Arriving in England, Martin witnesses a ceremony, from which he
derives the cheering information that he has not been forgotten in his absence
IT WAS MID-DAY, and high water in the English port for which the Screw was
bound, when, borne in gallantly upon the fulness of the tide, she let go her
anchor in the river.
Bright as the scene was; fresh, and full of motion; airy, free, and
sparkling; it was nothing to the life and exultation in the breasts of the two
travellers, at sight of the old churches, roofs, and darkened chimney stacks of
Home. The distant roar, that swelled up hoarsely from the busy streets, was
music in their ears; the lines of people gazing from the wharves, were friends
held dear; the canopy of smoke that overhung the town was brighter and more
beautiful to them than if the richest silks of Persia had been waving in the
air. And though the water going on its glistening track, turned, ever and again,
aside to dance and sparkle round great ships, and heave them up; and leaped from
off the blades of oars, a shower of diving diamonds; and wantoned with the idle
boats, and swiftly passed, in many a sportive chase, through obdurate old iron
rings, set deep into the stone-work of the quays; not even it was half so
buoyant, and so restless, as their fluttering hearts, when yearning to set foot,
once more, on native ground.
A year had passed, since those same spires and roofs had faded from their
eyes. It seemed, to them, a dozen years. Some trifling changes, here and there,
they called to mind; and wondered that they were so few and slight. In health
and fortune, prospect and resource, they came back poorer men than they had gone
away. But it was home. And though home is a name, a word, it is a strong one;
stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit answered to, in strongest
conjuration.
Being set ashore, with very little money in their pockets, and no definite
plan of operation in their heads, they sought out a cheap tavern, where they
regaled upon a smoking steak, and certain flowing mugs of beer, as only men just
landed from the sea can revel in the generous dainties of the earth. When they
had feasted, as two grateful-tempered giants might have done, they stirred the
fire, drew back the glowing curtain from the window, and making each a sofa for
himself, by union of the great unwieldy chairs, gazed blissfully into the
street.
Even the street was made a fairy street, by being half hidden in an
atmosphere of steak, and strong, stout, stand-up English beer. For on the
window-glass hung such a mist, that Mr. Tapley was obliged to rise and wipe it
with his handkerchief, before the passengers appeared like common mortals. And
even then, a spiral little cloud went curling up from their two glasses of hot
grog, which nearly hid them from each other.
It was one of those unaccountable little rooms which are never seen anywhere
but in a tavern, and are supposed to have got into taverns by reason of the
facilities afforded to the architect for getting drunk while engaged in their
construction. It had more corners in it than the brain of an obstinate man; was
full of mad closets, into which nothing could be put that was not specially
invented and made for that purpose; had mysterious shelvings and bulk-heads, and
indications of staircases in the ceiling; and was elaborately provided with a
bell that rung in the room itself, about two feet from the handle, and had no
connexion whatever with any other part of the establishment. It was a little
below the pavement, and abutted close upon it; so that passengers grated against
the window-panes with their buttons, and scraped it with their baskets; and
fearful boys suddenly coming between a thoughtful guest and the light, derided
him, or put out their tongues as if he were a physician; or made white knobs on
the ends of their noses by flattening the same against the glass, and vanished
awfully, like spectres.
Martin and Mark sat looking at the people as they passed, debating every now
and then what their first step should be.
`We want to see Miss Mary, of course,' said Mark.
`Of course,' said Martin. `But I don't know where she is. Not having had the
heart to write in our distress--you yourself thought silence most advisable--and
consequently, never having heard from her since we left New York the first time,
I don't know where she is, my good fellow.'
`My opinion is, sir,' returned Mark, `that what we've got to do is to travel
straight to the Dragon. There's no need for you to go there, where you're known,
unless you like. You may stop ten mile short of it. I'll go on. Mrs. Lupin will
tell me all the news. Mr. Pinch will give me every information that we want: and
right glad Mr. Pinch will be to do it. My proposal is: To set off walking this
afternoon. To stop when we are tired. To get a lift when we can. To walk when we
can't. To do it at once, and do it cheap.'
`Unless we do it cheap, we shall have some difficulty in doing it at all,'
said Martin, pulling out the bank, and telling it over in his hand.
`The greater reason for losing no time, sir,' replied Mark. `Whereas, when
you've seen the young lady; and know what state of mind the old gentleman's in,
and all about it; then you'll know what to do next.'
`No doubt,' said Martin. `You are quite right.'
They were raising their glasses to their lips, when their hands stopped
midway, and their gaze was arrested by a figure which slowly, very slowly, and
reflectively, passed the window at that moment.
Mr. Pecksniff, Placid, calm, but proud. Honestly proud. Dressed with peculiar
care, smiling with even more than usual blandness, pondering on the beauties of
his art with a mild abstraction from all sordid thoughts, and gently travelling
across the disc, as if he were a figure in a magic lantern.
As Mr. Pecksniff passed, a person coming in the opposite direction stopped to
look after him with great interest and respect, almost with veneration; and the
landlord bouncing out of the house, as if he had seen him too, joined this
person, and spoke to him, and shook his head gravely, and looked after Mr.
Pecksniff likewise.
Martin and Mark sat staring at each other, as if they could not believe it;
but there stood the landlord, and the other man still. In spite of the
indignation with which this glimpse of Mr. Pecksniff had inspired him, Martin
could not help laughing heartily. Neither could Mark.
`We must inquire into this!' said Martin. `Ask the landlord in, Mark.'
Mr. Tapley retired for that purpose, and immediately returned with their
large-headed host in safe convoy.
`Pray, landlord!' said Martin, `who is that gentleman who passed just now,
and whom you were looking after?'
The landlord poked the fire as if, in his desire to make the most of his
answer, he had become indifferent even to the price of coals; and putting his
hands in his pockets, said, after inflating himself to give still further effect
to his reply:
`That, gentlemen, is the great Mr. Pecksniff! The celebrated architect,
gentlemen!'
He looked from one to the other while he said it, as if he were ready to
assist the first man who might be overcome by the intelligence.
`The great Mr. Pecksniff, the celebrated architect, gentlemen.' said the
landlord, `has come down here, to help to lay the first stone of a new and
splendid public building.'
`Is it to be built from his designs?' asked Martin.
`The great Mr. Pecksniff, the celebrated architect, gentlemen,' returned the
landlord, who seemed to have an unspeakable delight in the repetition of these
words, `carried off the First Premium, and will erect the building.'
`Who lays the stone?' asked Martin.
`Our member has come down express,' returned the landlord. `No scrubs would
do for no such a purpose. Nothing less would satisfy our Directors than our
member in the House of Commons, who is returned upon the Gentlemanly Interest.'
`Which interest is that?' asked Martin.
`What, don't you know!' returned the landlord.
It was quite clear the landlord didn't. They always told him at election
time, that it was the Gentlemanly side, and he immediately put on his top-boots,
and voted for it.
`When does the ceremony take place?' asked Martin.
`This day,' replied the landlord. Then pulling out his watch, he added,
impressively, `almost this minute.'
Martin hastily inquired whether there was any possibility of getting in to
witness it; and finding that there would be no objection to the admittance of
any decent person, unless indeed the ground were full, hurried off with Mark, as
hard as they could go.
They were fortunate enough to squeeze themselves into a famous corner on the
ground, where they could see all that passed, without much dread of being beheld
by Mr. Pecksniff in return. They were not a minute too soon, for as they were in
the act of congratulating each other, a great noise was heard at some distance,
and everybody looked towards the gate. Several ladies prepared their pocket
handkerchiefs for waving; and a stray teacher belonging to the charity school
being much cheered by mistake, was immensely groaned at when detected.
`Perhaps he has Tom Pinch with him,' Martin whispered Mr. Tapley.
`It would be rather too much of a treat for him, wouldn't it, sir?' whispered
Mr. Tapley in return.
There was no time to discuss the probabilities either way, for the charity
school, in clean linen, came filing in two and two, so much to the self-approval
of all the people present who didn't subscribe to it that many of them shed
tears. A band of music followed, led by a conscientious drummer who never left
off. Then came a great many gentlemen with wands in their hands, and bows on
their breasts, whose share in the proceedings did not appear to be distinctly
laid down, and who trod upon each other, and blocked up the entry for a
considerable period. These were followed by the Mayor and Corporation, all
clustering round the member for the Gentlemanly Interest; who had the great Mr.
Pecksniff, the celebrated architect on his right hand, and conversed with him
familiarly as they came along. Then the ladies waved their handkerchiefs, and
the gentlemen their hats, and the charity children shrieked, and the member for
the Gentlemanly Interest bowed.
Silence being restored, the member for the Gentlemanly Interest rubbed his
hands, and wagged his head, and looked about him pleasantly; and there was
nothing this member did, at which some lady or other did not burst into an
ecstatic waving of her pocket handkerchief. When he looked up at the stone, they
said how graceful! when he peeped into the hole, they said how condescending!
when he chatted with the Mayor, they said how easy! when he folded his arms they
cried with one accord, how statesman-like!
Mr. Pecksniff was observed too; closely. When he talked to the Mayor, they
said, Oh, really, what a courtly man he was! When he laid his hand upon the
mason's shoulder, giving him directions, how pleasant his demeanour to the
working classes. just the sort of man who made their toil a pleasure to them,
poor dear souls!
But now a silver trowel was brought; and when the member for the Gentlemanly
Interest, tucking up his coat-sleeve, did a little sleight-of-hand with the
mortar, the air was rent, so loud was the applause. The workman-like manner in
which he did it was amazing. No one could conceive where such a gentlemanly
creature could have picked the knowledge up.
When he had made a kind of dirt-pie under the direction of the mason, they
brought a little vase containing coins, the which the member for the Gentlemanly
Interest jingled, as if he were going to conjure. Whereat they said how droll,
how cheerful, what a flow of spirits! This put into its place, an ancient
scholar read the inscription, which was in Latin: not in English: that would
never do. It gave great satisfaction; especially every time there was a good
long substantive in the third declension, ablative case, with an adjective to
match; at which periods the assembly became very tender, and were much affected.
And now the stone was lowered down into its place, amidst the shouting of the
concourse. When it was firmly fixed, the member for the Gentlemanly Interest
struck upon it thrice with the handle of the trowel, as if inquiring, with a
touch of humour, whether anybody was at home. Mr. Pecksniff then unrolled his
Plans (prodigious plans they were), and people gathered round to look at and
admire them.
Martin, who had been fretting himself--quite unnecessarily, as Mark
thought--during the whole of these proceedings, could no longer restrain his
impatience; but stepping forward among several others, looked straight over the
shoulder of the unconscious Mr. Pecksniff, at the designs and plans he had
unrolled. He returned to Mark, boiling with rage.
`Why, what's the matter, sir?' cried Mark.
`Matter! This is my building.'
`Your building, sir!' said Mark.
`My grammar-school. I invented it. I did it all. He has only put four windows
in, the villain, and spoilt it!'
Mark could hardly believe it at first, but being assured that it was really
so, actually held him to prevent his interference foolishly, until his temporary
heat was past. In the meantime, the member addressed the company on the
gratifying deed which he had just performed.
He said that since he had sat in Parliament to represent the Gentlemanly
Interest of that town; and he might add, the Lady Interest he hoped, besides
(pocket handkerchiefs); it had been his pleasant duty to come among them, and to
raise his voice on their behalf in Another Place (pocket handkerchiefs and
laughter), often. But he had never come among them, and had never raised his
voice, with half such pure, such deep, such unalloyed delight, as now. `The
present occasion,' he said, `will ever be memorable to me: not only for the
reasons I have assigned, but because it has afforded me an opportunity of
becoming personally known to a gentleman--'
Here he pointed the trowel at Mr. Pecksniff, who was greeted with vociferous
cheering, and laid his hand upon his heart.
`To a gentleman who, I am happy to believe, will reap both distinction and
profit from this field: whose fame had previously penetrated to me--as to whose
ears has it not!--but whose intellectual countenance I never had the
distinguished honour to behold until this day, and whose intellectual
conversation I had never before the improving pleasure to enjoy.'
Everybody seemed very glad of this, and applauded more than ever.
`But I hope my Honourable Friend,' said the Gentlemanly member--of course he
added "if he will allow me to call him so," and of course Mr. Pecksniff
bowed--`will give me many opportunities of cultivating the knowledge of him; and
that I may have the extraordinary gratification of reflecting in after time that
I laid on this day two first stones, both belonging to structures which shall
last my life!'
Great cheering again. All this time, Martin was cursing Mr. Pecksniff up hill
and down dale.
`My friends!' said Mr. Pecksniff, in reply. `My duty is to build, not speak,
to act, not talk, to deal with marble, stone, and brick: not language. I am very
much affected. God bless you!'
This address, pumped out apparently from Mr. Pecksniff's very heart, brought
the enthusiasm to its highest pitch. The pocket handkerchiefs were waved again;
the charity children were admonished to grow up Pecksniffs, every boy among
them; the Corporation, gentlemen with wands, member for the Gentlemanly
Interest, all cheered for Mr. Pecksniff. Three cheers for Mr. Pecksniff! Three
more for Mr. Pecksniff! Three more for Mr. Pecksniff, gentlemen, if you please!
One more, gentlemen, for Mr. Pecksniff, and let it be a good one to finish with!
In short, Mr. Pecksniff was supposed to have done a great work and was very
kindly, courteously, and generously rewarded. When the procession moved away,
and Martin and Mark were left almost alone upon the ground, his merits and a
desire to acknowledge them formed the common topic. He was only second to the
Gentlemanly member.
`Compare the fellow's situation to-day with ours!' said Martin bitterly.
`Lord bless you, sir!' cried Mark, `what's the use? Some architects are
clever at making foundations, and some architects are clever at building on 'em
when they're made. But it'll all come right in the end, sir; it'll all come
right!'
`And in the meantime--' began Martin.
`In the meantime, as you say, sir, we have a deal to do, and far to go. So
sharp's the word, and Jolly!'
`You are the best master in the world, Mark,' said Martin, `and I will not be
a bad scholar if I can help it, I am resolved! So come! Best foot foremost, old
fellow!'
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