........"Mark! He who would cut the knot that does entwine
And link two loving hearts in unison,
May have man's form; but at his birth, be sure on't,
Some devil thrust sweet nature's hand aside
Ere she had pour'd her balm within his breast,
To warm his gross and earthly mould with pity.
 
.......I know what 'tis
When worldly knaves step in with silver beards,
To poison bliss, and pluck young souls asunder.”
 
TOM and his Cousin were surprised the next morning by a visit from Mr. Mortimer and his friend Merrywell, whose dismal features and long visages plainly indicated some unpleasant disaster, and Tom began to fear blame would be attached to them for leaving his party at Darkhouse Lane.
“Pray,” said Merrywell, “can you tell me where to find your friend Sparkle?”
“Indeed,” replied Dashall, a little relieved by this question, “I am not Sparkle's keeper; but pray be seated—what is the matter, is it a duel, do you want a second?—I know he is a good shot.”
“This levity, Sir,” said Mortimer, “is not to be borne. The honour of a respectable family is at stake, and must be satisfied. No doubt you, as his very oldest friend, know where he is; and I desire you will immediately inform me, or———”
“Sir,” said Dashall, who was as averse as unused to be desired by any person—“do you know whom you address, and that I am in my own house? if you do, you have certainly discarded all propriety of conduct and language before you cross'd the threshold.”
“Gentlemen,” said Merrywell, “perhaps some explanation is really necessary here. My friend Mortimer speaks under agonized feelings, for which, I am sure, your good sense will make every allowance. Miss Mortimer———”
“Miss Mortimer,” exclaimed Dashall, rising from his [352] seat, “you interest me strongly, say, what of Miss Mortimer?”
“Alas,” said Mortimer, evidently endeavouring to suppress emotions which appeared to agitate his whole frame, and absorb every mental faculty, “we are unable to account for her absence, and strongly suspect she is in company with your friend Sparkle—can you give us any information relative to either of them?”
Dashall assured them he knew nothing of the fugitives, but that he would certainly make every inquiry in his power, if possible to find out Sparkle. Upon which they departed, though not without hinting they expected Tom had the power of making a search more effectually than either Mortimer or Merrywell.
“Egad!” said Tom to Tallyho, “this absence of Sparkle means something more than I can at present conceive; and it appears that we must now venture forth in search of our guide. I hope he has taken a good direction himself.”
“Mortimer appears hurt,” continued Bob, “and I can scarcely wonder at it.”
“It is a trifle in high life now-a-days,” replied Dashall, “and my life for it we shall obtain some clue to his mode of operation before the day is out. Love is a species of madness, and oftentimes induces extraordinary movements. I have discovered its existence in his breast for some time past, and if he is really with the lady, I wonder myself that he has not given some sort of intimation; though I know he is very cautious in laying his plans, and very tenacious of admitting too many persons to know his intentions, for fear of some indiscreet friend unintentionally frustrating his designs.”
“I apprehend we shall have a wild-goose chase of it,” rejoined Bob.
“It serves however,” continued Tom, “to diversify our peregrinations; and if it is his pleasure to be in love, we will endeavour to chase pleasure in pursuit of the Lover, and if guided by honourable motives, which I cannot doubt, we will wish him all the success he can wish himself, only regretting that we are deprived of his agreeable company.
“Still free as air the active mind will rove,
And search out proper objects for its love;
But that once fix'd, 'tis past the pow'r of art
To chase the dear idea from the heart.
?Tis liberty of choice that sweetens life,
Makes the glad husband and the happy wife.”
 
[353] “But come, let us forth and see how the land lies; many persons obtain all their notoriety from an elopement; it makes a noise in the world, and even though frequently announced in our newspapers under fictitious titles, the parties soon become known and are recollected ever after; and some even acquire fame by the insertion of a paragraph announcing an elopement, in which they insinuate that themselves are parties; so that an elopement in high life may be considered as one of the sure roads to popularity.”
“But not always a safe one,” replied Bob.
“Life is full of casualties,” rejoined Dashall, “and you are by this time fully aware that it requires something almost beyond human foresight to continue in the line of safety, while you are in pursuit of Real Life in London. Though it may fairly be said, 'That all the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely passengers,' still they have their inside and their outside places, and each man in his time meets with strange adventures. It may also very properly be termed a Camera Obscura, reflecting not merely trees, sign-posts, houses, &c. but the human heart in all its folds, its feelings, its passions, and its motives. In it you may perceive conceit flirting its fan—arrogance adjusting its cravat—pedantry perverting its dictionary—vacuity humming a tune—vanity humming his neighbour—cunning shutting his eyes while listening to a pedagogue—and credulity opening his eyes and ears, willing and anxious to be deceived and duped.”
“It is a strange world, indeed,” said Tallyho; “and of all that I have ever heard or seen, this London of your's is the most extraordinary part.”
“Yes,—
“This world is a well-cover'd table,
Where guests are promiscuously set;
We all eat as long as we're able,
And scramble for what we can get—”
 
answered his Cousin; “in fact, it is like every thing, and at the same time like nothing—[354]
“The world is all nonsense and noise,
Fantoccini, or Ombres Chinoises,
Mere pantomime mummery
Puppet-show flummery;
A magical lantern, confounding the sight;
 
Like players or puppets, we move
On the wires of ambition and love;
Poets write wittily,
Maidens look prettily,
?Till death drops the curtain
—all's over—good night!”
 
By this time they were at Long's, where, upon inquiry, all trace of Sparkle had been lost for two days. All was mystery and surprise, not so much that he should be absent, as that his servant could give no account of him, which was rather extraordinary. Tom ascertained, however, that no suspicion appeared to have been excited as to Miss Mortimer, and, with commendable discretion, avoided expressing a word which could create such an idea, merely observing, that most likely he had taken an unexpected trip into the country, and would be heard of before the day was out.
On leaving Long's however they were met again by Mortimer in breathless anxiety, evidently labouring under some new calamity.
“I am glad I have found you,” said he, addressing himself to Dashall; “for I am left in this d———d wilderness of a place without a friend to speak to.”
“How,” inquired Ton, “what the d———l is the matter with you?”
“Why, you must know that Merry well is gone—”
“Gone—where to?”
“To—to—zounds, I've forgot the name of the people; but two genteel looking fellows just now very genteely told him he was wanted, and must come.”
“Indeed!”
“Yes, and he told me to find you out, and let you know that he must become a bencher; and, without more todo, walked away with his new friends, leaving me forlorn enough. My Sister run away, my Uncle run after her—Sparkle absent, and Merrywell—”
“In the hands of the Nab-men—I see it all clear enough; and you have given a very concise, but comprehensive picture of your own situation; but don't despair, man, you will yet find all right, be assured; put yourself under my guidance, let the world wag as it will; it is useless to torment yourself with things you cannot prevent or cure.
“The right end of life is to live and be jolly.”
[355] Mortimer scarcely knew how to relish this advice, and seemed to doubt within himself whether it was meant satirically or feelingly, till Dashall whispered in his ear a caution not to betray the circumstances that had transpired, for his Sister's sake. “But,” continued he, “I never suffer these things, which are by no means uncommon in London, to interfere with my pursuits, though we are all somewhat at a loss. However, as the post is in by this time, some news may be expected, and we will call at home before we proceed any further.—Where do you think the Colonel is gone to?”
“Heaven only knows,” replied Mortimer; “the whole family is in an uproar of surmise and alarm,—what may be the end of it I know not.”
“A pretty breeze Master Sparkle has kick'd up, indeed,” continued Tom; “but I have for some time noticed an alteration in him. He always was a gay trump, and whenever I find him seriously inclined, I suspect some mischief brewing; for rapid transitions always wear portentous appearances, and your serious files are generally sly dogs. My life for it they have stolen a march upon your Uncle, queered some country Parson, and are by this time snugly stowed away in the harbour of matrimony. As for Merrywell, I dare be sworn his friends will take care of him.”
Expectation was on tiptoe as Dashall broke the seal of a letter that was handed to him on arrival at home. Mortimer was on the fidget, and Tallyho straining his neck upon the full stretch of anxiety to hear the news, when Dashall burst into a laugh, but in which neither of the others could join in consequence of not knowing the cause of it. In a few minutes however the mystery was in some degree explained.
“Here,” said Tom, “is news—extraordinary news—an official dispatch from head-quarters, but without any information as to where the tents are pitched. It is but a short epistle.” He then read aloud,
“Dear Dashall,
“Please inform the Mortimer family and friends that all's well.
Your's truly,
C. Sparkle.”
Then handing the laconic epistle to Mortimer—“I trust,” said he, “you will now be a little more at ease.”
[356] Mortimer eagerly examined the letter for the postmark, but was not able to make out from whence it came.
“I confess,” said he, “I am better satisfied than I was, but am yet at a loss to judge of the motives which have induced them to pursue so strange a course.”
“The motive,” cried Tom, “that may be easily explained; and I doubt not but you will find, although it may at present appear a little mysterious, Sparkle will be fully able to shew cause and produce effect. He is however a man of honour and of property, and most likely we may by this time congratulate you upon the change of your Sister's name. What a blaze it will make, and she will now most certainly become a sparkling subject. Hang it, man, don't look so dull upon a bright occasion.
“To prove pleasure but pain, some have hit on a project,
We're duller the merrier we grow,
Exactly the same unaccountable logic
That talks of cold fire and warm snow.
 
For me, born by nature
For humour and satire,
I sing and I roar and I quaff;
Each muscle I twist it,
I cannot resist it,
A finger held up makes me laugh.
 
For since pleasure's joy's parent, and joy begets mirth,
Should the subtlest casuist or sophist on earth
Contradict me, I'd call him an ass and a calf,
And boldly insist once for all,
That the only criterion of pleasure's to laugh,
And sing tol de rol, loi de rol lol.”
 
This mirth of Dash all's did not seem to be in consonance with the feelings of Mortimer, who hastily took his departure.
“Come,” said Tom to his Cousin, “having gained some information respecting one friend, we will now take a stroll through Temple Bar, and have a peep at Merrywell; he may perhaps want assistance in his present situation, though I will answer for it he is in a place of perfect security.”
“How,” said Bob—“what do you mean?”
“Mean, why the traps have nibbled him. He is arrested, and gone to a lock-up shop, a place of mere accommodation for gentlemen to take up their abode, for the purpose of [357] arranging their affairs, and where they can uninterruptedly make up their minds whether to give bail, put in appearance and defend the suit, or take a trip to Abbott's Priory; become a three months' student in the college of art, and undergo the fashionable ceremony of white-washing.”
“I begin to understand you now,” said Bob, “and the only difference between our two friends is, that one has willingly put on a chain for life—”
“And the other may in all probability (continued Tom,) have to chaff his time away with a chum—perhaps not quite so agreeable, though it really is possible to be very comfortable, if a man can reconcile himself to the loss of liberty, even in “durance vile.”
By this time they were walking leisurely along Piccadilly,
“And marching without any cumbersome load,
They mark'd every singular sight on the road.”
 
“Who is that meagre looking man and waddling woman, who just passed us?” inquired Tallyho.
“An old Bencher,” was the reply; “there you see all that is left of a man of haut ton, one who has moved in the highest circles; but alas! bad company and bad play have reduced him to what he now is. He has cut up and turn'd down very well among the usurers and attornies; but it is impossible to say of him, as of his sirloin of a wife (for she cannot be called a rib, or at all events a spare rib) that there is any thing like cut and come again. The poor worn-out Exquisite tack'd himself to his Lady, to enable him to wipe out a long score, and she determined on taking him for better for worse, after a little rural felicity in a walk to have her fortune told by a gipsy at Norwood. He is now crippled in pocket and person, and wholly dependent upon bounty for the chance of prolonging a miserable existence. His game is up. But what is life but a game, at which every one is willing to play? one wins and another loses: why there have been as many moves among titled persons, Kings, Queens, Bishops, Lords and Knights, within the last century, as there are in a game at chess. Pawns have been taken and restored in all classes, from the Sovereign, who pawns or loses his crown, to the Lady whose reputation is in pawn, and becomes at last not worth half a crown. Shuffling, cutting, dealing out and [358] dealing in, double dealing and double faces, have long been the order of the day. Some men's cards are all trumps, whilst others have carte blanche; some honours count, whilst others stand for nothing. For instance, did not the little man who cast up his final accounts a short time back at St. Helena, like a Corsican conjurer, shuffle and cut about among kings and queens, knaves and asses, (aces I mean) dealing out honours when he liked, and taking trumps as he thought fit?—did he not deal and take up again almost as he pleased, having generally an honour in his sleeve to be played at command, or un roi dans le marche; by which cheating, it was scarcely possible for any one to get fair play with him, till, flushed by success, and not knowing how to bear his prosperity, he played too desperately and too long? The tables were turned upon him, and his enemies cheated him, first of his liberty, and ultimately of his life.”
At this moment Tallyho, who was listening in close attention to his Cousin, struck his foot against a brown paper parcel which rolled before him.—“Hallo!” exclaimed he, “what have we here?—somebody has dropped a prize.”
“It is mine, Sir,” said an old woman, dropping them a curtsey with a smile which shone through her features, though thickly begrimed with snuff.
“A bite,” said Tom.
“I dropp'd it from my pocket, Sir, just now.”
“And pray,” inquired Tom, “what does it contain?” picking it up.
“Snuff, Sir,” was the reply; “a kind, good-hearted Gentleman gave it to me—God bless him, and bless your Honour too!” with an additional smile, and a still lower curtsey.
Upon examining the paper, which had been broken by the kick, Tom perceived, that by some magic or other, the old woman's snuff had become sugar.
“Zounds!” said he, “they have played some trick upon you, and given you brimstone instead of snuff, or else you are throwing dust in our eyes.”
The parcel, which contained a sample of sugar, was carefully rolled up again and tied, then dropped to be found by any body else who chose to stoop for it.
“This,” said Dashall, “does not turn out to be what I first expected; for the practices of ring and money [359] dropping{1} have, at various times, been carried on with great success, and to the serious injury of the unsuspecting. The persons who generally apply themselves to this species of cheating are no other than gamblers who ingeniously contrive, by dropping a purse or a ring, to draw in some customer with a view to induce him to play; and notwithstanding their arts have frequently been exposed, we every now and then hear of some flat being done by these sharps, and indeed there are constantly customers in London to be had one way or another.”
“Then you had an idea that that parcel was a bait of this kind,” rejoined Bob.
“I did,” replied his Cousin; “but it appears to be a legitimate letter from some industrious mechanic to his friend, and is a curious specimen of epistolary correspondence; and you perceive there was a person ready to claim it, which conspired rather to confirm my suspicions, being a little in the style of the gentry I have alluded to. They vary their mode of proceeding according to situation and circumstance. Your money-dropper contrives to find his own property, as if by chance. He picks up the purse with an exclamation of 'Hallo! what have we here?—Zounds! if here is not a prize—I'm in rare luck to-day—Ha, ha, ha, let's have a peep at it—it feels heavy, and no doubt is worth having.' While he is examining its contents, up comes his confederate, who claims a share on account of having been present at the finding. 'Nay, nay,' replies the finder, 'you are not in it. This Gentleman is the only person that was near me—was not you, Sir? 'By this means the novice is induced to assent, or perhaps assert his prior claim. The finder declares,
1 The practice of ring-dropping is not wholly confined to
London, as the following paragraph from the Glasgow Courier,
a very short time ago, will sufficiently prove:—'On Monday
afternoon, when three Highland women, who had been employed
at a distance from home in the harvest, were returning to
their habitations, they were accosted by a fellow who had
walked out a short way with them, 'till he picked up a pair
of ear-rings and a key for a watch. The fellow politely
informed the females that they should have half the value of
the articles, as they were in his company when they were
found. While they were examining them, another fellow came
up, who declared at once they were gold, and worth at least
thirty shillings. After some conversation, the women were
induced to give fifteen shillings for the articles, and came
and offered them to a watch-maker for sale, when they
learned to their mortification that they were not worth
eighteen pence!'
[360] that sooner than have any dispute about it, he will divide the contents in three parts; recommends an adjournment to a public-house in the neighbourhood, to wet the business and drink over their good luck. This being consented to, the leading points are accomplished. The purse of course is found to contain counterfeit money—Flash-screens or Fleet-notes,{1} and the division cannot well be made without change can be procured. Now comes the touch-stone. The Countryman, for such they generally contrive to inveigle, is perhaps in cash, having sold his hay, or his cattle, tells them he can give change; which being understood, the draught-board, cards, or la bagatelle, are introduced, and as the job is a good one, they can afford to sport some of their newly-acquired wealth in this way. They drink and play, and fill their grog again. The Countryman bets; if he loses, he is called upon to pay; if he wins, 'tis added to what is coming to him out of the purse.
“If, after an experiment or two, they find he has but little money, or fight shy, they bolt, that is, brush off in quick time, leaving him to answer for the reckoning. But if he is what they term well-breeched, and full of cash, they stick to him until he is cleaned out,{2} make him drunk, and, if he turns restive, they mill him. If he should be an easy cove,{3} he perhaps give them change for their flash notes, or counterfeit coin, and they leave him as soon as possible, highly pleased with his fancied success, while they laugh in their sleeves at the dupe of their artifice.”
“And is it possible?” inquired Tallyho—
“Can such things be,  and overcome us
Like a summer's cloud?”
 
“Not without our special wonder,” continued Dashall; “but such things have been practised. Then again, your ring-droppers, or practisers of the fawney rig, are more cunning in their manoeuvres to turn their wares into the ready blunt.{4} The pretending to find a ring being one of the meanest and least profitable exercises of their ingenuity, it forms a part of their art to find articles of much more
1 Flash-screens or Fleet-notes—Forged notes.
 
2 Cleaned out—Having lost all your money.
 
3 Easy cove—One whom there is no difficulty in gulling.
 
4 Ready blunt—Cash in hand.
[361] value, such as rich jewelry, broaches, ear-rings, necklaces set with diamonds, pearls, &c. sometimes made into a paper parcel, at others in a small neat red morocco case, in which is stuck a bill of parcels, giving a high-flown description of the articles, and with an extravagant price. Proceeding nearly in the same way as the money-droppers with the dupe, the finder proposes, as he is rather short of steeven,{1} to swap{2}his share for a comparatively small part of the value stated in the bill of parcels: and if he succeeds in obtaining one-tenth of that amount in hard cash, his triumph is complete; for, upon examination, the diamonds turn out to be nothing but paste—the pearls, fishes' eyes—and the gold is merely polished brass gilt, and altogether of no value. But this cannot be discovered beforehand, because the bilk{3} is in a hurry, can't spare time to go to a shop to have the articles valued, but assures his intended victim, that, as they found together, he should like to smack the bit,{4 }without blowing the gap,{5} and so help him G—d, the thing wants no buttering up,{6} because he is willing to give his share for such a trifle.”
1 Steeven—A flash term for money.
 
2 Swap—To make an exchange, to barter one article for
another.
 
3 A swindler or cheat.
 
4 Smack the bit—To share the booty.
 
5 Blowing the gap—Making any thing known.
 
6 Buttering up—Praising or flattering.
This conversation was suddenly interrupted by a violent crash just behind them, as they passed Drury Lane Theatre in their way through Bussel Court; and Bob, upon turning to ascertain from whence such portentous sounds proceeded, discovered that he had brought all the Potentates of the Holy Alliance to his feet. The Alexanders, the Caesars, the Buonapartes, Shakespeares, Addisons and Popes, lay strewed upon the pavement, in one undistinguished heap, while a poor Italian lad with tears in his eyes gazed with indescribable anxiety on the shapeless ruin—' Vat shall me do?—dat man knock him down—all brokt—you pay—Oh! mine Godt, vat shall do! ' This appeal was made to Dashall and Tallyho, the latter of whom the poor............