Martin Chuzzlewit
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
MR JONAS AND HIS FRIEND, ARRIVING AT A PLEASANT UNDERSTANDING, SET FORTHUPON AN ENTERPRISE
The office of the Anglo-Bengalee Disinterested Loan and Life AssuranceCompany being near at hand, and Mr Montague driving Jonas straightthere, they had very little way to go. But the journey might have beenone of several hours' duration, without provoking a remark from either;for it was clear that Jonas did not mean to break the silence whichprevailed between them, and that it was not, as yet, his dear friend'scue to tempt them into conversation.
He had thrown aside his cloak, as having now no motive for concealment,and with that garment huddled on his knees, sat as far removed from hiscompanion as the limited space in such a carriage would allow. Therewas a striking difference in his manner, compared with what it had been,within a few minutes, when Tom encountered him so unexpectedly on boardthe packet, or when the ugly change had fallen on him in Mr Montague'sdressing-room. He had the aspect of a man found out and held at bay;of being baffled, hunted, and beset; but there was now a dawning andincreasing purpose in his face, which changed it very much. It wasgloomy, distrustful, lowering; pale with anger and defeat; it still washumbled, abject, cowardly and mean; but, let the conflict go on as itwould, there was one strong purpose wrestling with every emotion of hismind, and casting the whole series down as they arose.
Not prepossessing in appearance at the best of times, it may be readilysupposed that he was not so now. He had left deep marks of his frontteeth in his nether lip; and those tokens of the agitation he had latelyundergone improved his looks as little as the heavy corrugations in hisforehead. But he was self-possessed now; unnaturally self-possessed,indeed, as men quite otherwise than brave are known to be in desperateextremities; and when the carriage stopped, he waited for no invitation,but leapt hardily out, and went upstairs.
The chairman followed him; and closing the board-room door as soon asthey had entered, threw himself upon a sofa. Jonas stood before thewindow, looking down into the street; and leaned against the sash,resting his head upon his arms.
'This is not handsome, Chuzzlewit!' said Montague at length. 'Nothandsome upon my soul!'
'What would you have me do?' he answered, looking round abruptly; 'Whatdo you expect?'
'Confidence, my good fellow. Some confidence!' said Montague in aninjured tone.
'Ecod! You show great confidence in me,' retorted Jonas. 'Don't you?'
'Do I not?' said his companion, raising his head, and looking at him,but he had turned again. 'Do I not? Have I not confided to you the easyschemes I have formed for our advantage; OUR advantage, mind; not minealone; and what is my return? Attempted flight!'
'How do you know that? Who said I meant to fly?'
'Who said? Come, come. A foreign boat, my friend, an early hour, afigure wrapped up for disguise! Who said? If you didn't mean to jiltme, why were you there? If you didn't mean to jilt me, why did you comeback?'
'I came back,' said Jonas, 'to avoid disturbance.'
'You were wise,' rejoined his friend.
Jonas stood quite silent; still looking down into the street, andresting his head upon his arms.
'Now, Chuzzlewit,' said Montague, 'notwithstanding what has passed Iwill be plain with you. Are you attending to me there? I only see yourback.'
'I hear you. Go on!'
'I say that notwithstanding what has passed, I will be plain with you.'
'You said that before. And I have told you once I heard you say it. Goon.'
'You are a little chafed, but I can make allowance for that, and am,fortunately, myself in the very best of tempers. Now, let us see howcircumstances stand. A day or two ago, I mentioned to you, my dearfellow, that I thought I had discovered--'
'Will you hold your tongue?' said Jonas, looking fiercely round, andglancing at the door.
'Well, well!' said Montague. 'Judicious! Quite correct! My discoveriesbeing published, would be like many other men's discoveries in thishonest world; of no further use to me. You see, Chuzzlewit, howingenuous and frank I am in showing you the weakness of my own position!To return. I make, or think I make, a certain discovery which I takean early opportunity of mentioning in your ear, in that spirit ofconfidence which I really hoped did prevail between us, and wasreciprocated by you. Perhaps there is something in it; perhaps there isnothing. I have my knowledge and opinion on the subject. You have yours.We will not discuss the question. But, my good fellow, you have beenweak; what I wish to point out to you is, that you have been weak. I maydesire to turn this little incident to my account (indeed, I do--I'llnot deny it), but my account does not lie in probing it, or using itagainst you.'
'What do you call using it against me?' asked Jonas, who had not yetchanged his attitude.
'Oh!' said Montague, with a laugh. 'We'll not enter into that.'
'Using it to make a beggar of me. Is that the use you mean?'
'No.'
'Ecod,' muttered Jonas, bitterly. 'That's the use in which your accountDOES lie. You speak the truth there.'
'I wish you to venture (it's a very safe venture) a little more withus, certainly, and to keep quiet,' said Montague. 'You promised me youwould; and you must. I say it plainly, Chuzzlewit, you MUST. Reason thematter. If you don't, my secret is worthless to me: and being so, itmay as well become the public property as mine; better, for I shallgain some credit, bringing it to light. I want you, besides, to act as adecoy in a case I have already told you of. You don't mind that, I know.You care nothing for the man (you care nothing for any man; you aretoo sharp; so am I, I hope); and could bear any loss of his withpious fortitude. Ha, ha, ha! You have tried to escape from the firstconsequence. You cannot escape it, I assure you. I have shown you thatto-day. Now, I am not a moral man, you know. I am not the least in theworld affected by anything you may have done; by any little indiscretionyou may have committed; but I wish to profit by it if I can; and to aman of your intelligence I make that free confession. I am not at allsingular in that infirmity. Everybody profits by the indiscretion of hisneighbour; and the people in the best repute, the most. Why do you giveme this trouble? It must come to a friendly agreement, or an unfriendlycrash. It must. If the former, you are very little hurt. If thelatter--well! you know best what is likely to happen then.'
Jonas left the window, and walked up close to him. He did not lookhim in the face; it was not his habit to do that; but he kept his eyestowards him--on his breast, or thereabouts--and was at great painsto speak slowly and distinctly in reply. Just as a man in a state ofconscious drunkenness might be.
'Lying is of no use now,' he said. 'I DID think of getting away thismorning, and making better terms with you from a distance.'
'To be sure! to be sure!' replied Montague. 'Nothing more natural. Iforesaw that, and provided against it. But I am afraid I am interruptingyou.'
'How the devil,' pursued Jonas, with a still greater effort, 'you madechoice of your messenger, and where you found him, I'll not ask you. Iowed him one good turn before to-day. If you are so careless of men ingeneral, as you said you were just now, you are quite indifferent towhat becomes of such a crop-tailed cur as that, and will leave me tosettle my account with him in my own manner.'
If he had raised his eyes to his companion's face, he would have seenthat Montague was evidently unable to comprehend his meaning. Butcontinuing to stand before him, with his furtive gaze directed asbefore, and pausing here only to moisten his dry lips with his tongue,the fact was lost upon him. It might have struck a close observer thatthis fixed and steady glance of Jonas's was a part of the alterationwhich had taken place in his demeanour. He kept it riveted on one spot,with which his thoughts had manifestly nothing to do; like as a jugglerwalking on a cord or wire to any dangerous end, holds some object in hissight to steady him, and never wanders from it, lest he trip.
Montague was quick in his rejoinder, though he made it at a venture.There was no difference of opinion between him and his friend on THATpoint. Not the least.
'Your great discovery,' Jonas proceeded, with a savage sneer thatgot the better of him for the moment, 'may be true, and may be false.Whichever it is, I dare say I'm no worse than other men.'
'Not a bit,' said Tigg. 'Not a bit. We're all alike--or nearly so.'
'I want to know this,' Jonas went on to say; 'is it your own? You'll notwonder at my asking the question.'
'My own!' repeated Montague.
'Aye!' returned the other, gruffly. 'Is it known to anybody else? Come!Don't waver about that.'
'No!' said Montague, without the smallest hesitation. 'What would it beworth, do you think, unless I had the keeping of it?'
Now, for the first time, Jonas looked at him. After a pause, he put outhis hand, and said, with a laugh:
'Come! make things easy to me, and I'm yours. I don't know that I maynot be better off here, after all, than if I had gone away this morning.But here I am, and here I'll stay now. Take your oath!'
He cleared his throat, for he was speaking hoarsely and said in alighter tone:
'Shall I go to Pecksniff? When? Say when!'
'Immediately!' cried Montague. 'He cannot be enticed too soon.'
'Ecod!' cried Jonas, with a wild laugh. 'There's some fun in catchingthat old hypocrite. I hate him. Shall I go to-night?'
'Aye! This,' said Montague, ecstatically, 'is like business! Weunderstand each other now! To-night, my good fellow, by all means.'
'Come with me,' cried Jonas. 'We must make a dash; go down in state, andcarry documents, for he's a deep file to deal with, and must be drawnon with an artful hand, or he'll not follow. I know him. As I can'ttake your lodgings or your dinners down, I must take you. Will you cometo-night?'
His friend appeared to hesitate; and neither to have anticipated thisproposal, nor to relish it very much.
'We can concert our plans upon the road,' said Jonas. 'We must not godirect to him, but cross over from some other place, and turn out of ourway to see him. I may not want to introduce you, but I must have you onthe spot. I know the man, I tell you.'
'But what if the man knows me?' said Montague, shrugging his shoulders.
'He know!' cried Jonas. 'Don't you run that risk with fifty men a day!Would your father know you? Did I know you? Ecod! You were anotherfigure when I saw you first. Ha, ha, ha! I see the rents and patchesnow! No false hair then, no black dye! You were another sort of jokerin those days, you were! You even spoke different then. You've actedthe gentleman so seriously since, that you've taken in yourself. If heshould know you, what does it matter? Such a change is a proof of yoursuccess. You know that, or you would not have made yourself known to me.Will you come?'
'My good fellow,' said Montague, still hesitating, 'I can trust youalone.'
'Trust me! Ecod, you may trust me now, far enough. I'll try to go awayno more--no more!' He stopped, and added in a more sober tone, 'I can'tget on without you. Will you come?'
'I will,' said Montague, 'if that's your opinion.' And they shook handsupon it.
The boisterous manner which Jonas had exhibited during the latter partof this conversation, and which had gone on rapidly increasing withalmost every word he had spoken, from the time when he looked hishonourable friend in the face until now, did not now subside, but,remaining at its height, abided by him. Most unusual with him at anyperiod; most inconsistent with his temper and constitution; especiallyunnatural it would appear in one so darkly circumstanced; it abided byhim. It was not like the effect of wine, or any ardent drink, for he wasperfectly coherent. It even made him proof against the usual influenceof such means of excitement; for, although he drank deeply several timesthat day, with no reserve or caution, he remained exactly the same man,and his spirits neither rose nor fell in the least observable degree.
Deciding, after some discussion, to travel at night, in order that theday's business might not be broken in upon, they took counsel togetherin reference to the means. Mr Montague being of opinion that four horseswere advisable, at all events for the first stage, as throwing a greatdeal of dust into people's eyes, in more senses than one, a travellingchariot and four lay under orders for nine o'clock. Jonas did not gohome; observing, that his being obliged to leave town on business inso great a hurry, would be a good excuse for having turned back sounexpectedly in the morning. So he wrote a note for his portmanteau, andsent it by a messenger, who duly brought his luggage back, with a shortnote from that other piece of luggage, his wife, expressive of her wishto be allowed to come and see him for a moment. To this request he sentfor answer, 'she had better;' and one such threatening affirmative beingsufficient, in defiance of the English grammar, to express a negative,she kept away.
Mr Montague being much engaged in the course of the day, Jonas bestowedhis spirits chiefly on the doctor, with whom he lunched in the medicalofficer's own room. On his way thither, encountering Mr Nadgett in theouter room, he bantered that stealthy gentleman on always appearinganxious to avoid him, and inquired if he were afraid of him. Mr Nadgettslyly answered, 'No, but he believed it must be his way as he had beencharged with much the same kind of thing before.'
Mr Montague was listening to, or, to speak with greater elegance, heoverheard, this dialogue. As soon as Jonas was gone he beckoned Nadgettto him with the feather of his pen, and whispered in his ear.
'Who gave him my letter this morning?'
'My lodger, sir,' said Nadgett, behind the palm of his hand.
'How came that about?'
'I found him on the wharf, sir. Being so much hurried, and you notarrived, it was necessary to do something. It fortunately occurred tome, that if I gave it him myself I could be of no further use. I shouldhave been blown upon immediately.'
'Mr Nadgett, you are a jewel,' said Montague, patting him on the back.'What's your lodger's name?'
'Pinch, sir. Thomas Pinch.'
Montague reflected for a little while, and then asked:
'From the country, do you know?'
'From Wiltshire, sir, he told me.'
They parted without another word. To see Mr Nadgett's bow when Montagueand he next met, and to see Mr Montague acknowledge it, anybody mighthave undertaken to swear that they had never spoken to each otherconfidentially in all their lives.
In the meanwhile, Mr Jonas and the doctor made themselves verycomfortable upstairs, over a bottle of the old Madeira and somesandwiches; for the doctor having been already invited to dine below atsix o'clock, preferred a light repast for lunch. It was advisable, hesaid, in two points of view: First, as being healthy in itself. Secondlyas being the better preparation for dinner.
'And you are bound for all our sakes to take particular care of yourdigestion, Mr Chuzzlewit, my dear sir,' said the doctor smacking hislips after a glass of wine; 'for depend upon it, it is worth preserving.It must be in admirable condition, sir; perfect chronometer-work.Otherwise your spirits could not be so remarkable. Your bosom's lordsits lightly on its throne, Mr Chuzzlewit, as what's-his-name says inthe play. I wish he said it in a play which did anything like commonjustice to our profession, by the bye. There is an apothecary inthat drama, sir, which is a low thing; vulgar, sir; out of naturealtogether.'
Mr Jobling pulled out his shirt-frill of fine linen, as though he wouldhave said, 'This is what I call nature in a medical man, sir;' andlooked at Jonas for an observation.
Jonas not being in a condition to pursue the subject, took up a case oflancets that was lying on the table, and opened it.
'Ah!' said the doctor, leaning back in his chair, 'I always take 'em outof my pocket before I eat. My pockets are rather tight. Ha, ha, ha!'
Jonas had opened one of the shining little instruments; and wasscrutinizing it with a look as sharp and eager as its own bright edge.
'Good steel, doctor. Good steel! Eh!'
'Ye-es,' replied the doctor, with the faltering modesty of ownership.'One might open a vein pretty dexterously with that, Mr Chuzzlewit.'
'It has opened a good many in its time, I suppose?' said Jonas lookingat it with a growing interest.
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'Not a few, my dear sir, not a few. It has been engaged in a--in apretty good practice, I believe I may say,' replied the doctor, coughingas if the matter-of-fact were so very dry and literal that he couldn'thelp it. 'In a pretty good practice,' repeated the doctor, puttinganother glass of wine to his lips.
'Now, could you cut a man's throat with such a thing as this?' demandedJonas.
'Oh certainly, certainly, if you took him in the right place,' returnedthe doctor. 'It all depends upon that.'
'Where you have your hand now, hey?' cried Jonas, bending forward tolook at it.
'Yes,' said the doctor; 'that's the jugular.'
Jonas, in his vivacity, made a sudden sawing in the air, so close behindthe doctor's jugular that he turned quite red. Then Jonas (in the samestrange spirit of vivacity) burst into a loud discordant laugh.
'No, no,' said the doctor, shaking his head; 'edge tools, edge tools;never play with 'em. A very remarkable instance of the skillful use ofedge-tools, by the way, occurs to me at this moment. It was a case ofmurder. I am afraid it was a case of murder, committed by a member ofour profession; it was so artistically done.'
'Aye!' said Jonas. 'How was that?'
'Why, sir,' returned Jobling, 'the thing lies in a nutshell. A certaingentleman was found, one morning, in an obscure street, lying inan angle of a doorway--I should rather say, leaning, in an uprightposition, in the angle of a doorway, and supported consequently by thedoorway. Upon his waistcoat there was one solitary drop of blood. He wasdead and cold; and had been murdered, sir.'
'Only one drop of blood!' said Jonas.
'Sir, that man,' replied the doctor, 'had been stabbed to the heart.Had been stabbed to the heart with such dexterity, sir, that he haddied instantly, and had bled internally. It was supposed that amedical friend of his (to whom suspicion attached) had engaged him inconversation on some pretence; had taken him, very likely, by the buttonin a conversational manner; had examined his ground at leisure withhis other hand; had marked the exact spot; drawn out the instrument,whatever it was, when he was quite prepared; and--'
'And done the trick,' suggested Jonas.
'Exactly so,' replied the doctor. 'It was quite an operation in its way,and very neat. The medical friend never turned up; and, as I tell you,he had the credit of it. Whether he did it or not I can't say.But, having had the honour to be called in with two or three of myprofessional brethren on the occasion, and having assisted to make acareful examination of the wound, I have no hesitation in saying thatit would have reflected credit on any medical man; and that in anunprofessional person it could not but be considered, either as anextraordinary work of art, or the result of a still more extraordinary,happy, and favourable conjunction of circumstances.'
His hearer was so much interested in this case, that the doctor wenton to elucidate it with the assistance of his own finger and thumb andwaistcoat; and at Jonas's request, he took the further trouble of goinginto a corner of the room, and alternately representing the murderedman and the murderer; which he did with great effect. The bottle beingemptied and the story done, Jonas was in precisely the same boisterousand unusual state as when they had sat down. If, as Jobling theorized,his good digestion were the cause, he must have been a very ostrich.
At dinner it was just the same; and after dinner too; though wine wasdrunk in abundance, and various rich meats eaten. At nine o'clock it wasstill the same. There being a lamp in the carriage, he swore they wouldtake a pack of cards, and a bottle of wine; and with these things underhis cloak, went down to the door.
'Out of the way, Tom Thumb, and get to bed!'
This was the salutation he bestowed on Mr Bailey, who, booted andwrapped up, stood at the carriage door to help him in.
'To bed, sir! I'm a-going, too,' said Bailey.
He alighted quickly, and walked back into the hall, where Montague waslighting a cigar; conducting Mr Bailey with him, by the collar.
'You are not a-going to take this monkey of a boy, are you?'
'Yes,' said Montague.
He gave the boy a shake, and threw him roughly aside. There was more ofhis familiar self in the action, than in anything he had done that day;but he broke out laughing immediately afterwards, and making a thrustat the doctor with his hand, in imitation of his representation of themedical friend, went out to the carriage again, and took his seat. Hiscompanion followed immediately. Mr Bailey climbed into the rumble. 'Itwill be a stormy night!' exclaimed the doctor, as they started.