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Once more out of the clutches of his old persecutor, it needed no freshstimulation to call forth the utmost energy and exertion that Smike wascapable of summoning to his aid. Without pausing for a moment to reflectupon the course he was taking, or the probability of its leading himhomewards or the reverse, he fled away with surprising swiftness andconstancy of purpose, borne upon such wings as only Fear can wear, andimpelled by imaginary shouts in the well remembered voice of Squeers,who, with a host of pursuers, seemed to the poor fellow's disorderedsenses to press hard upon his track; now left at a greater distancein the rear, and now gaining faster and faster upon him, as thealternations of hope and terror agitated him by turns. Long after he hadbecome assured that these sounds were but the creation of his excitedbrain, he still held on, at a pace which even weakness and exhaustioncould scarcely retard. It was not until the darkness and quiet of acountry road, recalled him to a sense of external objects, and thestarry sky, above, warned him of the rapid flight of time, that, coveredwith dust and panting for breath, he stopped to listen and look abouthim.

All was still and silent. A glare of light in the distance, casting awarm glow upon the sky, marked where the huge city lay. Solitary fields,divided by hedges and ditches, through many of which he had crashed andscrambled in his flight, skirted the road, both by the way he had comeand upon the opposite side. It was late now. They could scarcely tracehim by such paths as he had taken, and if he could hope to regain hisown dwelling, it must surely be at such a time as that, and under coverof the darkness. This, by degrees, became pretty plain, even to the mindof Smike. He had, at first, entertained some vague and childish idea oftravelling into the country for ten or a dozen miles, and then returninghomewards by a wide circuit, which should keep him clear of London--sogreat was his apprehension of traversing the streets alone, lesthe should again encounter his dreaded enemy--but, yielding to theconviction which these thoughts inspired, he turned back, and taking theopen road, though not without many fears and misgivings, made for Londonagain, with scarcely less speed of foot than that with which he had leftthe temporary abode of Mr Squeers.

By the time he re-entered it, at the western extremity, the greater partof the shops were closed. Of the throngs of people who had been temptedabroad after the heat of the day, but few remained in the streets, andthey were lounging home. But of these he asked his way from time totime, and by dint of repeated inquiries, he at length reached thedwelling of Newman Noggs.

All that evening, Newman had been hunting and searching in byways andcorners for the very person who now knocked at his door, while Nicholashad been pursuing the same inquiry in other directions. He was sitting,with a melancholy air, at his poor supper, when Smike's timorous anduncertain knock reached his ears. Alive to every sound, in his anxiousand expectant state, Newman hurried downstairs, and, uttering a cry ofjoyful surprise, dragged the welcome visitor into the passage and up thestairs, and said not a word until he had him safe in his own garretand the door was shut behind them, when he mixed a great mug-full ofgin-and-water, and holding it to Smike's mouth, as one might hold a bowlof medicine to the lips of a refractory child, commanded him to drain itto the last drop.

Newman looked uncommonly blank when he found that Smike did little morethan put his lips to the precious mixture; he was in the act of raisingthe mug to his own mouth with a deep sigh of compassion for his poorfriend's weakness, when Smike, beginning to relate the adventures whichhad befallen him, arrested him half-way, and he stood listening, withthe mug in his hand.

It was odd enough to see the change that came over Newman as Smikeproceeded. At first he stood, rubbing his lips with the back of hishand, as a preparatory ceremony towards composing himself for a draught;then, at the mention of Squeers, he took the mug under his arm, andopening his eyes very wide, looked on, in the utmost astonishment. WhenSmike came to the assault upon himself in the hackney coach, he hastilydeposited the mug upon the table, and limped up and down the room in astate of the greatest excitement, stopping himself with a jerk, everynow and then, as if to listen more attentively. When John Browdie cameto be spoken of, he dropped, by slow and gradual degrees, into a chair,and rubbing, his hands upon his knees--quicker and quicker as the storyreached its climax--burst, at last, into a laugh composed of oneloud sonorous 'Ha! ha!' having given vent to which, his countenanceimmediately fell again as he inquired, with the utmost anxiety, whetherit was probable that John Browdie and Squeers had come to blows.

'No! I think not,' replied Smike. 'I don't think he could have missed metill I had got quite away.'

Newman scratched his head with a shout of great disappointment, andonce more lifting up the mug, applied himself to the contents; smilingmeanwhile, over the rim, with a grim and ghastly smile at Smike.

'You shall stay here,' said Newman; 'you're tired--fagged. I'll tellthem you're come back. They have been half mad about you. Mr Nicholas--'

'God bless him!' cried Smike.

'Amen!' returned Newman. 'He hasn't had a minute's rest or peace; nomore has the old lady, nor Miss Nickleby.'

'No, no. Has SHE thought about me?' said Smike. 'Has she though? oh, hasshe, has she? Don't tell me so if she has not.'

'She has,' cried Newman. 'She is as noble-hearted as she is beautiful.'

'Yes, yes!' cried Smike. 'Well said!'

'So mild and gentle,' said Newman.

'Yes, yes!' cried Smike, with increasing eagerness.

'And yet with such a true and gallant spirit,' pursued Newman.

He was going on, in his enthusiasm, when, chancing to look at hiscompanion, he saw that he had covered his face with his hands, and thattears were stealing out between his fingers.

A moment before, the boy's eyes were sparkling with unwonted fire, andevery feature had been lighted up with an excitement which made himappear, for the moment, quite a different being.

'Well, well,' muttered Newman, as if he were a little puzzled. 'It hastouched ME, more than once, to think such a nature should have beenexposed to such trials; this poor fellow--yes, yes,--he feels thattoo--it softens him--makes him think of his former misery. Hah! That'sit? Yes, that's--hum!'

It was by no means clear, from the tone of these broken reflections,that Newman Noggs considered them as explaining, at all satisfactorily,the emotion which had suggested them. He sat, in a musing attitude, forsome time, regarding Smike occasionally with an anxious and doubtfulglance, which sufficiently showed that he was not very remotelyconnected with his thoughts.

At length he repeated his proposition that Smike should remain where hewas for that night, and that he (Noggs) should straightway repair to thecottage to relieve the suspense of the family. But, as Smike wouldnot hear of this--pleading his anxiety to see his friends again--theyeventually sallied forth together; and the night being, by this time,far advanced, and Smike being, besides, so footsore that he could hardlycrawl along, it was within an hour of sunrise when they reached theirdestination.

At the first sound of their voices outside the house, Nicholas, who hadpassed a sleepless night, devising schemes for the recovery of his lostcharge, started from his bed, and joyfully admitted them. There was somuch noisy conversation, and congratulation, and indignation, that theremainder of the family were soon awakened, and Smike received a warmand cordial welcome, not only from Kate, but from Mrs Nickleby also, whoassured him of her future favour and regard, and was so obliging as torelate, for his entertainment and that of the assembled circle, a mostremarkable account extracted from some work the name of which she hadnever known, of a miraculous escape from some prison, but what one shecouldn't remember, effected by an officer whose name she had forgotten,confined for some crime which she didn't clearly recollect.

At first Nicholas was disposed to give his uncle credit for some portionof this bold attempt (which had so nearly proved successful) to carryoff Smike; but on more mature consideration, he was inclined tothink that the full merit of it rested with Mr Squeers. Determined toascertain, if he could, through John Browdie, how the case really stood,he betook himself to his daily occupation: meditating, as he went, ona great variety of schemes for the punishment of the Yorkshireschoolmaster, all of which had their foundation in the strictestprinciples of retributive justice, and had but the one drawback of beingwholly impracticable.

'A fine morning, Mr Linkinwater!' said Nicholas, entering the office.

'Ah!' replied Tim, 'talk of the country, indeed! What do you think ofthis, now, for a day--a London day--eh?'

'It's a little clearer out of town,' said Nicholas.

'Clearer!' echoed Tim Linkinwater. 'You should see it from my bedroomwindow.'

'You should see it from MINE,' replied Nicholas, with a smile.

'Pooh! pooh!' said Tim Linkinwater, 'don't tell me. Country!' (Bow wasquite a rustic place to Tim.) 'Nonsense! What can you get in the countrybut new-laid eggs and flowers? I can buy new-laid eggs in LeadenhallMarket, any morning before breakfast; and as to flowers, it's worth arun upstairs to smell my mignonette, or to see the double wallflower inthe back-attic window, at No. 6, in the court.'

'There is a double wallflower at No. 6, in the court, is there?' saidNicholas.

'Yes, is there!' replied Tim, 'and planted in a cracked jug, without aspout. There were hyacinths there, this last spring, blossoming, in--butyou'll laugh at that, of course.'

'At what?'

'At their blossoming in old blacking-bottles,' said Tim.

'Not I, indeed,' returned Nicholas.

Tim looked wistfully at him, for a moment, as if he were encouragedby the tone of this reply to be more communicative on the subject; andsticking behind his ear, a pen that he had been making, and shutting uphis knife with a smart click, said,

'They belong to a sickly bedridden hump-backed boy, and seem to be theonly pleasure, Mr Nickleby, of his sad existence. How many years is it,'said Tim, pondering, 'since I first noticed him, quite a little child,dragging himself about on a pair of tiny crutches? Well! Well! Not many;but though they would appear nothing, if I thought of other things, theyseem a long, long time, when I think of him. It is a sad thing,' saidTim, breaking off, 'to see a little deformed child sitting apart fromother children, who are active and merry, watching the games he isdenied the power to share in. He made my heart ache very often.'

'It is a good heart,' said Nicholas, 'that disentangles itself from theclose avocations of every day, to heed such things. You were saying--'

'That the flowers belonged to this poor boy,' said Tim; 'that's all.When it is fine weather, and he can crawl out of bed, he draws a chairclose to the window, and sits there, looking at them and arrangingthem, all day long. He used to nod, at first, and then we came to speak.Formerly, when I called to him of a morning, and asked him how he was,he would smile, and say, "Better!" but now he shakes his head, and onlybends more closely over his old plants. It must be dull to watch thedark housetops and the flying clouds, for so many months; but he is verypatient.'

'Is there nobody in the house to cheer or help him?' asked Nicholas.

'His father lives there, I believe,' replied Tim, 'and other people too;but no one seems to care much for the poor sickly cripple. I have askedhim, very often, if I can do nothing for him; his answer is always thesame. "Nothing." His voice is growing weak of late, but I can SEE thathe makes the old reply. He can't leave his bed now, so they have movedit close beside the window, and there he lies, all day: now looking atthe sky, and now at his flowers, which he still makes shift to trim andwater, with his own thin hands. At night, when he sees my candle, hedraws back his curtain, and leaves it so, till I am in bed. It seemssuch company to him to know that I am there, that I often sit at mywindow for an hour or more, that he may see I am still awake; andsometimes I get up in the night to look at the dull melancholy light inhis little room, and wonder whether he is awake or sleeping.

'The night will not be long coming,' said Tim, 'when he will sleep, andnever wake again on earth. We have never so much as shaken hands in allour lives; and yet I shall miss him like an old friend. Are there anycountry flowers that could interest me like these, do you think? Ordo you suppose that the withering of a hundred kinds of the choicestflowers that blow, called by the hardest Latin names that were everinvented, would give me one fraction of the pain that I shall feel whenthese old jugs and bottles are swept away as lumber? Country!' criedTim, with a contemptuous emphasis; 'don't you know that I couldn't havesuch a court under my bedroom window, anywhere, but in London?'

With which inquiry, Tim turned his back, and pretending to be absorbedin his accounts, took an opportunity of hastily wiping his eyes when hesupposed Nicholas was looking another way.

Whether it was that Tim's accounts were more than usually intricate thatmorning, or whether it was that his habitual serenity had been a littledisturbed by these recollections, it so happened that when Nicholasreturned from executing some commission, and inquired whether Mr CharlesCheeryble was alone in his room, Tim promptly, and without the smallesthesitation, replied in the affirmative, although somebody had passedinto the room not ten minutes before, and Tim took especial andparticular pride in preventing any intrusion on either of the brotherswhen they were engaged with any visitor whatever.

'I'll take this letter to him at once,' said Nicholas, 'if that's thecase.' And with that, he walked to the room and knocked at the door.

No answer.

Another knock, and still no answer.

'He can't be here,' thought Nicholas. 'I'll lay it on his table.'

So, Nicholas opened the door and walked in; and very quickly heturned to walk out again, when he saw, to his great astonishment anddiscomfiture, a young lady upon her knees at Mr Cheeryble's feet, and MrCheeryble beseeching her to rise, and entreating a third person, whohad the appearance of the young lady's female attendant, to add herpersuasions to his to induce her to do so.

Nicholas stammered out an awkward apology, and was precipitatelyretiring, when the young lady, turning her head a little, presentedto his view the features of the lovely girl whom he had seen at theregister-office on his first visit long before. Glancing from her to theattendant, he recognised the same clumsy servant who had accompaniedher then; and between his admiration of the young lady's beauty, andthe confusion and surprise of this unexpected recognition, he stoodstock-still, in such a bewildered state of surprise and embarrassmentthat, for the moment, he was quite bereft of the power either to speakor move.

'My dear ma'am--my dear young lady,' cried brother Charles in violentagitation, 'pray don't--not another word, I beseech and entreat you! Iimplore you--I beg of you--to rise. We--we--are not alone.'

As he spoke, he raised the young lady, who staggered to a chair andswooned away.

'She has fainted, sir,' said Nicholas, darting eagerly forward.

'Poor dear, poor dear!' cried brother Charles 'Where is my brother Ned?Ned, my dear brother, come here pray.'

'Brother Charles, my dear fellow,' replied his brother, hurrying intothe room, 'what is the--ah! what--'

'Hush! hush!--not a word for your life, brother Ned,' returned theother. 'Ring for the housekeeper, my dear brother--call Tim Linkinwater!Here, Tim Linkinwater, sir--Mr Nickleby, my dear sir, leave the room, Ibeg and beseech of you.'

'I think she is better now,' said Nicholas, who had been watching thepatient so eagerly, that he had not heard the request.

'Poor bird!' cried brother Charles, gently taking her hand in his, andlaying her head upon his arm. 'Brother Ned, my dear fellow, you will besurprised, I know, to witness this, in business hours; but--' here hewas again reminded of the presence of Nicholas, and shaking him bythe hand, earnestly requested him to leave the room, and to send TimLinkinwater without an instant's delay.

Nicholas immediately withdrew and, on his way to the counting-house, metboth the old housekeeper and Tim Linkinwater, jostling each other in thepassage, and hurrying to the scene of action with extraordinary speed.Without waiting to hear his message, Tim Linkinwater darted into theroom, and presently afterwards Nicholas heard the door shut and lockedon the inside.

He had abundance of time to ruminate on this discovery, for TimLinkinwater was absent during the greater part of an hour, during thewhole of which time Nicholas thought of nothing but the young lady, andher exceeding beauty, and what could possibly have brought her there,and why they made such a mystery of it. The more he thought of all this,the more it perplexed him, and the more anxious he became to know whoand what she was. 'I should have known her among ten thousand,' thoughtNicholas. And with that he walked up and down the room, and recallingher face and figure (of which he had a peculiarly vivid remembrance),discarded all other subjects of reflection and dwelt upon that alone.

At length Tim Linkinwater came back--provokingly cool, and with papersin his hand, and a pen in his mouth, as if nothing had happened.

'Is she quite recovered?' said Nicholas, impetuously.

'Who?' returned Tim Linkinwater.

'Who!' repeated Nicholas. 'The young lady.'

'What do you make, Mr Nickleby,' said Tim, taking his pen out of hismouth, 'what do you make of four hundred and twenty-seven times threethousand two hundred and thirty-eight?'

'Nay,' returned Nicholas, 'what do you make of my question first? Iasked you--'

'About the young lady,' said Tim Linkinwater, putting on his spectacles.'To be sure. Yes. Oh! she's very well.'

'Very well, is she?' returned Nicholas.

'Very well,' replied Mr Linkinwater, gravely.

'Will she be able to go home today?' asked Nicholas.

'She's gone,' said Tim.

'Gone!'

'Yes.'

'I hope she has not far to go?' said Nicholas, looking earnestly at theother.

'Ay,' replied the immovable Tim, 'I hope she hasn't.'

Nicholas hazarded one or two further remarks, but it was evident thatTim Linkinwater had his own reasons for evading the subject, and thathe was determined to afford no further information respecting the fairunknown, who had awakened so much curiosity in the breast of his youngfriend. Nothing daunted by this repulse, Nicholas returned to the chargenext day, emboldened by the circumstance of Mr Linkinwater being ina very talkative and communicative mood; but, directly he resumed thetheme, Tim relapsed into a state of most provoking taciturnity, and fromanswering in monosyllables, came to returning no answers at all, savesuch as were to be inferred from several grave nods and shrugs, whichonly served to whet that appetite for intelligence in Nicholas, whichhad already attained a most unreasonable height.

Foiled in these attempts, he was fain to content himself with watchingfor the young lady's next visit, but here again he was disappointed.Day after day passed, and she did not return. He looked eagerly at thesuperscription of all the notes and letters, but there was not one amongthem which he could fancy to be in her handwriting. On two or threeoccasions he was employed on business which took him to a distance, andhad formerly been transacted by Tim Linkinwater. Nicholas could not helpsuspecting that, for some reason or other, he was sent out of the wayon purpose, and that the young lady was there in his absence. Nothingtranspired, however, to confirm this suspicion, and Tim could not beentrapped into any confession or admission tending to support it in thesmallest degree.

Mystery and disappointment are not absolutely indispensable to thegrowth of love, but they are, very often, its powerful auxiliaries. 'Outof sight, out of mind,' is well enough as a proverb applicable to casesof friendship, though absence is not always necessary to hollownessof heart, even between friends, and truth and honesty, like preciousstones, are perhaps most easily imitated at a distance, when thecounterfeits often pass for real. Love, however, is very materiallyassisted by a warm and active imagination: which has a long memory, andwill thrive, for a considerable time, on very slight and sparingfood. Thus it is, that it often attains its most luxuriant growth inseparation and under circumstances of the utmost difficulty; and thus itwas, that Nicholas, thinking of nothing but the unknown young lady, fromday to day and from hour to hour, began, at last, to think that he wasvery desperately in love with her, and that never was such an ill-usedand persecuted lover as he.

Still, though he loved and languished after the most orthodox models,and was only deterred from making a confidante of Kate by the slightconsiderations of having never, in all his life, spoken to the objectof his passion, and having never set eyes upon her, except on twooccasions, on both of which she had come and gone like a flash oflightning--or, as Nicholas himself said, in the numerous conversationshe held with himself, like a vision of youth and beauty much too brightto last--his ardour and devotion remained without its reward. The younglady appeared no more; so there was a great deal of love wasted (enoughindeed to have set up half-a-dozen young gentlemen, as times go, withthe utmost decency), and nobody was a bit the wiser for it; not evenNicholas himself, who, on the contrary, became more dull, sentimental,and lackadaisical, every day.

While matters were in this state, the failure of a correspondent ofthe brothers Cheeryble, in Germany, imposed upon Tim Linkinwater andNicholas the necessity of going through some very long and complicatedaccounts, extending over a considerable space of time. To get throughthem with the greater dispatch, Tim Linkinwater proposed that theyshould remain at the counting-house, for a week or so, until ten o'clockat night; to this, as nothing damped the zeal of Nicholas in theservice of his kind patrons--not even romance, which has seldom businesshabits--he cheerfully assented. On the very first night of these laterhours, at nine exactly, there came: not the young lady herself, but herservant, who, being closeted with brother Charles for some time, wentaway, and returned next night at the same hour, and on the next, and onthe next again.

These repeated visits inflamed the curiosity of Nicholas to the veryhighest pitch. Tantalised and excited, beyond all bearing, and unableto fathom the mystery without neglecting his duty, he confided the wholesecret to Newman Noggs, imploring him to be on the watch next night;to follow the girl home; to set on foot such inquiries relative tothe name, condition, and history of her mistress, as he could, withoutexciting suspicion; and to report the result to him with the leastpossible delay.

Beyond all measure proud of this commission, Newman Noggs took up hispost, in the square, on the following evening, a full hour before theneedful time, and planting himself behind the pump and pulling his hatover his eyes, began his watch with an elaborate appearance of mystery,admirably calculated to excite the suspicion of all beholders. Indeed,divers servant girls who came to draw water, and sundry little boys whostopped to drink at the ladle, were almost scared out of their senses,by the apparition of Newman Noggs looking stealthily round thepump, with nothing of him visible but his face, and that wearing theexpression of a meditative Ogre.

Punctual to her time, the messenger came again, and, after an interviewof rather longer duration than usual, departed. Newman had made twoappointments with Nicholas: one for the next evening, conditional on hissuccess: and one the next night following, which was to be kept underall circumstances. The first night he was not at the place of meeting (acertain tavern about half-way between the city and Golden Square), buton the second night he was there before Nicholas, and received him withopen arms.

'It's all right,' whispered Newman. 'Sit down. Sit down, there's a dearyoung man, and let me tell you all about it.'

Nicholas needed no second invitation, and eagerly inquired what was thenews.

'There's a great deal of news,' said Newman, in a flutter of exultation.'It's all right. Don't be anxious. I don't know where to begin. Nevermind that. Keep up your spirits. It's all right.'

'Well?' said Nicholas eagerly. 'Yes?'

'Yes,' replied Newman. 'That's it.'

'What's it?' said Nicholas. 'The name--the name, my dear fellow!'

'The name's Bobster,' replied Newman.

'Bobster!' repeated Nicholas, indignantly.

'That's the name,' said Newman. 'I remember it by lobster.'

'Bobster!' repeated Nicholas, more emphatically than before. 'That mustbe the servant's name.'

'No, it an't,' said Newman, shaking his head with great positiveness.'Miss Cecilia Bobster.'

'Cecilia, eh?' returned Nicholas, muttering the two names togetherover and over again in every variety of tone, to try the effect. 'Well,Cecilia is a pretty name.'

'Very. And a pretty creature too,' said Newman.

'Who?' said Nicholas.

'Miss Bobster.'

'Why, where have you seen her?' demanded Nicholas.

'Never mind, my dear boy,' retorted Noggs, clapping him on the shoulder.'I HAVE seen her. You shall see her. I've managed it all.'

'My dear Newman,' cried Nicholas, grasping his hand, 'are you serious?'

'I am,' replied Newman. 'I mean it all. Every word. You shall see hertomorrow night. She consents to hear you speak for yourself. I persuadedher. She is all affability, goodness, sweetness, and beauty.'

'I know she is; I know she must be, Newman!' said Nicholas, wringing hishand.

'You are right,' returned Newman.

'Where does she live?' cried Nicholas. 'What have you learnt of herhistory? Has she a father--mother--any brothers--sisters? What did shesay? How came you to see her? Was she not very much surprised? Did yousay how passionately I have longed to speak to her? Did you tell herwhere I had seen her? Did you tell her how, and when, and where, and howlong, and how often, I have thought of that sweet face which came uponme in my bitterest distress like a glimpse of some better world--didyou, Newman--did you?'

Poor Noggs literally gasped for breath as this flood of questions rushedupon him, and moved spasmodically in his chair at every fresh inquiry,staring at Nicholas meanwhile with a most ludicrous expression ofperplexity.

'No,' said Newman, 'I didn't tell her that.'

'Didn't tell her which?' asked Nicholas.

'About the glimpse of the better world,' said Newman. 'I didn't tell herwho you were, either, or where you'd seen her. I said you loved her todistraction.'

'That's true, Newman,' replied Nicholas, with his characteristicvehemence. 'Heaven knows I do!'

'I said too, that you had admired her for a long time in secret,' saidNewman.

'Yes, yes. What did she say to that?' asked Nicholas.

'Blushed,' said Newman.

'To be sure. Of course she would,' said Nicholas approvingly. Newmanthen went on to say, that the young lady was an only child, that hermother was dead, that she resided with her father, and that she had beeninduced to allow her lover a secret interview, at the intercession ofher servant, who had great influence with her. He further related how itrequired much moving and great eloquence to bring the young lady to thispass; how it was expressly understood that she merely afforded Nicholasan opportunity of declaring his passion; and how she by no means pledgedherself to be favourably impressed with his attentions. The mystery ofher visits to the brothers Cheeryble remained wholly unexplained, forNewman had not alluded to them, either in his preliminary conversationswith the servant or his subsequent interview with the mistress, merelyremarking that he had been instructed to watch the girl home and pleadhis young friend's cause, and not saying how far he had followed her,or from what point. But Newman hinted that from what had fallen from theconfidante, he had been led to suspect that the young lady led a verymiserable and unhappy life, under the strict control of her only parent,who was of a violent and brutal temper; a circumstance which he thoughtmight in some degree account, both for her having sought the protectionand friendship of the brothers, and her suffering herself to beprevailed upon to grant the promised interview. The last he held to be avery logical deduction from the premises, inasmuch as it was but naturalto suppose that a young lady, whose present condition was so unenviable,would be more than commonly desirous to change it.

It appeared, on further questioning--for it was only by a very long andarduous process that all this could be got out of Newman Noggs--thatNewman, in explanation of his shabby appearance, had represented himselfas being, for certain wise and indispensable purposes connected withthat intrigue, in disguise; and, being questioned how he had come toexceed his commission so far as to procure an interview, he responded,that the lady appearing willing to grant it, he considered himselfbound, both in duty and gallantry, to avail himself of such a goldenmeans of enabling Nicholas to prosecute his addresses. After these andall possible questions had been asked and answered twenty times over,they parted, undertaking to meet on the following night at half-pastten, for the purpose of fulfilling the appointment; which was for eleveno'clock.

'Things come about very strangely!' thought Nicholas, as he walkedhome. 'I never contemplated anything of this kind; never dreamt of thepossibility of it. To know something of the life of one in whom I feltsuch interest; to see her in the street, to pass the house in which shelived, to meet her sometimes in her walks, to hope that a day mightcome when I might be in a condition to tell her of my love, this wasthe utmost extent of my thoughts. Now, however--but I should be a fool,indeed, to repine at my own good fortune!'

Still, Nicholas was dissatisfied; and there was more in thedissatisfaction than mere revulsion of feeling. He was angry with theyoung lady for being so easily won, 'because,' reasoned Nicholas, 'it isnot as if she knew it was I, but it might have been anybody,'--which wascertainly not pleasant. The next moment, he was angry with himself forentertaining such thoughts, arguing that nothing but goodness coulddwell in such a temple, and that the behaviour of the brotherssufficiently showed the estimation in which they held her. 'The factis, she's a mystery altogether,' said Nicholas. This was not moresatisfactory than his previous course of reflection, and only drove himout upon a new sea of speculation and conjecture, where he tossed andtumbled, in great discomfort of mind, until the clock struck ten, andthe hour of meeting drew nigh.

Nicholas had dressed himself with great care, and even Newman Noggs hadtrimmed himself up a little; his coat presenting the phenomenon oftwo consecutive buttons, and the supplementary pins being inserted attolerably regular intervals. He wore his hat, too, in the newesttaste, with a pocket-handkerchief in the crown, and a twisted end of itstraggling out behind after the fashion of a pigtail, though he couldscarcely lay claim to the ingenuity of inventing this latter decoration,inasmuch as he was utterly unconscious of it: being in a nervous andexcited condition which rendered him quite insensible to everything butthe great object of the expedition.

They traversed the streets in profound silence; and after walking at around pace for some distance, arrived in one, of a gloomy appearance andvery little frequented, near the Edgeware Road.

'Number twelve,' said Newman.

'Oh!' replied Nicholas, looking about him.

'Good street?' said Newman.

'Yes,' returned Nicholas. 'Rather dull.'

Newman made no answer to this remark, but, halting abruptly, plantedNicholas with his back to some area railings, and gave him to understandthat he was to wait there, without moving hand or foot, until it wassatisfactorily ascertained that the coast was clear. This done, Noggslimped away with great alacrity; looking over his shoulder everyinstant, to make quite certain that Nicholas was obeying his directions;and, ascending the steps of a house some half-dozen doors off, was lostto view.

After a short delay, he reappeared, and limping back again, haltedmidway, and beckoned Nicholas to follow him.

'Well?' said Nicholas, advancing towards him on tiptoe.

'All right,' replied Newman, in high glee. 'All ready; nobody at home.Couldn't be better. Ha! ha!'

With this fortifying assurance, he stole past a street-door, on whichNicholas caught a glimpse of a brass plate, with 'BOBSTER,' in verylarge letters; and, stopping at the area-gate, which was open, signed tohis young friend to descend.

'What the devil!' cried Nicholas, drawing back. 'Are we to sneak intothe kitchen, as if we came after the forks?'

'Hush!' replied Newman. 'Old Bobster--ferocious Turk. He'd kill 'emall--box the young lady's ears--he does--often.'

'What!' cried Nicholas, in high wrath, 'do you mean to tell me that anyman would dare to box the ears of such a--'

He had no time to sing the praises of his mistress, just then, forNewman gave him a gentle push which had nearly precipitated him to thebottom of the area steps. Thinking it best to take the hint in goodpart, Nicholas descended, without further remonstrance, but with acountenance bespeaking anything rather than the hope and rapture of apassionate lover. Newman followed--he would have followed head first,but for the timely assistance of Nicholas--and, taking his hand, led himthrough a stone passage, profoundly dark, into a back-kitchen or cellar,of the blackest and most pitchy obscurity, where they stopped.

'Well!' said Nicholas, in a discontented whisper, 'this is not all, Isuppose, is it?'

'No, no,' rejoined Noggs; 'they'll be here directly. It's all right.'

'I am glad to hear it,' said Nicholas. 'I shouldn't have thought it, Iconfess.'

They exchanged no further words, and there Nicholas stood, listening tothe loud breathing of Newman Noggs, and imagining that his nose seemedto glow like a red-hot coal, even in the midst of the darkness whichenshrouded them. Suddenly the sound of cautious footsteps attracted hisear, and directly afterwards a female voice inquired if the gentlemanwas there.

'Yes,' replied Nicholas, turning towards the corner from which the voiceproceeded. 'Who is that?'

'Only me, sir,' replied the voice. 'Now if you please, ma'am.'

A gleam of light shone into the place, and presently the servant girlappeared, bearing a light, and followed by her young mistress, whoseemed to be overwhelmed by modesty and confusion.

At sight of the young lady, Nicholas started and changed colour; hisheart beat violently, and he stood rooted to the spot. At that instant,and almost simultaneously with her arrival and that of the candle, therewas heard a loud and furious knocking at the street-door, which causedNewman Noggs to jump up, with great agility, from a beer-barrel on whichhe had been seated astride, and to exclaim abruptly, and with a face ofashy paleness, 'Bobster, by the Lord!'

The young lady shrieked, the attendant wrung her hands, Nicholas gazedfrom one to the other in apparent stupefaction, and Newman hurried toand fro, thrusting his hands into all his pockets successively, anddrawing out the linings of every one in the excess of his irresolution.It was but a moment, but the confusion crowded into that one moment noimagination can exaggerate.

'Leave the house, for Heaven's sake! We have done wrong, we deserve itall,' cried the young lady. 'Leave the house, or I am ruined and undonefor ever.'

'Will you hear me say but one word?' cried Nicholas. 'Only one. I willnot detain you. Will you hear me say one word, in explanation of thismischance?'

But Nicholas might as well have spoken to the wind, for the young lady,with distracted looks, hurried up the stairs. He would have followedher, but Newman, twisting his hand in his coat collar, dragged himtowards the passage by which they had entered.

'Let me go, Newman, in the Devil's name!' cried Nicholas. 'I must speakto her. I will! I will not leave this house without.'

'Reputation--character--violence--consider,' said Newman, clinging roundhim with both arms, and hurrying him away. 'Let them open the door.We'll go, as we came, directly it's shut. Come. This way. Here.'

Overpowered by the remonstrances of Newman, and the tears and prayersof the girl, and the tremendous knocking above, which had never ceased,Nicholas allowed himself to be hurried off; and, precisely as Mr Bobstermade his entrance by the street-door, he and Noggs made their exit bythe area-gate.

They hurried away, through several streets, without stopping orspeaking. At last, they halted and confronted each other with blank andrueful faces.

'Never mind,' said Newman, gasping for breath. 'Don't be cast down. It'sall right. More fortunate next time. It couldn't be helped. I did MYpart.'

'Excellently,' replied Nicholas, taking his hand. 'Excellently, and likethe true and zealous friend you are. Only--mind, I am not disappointed,Newman, and feel just as much indebted to you--only IT WAS THE WRONGLADY.'

'Eh?' cried Newman Noggs. 'Taken in by the servant?'

'Newman, Newman,' said Nicholas, laying his hand upon his shoulder: 'itwas the wrong servant too.'

Newman's under-jaw dropped, and he gazed at Nicholas, with his sound eyefixed fast and motionless in his head.

'Don't take it to heart,' said Nicholas; 'it's of no consequence; yousee I don't care about it; you followed the wrong person, that's all.'

That WAS all. Whether Newman Noggs had looked round the pump, in aslanting direction, so long, that his sight became impaired; or whether,finding that there was time to spare, he had recruited himself with afew drops of something stronger than the pump could yield--by whatsoevermeans it had come to pass, this was his mistake. And Nicholas went hometo brood upon it, and to meditate upon the charms of the unknown younglady, now as far beyond his reach as ever.