CHAPTER CXIX.

THE EXAMINATION OF MR. FRANK CURTIS.

Captain O’Blunderbuss surveyed his friend with a degree of admiration amounting almost to envy, as the latter leapt nimbly into the box; but when the two Commissioners inflicted upon the Insolvent the simultaneous long stare which seemed to form a portion of the judicial proceedings, the gallant officer fixed upon those learned functionaries a look of the most ferocious menace,--muttering at the same time something about the “punching of heads.” As for Mr. Frank Curtis, he returned the stare of the Commissioners in so deliberately impudent and yet good-humoured a manner that it was quite evident the physiognomical discrimination of the bench was at least for once completely set at naught. In plain terms, the Commissioners did not know what the deuce to make of the young gentleman.

“I appear for the Insolvent, sir,” said one of the learned counsel, Mr. Cadgerbreef by name.

“And I attend for an opposing creditor, sir,” observed Mr. Bulliwell.

The Clerk of the Court handed up the schedule to the Commissioners, who occupied some minutes in looking over it, the document being somewhat a lengthy one.

“I see you have got upwards of a hundred and fifty creditors, Insolvent,” said Mr. Commissioner Sneesby, fixing his eyes severely upon the youthful candidate for the process of white-washing.

“Be Jasus! and my frind’s a jintleman--every inch of him!” cried Captain O’Blunderbuss: “and no jintleman could think of petitioning the Court with less than a hunthred and fifty creditors.”

The whole Court was struck with dismay--the bench being perfectly aghast--at this interruption; while the captain stood as dauntless and menacing as if he seriously contemplated the challenging of Commissioners, learned counsel, lawyers, and all. Even the usher was so astounded by his conduct that he forgot to bawl out his usual noisy cry for silence.

“Who is this person?” enquired Mr. Commissioner Sneesby, turning towards his brother-judge, as if the latter knew any better than himself.

“_Person_, be Jasus! Don’t call me _a person_,” vociferated the gallant gentleman, stamping his martial foot heavily upon the floor. “Is it me name ye’d be afther finding out? If so, I’ll hand ye my car-r-d--and you’ll find that I’m Capthain O’Bluntherbuss, of Bluntherbuss Park, Connemar-r-ra, Ir-r-reland!” added the Insolvent’s bosom-friend, rattling the r in such an appalling manner that it seemed as if a waggon laden with iron bars was passing through the Court.

“Turn him out!” exclaimed Mr. Commissioner Sneesby.

“Be Jasus! and it’ll take tin of ye to do that!” ejaculated the captain, taking so firm and dauntless a stand that he appeared literally nailed to the ground. “But we’ll make a compromise, if ye plaze--and that is, I’ll hould my tongue.”

“You had better, sir,” said the Commissioner: then, perceiving that none of the officials seemed inclined to assail the impregnable front which the ferocious Irishman presented, he thought it prudent to pass over the interruption and continue the business before the Court. “Who attends to oppose?” he accordingly demanded.

“Me!” ejaculated a little, dapper-looking, flashily-dressed person, elbowing his way through the crowd behind the barristers’ seats, and getting his glossy beaver smashed flat as an opera hat in the desperate struggle: indeed, what with the smell of onions from one man and tobacco from another,--what with the squeezing, and pushing, and crushing--the treading on toes, and the danger of having one’s coat slit up the back or one’s pocket picked,--it is no easy nor pleasant matter to transform oneself into a human wedge to be applied to such a stubborn, compact mass as a multitude in a Court of Justice.

At last, however, the little man succeeded in reaching the witness-box,--but not without being compelled to smart under the disagreeable conviction that the studied elegance of his toilette was entirely marred--his shirt-frill tumbled, his white waistcoat soiled through contact with a coal-heaver, and all the polish trodden off his boots.

Adjusting himself as well as he could in the box, he made a profound bow to the bench, simpered in a familiar fashion towards his counsel, glanced complacently at the attorneys, and then turned a look of indignant contempt upon the Insolvent,--so that the little gentleman’s transitions from excruciating politeness to extreme hauteur were very interesting indeed.

“Your name is Kicksey Fopperton, I believe?” said Mr. Bulliwell, the opposing creditor’s own counsel, specially retained and fee’d for the purpose of getting Mr. Frank Curtis remanded during as lengthened a period as possible.

“That is my name, sir,” was the answer, delivered with a bland smile and a half bow.

“What are you, Mr. Fopperton?”

“A tailor by trade, sir;”--for persons of Mr. Fopperton’s calling never describe themselves briefly as “tailors,” but always as “tailors by trade.”

“A tailor by trade,” repeated Mr. Bulliwell. “And you carry on business----”

“In Regent Street, sir,” replied Mr. Fopperton, glancing towards the bench to notice what effect such a fashionable address had produced upon the Commissioners: but one was dozing, and the other seemed to be looking at nothing--just as horses appear when they are standing idle.

“In Regent Street,” repeated Mr. Bulliwell. “And I believe the Insolvent called upon you, and ordered clothes to a considerable amount?”

“I have supplied him for the last three years,” answered Mr. Fopperton, “and never yet saw the colour of his money.”

“You never yet saw the colour of his money. But he has seen the colour of yours, though?”

“I have discounted bills for him to the amount of a thousand pounds.”

“To the amount of a thousand pounds. Now, on what pretence--or rather, under what circumstances did the Insolvent introduce himself to you?” inquired Mr. Bulliwell.

“He drove up to my door in a dashing gig, sir,” answered Mr. Fopperton, “leapt down, rushed in, and enquired if his friend the Archbishop of Canterbury had been waiting there for him? I assured him that his Grace had not visited the shop, to my knowledge, in all his life. ‘_God bless me!_’ exclaimed Mr. Curtis; ‘_I must have made a mistake, then! But don’t you make the leather breeches which his Grace wears when he goes out hunting?_’ I replied that I never made leather breeches at all. ‘_Nor galligaskins?_’ said Mr. Curtis. ‘_Nor galligaskins, sir_,’ I said. ‘_Then blow me tight_’ says he, ‘_I have come to the wrong shop. My intimate and particular friend the Archbishop of York_----‘. I suggested ‘_Canterbury_,’--‘_Canterbury I meant!_’ exclaimed Mr. Curtis: ‘_his Grace promised to introduce me to his own tailor; and here have I been promising introductions likewise to Lord Pumpleby and the Marquis of Dublin, and a whole lot of my fashionable friends. There is a perfect rage all on a sudden to employ his Grace’s tailor!_’--I was struck by all this fine-sounding talk, and handed Mr. Curtis my card. ‘_Egad!_’ said he, laughing, ‘_I’ve a precious good mind to have a lark, and pit you against his Grace’s tailor. My eyes! what fun it would be!_’”

“And it ended by the Insolvent actually putting you in competition with the imaginary tailor which he had conjured up?” enquired Mr. Bulliwell.

“Just so, sir,” returned Mr. Fopperton “and though I heard sometime afterwards that Mr. Curtis received a handsome income from his uncle Sir Christopher Blunt, yet I never got a sixpence.”

“Be Jasus! Sir Christopher-r is a regular ould screw!” ejaculated Captain O’Blunderbuss.

“Eh?--what?” cried the Commissioners, the one awaking from his nap and the other from his obliviousness.

“Is it afther distur-r-bing ye I’ve been again?” demanded the gallant gentleman: “then, be the holy poker-r! I ask your pardon--and I’ll hould my pace!”

With these words the captain put his arms akimbo--pursed up his mouth in a most extraordinary fashion--and stood as still as a post and as demure as a methodist parson, to the huge delight of the unwashed audience.

“It appears,” said Mr. Bulliwell, resuming his examination of the opposing creditor, “that the Insolvent obtained clothes to the amount of four hundred pounds, and cash to the amount of a thousand?”

Mr. Fopperton bowed an assent.

“And you have every reason to believe that he only talked about the Archbishop’s tailor and his noble acquaintances, in order to throw dust into your eyes?”

“To make a fool of me, sir,” cried Mr. Kicksey Fopperton.

“To make a fool of you,” repeated Mr. Bulliwell.

“And an ass of me, sir!” ejaculated the tailor, with increasing warmth.

“And an ass of you,” echoed the learned counsel.

“Yes, sir--and to make a stupid old owl of me!” vociferated Mr. Fopperton.

“A stupid old owl of you,” still repeated Mr. Bulliwell, in the most matter-of-fact style possible: then, perceiving that his client had exhausted alike his self-reproaching epithets and his breath, the learned counsel sate down.

Thereupon up rose Mr. Cadgerbreef, who had been retained for the defence of the Insolvent; and as he pulled his gown over his shoulders and prepared to cross-examine the opposing creditor, Captain O’Blunderbuss turned partially round, and forming an arch with his hand on one side of his mouth, said, in a pretty loud tone however, “Be Jasus! and if ye don’t make mince mate of him, it’s meself that’ll skin him alive!”

The learned counsel nodded his head in a significant manner, as much as to say, “Just wait a moment--and you shall see how I’ll serve him;”--and the gallant captain appeared satisfied with the tacit promise thus conveyed.

“Now, Mr. Fopperton,” cried Mr. Cadgerbreef, who was considered to be particularly skilful in badgering and baiting an opposing creditor, “you’ll be so kind as to remember that you are upon your oath:” and the learned counsel glanced towards the bench, as much as to intimate that the Commissioners were keeping a sharp look out on him, the opposing creditor aforesaid, and would send him to Newgate without remorse at the least symptom of perjury that might transpire.

Mr. Fopperton cast his eyes timidly in the same direction; and it was no doubt some satisfaction to him to observe that the sleepy Commissioner _was_ fast asleep, and that the other was just going off into a doze.

“Well, Mr. Fopperton,” exclaimed Mr. Cadgerbreef, in a very loud and very overbearing tone, “so you have come to oppose the Insolvent’s discharge--have you? Now answer me this question: have you ever been in that box yourself?” pointing at the same time in a resolute and determined manner towards the place occupied by Mr. Curtis.

“Am I bound to answer that question?” asked Mr. Fopperton, becoming considerably crest-fallen all on a sudden, and appealing meekly to his own counsel.

“I am afraid you must,” returned Mr. Bulliwell.

“Well, then,sir--I have had the misfortune to pass through this Court,” said the fashionable tailor, his countenance growing excessively blank.

“You _have_ been insolvent,” exclaimed Mr. Cadgerbreef. “Now, sir, how often have you petitioned the Court and been discharged from your liabilities through the proceedings of this Court?”

“Really, sir--I--I----” stammered the West-End tailor, becoming awfully red in the face.

“Shall I repeat the question, sir?” demanded the learned counsel, affecting a politeness that was even more galling than his severity had been.

“You had better answer, Mr. Fopperton,” said Mr. Bulliwell.

“I can’t say--that is--not exactly----”

“Oh! very well--then we shall see!” cried Mr. Cadgerbreef, taking up a pen, dipping it deep into the ink, and making believe that he was about to take down the answers to be given to his questions--so as to catch the opposing creditor out perjuring himself if possible: “will you swear, Mr. Fopperton, that you have not been insolvent seven times?”

“Yes, sir--I _will_ swear to that,” returned the tailor with alacrity.

“You will swear. Well--will you swear that you have not been insolvent five times?”

“Yes, sir--I will swear to that too.”

“You will swear to that, too. Now mind what you’re about, Mr. Fopperton: take care what you say,” cried Mr. Cadgerbreef, in a tone of awful menace. “Will you swear that you have not been insolvent three times?”

“No, sir--I--I can’t swear to that,” answered the tailor, looking very miserable.

“You can’t swear to that. Now, can you deny it?” “No, sir--I cannot,” said Mr. Fopperton.

“You cannot,” repeated Mr. Cadgerbreef, casting a glance at Captain O’Blunderbuss, which seemed to say, “I have him now!”--then, again addressing himself to the opposing creditor, he exclaimed in a domineering, browbeating manner, “Take care what you are about, Mr. Fopperton;--and now tell me whether you have not been bankrupt, as well as insolvent, several times.”

“No--only once bankrupt,” cried Mr. Fopperton, impatiently.

“Well--once bankrupt--and enough too, when coupled with three insolvencies!” said the learned gentleman, in a tone which very significantly implied his belief that the opposing creditor was the greatest scoundrel in the universe. “And pray how much have you ever paid in the shape of dividend, sir?”

“I really can’t say at this moment: I----”

“Oh! you can’t--can’t you!” cried Mr. Cadgerbreef: “then I’ll see if I can refresh your memory;”--and, taking out of his pocket a letter from some friend or relation, he pretended to examine it with very great attention, as if it contained some damning testimony relative to Mr. Fopperton’s dealings--although, in reality, it had no more connexion with him or his affairs than with the man in the moon.

“I think I recollect now, sir,” said the West-End tailor, getting frightened: “I--I----”

“Well, sir--can you answer my question?” demanded Mr. Cadgerbreef, laying his fore-finger on the letter in a marked and formal manner, just as if he were pointing to the very paragraph which furnished all requisite information respecting the tailor. “I will repeat it again for you: how much have you ever paid, collectively and under all your numerous insolvencies and frequent bankruptcies, in the shape of dividend?”

“Two-pence three farthings in the pound, sir,” answered Mr. Fopperton, in a low tone.

“Speak out, sir!” vociferated the learned counsel, although he heard perfectly well what had been said. “Two-pence three farthings in the pound,” exclaimed the unfortunate Snip, who already repented most bitterly that, by coming to oppose Mr. Frank Curtis, he had fallen into the hands of Mr. Cadgerbreef.

“Two-pence three farthings in the pound,” repeated this learned gentleman, tossing up his head as if in unmitigated abhorrence at such awful villainy. “And pray, sir, what was the aggregate of liabilities under all your innumerable insolvencies and your equally numberless bankruptcies?”

“I never was bankrupt more than once, sir,” mournfully and imploringly remonstrated the tailor, now worked up to a frightful pitch of nervousness and misery.

“Don’t shirk my question, sir!” exclaimed the barrister, sternly. “How much did all your liabilities--”

“Thirty thousand pounds, sir,” hastily cried Mr. Fopperton, anticipating the repetition of the query on the part of the learned gentleman.

“Be Jasus! and he’s a complete villain!” said Captain O’Blunderbuss, in such a loud tone that both the Commissioners woke up: whereupon the gallant officer affected to be seized with a sudden inclination to gaze up abstractedly at the sky-light, just for all the world as if he were quite innocent of any fresh interruption.

“Now, Mr. Fopperton,” exclaimed Mr. Cadgerbreef, seeing that the Commissioners were all attention just at this moment, and taking a skilful advantage of the circumstance, “under your numerous insolvencies and frequent bankruptcies--don’t interrupt me, sir--you have paid two-pence three farthings in the pound, on aggregate liabilities amounting to thirty thousand pounds. The Court will be pleased to notice these facts. And yet, Mr. Fopperton, we find you discounting a thousand pounds’ worth of bills for my client, the Insolvent. The Court will again please to take a note of this fact.”

Of course the Commissioners could not help making--or at least affecting to make the memoranda suggested by the learned counsel: so the sleepy one scrawled a zig-zag line across his note-book, and the other hit off a rapid sketch of Captain O’Blunderbuss’s face, Mr. Commissioner Sneesby being very proficient in that style of drawing. The two functionaries then laid down their pens, and looked as solemn and serious as if they had actually and positively taken the notes in the most business-like manner possible.

“Now, sir,” continued Mr. Cadgerbreef, once more turning to the opposing creditor, “will you tell the Court how much hard cash you gave the Insolvent for his acceptance of one thousand pounds?”

“Really, sir, the occurrence is so long ago--I--I----”

“Will you swear, man, that you gave him two hundred pounds?” demanded the learned counsel, impatiently.

“Yes, sir--I will,” was the instantaneous answer.

“Will you swear that you gave him four hundred?”--and Mr. Cadgerbreef dipped his pen into the ink with an air of awful determination.

“Why--no--I can’t exactly----” stammered the tailor, every instant becoming more and more nervous.

“Will you swear that you gave him three hundred and twenty pounds in hard cash for that bill?” demanded Mr. Cadgerbreef.

“That was just what I did pay in money,” replied Mr. Fopperton, in a hesitating manner.

“That was just what you did pay. Now tell the earned Commissioners what else you gave the Insolvent for that bill.”

“There was three hundred and twenty in cash--and four hundred and twenty in wines, pictures, and other objects of value----”

“Come--that only gives us seven hundred and forty,” cried the barrister: “how do you make up the rest?”

“A hundred pounds _discount_, sir--and----”

“A hundred pounds discount. Well--what next?”

“Sixty pounds _commission_, sir--and----”

“Sixty pounds commission. You have still another hundred to account for, Mr. Fopperton,” said the learned counsel, sharply. “Come--about that other hundred? and mind what you tell the Commissioners.”

“Well, sir--the hundred pounds was for _bonus_,” answered the fashionable tailor.

“That will do, sir: you may stand down,” said Mr. Cadgerbreef, looking significantly at the learned Commissioners, with a view of impressing it on their minds that he had just succeeded in fully unmasking a most awful rogue.

Mr. Bulliwell now rose and made a very furious speech against the Insolvent; so that a stranger unacquainted with the practice of English Courts of Justice, would have fancied that the learned counsel had some bitter and deadly motive of personal hatred against the young gentleman;--whereas all that apparent venom--that seeming spite--that assumed virulence--and that fierce eloquence were purchased by Mr. Kicksey Fopperton for a couple of guineas. The speech was cheap--yes, very cheap, when we take into consideration the almost excruciating pains that the learned gentleman took to get Frank Curtis remanded to prison for six months. So much perspiration--such frantic gesticulation--and such impassioned declamation were well worth the money; and if it did Mr. Bulliwell good to earn his two guineas on such terms, it must have been equally satisfactory to Mr. Kicksey Fopperton to obtain so good a two guineas’ worth.

During the delivery of this oration, Captain O’Blunderbuss could scarcely contain his fury: as insulting epithet after epithet poured from the lips of Mr. Bulliwell, who was always more eloquent when conducting an opposition than when arguing a defence, the gallant Irishman literally foamed at the mouth;--and it was only in the hope of Mr. Cadgerbreef’s ability to mend the business, that he succeeded in controlling his passion. At length Mr. Bulliwell sate down; and the captain muttered in a pretty audible tone, “Blood and thunther! he shall repint of this as long as he lives, if my frind is sent back to the Binch!”

Mr. Cadgerbreef rose to defend his client, Frank Curtis; and as the best means of making that young gentleman appear white was to represent the opposing creditor as particularly black, the learned counsel forthwith began to depict Mr. Kicksey Fopperton’s character in such sable dyes that the unfortunate tailor soon found himself held up to execration as a species of moral blackamoor. In fact, the poor little man was stunned--astounded--paralysed by the vituperative eloquence of Mr. Cadgerbreef; and as the learned counsel proceeded to denounce his “numerous insolvencies” and “his frequent bankruptcies” as proofs of unmitigated depravity,--as he dwelt upon the features of the bill-transaction, and spoke with loathing of the _discount_, with disgust of the _commission_, and with perfect horror of the _bonus_,--Mr. Fopperton began to say to himself, “Well, upon my word, I begin to fear that I am indeed a most unprincipled scoundrel: but the fact was never brought home to me so forcibly before!”

In the meantime Captain O’Blunderbuss was in perfect ecstacies: he forgot all that Mr. Bulliwell had said, in listening to the counter-declamation of Mr. Cadgerbreef;--and his delight was expressed in frequent ejaculatory outbursts, such as “Be Jasus, and there ye have him!” but which passed comparatively unnoticed amidst the thundering din of the learned counsel’s torrent of words. As for Mr. Frank Curtis, he had cared little for the violent assault made upon him by Mr. Bulliwell; but he was immensely pleased at the slaughterous attack effected by Mr. Cadgerbreef on the dismayed and horrified tailor.

The defence being concluded, the two learned Commissioners consulted with each other in whispers; and when they had exchanged a few remarks having no more reference to the case before them than to the affairs of the Chinese Empire, Mr. Commissioner Sneesby proceeded to deliver the judgment of the Court.

Looking as awfully solemn as possible, he said, “Insolvent, it is perfectly clear that you have run a career of extravagance and folly which must be summarily checked. While enjoying a handsome allowance from your worthy uncle, you contracted numerous debts in a most reckless manner; and it is probable that Sir Christopher Blunt withdrew that allowance in consequence of your spendthrift habits. Insolvent, the Court is of opinion that you cannot be allowed your freedom again until you shall have passed a certain time in confinement, both as a punishment for the past and as a warning for the future. The judgment of the Court is, therefore, that you be remanded at the suit of your opposing creditor, Mr. Fopperton, for the space of five calendar months from the date of your vesting order.”

“Thin bad luck to ye, ye slapy-headed ould scoundrels!” vociferated Captain O’Blunderbuss.

“Holloa, there!” cried the usher, unable to pass over such a flagrant breach of decorum as this, in spite of the awe with which the terrible Irishman inspired him; and, springing towards the captain, the official clutched him by the collar--while, to use the words of the newspaper reporter, “the most tremendous sensation pervaded the Court.”

But Gorman O’Blunderbuss was not the man to be thus assailed with impunity; and, knocking down the usher with one hand and Mr. Kicksey Fopperton on the top of him with the other, he made a desperate rush from the tribunal, no opposition being offered to his exit.

A few minutes afterwards he was joined at the public-house over the way by his friend Frank Curtis and the tipstaff who had charge of the latter; and the three worthies, following the example of the pious Mr. Joshua Sheepshanks, drank spirits-and-water until they were compelled to return to the King’s Bench in a hackney-coach.