The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 197: what you’re looking at

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180 THE MYSTERIES. at the door; and Meagles, as if to inspire the indi- vidual with courage, shouted out “Come in!” at the very top of his voice. The door opened slowly—and an elderly woman, dressed in black, and having a respectable appear- ance, entered the room. “ Well, Mrs. Piggleberry, what news ?” inquired Meagles, as he caught a glimpse of his landlady’s countenance, which was broad, ruddy, and good- tempered in expression. “Nothink partickler, sir,” she answered, in a minciug tone and witha low curtsey: “ leastways it’s of no wery great importance; only Mr. Brog- den, which lives on the second floor front, would be much obleeged if you'd be so kind as to have the goodness to take the trouble to tell Master Wasp to give him his vig—because he's afeard of catch- ing cold if he stays much longer without it.” “His wig!— Mr. Brogden’s wig!” exclaimed Meagles, laughing heartily—his mirth being echoed by that of Lady Letitia Lade. “ Well, it is funny, sir,” said Mrs. Piggleberry, thinking it right to laugh also. “But Master Wasp is a dear delightful boy, and full of sperrets, to be sure. Only if he would be so condescending as to give Mr. Brogden back his vig, I should feel so much obleeged.” “But how came Wasp with the wig at all?” de- manded Meagles. “ Why, my dear good sir,” responded Mrs. Pig- gleberry, approaching the table in a deferential manner, “as Mr. Brogden was a-going up stairs to his room this evening about six o’clock, that sweet playful creetur’ Master Wasp let down a long bit of string over the bannisters on the second floor ; and as the string happened to have a fish-hook at the end, it wery natarally come in contack with Mr Brogden’s-vig. Well, Is’pose, Master Wasp give a pull,—and away went the vig, and Mr. Brogden went up after it—but, behold ye! Master Wasp was indiskiverable. So Mr. Brogden rushes into his room and rings the bell with a wiolence that makes me think the house was a-fire; and I runs up to see where it was a-blazin’. But there wasn’t no fire—only Mr. Brogden’s vig a-missin’—and he, poor gentleman! obleeged to put on his cotton night-cap. So I begged him not to kick up a rumpus, as I know’d Mr. Lade, sir, was with you, and I wouldn’t have you disturbed on no account whatsomever. But as Master Wasp only laughs in his sweet playful way when I ask him about the vig, and as Mr. Brogden says he’ll come down and speak to you, sir, I thought it best just to step in and tell—leastways, to hint that, perhaps Master Wasp won't mind givin’ up the vig if so be you would have the goodness to be so kind as to take the trouble to ask him.” “ Order Wasp to come up to me directly, Mrs. Piggleberry,” exclaimed Meagles, who, as well as the Amazon, had been convulsed with laoghter, dur- ing the whole time the landlady was explaining her second-floor lodger’s misadventure. “ Now pray don’t scold the dear boy, sir!” said the worthy woman in a beseeching tone. “He's such a nice youth—so amiable and all that——” “Well, go down, then, Mrs. Piggleberry,” in- terrupted Meagles, “and tell him that he must take up Mr. Brogden’s wig at once, with a hand- some apology. But wait a moment, my good crea- ture,” added Tim, a thought striking him: “ who's that sanctified-looking gentleman that has taken your third floor ?” “Lord bless ye,sir,” exclaimed Mrs. Piggle- berry, clasping her hands and turning up the whites of her eyes; “that’s a wery pious man—and I do raly think his presence will bring a blessin’ upon my house. He come down into the kitchen this mornin’, sir, and said so many good things to me and Jemimy—that’s the servint-gal, you know, sir— that we both whimpered for an hour; and he gave us some religious tracks, as he calls ’em, sir, and told us to perooze ’em with attention, and they'd be the salwation of us.” “And pray who is this pious gentleman, Mrs, Piggleberry?” asked Meagles, exchanging a sly smile with the Amazon, who was greatly amused by the landlady’s description of her new lodger. “ Well, sir, I can’t say I exactly understand what he is,” was the response: “ but he told me when he took the wacant floor that he was a New Lighé. Perhaps you know what that means, sir?” added Mrs, Piggleberry, in a submissive and deferential tone. “ May Ibe hanged if I do!” exclaimed Meagles. “ But whatis his name ?” “The Rev. Mr. Nathaniel Sneaksby, sir,” an- swored the widow. “ Ah! then he belongs to some religious sect called New Lights,” said Lady Letitia Lade, with amerry laugh. “But what on earth could have induced him to take a lodying in one of the most fashionable quarters of the West End ?” “Well, sir,” answered Mrs. Piggleberry, ad- dressing herself to the Amazon, whom, be it remembered, she invariably called Mr. Lade—for the good widow was too discreet to suffer it to ap- pear that she recognised the sex of her best lodger’s constant companion,—* Well, sir, I raly can’t sa- tisfy you on that pint. But I know that the reveren i gentleman has plenty of money: for he paid me a quarter in advance—and it seems he possesses a good friend in one Salem: because he says, says he, as he counted down the guineas, ‘és all through that blessed Salem I'm able to set up my staff in your taybernacle, my Christian sister.’— So you see, sir, he calls my house a taybernacle, for which I’m wery much obleeged to him: for I know it’s a holy word and carries a blessin’ along with it Ah! Mr. Sneaksby is a wery good man— a wery pious gentleman,” continued the widow, shaking her head solemnly. “This afternoon a fine carriage stops at the door—and a great tall handsome livery-servant helps out two fat old ladies,so magnificently dressed ;—and Mr. Sneaksby comes down into the hall to receive them—and he gives ’em each a buss on both cheeks, which he called ‘ the hiss of peace.” Then he leads them up stairs; and the bell rings. I answer it myself; because just at that moment Jemimy was a-po- lishin’ the fenders and cleaning the sarsepans, and was as black as a tinker and not fit to be seen. So Mr. Sneaksby orders me to get two bottles of wine and some nice sweet biscuits; and one of the ladies gives me a guinea to pay for’em. Well, when I went up again with the wine and the cakes, the reverend gentleman and the two ladies was all three a-cryin’ bitterly, and beatin’ their buzzima, and calling themselves ‘miserable sinners, and ‘ un- savoury wessels’ and ‘flesh-pots of Egypt,’ and a lot of hard names which I don’t recolleck now. It COMIGLROO S COMM