The Square of Sevens | Page 2

"exceedingly vexed and inconvenienced by Summons on my Affairs connected with the Parcelling of a piece of Property, unexpectedly acquired." Mr. Antrobus--who, by-the-bye, may perhaps be associated in the memories of readers of minor Eighteenth-Century correspondence with such notables of the day as William Pitt, Dr. Johnson, Admiral Byng, Mark Akenside, William Pulteney, the Duke of Cumberland, and many others of the time--was a shy, silent man of wealth. Also was he one of considerable learning, out of the way and other, including an interest in gypsies and gypsy language remarkable for the period.
He lodged at "the only Inn of any suitability" in the place. Thereby be made an unexpected acquaintance. Before a week had elapsed, he became much interested in the fact that under the same roof, but in more bumble quarters than his own, was lying and dying another stranger in the place. This was a man of some forty years, known only as "Mr. George." His home is not a clear matter, nor that he had any relatives except a little girl of six or seven years old, his child. It is likely that in alluding to him in the "Prefatory Explication" mentioned, Mr. Antrobus disguised what was already obscure, and that "Mr. George" of the "troublesome Talk of the Inn-people" is an abbreviated pseudonyme.
Mr. Antrobus was a humane and benevolent man, as well as an inquisitive one. He delicately assisted to make the sick guest more comfortable in his wasting body. He won his confidence, genuinely compassionated his anxieties, and presently pledged himself to a most kindly office--the care and provision in future for the child soon to be fatherless; long before this time motherless. Whether she was motherless by the actual death of the parent, or not, Mr. Antrobus did not learn, or does not tell. But he did learn, by a confession, that "Mr. George" was really George X--, a gypsy, and one withal of unusual education and breeding. More remarkable still, he was a gypsy intensely embittered against' a race from which he had lived for many years wholly withdrawn. The cause of such sentiments and renegade existence good Mr. Antrobus "tryed in vain, with much Delicacy" to discover. At the clearest, it appeared to him to date from the dying man's marriage and from some stormy period of his career. In any case, the renunciation of "Mr. George" in lot and part in gypsydom was of savage sincerity. He would not tolerate the idea of his child being left open to such influences; and, as a matter of her happy fortune in meeting with our kind Bath antiquarian, she never encountered them.
Recognising in his benefactor not only a generous man, but one genuinely interested in the whole topic of gypsy life, character, and affairs (moderately studied at the time preceding a Borrow or a Leland), "George X--" entertained Mr. Antrobus "for hours and dayes" in what must have been an extraordinarily free parliament. It discussed not merely the concerns in general, but the secrets, of Egypt. "Mr. George" bad travelled much. He bad acquired a deal of special knowledge delightful to Antrobus. It is provoking that Antrobus did not commit more of it to paper. But, among other matters, Mr. Antrobus was enlightened on the secrets of looking into dukkeripens in a degree of minuteness that few gorgios enjoy.
As part of this last confidence--the rarest from one of the Blood-- did George X-- disclose in course of certain s��ances the "Square of Sevens," that most particular and potent method of prying into the past and present and future. In it figures the wonderful "Parallelogram," with its "Master Cards," "Influences," and so on-- which our book records. Moreover, George X-- declared that whereas most of his race can or will use only corrupted or quite frivolous versions of it, this statement set its real and rare self forth with the utmost purity, value, and completeness, in a degree "known to only a few of all the families of Egypt." As such a weighty bit of Black Art did Mr. Antrobus make its details into a book. As such he printed it. Doubtless he thought that a betrayed secret may lawfully be re-betrayed as fully as possible.
Nevertheless, it was not so much of a re-betrayal. For less than what a publisher of this day would call one fair-sized edition of "The Square of Sevens," printed for Antrobus by the great John Gowne, of The Mask book-shop, has ever appeared. And, to account for the semi-privacy surrounding the little work, must be set forth the dolesome incident of a printing-house fire burning, "all except about a dozen or so of copies," before there had been any "distribution of the Book" among the author's "Friends, Male or, Female, or to the Publick." By some sudden change