"How much can you afford to give, measters? for there be others as poor as ye." We replied that we could give a shilling. "Well, then, get up in God's name, and ride as long as you will. Get in behind."

"Are there many people in there already?" said I, as I climbed up, and Timothy handed me the bundles.

"Noa," replied the wagoner, "there be nobody but a mighty clever poticary or doctor, I can't tell which; but he wear an uncommon queer hat, and he talk all sort of doctor stuff—and there be his odd man and his odd boy; that be all, and there be plenty of room, and plenty o' clean stra'."

After this intimation we climbed up, and gained a situation in the rear of the wagon under the cloth. As the wagoner said, there was plenty of room, and we nestled into the straw without coming into contact with the other travellers. Not feeling any inclination to sleep, Timothy and I entered into conversation, sotto voce, and had continued for more than half an hour, supposing by their silence that the other occupants of the wagon were asleep, when we were interrupted by a voice clear and sonorous as a bell.

"It would appear that you are wanderers, young men, and journey you know not whither. Birds seek their nests when the night falls—beasts hasten to their lairs—man bolts his door. 'Propria quae maribus,' as Herodotus hath it; which, when translated, means, that 'such is the nature of mankind.' 'Tribuuntur mascula dicas' 'Tell me your troubles,' as Homer says."

I was very much surprised at this address—my knowledge of the language told me immediately that the quotations were out of the Latin grammar, and that all his learning was pretence; still there was a novelty of style which amused me, and at the same time gave me an idea that the speaker was an uncommon personage. I gave Timothy a nudge, and then replied,

"You have guessed right, most learned sir; we are, as you say, wanderers seeking our fortunes, and trust yet to find them—still we have a weary journey before us, 'Haustus hora somni sumendum,' as Aristotle hath it; which I need not translate to so learned a person as yourself."

"Nay, indeed, there is no occasion; yet am I pleased to meet with one who hath scholarship," replied the other. "Have you also a knowledge of the Greek?"

"No, I pretend not to Greek."

"It is a pity that thou hast it not, for thou wouldst delight to commune with the ancients. Esculapius hath these words—'Asholder—offmotton—accapon—pasti—venison,'—which I will translate for thee—'We often find what we seek, when we least expect it.' May it be so with you, my friend. Where have you been educated? and what has been your profession?"

I thought I risked little in telling, so I replied, that I had been brought up as a surgeon and apothecary, and had been educated at a foundation school.

"'Tis well," replied he; "you have then commenced your studies in my glorious profession; still, have you much to learn; years of toil, under a great master, can only enable you to benefit mankind as I have done, and years of hardship and of danger must be added thereunto, to afford you the means. There are many hidden secrets. 'Ut sunt Divorum, Mars, Bacchus, Apollo, Virorum,'—many parts of the globe to traverse, 'Ut Cato, Virgilius, fluviorum, ut Tibris, Orontes.' All these have I visited, and many more. Even now do I journey to obtain more of my invaluable medicine, gathered on the highest Andes, when the moon is in her perigee. There I shall remain for months among the clouds, looking down upon the great plain of Mexico, which shall appear no larger than the head of a pin, where the voice of man is heard not. 'Vocito, vocitas vocitavi,' bending for months towards the earth. 'As in presenti,' suffering with the cold—'frico quod fricui dat,' as Eusebius hath it. Soon shall I be borne away by the howling winds towards the new world, where I can obtain more of the wonderful medicine, which I may say never yet hath failed me, and which nothing but love towards my race induces me to gather at such pains and risk."

"Indeed, sir," replied I, amused with his imposition, "I should like to accompany you—for, as Josephus says most truly, 'Capiat pillulae duae post prandium.' Travel is, indeed, a most delightful occupation, and I would like to run over the whole world."

"And I would like to follow you," interrupted Timothy. "I suspect we have commenced our grand tour already—three miles behind a hackney-coach—ten on foot, and about two, I should think, in this wagon. But as Cophagus says, Cochlearija crash many summendush,' which means, 'there are ups and downs in this world.'"

"Hah!" exclaimed our companion. "He, also, has the rudiments."

"Nay, I hope I've done with the Rudimans," replied Timothy.

"Is he your follower?" inquired the man.

"That very much depends upon who walks first," replied Timothy, "but whether or no—we hunt in couples."

"I understand—you are companions. 'Concordat cum nominativo numero et persona.' Tell me, can you roll pills, can you use the pestle and the mortar, handle the scapula, and mix ingredients?"

I replied that of course I knew my profession.

"Well, then, as we have still some hours of night, let us now obtain some rest. In the morning, when the sun hath introduced us to each other, I may then judge from your countenances whether it is likely that we may be better acquainted. Night is the time for repose, as Quintus Curtius says, 'Custos, bos, fur atque sacerdos. Sleep was made for all—my friends, good-night."



Chapter IX

In which the adventures in the wagon are continued, and we become more puzzled with our new companions—We leave off talking Latin, and enter into an engagement.

Timothy and I took his advice, and were soon fast asleep. I was awakened the next morning by feeling a hand in my trouser's pocket. I seized it, and held it fast.

"Now just let go my hand, will you?" cried a lachrymal voice.

I jumped up—it was broad daylight, and looked at the human frame to which the hand was an appendix. It was a very spare, awkwardly-built form of a young man, apparently about twenty years old, but without the least sign of manhood on his chin. His face was cadaverous, with large goggling eyes, high cheek bones, hair long and ragged, reminding me of a rat's nest, thin lips, and ears large almost as an elephant's. A more woe-begone wretch in appearance I never beheld, and I continued to look at him with surprise. He repeated his words with an idiotical expression, "Just let go my hand, can't you?"

"What business had your hand in my pocket?" replied I, angrily.

"I was feeling for my pocket-handkerchief," replied the young man. "I always keeps it in my breeches' pocket."

"But not in your neighbour's, I presume?"

"My neighbour's!" replied he, with a vacant stare. "Well, so it is, I see now—I thought it was my own."

I released his hand; he immediately put it into his own pocket, and drew out his handkerchief, if the rag deserved the appellation. "There," said he, "I told you I put it in that pocket—I always do."

"And pray who are you?" said I, as I looked at his dress, which was a pair of loose white Turkish trousers, and an old spangled jacket.

"Me! why, I'm the fool."

"More knave than fool, I expect," replied I, still much puzzled with his strange appearance and dress.

"Nay, there you mistake," said the voice of last night. "He is not only a fool by profession, but one by nature. It is a half-witted creature, who serves me when I would attract the people. Strange in this world, that wisdom may cry in the streets without being noticed, yet folly will always command a crowd."

During this address I turned my eyes upon the speaker. He was an elderly-looking person, with white hair, dressed in a suit of black, ruffles and frill. His eyes were brilliant, but the remainder of his face it was difficult to decipher, as it was evidently painted, and the night's jumbling in the wagon had so smeared it, that it appeared of almost every colour in the rainbow. On one side of him lay a large three-cornered cocked hat, on the other, a little lump of a boy, rolled up in the straw like a marmot, and still sound asleep. Timothy looked at me, and when he caught my eye, burst out into a laugh.

"You laugh at my appearance, I presume," said the old man, mildly.

"I do in truth," replied Timothy. "I never saw one like you before, and I dare say never shall again."

"That is possible; yet probably if you meet me again, you would not know me."

"Among a hundred thousand," replied Timothy, with increased mirth.

"We shall see, perhaps," replied the quack doctor, for such the reader must have already ascertained to be his profession; "but the wagon has stopped, and the driver will bait his horses. If inclined to eat, now is your time. Come, Jumbo, get up; Philotas, waken him, and follow me."

Philotas, for so was the fool styled by his master, twisted up some straw, and stuffed the end of it into Jumbo's mouth. "Now, Jumbo will think he has got something to eat. I always wake him that way," observed the fool, grinning at us.

It certainly, as might be expected, did waken Jumbo, who uncoiled himself, rubbed his eyes, stared at the tilt of the wagon, then at us, and without saying a word, rolled himself out after the fool. Timothy and I followed. We found the doctor bargaining for some bread and bacon, his strange appearance exciting much amusement, and inducing the people to let him have a better bargain than perhaps otherwise they would have done. He gave a part of the refreshment to the boy and the fool, and walked out of the tap-room with his own share. Timothy and I went to the pump, and had a good refreshing wash, and then for a shilling were permitted to make a very hearty breakfast. The wagon having remained about an hour, the driver gave us notice of his departure; but the doctor was no where to be found. After a little delay, the wagoner drove off, cursing him for a bilk, and vowing that he'd never have any more to do with a "lamed man." In the mean time, Timothy and I had taken our seats in the wagon, in company with the fool, and Master Jumbo. We commenced a conversation with the former, and soon found out, as the doctor had asserted, that he really was an idiot, so much so, that it was painful to converse with him. As for the latter, he had coiled himself away to take a little more sleep. I forgot to mention, that the boy was dressed much in the same way as the fool, in an old spangled jacket, and dirty white trousers. For about an hour Timothy and I conversed, remarking upon the strange disappearance of the doctor, especially as he had given us hopes of employing us; in accepting which offer, if ever it should be made, we had not made up our minds, when we were interrupted with a voice crying out, "Hillo, my man, can you give a chap a lift as far as Reading, for a shilling?"

"Ay, get up, and welcome," replied the wagoner.

The wagon did not stop, but in a moment or two the new passenger climbed in. He was dressed in a clean smock frock, neatly worked up the front, leather gaiters, and stout shoes; a bundle and a stick were in his hand. He smiled as he looked round upon the company, and showed a beautiful set of teeth. His face was dark, and sun-burnt, but very handsome, and his eyes as black as coals, and as brilliant as gas. "Heh! player folk—I've a notion," said he, as he sat down, looking at the doctor's attendants, and laughing at us. "Have you come far, gentlemen?" continued he.

"From London," was my reply.

"How do the crops look up above, for down here the turnips seem to have failed altogether? Dry seasons won't do for turnips."

I replied that I really could not satisfy him on that point, as it was dark when we passed.

"Very true—I had forgotten that," replied he. "However, the barleys look well; but perhaps you don't understand farming?"

I replied in the negative, and the conversation was kept up for two or three hours, in the course of which I mentioned the quack doctor, and his strange departure.

"That is the fellow who cured so many people at ——," replied he; and the conversation then turned upon his profession and mode of life, which Timothy and I agreed must be very amusing. "We shall meet him again, I dare say," replied the man. "Would you know him?"

"I think so, indeed," replied Timothy, laughing.

"Yes, and so you would think that you would know a guinea from a halfpenny, if I put it into your hands," replied the man. "I do not wish to lay a bet, and win your money; but I tell you, that I will put either the one or the other into each of your hands, and if you hold it fast for one minute, and shut your eyes during that time, you will not be able to tell me which it is that you have in it."

"That I am sure I would," replied Tim; and I made the same assertion.

"Well, I was taken in that way at a fair, and lost ten shillings by the wager; now, we'll try whether you can tell or not." He took out some money from his pocket, which he selected without our seeing it, put a coin into the hand of each of us, closing our fists over it, "and now," said he, "keep your eyes shut for a minute."

We did so, and a second or two afterwards we heard a voice which we instantly recognised. "Nay, but it was wrong to leave me on the way side thus, having agreed to pay the sum demanded. At my age one walketh not without fatigue, Excipenda tamen quaedam sunt urbium, as Philostratus says, meaning, 'that old limbs lose their activity, and seek the help of a crutch.'"

"There's the doctor," cried Timothy, with his eyes still shut.

"Now open your eyes," said the man, "and tell me, before you open your hand, what there is in it."

"A halfpenny in mine," said Tim.

"A guinea in mine," replied I.

We opened our hands, and they were empty.

"Where the devil is it?" exclaimed I, looking at Tim.

"And where the devil's the doctor?" replied he, looking round.

"The money is in the doctor's pocket," replied the man, smiling.

"Then where is the doctor's pocket?"

"Here," replied he, slapping his pocket, and looking significantly at us. "I thought you were certain of knowing him again. About as certain as you were of telling the money in your hand."

He then, to our astonishment, imitated the doctor's voice, and quoted prosody syntax, and Latin. Timothy and I were still in astonishment, when he continued, "If I had not found out that you were in want of employ, and further, that your services would be useful to me, I should not have made this discovery. Do you now think that you know enough to enter into my service? It is light work, and not bad pay; and now you may choose."

"I trust," said I, "that there is no dishonesty?"

"None that you need practise, if you are so scrupulous; perhaps your scruples may some day be removed. I make the most of my wares—every merchant does the same. I practise upon the folly of mankind—it is on that, that wise men live."

Timothy gave me a push, and nodded his head for me to give my consent. I reflected a few seconds, and at last I extended my hand. "I consent," replied I, "with the reservation I have made."

"You will not repent," said he; "and I will take your companion, not that I want him particularly, but I do want you. The fact is, I want a lad of gentlemanly address, and handsome appearance—with the very knowledge you possess—and now we will say no more for the present. By-the-bye, was that real Latin of yours?"

"No," replied I, laughing; "you quoted the grammar, and I replied with medical prescriptions. One was as good as the other."

"Quite—nay, better; for the school-boys may find me out, but not you. But now observe, when we come to the next cross road, we must get down—at least, I expect so; but we shall know in a minute."

In about the time he mentioned, a dark, gipsy-looking man looked into the wagon, and spoke to our acquaintance in an unknown language. He replied in the same, and the man disappeared. We continued our route for about a quarter of an hour, when he got out, asked us to follow him, and speaking a few words to the fool, which I did not hear, left him and the boy in the wagon. We paid our fare, took possession of our bundles, and followed our new companion for a few minutes on the cross road, when he stopped, and said, "I must now leave you, to prepare for your reception into our fraternity; continue straight on this road until you arrive at a lime-kiln, and wait there till I come."

He sprang over a stile, and took a direction verging at an angle from the road, forced his way through a hedge, and disappeared from our sight. "Upon my word, Timothy," said I, "I hardly know what to say to this. Have we done right in trusting to this man, who, I am afraid! is a great rogue? I do not much like mixing with these gipsy people, for such I am sure he belongs to."

"I really do not see how we can do better," replied Timothy. "The world is all before us, and we must force our own way through it. As for his being a quack doctor, I see no great harm in that. People put their faith in nostrums more than they do in regular medicines; and it is well known that quack medicines, as they call them, cure as often as others, merely for that very reason."

"Very true, Timothy; the mind once at ease, the body soon recovers, and faith, even in quack medicines, will often make people whole; but do you think that he does no more than impose upon people in that way?"

"He may, or he may not; at all events, we need do no more, I suppose."

"I am not sure of that; however, we shall see. He says we may be useful to him, and I suppose we shall be, or he would not have engaged us—we shall soon find out."



Chapter X

In which the reader is introduced to several new acquaintances, and all connected with them, except birth and parentage, which appears to be the one thing wanting throughout the whole of this work.

By this time we had arrived at the lime-kiln to which we had been directed, and we sat down on our bundles, chatting for about five minutes, when our new acquaintance made his appearance, with something in his hand, tied up in a handkerchief.

"You may as well put your coats into your bundles, and put on these frocks," said he, "you will appear better among us, and be better received, for there is a gathering now, and some of them are queer customers. However, you have nothing to fear; when once you are with my wife and me, you are quite safe; her little finger would protect you from five hundred."

"Your wife! who, then, is she?" inquired I, as I put my head through the smock frock.

"She is a great personage among the gipsies. She is, by descent, one of the heads of the tribe, and none dare to disobey her."

"And you—are you a gipsy?"

"No, and yes. By birth I am not, but by choice, and marriage, I am admitted; but I was not born under a hedge, I can assure you, although I very often pass a night there now—that is, when I am domestic; but do not think that you are to remain long here; we shall leave in a few days, and may not meet the tribe again for months, although you may see my own family occasionally. I did not ask you to join me to pass a gipsy's life—no, no, we must be stirring and active. Come, we are now close to them. Do not speak as you pass the huts, until you have entered mine. Then you may do as you please."

We turned short round, passed through a gap in the hedge, and found ourselves on a small retired piece of common, which was studded with about twenty or thirty low gipsy huts. The fires were alight and provisions apparently cooking. We passed by nine or ten, and obeyed our guide's injunctions, to keep silence. At last we stopped, and perceived ourselves to be standing by the fool, who was dressed like us, in a smock frock, and Mr Jumbo, who was very busy making the pot boil, blowing at the sticks underneath till he was black in the face. Several of the men passed near us, and examined us with no very pleasant expression of countenance; and we were not sorry to see our conductor, who had gone into the hut, return, followed by a woman, to whom he was speaking in the language of the tribe. "Nattee bids you welcome," said he, as she approached.

Never in my life will the remembrance of the first appearance of Nattee, and the effect it had upon me, be erased from my memory. She was tall, too tall, had it not been for the perfect symmetry of her form. Her face of a clear olive, and oval in shape; her eyes jetty black; nose straight, and beautifully formed; mouth small, thin lips, with a slight curl of disdain, and pearly teeth. I never beheld a woman of so commanding a presence. Her feet were bare, but very small, as well as her hands. On her fingers she wore many rings, of a curious old setting, and a piece of gold hung on her forehead, where the hair was parted. She looked at us, touched her high forehead with the ends of her fingers, and waving her hand gracefully, said, in a soft voice, "You are welcome," and then turned to her husband, speaking to him in her own language, until by degrees they separated from us in earnest conversation.

She returned to us after a short time, without her husband, and said, in a voice, the notes of which were indeed soft, but the delivery of the words was most determined; "I have said that you are welcome; sit down, therefore, and share with us—fear nothing, you have no cause to fear. Be faithful, then, while you serve him, and when you would quit us, say so, and receive your leave to depart; but if you attempt to desert us without permission, then we shall suspect that you are our enemies, and treat you accordingly. There is your lodging while here," continued she, pointing to another hut. "There is but one child with you, this boy (pointing to Jumbo), who can lay at your feet. And now join us as friends. Fleta, where are you?"

A soft voice answered from the tent of Nattee, and soon afterwards came out a little girl, of about eleven years old. The appearance of this child was a new source of interest. She was a little fairy figure, with a skin as white as the driven snow—light auburn hair, and large blue eyes; her dress was scanty, and showed a large portion of her taper legs. She hastened to Nattee, and folding her arms across her breast, stood still, saying meekly, "I am here."

"Know these as friends, Fleta. Send that lazy Num (this was Philotas, the fool), for more wood, and see that Jumbo tends the fire."

Nattee smiled, and left us. I observed she went to where forty or fifty of the tribe were assembled, in earnest discourse. She took her seat with them, and marked deference was paid to her. In the meantime Jumbo had blown up a brisk fire; we were employed by Fleta in shredding vegetables, which she threw into the boiling kettle. Num appeared with more fuel, and at last there was nothing more to do. Fleta sat down by us, and parting her long hair, which had fallen over her eyes, looked us both in the face.

"Who gave you that name, Fleta?" inquired I.

"They gave it me," replied she.

"And who are they?"

"Nattee, and Melchior, her husband."

"But you are not their daughter?"

"No, I am not—that is, I believe not."

The little girl stopped short, as if assured that she had said too much, cast her eyes down on the ground, and folded her arms, so that her hands rested on each opposite shoulder.

Timothy whispered to me, "She must have been stolen, depend upon it."

"Silence," said I.

The little girl overheard him, and looking at him, put her finger across her mouth, looking to where Num and Jumbo were sitting. I felt an interest for this child before I had been an hour in her company; she was so graceful, so feminine, so mournful in the expression of her countenance. That she was under restraint was evident; but still she did not appear to be actuated by fear. Nattee was very kind to her, and the child did not seem to be more reserved towards her than to others; her mournful pensive look, was perhaps inherent to her nature. It was not until long after our first acquaintance that I ever saw a smile upon her features. Shortly after this little conversation Nattee returned, walking with all the grace and dignity of a queen. Her husband, or Melchior, as I shall in future call him, soon joined us, and we sat down to our repast, which was excellent. It was composed of almost every thing; sometimes I found myself busy with the wing of a fowl, at another the leg of a rabbit—then a piece of mutton, or other flesh and fowl, which I could hardly distinguish. To these were added every sort of vegetable, among which potatoes predominated, forming a sort of stew, which an epicure might have praised. I had a long conversation with Melchior in the evening, and, not to weary the reader, I shall now proceed to state all that I then and subsequently gathered from him and others, relative to the parties with whom we were associating.

Melchior would not state who and what he was previous to his having joined the fraternity of gipsies; that he was not of humble birth, and that he had, when young, quitted his friends out of love for Nattee, or from some other causes not to be revealed, he led me to surmise. He had been many years in company with the tribe, and although, as one received into it, he did not stand so high in rank and estimation as his wife, still, from his marriage with Nattee, and his own peculiar qualifications and dexterity, he was almost as absolute as she was.

Melchior and Nattee were supposed to be the most wealthy of all the gipsies, and, at the same time, they were the most liberal of their wealth. Melchior, it appeared, gained money in three different characters; as a quack doctor, the character in which we first saw him; secondly, as a juggler, in which art he was most expert; and thirdly, as a fortune-teller, and wise man.

Nattee, as I before mentioned, was of very high rank, or caste, in her tribe. At her first espousal of Melchior she lost much of her influence, as it was considered a degradation; but she was then very young, and must have been most beautiful. The talents of Melchior, and her own spirit, however, soon enabled her to regain, and even add still more to, her power and consideration among the tribe, and it was incredible to what extent, with the means which she possessed, this power was augmented.

Melchior had no children by his marriage, and, as far as I could judge from the few words which would escape from the lips of Nattee, she did not wish for any, as the race would not be considered pure. The subdivision of the tribe which followed Nattee, consisted of about forty, men, women, and children. These were ruled by her during the absence of her husband, who alternately assumed different characters, as suited his purpose; but in whatever town Melchior might happen to be, Nattee and her tribe were never far off, and always encamped within communication.

I ventured to question Melchior about the little Fleta; and he stated that she was the child of a soldier's wife, who had been brought to bed, and died a few hours afterwards; that, at the time, she was on her way to join her husband, and had been taken ill on the road—had been assisted by Nattee and her companions, as far as they were able—had been buried by them, and that the child had been reared in the camp.

In time, the little girl became very intimate, and very partial to me. I questioned her as to her birth, telling her what Melchior had stated; for a long while she would not answer; the poor child had learned caution even at that early age; but after we were more intimate, she said, that which Melchior had stated was not true. She could recollect very well living in a great house, with everything very fine about her; but still it appeared as if it were a dream. She recollected two white ponies—and a lady who was her mamma—and a mulberry-tree, where she stained her frock; sometimes other things came to her memory, and then she forgot them again. From this it was evident that she had been stolen, and was probably of good parentage; certainly, if elegance and symmetry of person and form, could prove blood, it never was more marked than in this interesting child. Her abode with the gipsies, and their peculiar mode of life and manners, had rendered her astonishingly precocious in intellect; but of education she had none, except what was instilled into her by Melchior, whom she always accompanied when he assumed his character as a juggler. She then danced on the slack wire, at the same time performing several feats in balancing, throwing of oranges, &c. When Melchior was under other disguises, she remained in the camp with Nattee.

Of Num, or Philotas, as Melchior thought proper to call him, I have already spoken. He was a half-witted idiot, picked up in one of Melchior's excursions, and as he stated to me, so did it prove to be the fact, that when on the stage, and questioned as a fool, his natural folly, and idiotical vacancy of countenance, were applauded by the spectators as admirably assumed. Even at the alehouses and taverns where we stopped, every one imagined that all his folly was pretence, and looked upon him as a very clever fellow. There never was, perhaps, such a lachrymose countenance as this poor lad's, and this added still more to the mirth of others, being also considered as put on for the occasion. Stephen Kemble played Falstaff without stuffing—Num played the fool without any effort or preparation. Jumbo was also "picked up;" this was not done by Melchior, who stated, that any body might have him who claimed him; he tumbled with the fool upon the stage, and he also ate pudding to amuse the spectators—the only part of the performance which was suited to Jumbo's taste, for he was a terrible little glutton, and never lost any opportunity of eating, as well as of sleeping.

And now, having described all our new companions, I must narrate what passed between Melchior and me, the day after our joining the camp. He first ran through his various professions, pointing out to me that as juggler he required a confederate, in which capacity I might be very useful, as he would soon instruct me in all his tricks. As a quack doctor he wanted the services of both Tim and myself in mixing up, making pills, &c., and also in assisting him in persuading the public of his great skill. As a fortune-teller, I should also be of great service, as he would explain to me hereafter. In short, he wanted a person of good personal appearance and education, in whom he might confide in every way. As to Tim, he might be made useful if he chose, in various ways; amongst others, he wished him to learn tumbling and playing the fool, when, at times, the fool was required to give a shrewd answer on any point on which he would wish the public to be made acquainted. I agreed to my own part of the performance, and then had some conversation with Timothy, who immediately consented to do his best in what was allotted as his share. Thus was the matter quickly arranged, Melchior observing, that he had said nothing about remuneration, as I should find that trusting to him was far preferable to stipulated wages.



Chapter XI

Whatever may be the opinion of the reader, he cannot assert that we are no conjurers—We suit our wares to our customers, and our profits are considerable.

We had been three days in the camp when the gathering was broken up, each gang taking their own way. What the meeting was about I could not exactly discover; one occasion of it was to make arrangements relative to the different counties in which the subdivisions were to sojourn during the next year, so that they might know where to communicate with each other, and, at the same time, not interfere by being too near; but there were many other points discussed, of which, as a stranger, I was kept in ignorance. Melchior answered all my questions with apparent candour, but his habitual deceit was such, that whether he told the truth or not was impossible to be ascertained by his countenance.

When the gathering dispersed we packed up, and located ourselves about two miles from the common, on the borders of a forest of oak and ash. Our food was chiefly game, for we had some excellent poachers among us; and as for fish, it appeared to be at their command; there was not a pond nor a pit but they could tell in a moment if it were tenanted, and if tenanted, in half an hour every fish would be floating on the top of the water, by the throwing in of some intoxicating sort of berry; other articles of food occasionally were found in the caldron; indeed, it was impossible to fare better than we did, or at less expense.

Our tents were generally pitched not far from a pool of water, and to avoid any unpleasant search, which sometimes would take place, everything liable to detection was sunk under the water until it was required for cooking; once in the pot, it was considered as safe. But with the foraging, Timothy and I had nothing to do; we participated in the eating, without asking any questions as to how it was procured.

My time was chiefly spent in company with Melchior, who initiated me into all the mysteries of cups and balls—juggling of every description—feats with cards, and made me acquainted with all his apparatus for prepared tricks. For hours and hours was I employed by his directions in what is called "making the pass" with a pack of cards, as almost all tricks on cards depend upon your dexterity in this manoeuvre. In about a month I was considered as a very fair adept; in the meantime, Timothy had to undergo his career of gymnastics, and was to be seen all day tumbling and retumbling, until he could tumble on his feet again. Light and active, he soon became a very dexterous performer, and could throw a somerset either backwards or forwards, walk on his hands, eat fire, pull out ribbons, and do fifty other tricks to amuse a gaping audience. Jumbo also was worked hard, to bring down his fat, and never was allowed his dinner until he had given satisfaction to Melchior. Even little Fleta had to practise occasionally, as we were preparing for an expedition. Melchior, who appeared determined to create an effect, left us for three days, and returned with not only dresses for Timothy and me, but also new dresses for the rest of the company; and shortly afterwards, bidding farewell to Nattee and the rest of the gipsies, we all set out—that is, Melchior, I, Timothy, Fleta, Num, and Jumbo. Late in the evening we arrived at the little town of ——, and took up our quarters at a public-house, with the landlord of which Melchior had already made arrangements.

"Well, Timothy," said I, as soon as we were in bed, "how do you like our new life and prospects?"

"I like it better than Mr Cophagus's rudimans, and carrying out physic, at all events. But how does your dignity like turning Merry Andrew, Japhet?"

"To tell you the truth, I do not dislike it. There is a wildness and a devil-may-care feeling connected with it which is grateful to me at present. How long it may last I cannot tell; but for a year or two it appears to me that we may be very happy. At all events, we shall see the world, and have more than one profession to fall back upon."

"That is true; but there is one thing that annoys me, Japhet, which is, we may have difficulty in leaving these people when we wish. Besides, you forget that you are losing sight of the principal object you had in view, that is, of 'finding out your father.'"

"I certainly never expect to find him among the gipsies," replied I, "for children are at a premium with them. They steal from others, and are not very likely therefore to leave them at the Foundling. But I do not know whether I have not as good a chance in our present employment as in any other. I have often been thinking that as fortune-tellers, we may get hold of many strange secrets; however, we shall see. Melchior says, that he intends to appear in that character as soon as he has made a harvest in his present one."

"What do you think of Melchior, now that you have been so much with him?"

"I think him an unprincipled man, but still with many good qualities. He appears to have a pleasure in deceit, and to have waged war with the world in general. Still he is generous, and, to a certain degree, confiding; kind in his disposition, and apparently a very good husband. There is something on his mind which weighs him down occasionally, and checks him in the height of his mirth. It comes over him like a dark cloud over a bright summer sun; and he is all gloom for a few minutes. I do not think that he would now commit any great crime; but I have a suspicion that he has done something which is a constant cause of remorse."

"You are a very good judge of character, Japhet. But what a dear little child is that Fleta! She may exclaim with you—'Who is my father?'"

"Yes, we are both in much the same predicament, and that it is which I believe has so much increased my attachment to her. We are brother and sister in misfortune, and a sister she ever shall be to me, if such is the will of Heaven. But we must rise early to-morrow, Tim; so good-night."

"Yes, to-morrow it will be juggle and tumble—eat fire—um—and so on, as Mr Cophagus would have said; so good-night, Japhet."

The next morning we arrayed ourselves in our new habiliments; mine were silk stockings, shoes, and white kerseymere kneed breeches, a blue silk waistcoat loaded with tinsel, and a short jacket to correspond of blue velvet, a sash round my waist, a hat and a plume of feathers. Timothy declared I looked very handsome, and as the glass said the same as plain as it could speak, I believed him. Timothy's dress was a pair of wide Turkish trousers and red jacket, with spangles. The others were much the same. Fleta was attired in small, white satin, Turkish trousers, blue muslin and silver embroidered frock, worked sandals, and her hair braided and plaited in long tails behind, and she looked like a little sylph. Melchior's dress was precisely the same as mine, and a more respectable company was seldom seen. Some musicians had been hired, and handbills were now circulated all over the town, stating that Signor Eugenio Velotti, with his company, would have the honour of performing before the nobility and gentry. The bill contained the fare which was to be provided, and intimated the hour of the performance, and the prices to be paid for the seats. The performance was to take place in a very large room attached to the inn, which, previous to the decadence of the town, had been used as an assembly-room. A platform was erected on the outside, on which were placed the musicians, and where we all occasionally made our appearance in our splendid dresses to attract the wonder of the people. There we strutted up and down, all but poor little Fleta, who appeared to shrink at the display from intuitive modesty. When the music ceased, a smart parley between Melchior and me, and Philotas, and Timothy, as the two fools, would take place; and Melchior declared, after the performance was over, that we conducted ourselves to admiration.

"Pray, Mr Philotas, do me the favour to tell me how many people you think are now present?" said Melchior to Num, in an imperative voice.

"I don't know," said Num, looking up with his idiotical, melancholy face.

"Ha! ha! ha'" roared the crowd at Num's stupid answer.

"The fellow's a fool'" said Melchior, to the gaping audience.

"Well, then, if he can't tell, perhaps you may, Mr Dionysius," said I, addressing Tim.

"How many, sir? Do you want to know exactly and directly?"

"Yes, sir, immediately."

"Without counting, sir?"

"Yes, sir, without counting."

"Well then, sir, I will tell, and make no mistake; there's exactly as many again as half."

"Ha! ha! ha!" from the crowd.

"That won't do, sir. How many may be the half?"

"How many may be the half? Do you know yourself, sir?"

"Yes, sir, to be sure I do."

"Then there's no occasion for me to tell you."

"Ha! ha! ha!"

"Well then, sir," continued Melchior to Philotas, "perhaps you'll tell how many ladies and gentlemen we may expect to honour us with their company to-night."

"How many, sir?"

"Yes, sir, how many."

"I'm sure I don't know," said Num, after a pause.

"Positively you are the greatest fool I ever met with," said Melchior.

"Well, he does act the fool as natural as life," observed the crowd. "What a stupid face he does put on!"

"Perhaps you will be able to answer that question, Mr Dionysius," said I to Tim.

"Yes, sir, I know exactly."

"Well, sir, let's hear."

"In the first place, all the pretty women will come, and all the ugly ones stay away; and as for the men, all those who have got any money will be certain to come; those who haven't, poor devils, must stay outside."

"Suppose, sir, you make a bow to the ladies."

"A very low one, sir?"

"Yes, very low indeed."

Tim bent his body to the ground, and threw a somerset forward. "There, sir; I bowed so low, that I came up on the other side."

"Ha! ha! capital!" from the crowd.

"I've got a round turn in my back, sir," continued Tim, rubbing himself. "Hadn't I better take it out again?"

"By all means."

Tim threw a somerset backwards. "There, sir, all's right now. One good turn deserves another. Now I'll be off."

"Where are you going to, sir?"

"Going, sir!! Why, I left my lollipop in the tinder-box, and I'm going to fetch it."

"Ha! ha! ha!"

"Strike up, music!" and Master Jumbo commenced tumbling.

Such was the elegant wit with which we amused and attracted the audience. Perhaps, had we been more refined, we should not have been so successful.

That evening we had the room as full as it could hold. Signor Velotti alias Melchior astonished them. The cards appeared to obey his commands—rings were discovered in lady's shoes—watches were beat to a powder and made whole—canary birds flew out of eggs. The audience were delighted. The entertainment closed with Fleta's performance on the slack wire; and certainly never was there anything more beautiful and graceful. Balanced on the wire in a continual, waving motion, her eyes fixed upon a point to enable her to maintain her position, she performed several feats, such as the playing with five oranges, balancing swords, &c. Her extreme beauty—her very picturesque and becoming dress—her mournful expression and downcast eyes—her gentle manner, appeared to win the hearts of the audience; and when she was assisted off from her perilous situation by Melchior and me, and made her graceful courtesy, the plaudits were unanimous.

When the company dispersed I went to her, intending to praise her, but I found her in tears. "What is the matter, my dear Fleta?"

"O nothing! don't say I have been crying—but I cannot bear it—so many people looking at me. Don't say a word to Melchior—I won't cry any more."



Chapter XII

It is very easy to humbug those who are so eager to be humbugged as people are in this world of humbug—We show ourselves excessively disinterested, which astonishes everybody.

I kissed and consoled her; she threw her arm round my neck, and remained there with her face hid for some time. We then joined the others at supper. Melchior was much pleased with our success, and highly praised the conduct of Timothy and myself, which he pronounced was, for the first attempt, far beyond his expectations.

We continued to astonish all the good people of —— for five days, when we discovered the indubitable fact, that there was no more money to be extracted from their pockets, upon which we resumed our usual clothes and smock frocks, and with our bundles in our hands, set off for another market town, about fifteen miles distant. There we were equally successful, and Melchior was delighted with our having proved such a powerful acquisition to his troop: but not to dwell too long upon one subject, I shall inform the reader that, after a trip of six weeks, during which we were very well received, we once more returned to the camp, which had located within five miles of our last scene of action. Every one was content—we were all glad to get back and rest from our labours. Melchior was pleased with his profits, poor little Fleta overjoyed to be once more in the seclusion of her tent, and Nattee very glad to hear of our good fortune, and to see her husband. Timothy and I had already proved ourselves so useful, that Melchior treated us with the greatest friendship and confidence—and he made us a present out of the gains, for our exertions; to me he gave ten, and to Timothy five, pounds.

"There, Japhet, had you hired yourself I should not have paid you more than seven shillings per week, finding you in food; but you must acknowledge that for six weeks that is not bad pay. However, your earnings will depend upon our success, and I rather think that we shall make a much better thing of it when next we start, which will be in about a fortnight; but we have some arrangements to make. Has Timothy a good memory?"

"I think he has."

"That is well. I told you before that we are to try the 'Wise Man,'—but first we must have Nattee in play. To-morrow we will start for ——," mentioning a small quiet town about four miles off.

We did so, early the next morning, and arrived about noon, pitching our tents on the common, not far from the town; but in this instance we left all the rest of our gang behind. Melchior's own party and his two tents were all that were brought by the donkeys.

Melchior and I, dressed as countrymen, went into the town at dusk, and entered a respectable sort of inn, taking our seats at one of the tables in the tap-room, and, as we had already planned, after we had called for beer, commenced a conversation in the hearing of the others who were sitting drinking and smoking.

"Well, I never will believe it—it's all cheat and trickery," said Melchior, "and they only do it to pick your pocket. Tell your fortune, indeed! I suppose she promised you a rich wife and half-a-dozen children."

"No, she did not," replied I, "for I am too young to marry; but she told me what I know has happened."

"Well, what was that?"

"Why, she told me that my mother had married again, and turned me out of doors to work for my bread."

"But she might have heard that."

"How could she? No, that's not possible; but she told me I had a mole on my knee, which was a sign of luck. Now how could she know that?"

"Well, I grant that was odd—and pray what else did she promise you?"

"Why, she said, that I should meet with my dearest friend to-night. Now that does puzzle me, for I have but one in the world, and he is a long way off."

"Well, if you do meet your friend, then I'll believe her; but if not, it has been all guess-work; and pray what did you pay for all this—was it a shilling, or did she pick your pocket?"

"That's what puzzles me,—she refused to take anything. I offered it again and again, and she said,'No; that she would have no money—that her gift was not to be sold.'"

"Well, that is odd. Do you hear what this young man says," said Melchior, addressing the others, who had swallowed every word.

"Yes," replied one; "but who is this person?"

"The queen of the gipsies, I am told. I never saw such a wonderful woman in my life—her eye goes right through you. I met her on the common, and, as she passed, she dropped a handkerchief. I ran back to give it her, and then she thanked me, and said, 'Open your hand and let me see the palm. Here are great lines, and you will be fortunate;' and then she told me a great deal more, and bid God bless me."

"Then if she said that, she cannot have dealings with the devil," observed Melchior.

"Very odd—very strange—take no money—queen of the gipsies," was echoed from all sides.

The landlady and the barmaid listened with wonder, when who should come in, as previously agreed, but Timothy. I pretended not to see him, but he came up to me, seizing me by the hand, and shaking it with apparent delight, and crying, "Wilson, have you forgot Smith?"

"Smith!" cried I, looking earnestly in his face. "Why, so it is. How came you here?"

"I left Dublin three days ago," replied he, "but how I came here into this house, is one of the strangest things that ever occurred. I was walking over the common, when a tall handsome woman looked at me, and said, 'Young man, if you will go into the third public-house you pass, you will meet an old friend, who expects you.' I thought she was laughing at me, but as it mattered very little in which house I passed the night, I thought, for the fun of the thing I might as well take her advice."

"How strange!" cried Melchior, "and she told him the same—that is, he would meet a friend."

"Strange—very strange—wonderful—astonishing!" was echoed from all quarters, and the fame of the gipsy was already established.

Timothy and I sat down together, conversing as old friends, and Melchior went about from one to the other, narrating the wonderful occurrence till past midnight, when we all three took beds at the inn, as if we were travellers.

The report which we had circulated that evening induced many people to go out to see Nattee, who appeared to take no notice of them; and when asked to tell fortunes, waved them away with her hand. But, although this plan of Melchior's was, for the first two or three days very expedient, yet, as it was not intended to last, Timothy, who remained with me at the inn, became very intimate with the barmaid, and obtained from her most of the particulars of her life. I, also, from repeated conversations with the landlady, received information very important, relative to herself, and many of the families in the town, but as the employment of Nattee was for an ulterior object, we contented ourselves with gaining all the information we could before we proceeded further. After we had been there a week, and the fame of the gipsy woman had been marvellously increased—many things having been asserted of her which were indeed truly improbable—Melchior agreed that Timothy should persuade the barmaid to try if the gipsy woman would tell her fortune: the girl, with some trepidation, agreed, but at the same time, expecting to be refused, consented to walk with him over the common. Timothy advised her to pretend to pick up a sixpence when near to Nattee, and ask her if it did not belong to her, and the barmaid acted upon his suggestions, having just before that quitted the arm of Timothy, who had conducted her.

"Did you drop a sixpence? I have picked up one," said the girl, trembling with fear as she addressed Nattee.

"Child," replied Nattee, who was prepared, "I have neither dropped a sixpence nor have you found one—but never mind that, I know that which you wish, and I know who you are. Now what would you with me? Is it to inquire whether the landlord and landlady of the Golden Lion intend to keep you in their service?"

"No," replied the girl, frightened at what she heard; "not to inquire that, but to ask what my fortune will be?"

"Open your palm, pretty maid, and I will tell you. Hah! I see that you were born in the West—your father is dead—your mother is in service—and let me see,—you have a brother at sea—now in the West Indies."

At this intelligence, all of which, as may be supposed, had been gathered by us, the poor girl was so frightened that she fell down in a swoon, and Timothy carried her off. When she was taken home to the inn, she was so ill that she was put into bed, and what she did say was so incoherent, that, added to Timothy's narrative, the astonishment of the landlady and others was beyond all bounds. I tried very hard to bring the landlady, but she would not consent; and now Nattee was pestered by people of higher condition, who wished to hear what she would say. Here Nattee's powers were brought into play. She would not refuse to see them, but would not give answers till she had asked questions, and, as from us she had gleaned much general information, so by making this knowledge appear in her questions to them, she made them believe she knew more. If a young person came to her, she would immediately ask the name—of that name she had all the references acquired from us, as to family and connections. Bearing upon them, she would ask a few more, and then give them an abrupt dismissal.

This behaviour was put up with from one of her commanding presence, who refused money, and treated those who accosted her, as if she was their superior. Many came again and again, telling her all they knew, and acquainting her with every transaction of their life, to induce her to prophesy, for such, she informed them, was the surest way to call the spirit upon her. By these means we obtained the secret history of the major part, that is, the wealthier part of the town of ——; and although the predictions of Nattee were seldom given, yet when given, they were given with such perfect and apparent knowledge of the parties, that when she left, which she did about six weeks after her first appearance, the whole town rang with accounts of her wonderful powers.

It will appear strange that Melchior would not permit Nattee to reap a harvest, which might have been great; but the fact was, that he only allowed the seed to be sown that a greater harvest might be gathered hereafter. Nattee disappeared, the gipsie's tent was no longer on the common, and the grass, which had been beaten down into a road by the feet of the frequent applicants to her, was again permitted to spring up. We also took our departure, and rejoined the camp with Nattee, where we remained for a fortnight, to permit the remembrance of her to subside a little—knowing that the appetite was alive, and would not be satisfied until it was appeased.

After that time, Melchior, Timothy, and I, again set off for the town of ——, and stopping at a superior inn in another part of the town, dressed as travellers, that is, people who go about the country for orders from the manufacturers, ordered our beds and supper in the coffee-room. The conversation was soon turned upon the wonderful powers of Nattee, the gipsy. "Nonsense," said Melchior, "she knows nothing. I have heard of her. But there is a man coming this way (should he happen to pass through this town) who will surprise and frighten you. No one knows who he is. He is named the Great Aristodemus. He knows the past, the present, and the future. He never looks at people's hands—he only looks you in the face, and woe be to them who tell him a lie. Otherwise, he is good-tempered and obliging, and will tell what will come to pass, and his predictions never have been known to fail. They say that he is hundreds of years old, and his hair is white as silver." At this information many expressed their doubts, and many others vaunted the powers of the gipsy. Melchior replied, "that all he knew was, that for the sum of two guineas paid down, he had told him of a legacy left him of six hundred pounds, which otherwise he would never have known of or received." All the town of —— being quite alive for fortune-telling, this new report gained wind, and after a week's sojourn, Melchior thought that the attempt should be made.



Chapter XIII

The seed having been carefully sown, we now reap a golden harvest—We tell every body what they knew before, and we are looked upon as most marvellous by most marvellous fools.

We accordingly packed up, and departed to another market town. Timothy, dressed in a sombre suit of black, very much like an undertaker, was provided with a horse, with the following directions: to proceed leisurely until he was within half a mile of the town of ——, and then to gallop in as fast as he could, stop at the best inn in the place, and order apartments for the Great Aristodemus, who might be expected in half an hour. Every thing in this world depends upon appearances, that is, when you intend to gull it; and as every one in the town had heard of the Great Aristodemus, so every one was anxious to know something about him, and Timothy was pestered with all manner of questions; but he declared that he was only his courier, and could only tell what other people said; but then what other people said, by Timothy's account, was very marvellous indeed. Timothy had hardly time to secure the best rooms in the hotel, when Melchior, dressed in a long flowing silk gown, with a wig of long white hair, a square cap, and two or three gold chains hanging from his neck, certainly most admirably disguised, and attended by me in the dress of a German student, a wig of long brown locks hanging down my shoulders, made our appearance in a post-chaise and four, and drove up to the door of the inn, at a pace which shook every house in the street, and occasioned every window to be tenanted with one or more heads to ascertain the cause of this unusual occurrence, for it was not a very great town, although once of importance; but the manufactures had been removed, and it was occupied by those who had become independent by their own exertions, or by those of their forefathers.

The door of the chaise was opened by the obsequious Timothy, who pushed away the ostlers and waiters, as if unworthy to approach his master, and the Great Aristodemus made his appearance. As he ascended the steps of the door, his passage was for a moment barred by one whose profession Melchior well knew. "Stand aside, exciseman!" said he, in a commanding voice. "No one crosses my path with impunity." Astonished at hearing his profession thus mentioned, the exciseman, who was the greatest bully in the town, slipped on one side with consternation, and all those present lifted up their eyes and hands with astonishment. The Great Aristodemus gained his room, and shut his door; and I went out to pay for the chaise and order supper, while Timothy and the porters were busy with our luggage, which was very considerable.

"My master will not see any one," said I to the landlord; "he quits this town to-morrow, if the letters arrive which he expects by the post; therefore, pray get rid of this crowd, and let him be quiet, for he is very tired, having travelled one hundred and fifty miles since the dawn of day."

When Tim and I had performed this duty, we joined Melchior in his room, leaving the news to be circulated. "This promises well," observed Melchior; "up to the present we have expended much time and money; now we must see if we cannot recover it tenfold. Japhet, you must take an opportunity of going out again after supper, and make inquiries of the landlord what poor people they have in the town, as I am very generous, and like to relieve them; you may observe, that all the money offered to me for practising my art, I give away to the poor, having no occasion for it." This I did, and we then sat down to supper, and having unpacked our baggage, went to bed, after locking the door of the room, and taking out the key.

The next morning we had every thing in readiness, and as the letters, as the reader may suppose, did not arrive by the post, we were obliged to remain, and the landlord ventured to hint to me, that several people were anxious to consult my master. I replied, that I would speak to him, but it was necessary to caution those who came, that they must either offer gold—or nothing at all. I brought his consent to see one or two, but no more. Now, although we had various apparatus to use when required, it was thought that the effect would be greater, if, in the first instance, every thing was simple. Melchior, therefore, remained sitting at the table, which was covered with a black cloth, worked with curious devices, and a book of hieroglyphics before him, and an ivory wand, tipped with gold, lying by the book. Timothy standing at the door, with a short Roman sword buckled round his belt, and I, in a respectful attitude, behind the Great Aristodemus.

The first person who was admitted was the lady of the mayor of the town; nothing could be more fortunate, as we had every information relative to her and her spouse, for people in high places are always talked of. Aristodemus waved his hand, and I brought forward a chair in silence, and motioned that she should be seated. Aristodemus looked her in her face, and then turned over several leaves, until he fixed upon a page, which he considered attentively. "Mayoress of ——, what wouldst thou with me?"

She started, and turned pale. "I would ask—"

"I know; thou wouldst ask many things, perhaps, had I time to listen. Amongst others thou wouldst ask if there is any chance of thy giving an heir to thy husband. Is it not so?"

"Yes, it is," replied the lady, fetching her breath.

"So do I perceive by this book; but let me put one question to thee. Wouldst thou have blessings showered on thee, yet do no good? Thou art wealthy—yet what dost thou and thy husband do with these riches? Are ye liberal? No. Give, and it shall be given. I have said."

Aristodemus waved his hand, and the lady rose to withdraw. A guinea was in her fingers, and her purse in her hand; she took out four more, and added them to the other, and laid them on the table.

"'Tis well, lady; charity shall plead for thee. Artolphe, let that money be distributed among the poor."

I bowed in silence, and the lady retired.

"Who will say that I do no good," observed Melchior, smiling, as soon as she was gone, "Her avarice and that of her husband are as notorious as their anxiety for children. Now, if I persuade them to be liberal, I do service."

"But you have given her hopes."

"I have, and the very hope will do more to further their wishes than anything else. It is despair which too often prevents those who have no children, from having any. How often do you see a couple, who, after years waiting for children, have at last given up their hope, and resigned themselves to the dispensations of Providence, and then, when their anxiety has subsided, have obtained a family? Japhet, I am a shrewd observer of human nature."

"That I believe," replied I; "but I do not believe your last remark to be correct—but Timothy raps at the door."

Another lady entered the room, and then started back, as if she would retreat, so surprised was she at the appearance of the Great Aristodemus; but as Timothy had turned the key, her escape was impossible. She was unknown to us, which was rather awkward; but Melchior raised his eyes from his book, and waved his hand as before, that she should be seated. With some trepidation she stated, that she was a widow, whose dependence was upon an only son now at sea; that she had not heard of him for a long while, and was afraid that some accident had happened; that she was in the greatest distress—"and," continued she, "I have nothing to offer but this ring. Can you tell me if he is yet alive?" cried she, bursting into tears; "but if you have not the art you pretend to, O do not rob a poor, friendless creature, but let me depart!"

"When did you receive your last letter from him?" said Melchior.

"It is now seven months—dated from Bahia," replied she, pulling it out of her reticule, and covering her face with her handkerchief.

Melchior caught the address, and then turned the letter over on the other side, as it lay on the table. "Mrs Watson," said he.

"Heavens! do you know my name?" cried the woman.

"Mrs Watson, I do not require to read your son's letter—I know its contents." He then turned over his book, and studied for a few seconds. "Your son is alive."

"Thank God!" cried she, clasping her hands, and dropping her reticule.

"But you must not expect his return too soon—he is well employed."

"Oh! I care not—he is alive—he is alive! God bless you—God bless you!"

Melchior made a sign to me, pointing to the five guineas and the reticule; and I contrived to slip them into her reticule, while she sobbed in her handkerchief.

"Enough, madam; you must go, for others require my aid."

The poor woman rose, and offered the ring.

"Nay, nay, I want not thy money; I take from the rich, that I may distribute to the poor—but not from the widow in affliction. Open thy bag." The widow took up her bag, and opened it. Melchior dropped in the ring, taking his wand from the table, waved it, and touched the bag. "As thou art honest, so may thy present wants be relieved. Seek, and thou shalt find."

The widow left the room with tears of gratitude; and I must say, that I was affected with the same. When she had gone, I observed to Melchior, that up to the present he had toiled for nothing.

"Very true, Japhet; but depend upon it, if I assisted that poor woman from no other feelings than interested motives, I did well; but I tell thee candidly, I did it from compassion. We are odd mixtures of good and evil. I wage war with fools and knaves, but not with all the world. I gave that money freely—she required it; and it may be put as a set-off against my usual system of fraud, or it may not—at all events, I pleased myself."

"But you told her that her son was alive."

"Very true, and he may be dead; but is it not well to comfort her—even for a short time, to relieve that suspense which is worse than the actual knowledge of his death? Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof."

It would almost have appeared that this good action of Melchior met with its reward, for the astonishment of the widow at finding the gold in her reticule—her narrative of what passed, and her assertion (which she firmly believed to be true), that she had never left her reticule out of her hand, and that Melchior had only touched it with his wand, raised his reputation to that degree, that nothing else was talked about throughout the town, and, to crown all, the next day's post brought her a letter and remittances from her son; and the grateful woman returned, and laid ten guineas on the black cloth, showering a thousand blessings upon Melchior, and almost worshipped him as a supernatural being. This was a most fortunate occurrence, and as Melchior prophesied, the harvest did now commence. In four days we had received upwards of L200, and we then thought it time that we should depart. The letters arrived, which were expected, and when we set off in a chaise and four, the crowd to see us was so great, that it was with difficulty we could pass through it.



Chapter XIV

In which Melchior talks very much like an astrologer, and Tim and I return to our old trade of making up innocent prescriptions.

We had taken our horses for the next town; but as soon as we were fairly on the road, I stopped the boys, and told them that the Great Aristodemus intended to observe the planets and stars that night, and that they were to proceed to a common which I mentioned. The post-boys, who were well aware of his fame, and as fully persuaded of it as everybody else, drove to the common; we descended, took off the luggage, and received directions from Melchior in their presence about the instruments, to which the boys listened with open mouths and wonderment. I paid them well, and told them they might return, which they appeared very glad to do. They reported what had occurred, and this simple method of regaining our camp, added to the astonishment of the good town of ——. When they were out of sight we resumed our usual clothes, packed all up, carried away most of our effects, and hid the others in the furze to be sent for the next night, not being more than two miles from the camp. We soon arrived, and were joyfully received by Fleta and Nattee.

As we walked across the common, I observed to Melchior, "I wonder if these stars have any influence upon mortals, as it was formerly supposed?"

"Most assuredly they have," rejoined Melchior. "I cannot read them, but I firmly believe in them."

I made the above remark, as I had often thought that such was Melchior's idea.

"Yes," continued he, "every man has his destiny—such must be the case. It is known beforehand what is to happen to us by an Omniscient Being, and being known, what is it but destiny which cannot be changed? It is fate," continued he, surveying the stars with his hand raised up, "and that fate is as surely written there as the sun shines upon us; but the great book is sealed, because it would not add to our happiness."

"If, then, all is destiny, or fate, what inducement is there to do well or ill?" replied I. "We may commit all acts of evil, and say, that as it was predestined, we could not help it. Besides would it be just that the Omniscient Being should punish us for those crimes which we cannot prevent, and which are allotted to us by destiny?"

"Japhet, you argue well; but you are in error, because, like most of those of the Christian Church, you understand not the sacred writings, nor did I until I knew my wife. Her creed is, I believe, correct; and what is more, adds weight to the truths of the Bible."

"I thought that gipsies had no religion."

"You are not the only one who supposes so. It is true that the majority of the tribe are held by the higher castes as serfs, and are not instructed; but with—if I may use the expression—the aristocracy of them it is very different, and their creed I have adopted."

"I should wish to hear their creed," replied I.

"Hear it then. Original sin commenced in heaven—when the angels rebelled against their God—not on earth."

"I will grant that sin originated first in heaven."

"Do you think that a great, a good God, ever created any being for its destruction and eternal misery, much less an angel? Did he not foresee their rebellion?"

"I grant it."

"This world was not peopled with the image of God until after the fall of the angels: it had its living beings, its monsters perhaps, but not a race of men with eternal souls. But it was peopled, as we see it now is, to enable the legions of angels who fell to return to their former happy state—as a pilgrimage by which they might obtain their pardons, and resume their seats in heaven. Not a child is born, but the soul of some fallen cherub enters into the body to work out its salvation. Many do, many do not, and then they have their task to recommence anew; for the spirit once created is immortal, and cannot be destroyed; and the Almighty is all goodness, and would ever pardon."

"Then you suppose there is no such thing as eternal punishment?"

"Eternal!—no. Punishment there is, but not eternal. When the legions of angels fell, some were not so perverse as others: they soon re-obtained their seats, even when, as children, having passed through the slight ordeal, they have been summoned back to heaven; but others who, from their infancy, show how bad were their natures, have many pilgrimages to perform before they can be purified. This is, in itself, a punishment. What other punishment they incur between their pilgrimages we know not; but this is certain, that no one was created to be punished eternally."

"But all this is but assertion," replied I; "where are your proofs?"

"In the Bible; some day or other I will show them to you; but now we are at the camp, and I am anxious to embrace Nattee."

I thought for some time upon this singular creed; one, in itself, not militating against religion, but at the same time I could not call to mind any passages by which it could be supported. Still the idea was beautiful, and I dwelt upon it with pleasure. I have before observed, and indeed the reader must have gathered from my narative, that Melchior was no common personage. Every day did I become more partial to him, and more pleased with our erratic life. What scruples I had at first, gradually wore away; the time passed quickly, and although I would occasionally call to mind the original object of my setting forth, I would satisfy myself by the reflection, that there was yet sufficient time. Little Fleta was now my constant companion when in the camp, and I amused myself with teaching her to write and read.

"Japhet," said Timothy to me one day as we were cutting hazel broach wood in the forest, "I don't see that you get on very fast in your search after your father."

"No, Tim, I do not; but I am gaining a knowledge of the world which will be very useful to me when I recommence the search; and what is more, I am saving a great deal of money to enable me to prosecute it."

"What did Melchior give you after we left?"

"Twenty guineas, which, with what I had before, make more than fifty."

"And he gave me ten, which makes twenty, with what I had before. Seventy pounds is a large sum."

"Yes, but soon spent, Tim. We must work a little longer. Besides, I cannot leave that little girl—she was never intended for a rope-dancer."

"I am glad to hear you say that, Japhet, for I feel as you do—she shall share our fortunes."

"A glorious prospect truly," replied I, laughing; "but never mind, it would be better than her remaining here. But how are we to manage that?"

"Aye! that's the rub; but there is time enough to think about it when we intend to quit our present occupation."

"Well, I understand from Melchior that we are to start in a few days."

"What is it to be, Japhet?"

"Oh! we shall be at home—we are to cure all diseases under the sun. To-morrow we commence making pills, so we may think ourselves with Mr Cophagus again."

"Well, I do think we shall have some fun; but I hope Melchior won't make me take my own pills to prove their good qualities—that will be no joke."

"O no, Num is kept on purpose for that. What else is the fool good for?"

The next week was employed as we anticipated. Boxes of pills of every size, neatly labelled, bottles of various mixtures, chiefly stimulants, were corked and packed up. Powders of anything were put in papers; but, at all events, there was nothing hurtful in them. All was ready, and accompanied by Num (Jumbo and Fleta being left at home) we set off, Melchior assuming the dress in which we had first met him in the wagon, and altering his appearance so completely, that he would have been taken for at least sixty years old. We now travelled on foot with our dresses in bundles, each carrying his own, except Num, who was loaded like a pack-horse, and made sore lamentations:

"Can't you carry some of this?"

"No," replied I, "it is your own luggage; every one must carry his own."

"Well, I never felt my spangled dress so heavy before. Where are we going?"

"Only a little way," replied Timothy, "and then you will have nothing more to do."

"I don't know that. When master puts on that dress, I have to swallow little things till I'm sick."

"It's all good for your health, Num."

"I'm very well, I thank'e," replied the poor fellow; "but I'm very hot and very tired."



Chapter XV

In which Timothy makes a grand speech, quite as true as those delivered from the hustings—Melchior, like the candidate, states his pretentions for public favour, and the public, as usual, swallow the bait.

Fortunately for poor Num, we were not far from the market town at which we intended to open our campaign, which we did the next morning by Num and Timothy sallying forth, the former with a large trumpet in his hand, and the latter riding on a donkey. On their arrival at the market-place, Num commenced blowing it with all his might, while Timothy, in his spangled dress, as soon as they had collected a crowd, stood upon his saddle, and harangued the people as follows:—

"Gentlemen and ladies—I have the honour to announce to you the arrival in this town of the celebrated Doctor Appallacheosmocommetico, who has travelled farther than the sun and faster than a comet. He hath visited every part of the globe. He has smoked the calumet with the Indians of North America—he has hunted with the Araucas in the South—galloped on wild horses over the plains of Mexico, and rubbed noses with the Esquimaux. He hath used the chopsticks with the Chinese, swung the Cherok pooga with the Hindoos, and put a new nose on the Great Cham of Tartary. He hath visited and been received in every court of Europe: danced on the ice of the Neva with the Russians—led the mazurka with the Poles—waltzed with the Germans—tarantulaed with the Italians—fandangoed with the Spanish—and quadrilled with the French. He hath explored every mine in the universe, walked through every town on the continent, examined every mountain in the world, ascended Mont Blanc, walked down the Andes, and run up the Pyrenees. He has been into every volcano in the globe, and descending by Vesuvius has been thrown up by Stromboli. He has lived more than a thousand years, and is still in the flower of his youth. He has had one hundred and forty sets of teeth one after another, and expects a new set next Christmas. His whole life has been spent in the service of mankind, and in doing good to his fellow-creatures; and having the experience of more than a thousand years, he cures more than a thousand diseases. Gentlemen, the wonderful doctor will present himself before you this evening, and will then tell you what his remedies are good for, so that you may pick and choose according to your several complaints. Ladies, the wonderful doctor can greatly assist you: he has secrets by which you may have a family if you should so wish—philters to make husbands constant, and salve to make them blind—cosmetics to remove pimples and restore to youth and beauty, and powders to keep children from squalling. Sound the trumpet, Philotas; sound, and let every body know that the wonderful Doctor Appallacheosmocommetico has vouchsafed to stop here and confer his blessings upon the inhabitants of this town." Hereupon Num again blew the trumpet till he was black in the face; and Timothy, dropping on his donkey, rode away to other parts of the town, where he repeated his grandiloquent announcement, followed, as may be supposed, by a numerous cortege of little ragged boys.

About four o'clock in the afternoon, Melchior made his appearance in the market-place, attended by me, dressed as a German student, Timothy and Num in their costumes. A stage had been already prepared, and the populace had crowded round it more with the intention of laughing than of making purchases. The various packets were opened and arranged in front of the platform, I standing on one side of Melchior, Timothy on the other, and Num with his trumpet, holding on by one of the scaffold poles at the corner.

"Sound the trumpet, Philotas," said Melchior, taking off his three-cornered hat, and making a low bow to the audience, at every blast. "Pray, Mr Fool, do you know why you sound the trumpet?"

"I'm sure I don't know," replied Num, opening his goggle eyes.

"Do you know, Mr Dionysius?"

"Yes, sir, I can guess."

"Explain, then, to the gentlemen and ladies who have honoured us with their presence."

"Because, sir, trumpets are always sounded before great conquerors."

"Very true, sir-, but how am I a great conqueror?"

"You have conquered death, sir; and he's a very rum customer to have to deal with."

"Dionysius, you have answered well, and shall have some bullock's liver for your supper—don't forget to remind me, in case I forget it."

"No, that I won't, sir," replied Timothy, rubbing his stomach, as if delighted with the idea.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said Melchior to the audience, who were on the broad grin, "I see your mouths are all open, and are waiting for the pills; but be not too impatient—I cannot part with my medicines unless you have diseases which require their aid; and I should, indeed, be a sorry doctor, if I prescribed without knowing your complaints. Est neutrale genus signans rem non animatam, says Herodotus, which in English means, what is one man's meat is another man's poison; and further, he adds, Ut jecur, ut onus, put ut occiput, which is as much as to say, that what agrees with one temperament, will be injurious to another. Caution, therefore, becomes very necessary in the use of medicine; and my reputation depends upon my not permitting any one to take what is not good for him. And now, my very dear friends, I will first beg you to observe the peculiar qualities of the contents of this little phial. You observe, that there is not more than sixty drops in it, yet will these sixty drops add ten years to a man's life—for it will cure him of almost as many diseases. In the first place, are any of you troubled with the ascites, or dropsy, which, as the celebrated Galen hath declared, may be divided into three parts, the ascites, the anasarca, and the tympanites. The diagnostics of this disease are, swelling of the abdomen or stomach, difficulty of breathing, want of appetite, and a teasing cough. I say, have any of you this disease? None. Then I thank Heaven that you are not so afflicted.

"The next disease it is good for, is the peripneumonia, or inflammation on the lungs—the diagnostics or symptoms of which are, a small pulse, swelling of the eyes, and redness of the face. Say, have any of you these symptoms—if so, you have the disease. No one. I thank Heaven that you are none of you so afflicted.

"It is also a sovereign remedy for the diarrhoea, the diagnostics of which are, faintness, frequent gripings, rumbling in the bowels, cold sweats, and spasm."

Here one man came forward and complained of frequent gripings—another of rumbling in the bowels, and two or three more of cold sweats.

"It is well. O I thank Heaven that I am here to administer to you myself! for what says Hippocrates? Relativum cum antecedente concordat, which means, that remedies quickly applied, kill the disease in its birth. Here, my friends, take it—take it—pay me only one shilling and be thankful. When you go to rest, fail not to offer up your prayers. It is also a sovereign remedy for the dreadful chiragra or gout. I cured the whole corporation of city aldermen last week, by their taking three bottles each, and they presented me with the freedom of the city of London, in a gold box, which I am sorry that I have forgotten to bring with me. Now the chiragra may be divided into several varieties. Gonagra, when it attacks the knees—chiragra, if in the hands—onagra, if in the elbow—omagra, if in the shoulder, and lumbago, if in the back. All these are varieties of gout, and for all these the contents of this little bottle is a sovereign remedy; and, observe, it will keep for ever. Twenty years hence, when afflicted in your old age—and the time will come, my good people—you may take down this little phial from the shelf, and bless the hour in which you spent your shilling; for as Eusebius declares, 'Verbum personale concordat cum nominativo, which is as much as to say, the active will grow old, and suffer from pains in their limbs. Who, then, has pains in his limbs, or lumbago? Who, indeed, can say that he will not have them?"

After this appeal, the number of those who had pains in their limbs, or who wished to provide against such a disease, proved so great, that all our phials were disposed of, and the doctor was obliged to promise that in a few days he would have some more of this invaluable medicine ready.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I shall now offer to your notice a valuable plaister, the effects of which are miraculous. Dionysius, come hither, you have felt the benefit of this plaister; tell your case to those who are present, and mind you tell the truth."

Hereupon Timothy stepped forward. "Ladies and gentlemen, upon my honour, about three weeks back I fell off the scaffold, broke my back bone into three pieces, and was carried off to a surgeon, who looked at me, and told the people to take measure for my coffin. The great doctor was not there at the time, having been sent for to consult with the king's physicians upon the queen's case, of Cophagus, or intermitting mortification of the great toe; but fortunately, just as they were putting me into a shell, my master came back, and immediately applying his sovereign plaister to my back, in five days I was able to sit up, and in ten days I returned to my duty."

"Are you quite well now, Dionysius?"

"Quite well, sir, and my back is like whale-bone."

"Try it."

Hereupon Dionysius threw two somersets forward, two backward, walked across the stage on his hands, and tumbled in every direction.

"You see, gentlemen, I'm quite well now, and what I have said, I assure you, on my honour, to be a fact."

"I hope you'll allow that to be a very pretty cure," said the doctor, appealing to the audience; "and I hardly need say, that for sprains, bruises, contusions, wrenches, and dislocations, this plaister is infallible; and I will surprise you more by telling you, that I can sell it for eight-pence a sheet."

The plaister went off rapidly, and was soon expended. The doctor went on describing his other valuable articles, and when he came to his cosmetics, &c., for women, we could not hand them out fast enough. "And now," said the doctor, "I must bid you farewell for this evening."