Pelham — Volume 07Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
History
Pelham — Volume 07
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
Adventure stories; English fiction -- 19th century; Great Britain -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction
A slight change came over Jonson's countenance: he hesitated. "Excuse me,
Sir," said he; "but I am, really, perfectly unacquainted with you, and I
may be falling into some trap of the law, of which, Heaven knows, I am as
ignorant as a babe unborn."
I saw the knavish justice of this remark; and in my predominating zeal to
serve Glanville, I looked upon the inconvenience of discovering myself to
a pickpocket and sharper, as a consideration not worth attending to. In
order, therefore, to remove his doubts, and, at the same time, to have a
more secret and undisturbed place for our conference, I proposed to him
to accompany me home; at first, Mr. Jonson demurred, but I soon half
persuaded and half intimidated him into compliance.
Not particularly liking to be publicly seen with a person of his splendid
description and celebrated character, I made him walk before me to
Mivart's, and I followed him closely, never turning my eye, either to the
right or the left, lest he should endeavour to escape me. There was no
fear of this, for Mr. Jonson was both a bold and a crafty man, and it
required, perhaps, but little of his penetration to discover that I was
no officer nor informer, and that my communication had been of a nature
likely enough to terminate in his advantage; there was, therefore, but
little need of his courage in accompanying me to my hotel.
There were a good many foreigners of rank at Mivart's, and the waiters
took my companion for an ambassador at least:--he received their homage
with the mingled dignity and condescension natural to so great a man.
As the day was now far advanced, I deemed it but hospitable to offer Mr.
Job Jonson some edible refreshment. With the frankness on which he so
justly valued himself, he accepted my proposal. I ordered some cold meat,
and two bottles of wine; and, mindful of old maxims, deferred my business
till his repast was over. I conversed with him merely upon ordinary
topics, and, at another time, should have been much amused by the
singular mixture of impudence and shrewdness which formed the stratum of
his character.
At length his appetite was satisfied, and one of the bottles emptied;
with the other before him, his body easily reclining on my library chair,
his eyes apparently cast downwards, but ever and anon glancing up at my
countenance with a searching and curious look, Mr. Job Jonson prepared
himself for our conference; accordingly I began.
"You say that you are acquainted with Mr. Dawson; where is he at
present?"
"I don't know," answered Jonson, laconically.
"Come," said I, "no trifling--if you do not know, you can learn."
"Possibly I can, in the course of time," rejoined honest Job.
"If you cannot tell me his residence at once," said I, "our conference is
at an end; that is a leading feature in my inquiries."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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