CHAPTER LXXXVI.

CONCLUSION OF THE HISTORY OF A LIVERY-SERVANT.

"I am now going to take a leap of about six months in my story; because, during that time, nothing of any importance occurred in the establishment of the Honourable Mr. Ilverton. I may, however, observe that my suspicion relative to the unhappiness of his wife was confirmed the more I saw of her; for she was often dull and melancholy—and once or twice I saw that she had been shedding tears. Her husband was very kind and attentive to her; but he was a great deal from home, as he had large estates in the country which he was frequently obliged to visit, and he was also canvassing a borough for the approaching elections. Her ladyship preferred remaining in town, because she could then enjoy the society of her mother and sisters, who were almost constantly with her. Well, as I just now said, six months had passed away without any adventure of importance, and I was already wearied of the sameness of the life I was leading, when something occurred which tended to excite my curiosity and interest. It was about four o'clock, one summer afternoon that the little incident took place; and this was it. A letter came, addressed to her ladyship; and the hall-porter gave it to me to take up into the drawing-room. I went up stairs, and my hand was on the drawing-room door, when sounds of sobbing and low whispering, coming from inside, met my ears. I stopped and listened. 'My God! you know that I love you, Herbert,' said the voice of Lady Hortensia, who no longer spoke in a whisper.—Then another voice made some reply which I could not catch; and several minutes passed in a whispered conversation, not one single word of which did I overhear. At last I could judge that the visitor was about to take his leave; and I entered the room, first making as much noise as I could with the handle of the door so as to warn those inside that some one was coming in. But a single glance was enough to show me that Lady Hortensia was in great confusion, while a tall, handsome, young gentleman who was with her turned aside and walked towards the window. They were both standing when I went in; but her ladyship seated herself the moment after I entered and passed her handkerchief rapidly over her charming face. I endeavoured to appear as if I saw nothing to excite my curiosity, handed my mistress the letter, and retired. I waited in the hall to catch another glimpse of the gentleman when he went out; and in a few minutes he took his departure. I asked the hall-porter who he was. 'I never saw him before,' was the answer; 'but I heard him desire the footman to announce him by the name of Mr. Herbert Remington.'—'Well,' thought I to myself, 'Mr. Herbert Remington is a very fortunate man to be loved by such a beautiful lady.' But I did not breathe to a soul what I had overheard, nor any thing that I knew concerning my mistress.

"Mr. Ilverton was in the country at this time; and I now observed that Mr. Remington called regularly every day at about four o'clock. The other servants did not appear to notice it as at all extraordinary; but I had my own reasons for thinking a good deal on the subject. Several times, on the occasion of these visits, did I creep to the drawing-room door, and listen; and much of their conversation did I thus overhear. From that I gleaned that Mr. Remington and Lady Hortensia had been attached to each other for a long time; but that their marriage had been rendered impossible by his poverty. I also learnt enough to convince me that he was the father of a child of which she had been delivered at the doctor's house, but which had died a few hours after its birth. I felt no small degree of importance in knowing myself to be acquainted with all their secrets; and I considered myself not only bound to keep those secrets to myself, but also to assist them in any way I could, if an opportunity served to render my humble aid available. And the time to put me to that test soon came. Mr. Ilverton returned home from the country much sooner than was expected; and the servants, when talking together in the kitchen, said that he had come back in a very queer humour. He was, however, more amiable than ever with her ladyship at dinner on the day of his return; and I saw nothing to prove the truth of what I had heard down stairs. Lady Hortensia retired early that evening, saying she was unwell; and her maid observed on returning to the servants' hall, after attending on her mistress in her bed-chamber, that her ladyship appeared very unhappy. Then for the first time did the servants speak of the constant visits of Mr. Remington; and as they talked on the subject, suspicions seemed to spring up in their minds. But the entrance of the housekeeper put an end to the gossip; and soon afterwards the drawing-room bell rang. I hastened up to answer the summons, and found Mr. Ilverton walking up and down the apartment in so excited a manner that he did not even notice my entrance. At length he perceived me; and, throwing himself in a chair, beckoned me towards him. 'John,' said he, laying his hand on my shoulder, and speaking in a strange tone of voice, 'I think you will tell me the truth, if I ask you a few questions,'—I said that I would.—'And will you keep to yourself whatever I am going to say to you?' he asked.—'I will, sir, certainly,' was my answer.—'I thought you were a good and discreet lad,' he continued, putting a couple of sovereigns into my hand: 'act as you ought towards me, and you shall never want a friend. Now, tell me, my boy, whether a gentleman named Remington has called here every day during my absence this last time?'—'Not every day, sir, I should think,' was my reply; for I saw that a storm was brewing, and felt determined to screen my mistress as much as possible.—'Yes, but he has though,' returned Mr. Ilverton sharply; 'you may not, however, have observed it,' he added immediately afterwards, in a milder tone: 'now answer me truly my next question; and don't be afraid that I shall be angry, or shall say any thing about it if you reply in the affirmative. Do the servants talk amongst themselves of Mr. Remington's visits?'—'I have never heard a word said on the subject, sir,' was my answer.—'Then I am not laughed at in that quarter!' he muttered to himself; but I heard his words plain enough, although he seemed to forget that he had spoken them a minute after they had left his lips. 'John,' he continued, his fingers actually griping my shoulder, 'you can do me a great service if you will; and I will reward you handsomely.'—'It is my duty to do all I can for you, sir,' I replied.—'Yes,' he said; 'but what I now require is something out of the way of your ordinary duties, and is rather the part of a friend, than a servant towards a master.'—'I will do any thing I can, sir, to oblige you,' I exclaimed.—'And you will swear solemnly not to breathe to a soul a word of all that now takes place between us, or that you may have to do for me, unless I call upon you to proclaim any thing in a court of justice.'—'I will obey you in all things, sir,' I replied.—'You are a good lad,' he said; 'and I am not mistaken in you. To tell you the truth,' he continued, 'I have received an anonymous letter, creating the most painful suspicions in my mind. This letter assures me that a gentleman whom I do not know, and whose name is Remington, is a too frequent visitor at this house. But before I act, I must be satisfied that his visits are injurious to my honour. Do you understand me, my boy? You see, I am obliged to be open and candid with you, as I require an important service at your hands.'—'I understand you perfectly, sir.'—'What, then, do I mean?'—'Why, sir, that my lady should not receive that gentleman's visits so often, and while you are away,' I answered, pretending first to reflect for a few moments.—'Exactly so!' he cried. 'And now I will explain what I require of you. To-morrow at about half-past three o'clock,' he continued, 'I will give you a letter addressed to some friend of mine at a little distance; and you must tell the butler you are going to take it, and that you shall be upwards of an hour away. By these means you will not be missed by the servants. But, instead of leaving the house, you must steal up to the drawing-room, and conceal yourself under the sofa. There must you lie as quiet as possible, and listen to all that may take place between Lady Hortensia and Mr. Remington, who, not knowing of my return, will be sure to call at his wonted hour.'—'But suppose, sir,' I said, 'that I should be discovered?'—'Then leave it to me to extricate you from the difficulty, which is not likely to arise,' answered Mr. Ilverton.—'But,' I again argued, 'if her ladyship should happen to come down earlier to the drawing-room than usual, how shall I be able to conceal myself beneath the sofa?'—'Should this occur, I will devise some means to induce Lady Hortensia to quit the room for at least a few minutes, at about half-past three. Be you on the watch.'—'I will sir,' was my answer.—'And if you serve me faithfully, John,' he added, 'you will find a friend in me; but if you disobey me in one single point, I will find means to punish you somehow or another.'—I, of course, made all the necessary promises; and he dismissed me, apparently well satisfied with my assurances of fidelity.

"I slept but little all that night. I saw that a dreadful storm hung over the head of my mistress; and I lay awake, planning a thousand schemes to avert it. It was very easy for me to hide myself under the sofa; and, whatever I might overhear, afterwards assure my master that not a word had been said which he could possibly be angry at. But I was experienced and cunning enough to fear that Mr. Ilverton wanted a witness; and that though I might be listening under the sofa, he would also be listening at the door, and would burst into the room in case his suspicions respecting his wife should receive confirmation. Even if he should not adopt this plan, but merely use me as a means of ascertaining whether his wife was faithful or not, and take my word respecting the particulars of the anticipated interview between herself and Mr. Remington,—nevertheless, I saw the necessity of warning my mistress that such suspicions did exist concerning her, and put her fully upon her guard. This I resolved to do; and at last I made up my mind to speak frankly to her next day. But when that day came, I saw no chance of having an opportunity of carrying my intention into effect;—for her ladyship did not come down stairs to breakfast nor to luncheon, she being still indisposed, as I heard from her own maid. I loitered upon the landing near the drawing-room as much as I dared; and once or twice, when my master went up or down stairs, he nodded approvingly of my conduct, thinking that I was there only to serve his interests. At last, just as the clock had struck three, to my joy I saw Lady Hortensia descend from her own chamber, and enter the drawing-room. Not a moment was to be lost. I rushed in after her, closed the door, and said, 'My lady, listen to me for one instant, I implore of you.' She looked at me with mingled surprise and anger; for my manner must have appeared not only strange, but also boisterously rude. I am sure I do not recollect now—for I did not remember ten minutes after this scene occurred—what words I used, or how I introduced the subject; but it is very certain that I told her how I was the very lad who had seen her at the doctor's; how her husband had bribed me to watch her; how I was determined to warn her of the plot in progress against her; and how I would do any thing in the world I could to serve her. She seemed perfectly astounded at all I told her: she sank on the sofa, turned red and white a dozen times in a minute, and then burst into tears. I dared not say a word: the idea of a poor servant like me venturing to console a great lady like her was ridiculous. But I was in a dreadful state of alarm lest Mr. Ilverton should come in.—'John,' she said at last, wiping away her tears, 'if all you have told me is true, you are one of the best lads that ever lived. But how am I to know that this is as you represent it?'—I understood what she meant: she feared lest it was only a trap to ensnare her into something amounting to a confession.—'My lady,' I answered, 'if I wished to injure you, could I not have at once revealed to Mr. Ilverton all that took place at the doctor's house in Brook Street?'—'True!' she said, blushing scarlet. 'Yes—you are faithful!' and she put her purse into my hand. I returned it to her, declining to take any reward; but she forced it upon me, and I was compelled to accept it. 'Now retire,' she said hastily; 'and follow your master's bidding in respect to concealing yourself. I shall afford you an opportunity,' she added: then, turning away, she again burst into tears.

"I hastened from the room, well pleased with the success of my interview with her ladyship, and feeling myself so important a person that I scarcely knew whether I stood on my head or my heels. The secrets of the family were in my keeping,—in the keeping of a boy not sixteen years old; and it was enough to make me proud. Besides, I felt so satisfied with my conduct in respect to her ladyship, that it seemed to me as if I had done a great and a glorious deed. Well, on quitting the drawing-room, I went up to my own chamber, to compose my feelings; for I was really so much elated as to be quite unfit to meet my master for a few minutes. But at the expiration of that time I hastened down stairs, received the letter which he had in readiness for me, and, after looking in at the servants' hall for a moment, just to say I was going out on an errand, stole up to the drawing-room, where I found no one. I therefore thrust myself under the sofa, and awaited anxiously the termination of the adventure. Just as the time-piece on the mantel struck four, her ladyship returned to the room; and almost immediately afterwards Mr. Remington was announced. Hasty whispers were exchanged between them in a language—most likely French—which I did not understand; and then they seated themselves on chairs at some distance from each other, Lady Hortensia having previously rung the bell. I was surprised at this proceeding: what could she possibly mean? But I was more astonished still, when, on the entrance of one of the footmen, she said, 'Ask your master if he will have the kindness to favour me with his company for a few minutes.' The servant retired to execute this command; and I was now frightened lest her ladyship intended to accuse her husband of his stratagem, and thereby expose my want of faith towards him. But second thoughts convinced me that this was not the case; because her ladyship must remember that it was in my power to ruin her effectually if she meditated any treachery towards me. A few minutes elapsed, during which Mr. Remington and my mistress conversed on the most common-place subjects—such as the weather, the new opera, and so on; and at length Mr. Ilverton entered the room. 'I am sorry to disturb you, my dear,' said Lady Hortensia, speaking in her most amiable manner, 'since I know that you are so fully engaged with election matters and other important business; but I have a favour to ask of you. This gentleman is Mr. Remington. Mr. Remington,' she added, 'Mr. Ilverton:' thus calmly and quietly introducing them.—I do not know how my master looked, but I could fancy that he felt very queer: at all events, he said nothing.—'Mr. Remington, my dear,' continued Lady Hortensia, speaking with a tranquil affability that quite astonished me, 'is a gentleman to whom our family are under the greatest obligations; for it was he who saved my brother Edward's life at Oxford a few years ago.'—'I remember to have heard that your brother Edward had a narrow escape from being drowned in the river on a boating excursion,' said Mr. Ilverton; 'but I was not until now acquainted with even the name of the gentleman who so generously risked his life to save him.'—'It was a deed which scarcely deserves such warm praise, sir,' observed Mr. Remington.—'On the contrary, Mr. Remington,' exclaimed Lady Hortensia, 'Mr. Ilverton must, as my husband, experience the same gratitude which I feel towards you, and ever shall, for your noble conduct.'—'Certainly, most decidedly,' exclaimed my master, who, I could very well suppose, was now feeling particularly sheepish.—'And I am convinced, my dear,' continued her ladyship, addressing herself altogether to her husband now, 'that you will approve of certain steps which I have taken in order to convince Mr. Remington of the gratitude of the near relatives of him whom he saved from a premature death. Mr. Remington has a sister who has been left a widow, and who is anxious to turn her accomplishments to a good account. She is desirous of entering some family as a governess; and I have supplied Mr. Remington with letters of introduction on behalf of his sister to several of our friends and acquaintances. He has this day called to inform me of his sister's success in obtaining the situation she requires, by means of one of those letters.'—Mr. Ilverton expressed his entire approval of this proceeding on the part of her ladyship; and Mr. Remington rose, and took his leave in that formal manner which seemed to show that he did not even pretend to be considered in any other light than a mere acquaintance.

"When he was gone, Lady Hortensia said, 'I am really glad that I have been able to serve that young man's sister, for they are both very poor, it seems and the service which he rendered our family in saving the life of my brother was not one that should have gone unrewarded.'—'Oh! decidedly not, my love,' said Mr. Ilverton. 'But will you accompany me to the library now, and see the new picture that I bought some weeks ago, and which has been sent home this morning? It was kept to be framed.'—'Certainly,' answered Lady Hortensia; and she quitted the room with her husband. I of course understood that he had purposely enticed her away to allow me an opportunity of leaving my hiding-place; and I was very glad to get from under the sofa, where I was most terribly cramped, not having dared to move, and scarcely able to breathe free through fear of being heard. I was highly delighted at the clever manner in which Lady Hortensia had got herself out of the serious scrape that for a time seemed to threaten her with total ruin; and I was heartily glad to think that her husband must be thoroughly ashamed of having exposed himself so completely to me. At dinner-time Lady Hortensia gave me a glance which seemed to thank me again for the part I had acted towards her; whereas Mr. Ilverton never once looked me in the face—not even when I was close by his side and he ordered me to serve him with any thing. Shortly after dinner her ladyship retired to the drawing-room; and the moment I was alone with my master, he beckoned me to approach him, and said in a low tone, 'John, what took place between your mistress and that gentleman before I came in?'—'Mr. Remington said he came to thank her ladyship for her kindness towards his sister,' I answered, taking my cue from what I had heard before; 'and then her ladyship said that you was at home, sir, and she would introduce Mr. Remington to you.'—'Then I have been altogether misled, John,' he observed: 'and mind that you never breathe a syllable of what has passed to a living soul.'—'Certainly not, sir,' I replied. He put a couple of sovereigns into my hand, telling me I was a good boy, and repeating his injunction of strict secresy.

"I was now a very great favourite with both my master and mistress, though, in each other's presence, they neither showed any particular kindness towards me. Mr. Remington came no more to the house; but her ladyship now and then gave me letters to put privately into the post for her, and which were addressed to him. Thus three months more passed away; and the general election came on. Mr. Ilverton went out of town; and he had not left the house an hour, before Lady Hortensia gave me a note to convey by hand to Mr. Remington's lodgings in Sackville Street, with directions to wait for an answer. Mr. Remington seemed greatly delighted at the contents of the note, and gave me the reply, which, in his hurry and joy, he omitted to seal, although he had lighted a taper on purpose. I hastened away, and went into a public-house to read the letter. To my surprise I found, by its contents, that an appointment had been made for the lover to pass the night with Lady Hortensia, she having already admitted her maid into her confidence, thereby arranging for his admission into the house at twelve o'clock. I was now dreadfully annoyed at being no longer treated as a confidant, I who had done so much to protect them from exposure! My interest in behalf of my mistress suddenly turned to hate; and I thought seriously of revenging what I considered to be a slight. I however ran back to Mr. Remington's lodgings, and said to him, 'Sir, you have not sealed this letter; and I would rather not take it like this to her ladyship, for fear she should think I had read it, which I would not do for all the world.'—He looked very hard at me, and seemed dreadfully confused at his oversight; but, perceiving that I did not change colour, and that I met his gaze steadily, he was more satisfied. Having sealed the letter, he returned it to me, putting half-a-guinea into my hand; and I then hastened away with it to my mistress, from whom I received double that sum. But a wonderful change had come over my mind. I saw that I was made a mere tool of; whereas so long as I thought myself important as a confidant, I was happy. I had moreover hoarded near twenty pounds, by means of the presents I had received; and I thought how foolish I was not to turn my knowledge of certain secrets to account, and extort a good round sum from her ladyship. In a moment I grew avaricious and spiteful. I know how it was: while my vanity was flattered, I was contented; but the instant I saw that I was a tool, and not a confidant, I was mortified, and therefore changed. It did not strike me then that delicacy would of course prevent Lady Hortensia from making use of me to give admittance to her lover; and I looked on myself as a person badly used. I did nothing that day; but I lay awake during the best part of the night settling in my mind how I should proceed. Thus, while the lovers were in each other's arms—as I had no doubt they were—a storm was brewing against them in a quarter from which they little expected it.

"The very next day I went into the drawing-room when I knew that her ladyship was there alone, and, shutting the door, advanced in a resolute manner towards her. She seemed astonished, and asked me what I wanted. 'A hundred pounds,' I answered in a dogged style.—'Do you mean to request that sum as a favour, or to demand it as the price of the secrets you have promised to keep faithfully?' she said in a mild and reproachful way, which made me more than half repent of my conduct; but I had gone too far to retreat.—'Whichever your ladyship likes,' I replied.—'I will give you _two_ hundred if you will leave the house this minute, and let me make what excuse I choose for sending you away,' she said.—The offer was too tempting to be rejected; and I immediately accepted it. Two hundred pounds! it was a fortune, and I fancied that I should never be able to spend it.—'Pack up your boxes, and prepare to depart,' said Lady Hortensia, 'If the servants ask you any questions, steadily refuse to answer them, beyond merely stating that I have ordered you to leave immediately; and if you will call on Mr. Remington this evening at eight o'clock, he will give you two hundred pounds in gold.'—I was overjoyed at this arrangement, and gladly took my departure on such terms, caring little what reason her ladyship might allege for the abruptness with which I left. Two hundred pounds to be received in a few hours! Oh! how happy I was!—and what castles did I build in the air! I removed my trunk to a public-house in St. Martin's Lane; and having had a pint of wine to celebrate the occasion, strolled out to purchase new clothes—for I had of course left my livery at Mr. Ilverton's house, and was not overwell dressed. Having bought all I required, thereby making a considerable hole into the twenty-five pounds which, with my hoardings and wages, I had in my pocket when I came away, I returned to the public-house, and put on my new things. I then went out again to while away an hour till eight o'clock, it being now seven. As I was going along Piccadilly, I saw an elegantly dressed lady step out of a carriage at a shop-door; and to my joy I recognised Miss Stacey. She immediately knew me; and, seeing me so well attired, did not hesitate to stop and speak to me. We conversed together for a few minutes, during which I told her that I was no longer under the necessity of working for my living, as fortune had been kind to me. She expressed her pleasure, gave me her address, and asked me to call upon her; telling me, however, that I must be sure to come between two and seven, and at no other time. I promised to visit her; for she looked sweetly pretty and very amorous;—and we parted.

"Precisely as the clock struck eight, I knocked at Mr. Remington's door,—none of your sneaking single knocks; but a good loud double one—for I felt all the importance of a man who has two hundred pounds to receive. Mr. Remington was at home, and I was shown up into his room. He desired me to be seated; but in a very cold tone and with a haughty manner. I did not however care one fig for that: the idea of the two hundred pounds rendered me as independent as possible. When I sate down, Mr. Remington rose from his chair; and, advancing close up to me, he said in a low, savage tone, 'You are a contemptible villian!'—'I did not come here to be abused,' I exclaimed insolently: 'give me my money, and let me be off.'—'Your money, indeed!' he cried: 'not one farthing will you receive of me, or of Lady Hortensia Ilverton. Now, listen, young man, and be cautions how you act. Had you conducted yourself fairly, you would always have found friends in me and her ladyship; but you have shown yourself a villain, and we are determined to crush you at once. You think you have us in your power; but you are mistaken. Her ladyship has already stated to her entire household that you were discharged suddenly for an atrocious attempt to extort money from her: and say but one word of scandal, utter one syllable against her, and you will be handed over to justice. Begone, sir; and take care how you conduct yourself. One word, by the way, before you leave me—and that is a word of friendly warning. The hall-porter in St. James's Square has instructions to give you over to the care of a constable, if you present yourself again at that mansion.'—'You cannot bully me,' I exclaimed; 'I know too much! Every thing shall now be made known to Mr. Ilverton.'—'And he will not believe a word you utter,' answered Remington. 'This night's post bears to him a letter in which Lady Hortensia declares that you threatened to expose both him and her if she did not give you a sum of money; and that you dared to assert that her husband had bribed you to conceal yourself under a sofa. _She_ of course pretends to think her husband incapable of such mean and cowardly conduct; and he will be sure to deny it; at the same time he will never forgive nor believe you.'—'But there is the affair at the doctor's house in Brook Street,' I cried.—'The doctor will deny that such a lady was ever there,' returned Mr. Remington, with a triumphant smile.—'And the maid who knows that you passed an entire night with her mistress?' I said, my courage sinking rapidly.—'You had better ask her what she knows of the business! Now, mark me, young man; every precaution is taken to put you to confusion. You are forestalled in every possible way. Say what you will, positive contradictions and denials will meet your assertions; and the result will be to you transportation for life, for attempting to extort money! Now, then, reflect well before you plunge yourself headlong into difficulties.'—'But I am thoroughly ruined!' I exclaimed, tears starting into my eyes, as I saw the truth of all he said. 'I have lost my place and my character!'—'It is your own fault,' replied Mr. Remington. 'At the same time,' he added, after a few moments consideration, 'I do not wish you to be crushed completely down to the very mire. I will give you one chance. Sign a paper, stating that all your accusations are so many falsehoods, and that you make this acknowledgment to save yourself from being handed over to justice; and I will then present you with fifty guineas.'—Thus speaking, he took out a handful of notes and gold, to tempt me to conclude the bargain.—'But every thing I can state is true!' I exclaimed.—'Never mind _that_,' he answered: '_we_ can prove it to be all false. So, haste and decide: my time is precious.'—What could I do? I wanted money, and I saw that he was determined to resist all attempts at positive extortion. I therefore expressed my readiness to sign the paper, which was already drawn up; and, having done so, I received the fifty guineas promised.—'Now,' said he triumphantly, as he folded up the document and placed it in his pocket-book, 'you know the consequence of a single slanderous whisper!'—I took my departure, terribly nettled, but still somewhat consoled by the possession of the fifty guineas; for I thought that one third of the sum at first expected, was better than none at all.

"I longed to be revenged on Lady Hortensia and Mr. Remington; but I knew not how. I smarted dreadfully under the treatment I had received;—I uttered bitter words against my folly in consenting to leave the house before I had the money paid down; and I pondered on a thousand different ways of venting my spite on my enemies. For several days I rambled about by myself, racking my brain with devices. At last I resolved to abandon the idea, at least for the present; and then I set to work to enjoy myself—or rather to see how soon I could make away with my money. A few weeks beheld the bottom of my purse—and I was astonished to think that so many guineas should have disappeared in so short a time. I was now seriously troubled what to do for a living; because I had no character. Suddenly I bethought myself of Miss Stacey's invitation, and hastened to call on her, it being then about three o'clock in the day. I found her living in elegant lodgings in Maddox Street: and she received me most kindly. I told her, word for word, all that had occurred to me since I last saw her; and she was equally candid with me. In fact, she was then in keeping by one of the Cabinet Ministers, who allowed her ten guineas a week, paid her rent, her milliner's and her wine-merchant's bills, and also the hire of her carriage. We soon came to an understanding together; she wanted a page, or tiger, just at that moment, and I accepted the post. The very next day I entered my new place—the most comfortable I had ever yet been in, because I shared my mistress's bed nearly every night. But I soon discovered that the Cabinet Minister and myself were not the only persons who enjoyed the favours of Miss Stacey. Several gentlemen called during those hours when she knew there was no chance of her 'friend' making his appearance: in fact, the lady had become a regular wanton. It was not however for me to make any observations on her conduct: I was well satisfied with my place—and that was enough. I learnt from her that Mrs. Beaumont had died a few months previously, having just before married her butler, who came into possession of all her fortune and had set up as a gentleman, driving his cab and finding plenty of people to honour his champagne parties with their presence. Miss Stacey also gave me a little sketch of herself. She had been seduced, when only fifteen, by the husband of a lady with whom she was placed as companion; and she unhesitatingly admitted that in all the families where she had lived, she had maintained an intrigue with some one, either master, man-servant, or page. Since she had left Mrs. Beaumont she had been in keeping with the Cabinet Minister;—'but,' she added with a smile, 'you see that I am not particular where I take a fancy.' She was indeed a licentious woman, but very good-natured, and possessing a temper that nothing could ruffle.

"I had been with her about three months, when I saw in the newspaper an account of the sudden death of the Honourable Mr. Ilverton, M.P., who was found a corpse in his bed one night by the side of his wife. There was a Coroner's Inquest; and the verdict was 'Died of apoplexy.' I however had my suspicions that some foul play had been practised. In a little less than a year afterwards, I learnt, by the same channel of intelligence, that Lady Hortensia Ilverton had become the wife of Herbert Remington, Esq. About the same time I met Mrs. Hulse—the pretty lady, you remember, who played such pranks with her two lovers at the boarding-house. She stopped and spoke to me. I inquired after Mr. Hulse; and she said that he was quite well, and that they lived very happy together. I then asked her slyly if she had seen Mr. Frederick Shawe lately.—'What!' she exclaimed, 'do you not know all that happened to him?'—I assured her I did not.—'He committed a forgery some months ago,' she replied, 'and was hanged for it. It was down in the country; but I forget where. The whole account was, however, in the papers at the time.'—I was delighted to hear that the enemy of my parents had come to such a miserable end. Mrs. Hulse gave me half-a-sovereign, and bade me good bye.

"A short time after these little incidents, and when I had been in Miss Stacey's service nearly eighteen months, the Cabinet Minister suddenly withdrew his protection from her—I never heard why. It is however more than probable that her numerous intrigues reached his ears. The immediate result of the stoppage of funds in that quarter was a bolt from the lodgings, my mistress being over head and ears in debt. She removed to Norfolk Street, Strand: and I accompanied her. It was at this time that I was attacked by the small-pox, and obliged to leave. I went to the hospital, where I remained dangerously ill for several weeks; and, when I did recover, I was marked as you now see me. I may therefore say without vanity, that before this unfortunate occurrence I was a very good-looking lad; and it was no wonder that the women used to take a fancy to me. Well, I left the hospital with only a few shillings in my pocket, which I had about me when I went in; and my first step was to enquire after my late mistress in Norfolk Street. But there I learnt a sad tale. She had been greatly reduced in circumstances, and had made away with the things in her ready-furnished lodgings. The landlady gave her into custody; she was committed for trial, and sentenced at the Old Bailey to transportation for seven years. But this sentence was commuted to imprisonment for two years, by an order from the Home Office, although the judge who presided at the trial declared it to be a most aggravated offence. I thought I could understand the secret of this leniency; nor was I mistaken; for, on calling upon my poor mistress in Newgate, where she was imprisoned, she told me that she had written to her late 'friend,' the Cabinet Minister, who had procured the alteration in her sentence. She was very happy, and made me promise to call and see her again. But I never had the opportunity; for some Member took up the case in the House of Commons, and asked the Home Secretary the reason why the original sentence was not carried out, seeing that the jury had given no recommendation to mercy, and that the judge had pronounced a strong opinion on the matter. The affair made such a noise, and the _Weekly Dispatch_ took it up in such strong terms, that the Government was obliged to order the sentence of transportation to be put into immediate effect.[38] The consequence was that the poor lady was sent out of the country as soon as possible; and I never saw her any more. I felt for her deeply: she had been kind to me—and, with all her faults, there were many excellent points in her character. But, somehow or another, I never did meet a woman who, let her be ever so bad, had not some redeeming qualities. I have met hundreds of men so thoroughly bad, that they had not a single thing to recommend them: but it has not been so in my experience with the other sex. I don't believe that any woman can become so utterly depraved, as not to retain a little amount of good feeling about her. I wish I could say as much for men.

"But let me make haste and bring this story to an end. I was now a miserable, friendless wretch in the world, and knew not what to do for a living. I had no character, and could not get a place. At last, when driven to desperation, I resolved to call on the person whom Mrs. Beaumont married, and who was for many years her butler. I accordingly went up to Russell Square, and knocked at the well-known door. A servant in splendid livery answered the summons; and I was shown into the hall, where I was kept waiting for nearly two hours. At last I was shown up into the drawing-room, where the ex-butler lay lounging on the sofa, reading the _Morning Post_. 'Just sit down, young man, for a moment,' said he, with an affected drawl, although he was an old fellow of sixty, 'while I finish the _Fashionable Intelligence_; because, you see, I'm interested in it.'—So I took a seat, and was kept waiting for another half-hour. At last the _gentleman_ laid aside the paper, and enquired my business. I told him who I was, and how distressed was my position. He stared at me for a long time, as if to make sure that I was really the John Jeffreys whom he had once known—for I was cruelly disfigured; and when he was convinced that I was no impostor, he gave me half-a-guinea, saying that he had been a looser by the late Derby, and had lent his friend Lord Mushroom so much money lately, that he could do no more. I thanked him very sincerely and went away. I walked on to Great Russell Street, being in the neighbourhood, and called at the Turners' boarding-house. But I learnt from the servant that Mr. Turner was dead, and Mrs. Turner had _declined_ business in consequence, and would see nobody. I went away with a heavy heart; for I knew that the half-guinea would not last for ever. At length I was so tired with walking about, that I entered a public-house to get some refreshment. Two men were sitting in the parlour, drinking ale; and their conversation, singularly enough, happened to turn on a friend of theirs who, as I heard them say, had just got a situation as footman in a good family.—'But how the devil did he manage, though?' asked one; 'since he only came out of quod for stealing that plate, you know, ten days ago.'—'Why, he got a character of that chap who lives at the house with the balcony, up in Castle Street, Portland Place, to be sure,' was the answer.—'You don't mean old Griffiths, do you?' said the other.—'Of course I do,' replied his friend: 'he's been in that line now for the last six months, and makes an excellent thing by it. I've recommended several poor devils of men-servants to him.'—'The deuce you have!' I exclaimed: 'I wish to God you would recommend me!'—'Are you out of place and got no character?' demanded the man.—'Just so,' I answered; 'and if I don't get a situation soon, I shall starve.'—'Have you got any tin about you?' asked the man.—'Ten shillings, when I've paid for what I've had,' I replied.—'That'll just do the trick!' cried the man: 'you must stand a pot to me and my friend here; and you'll have to pay seven-and-sixpence entrance fee to old Griffiths. Then you'll have a trifle left to take you on till to-morrow.' I readily paid for a pot of the best ale; and when we had disposed of it, I received a note of recommendation to the Mr. Griffiths spoken of. He was an old, respectable-looking man, with a bold crown, and grey hair at the back and sides of his head; and he was sitting in a neat office, with a large book before him. He read the note, which explained my business, and then demanded the entrance fee. This I paid; and he put down my name in the book. 'I will give you the addresses of several families who require a young livery-servant,' he said; 'and you may refer them to Captain Elphinstone, No.—, Mortimer Street, Cavendish Square. You may say that you lived with that gentleman for three years, and only left him on account of ill health. And now I must tell you the nature of the bargain which exists between you and me. You are sure to obtain a situation; and when your first quarter's wages are paid, you must bring me a sovereign; and a sovereign from second quarter. You will then always have me as your friend, and need never be afraid of remaining long out of place. But if you do not keep faith with me, I shall find means to make you repent it.'—I assured the old gentleman I would do the thing that was right; and took my leave of him, rejoiced at the prospect of obtaining a situation.

"Next morning I made myself as tidy as I could, and called at the places pointed out by Mr. Griffiths. I was soon successful, and gave Captain Elphinstone as my reference. The gentleman of the house said he would call on the captain in the course of the day, and I was to return in the evening for the answer. This I did, and found that an unexceptionable character had been given of me. I was therefore admitted into the gentleman's service at once. It was a quiet place, and a small establishment, only consisting of myself and two female servants—a cook and housemaid; for Mr. Farmer, our master, was an elderly bachelor. There I stayed for several years, and was very happy and comfortable indeed. But one day Mr. Farmer took it into his head to marry the cook; and as she could not bear to have in her house the same people who had known her as a fellow-servant, the housemaid and myself both got our discharge. We, however, had good characters, but we did not avail ourselves of them—for, having each scraped up a little money, we agreed to club our savings, and open a shop in the chandlery line. We had long been intimate enough to render the parson's services quite unnecessary in enabling us to live together; and so we commenced business, passing ourselves off as man and wife. The thing did not, however, succeed; and care drove me to the public-house. It was then that I met you, Mr. Bones; and you suggested how much good might be done if I would go back into service, and give you notice of any little things worth your knowing. This I resolved to do; and, leaving my female companion to do what she liked with the shop, I took leave of her. We parted very good friends; and by the aid of old Griffiths I very soon obtained a place. I need not say any more,—unless it is that since then I've been in situations at many houses, and have generally managed to do a pretty decent amount of business with Mr. Bones."

Jeffreys ceased speaking; and his three companions expressed the amusement they had derived from his narrative.

A few more glasses of grog were drunk, as well as a few more pipes smoked; and it was not until past three in the morning that Old Death's visitors left him.

* * * * *

We cannot close this chapter without a few observations relative to that large and important class—domestic servants.

And first of female servants. It is said that great numbers of them are immodest, and that from their ranks the class of unfortunate women, or prostitutes, is largely recruited. We believe that the immorality of female servants is considerably exaggerated by these representations, and that the cases of frailty are the exceptions and not the rule. There are thousands and thousands of females amongst this class as respectable and well conducted as women ought to be, and who take a pride not only in maintaining a spotless character, but in so behaving themselves that there shall be no chance of its becoming tainted. And this is the more creditable to them—the more to their honour, inasmuch as the temptations to which they are exposed are very great. Sent out on errands at all hours—compelled to go to the public-houses to fetch the beer and spirits for the use of the family—constantly placed in contact with the serving-men belonging to the family's tradesmen—exposed to the chance of sustaining insulting liberties at the hands of the visitors to the house—and often persecuted by the lustful addresses of some male inmate of the establishment, such as a brother or son of the master, and perhaps the master himself,—what strength of mind—what moral courage must the servant-maid possess to resist these temptations and escape from so many perils! We mean to say, then, that if she do fall, there is far more scope for pity and a far greater amount of extenuation on her behalf, than on that of the lady who surrenders herself, unmarried, to the embraces of her lover!

And in many—too many instances—what a life of slavery is that of the female servant!—and how little enviable is the lot of the poor maid-of-all-work! Talk of the hard fate of the negress—think of the hard fate of the maid-of-all-work! Excellent saint of Exeter Hall! you need not send your sympathies travelling some thousands of miles across the sea: there is plenty of scope for their exercise at home, if you be really sincere—which we know you are _not_! Look to the maid-of-all-work—up at five in the winter, and heaven only knows when in the summer,—compelled to keep an entire house neat and decent—to black all the boots and shoes—to run on all the errands—to put herself in awful peril by standing or sitting outside the windows which she is compelled to clean—and very frequently half-starved by those whom she serves so assiduously and so faithfully,—what a life is hers![39]

Female servants are treated with much greater kindness in France than in England. In the former country they are considered rather in the light of humble friends of the family than as mere slaves, which is the estimation in which they are usually held, we are sorry to say, in the British Islands. Let them be treated with kindness and forbearance: they have much to try their patience and sour their tempers by the very nature of their condition and the miscellaneous character of their avocations. A man or a woman who is unkind to a servant, is a wretch deserving obloquy and execration. But a master or a mistress who, through petty spite or sheer malignity, refuses to give to a discharged servant the good character which such servant may in reality deserve, is a very fiend, unfit to remain in civilised society.

Before we take leave of this subject, we cannot resist the opportunity of expressing our opinion relative to a practice adopted at Court: we mean the fact of the Queen being waited upon in her private apartments by ladies of high rank and good family, instead of by female servants. Who is Queen Victoria, that a Duchess must select her gown, and a Marchioness hook it? Is she a goddess that a Countess must help her to put on her shoes, and a Baroness tie them? Must not royalty be touched by the hands of a female servant? Alas! we strongly suspect that Queen Victoria is a woman made of the same flesh and blood as the most ordinary mortals: and we feel confident that the practice of attaching ladies of rank and title to her august person is as pernicious to her, as it is degrading to the ladies themselves, and as flagrantly insulting to the entire class of well-conducted ladies'-maids. But royalty in this country must be idolized—deified: no means must be left untried to convince the credulous public that royalty is something very different from commonalty. This delusion shall, however, be dispelled;—the people must be taught to look on Victoria as nothing more than the chief magistrate of the country, deriving her power from the nation at large, and holding it only so long as the majority of the inhabitants of these realms may consider her worthy to retain it. The contemptible farce of firing cannon to announce her movements—of illuminating dwelling-houses on her birth-day—of cheering her whenever she appears in public, just as if she cared two figs for the bawling idlers who gaze on Majesty with awe and astonishment,—all this miserable humbug should be abolished. _The more a Sovereign is deified, the more the people are abased._ Instead of the nation being obliged to Queen Victoria for ruling over it, Queen Victoria ought to be very much obliged to the nation for allowing her to occupy her high post. For the only real _sovereign power_ is that of the people; and the individual who looks on royalty as something infallible—divine—supernally grand and awe-inspiring, is a drivelling, narrow-minded idiot, unworthy of the enjoyment of political freedom, and fit only to take his place amidst the herds of Russian serfdom.

Footnote 38:

This incident is founded on fact. Many of our readers will doubtless recollect the case of J——N——and her mother, who were convicted of robbing ready-furnished lodgings about ten years ago. Miss J——N——had been the mistress of a noble lord who was a Cabinet Minister at the time of the condemnation of her mother and herself, _and who is a Cabinet Minister at the present moment_. The affair created a great sensation at the time; but the _Dispatch_ and other independent newspapers took it up; not in order to persecute the unhappy women, but on public grounds. The result was that the original sentence passed upon them, and which Ministerial favouritism sought to commute to a much milder penalty, was carried into force. The entire business, so far as the noble lord was concerned, was vile and scandalous in the extreme.

Footnote 39:

We avail ourselves of the opportunity afforded us by the glance which we are taking at this subject, to recommend to perusal an admirable little work, written by our esteemed and talented friend, Mr. John Taylor Sinnett, and entitled "The Servant Girl in London." It is published by Hastings, Carey Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields; and is a little book which should be found in all families, as it contains sentiments and precepts useful alike to the employer and the employed.

In a work from which we have frequently quoted in the Notes belonging to the present Series of "THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON,"—we allude to "Poverty, Mendicity, and Crime,"—we find an important passage bearing strongly upon the subject of the text. It runs as follows:—"We must now direct attention to the class of female servants, and they form no insignificant number: from these the higher ranks of our prostitutes are recruited. Thirst for dress and finery, which has crept on to such a degree that it is not a very rare sight to behold them waiting on their mistress in the morning, bedecked in silks and ornaments equal to the young ladies themselves, even where the ladies are of the highest class of the community. Great censure is due to ladies, especially those who are mothers, for not restraining their servants from squandering away the whole of their money, loss of place ought to be the consequence of not laying by a small portion of wages to sustain themselves in the event of illness or other unforeseen calamity; the dress of a female servant ought to be good, but perfectly void of ridiculous ornament and frippery. The ladies' maids of our aristocracy are a race the most highly culpable of their sex, aping all the pride and airs of their lady, and desiring to appear abroad with equal _éclat_, to effect which, the wardrobe of the mistress is not unfrequently resorted to, and the purse not always held sacred, or she becomes a prostitute whilst under the roof of her employer, till descending from one false step to another she at length links her fate to some favourite of the swell mob, to whom she at first listened as a suitor, and ends in her being accessary to robbing the family which had fostered her. It is ascertained, beyond doubt, that most of the houses that are robbed, arises from the connexion and intimacy which the servant has contracted with some of the petty workmen who have been employed about the premises, many of whom are thieves themselves, or connected with some gang of villains who resort to that expedient to learn what property is kept on the premises, and how it is disposed of at night. 'A great deal of crime,' says Mr. Nairn, in his evidence, 'is generated in consequence of the tradesmen who employ journeymen to work for them, in gentlemen's houses, not taking care to inquire into their character: by getting acquainted with servants, they get a knowledge of those parts of the house where anything valuable is kept. A number of men that were in the prison were painters, plasterers, and bricklayers, they were in the practice of communicating with thieves, and it is in that secret manner that they get information where property is kept.'—_Vide J. H. Nairn, p. 370, 2nd Report, Lords, on State of Gaols, 1835._

"There is a most infamous conspiracy existing between the purveyors or housekeepers of the aristocracy and their tradespeople, the latter paying the former a large per centage on the bills for the sake of 'gaining their custom.' Twenty per cent. is often given, and it has been known to rise as high as fifty; unfortunately, the nobleman considers it as derogatory to his high rank to look into his pecuniary domestic affairs; but taking it in a moral point of view, it is his duty to do so for the sake of preventing this species of peculation, which is an absolute theft and one of the stepping-stones to crime generally, as the money so attained is mostly as lightly spent, and the servants out of place for a length of time, the difficulty to procure the wherewithal to keep alive their former extravagance makes them not hesitate to become _regular thieves_, the fine sense of honesty having been destroyed by the transaction with the tradesman, who had not failed, in his turn, to make out a bill more than sufficiently long to cover merely his generosity in bestowing Christmas boxes upon the domestics of his patron. These tradesmen are a rank disgrace to their more honest fellow shopkeeper; they are worse than fences, and it is greatly to be regretted that a complete _expose_ cannot take place, and all such tradesmen dealt with according to their merit.

"Another evil in society that is pregnant with mischief is giving a false character to servants, which ladies are constantly in the practice of doing, to avoid being plagued, or 'perhaps,' as they say, 'insulted by the discarded servant,' whose character, if correctly stated, would not be such as easily to procure a new situation; thus a pilferer having once had the luck to start off in a private family with a good name, is from this shameful habit let loose upon the public to commit his depredations at leisure and convenience, with the chance of blame falling upon an honest individual, through the crafty machination of the wicked. By making servants conscious that they would only procure such a character as they really deserve, great good would accrue to the public generally, and the servants themselves would be taught to curb their temper and other bad propensities, by which they would become infinitely more contented and happy beings, and valuable members of society.

"It is too often the case that servants are looked upon as little better than slaves, and so to treat them. To say the least of such conduct it is unwise, for in proportion to the kindness with which they are treated, so will they study in return to make us enjoy numberless little comforts so delightful to experience, and which it is in their power to give life to or destroy. Humanity ought to suggest that the situation in which these persons are placed, witnessing nightly those scenes of pleasure, without being permitted to join in them, is sufficiently grating, for they all have their feelings, in common with the best of us, and it ought to be one of the first cares of the heads of families to lighten, as far as consistent with the rules and shades of society, the state and labours of their dependants. In France the servants are in an enviable condition compared with those of England, and if the plan were followed in this country, giving them their little pleasures, many a one, whose propensities were wavering, would be confirmed in virtue, and become a useful member, instead of a disgrace to society."