The Square of Sevens | Page 2

Bath," was called in the month
of November to pass sundry months in Tretelly, that antique but still
lively little town of Cornwall. He describes himself as "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years wholly withdrawn.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 séances 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