The Memoirs of Mr. Charles J. Yellowplush Part 13
You’re reading novel The Memoirs of Mr. Charles J. Yellowplush Part 13 online at LightNovelFree.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit LightNovelFree.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy!
CHAPTER VII.
THE CONSQUINSIES.
The shevalliay did not die, for the ball came out of its own accord, in the midst of a violent fever and inflamayshn which was brot on by the wound. He was kept in bed for 6 weeks though, and did not recover for a long time after.
As for master, his lot, I'm sorry to say, was wuss than that of his advisary. Inflammation came on too; and, to make an ugly story short, they were obliged to take off his hand at the rist.
He bore it, in cors, like a Trojin, and in a month he too was well, and his wound heel'd; but I never see a man look so like a devvle as he used sometimes, when he looked down at the stump!
To be sure, in Miss Griffinses eyes, this only indeerd him the mor. She sent twenty noats a day to ask for him, calling him her beloved, her unfortunat, her hero, her wictim, and I dono what. I've kep some of the noats, as I tell you, and curiously sentimentle they are, beating the sorrows of MacWhirter all to nothing.
Old Crabs used to come offen, and consumed a power of wine and seagars at our house. I bleave he was at Paris because there was an exycution in his own house in England; and his son was a sure find (as they say) during his illness, and couldn't deny himself to the old genlmn. His eveninx my lord spent reglar at Lady Griffin's; where, as master was ill, I didn't go any more now, and where the shevalier wasn't there to disturb him.
"You see how that woman hates you, Deuceace," says my lord, one day, in a fit of cander, after they had been talking about Lady Griffin: "SHE HAS NOT DONE WITH YOU YET, I tell you fairly."
"Curse her," says master, in a fury, lifting up his maim'd arm--"curse her! but I will be even with her one day. I am sure of Matilda: I took care to put that beyond the reach of a failure. The girl must marry me, for her own sake."
"FOR HER OWN SAKE! O ho! Good, good!" My lord lifted his i's, and said gravely, "I understand, my dear boy: it is an excellent plan."
"Well," says master, grinning fearcely and knowingly at his exlent old father, "as the girl is safe, what harm can I fear from the fiend of a step-mother?"
My lord only gev a long whizzle, and, soon after, taking up his hat, walked off. I saw him sawnter down the Plas Vandome, and go in quite calmly to the old door of Lady Griffinses hotel. Bless his old face!
such a puffickly good-natured, kind-hearted, merry, selfish old scoundrel, I never shall see again.
His lords.h.i.+p was quite right in saying to master that "Lady Griffin hadn't done with him." No moar she had. But she never would have thought of the nex game she was going to play, IF SOMEBODY HADN'T PUT HER UP TO IT. Who did? If you red the above pa.s.sidge, and saw how a venrabble old genlmn took his hat, and sauntered down the Plas Vandome (looking hard and kind at all the nussary-maids--buns they call them in France--in the way), I leave you to guess who was the author of the nex scheam: a woman, suttnly, never would have pitcht on it.
In the fuss payper which I wrote concerning Mr. Deuceace's adventers, and his kind behayvior to Messrs. Dawkins and Blewitt, I had the honor of laying before the public a skidewl of my master's detts, in witch was the following itim:
"Bills of xchange and I.O.U.'s, 4963L. 0s. 0d."
The I.O.U.se were trifling, say a thowsnd pound. The bills amountid to four thowsnd moar.
Now, the lor is in France, that if a genlmn gives these in England, and a French genlmn gits them in any way, he can pursew the Englishman who has drawn them, even though he should be in France. Master did not know this fact--laboring under a very common mistak, that, when onst out of England, he might wissle at all the debts he left behind him.
My Lady Griffin sent over to her slissators in London, who made arrangemints with the persons who possest the fine collection of ortografs on stampt paper which master had left behind him; and they were glad enuff to take any oppertunity of getting back their money.
One fine morning, as I was looking about in the court-yard of our hotel, talking to the servant-gals, as was my reglar custom, in order to improve myself in the French languidge, one of them comes up to me and says, "Tenez, Monsieur Charles, down below in the office there is a bailiff, with a couple of gendarmes, who is asking for your master--a-t-il des dettes par hasard?"
I was struck all of a heap--the truth flasht on my mind's hi.
"Toinette," says I, for that was the gal's name--"Toinette," says I, giving her a kiss, "keep them for two minits, as you valyou my aff.e.c.kshn;" and then I gave her another kiss, and ran up stares to our chambers. Master had now pretty well recovered of his wound, and was aloud to drive abowt: it was lucky for him that he had the strength to move. "Sir, sir," says I, "the bailiffs are after you, and you must run for your life."
"Bailiff?" says he: "nonsense! I don't, thank heaven, owe a s.h.i.+lling to any man."
"Stuff, sir," says I, forgetting my respeck; "don't you owe money in England? I tell you the bailiffs are here, and will be on you in a moment."
As I spoke, cling cling, ling ling, goes the bell of the antyshamber, and there they were sure enough!
What was to be done? Quick as litening, I throws off my livry coat, claps my goold lace hat on master's head, and makes him put on my livry.
Then I wraps myself up in his dressing-gown, and lolling down on the sofa, bids him open the dor.
There they were--the bailiff--two jondarms with him--Toinette, and an old waiter. When Toinette sees master, she smiles, and says: "Dis donc, Charles! ou est donc ton maitre? Chez lui, n'est-ce pas? C'est le jeune a monsieur," says she, curtsying to the bailiff.
The old waiter was just a-going to blurt out, "Mais ce n'est pas!" when Toinette stops him, and says, "Laissez donc pa.s.ser ces messieurs, vieux bete;" and in they walk, the 2 jon d'arms taking their post in the hall.
Master throws open the salong doar very gravely, and touching MY hat says, "Have you any orders about the cab, sir?"
"Why, no, Chawls," says I; "I shan't drive out to-day."
The old bailiff grinned, for he understood English (having had plenty of English customers), and says in French, as master goes out, "I think, sir, you had better let your servant get a coach, for I am under the painful necessity of arresting you, au nom de la loi, for the sum of ninety-eight thousand seven hundred francs, owed by you to the Sieur Jacques Francois Lebrun, of Paris;" and he pulls out a number of bills, with master's acceptances on them sure enough.
"Take a chair, sir," says I; and down he sits; and I began to chaff him, as well as I could, about the weather, my illness, my sad axdent, having lost one of my hands, which was stuck into my busum, and so on.
At last, after a minnit or two, I could contane no longer, and bust out in a horse laff.
The old fellow turned quite pail, and began to suspect somethink.
"Hola!" says he; "gendarmes! a moi! a moi! Je suis floue, vole," which means, in English, that he was reglar sold.
The jondarmes jumped into the room, and so did Toinette and the waiter. Grasefly rising from my arm-chare, I took my hand from my dressing-gownd, and, flinging it open, stuck up on the chair one of the neatest legs ever seen.
I then pinted majestickly--to what do you think?--to my PLUSH t.i.tES!
those sellabrated inigspressables which have rendered me famous in Yourope.
Taking the hint, the jondarmes and the servnts rord out laffing; and so did Charles Yellowplush, Esquire, I can tell you. Old Grippard the bailiff looked as if he would faint in his chare.
I heard a kab galloping like mad out of the hotel-gate, and knew then that my master was safe.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE END OF MR. DEUCEACE'S HISTORY. LIMBO.
My tail is droring rabidly to a close; my suvvice with Mr. Deuceace didn't continyou very long after the last chapter, in which I described my admiral strattyjam, and my singlar self-devocean. There's very few servnts, I can tell you, who'd have thought of such a contrivance, and very few moar would have eggsycuted it when thought of.
But, after all, beyond the trifling advantich to myself in selling master's roab de sham, which you, gentle reader, may remember I woar, and in dixcovering a fipun note in one of the pockets,--beyond this, I say, there was to poar master very little advantich in what had been done. It's true he had escaped. Very good. But Frans is not like Great Brittin; a man in a livry coat, with 1 arm, is pretty easily known, and caught, too, as I can tell you.
Such was the case with master. He coodn leave Paris, moarover, if he would. What was to become, in that case, of his bride--his unchbacked hairis? He knew that young lady's temprimong (as the Parishers say) too well to let her long out of his site. She had nine thousand a yer.
She'd been in love a duzn times befor, and mite be agin. The Honrabble Algernon Deuceace was a little too wide awake to trust much to the constnsy of so very inflammable a young creacher. Heavn bless us, it was a marycle she wasn't earlier married! I do bleave (from suttn seans that past betwigst us) that she'd have married me, if she hadn't been sejuiced by the supearor rank and indianuity of the genlmn in whose survace I was.
Well, to use a commin igspreshn, the beaks were after him. How was he to manitch? He coodn get away from his debts, and he wooden quit the fare objict of his aff.e.c.kshns. He was ableejd, then, as the French say, to lie perdew,--going out at night, like a howl out of a hivy-bush, and returning in the daytime to his roast. For its a maxum in France (and I wood it were followed in Ingland), that after dark no man is lible for his detts; and in any of the royal gardens--the Twillaries, the Pally Roil, or the Lucksimbug, for example--a man may wander from sunrise to evening, and hear nothing of the ojus dunns: they an't admitted into these places of public enjyment and rondyvoo any more than dogs; the centuries at the garden-gates having orders to shuit all such.
Master, then, was in this uncomfrable situation--neither liking to go nor to stay! peeping out at nights to have an interview with his miss; ableagd to shuffle off her repeated questions as to the reason of all this disgeise, and to talk of his two thowsnd a year jest as if he had it and didn't owe a s.h.i.+lling in the world.
Of course, now, he began to grow mighty eager for the marritch.
The Memoirs of Mr. Charles J. Yellowplush Part 13
You're reading novel The Memoirs of Mr. Charles J. Yellowplush Part 13 online at LightNovelFree.com. You can use the follow function to bookmark your favorite novel ( Only for registered users ). If you find any errors ( broken links, can't load photos, etc.. ), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible. And when you start a conversation or debate about a certain topic with other people, please do not offend them just because you don't like their opinions.
The Memoirs of Mr. Charles J. Yellowplush Part 13 summary
You're reading The Memoirs of Mr. Charles J. Yellowplush Part 13. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: William Makepeace Thackeray already has 516 views.
It's great if you read and follow any novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest, hottest novel everyday and FREE.
LightNovelFree.com is a most smartest website for reading novel online, it can automatic resize images to fit your pc screen, even on your mobile. Experience now by using your smartphone and access to LightNovelFree.com
- Related chapter:
- The Memoirs of Mr. Charles J. Yellowplush Part 12
- The Memoirs of Mr. Charles J. Yellowplush Part 14