Evan Harrington | Page 6

deplorable and extraordinary now that
Mr. Melchisedec was no longer in a position to run on with it, and it
was precisely his doing so which had prevented it from being brought
to a summary close long before. Both Barnes, the butcher; and Grossby,
the confectioner, confessed that they, too, found it hard ever to say 'No'
to him, and, speaking broadly, never could.
'Except once,'said Barnes, 'when he wanted me to let him have a ox to
roast whole out on the common, for the Battle of Waterloo. I stood out
against him on that. "No, no," says I, "I'll joint him for ye, Mr.

Harrington. You shall have him in joints, and eat him at home";-ha!
ha!'
'Just like him!' said Grossby, with true enjoyment of the princely
disposition that had dictated the patriotic order.
'Oh!--there!' Kilne emphasized, pushing out his arm across the bar, as
much as to say, that in anything of such a kind, the great Mel never had
a rival.
'That "Marquis" affair changed him a bit,' said Barnes.
'Perhaps it did, for a time,' said Kilne. 'What's in the grain, you know.
He couldn't change. He would be a gentleman, and nothing 'd stop him.'
'And I shouldn't wonder but what that young chap out in Portugal 'll
want to be one, too; though he didn't bid fair to be so fine a man as his
father.'
'More of a scholar,' remarked Kilne. 'That I call his worst fault--
shilly-shallying about that young chap. I mean his.' Kilne stretched a
finger toward the dead man's house. 'First, the young chap's to be sent
into the Navy; then it's the Army; then he's to be a judge, and sit on
criminals; then he goes out to his sister in Portugal; and now there's
nothing but a tailor open to him, as I see, if we're to get our money.'
'Ah! and he hasn't got too much spirit to work to pay his father's debts,'
added Barnes. 'There's a business there to make any man's
fortune-properly directed, I say. But, I suppose, like father like son,
he'll becoming the Marquis, too. He went to a gentleman's school, and
he's had foreign training. I don't know what to think about it. His sisters
over there--they were fine women.'
'Oh! a fine family, every one of 'em! and married well!' exclaimed the
publican.
'I never had the exact rights of that "Marquis" affair,' said Grossby; and,
remembering that he had previously laughed knowingly when it was

alluded to, pursued: 'Of course I heard of it at the time, but how did he
behave when he was blown upon?'
Barnes undertook to explain; but Kilne, who relished the narrative quite
as well, and was readier, said: 'Look here! I 'll tell you. I had it from his
own mouth one night when he wasn't--not quite himself. He was
coming down King William Street, where he stabled his horse, you
know, and I met him. He'd been dining out-somewhere out over Fallow
field, I think it was; and he sings out to me, "Ah! Kilne, my good
fellow!" and I, wishing to be equal with him, says, "A fine night, my
lord!" and he draws himself up--he smelt of good company--says he,
"Kilne! I'm not a lord, as you know, and you have no excuse for
mistaking me for one, sir!" So I pretended I had mistaken him, and then
he tucked his arm under mine, and said, "You're no worse than your
betters, Kilne. They took me for one at Squire Uplift's to-night, but a
man who wishes to pass off for more than he is, Kilne, and impose
upon people," he says, "he's contemptible, Kilne! contemptible!" So
that, you know, set me thinking about "Bath" and the "Marquis," and I
couldn't help smiling to myself, and just let slip a question whether he
had enlightened them a bit. "Kilne," said he, "you're an honest man, and
a neighbour, and I'll tell you what happened. The Squire," he says,
"likes my company, and I like his table. Now the Squire 'd never do a
dirty action, but the Squire's nephew, Mr. George Uplift, he can't forget
that I earn my money, and once or twice I have had to correct him."
And I'll wager Mel did it, too! Well, he goes on: "There was Admiral
Sir Jackson Racial and his lady, at dinner, Squire Falco of Bursted,
Lady Barrington, Admiral Combleman"--our admiral, that was; 'Mr.
This and That', I forget their names--and other ladies and gentlemen
whose acquaintance I was not honoured with." You know his way of
talking. "And there was a goose on the table," he says; and, looking
stern at me, "Don't laugh yet!" says he, like thunder. Well, he goes on:
"Mr. George caught my eye