The Adventures of a Three-Guinea Watch Part 30

The compensation balance, keyless, air-tight, seven-guinea grandee was the next to be put up, and the first bid for him was 1 10s.

"That I should have lived to hear that!" I heard the poor creature gasp.

"And if he's a teetotaler," I murmured, by way of encouragement, "that only means 1 8 shillings 6 pence!"

"Scoffer! be silent and leave me to my misery," said the keyless one, in a solemn tone.

The bidding improved considerably. He was run up to 2, 2 10 shillings, 3, 3 10 shillings, and finally to 4.

"Nothing more for this very magnificent watch?" said the auctioneer; "I positively cannot let him go for a song."

No answer.

"I wish gentlemen would take the trouble to look at it," continued the persevering official; "they could not fail to see it was worth twice the money bid."

Still no answer.

"Did I understand you to bid four five, sir?" said the auctioneer to an innocent-looking stripling near the door. "Thank you."

The stripling, however, disclaimed the soft impeachment, and looked very guilty as he did so.

"Well, there seems no help for it. I wish I were down among you gentlemen. I'd take good care not to lose this chance."

No answer.

"Then I must knock it down. Going, going, gone, sir; it's yours, and dirt cheap, too."

All this was encouraging for me. If a seven-guinea watch goes for four pounds, for how much will a three-guinea one go?

This was a problem which I feebly endeavoured to solve as I lay waiting my turn.

It came at last. I felt myself lifted on high, and heard my merits p.r.o.nounced in the words of the catalogue.

"Lot 68. London made, lever, open-face watch, capped and jewelled, in very fine order."

"Look for yourselves, gentlemen."

The gentlemen did look for themselves, and complimented me by a preliminary bid of 15 shillings.

The auctioneer laughed a pleasant laugh, as much as to say, "That is a capital joke," and waited for the next bid.

It was not long in coming, and I advanced rapidly by half-crowns to thirty shillings. Here I made sure I should stop, for this was the figure at which the p.a.w.nbroker himself had valued me. But no; such are the vagaries of an auction, I went on still, up to 2, and from that to 2 10 shillings. Surely there was some mistake. I looked out to see who they were who were thus bidding for me, and fancied I detected in that scrutiny the secret of my unexpected value.

It was a countryman bidding--endeavouring in his downright way to become my possessor, and wholly unconscious of the array of Jews against him, who bid him up from half-crown to half-crown until I had nearly reached my original value.

"Three pounds," at last said one of the Jews.

The countryman had evidently come to the end of his tether, and did not answer the challenge.

"Three pounds," said the auctioneer; "you're not going to stop, sir?"

The countryman said nothing.

"Try once more," said the auctioneer; but the rustic was silent.

"Three pounds; no more? Going, going--"

"Guineas!" roared the countryman, at the last moment.

"Thank you, sir; I thought you were not going to be beaten. Three guineas, gentlemen; who says more? n.o.body? Going, then, to you, sir; going, going, gone!"

And so, once more, I changed masters.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

HOW, AFTER MUCH CEREMONY, I FOUND MYSELF IN THE POCKET OF A GENIUS.

Muggerbridge is a straggling, picturesque little midland village, with one princ.i.p.al street, an old church, a market-place, and a pound. Its population, all told, does not number a thousand, the majority of whom are engaged in agriculture; its houses are for the most part old- fashioned and poor, though clean; and altogether its general character and appearance combine to proclaim the village an unpretending English hamlet, with nothing whatever but its name to distinguish it from a hundred others like it.

It was here I found myself duly installed in the window of the village jeweller's--held out as a bait to the purses of Muggerbridge. The countryman who had purchased me was a big enough man in his own place, though very little had been made of him in the "Central Mart." He was jeweller, silversmith, church warden, postmaster, and special Muggerbridge correspondent to the London _Thunderbolt_ all in one here, and appeared to be aware of his acc.u.mulated dignities!

It was his custom twice a year to visit London for the purpose of replenishing his stock. It was the common talk of the place that he always returned from such expeditions with prodigies of bargains, which went far to encourage the popular tradition as to the prodigal wealth of the metropolis. People who knew him in town, on the other hand, always laughed at him, and were unkind enough to hint that he never by any chance bought an article at less than its full price, and often paid an extremely fanciful ransom for his purchases.

The churchwarden and postmaster of Muggerbridge would have been very indignant had such an insinuation ever reached his ears. It never did, happily, and the worthy man was consequently always well satisfied with his purchases; which--whatever he gave for them--he always contrived to sell at a very respectable profit.

It was with a view to this profit that I found myself looking out of Mr Argent's window, in the High Street of Muggerbridge, with a ticket round my neck, conveying the (to me) very gratifying information that "this superb watch was to be disposed of for the moderate amount of 4 10 shillings only," and a parenthesis below further indulged my vanity by volunteering the information that I was worth 6. It _did_ occur to me to wonder why, if I was worth 6, Mr Argent should be such a donkey as to sell me for only three-quarters of that sum. Either he was a very benevolent man, or he was in immediate want of 4 10 shillings, or he had his doubts as to my alleged value. I somehow fancied the last was the true reason, and was half afraid he was right too.

Well, I looked out of Mr Argent's windows for two months, and by that time became acquainted with nearly all the inhabitants of Muggerbridge.

On my first arrival I was an object of a good deal of curiosity and admiration, for any change in a country shop window is an excitement, and when that change takes the form of a 6 "superb" watch offered for 4 10 shillings, it was no wonder the honest Muggerbridgians gaped in at me and read my label.

But in a very little time familiarity had bred contempt, and I lay almost unheeded by the outside world. The grocer opposite, with his triumphal arch of jam-pots monopolised all the wonder, and most of the admiration, and I had the mortification of seeing pa.s.sers turn their backs on me, and step over the way to contemplate that vulgar structure.

I had, however, one or two constant admirers. One of these was a youth, scarcely more than a boy, with a very pale, thoughtful face. He was poorly dressed, but respectable. A book was generally tucked under his arm, and very often I could see his lips moving, as if repeating something to himself.

He paid me more attention than anybody. Every time he pa.s.sed the shop he halted and looked at me, as I thought, wistfully, and usually appeared relieved to find me still in my place.

"George Reader's took a fancy to the new watch, I can see," I heard Mr Argent say one day to his wife.

He spoke, let me observe, in a very broad country dialect, which I do not feel equal to reproducing here.

"Poor lad!" said Mrs Argent; "I dare say he'd like to have it in his pocket when he goes to college."

"He is going, then?"

"Yes, for certain; the clergyman says it would be a sin for a boy of his cleverness not to go, and so I think."