"You'll not find many of your opinion, sir," replied I, laughing.

"Perhaps not; because those who have it are content with the importance which it gives to them, and won't allow the d.a.m.nable fact; and because those who have it not are always sighing after it, as if it were the only thing worth looking after in this world. But now, I will just tell you what has happened since I last saw you, and then you shall judge."

As, however, Captain T's narrative ran to a length of nearly three hours, I shall condense the matter for the information of the reader.

It appeared that Mrs T had continued to increase the lengths of her drives in her carriage, the number of her acquaintances, and her manifold expenses, until Mr T had remonstrated in very strong terms.

His remonstrances did not, however, meet with the attention which he had expected; and he found out by accident, moreover, that the money with which he had constantly supplied Mrs T, to defray her weekly bills, had been otherwise appropriated; and that the bills for the two last quarters had none of them been paid. This produced an altercation, and a desire on his part to know in what manner these sums had been disbursed. At first the only reply from Mrs T, who considered it advisable to brazen it out, and, if possible, gain the ascendancy which was necessary, was a contemptuous toss of her head, which undulated the three yellow ostrich feathers in her bonnet, as she walked out of the room and entered her carriage. This, to Mr T, who was a matter-of-fact man, was not very satisfactory; he waited perforce until the carriage returned, and then demanded an explicit answer. Mrs T a.s.sumed the highest ground, talked about fashionable expenses, her knowledge of what was due to his character, etcetera. Mr T rejoined about necessary expenses, and that it was due to his character to pay his tradesmen's bills. Mrs T then talked of good-breeding, best society, and her _many plaisers_, as she termed them; Mr T did not know what _many pleasures_ meant in French; but he thought she had been indulged in as many as most women since they had come down to this establishment. But to the question: why were not the bills paid, and what had she done with the money? Spent it in _pin money. Pin_ money! thirty pounds a-week in _pins_! it would have bought harpoons enough for a three years' voyage.

She must tell the truth. She wouldn't tell anything, but called for her salts, and called him a _brute_. At all events, he wouldn't be called a _fool_. He gave her till the next morning to consider of it. The next morning the bills were all sent in as requested, and amounted to six hundred pounds. They were paid and receipted. "Now, Mrs T, will you oblige me by letting me know what you have done with this six hundred pounds?" Mrs T would not--she was not to be treated in that manner.

Mr T was not on board a whaler now, to bully and frighten as he pleased. She would have justice done her. Have a separation, alimony, and a divorce. She might have them all if she pleased, but she should have no more money; that was certain. Then she would have a fit of hysterics. So she did, and lay the whole of the day on the sofa, expecting Mr T would pick her up. But the idea never came into Mr T's head. He went to bed; and feeling restless, he rose very early, and saw from his window a cart drive up to the wall, and the parties who came with it leap over and enter the house, and return carrying to it two large hampers. He s.n.a.t.c.hed up one of his harpoons, walked out the other way, and arrived at the cart just as the hampers had been put in, and they were about to drive off; challenged them, and instead of being answered, the horse was flogged, and he nearly run over. He then let fly his harpoon into the horse, which dropped, and pitched out the two men on their heads insensible; secured them, called to the lodge for a.s.sistance, sent for constables, and gave them in charge. They proved to be hampers forwarded by Mr Mortimer, who had been in the habit of so doing for some time. These hampers contained his best wine, and various other articles, which also proved that Mr Mortimer must have had false keys. Leaving the culprits and property in charge of two constables, Mr T returned to the house in company with the third constable; the door was opened by Mr Mortimer, who followed him into his study, told him he should leave the house directly, had always lived with _gentlemen_ before, and requested that he might have what was due to him. Mr T thought the request but reasonable, and therefore gave him in charge of the constable. Mr Sn.o.bbs, rather confounded at such ungentlemanly behaviour, was, with the others, marched off to Bow Street. Mr T sends for the other two servants in livery, and a.s.sures them that he has no longer any occasion for their services, having the excessive vulgar idea that this peculation must have been known to them.

Pays them their wages, requests they will take off their liveries, and leave the house. Both willing. _They_ also had always lived with _gentlemen_ before. Mr T takes the key of the butler's pantry, that the plate may not consider him too vulgar to remain in the house, and then walks to the stables. Horses neigh, as if to say they are all ready for their breakfasts; but the door locked. Hails the coachman, no answer. Returning from the stables, perceives coachee, rather dusty, coming in at the lodge gate; requests to know why he did not sleep at home and take care of his horses. He was missus's coachman, not master's, and could satisfy her, but could not satisfy Mr T; who paid him his wages's and, deducting his liveries, sent him after the others.

Coachee also was very glad to go--had always lived with _gentlemen_ before. Meets the lady's maid, who tells him Mrs T is much too ill to come down to breakfast. Rather fortunate, as there was no breakfast to be had. Dresses himself, gets into a pair-horse coach, arrives at the White Horse Cellar, swallows his breakfast, goes to Bow Street, commits Mr Mortimer, _alias_ Sn.o.bbs, and his confederates for trial. Hires a job-man to bring the horses up for sale, and leaves his carriage at the coachmaker's. Obtains a temporary footman, and then Mr T returns to his villa. A very good morning's work. Finds Mrs T up in the parlour, very much surprised and shocked at his conduct--at no Mr Mortimer--at no servants, and indebted to her own maid for a cup of tea. More recriminations--more violence--another threat of alimony, and the carriage ordered, that she may seek counsel. No coachman--no carriage-- no horses--no nothing, as her maid declares. Mrs T locks herself up in her room, and another day is pa.s.sed with as little matrimonial comfort as can be expected.

In the meantime, the news flies in every direction. Brentford is full of it. Mr T had been living too fast--is done up--had been had up at Bow Street--creditors had poured in with bills--servants discharged-- carriage and horses seized. Mrs T, poor creature, in hysterics, and n.o.body surprised at it; indeed, everybody expected it. The Peters of Peterc.u.mb Hall heard it, and shook their heads at the many upstarts there were in the world. Mr Smith requested the Right Honourable Lord Viscount Babbleton never to mention to his father the Right Honourable Marquis of Spring-guns, that he had ever been taken to see the Turnbulls or that he, Mr Smith, would infallibly lose his situation in _esse_, and his living in _posse_: and Monsieur and Madame Tagliabue were even more astounded; but they felt deeply, and resolved to pay a visit the next morning, at least Monsieur Tagliabue did, and Madame acknowledged to the propriety of it.

The next morning some little order had been restored; the footman hired had been given in charge of a sufficient quant.i.ty of plate, the rest had been locked up. The cook was to stay her month; the housemaid had no wish to leave; and as for the lady's maid, she would remain as long as she could to console her poor mistress, and accept what she was inclined to give her in return, in any way of clothes, dresses, etcetera, although, of course, she could not hurt her character by remaining too long in a family where there was no carriage, or gentlemen out of livery. Still Mr T did obtain some breakfast, and had just finished when Monsieur Tagliabue was announced, and was received.

"Ah! Monsieur T, I hope madame is better. Madame Tagliabue did nothing but cry all last night when she heard the very bad news about de debt, and all dat."

"Very much obliged to Madame," replied Turnbull, gruffly; "and now, pray sir, what may be your pleasure?"

"Ah! Monsieur Turnbull, I feel very much for you; but suppose a gentleman no lose his _honour_, what matter de money?" (Mr Turnbull stared.) "You see, Monsieur Turnbull, honour be everything to a gentleman. If a gentleman owe money to one rascally tradesfellow, and not pay him, dat no great matter; but he always pay de debt of honour.

Every gentleman pay dat. Here, Monsieur Turnbull," (and the little Frenchman pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket), "be a leetle note of Madame Turnbull, which she gave to Madame Tagliabue, in which she acknowledged she owe two hundred pounds for money lost at _ecarte_.

Dat you see, Monsieur Turnbull, be what gentlemen call debt of honour, which every gentleman pay, or else he lose de character, and be called one blackguard by all the world. Madame Tagliabue and I too much fond of you and Madame Turnbull not to save your character, and so I come by her wish to beg you to settle this leetle note--this _leetle_ debt of _honour_;" and Monsieur Tagliabue laid the note on the table, with a very polite bow.

Mr Turnbull examined the note; it was as described by Monsieur Tagliabue. So, thought he, now the whole story's out; she has been swindled out of her money by this rascally French couple. "Now, Monsieur Tagliabue," said he, "allow me to put a question or two before I pay this money; and if you answer me sincerely, I shall raise no objection. I think Mrs T has already lost about six hundred pounds at _ecarte_ before?" (Monsieur T, who presumed that Mrs Turnbull had made him acquainted with the fact, answered in the affirmative.) "And I think that two months ago she never knew what _ecarte_ was."

"Dat is true; but the ladies are very quick to learn."

"Well, but now, do you think that, as she knew nothing about the game, and you and your wife are well acquainted with it, it was honourable on your part to allow her to lose so much money!"

"Ah! Monsieur, when a lady say she will play _comment faire_, what can you do?"

"But why did you never play at this house, Monsieur?"

"Ah! Monsieur Turnbull, it is for de lady of de house to propose de game."

"Very true," replied Mr Turnbull, writing a cheque for the two hundred pounds; "there is your money, Mr Tagliabue; and now that you are paid, allow me to observe that I consider you and your wife a couple of swindlers; and beg that you will never enter my doors again."

"Vat you say, sir! _Swind-lare_! G.o.d dam! Sar, I will have satisfaction."

"You've got your money--is that sufficient, or do you want anything else?" replied Mr T, rising from his chair.

"Yes, sar, I do want more--I will have more."

"So you shall, then," replied Mr Turnbull, kicking him out of the room along the pa.s.sage, and out of the front door.

Monsieur Tagliabue turned round every now and then, and threatened, and then tried to escape, as he perceived the upraised boot of Mr Turnbull.

When fairly out of the house he turned round, "Monsieur Turnbull, I will have de satisfaction, de terrible satisfaction, for this. You shall pay. By G.o.d, sar, you shall pay--de money for this."

That evening Mr Turnbull was summoned to appear at Bow Street on the following morning for the a.s.sault. He met Monsieur Tagliabue with his lawyer, and acknowledged that he had kicked him out of his house for swindling his wife, refused all accommodation, and was prepared with his bail. Monsieur Tagliabue stormed and bl.u.s.tered, talked about his acquaintance with the n.o.bility; but the magistrate had seen too much of foreigners to place much reliance on their a.s.severations. "Who are you, monsieur?"

"Sar, I am a gentleman."

"What profession are you of, sir?"

"Sar, a gentleman has no profession."

"But how do you live, Monsieur Tagliabue?"

"As a gentleman always does, sar."

"You mentioned Lord Scrope just now as your particular friend, I think?"

"Yes, sar, me very intimate with Lord Scrope; me spend three months at Scrope Castle with mi Lady Scrope; mi Lady Scrope very fond of Madame Tagliabue."

"Very well, Monsieur Tagliabue; we must proceed with another case until Mr Turnbull's bail arrives. Sit down for a little while, if you please."

Another case was then heard, which lasted about half-an-hour; but previous to hearing it, the magistrate, who knew that Lord Scrope was in town, had despatched a runner with a note to his lordship, and the answer was now brought back. The magistrate read it, and smiled; went on with the other case, and when it was finished, said, "Now, M.

Tagliabue, you have said that you were intimate with Lord Scrope."

"Yes, sar, very intimate."

"Well, Lord Scrope I have the pleasure of knowing: and, as he is in town, I wrote a note to him and here is his answer. I will read it."

M. Tagliabue turned pale as the magistrate read the following:--

"DEAR SIR--A fellow of the name you mention came from Russia with me as my valet. I discharged him with dishonesty; after he left, Lady Scrope's attendant, who it appeared was, unknown to us, married to him, left also, and then I discovered the peculations to have been so extensive that had we known where to have laid hold of him, I should certainly have brought them before you. Now the affair is forgotten; but a greater scoundrel never existed;--Yours, SCROPE."

"Now, sir, what have you to say for yourself?" continued the magistrate in a severe tone. M. Tagliabue fell on his knees and begged for mercy from the magistrate, from Lord Scrope, and lastly, from Mr Turnbull, to whom he proffered the draft for 200 pounds. The magistrate, seeing that Mr Turnbull did not take it, said to him, "Make no ceremony of taking your money back again, Mr Turnbull; the very offer of it proves that he has gained it dishonestly; and 600 pounds is quite enough to have lost."

Mr Turnbull then took the cheque and tore it in pieces, and the magistrate ordered M. Tagliabue to be taken to the alien office, and he was sent to the other side of the Channel, in company with his wife, to play _ecarte_ with whomsoever he pleased. Thus ended the episode of Monsieur Tagliabue.

CHAPTER THIRTY.

MR. TURNBULL FINDS OUT THAT MONEY, THOUGH A NECESSARY EVIL, IS NOT A SOURCE OF HAPPINESS--THE DOMINIE FINDS OUT THAT A LITTLE CALUMNY IS MORE EFFECTUAL THAN OVID'S REMEDY FOR LOVE; AND I FIND OUT THAT WALKING GIVES ONE A GOOD APPEt.i.tE FOR FILLET OF VEAL AND BACON--I SET AN EXAMPLE TO THE CLERGY IN REFUSING TO TAKE MONEY FOR A SEAT IN CHURCH.

"And now you see, Jacob, what a revolution has taken place; not very pleasant, I grant, but still it was very necessary. I have since been paying all my bills, for the report of my being in difficulty has brought them in fast enough; and I find that in these last five months my wife has spent a whole year's income; so it was quite time to stop."

"I agree with you, sir; but what does Mrs Turnbull say now--has she come to her senses?"

"Pretty well, I expect, although she does not quite choose to acknowledge it. I have told her that she must dispense with a carriage in future; and so she shall, till I think she deserves it. She knows that she must either have _my company_ in the house, or none at all.

She knows that the Peters of Peterc.u.mb Hall have cut her, for they did not answer a note of hers, sent by the gardener; and Mr Smith has written a very violent answer to another of her notes, wondering at her attempting to push herself into the company of the aristocracy. But what has brought her to her senses more than all is the affair of Monsieur Tagliabue. The magistrate, at my request, gave me the note of Lord Scrope, and I have taken good care that she could read the police report as well; but the fact is, she is so much mortified that I say nothing to her. She has been following the advice of these French swindlers, who have led her wrong, to be able to cheat her of her money.

I expect she will ask me to sell this place, and go elsewhere; but at present we hardly exchange a word during the whole day."

"I feel very sorry for her, sir; for I really believe her to be a very good kind-hearted person."

"That's like you, Jacob--and so she is. At present she is in a state to be pitied. She would throw a share of the blame upon other people, and cannot--she feels it is all herself. All her bubbles of grandeur have burst, and she finds herself not half so respectable as she was before her vanity induced her to cut her former acquaintance, and try to get into the society of those who laughed at her, and at the same time were not half so creditable. But it's that cursed money which has proved her unhappiness--and, I may add, mine."

"Well, sir, I see no chance of its ever adding to my misfortunes, at all events."