Tales of the Wonder Club Volume II Part 39

Now lie for ever side by side Th' undying chief and his dead bride.

Zuleika's palfrey wanders home, Alas! without its gentle freight.

El Amin hath set out to roam For tidings of his daughter's fate.

Ne'er more to see her was his lot; The Genii guards that haunted spot, And close where his Zuleika lay, The chieftain lingers to this day.

Scarce had the last word of the song died in the echo, than unbounded applause once more shook the old panelled walls of the "Headless Lady."

After which Mr. Oldstone, rising and seizing the young poet by the hand, poured forth so warm an eulogium on his poetical talent as to make that young gentleman blush up to the roots of his hair.

The laurel crown was even hinted at again. This, however, Mr. Parna.s.sus modestly but firmly refused, saying that he could not sit crowned in the midst of such a talented a.s.sembly merely because his weak endeavours to entertain the company were given out in rhyme instead of in prose; besides which, he added, that he had merely paid the forfeit agreed upon for losing at chess, and that he was ent.i.tled to no thanks or marks of honour for merely discharging his debt.

The laurel tree outside was therefore suffered to continue its growth until some future occasion, and after various comments on our friend Parna.s.sus' poem, and much pleasant conversation, the company broke up for the night, and each lighting his candle, retired to his own chamber.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER VI.

A TALE OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.--THE BARBER'S STORY.

The following morning broke fine but frosty, and the members of the club being up sufficiently early for that time of the year, they all agreed to take a long stroll before breakfast in the adjacent wood. Indeed, the members of our club lived so thoroughly in an atmosphere of punch and tobacco-smoke that an outing every now and then was requisite in order to air their brains.

They strolled out, accordingly, by twos and threes, pa.s.sing over fields glittering with h.o.a.r-frost, until they came to a stile, which having crossed over, they found themselves immediately in a wood.

It was a fine old place--that same ancient piece of woodland, where huge oaks and beeches were interspersed with the fir, pine and birch. The fantastic roots that shot out from the gnarled trunks of the majestic oaks, like giants' limbs writhing in mortal agony, were coated here and there in broad irregular patches of dank moss and variously-tinted lichen. Their distorted colossal branches, stripped of their leaves and silvered at their extremities with the h.o.a.r-frost, seemed struggling to catch the first beams of a winter sun, while the shadowy outline of the misty purple ma.s.s of distant trees brought out in bolder relief and more vigorous hue the foreground thickly strewed with richly-tinted leaves of russet, scarlet and orange. The dank fungus, luxuriant in its foul growth, emerged from the velvet moss as if to outvie in glow the variegated richness of the dried leaves of the forest.

It was a scene to awaken the soul of a poet, to inspire a landscape painter with increased love of his art; and as our two friends McGuilp and Parna.s.sus strolled arm-in-arm together through this region of enchantment, leaving their footprints in the crisp frost, which they traversed with the buoyant footsteps of youth, leaving the elder members considerably in the rear, each felt himself drawn towards the other by a bond of common sympathy. It is not necessary to record every expression of enthusiasm that escaped the lips of our two friends, nor to follow minutely the philosophic meditations of the more mature members of the club who brought up the rear, as at every step the scene unfolded new and fresh beauties to their view.

Let it suffice our reader that their morning's walk proved highly beneficial to them all, for they returned with marvellous appet.i.tes to the inn, where a sumptuous breakfast of eggs and bacon, coffee, hot rolls, etc., had just been spread for them by the fair hands of our Helen, who waited to greet them on the doorstep.

The usual merry bantering from each member of the club in turn succeeded, as a matter of course, and was replied to on Helen's part by a pretty rustic coyness or smart repartee. Our artist thought he had never seen her look to such advantage as now, glowing in the full morning light. He noticed, too, that she was more sprucely dressed than usual. What could it mean? As he asked himself this question, the church bells of the village began to chime. The mystery was out--it was Sunday, and McGuilp's hopes of a sitting fell to the ground.

"How say you--Sunday again?" exclaimed Mr. Oldstone, as he sat down to his hot coffee. "Dear me! how the week has pa.s.sed away!" Then pa.s.sing his hand over his chin, he said, "I omitted to shave this morning. My hand shook so, owing to the stiffness of my night-cap last night before I went to roost. It will not do to appear at church with a chin like Hamlet's 'fretful porcupine,' and as I cannot shave myself, I must inquire if there be not someone skilled in the n.o.ble science of barber-craft in the village. How say you, Helen, my girl, know you not some knight of the razor, some nimble and expert mower, who will rid me of this crop without finding it necessary to combine the art of the leech at the same time?"

"Aye, sir," answered Helen; "there is young Master Suds, the village barber, successor to Old Hackchin, whom folks say never was much account. Young Suds is lately from France, where he has been improving himself in his art. He has introduced into the village all sorts of new modes for tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the hair and wigs, with numerous other French novelties. You would be sure to be pleased with him, sir."

"Humph!" muttered Mr. Oldstone, who was much too old-fashioned an English gentleman to be over partial to our friends across the channel.

"I don't want my head frizzled, thank you, but a firm, steady, English hand to shave me--a man that is not above his business, and who will not bore me to death with his gossip."

"Oh, as to that, sir," replied Helen, "it is part of a barber's profession. Many folks think it a recommendation. I am sure our villagers are delighted with his store of news."

"No doubt, no doubt," said Oldstone, testily. "He had better cut it short, though, with me. However, send for this young blade, and tell him I wish to see a sample of his art. I shall be ready for him directly after breakfast."

And off tripped our landlord's pretty daughter in obedience to the antiquary's orders.

"'Pon my life! Crucible, this bacon is delicious," said he, helping himself afresh. "What say you, Blackdeed?"

Both gentlemen acquiesced, as did also the other members in turn.

"And the eggs divine," said Dr. Bleedem, bolting one at a mouthful.

"Excellent," joined in McGuilp and Parna.s.sus, filling their plates.

The meal pa.s.sed off pleasantly, and the last member at table had scarcely wiped his mouth with his napkin when Master Suds was announced.

"Here, Helen, my dear," said Oldstone, "you may clear away now, and then you may call in your gallant. I am sure you will excuse me, gentlemen, for making you spectators to my operation?"

"Certainly," answered the club all round.

"There, that will do, Helen; now call him in."

Helen disappeared with the breakfast things, when a timid knock at the door was heard.

"Come in," roared sundry voices at once, and Master Suds appeared upon the scene, with his shaving tackle in a bag, and having his hair frizzled up in a caricature of the latest French fashion.

"Bong jour, Mounseers," he began, with a flourish.

"Don't mounseer me, you young whipper-snapper," said the antiquary; "but learn to speak the king's English when Englishmen honour you with their custom."

"Pardong, mounseer--that is, I mean, I beg pardon, gentlemen; but habit, gentlemen--habit, you know--is rather difficult to get rid of, and when one has just come from foreign parts, like myself, one is apt to----"

"Cut it short, young shaver," said Oldstone, "and bend you to your task.

Are your razors sharp?"

"Mais oui, mounseer--that is----"

"If I catch you mounseering me again, I'll make that French pate of thine and this English fist acquainted, so mind," said the insulted antiquary.

This terrible threat imposed temporary silence on our knight of the lather, who soaped and sudded away for a time without a word.

During this pause the spectators of the operation, who were seated or standing about the room, conversed together in groups in an undertone.

Mr. Blackdeed and Mr. Crucible appeared to be particularly engrossed in conversation, but the tone they spoke in was inaudible to the ordinary listener. Not so, however, to Mr. Oldstone, whose ears were unusually sharp, and rendered more so on the present occasion from the position of forced quiet that he was obliged to maintain under the barber's hands.

To judge by the tragedian's action, a looker-on might have supposed him quoting from one of his own melodramas, and imagined him to say, "Fly with me, dearest; leave for ever the roof of a tyrant father, and take shelter in the heart of one who is ready to lay down his life for thy sake." While Mr. Crucible might have been supposed to be rehearsing the lady's part, and to say, "Oh! tempt me not, Alonso; you know him not. I dare not fly with thee."

The ears of Mr. Oldstone, however, interpreted the gesticulations in a very different manner. Nothing could be more plain to the ears of this worthy than these words from the tragedian. "The political state of France will be a great interruption to all kinds of business." He could hardly believe his ears, or that anyone could dare to use such treasonable words within the sacred precincts of the club, so he listened again, and this time caught a few disconnected words in Mr.

Crucible's tone of voice, such as 'stocks,' 'bonds,' 'premiums,'

'interest,' and the like.

Suddenly the whilom president of the grand saturnalia of the Wonder Club was observed to start violently.

"Why, you rascal, you've cut me!" he cried to the barber.

"Pardong Mounseer, mais ce n'etait pas ma faute," said the confused barber.