CHAPTER VIII.
MR. BRISKET THINKS HE SEES HIS WAY, AND MR. ROBINSON AGAIN WALKS ONBLACKFRIARS BRIDGE.
For some half-hour on that night, as Robinson had slowly walkedbackwards and forwards across the bridge, ideas of suicide hadflitted across his mind. Should he not put an end to all this,--toall this and so much else that harassed him and made life weary."''Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished,'" he said, as he lookeddown into the dark river. And then he repeated a good deal more,expressing his desire to sleep, but acknowledging that his dreams inthat strange bed might be the rub. "And thus 'calamity must stilllive on,'" he said, as he went home to his lodgings.
Then came those arrangements as to the partnership and the house inBishopsgate Street, which have already been narrated. During theweeks which produced these results, he frequently saw Maryanne inSmithfield, but never spoke to her, except on the ordinary topics ofthe day. In his demeanour he was courteous to her, but he never onceaddressed her except as Miss Brown, and always with a politenesswhich was as cold as it was studied. On one or two occasions hethought that he observed in her manner something that showed a wishfor reconciliation; but still he said nothing to her. "She hastreated me like a dog," he said to himself, "and yet I love her. IfI tell her so, she will treat me worse than a dog." Then he heard,also, that Brisket had declared more than once that he could not seehis way. "I could see mine," he said, "as though a star guided me,if she should but stretch forth her hand to me and ask me to forgiveher."
It was some week or two after the deed of partnership had beensigned, and when the house at No. 81 had been just taken, thatMiss Twizzle came to Robinson. He was, at the moment, engaged incomposition for an illustrious house in the Minories that shall benameless; but he immediately gave his attention to Miss Twizzle,though at the moment he was combating the difficulties of a rhymewhich it had been his duty to repeat nineteen times in the same poem."I think that will do," said he, as he wrote it down. "And yet it'slame,--very lame:
But no lady ever loses By going to the shop of--"
And then Miss Twizzle entered.
"I see you are engaged," said she, "and, perhaps, I had better callanother time."
"By no means, Miss Twizzle; pray be seated. How is everything goingon at the Hall of Harmony?"
"I haven't been there, Mr. Robinson, since that night as Mr. Brisketdid behave so bad. I got such a turn that night, as I can't endurethe sight of the room ever since. If you'll believe me, I can't."
"It was not a pleasant occurrence," said Robinson. "I felt it verykeenly. A man's motives are so vilely misconstrued, Miss Twizzle. Ihave been accused of--of--cowardice."
"Not by me, Mr. Robinson. I did say you should have stuck up a bit;but I didn't mean anything like that."
"Well; it's over now. When are they to be married, Miss Twizzle?"
"Now, Mr. Robinson, don't you talk like that. You wouldn't take itall calm that way if you thought she was going to have him."
"I mean to take it very calm for the future."
"But I suppose you're not going to give her up. It wouldn't be likeyou, that wouldn't."
"She has spurned me, Miss Twizzle; and after that--."
"Oh, spurn! that's all my eye. Of course she has. There's a little ofthat always, you know,--just for the fun of the thing. The course oflove shouldn't run too smooth. I wouldn't give a straw for a youngman if he wouldn't let me spurn him sometimes."
"But you wouldn't call him a--a--"
"A what? A coward, is it? Indeed but I would, or anything else thatcame uppermost. Laws! what's the good of keeping company if you ain'tto say just what comes uppermost at the moment. 'Twas but the otherday I called my young man a raskil."
"It was in sport, no doubt."
"I was that angry at the time I could have tore him limb from limb;I was, indeed. But he says, 'Polly,' says he, 'if I'm a he-raskil,you're a she-raskil; so that needn't make any difference between us.'And no more it didn't. He gets his salary rose in January, and thenwe shall be married."
"I wish you all the happiness that married life can bestow," saidRobinson.
"That's very prettily said, and I wish the same to you. Only youmustn't be so down like. There's Maryanne; she says you haven't aword for her now."
"She'll find as many words as she likes in Aldersgate Street, nodoubt."
"Now, Robinson, if you're going to go on like that, you are notthe man I always took you for. You didn't suppose that a girl likeMaryanne isn't to have her bit of fun as long as it lasts. Them asis as steady as old horses before marriage usually has their colt'sfling after marriage. Maryanne's principles is good, and that'severything;--ain't it?"
"I impute nothing to Miss Brown, except that she is false, andmercenary, and cruel."
"Exactly; just a she-raskil, as Tom called me. I was mercenary andall the rest of it. But, laws! what's that between friends? The longand short of it is this; is Barkis willing? If Barkis is willing,then a certain gentleman as we know in the meat trade may suithimself elsewhere. Come; answer that. Is Barkis willing?"
For a minute or two Robinson sat silent, thinking of the indignitieshe had endured. That he loved the girl,--loved her warmly, with allhis heart,--was only too true. Yes; he loved her too well. Had hisaffection been of a colder nature, he would have been able to standoff for awhile, and thus have taught the lady a lesson which mighthave been of service. But, in his present mood, the temptation wastoo great for him, and he could not resist it. "Barkis is willing,"said he. And thus, at the first overture, he forgave her all theinjury she had done him. A man never should forgive a woman unless hehas her absolutely in his power. When he does so, and thus wipes outall old scores, he merely enables her to begin again.
But Robinson had said the word, and Miss Twizzle was not the woman toallow him to go back from it. "That's well," said she. "And now I'lltell you what. Tom and I are going to drink tea in Smithfield, withold Brown, you know. You'll come too; and then, when old Brown goesto sleep, you and Maryanne will make it up." Of course she had herway; and Robinson, though he repented himself of what he was doingbefore she was out of the room, promised to be there.
And he was there. When he entered Mr. Brown's sitting-room he foundMaryanne and Miss Twizzle, but Miss Twizzle's future lord had notyet come. He did not wait for Mr. Brown to go to sleep, but at oncedeclared the purpose of his visit.
"Shall I say 'Maryanne?'" said he, putting out his hand; "or is it tobe 'Miss Brown?'"
"Well, I'm sure," said she; "there's a question! If 'Miss Brown' willdo for you, sir, it will do uncommon well for me."
"Call her 'Maryanne,' and have done with it," said Miss Twizzle. "Ihate all such nonsense, like poison."
"George," said the old man, "take her, and may a father's blessing goalong with her. We are partners in the haberdashery business, and nowwe shall be partners in everything." Then he rose up, as though hewere going to join their hands.
"Oh, father, I know a trick worth two of that!" said Maryanne."That's not the way we manage these things now-a-days, is it, Polly?"
"I don't know any better way," said Polly, "when Barkis is willing."
"Maryanne," said Robinson, "let bygones be bygones."
"With all my heart," said she. "All of them, if you like."
"No, not quite all, Maryanne. Those moments in which I first declaredwhat I felt for you can never be bygones for me. I have neverfaltered in my love; and now, if you choose to accept my hand in thepresence of your father, there it is."
"God bless you, my boy! God bless you!" said Mr. Brown.
"Come, Maryanne," said Miss Twizzle, "he has spoke out now, quitemanly; and you should give him an answer."
"But he is so imperious, Polly! If he only sees me speaking toanother, in the way of civility--as, of course, I must,--he's up withhis grand ways, and I'm put in such a trembling that I don't know howto open my mouth."
Of course, every one will know how the affair ended on that evening.The quarrels of lovers have ever been the rene
wal of love. Miss Browndid accept Mr. Robinson's vows; Mr. Brown did go to sleep; Tom, whosesalary was about to be raised to the matrimonial point, did arrive;and the evening was passed in bliss and harmony.
Then, again, for a week or two did George Robinson walk upon roses.It could not now be thrown in his teeth that some other suitor wasan established tradesman; for such also was his proud position. Hewas one of that firm whose name was already being discussed in thecommercial world, and could feel that the path to glory was openbeneath his feet. It was during these days that those original ideasas to the name and colour of the house, and as to its architecturalornamentation, came from his brain, and that he penned many of thoseadvertisements which afterwards made his reputation so great. It wasthen that he so plainly declared his resolve to have his own way inhis own department, and startled his partners by the firmness of hispurpose. It need hardly be said that gratified love was the sourcefrom whence he drew his inspiration.
"And now let us name the day," said Robinson, as soon as that otherday,--the opening day for Magenta House,--had been settled. Allnature would then be smiling. It would be the merry month of May; andRobinson suggested that, after the toil of the first fortnight ofthe opening, a day's holiday for matrimonial purposes might well beaccorded to him. "We'll go to the bowers of Richmond, Maryanne," saidhe.
"God bless you, my children," said Mr. Brown. "And as for theholiday, Jones shall see the shutters down, and I will see them upagain."
"What!" said Maryanne. "This next first of June as ever is? I'll dono such thing."
"Why not, my own one?"
"I never heard the like! Where am I to get my things? And you willhave no house taken or anything. If you think I'm going into lodgingslike Sarah Jane, you're mistook. I don't marry unless I have thingscomfortable about me,--furniture, and all that. While you were inyour tantrums, George, I once went to see William Brisket's house."
"---- William Brisket!" said Robinson. Perhaps, he was wrong in usingsuch a phrase, but it must be confessed that he was sorely tried. Whobut a harpy would have alluded to the comforts of a rival's domesticestablishment at such a moment as that? Maryanne Brown was a harpy,and is a harpy to this day.
"There, father," said she, "look at that! just listen to him! Youwouldn't believe me before. What's a young woman to look for witha man as can go on like that?--cursing and swearing before one'sface,--quite awful!"
"He was aggravated, Maryanne," said the old man.
"Yes, and he'll always be being aggravated. If he thinks as I ain'tgoing to speak civil of them as has always spoke civil to me, he's inthe wrong of it. William Brisket never went about cursing at me inthat way."
"I didn't curse at you, Maryanne."
"If William Brisket had anything to say of a rival, he said it outhonest. 'Maryanne,' said he to me once, 'if that young man comesafter you any more, I'll polish his head off his shoulders.' Now,that was speaking manly; and, if you could behave like that, you'dget yourself respected. But as for them rampagious Billingsgate waysbefore a lady, I for one haven't been used to it, and I won't put upwith it!" And so she bounced out of the room.
"You shouldn't have swore at her, George," said Mr. Brown.
"Swear at her!" said Robinson, putting his hand up to his head,as though he found it almost impossible to collect his scatteredthoughts. "But it doesn't matter. The world may swear at her for menow; and the world will swear at her!" So saying, he left the house,went hastily down Snow Hill, and again walked moodily on the bridgeof Blackfriars. "'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished," saidhe: "--devoutly!--devoutly! And when they take me up,--up to her,would it be loving, or would it be loathing?--A nasty, cold, moist,unpleasant body!" he went on. "Ah me! it would be loathing! Hehadn't a father; he hadn't a mother; he hadn't a sister; he hadn't abrother;--but he had a dearer one still, and a nearer one yet, thanall other.--'To be or not to be; that is the question.'--He must inground unsanctified be lodged, till the last trumpet! Ah, there's therub! But for that, who would these fardels bear?" Then he made up hismind that the fardels must still be borne, and again went home to hislodgings.
This had occurred some little time before the opening of the house,and on the next morning George Robinson was at his work as hard,--ay,harder--than ever. He had pledged himself to the firm, and was awarethat it would ill become him to allow private sorrows to interferewith public duties. On that morrow he was more enterprising thanever, and it was then that he originated the idea of the four men inarmour, and of Fame with her classical horn and gilded car.
"She'll come round again, George," said Mr. Brown, "and then take herat the hop."
"She'll hop no more for me," said George Robinson, sternly. But onthis matter he was weak as water, and this woman was able to turn himround her little finger.
On the fourteenth of May, the day previous to the opening of thehouse, Robinson was seated upstairs alone, still at work on some ofhis large posters. There was no sound to be heard but the hammers ofthe workmen below; and the smell of the magenta paint, as it dried,was strong in his nostrils. It was then that one of the workmen cameup to him, saying that there was a gentleman below who wished tosee him. At this period Robinson was anxious to be called on bycommercial gentlemen, and at once sent down civil word, begging thatthe gentleman would walk up. With heavy step the gentleman did walkup, and William Brisket was shown into the room.
"Sir," said George Robinson as soon as he saw him, "I did not expectthis honour from you." And then he bethought himself of his desire totear out the monster's tongue, and began to consider whether he mightdo it now.
"I don't know much about honour," said Brisket; "but it seems to mean understandin's wanted 'twixt you and I."
"There can be none such," said Robinson.
"Oh, but there must."
"It is not within the compass of things. You, sir, cannot understandme;--your intellectual vision is too limited. And I,--I will notunderstand you."
"Won't you, by jingo! Then your vision shall be limited, as far astwo uncommon black eyes can limit it. But come, Robinson, if youdon't want to quarrel, I don't."
"As for quarrelling," said Robinson, "it is the work of children.Come, Brisket, will you jump with me into yonder river? The firstthat reaches the further side, let him have her!" And he pointed upBishopsgate Street towards the Thames.
"Perhaps you can swim?" said Brisket.
"Not a stroke!" said Robinson.
"Then what a jolly pair of fools we should be!"
"Ah-h-h-h! That's the way to try a man's metal!"
"If you talk to me about metal, young man, I'll drop into you.You've been a-sending all manner of messages to me about a barrelof gunpowder and that sort of thing, and it's my mind that you're alittle out of your own. Now I ain't going to have anything to do withgunpowder, nor yet with the river. It's a nasty place is the river;and when I want a wash I shan't go there."
"'Dreadfully staring through muddy impurity!'" said Robinson.
"Impurity enough," continued the other; "and I won't have anything todo with it. Now, I'll tell you what. Will you give me your word, as aman, never to have nothing more to say to Maryanne Brown?"
"Never again to speak to her?"
"Not, except in the way of respect, when she's Mrs. Brisket."
"Never again to clasp her hand in mine?"
"Not by no means. And if you want me to remain quiet, you'd a dealbetter stow that kind of thing. I'll tell you what it is--I'mbeginning to see my way with old Brown."
"Et tu, Brute?" said Robinson, clasping his hands together.
"I'm beginning to see my way with old Brown," continued Brisket;"and, to tell you the truth at once, I don't mean to be interferedwith."
"Has--my partner--promised--her hand to you?"
"Yes, he has; and five hundred pounds with it."
"And she--?"
"Oh, she's all right. There isn't any doubt about she. I've just comefrom she, as you call her. Now that I see my way, she and I is to beone."
"And where's the money to come from, Mr. Brisket?"
"The father 'll stand the money--in course."
"I don't know where he'll get it, then; certainly not out of thecapital of our business, Mr. Brisket. And since you are so keen aboutseeing your way, Mr. Brisket, I advise you to be quite sure that youdo see it."
"That's my business, young man; I've never been bit yet, and I don'tknow as I'm going to begin now. I never moves till I see my way. Theyas does is sure to tumble."
"Well; see your way," said Robinson. "See it as far as your naturallights will enable you to look. It's nothing to me."
"Ah, but I must hear you say that you renounce her."
"Renounce her, false harpy! Ay, with all my heart."
"But I won't have her called out of her name."
"She is false."
"Hold your tongue, or I'll drop into you. They're all more or lessfalse, no doubt; but I won't have you say so of her. And since you'reso ready about the renouncing, suppose you put it on paper--'Irenounce my right to the hand and heart of Maryanne Brown.' You'vegot pen and ink there;--just put it down."
"It shall not need," said Robinson.
"Oh, but it does need. It'll put an end to a world of trouble andmake her see that the thing is all settled. It can't be any sorrow toyou, because you say she's a false harpy."
"Nevertheless, I love her."
"So do I love her; and as I'm beginning to see my way, why, ofcourse, I mean to have her. We can't both marry her; can we?"
"No; not both," said Robinson. "Certainly not both."
"Then you just write as I bid you," said Brisket.
"Bid me, sir!"
"Well,--ask you; if that will make it easier."
"And what if I don't?"
"Why, I shall drop into you. That's all about it. There's the pen,ink, and paper; you'd better do it."
Not at first did Robinson write those fatal words by which he gave upall his right to her he loved; but before that interview was endedthe words were written. "What matters it?" he said, at last, just asBrisket had actually risen from his seat to put his vile threat intoexecution. "Has not she renounced me?"
"Yes," said Brisket, "she has done that certainly."
"Had she been true to me," continued Robinson, "to do her a pleasureI would have stood up before you till you had beaten me into thelikeness of one of your own carcases."
"That's what I should have done, too."
"But now;--why should I suffer now?"
"No, indeed; why should you?"
"I would thrash you if I could, for the pure pleasure."
"No doubt; no doubt."
"But it stands to reason that I can't. God, when He gave me power ofmind, gave you power of body."
"And a little common sense along with it, my friend. I'm generallyable to see my way, big as I look. Come; what's the good of arguing.You're quick at writing, I know, and there's the paper."
Then George Robinson did write. The words were as follows;--"Irenounce the hand and heart of Maryanne Brown. I renounce them forever.--George Robinson."
On the night of that day, while the hammers were still ringing bygaslight in the unfinished shop; while Brown and Jones were stillbusy with the goods, and Mrs. Jones was measuring out to theshop-girls yards of Magenta ribbon, short by an inch, Robinson againwalked down to the bridge. "The bleak wind of March makes me trembleand shiver," said he to himself;--"but, 'Not the dark arch or theblack flowing river.'"
"Come, young man, move on," said a policeman to him. And he did moveon.
"But for that man I should have done it then," he whispered, in hissolitude, as he went to bed.