Chance will not do the work—Chance sends the breeze;
But if the pilot at the helm,
The very wind that us towards the port
May dash us on the shelves.—The steersman's part is vigilance,
Blow it or rough or smooth.
Old Play.
We left Nigel, whose fortunes we are bound to trace by the engagement contracted in our title-page, sad and in the of Trapbois the usurer, having just received a letter instead of a visit from his friend the Templar, stating reasons why he could not at that time come to see him in Alsatia. So that it appeared that his with the better and more respectable class of society, was, for the present, cut off. This was a , and, to a proud mind like that of Nigel, a degrading reflection.
He went to the window of his apartment, and found the street in one of those thick, , yellow-coloured fogs, which often invest the lower part of London and Westminster. Amid the darkness, and palpable, were seen to wander like a or two, whom the morning had surprised where the evening left them; and who now, with steps, and by an instinct which could not wholly overcome, were groping the way to their own homes, to convert day into night, for the purpose of sleeping off the which had turned night into day. Although it was broad day in the other parts of the city, it was scarce dawn yet in Alsatia; and none of the sounds of industry or occupation were there heard, which had long before aroused the slumberers in any other quarter. The was too and disagreeable to detain Lord Glenvarloch at his station, so, turning from the window, he examined with more interest the furniture and appearance of the apartment which he tenanted.
Much of it had been in its time rich and curious—there was a huge four-post bed, with as much carved oak about it as would have made the head of a man-of-war, and hangings ample enough to have been her sails. There was a huge mirror with a massy frame of brass-work, which was of Venetian manufacture, and must have been worth a considerable sum before it received the tremendous crack, which, traversing it from one corner to the other, bore the same proportion to the surface that the Nile bears to the map of Egypt. The chairs were of different forms and shapes, some had been carved, some , some covered with damasked leather, some with work, but all were damaged and worm-eaten. There was a picture of Susanna and the Elders over the chimney-piece, which might have been accounted a choice piece, had not the rats made free with the fair one's nose, and with the beard of one of her reverend admirers.
In a word, all that Lord Glenvarloch saw, seemed to have been articles carried off by or , or bought as pennyworths at some obscure broker's, and together in the apartment, as in a sale-room, without regard to taste or .
The place appeared to Nigel to resemble the houses near the sea-coast, which are too often furnished with the spoils of , as this was probably fitted up with the of ruined profligates.—“My own skiff is among the breakers,” thought Lord Glenvarloch, “though my will add little to the profits of the spoiler.”
He was chiefly interested in the state of the grate, a huge assemblage of iron bars which stood in the chimney, unequally supported by three feet, moulded into the form of lion's claws, while the fourth, which had been by an accident, seemed proudly uplifted as if to paw the ground; or as if the whole article had nourished the ambitious purpose of pacing into the middle of the apartment, and had one foot ready raised for the journey. A smile passed over Nigel's face as this fantastic idea presented itself to his fancy.—“I must stop its march, however,” he thought; “for this morning is chill and raw enough to demand some fire.”
He called accordingly from the top of a large staircase, with a heavy oaken balustrade, which gave access to his own and other apartments, for the house was old and of considerable size; but, receiving no answer to his repeated summons, he was compelled to go in search of some one who might accommodate him with what he wanted.
Nigel had, according to the fashion of the old world in Scotland, received an education which might, in most particulars, be termed simple, , and unostentatious; but he had, nevertheless, been accustomed to much personal , and to the constant attendance and of one or more domestics. This was the universal custom in Scotland, where wages were next to nothing, and where, indeed, a man of title or influence might have as many attendants as he pleased, for the expense of food, clothes, and . Nigel was therefore and when he found himself without notice or attendance; and the more dissatisfied, because he was at the same time angry with himself for suffering such a trifle to trouble him at all, amongst matters of more deep concernment. “There must surely be some servants in so large a house as this,” said he, as he wandered over the place, through which he was conducted by a passage which branched off from the gallery. As he went on, he tried the entrance to several apartments, some of which he found were locked and others unfurnished, all unoccupied; so that at length he returned to the staircase, and resolved to make his way down to the lower part of the house, where he supposed he must at least find the old gentleman, and his ill-favoured daughter. With this purpose he first made his entrance into a little low, dark parlour, containing a well-worn leathern easy-chair, before which stood a pair of , while on the left side rested a crutch-handled staff; an oaken table stood before it, and supported a huge desk clamped with iron, and a massive pewter inkstand. Around the apartment were shelves, cabinets, and other places convenient for depositing papers. A sword, musketoon, and a pair of pistols, hung over the chimney, in ostentatious display, as if to intimate that the would be prompt in the defence of his .
“This must be the usurer's den,” thought Nigel; and he was about to call aloud, when the old man, even by the slightest noise, for seldom sleeps sound, soon was heard from the inner room, speaking in a voice of , rendered more tremulous by his morning cough.
“Ugh, ugh, ugh—who is there? I say—ugh, ugh—who is there? Why, Martha!—ugh! ugh—Martha Trapbois—here be thieves in the house, and they will not speak to me—why, Martha!—thieves, thieves—ugh, ugh, ugh!”
Nigel endeavoured to explain, but the idea of thieves had taken possession of the old man's pineal , and he kept coughing and screaming, and screaming and coughing, until the gracious Martha entered the apartment; and, having first outscreamed her father, in order to convince him that there was no danger, and to assure him that the intruder was their new , and having as often heard her sire ejaculate—“Hold him fast—ugh, ugh—hold him fast till I come,” she at length succeeded in silencing his fears and his clamour, and then coldly and dryly asked Lord Glenvarloch what he wanted in her father's apartment.
Her lodger had, in the meantime, leisure to her appearance, which did not by any means improve the idea he had formed of it by candlelight on the preceding evening. She was dressed in what was called a Queen Mary's ruff and farthingale; not the falling ruff with which the unfortunate Mary of Scotland is usually painted, but that which, with more than Spanish stiffness, surrounded the throat, and set off the head, of her fierce namesake, of Smithfield memory. This dress well with the faded , grey eyes, thin lips, and visage of the antiquated , which was, moreover, enhanced by a black , worn as her head-gear, carefully disposed so as to prevent any of her hair from escaping to view, probably because the of the period knew no art of disguising the colour with which time had begun to grizzle her tresses. Her figure was tall, thin, and flat, with skinny arms and hands, and feet of the larger size, cased in huge high-heeled shoes, which added height to a already ungainly. Apparently some art had been used by the tailor, to a slight defect of shape, occasioned by the accidental of one shoulder above the other; but the praiseworthy efforts of the ingenious mechanic, had only succeeded in calling the attention of the observer to his purpose, without demonstrating that he had been able to achieve it.
Such was Mrs. Martha Trapbois, whose dry “What were you seeking here, sir?” fell again, and with sharpness, on the ear of Nigel, as he gazed upon her presence, and compared it internally to one of the faded and grim figures in the old tapestry which his bedstead. It was, however, necessary to reply, and he answered, that he came in search of the servants, as he desired to have a fire in his apartment on account of the rawness of the morning.
“The woman who does our char-work,” answered Mistress Martha, “comes at eight o'clock-if you want fire sooner, there are fagots and a bucket of sea-coal in the stone-closet at the head of the stair—and there is a flint and steel on the upper shelf—you can light fire for yourself if you will.”
“No—no—no, Martha,” ejaculated her father, who, having donned his , with his hose all ungirt, and his feet slip-shod, hastily came out of the inner apartment, with his mind probably full of robbers, for he had a naked rapier in his hand, which still looked formidable, though had somewhat its shine.—What he had heard at entrance about a fire, had changed, however, the current of his ideas. “No—no—no,” he cried, and each negative was more than its predecessor-“The gentleman shall not have the trouble to put on a fire—ugh—ugh. I'll put it on myself, for a con-si-de-ra-ti-on.”
This last word was a favourite expression with the old gentleman, which he pronounced in a manner, it out by syllable, and laying a strong emphasis upon the last. It was, indeed, a sort of protecting clause, by which he guarded himself against all inconveniences attendant on the rash habit of offering service or civility of any kind, the which, when hastily snapped at by those to whom they are uttered, give the profferer sometimes room to his promptitude.
“For shame, father,” said Martha, “that must not be. Master Grahame will his own fire, or wait till the char-woman comes to do it for him, just as likes him best.”
“No, child—no, child. Child Martha, no,” reiterated the old —“no char-woman shall ever touch a grate in my house; they put—ugh, ugh—the faggot uppermost, and so the coal not, and the flame goes up the chimney, and wood and heat are both thrown away. Now, I will lay it properly for the gentleman, for a consideration, so that it shall last—ugh, ugh—last the whole day.” Here his increased his cough so violently, that Nigel could only, from a word here and there, comprehend that it was a recommendation to his daughter to remove the and from the stranger's fireside, with an assurance, that, when necessary, his landlord would be in attendance to adjust it himself, “for a consideration.”
Martha paid as little attention to the old man's injunctions as a predominant gives to those of a henpecked husband. She only repeated, in a deeper and more emphatic tone of censure,—“For shame, father—for shame!” then, turning to her guest, said, with her usual ungraciousness of manner—“Master Grahame—it is best to be plain with you at first. My father is an old, a very old man, and his wits, as you may see, are somewhat weakened—though I would not advise you to make a bargain with him, else you may find them too sharp for your own. For myself, I am a woman, and, to say truth, care little to see or with any one. If you can be satisfied with house-room, shelter, and safety, it will be your own fault if you have them not, and they are not always to be found in this unhappy quarter. But, if you seek observance and attendance, I tell you at once you will............