peer filled a tumbler three 
 parts full of madeira, and drank it off at a draught. 
 
 The mind of man is a curious thing, and it is scarcely possible to 
 tell, at times, what are the secret springs from which certain emotions 
 arise. The words " By jingo !" so common in Lord Outrun's mouth, 
 now struck Tom Hamilton more painfully, more horribly than many 
 things perhaps of greater consequence would have done. There was 
 a levity in them which was altogether discordant with the grave 
 feelings of his own heart and with the profound grief which even the 
 speaker endured, that made them harsh and irritating to his ear ; and 
 ringing the bell quickly, Jerry Tripe appeared in a moment. 
 
 " Bring me a light, Jerry," said his lord ; " I am going to bed — 
 come up and help me. Good night, Tom," and he held out his hand 
 to his son's old friend. 
 
 There was scarcely a difference in the tone from that which he was 
 accustomed to employ upon all ordinary occasions. The shock was 
 evidently passing away, and Tom Hamilton mused for several minutes 
 after he was gone, not without a moral effect. 
 
 ** 'Pon my honour," he said to himself, " the sort of life which this 
 old peer has been leading for so many years seems not only to wear 
 away all principles, but even to deprive the natural affections of tone 
 and strength. Nothing on earth appears to make any impression 
 upon him for more than half an hour, or an hour at the farthest ; and 
 I have seen the same with many vicious old men — It's worth while 
 thinking of; for one wouldn't like to get into such a state oneself." 
 
 While he was thus thinking Lord Outrun walked soberly up stairs, 
 with Jerry Tripe lighting him, his step being somewhat slow and 
 feeble, but with no other indication of any change. At the top of the 
 first landing he stopped and said : 
 
 " Is it lightning, Jerry ?" 
 
 " No, my lord," replied the butler, " it's quite a clear night." 
 
 " I thought I saw a flash," said the peer. And he looked up the 
 gallery towards the door of that room which was to have been his 
 son's bridal chamber. 
 
 His heart was not altogether hard, though its sensibilities were 
 worn out, and never had been very deep. 
 
 " I hope they have taken care of the poor girl," he said : " mind 
 she's taken care of, Jerry." 
 
 As he spoke his eye rested on his sister's picture — the often- 
 mentioned picture — taken in her masquerade costume. The memory 
 of that sad dark night came upon him, and the angry passions of the 
 past, and the horrors of the present became suddenly linked together 
 by the magic of association. That the son of her whom he had struck 
 and abused, whose heart he had trampled upon, whose life had withered 
 away under his unkindness, should inherit all, and his own child, 
 
 C. NO. XIV. 2 F 
 
434 THE COMMISSIONEE ; OR, 
 
 brought up in indulgence and vice, should receive death as the punish- 
 ment of his evil course, in the midst of rejoicing on his wedding-day, 
 seemed a strange and a terrible thing, and he felt the hand of wrath 
 upon him. 
 
 " Come, Jerry," he cried, " I shall go to bed — the sooner I'm asleep 
 the better." 
 
 He soon changed his mind, however ; for after Jerry had taken off 
 his coat and waistcoat, and given him his dressing-gown and red night- 
 cap, he said, — 
 
 " I don't like going to bed, either, Jerry. — There, give me down 
 < Rochester's Poems' from the shelf. — Light the rushlight, and put 
 down the candle here." 
 
 " You had better go to bed, my loid," said Jerry. 
 
 " No, I won't, by jingo I" said the peer. " There, that '11 do. — 
 Hang my night-shirt over the back of the chair near me." 
 
 Jerry did as he was bid, and then took his departure. 
 
 After he was gone Lord Outrun sat for about half an hour in his 
 arm-chair, reading the evil book he had chosen. At the end of that 
 time he laid it down, put his hand to his head and said : — 
 
 " How devilish giddy I am — I am sick at the stomach, too. — I'll 
 ring, and have some brandy and water." 
 
 He rose for that purpose, but before he could reach the bell he 
 reeled for a moment, his knees gave way under him, and he sunk down — 
 slowly at first, but then with a heavy fall — and lay prone and senseless 
 on the floor, with a loud and unnatural snoring issuing from his nos- 
 trils. As he fell his head struck the shade of the rushlight slightly, 
 but sufiiciently to knock it over, and it fell against the foot of the 
 chair on which his night-shirt was hanging. The next minute there 
 came a little smoke, and then a sudden flame caught the cloth, gave a 
 flash, and went out again, caught it once more, and played flickering 
 and uncertain upon the edge, then crept slowly up, devouring as it 
 went — the image of vice creeping over the human mind — slow, silent, 
 flickering, destructive, and in the end consuming all. 
 
 In the meanwhile Jerry Tripe had returned to the dining-room, 
 where he found Tom Hamilton still alone. 
 
 " Jerry," said the gentleman as he entered, " I wish you would go 
 and tell those two blackguard* in the library, thaf it is not decent, on 
 a night like this, to be amusing themselves with backgammon. They 
 had better take themselves off" to bed, or out of the castle altogether. 
 The rattling of the dice-box annoys me." 
 
 Jerry Tripe did as Tom Hamilton told him, and Messrs. Winterton 
 and Darius went to bed. 
 
 The worthy butler then returned, and Tom Hamilton said whenever 
 he entered — 
 
 " Come, Jerry, there is much to be done. The first thing to-morrow, 
 you must give notice to the coroner, and I suppose we had better 
 leave the body where it is." 
 
 " Oh ! certainly, Mr. Hamilton," said Jerry ; *' but had you not 
 better write to the coroner, or go and see him ?" 
 
 " I do not half like it," replied Tom Hamilton. " The share I had 
 
DE JLUNATICO INQUIBENDO. 435 
 
 in that mock inquest, Jerry, is not pleasant to me, now we have a 
 real inquest to hold upon the same man. Come, let us take the 
 candle and look at him for a moment." 
 
 Thus saying he proceeded into the other room with a slow and 
 noiseless step. 
 
 Why is it we are so silent and still in the presence of the dead ? — 
 We cannot wake them from their calm and perfect sleep. Our 
 sighs, our tears, the tread of beloved feet, the sound of voices that 
 were once music to their ear, have no effect in breaking that grey, 
 solemn slumber. No more would the heaviest footfall, or the loudest 
 laugh ; and yet we creep into the chamber of death as if fearful of 
 interrupting the short repose of a sick infant. 
 
 There he lay as they had left him, with the blood looking the 
 redder upon the ashy white of his countenance, but no other change 
 in limb or feature. AH was for ever at an end — the seal was set, the 
 warrant of eternity signed, and the worm and the clay were all which 
 would produce any alteration there. 
 
 " 'Tis a sad sight," said Tom Hamilton : " 'tis a sad sight, Jerry. 
 Pray God his father may take this more to heart than he has taken other 
 things, and that we may all receive it as a warning, and make a change." 
 
 " Amen !" said Jerry Tripe, aloud. " I am afraid, Mr. Hamilton, 
 that we have all been in the wrong way." 
 
 " I fear so very much,'* said Tom Hamilton. " We have been 
 dreaming, Jerry ; but these things wake one. You had better set some- 
 body to watch here, Jerry, and send off express for the coroner to- 
 morrow. I will go to bed now, and be up early — but first take care 
 that poor Mrs. Fitzurse has some one to sit up with her — slie is in a 
 terrible state, poor girL" 
 
 " Sally is with her, sir," said Jerry Tripe. " I went to see about 
 her before I came back to you ; my lord sent me." 
 
 " I am glad of that — I am very glad of that," said Tom Hamilton ; 
 " that shows some good feeling, at least." 
 
 " Oh ! yes, sir," cried Jerry. " Oh ! yes, he can be very kind when 
 he likes it. — I am sure I have cause to say so, who have served him 
 from a boy, poor man," and Jerry's eyes grew moist. 
 
 Tom Hamilton turned slowly into the dining-room again, talked for 
 about a quarter of an hour longer with Jerry Tripe, and then walked 
 away to his own chamber. He returned almost immediately to the 
 dining-room to tell the butler and a footman who was now there helping 
 Jerry to remove the dinner things, that they had better look well over 
 the house, as there was a smell of fire. 
 
 " Oh ! sir," said the footman, " it is nothing but the bonfire which 
 some of those boys lighted before they went away from the park ; the 
 wind has drifted the smoke into the windows." 
 
 " I dare say that is it," said Tom Hamilton, and thus satisfied he 
 turned back to his own room. Tom Hamilton pulled off" his clothes 
 and went to bed, but he did not sleep. The excited brain would not 
 give up its activity, thought followed thought, memory crossed memory, 
 purpose struggled with purpose, and he lay gazing upon the darkness, 
 and wishing that he had not gone to bed at all 
 
436 THE COMMISSIONER ; OR, 
 
 His room was in a different angle of the house from that of the 
 peer, turning to the left, by the small corridor, as you went up the 
 great stairs — you recollect it quite well, dear reader, I dare say. 
 However, that corridor ran round and formed a crooked line of com- 
 nmnication — one side and two half sides of a parallelogram — so there 
 was easy means of walking from one to the other. 
 
 Smoke, however is not of the same rapid propensities as steam, 
 and it was about an hour and a half after Tom Hamilton had 
 got into bed before he perceived that the smell of fire, which 
 had caught his attention as he went up the stairs, had not only reached 
 his own room, but was growing stronger and stronger. Tom at first 
 thought that it was fancy, and he called himself a fool, and accused 
 himself of being nervous. He turned round upon his side, and tried 
 to fall asleep, but he soon became convinced that although there may 
 occasionally be imaginations of the nose as well as of any other organ, 
 his olfactory nerves were not deceiving him on the present occasion. 
 As soon as he had quite convinced himself of this fact, as the reader 
 may suppose, he started out of bed in a great hurry, determined to see 
 with his own eyes what was the matter. As he did so he heard a low, 
 rushing sound, like a strong wind, and by the time he had thrown on 
 his dressing-gown, a crackling caught his ear. On opening his 
 door he found the corridor filled with suffocating smoke, and more 
 distinctly heard the sounds which had before caught his ear but 
 faintly. 
 
 " By Jove the house is on fire !" he cried ; " that is clear. Where 
 can this be coming from ? Hi ! holla ! fire ! fire !" 
 
 "Mr. Hamilton, Mr. Hamilton," shouted a voice from the end of 
 the passage, which he recognised as that of Jerry Tripe, " the great 
 corridor is full of fire — it's coming from my lord's room.'* 
 
 " I thought so,'* cried Tom Hamilton, running forward. " Quick ! 
 Carry Mrs. Fitzurse out of the house. Get up all the servants, and 
 bring them up the great staircase. — Send them up with buckets to the 
 fire tank. But first get out Mrs. Fitzurse.** 
 
 " But, my lord, my lord !'* cried Jerry Tripe, who was well nigh in 
 puris naturabilis. 
 
 " I will see after him,** cried Tom Hamilton. " Be quick ! be quick ! 
 there is no time to be lost.*' 
 
 Away ran Jerry Tripe, away ran Tom Hamilton — the former to call 
 the other servants, most of whom were still asleep ; the latter to waken 
 Lord Outrun and save him from the flames. But when Tom Hamilton 
 reached the end of the corridor leading to th€ peer's room, a scene 
 presented itself which almost daunted his courage. Volumes of thick 
 smoke, through which it was impossible to see any thing at more than 
 a few yards' distance, were rolhng down, tinted with a fiery red, while 
 a flash broke across them every now and then, as if some sudden flame 
 burst 'forth from time to time from some of the rooms beyond, while 
 through the dense and suffocating vapour small spots and lines of fire 
 appeared, running along the rich mouldings of the old oak wainscottings, 
 and catching upon the elaborately carved wreaths which ornamented 
 the pannelling. 
 
DB LUNATICO OQUIRENDO. 437 
 
 He paused for a single instant, then rushed forward into the smoke, 
 caught the pulley of the alarm bell, and rang a loud, quick peal. 
 Nearly opposite was the door of the viscount's room, and, to Tom 
 Hamilton's sincere joy, he saw that it offered no appearance of fire, 
 though from another, some ten yards beyond, tlie flame was flashing 
 forth fiercely. 
 
 " 1 thought that further room was uninhabited," he said to himself, 
 as he rushed across towards Lord Outrun' s chamber, and threw the 
 door wide open. But there, as soon as he had done so, the whole burst 
 upon his sight. 
 
 The fire had spread from that which it had first caught to the cur- 
 tains of the bed, thence to the cornices, thence to the door leading into 
 the neighbouring room, thence, after smouldering for some time, to the 
 room beyond itself, and a window there having been accidentally left 
 open, the whole was speedily in a blaze, the door leading into the corri- 
 dor consumed, and a thorough draught established, adding tenfold 
 intensity to the flames. Thus, the whole of that chamber was on fire 
 in every part, while that of the viscount, though filled with smoke, and 
 with the bedding still smouldering, was comparatively free. 
 
 Lord Outrun himself still lay exactly where he had fallen: one part 
 of his dressing-gown had been on fire, but had gone out, and his white 
 hair was singed ; but these were the only marks of fire upon him ; and 
 Tom Hamilton tried to rouse him, and raise him from the floor. To 
 his surprise, he found him stifi" and cold. 
 
 Strong as he was, it was with difficulty he lifted the body of the bulky 
 old man ; but at length, scorched with the heat, and half smothered 
 with the smoke, he carried it through the blazing corridor to the top of 
 the stairs. There, however, he met two footmen running up with buckets 
 full of water, while others were seen in the hall below, rushing hither 
 and thither in all the frantic absurdities of fear. Jerry Tripe was up 
 in a moment after, saying, as soon as he saw Tom Hamilton, " She is 
 safe, she is safe, poor girl ! But she says she would rather die.'* 
 
 Great difficulty was now found in giving order and regularity to the 
 people of the house ; and much time was lost, in spite of all Tom 
 Hamilton could do, while the fire made head in every direction. Water, 
 too, was not easily procured, for the direct way to the tank was cut off^, 
 and it could only be reached by a back staircase of stone ; and very 
 soon the upper story also caught the flames, and the flooring of some 
 of the rooms fell in. 
 
 It now became evident that th e hoi se could not be saved, and Tom 
 Hamilton, with the servants, applied themselves to carrying out the pic- 
 tures, books, furniture, and plate. Before this could be accomplished, the 
 flames were bursting from every window, the whole park around was 
 illuminated, the deer bounded away in terror, and the startled oxen 
 gazed and tossed their heads at the unwonted sight. 
 
 The village of Outrun was soon alarmed, and down came trooping 
 in multitudes the same busy, idle crowd which had surrounded that 
 house not many hours before, to take part in the festivities of the wed- 
 ding of the heir ; and now they found father and sen together, lying 
 dead upon the terrace before the house, with the unhappy bride a 
 
438 THE commissioner; oh, 
 
 widow on her wedding-day. Harry Worrel was amongst the first, and 
 dreadfully shocked he was, as may be supposed, to learn that death 
 on the same night had taken the last of his new-found relations. By 
 this time it was impossible to enter any of the doors of the house ; 
 and, just as the engines arrived from Market Greenford, the roof fell 
 in with a tremendous crash, and the last of all the many strange, fan- 
 tastic, and terrible events of which Outrun Castle had been the scene, 
 was accomplished in its own destruction. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXH. 
 
 MOW THE STORY CAME TO AN END HOW HARRY WORBBL MABRIBD LAUBA LONG- 
 MORE MR. SCAPULARY's PROPERTY ENRICHED JOEY PIKE BETSY TROLLOP 
 
 VTAS PROVIDED FOR MR. SMALLDRAM AND MRS. SCAPULARY HANGED AND 
 
 EVERY BODY VERY HAPPY. 
 
 " The autumn time is a merry, merry time — 
 
 And a merry, merry time is the autumn biown ; 
 And it is sweet to hear the church-bells chime, 
 While the reapers smite the red grain down.'* 
 
 It was in that merry time — ay, reader, and the chime of the bells, too, 
 was heard over the village of Outrun, and over the fields and meadows 
 round about — when, some two months after the tragic events with which 
 our last chapter closed, Harry Worrel, now Lord Fitzurse, led forth 
 from the altar fair Laura Longmore, the one whom he had always loved. 
 
 There is scarcely a woman in the world who does not look 
 pretty on her wedding day ; but Laura had always been one of the 
 prettiest creatures imaginable, and she certainly did not look less lovely 
 than usual. 
 
 Harry Worrel, on his part, was in all the brightness of happiness. 
 Fate had at length began to smile upon him, and from that time he had 
 no cause to call Fortune fickle. 
 
 Mr. Longmore, as in duty bound, had given the bride away : 
 the chevalier signed the marriage ceremony ; and the name of 
 De Lunatico may still be seen attached to that mundane transaction 
 in the books of the parish of Outrun. If the truth must be 
 told, Mr. de Lunatico, differing from the usual opinion, did 
 not think the amorous follies of a bride and bridegroom 
 amongst the most lunatic things he had seen on earth. Far 
 from it : he thought it very natural, very ri:.^ht, and very proper, 
 that a young man of five or six-and-twenty she i. Id feel himself uncom- 
 monly happy in possession of a woman whom he loved, and a girl of 
 eighteen or nineteen, timid, but not displeased to give her hand to one 
 who possessed the first affection of her heart. Indeed, the chevalier 
 
DE LUNATICO INQUIRENDO. 439 
 
 himself was rather gayer than ordinary, and in various points of his 
 demeanour, there were strong touches of the place from whence he 
 came, which, however, we shall not pause upon here. 
 
 Besides the aforenamed persons, there were a number of others 
 present, invited by the family of the bride, and almost the whole parish 
 of Outrun, without any invitation at all. In the tall man in black, dear 
 reader, with the straight-cut coat and clear sparkling eyes, who stands 
 behind Mr. Longmore, and looks full of a sort of a splenetic content- 
 ment, which he will not suffer to run over, you immediately recognise 
 Mr. Longshanks. But who is that fair-haired youth, with a pair of 
 not very well-grown mustachios, who appears somewhat behind, on the 
 left hand, in the attitude of the Antinous ? 
 
 You have not forgotten Joey Pike, surely ? — and the cause 
 of the harvest displayed by his upper lip is, that Joey is now a 
 wealthy man — Mr. Scapulary's last will, together m ith the reward pro- 
 mised and paid by Mr. Longmore, having given him more than a hun- 
 dred a-year. Thus, Joey is a great personage, not only in his own 
 estimation, but in that of all the neighbourhood ; and he has faint visions 
 of a distant relationship between himself and the great house of Lucy, 
 which bears upon its shield three of the fish called Luce, or Pike — 
 which, indeed, gives greater probability to the connexion than is gene- 
 rally required by the Herald's College on such occasions. 
 
 There is one strong objection, however, which has prevented Joey 
 from putting in an open claim to that alliance. He fears that it might 
 prove a bar to his speedy union with Miss de Tuppins, which his con- 
 stant heart could not brook, either for the ancestry of a Lucy, or 
 for the tender interest attached to the situation of a a'ossed and 
 disappointed lover. 
 
 While speaking on the subject of Joey Pike, and the fortune which 
 he derived from Mr. Scapulary, we are naturally led to say that the 
 unhappy girl whose weakness, together with the vice of another, made 
 her the cause of some of the most tragic incidents in this book, was 
 suddenly rescued from a life of crime and misery by the land and 
 houses of old Scapulary falling to her as his next of kin. Betsy 
 Trollop, however, never returned to Outrun, but, hiring a small house 
 not far from Market Greenford, she passed the rest of her days in 
 bringing up her child in a course of virtue, which she had herself 
 once abandoned, and in daily visiting her mihappy father, who never 
 recovered his senses. 
 
 The widow of Mr. Tobias Scapulary, about ten days after the marriage 
 of Harry Worrel with Laura Longmore, and her friend, Mr. Thomas 
 Smalldram were, as the naval world says, placed in dock, but not for the 
 purpose of repair. The cruel attorney-general had refused to admit Mr. 
 Smalldram as king's evidence, thinking that there was quite sufficient 
 before him to convict both the lady and gentleman of certain practices in 
 regard to the windpipe of Mr. Scapulary, which were likely to produce 
 similar results in regard to their own. His opinion on the subject 
 proved much more sound than that of many other lawyers in many 
 other cases, for the jury took the same view of the matter, the judge 
 did not differ with them in the least, and after putting a black cap 
 
440 THE COMMISSIONER. 
 
 upon his head, he gave them warning in regard to the employment of 
 their future life, which was destined to be very short. 
 
 On the Monday morning following these two personages underwent 
 the brutal extremity of the English law. If ever two persons did 
 deserve it they did, and the only people to be pitied were the Eng- 
 lish nation, who certainly never did any thing, collectively, to merit 
 the infliction upon them of such disgraceful exhibitions. 
 
 Jerry Tripe attended the marriage of Harry Worrel, but by that 
 time, reader, he had fallen, quick as it may seem, into an old man. 
 His goodly paunch was gone, his rounded limbs were shrunk, the fiery 
 nose had become blue and pinched, and it was evident that sorrow, 
 regret, and remorse had taken possession of that once merry and 
 reckless heart. Though one could not help condemning him, there 
 were few there who could help being sorry for him either, when 
 some six months afterwards they laid his head beneath the turf. 
 
 A fortnight after the wedding, in a pretty house that Mr. Longmore 
 had taken near Market Greenford, till the castle and hall should be 
 rebuilt, sat the Chevalier de Lunatico, with Laura, her husband, Mr. 
 Longmore, and the good surgeon. The chevalier announced to them 
 after dinner, in a tone of much regret, that be must quit them on the 
 following morning early. Each expressed his sorrow, but Mr. Long- 
 shanks exclaimed — 
 
 " Well, chevalier, I suppose you must go on your journey, to distri- 
 bute your little billets of invitation about the world ; and considering 
 all the folly you have seen amongst us, I should not be at all surprised 
 if you took us with you." 
 
 *' No," replied the chevalier ; " I see that my instructions are not 
 sufficiently ample, and I must return for a time to my own sphere to 
 take information upon the subject. I find that every one I have met 
 with has his own particular madness, but in most cases there is some- 
 thing to make me doubt whether he really belongs to us or not. As 
 soon as I have gained further instructions I shall return to this earth, 
 and then you shall not fail to have another visit from 
 
 " The Commissioner." 
 
 THE END. 
 
 Dubllu: rriat«d by J. S. Folds, Son, Rnd Fatton, f , Bachelor's- walk. 
 
af. 
 
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