The String of Pearls; Or, The Barber of Fleet Street. A Domestic Romance.
sufficiently to Bacchus to be capable of any amount of effrontery, so
that she dreaded passing him, more especially as he swayed his arms
about like the sails of a windmill. She thought at least that when her
mother returned she would rescue her; but in that hope she was mistaken,
and Johanna had no more idea of the extent to which religious fanaticism
will carry its victim, than she had of the manners and customs of the
inhabitants of the moon. When Mrs. Oakley did return, she had some
difficulty in getting into the apartment, inasmuch as Mr. Lupin's chair
occupied so large a portion of it; but when she did obtain admission,
and Johanna said--
"Mother, I beg of you to protect me against this man, and allow me a
free passage from the apartment!"
Mrs. Oakley affected to lift up her hands in amazement, as she said--
"How dare you speak so disrespectfully of a chosen vessel? How dare you,
I say, do such a thing--it's enough to drive any one mad to see the
young girls now-a-days!"
"Don't snub her--don't snub the virgin," said Mr. Lupin; "she don't know
the honour yet that's intended her."
"She don't deserve it," said Mrs. Oakley, "she don't deserve it."
"Never mind, madam--never mind; we--we--we don't get all what we deserve
in this world."
"Take a drop of something, Mr. Lupin; you have got the hiccups."
"Yes; I--I rather think I have a little. Isn't it a shame that anybody
so intimate with the Lord should have the hiccups? What a lot of lights
you have got burning, Mrs. Oakley!"
"A lot of lights, Mr. Lupin! Why, there is only one; but perhaps you
allude to the lights of the gospel?"
"No; I--I don't, just at present; damn the lights of the gospel--that is
to say, I mean damn all backsliders! But there is a lot of lights, and
no mistake, Mrs. Oakley. Give me a drop of something, I'm as dry as
dust."
"There is some more mulled wine, Mr. Lupin; but I am surprised that you
think there is more than one light."
"It's a miracle madam, in consequence of my great faith. I have faith in
s--s--s--six lights, and here they are."
"Do you see that, Johanna?" exclaimed Mrs. Oakley, "are you not
convinced now of the holiness of Mr. Lupin?"
"I am convinced of his drunkenness, mother, and entreat of you to let me
leave the room at once."
"Tell her of the honour," said Mr. Lupin--"tell her of the honour."
"I don't know, Mr. Lupin; but don't you think it would be better to take
some other opportunity?"
"Very well, then, this is the opportunity."
"If it's your pleasure, Mr. Lupin, I will. You must know, then, Johanna,
that Mr. Lupin has been kind enough to consent to save my soul, on
condition that you marry him, and I am quite sure you can have no
reasonable objection; indeed, I think it's the least you can do, whether
you have any objection or not."
"Well put," said Mr. Lupin, "excellently well put."
"Mother," said Johanna, "if you are so far gone in superstition, as to
believe this miserable drunkard ought to come between you and heaven, I
am so lost as not to be able to reject the offer with more scorn and
contempt than ever I thought I could have entertained for any human
being; but hypocrisy never, to my mind, wears so disgusting a garb as
when it attires itself in the outward show of religion."
"This conduct is unbearable," cried Mrs. Oakley; "am I to have one of
the Lord's saints under my own roof?"
"If he were ten times a saint, mother, instead of being nothing but a
miserable, drunken profligate, it would be better that he should be
insulted ten times over, than that you should permit your own child to
have passed through the indignity of having to reject such a proposition
as that which has just been made. I must claim the protection of my
father; he will not suffer one, towards whom he has ever shown an
affection, the remembrance of which sinks deep into my heart, to meet
with so cruel an insult beneath his roof."
"That's right, my dear," cried Mr. Oakley, at that moment pushing open
the parlour-door. "That's right, my dear; you never spoke truer words in
all your life."
A faint scream came from Mrs. Oakley, and the Rev. Mr. Lupin immediately
seized upon the fresh jug of mulled wine, and finished it at a draught.
"Get behind me, Satan," he said. "Mr. Oakley, you will be damned if you
say a word to me."
"It's all the same, then," said Mr. Oakley; "for I'll be damned if I
don't. Then, Ben! Ben! come--come in, Ben."
"I'm a coming," said a deep voice, and a man about six feet four inches
in height, and nearly two-thirds of that amount in width, entered the
parlour. "I'm a coming, Oakley, my boy. Put on your blessed spectacles,
and tell me which is the fellow."
"I could have sworn it," said Mrs. Oakley, as she gave the table a knock
with her fist,--"I could have sworn when you came in, Oakley--I could
have sworn, you little snivelling, shrivelled-up wretch, you'd no more
have dared to come into this parlour as never was with those words in
your mouth, than you'd have dared to have flown, if you hadn't had your
cousin, Big Ben, the beef-eater, from the Tower, with you."
"Take it easy, ma'am," said Ben, as he sat down in a chair, which
immediately broke all to pieces with his weight. "Take it easy, ma'am;
the devil--what's this?"
"Never mind, Ben," said Mr. Oakley, "it's only a chair; get up."
"A cheer," said Ben; "do you call that a cheer? but never mind--take it
easy."
"Why, you big, bullying, idle, swilling and guttling ruffian!"
"Go on, marm, go on."
"You good-for-nothing lump of carrion; a dog wears his own coat, but you
wear your master's, you great stupid, overgrown, lurking hound. You
parish-brought-up wild beast, go and mind your lions and elephants in
the Tower, and don't come into honest people's houses, you cut-throat,
bullying, pickpocketing wretch."
"Go on, marm, go on."
This was a kind of dialogue that could not last, and Mrs. Oakley sank
down exhausted, and then Ben said--
"I tell you what, marm, I considers you--I looks upon you, marm, as a
female wariety of that ere animal as is very useful and sagacious,
marm."
There was no mistake in this allusion, and Mrs. Oakley was about to make
some reply, when the Rev. Mr. Lupin rose from his chair, saying--
"Bless you all! I think I'll go home."
"Not yet, Mr. Tulip," said Ben; "you had better sit down again--we've
got something to say to you."
"Young man, young man, let me pass. If you do not, you will endanger
your soul."
"I aint got none," said Ben; "I'm only a beef-eater, and don't pretend
to such luxuries."
"The heathen!" exclaimed Mrs. Oakley, "the horrid heathen! but there's
one consolation, and that is, that he will be fried in his own fat for
everlasting."
"Oh, that's nothing," said Ben; "I think I shall like it, especially if
it's any pleasure to you. I suppose that's what you call a Christian
consolation. Will you sit down, Mr. Tulip?"
"My name aint Tulip, but Lupin; but if you wish it, I don't mind sitting
down, of course."
The beef-eater, with a movement of his foot, kicked away the reverend
gentleman's chair, and down he sat with a dab upon the floor.
"My dear," said Mr. Oakley to Johanna, "you go to bed, and then your
mother can't say you have anything to do with this affair. I intend to
rid my house of this man. Good night, my dear, good night."
Johanna kissed her father on the cheek, and then left the room, not at
all sorry that so vigorous a movement was about being made for the
suppression of Mr. Lupin. When she was gone, Mrs. Oakley spoke, saying--
"Mr. Lupin, I bid you good night, and, of course, after the rough
treatment of these wretches, I can hardly expect you to come again. Good
night, Mr. Lupin, good night."
"That's all very well, marm," said Ben, "but before this ere wild beast
of a parson goes away, I want to admonish him. He don't seem to be wide
awake, and I must rouse him up."
Ben took hold of the reverend gentleman's nose, and gave it such an
awful pinch, that when he took his finger and thumb away, it was
perfectly blue.
"Murder! oh, murder! my nose! my nose!" shrieked Mr. Lupin, and at that
moment Mrs. Oakley, who was afraid to attack Ben, gave her husband such
an open-handed whack on the side of his head, that the little man reeled
again, and saw a great many more lights than the Rev. Mr. Lupin had done
under the influence of the mulled wine.
"Very good," said Ben; "now we are getting into, the thick of it."
With this Ben took from his pocket a coil of rope, one end of which was
a noose, and that he dexterously threw over Mrs. Oakley's head.
"Murder!" she shrieked. "Oakley, are you going to see me murdered before
your eyes?"
"There is such a singing in my ears," said Mr. Oakley, "that I can't see
anything."
"This is the way," said Ben, "we manages the wild beastesses when they
shuts their ears to all sorts of argument. Now, marm, if you please, a
little this way."
Ben looked about until he found a strong hook in the wall, over which,
in consequence of his great height, he was enabled to draw the rope, and
then the other end of it he tied securely to the leg of a heavy
secretaire that was in the room, so that Mrs. Oakley was well secured.
"Murder!" she cried. "Oakley, are you a man, that you stand by and see
me treated in this way by this big brute?"
"I can't see anything," said Mr. Oakley; "there is such a singing in my
ears; I told you so before--I can't see anything."
"Now, ma'am, you may just say what you like," said Ben; "it won't matter
a bit, any more than the grumbling of a bear with a sore head; and as
for you, Mr. Tulip, you'll just get down on your knees, and beg Mr.
Oakley's pardon for coming and drinking his tea without his leave, and
having the infernal impudence to speak to his daughter."
"Don't do it, Mr. Lupin," cried Mrs. Oakley--"don't do it."
"You hear," said Ben, "what the lady advises. Now, I am quite different;
I advise you to do it--for, if you don't, I shan't hurt you, but it
strikes me I shall be obliged to fall on you and crush you."
"I think I will," said Mr. Lupin: "the saints were always forced to
yield to the Philistines."
"If you call me any names," said Ben, "I'll just wring your neck,"
"Young man, young man, let me exhort you. Allow me to go, and I will put
up prayers for your conversion."
"Confound your impudence! what do you suppose the beasts in the Tower
would do, if I was converted? Why, that 'ere tiger, we have had lately,
would eat his own tail, to think as I had turned out such an ass. Come,
I can't waste any more of my precious time; and if you don't get down on
your knees directly, we'll see what we can do."
"I must," said Mr. Lupin, "I must, I suppose;" and down he flopped on
his knees.
"Very good; now repeat after me.--I am a wolf that stole sheeps'
clothing."
"Yes; 'I am a wolf that stole sheeps' clothing'--the Lord forgive me."
"Perhaps he may, and perhaps he mayn't. Now go on--all that's wirtuous
is my loathing."
"Oh dear, yes--'all that's wirtuous is my loathing.'"
"Mr. Oakley, I have offended."
"Yes; I am a miserable sinner, Mr. Oakley, I have offended."
"And asks his pardon, on my bended--"
"Oh dear, yes--I asks his pardon on my bended--The Lord have mercy upon
us, miserable sinners!"
"Knees--I won't do so no more."
"Yes,--knees, I won't do so no more."
"As sure as I lies on this floor."
"Yes,--as sure as I lies on this floor.--Death and the devil, you've
killed me!"
Ben took hold of the reverend gentleman by the back of the neck, and
pressed his head down upon the floor, until his nose, which had before
been such a sufferer, was nearly completely flattened with his face.
"Now you may go;" said Ben.