"Neither," said Barnabas.
"Why, then, we 'ave some rare old burgundy, sir--'ighly esteemed by
connysoors and (cough again) other--gentlemen."
"No, thank you."
"On the other 'and--to suit 'umbler tastes, we 'ave,"--here the
waiter closed his eyes, sighed, and shook his head--"ale, sir,
likewise beer, small and otherwise."
"Nothing, thank you," said Barnabas; "and you will observe the door
is still where it was."
"Door, sir, yessir--oh, certainly, sir!" said he, and stalked out of
the room.
Then Barnabas set a sheet of paper before him, selected a pen, and
began to write as follows:-George Inn,
Borough.
June 2, 18--.
To VISCOUNT DEVENHAM, MY DEAR DICK,--I did not think to be asking favors
of you so soon, but--(here a blot).
"Confound it!" exclaimed Barnabas, and taking out his penknife he
began to mend the spluttering quill. But, in the midst of this
operation, chancing to glance out of the window, he espied a
long-legged gentleman with a remarkably fierce pair of whiskers; he
wore a coat of ultra-fashionable cut, and stood with his booted legs
wide apart, staring up at the inn from under a curly-brimmed hat.
But the hat had evidently seen better days, the coat was frayed at
seam and elbow, and the boots lacked polish; yet these small
blemishes were more than offset by his general dashing, knowing air,
and the untamable ferocity of his whiskers. As Barnabas watched him,
he drew a letter from the interior of his shabby coat, unfolded it
with a prodigious flourish, and began to con it over. Now, all at
once, Barnabas dropped knife and pen, thrust a hand into his own
breast and took thence a letter also, at sight of which he
straightway forgot the bewhiskered gentleman; for what he read was
this:-Dearest and Best of Sisters,--Never, in all this
world was there such an unfortunate, luckless dog as I--were
it not for your unfailing love I should have
made an end of it all, before now.
I write this letter to beg and implore you to grant
me another interview, anywhere and at any time you may
name. Of course you will think it is more money I want--so
I do; I'm always in need of it, and begin to fear
I always shall be. But my reasons for wishing this meeting
are much more than this--indeed, most urgent!
(this underlined). I am threatened by a GRAVE DANGER
(this doubly underlined). I am at my wit's end, and
only you can save me, Cleone--you and you only.
Chichester has been more than kind, indeed, a true friend
to me! (this also underlined). I would that you could
feel kinder towards him.
This letter must reach you where none of your
guardian's spies can intercept it; your precious Captain
has always hated me, damn him! (this scratched out).
Oh, shame that he, a stranger, should ever have been
allowed to come between brother and sister. I shall
journey down to Hawkhurst to see you and shall stay
about until you can contrive to meet me. Chichester
may accompany me, and if he should, try to be kinder
to your brother's only remaining friend. How different
are our situations! you surrounded by every luxury,
while I--yet heaven forbid I should forget my manhood
and fill this letter with my woes. But if you ever loved
your unfortunate brother, do not fail him in this, Cleone.