The Struggles of Brown, Jones, and Robinson Part 9

"Oh, but there must."

"It is not within the compa.s.s of things. You, sir, cannot understand me;--your intellectual vision is too limited. And I,--I will not understand you."

"Won't you, by jingo! Then your vision shall be limited, as far as two uncommon black eyes can limit it. But come, Robinson, if you don't want to quarrel, I don't."

"As for quarrelling," said Robinson, "it is the work of children.

Come, Brisket, will you jump with me into yonder river? The first that reaches the further side, let him have her!" And he pointed up Bishopsgate Street towards the Thames.

"Perhaps you can swim?" said Brisket.

"Not a stroke!" said Robinson.

"Then what a jolly pair of fools we should be!"

"Ah-h-h-h! That's the way to try a man's metal!"

"If you talk to me about metal, young man, I'll drop into you.

You've been a-sending all manner of messages to me about a barrel of gunpowder and that sort of thing, and it's my mind that you're a little out of your own. Now I ain't going to have anything to do with gunpowder, nor yet with the river. It's a nasty place is the river; and when I want a wash I shan't go there."

"'Dreadfully staring through muddy impurity!'" said Robinson.

"Impurity enough," continued the other; "and I won't have anything to do with it. Now, I'll tell you what. Will you give me your word, as a man, never to have nothing more to say to Maryanne Brown?"

"Never again to speak to her?"

"Not, except in the way of respect, when she's Mrs. Brisket."

"Never again to clasp her hand in mine?"

"Not by no means. And if you want me to remain quiet, you'd a deal better stow that kind of thing. I'll tell you what it is--I'm beginning to see my way with old Brown."

"Et tu, Brute?" said Robinson, clasping his hands together.

"I'm beginning to see my way with old Brown," continued Brisket; "and, to tell you the truth at once, I don't mean to be interfered with."

"Has--my partner--promised--her hand to you?"

"Yes, he has; and five hundred pounds with it."

"And she--?"

"Oh, she's all right. There isn't any doubt about she. I've just come from she, as you call her. Now that I see my way, she and I is to be one."

"And where's the money to come from, Mr. Brisket?"

"The father 'll stand the money--in course."

"I don't know where he'll get it, then; certainly not out of the capital of our business, Mr. Brisket. And since you are so keen about seeing your way, Mr. Brisket, I advise you to be quite sure that you do see it."

"That's my business, young man; I've never been bit yet, and I don't know as I'm going to begin now. I never moves till I see my way. They as does is sure to tumble."

"Well; see your way," said Robinson. "See it as far as your natural lights will enable you to look. It's nothing to me."

"Ah, but I must hear you say that you renounce her."

"Renounce her, false harpy! Ay, with all my heart."

"But I won't have her called out of her name."

"She is false."

"Hold your tongue, or I'll drop into you. They're all more or less false, no doubt; but I won't have you say so of her. And since you're so ready about the renouncing, suppose you put it on paper--'I renounce my right to the hand and heart of Maryanne Brown.' You've got pen and ink there;--just put it down."

"It shall not need," said Robinson.

"Oh, but it does need. It'll put an end to a world of trouble and make her see that the thing is all settled. It can't be any sorrow to you, because you say she's a false harpy."

"Nevertheless, I love her."

"So do I love her; and as I'm beginning to see my way, why, of course, I mean to have her. We can't both marry her; can we?"

"No; not both," said Robinson. "Certainly not both."

"Then you just write as I bid you," said Brisket.

"Bid me, sir!"

"Well,--ask you; if that will make it easier."

"And what if I don't?"

"Why, I shall drop into you. That's all about it. There's the pen, ink, and paper; you'd better do it."

Not at first did Robinson write those fatal words by which he gave up all his right to her he loved; but before that interview was ended the words were written. "What matters it?" he said, at last, just as Brisket had actually risen from his seat to put his vile threat into execution. "Has not she renounced me?"

"Yes," said Brisket, "she has done that certainly."

"Had she been true to me," continued Robinson, "to do her a pleasure I would have stood up before you till you had beaten me into the likeness of one of your own carcases."

"That's what I should have done, too."

"But now;--why should I suffer now?"

"No, indeed; why should you?"

"I would thrash you if I could, for the pure pleasure."

"No doubt; no doubt."