Newton Forster Part 46

"Yes, the first on the left; do you understand?"

"Yes, brother, I do; the first door on the left."

"Very well; then I wish you a good-night."

"Good-night, brother," replied Nicholas, ascending the stairs as John Forster entered his room.

Nicholas arrived at the head of the stairs; but his brain was not very clear. He muttered to himself "I think I'm right--yes, I'm right--the first door--to the right--yes--that's it," and instead of the room to the left, where Newton was, he walked into the one to the right, which appertained to the housekeeper, Mrs Smith.

The old lady was fast asleep. Nicholas threw off his clothes, put out his candle, and stepped into bed without waking the old lady, whom he supposed to be his son, and in a few minutes they snored in concert.

The morning dawned. The watchmen (London nightingales) ceased their notes and retired to their beds. The chimney-sweeps (larks of the metropolis) raised their shrill cry as they paced along with chattering teeth. House-maids and kitchen-maids presented their back views to the early pa.s.sengers, as they washed off the acc.u.mulation of the previous day from the steps of the front door. "Milk below," (certainly much below "proof"), was answered by the a.s.sent of the busy cooks, when a knock at the door of Mrs Smith's room from the red knuckles of the housemaid, awoke her to a sense of her equivocal situation.

At her first discovery that a man was in her bed, she uttered a scream of horror, throwing herself upon her knees, and extending her hands before her in her amazement. The scream awoke Nicholas, who, astonished at the sight, and his modesty equally outraged, also threw himself in the same posture, facing her, and recoiling. Each looked aghast at each: each considered the other as the lawless invader; but before a word of explanation could pa.s.s between them, their countenances changed from horror to surprise, from surprise to anxiety and doubt.

"Why!" screamed the housekeeper, losing her breath with astonishment.

"It is!" cried Nicholas, retreating further.

"Yes--yes--it is--my _dear_ Nicholas!"

"No--it can't be," replied Nicholas, hearing the fond appellation.

"It is--oh yes--it is your poor unhappy wife, who begs your pardon, Nicholas," cried the housekeeper, bursting into tears, and falling into his arms.

"My dear--dear wife!" exclaimed Nicholas, as he threw his arms around her, and each sobbed upon the other's shoulder.

In this position they remained a minute, when Mr John Forster, who heard the scream and subsequent exclamations, and had taken it for granted that his brother had been guilty of some _contre temps_, first wiped the remaining lather from his half-shaved chin, and then ascended to the housekeeper's room from whence the noise had proceeded. When he opened the door, he found them in the position we have described, both kneeling in the centre of the bed embracing and sobbing. They were so wrapped in each other, that they did not perceive his entrance. Mr John Forster stared with amazement for a few seconds, and thus growled out:--

"Why, what are you two old fools about?"

"It's my husband, sir,"--"It's my wife, brother John," cried they, both at once, as the tears coursed down their cheeks.

"Humph!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the lawyer, and he quitted the room.

We must let the reader imagine the various explanations which took place between Nicholas and his truly reformed wife, Newton and his uncle, Amber, and every body in the household, while we narrate the events which had brought about this singular _denouement_.

The reader may recollect that we left Mrs Forster in the lunatic asylum, slowly recovering from an attack of the brain-fever, which had been attended with a relapse. For many weeks she continued in a state of great feebleness, and during that time, when, in the garden, in company with other denizens of this melancholy abode (wishing to be usefully employed), she greatly a.s.sisted the keepers in restraining them, and, in a short time, established that superiority over them, which is invariably the result of a pane intellect. This was soon perceived by Doctor Beddington, who (aware of her dest.i.tute condition) offered her a situation as nurse in the establishment, until the inspecting magistrates should make their appearance, with the promise that she might continue in it afterwards, if she thought proper. This proposal was accepted by Mrs Forster, until she might resolve what course to take, and she soon! became a most invaluable person in the establishment, effecting more by lenient and kind treatment than the keepers were able to do by their violence. So completely changed was Mrs Forster in disposition, that so far from feeling any resentment against those who had been the means of her confinement, she acknowledged to herself that her own conduct had been the occasion of her misfortune, and that those who had contributed to open her eyes to her former insanity, were her best friends. She was humbled, and unhappy; but she kissed the rod. All that she now wished was to find out her husband, and by her future conduct to make reparation for the past. One of the gaolers, at her request, made every inquiry as to the part of England Nicholas had removed; but it was without success. All trace was lost, and Mrs Forster accepted the situation of nurse, until she might be enabled to prosecute her search, or obtain the intelligence which she desired.

For nine months Mrs Forster remained on the establishment, during which time she had saved a sum of money sufficient for her support and travelling expenses. She then resolved to search after her husband, whose pardon for her previous conduct seemed to be the _sine qua non_ for which she continued to exist. She took leave of the doctor; and, strange to say, it was with feelings of regret that she quitted an abode, once the source of horror and disgust: but time reconciles us to every thing, and she made a half promise to Dr Beddington, that if she could not hear any tidings of her husband, or should discover that he was no more, that she would return to the situation.

Mrs Forster directed her course to London; why, or wherefore, she hardly knew; but she had imbibed the idea that the metropolis was the most likely place to meet with him. Her first inquiries were about any families of the name of Forster; but the Directory gave such an enormous list of Forsters, of all trades and callings, and in every situation in life, that she closed it with despair. She had a faint recollection that her husband (who was not very communicative, and least of all to her), had stated that he had a brother alive somewhere; but this was all that she knew. Nevertheless, she set about her task in good earnest, and called upon every one of the name in the middling cla.s.ses of life, to ascertain if they were relations of her husband. There were many in high life whose names and addresses she had obtained from the Red-book; but to them she dared not apply. All she could do was to question the servants; but every answer was unsatisfactory; and Mrs Forster, whose money was nearly expended, had serious thoughts of returning to the lunatic establishment, when the advertis.e.m.e.nt in the newspapers of Mr Scratton, for a housekeeper, which Mr John Forster had desired him to procure, met her, eye. Unwilling to leave London, she applied for, and obtained the situation, having received an excellent character from Doctor Beddington, to whom she had written and explained her views.

Her heart leapt when she discovered that her master's name was Forster; and when she first saw him she could not but persuade herself that there was a family likeness. The germs of hope were, however, soon withered, when Amber, in answer to her inquiries, stated, that Mr Forster had a brother lately dead, who had never been married, and that she never heard of his having another. Her fellow-servants were all as strange as herself; and Mrs Forster (who had a.s.sumed the name of Smith) was obliged to have recourse to that patience and resignation which had been so severely inculcated. The charge of Amber soon proved a source of delight; the control which she had over the household a source of gratification (not as before, for the pleasure of domineering, but for the sake of exercising kindness and forbearance), and Mrs Forster was happy and resigned.

It may be surmised as strange, that during the period which she remained in this capacity, she had never heard mention made of her husband or her son; but it must be remembered that Nicholas had never called upon his brother, and that Newton was in the East Indies; and, moreover, that Mr John Forster was just as little inclined to be communicative as her husband. Indeed, he never came in contact with his housekeeper, except to pay the bills, which was regularly once a month, when he called her down after dinner, and after the accounts were settled, offered her a gla.s.s of wine, as a proof of his being satisfied with her conduct. When Newton and his father arrived at the chambers on the day before the discovery, and were invited to dinner, his note of communication was as laconic as usual.

"Mrs Smith--I have invited two gentlemen to dine with me to-day, six precisely."

"John Forster."

"PS. Let the spare bed be ready."

Mrs Forster prepared every thing as directed, and having done her duties below, retired to her room, where she usually sat with Amber.

She did not therefore see the parties when they entered; and Amber, who had run down to meet her protector, heard nothing during her short stay in the room, to suppose that they were relatives of Mr John Forster.

All that she had to communicate was, that the parties were an elderly gentleman and a very handsome young man.

Yet, even this simple communication caused the pulse of Mrs Forster to accelerate. They might be her husband and her son. It was the first time the spare bed had been ordered. Reflection, however convinced her that her hopes were strung upon too slight a thread; and, musing on the improbability of not having ascertained during a year the fact of her master having so near a relative--moreover, her son was not in existence, she sighed, and dismissed the idea as ridiculous. Before the gentlemen had finished their wine, Amber was in bed, and Mrs Forster invariably sat at the side of it until her own hour of repose had arrived. A certain indefinable curiosity still remained lurking; yet, as she could not gratify it without intrusion (if the strangers were still up), she retired to bed, with the reflection, that all her doubts would be relieved in the morning; and, after lying awake for some hours in a state of suspense, she at last fell into that sound sleep, which is usually produced by previous excitement. How she was awakened from it, the reader has been already informed.

"It's rather awkward, Newton," said Mr John Forster, about ten days afterwards. "I cannot do without your mother, that's certain: but what am I to do with your father? Humph! Well, she must take charge of him as well as Amber. She must teach him--"

"Teach him what, sir?" replied Newton, laughing.

"Teach him what? Why to leave my watch and spectacles alone. I dare not lay them down for a moment."

"I think we may teach him that, sir, if it is all that you require."

"I ask no more: then he may go about the house like a tame rabbit. When will your ship be ready, boy?"

"In about a fortnight, sir. I called upon Captain Oughton the day before yesterday, but he was not at home. His steward gave me the information."

"What is the name of the ship?"

"The Windsor Castle, sir."

"Why all the India ships appear to be called Castles. Your last ship was the Bombay Castle I think?"

"Yes, sir: there are a great many of them so named:--they really are floating castles."

"And full of ladies. You 'castle your queens,' as they do at chess.

Humph!"

A pun from Mr John Forster was a rarity: he never had been known to make one before: and Newton a.s.serts that he never heard him guilty of it afterwards. It deserves, therefore, bad as it was, to be recorded.

VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER SEVEN.

But to stick to my route 'Twill be hard, if some novelty can't be struck out.

Is there no Algerine, no Kamschatkan arrived?

No plenipo-pacha, three tail'd and three wived?

No Russian, whose dissonant, consonant name Almost rattles to fragments the trumpet of fame?

POSTSCRIPT.

By the bye, have you found any friend who can construe That Latin account, t'other day, of a monster?

If we can't get a Russian--and that story in Latin Be not _too_ improper, I think I'll bring that in.

MOORE.