Paul Clifford — Volume 02Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
General
Paul Clifford — Volume 02
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
Brigands and robbers -- Fiction
"I felt melancholy at the ill-success of my scheme. You must allow it was
a magnificent project. What moral courage! I admire myself when I think
of it. Without an introduction, without knowing a soul, to become, all
by my own resolution, free of the finest houses in London, dancing with
earls' daughters, and all but carrying off an earl's daughter myself as
my wife. If I had, the friends must have done something for me; and Lady
Margaret Tomlinson might perhaps have introduced the youthful genius of
her Augustus to parliament or the ministry. Oh, what a fall was there!
Yet, faith, ha, ha, ha! I could not help laughing, despite of my
chagrin, when I remembered that for three months I had imposed on these
'delicate exclusives,' and been literally invited by many of them, who
would not have asked the younger sons of their own cousins, merely
because I lived in a good street, avowed myself an only child, and talked
of my property in Yorkshire! Ha, ha! how bitter the mercenary dupes must
have felt when the discovery was made! What a pill for the good matrons
who had coupled my image with that of some filial Mary or Jane,--ha, ha,
ha! The triumph was almost worth the mortification. However, as I said
before, I fell melancholy on it, especially as my duns became menacing.
So I went to consult with my cousin the bookseller. He recommended me to
compose for the journals, and obtained me an offer. I went to work very
patiently for a short time, and contracted some agreeable friendships
with gentlemen whom I met at an ordinary in St. James's. Still, my duns,
though I paid them by driblets, were the plague of my life. I confessed
as much to one of my new friends. 'Come to Bath with me,' quoth he, 'for
a week, and you shall return as rich as a Jew.' I accepted the offer, and
went to Bath in my friend's chariot. He took the name of Lord
Dunshunner, an Irish peer who had never been out of Tipperary, and was
not therefore likely to be known at Bath. He took also a house for a
year; filled it with wines, books, and a sideboard of plate. As he
talked vaguely of setting up his younger brother to stand for the town at
the next parliament, he bought these goods of the townspeople, in order
to encourage their trade. I managed secretly to transport them to London
and sell them; and as we disposed of them fifty per cent under cost
price, our customers, the pawnbrokers, were not very inquisitive. We
lived a jolly life at Bath for a couple of months, and departed one
night, leaving our housekeeper to answer all interrogatories. We had
taken the precaution to wear disguises, stuffed ourselves out, and
changed the hues of our hair. My noble friend was an adept in these
transformations; and though the police did not sleep on the business,
they never stumbled on us. I am especially glad we were not discovered,
for I liked Bath excessively; and I intend to return there some of these
days, and retire from the world--on an heiress!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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