Chapter 29

by Charles Dickens

　　Of the Proceedings of Nicholas, and certain Internal Divisions inthe Company of Mr Vincent CrummlesThe unexpected success and favour with which his experiment atPortsmouth had been received, induced Mr Crummles to prolong hisstay in that town for a fortnight beyond the period he hadoriginally assigned for the duration of his visit, during which timeNicholas personated a vast variety of characters with undiminishedsuccess, and attracted so many people to the theatre who had neverbeen seen there before, that a benefit was considered by the managera very promising speculation. Nicholas assenting to the termsproposed, the benefit was had, and by it he realised no less a sumthan twenty pounds.Possessed of this unexpected wealth, his first act was to enclose tohonest John Browdie the amount of his friendly loan, which heaccompanied with many expressions of gratitude and esteem, and manycordial wishes for his matrimonial happiness. To Newman Noggs heforwarded one half of the sum he had realised, entreating him totake an opportunity of handing it to Kate in secret, and conveyingto her the warmest assurances of his love and affection. He made nomention of the way in which he had employed himself; merelyinforming Newman that a letter addressed to him under his assumedname at the Post Office, Portsmouth, would readily find him, andentreating that worthy friend to write full particulars of thesituation of his mother and sister, and an account of all the grandthings that Ralph Nickleby had done for them since his departurefrom London.'You are out of spirits,' said Smike, on the night after the letterhad been dispatched.'Not I!' rejoined Nicholas, with assumed gaiety, for the confessionwould have made the boy miserable all night; 'I was thinking aboutmy sister, Smike.''Sister!''Ay.''Is she like you?' inquired Smike.'Why, so they say,' replied Nicholas, laughing, 'only a great dealhandsomer.''She must be very beautiful,' said Smike, after thinking a littlewhile with his hands folded together, and his eyes bent upon hisfriend.'Anybody who didn't know you as well as I do, my dear fellow, wouldsay you were an accomplished courtier,' said Nicholas.'I don't even know what that is,' replied Smike, shaking his head.'Shall I ever see your sister?''To be sure,' cried Nicholas; 'we shall all be together one of thesedays--when we are rich, Smike.''How is it that you, who are so kind and good to me, have nobody tobe kind to you?' asked Smike. 'I cannot make that out.''Why, it is a long story,' replied Nicholas, 'and one you would havesome difficulty in comprehending, I fear. I have an enemy--youunderstand what that is?''Oh, yes, I understand that,' said Smike.'Well, it is owing to him,' returned Nicholas. 'He is rich, and notso easily punished as your old enemy, Mr Squeers. He is my uncle,but he is a villain, and has done me wrong.''Has he though?' asked Smike, bending eagerly forward. 'What is hisname? Tell me his name.''Ralph--Ralph Nickleby.''Ralph Nickleby,' repeated Smike. 'Ralph. I'll get that name byheart.'He had muttered it over to himself some twenty times, when a loudknock at the door disturbed him from his occupation. Before hecould open it, Mr Folair, the pantomimist, thrust in his head.Mr Folair's head was usually decorated with a very round hat,unusually high in the crown, and curled up quite tight in the brims.On the present occasion he wore it very much on one side, with theback part forward in consequence of its being the least rusty; roundhis neck he wore a flaming red worsted comforter, whereof thestraggling ends peeped out beneath his threadbare Newmarket coat,which was very tight and buttoned all the way up. He carried in hishand one very dirty glove, and a cheap dress cane with a glasshandle; in short, his whole appearance was unusually dashing, anddemonstrated a far more scrupulous attention to his toilet than hewas in the habit of bestowing upon it.'Good-evening, sir,' said Mr Folair, taking off the tall hat, andrunning his fingers through his hair. 'I bring a communication.Hem!''From whom and what about?' inquired Nicholas. 'You are unusuallymysterious tonight.''Cold, perhaps,' returned Mr Folair; 'cold, perhaps. That is thefault of my position--not of myself, Mr Johnson. My position as amutual friend requires it, sir.' Mr Folair paused with a mostimpressive look, and diving into the hat before noticed, drew fromthence a small piece of whity-brown paper curiously folded, whencehe brought forth a note which it had served to keep clean, andhanding it over to Nicholas, said--'Have the goodness to read that, sir.'Nicholas, in a state of much amazement, took the note and broke theseal, glancing at Mr Folair as he did so, who, knitting his brow andpursing up his mouth with great dignity, was sitting with his eyessteadily fixed upon the ceiling.It was directed to blank Johnson, Esq., by favour of AugustusFolair, Esq.; and the astonishment of Nicholas was in no degreelessened, when he found it to be couched in the following laconicterms:--"Mr Lenville presents his kind regards to Mr Johnson, and will feelobliged if he will inform him at what hour tomorrow morning it willbe most convenient to him to meet Mr L. at the Theatre, for thepurpose of having his nose pulled in the presence of the company."Mr Lenville requests Mr Johnson not to neglect making anappointment, as he has invited two or three professional friends towitness the ceremony, and cannot disappoint them upon any accountwhatever."Portsmouth, Tuesday Night."Indignant as he was at this impertinence, there was something soexquisitely absurd in such a cartel of defiance, that Nicholas wasobliged to bite his lip and read the note over two or three timesbefore he could muster sufficient gravity and sternness to addressthe hostile messenger, who had not taken his eyes from the ceiling,nor altered the expression of his face in the slightest degree.'Do you know the contents of this note, sir?' he asked, at length.'Yes,' rejoined Mr Folair, looking round for an instant, andimmediately carrying his eyes back again to the ceiling.'And how dare you bring it here, sir?' asked Nicholas, tearing itinto very little pieces, and jerking it in a shower towards themessenger. 'Had you no fear of being kicked downstairs, sir?'Mr Folair turned his head--now ornamented with several fragments ofthe note--towards Nicholas, and with the same imperturbable dignity,briefly replied 'No.''Then,' said Nicholas, taking up the tall hat and tossing it towardsthe door, 'you had better follow that article of your dress, sir, oryou may find yourself very disagreeably deceived, and that within adozen seconds.''I say, Johnson,' remonstrated Mr Folair, suddenly losing all hisdignity, 'none of that, you know. No tricks with a gentleman'swardrobe.''Leave the room,' returned Nicholas. 'How could you presume to comehere on such an errand, you scoundrel?''Pooh! pooh!' said Mr Folair, unwinding his comforter, and graduallygetting himself out of it. 'There--that's enough.''Enough!' cried Nicholas, advancing towards him. 'Take yourselfoff, sir.''Pooh! pooh! I tell you,' returned Mr Folair, waving his hand indeprecation of any further wrath; 'I wasn't in earnest. I onlybrought it in joke.''You had better be careful how you indulge in such jokes again,'said Nicholas, 'or you may find an allusion to pulling noses rathera dangerous reminder for the subject of your facetiousness. Was itwritten in joke, too, pray?''No, no, that's the best of it,' returned the actor; 'right downearnest--honour bright.'Nicholas could not repress a smile at the odd figure before him,which, at all times more calculated to provoke mirth than anger, wasespecially so at that moment, when with one knee upon the ground, MrFolair twirled his old hat round upon his hand, and affected theextremest agony lest any of the nap should have been knocked off--anornament which it is almost superfluous to say, it had not boastedfor many months.'Come, sir,' said Nicholas, laughing in spite of himself. 'Have thegoodness to explain.''Why, I'll tell you how it is,' said Mr Folair, sitting himself downin a chair with great coolness. 'Since you came here Lenville hasdone nothing but second business, and, instead of having a receptionevery night as he used to have, they have let him come on as if hewas nobody.''What do you mean by a reception?' asked Nicholas.'Jupiter!' exclaimed Mr Folair, 'what an unsophisticated shepherdyou are, Johnson! Why, applause from the house when you first comeon. So he has gone on night after night, never getting a hand, andyou getting a couple of rounds at least, and sometimes three, tillat length he got quite desperate, and had half a mind last night toplay Tybalt with a real sword, and pink you--not dangerously, butjust enough to lay you up for a month or two.''Very considerate,' remarked Nicholas.'Yes, I think it was under the circumstances; his professionalreputation being at stake,' said Mr Folair, quite seriously. 'Buthis heart failed him, and he cast about for some other way ofannoying you, and making himself popular at the same time--forthat's the point. Notoriety, notoriety, is the thing. Bless you,if he had pinked you,' said Mr Folair, stopping to make acalculation in his mind, 'it would have been worth--ah, it wouldhave been worth eight or ten shillings a week to him. All the townwould have come to see the actor who nearly killed a man by mistake;I shouldn't wonder if it had got him an engagement in London.However, he was obliged to try some other mode of getting popular,and this one occurred to him. It's clever idea, really. If you hadshown the white feather, and let him pull your nose, he'd have gotit into the paper; if you had sworn the peace against him, it wouldhave been in the paper too, and he'd have been just as much talkedabout as you--don't you see?''Oh, certainly,' rejoined Nicholas; 'but suppose I were to turn thetables, and pull his nose, what then? Would that make his fortune?''Why, I don't think it would,' replied Mr Folair, scratching hishead, 'because there wouldn't be any romance about it, and hewouldn't be favourably known. To tell you the truth though, hedidn't calculate much upon that, for you're always so mild-spoken,and are so popular among the women, that we didn't suspect you ofshowing fight. If you did, however, he has a way of getting out ofit easily, depend upon that.''Has he?' rejoined Nicholas. 'We will try, tomorrow morning. Inthe meantime, you can give whatever account of our interview youlike best. Good-night.'As Mr Folair was pretty well known among his fellow-actors for a manwho delighted in mischief, and was by no means scrupulous, Nicholashad not much doubt but that he had secretly prompted the tragedianin the course he had taken, and, moreover, that he would havecarried his mission with a very high hand if he had not beendisconcerted by the very unexpected demonstrations with which it hadbeen received. It was not worth his while to be serious with him,however, so he dismissed the pantomimist, with a gentle hint that ifhe offended again it would be under the penalty of a broken head;and Mr Folair, taking the caution in exceedingly good part, walkedaway to confer with his principal, and give such an account of hisproceedings as he might think best calculated to carry on the joke.He had no doubt reported that Nicholas was in a state of extremebodily fear; for when that young gentleman walked with muchdeliberation down to the theatre next morning at the usual hour, hefound all the company assembled in evident expectation, and MrLenville, with his severest stage face, sitting majestically on atable, whistling defiance.Now the ladies were on the side of Nicholas, and the gentlemen(being jealous) were on the side of the disappointed tragedian; sothat the latter formed a little group about the redoubtable MrLenville, and the former looked on at a little distance in sometrepidation and anxiety. On Nicholas stopping to salute them, MrLenville laughed a scornful laugh, and made some general remarktouching the natural history of puppies.'Oh!' said Nicholas, looking quietly round, 'are you there?''Slave!' returned Mr Lenville, flourishing his right arm, andapproaching Nicholas with a theatrical stride. But somehow heappeared just at that moment a little startled, as if Nicholas didnot look quite so frightened as he had expected, and came all atonce to an awkward halt, at which the assembled ladies burst into ashrill laugh.'Object of my scorn and hatred!' said Mr Lenville, 'I hold ye incontempt.'Nicholas laughed in very unexpected enjoyment of this performance;and the ladies, by way of encouragement, laughed louder than before;whereat Mr Lenville assumed his bitterest smile, and expressed hisopinion that they were 'minions'.'But they shall not protect ye!' said the tragedian, taking anupward look at Nicholas, beginning at his boots and ending at thecrown of his head, and then a downward one, beginning at the crownof his head, and ending at his boots--which two looks, as everybodyknows, express defiance on the stage. 'They shall not protect ye--boy!'Thus speaking, Mr Lenville folded his arms, and treated Nicholas tothat expression of face with which, in melodramatic performances, hewas in the habit of regarding the tyrannical kings when they said,'Away with him to the deepest dungeon beneath the castle moat;' andwhich, accompanied with a little jingling of fetters, had been knownto produce great effects in its time.Whether it was the absence of the fetters or not, it made no verydeep impression on Mr Lenville's adversary, however, but ratherseemed to increase the good-humour expressed in his countenance; inwhich stage of the contest, one or two gentlemen, who had come outexpressly to witness the pulling of Nicholas's nose, grew impatient,murmuring that if it were to be done at all it had better be done atonce, and that if Mr Lenville didn't mean to do it he had better sayso, and not keep them waiting there. Thus urged, the tragedianadjusted the cuff of his right coat sleeve for the performance ofthe operation, and walked in a very stately manner up to Nicholas,who suffered him to approach to within the requisite distance, andthen, without the smallest discomposure, knocked him down.Before the discomfited tragedian could raise his head from theboards, Mrs Lenville (who, as has been before hinted, was in aninteresting state) rushed from the rear rank of ladies, and utteringa piercing scream threw herself upon the body.'Do you see this, monster? Do you see this?' cried Mr Lenville,sitting up, and pointing to his prostrate lady, who was holding himvery tight round the waist.'Come,' said Nicholas, nodding his head, 'apologise for the insolentnote you wrote to me last night, and waste no more time in talking.''Never!' cried Mr Lenville.'Yes--yes--yes!' screamed his wife. 'For my sake--for mine,Lenville--forego all idle forms, unless you would see me a blightedcorse at your feet.''This is affecting!' said Mr Lenville, looking round him, anddrawing the back of his hand across his eyes. 'The ties of natureare strong. The weak husband and the father--the father that is yetto be--relents. I apologise.''Humbly and submissively?' said Nicholas.'Humbly and submissively,' returned the tragedian, scowling upwards.'But only to save her,--for a time will come--''Very good,' said Nicholas; 'I hope Mrs Lenville may have a goodone; and when it does come, and you are a father, you shall retractit if you have the courage. There. Be careful, sir, to whatlengths your jealousy carries you another time; and be careful,also, before you venture too far, to ascertain your rival's temper.'With this parting advice Nicholas picked up Mr Lenville's ash stickwhich had flown out of his hand, and breaking it in half, threw himthe pieces and withdrew, bowing slightly to the spectators as hewalked out.The profoundest deference was paid to Nicholas that night, and thepeople who had been most anxious to have his nose pulled in themorning, embraced occasions of taking him aside, and telling himwith great feeling, how very friendly they took it that he shouldhave treated that Lenville so properly, who was a most unbearablefellow, and on whom they had all, by a remarkable coincidence, atone time or other contemplated the infliction of condign punishment,which they had only been restrained from administering byconsiderations of mercy; indeed, to judge from the invariabletermination of all these stories, there never was such a charitableand kind-hearted set of people as the male members of Mr Crummles'scompany.Nicholas bore his triumph, as he had his success in the little worldof the theatre, with the utmost moderation and good humour. Thecrestfallen Mr Lenville made an expiring effort to obtain revenge bysending a boy into the gallery to hiss, but he fell a sacrifice topopular indignation, and was promptly turned out without having hismoney back.'Well, Smike,' said Nicholas when the first piece was over, and hehad almost finished dressing to go home, 'is there any letter yet?''Yes,' replied Smike, 'I got this one from the post-office.''From Newman Noggs,' said Nicholas, casting his eye upon the crampeddirection; 'it's no easy matter to make his writing out. Let mesee--let me see.'By dint of poring over the letter for half an hour, he contrived tomake himself master of the contents, which were certainly not of anature to set his mind at ease. Newman took upon himself to sendback the ten pounds, observing that he had ascertained that neitherMrs Nickleby nor Kate was in actual want of money at the moment, andthat a time might shortly come when Nicholas might want it more. Heentreated him not to be alarmed at what he was about to say;--therewas no bad news--they were in good health--but he thoughtcircumstances might occur, or were occurring, which would render itabsolutely necessary that Kate should have her brother's protection,and if so, Newman said, he would write to him to that effect, eitherby the next post or the next but one.Nicholas read this passage very often, and the more he thought of itthe more he began to fear some treachery upon the part of Ralph.Once or twice he felt tempted to repair to London at all hazardswithout an hour's delay, but a little reflection assured him that ifsuch a step were necessary, Newman would have spoken out and toldhim so at once.'At all events I should prepare them here for the possibility of mygoing away suddenly,' said Nicholas; 'I should lose no time in doingthat.' As the thought occurred to him, he took up his hat andhurried to the green-room.'Well, Mr Johnson,' said Mrs Crummles, who was seated there in fullregal costume, with the phenomenon as the Maiden in her maternalarms, 'next week for Ryde, then for Winchester, then for--''I have some reason to fear,' interrupted Nicholas, 'that before youleave here my career with you will have closed.''Closed!' cried Mrs Crummles, raising her hands in astonishment.'Closed!' cried Miss Snevellicci, trembling so much in her tightsthat she actually laid her hand upon the shoulder of the manageressfor support.'Why he don't mean to say he's going!' exclaimed Mrs Grudden, makingher way towards Mrs Crummles. 'Hoity toity! Nonsense.'The phenomenon, being of an affectionate nature and moreoverexcitable, raised a loud cry, and Miss Belvawney and Miss Bravassaactually shed tears. Even the male performers stopped in theirconversation, and echoed the word 'Going!' although some among them(and they had been the loudest in their congratulations that day)winked at each other as though they would not be sorry to lose sucha favoured rival; an opinion, indeed, which the honest Mr Folair,who was ready dressed for the savage, openly stated in so many wordsto a demon with whom he was sharing a pot of porter.Nicholas briefly said that he feared it would be so, although hecould not yet speak with any degree of certainty; and getting awayas soon as he could, went home to con Newman's letter once more, andspeculate upon it afresh.How trifling all that had been occupying his time and thoughts formany weeks seemed to him during that sleepless night, and howconstantly and incessantly present to his imagination was the oneidea that Kate in the midst of some great trouble and distress mighteven then be looking--and vainly too--for him!