Chapter 30

by Charles Dickens

　　Festivities are held in honour of Nicholas, who suddenly withdrawshimself from the Society of Mr Vincent Crummles and his TheatricalCompanionsMr Vincent Crummles was no sooner acquainted with the publicannouncement which Nicholas had made relative to the probability ofhis shortly ceasing to be a member of the company, than he evincedmany tokens of grief and consternation; and, in the extremity of hisdespair, even held out certain vague promises of a speedyimprovement not only in the amount of his regular salary, but alsoin the contingent emoluments appertaining to his authorship.Finding Nicholas bent upon quitting the society--for he had nowdetermined that, even if no further tidings came from Newman, hewould, at all hazards, ease his mind by repairing to London andascertaining the exact position of his sister--Mr Crummles was fainto content himself by calculating the chances of his coming backagain, and taking prompt and energetic measures to make the most ofhim before he went away.'Let me see,' said Mr Crummles, taking off his outlaw's wig, thebetter to arrive at a cool-headed view of the whole case. 'Let mesee. This is Wednesday night. We'll have posters out the firstthing in the morning, announcing positively your last appearance fortomorrow.''But perhaps it may not be my last appearance, you know,' saidNicholas. 'Unless I am summoned away, I should be sorry toinconvenience you by leaving before the end of the week.''So much the better,' returned Mr Crummles. 'We can have positivelyyour last appearance, on Thursday--re-engagement for one night more,on Friday--and, yielding to the wishes of numerous influentialpatrons, who were disappointed in obtaining seats, on Saturday.That ought to bring three very decent houses.''Then I am to make three last appearances, am I?' inquired Nicholas,smiling.'Yes,' rejoined the manager, scratching his head with an air of somevexation; 'three is not enough, and it's very bungling and irregularnot to have more, but if we can't help it we can't, so there's nouse in talking. A novelty would be very desirable. You couldn'tsing a comic song on the pony's back, could you?''No,' replied Nicholas, 'I couldn't indeed.''It has drawn money before now,' said Mr Crummles, with a look ofdisappointment. 'What do you think of a brilliant display offireworks?''That it would be rather expensive,' replied Nicholas, drily.'Eighteen-pence would do it,' said Mr Crummles. 'You on the top ofa pair of steps with the phenomenon in an attitude; "Farewell!" on atransparency behind; and nine people at the wings with a squib ineach hand--all the dozen and a half going off at once--it would bevery grand--awful from the front, quite awful.'As Nicholas appeared by no means impressed with the solemnity of theproposed effect, but, on the contrary, received the proposition in amost irreverent manner, and laughed at it very heartily, Mr Crummlesabandoned the project in its birth, and gloomily observed that theymust make up the best bill they could with combats and hornpipes,and so stick to the legitimate drama.For the purpose of carrying this object into instant execution, themanager at once repaired to a small dressing-room, adjacent, whereMrs Crummles was then occupied in exchanging the habiliments of amelodramatic empress for the ordinary attire of matrons in thenineteenth century. And with the assistance of this lady, and theaccomplished Mrs Grudden (who had quite a genius for making outbills, being a great hand at throwing in the notes of admiration,and knowing from long experience exactly where the largest capitalsought to go), he seriously applied himself to the composition of theposter.'Heigho!' sighed Nicholas, as he threw himself back in theprompter's chair, after telegraphing the needful directions toSmike, who had been playing a meagre tailor in the interlude, withone skirt to his coat, and a little pocket-handkerchief with a largehole in it, and a woollen nightcap, and a red nose, and otherdistinctive marks peculiar to tailors on the stage. 'Heigho! I wishall this were over.''Over, Mr Johnson!' repeated a female voice behind him, in a kind ofplaintive surprise.'It was an ungallant speech, certainly,' said Nicholas, looking upto see who the speaker was, and recognising Miss Snevellicci. 'Iwould not have made it if I had known you had been within hearing.''What a dear that Mr Digby is!' said Miss Snevellicci, as the tailorwent off on the opposite side, at the end of the piece, with greatapplause. (Smike's theatrical name was Digby.)'I'll tell him presently, for his gratification, that you said so,'returned Nicholas.'Oh you naughty thing!' rejoined Miss Snevellicci. 'I don't knowthough, that I should much mind his knowing my opinion of him; withsome other people, indeed, it might be--' Here Miss Snevelliccistopped, as though waiting to be questioned, but no questioningcame, for Nicholas was thinking about more serious matters.'How kind it is of you,' resumed Miss Snevellicci, after a shortsilence, 'to sit waiting here for him night after night, night afternight, no matter how tired you are; and taking so much pains withhim, and doing it all with as much delight and readiness as if youwere coining gold by it!''He well deserves all the kindness I can show him, and a great dealmore,' said Nicholas. 'He is the most grateful, single-hearted,affectionate creature that ever breathed.''So odd, too,' remarked Miss Snevellicci, 'isn't he?''God help him, and those who have made him so; he is indeed,'rejoined Nicholas, shaking his head.'He is such a devilish close chap,' said Mr Folair, who had come upa little before, and now joined in the conversation. 'Nobody canever get anything out of him.''What should they get out of him?' asked Nicholas, turning roundwith some abruptness.'Zooks! what a fire-eater you are, Johnson!' returned Mr Folair,pulling up the heel of his dancing shoe. 'I'm only talking of thenatural curiosity of the people here, to know what he has been aboutall his life.''Poor fellow! it is pretty plain, I should think, that he has notthe intellect to have been about anything of much importance to themor anybody else,' said Nicholas.'Ay,' rejoined the actor, contemplating the effect of his face in alamp reflector, 'but that involves the whole question, you know.''What question?' asked Nicholas.'Why, the who he is and what he is, and how you two, who are sodifferent, came to be such close companions,' replied Mr Folair,delighted with the opportunity of saying something disagreeable.'That's in everybody's mouth.''The "everybody" of the theatre, I suppose?' said Nicholas,contemptuously.'In it and out of it too,' replied the actor. 'Why, you know,Lenville says--''I thought I had silenced him effectually,' interrupted Nicholas,reddening.'Perhaps you have,' rejoined the immovable Mr Folair; 'if you have,he said this before he was silenced: Lenville says that you're aregular stick of an actor, and that it's only the mystery about youthat has caused you to go down with the people here, and thatCrummles keeps it up for his own sake; though Lenville says he don'tbelieve there's anything at all in it, except your having got into ascrape and run away from somewhere, for doing something or other.''Oh!' said Nicholas, forcing a smile.'That's a part of what he says,' added Mr Folair. 'I mention it asthe friend of both parties, and in strict confidence. I don't agreewith him, you know. He says he takes Digby to be more knave thanfool; and old Fluggers, who does the heavy business you know, hesays that when he delivered messages at Covent Garden the seasonbefore last, there used to be a pickpocket hovering about the coach-stand who had exactly the face of Digby; though, as he very properlysays, Digby may not be the same, but only his brother, or some nearrelation.''Oh!' cried Nicholas again.'Yes,' said Mr Folair, with undisturbed calmness, 'that's what theysay. I thought I'd tell you, because really you ought to know. Oh!here's this blessed phenomenon at last. Ugh, you little imposition,I should like to--quite ready, my darling,--humbug--Ring up, Mrs G.,and let the favourite wake 'em.'Uttering in a loud voice such of the latter allusions as werecomplimentary to the unconscious phenomenon, and giving the rest ina confidential 'aside' to Nicholas, Mr Folair followed the ascent ofthe curtain with his eyes, regarded with a sneer the reception ofMiss Crummles as the Maiden, and, falling back a step or two toadvance with the better effect, uttered a preliminary howl, and'went on' chattering his teeth and brandishing his tin tomahawk asthe Indian Savage.'So these are some of the stories they invent about us, and bandyfrom mouth to mouth!' thought Nicholas. 'If a man would commit aninexpiable offence against any society, large or small, let him besuccessful. They will forgive him any crime but that.''You surely don't mind what that malicious creature says, MrJohnson?' observed Miss Snevellicci in her most winning tones.'Not I,' replied Nicholas. 'If I were going to remain here, I mightthink it worth my while to embroil myself. As it is, let them talktill they are hoarse. But here,' added Nicholas, as Smikeapproached, 'here comes the subject of a portion of their good-nature, so let he and I say good night together.''No, I will not let either of you say anything of the kind,'returned Miss Snevellicci. 'You must come home and see mama, whoonly came to Portsmouth today, and is dying to behold you. Led, mydear, persuade Mr Johnson.''Oh, I'm sure,' returned Miss Ledrook, with considerable vivacity,'if you can't persuade him--' Miss Ledrook said no more, butintimated, by a dexterous playfulness, that if Miss Snevelliccicouldn't persuade him, nobody could.'Mr and Mrs Lillyvick have taken lodgings in our house, and shareour sitting-room for the present,' said Miss Snevellicci. 'Won'tthat induce you?''Surely,' returned Nicholas, 'I can require no possible inducementbeyond your invitation.''Oh no! I dare say,' rejoined Miss Snevellicci. And Miss Ledrooksaid, 'Upon my word!' Upon which Miss Snevellicci said that MissLedrook was a giddy thing; and Miss Ledrook said that MissSnevellicci needn't colour up quite so much; and Miss Snevelliccibeat Miss Ledrook, and Miss Ledrook beat Miss Snevellicci.'Come,' said Miss Ledrook, 'it's high time we were there, or weshall have poor Mrs Snevellicci thinking that you have run away withher daughter, Mr Johnson; and then we should have a pretty to-do.''My dear Led,' remonstrated Miss Snevellicci, 'how you do talk!'Miss Ledrook made no answer, but taking Smike's arm in hers, lefther friend and Nicholas to follow at their pleasure; which itpleased them, or rather pleased Nicholas, who had no great fancy fora tete-a-tete under the circumstances, to do at once.There were not wanting matters of conversation when they reached thestreet, for it turned out that Miss Snevellicci had a small basketto carry home, and Miss Ledrook a small bandbox, both containingsuch minor articles of theatrical costume as the lady performersusually carried to and fro every evening. Nicholas would insistupon carrying the basket, and Miss Snevellicci would insist uponcarrying it herself, which gave rise to a struggle, in whichNicholas captured the basket and the bandbox likewise. ThenNicholas said, that he wondered what could possibly be inside thebasket, and attempted to peep in, whereat Miss Snevellicci screamed,and declared that if she thought he had seen, she was sure sheshould faint away. This declaration was followed by a similarattempt on the bandbox, and similar demonstrations on the part ofMiss Ledrook, and then both ladies vowed that they wouldn't move astep further until Nicholas had promised that he wouldn't offer topeep again. At last Nicholas pledged himself to betray no furthercuriosity, and they walked on: both ladies giggling very much, anddeclaring that they never had seen such a wicked creature in alltheir born days--never.Lightening the way with such pleasantry as this, they arrived at thetailor's house in no time; and here they made quite a little party,there being present besides Mr Lillyvick and Mrs Lillyvick, not onlyMiss Snevellicci's mama, but her papa also. And an uncommonly fineman Miss Snevellicci's papa was, with a hook nose, and a whiteforehead, and curly black hair, and high cheek bones, and altogetherquite a handsome face, only a little pimply as though with drinking.He had a very broad chest had Miss Snevellicci's papa, and he wore athreadbare blue dress-coat buttoned with gilt buttons tight acrossit; and he no sooner saw Nicholas come into the room, than hewhipped the two forefingers of his right hand in between the twocentre buttons, and sticking his other arm gracefully a-kimbo seemedto say, 'Now, here I am, my buck, and what have you got to say tome?'Such was, and in such an attitude sat Miss Snevellicci's papa, whohad been in the profession ever since he had first played the ten-year-old imps in the Christmas pantomimes; who could sing a little,dance a little, fence a little, act a little, and do everything alittle, but not much; who had been sometimes in the ballet, andsometimes in the chorus, at every theatre in London; who was alwaysselected in virtue of his figure to play the military visitors andthe speechless noblemen; who always wore a smart dress, and came onarm-in-arm with a smart lady in short petticoats,--and always did ittoo with such an air that people in the pit had been several timesknown to cry out 'Bravo!' under the impression that he was somebody.Such was Miss Snevellicci's papa, upon whom some envious personscast the imputation that he occasionally beat Miss Snevellicci'smama, who was still a dancer, with a neat little figure and someremains of good looks; and who now sat, as she danced,--being rathertoo old for the full glare of the foot-lights,--in the background.To these good people Nicholas was presented with much formality.The introduction being completed, Miss Snevellicci's papa (who wasscented with rum-and-water) said that he was delighted to make theacquaintance of a gentleman so highly talented; and furthermoreremarked, that there hadn't been such a hit made--no, not since thefirst appearance of his friend Mr Glavormelly, at the Coburg.'You have seen him, sir?' said Miss Snevellicci's papa.'No, really I never did,' replied Nicholas.'You never saw my friend Glavormelly, sir!' said Miss Snevellicci'spapa. 'Then you have never seen acting yet. If he had lived--''Oh, he is dead, is he?' interrupted Nicholas.'He is,' said Mr Snevellicci, 'but he isn't in Westminster Abbey,more's the shame. He was a--. Well, no matter. He is gone to thatbourne from whence no traveller returns. I hope he is appreciatedthere.'So saying Miss Snevellicci's papa rubbed the tip of his nose with avery yellow silk handkerchief, and gave the company to understandthat these recollections overcame him.'Well, Mr Lillyvick,' said Nicholas, 'and how are you?''Quite well, sir,' replied the collector. 'There is nothing likethe married state, sir, depend upon it.''Indeed!' said Nicholas, laughing.'Ah! nothing like it, sir,' replied Mr Lillyvick solemnly. 'How doyou think,' whispered the collector, drawing him aside, 'how do youthink she looks tonight?''As handsome as ever,' replied Nicholas, glancing at the late MissPetowker.'Why, there's air about her, sir,' whispered the collector, 'that Inever saw in anybody. Look at her, now she moves to put the kettleon. There! Isn't it fascination, sir?''You're a lucky man,' said Nicholas.'Ha, ha, ha!' rejoined the collector. 'No. Do you think I amthough, eh? Perhaps I may be, perhaps I may be. I say, I couldn'thave done much better if I had been a young man, could I? Youcouldn't have done much better yourself, could you--eh--could you?'With such inquires, and many more such, Mr Lillyvick jerked hiselbow into Nicholas's side, and chuckled till his face became quitepurple in the attempt to keep down his satisfaction.By this time the cloth had been laid under the joint superintendenceof all the ladies, upon two tables put together, one being high andnarrow, and the other low and broad. There were oysters at the top,sausages at the bottom, a pair of snuffers in the centre, and bakedpotatoes wherever it was most convenient to put them. Twoadditional chairs were brought in from the bedroom: Miss Snevelliccisat at the head of the table, and Mr Lillyvick at the foot; andNicholas had not only the honour of sitting next Miss Snevellicci,but of having Miss Snevellicci's mama on his right hand, and MissSnevellicci's papa over the way. In short, he was the hero of thefeast; and when the table was cleared and something warm introduced,Miss Snevellicci's papa got up and proposed his health in a speechcontaining such affecting allusions to his coming departure, thatMiss Snevellicci wept, and was compelled to retire into the bedroom.'Hush! Don't take any notice of it,' said Miss Ledrook, peeping infrom the bedroom. 'Say, when she comes back, that she exertsherself too much.'Miss Ledrook eked out this speech with so many mysterious nods andfrowns before she shut the door again, that a profound silence cameupon all the company, during which Miss Snevellicci's papa lookedvery big indeed--several sizes larger than life--at everybody inturn, but particularly at Nicholas, and kept on perpetually emptyinghis tumbler and filling it again, until the ladies returned in acluster, with Miss Snevellicci among them.'You needn't alarm yourself a bit, Mr Snevellicci,' said MrsLillyvick. 'She is only a little weak and nervous; she has been soever since the morning.''Oh,' said Mr Snevellicci, 'that's all, is it?''Oh yes, that's all. Don't make a fuss about it,' cried all theladies together.Now this was not exactly the kind of reply suited to Mr Snevellicci'simportance as a man and a father, so he picked out the unfortunateMrs Snevellicci, and asked her what the devil she meant by talkingto him in that way.'Dear me, my dear!' said Mrs Snevellicci.'Don't call me your dear, ma'am,' said Mr Snevellicci, 'if youplease.''Pray, pa, don't,' interposed Miss Snevellicci.'Don't what, my child?''Talk in that way.''Why not?' said Mr Snevellicci. 'I hope you don't suppose there'sanybody here who is to prevent my talking as I like?''Nobody wants to, pa,' rejoined his daughter.'Nobody would if they did want to,' said Mr Snevellicci. 'I am notashamed of myself, Snevellicci is my name; I'm to be found in BroadCourt, Bow Street, when I'm in town. If I'm not at home, let anyman ask for me at the stage-door. Damme, they know me at the stage-door I suppose. Most men have seen my portrait at the cigar shopround the corner. I've been mentioned in the newspapers before now,haven't I? Talk! I'll tell you what; if I found out that any manhad been tampering with the affections of my daughter, I wouldn'ttalk. I'd astonish him without talking; that's my way.'So saying, Mr Snevellicci struck the palm of his left hand threesmart blows with his clenched fist; pulled a phantom nose with hisright thumb and forefinger, and swallowed another glassful at adraught. 'That's my way,' repeated Mr Snevellicci.Most public characters have their failings; and the truth is that MrSnevellicci was a little addicted to drinking; or, if the wholetruth must be told, that he was scarcely ever sober. He knew in hiscups three distinct stages of intoxication,--the dignified--thequarrelsome--the amorous. When professionally engaged he never gotbeyond the dignified; in private circles he went through all three,passing from one to another with a rapidity of transition oftenrather perplexing to those who had not the honour of hisacquaintance.Thus Mr Snevellicci had no sooner swallowed another glassful than hesmiled upon all present in happy forgetfulness of having exhibitedsymptoms of pugnacity, and proposed 'The ladies! Bless theirhearts!' in a most vivacious manner.'I love 'em,' said Mr Snevellicci, looking round the table, 'I love'em, every one.''Not every one,' reasoned Mr Lillyvick, mildly.'Yes, every one,' repeated Mr Snevellicci.'That would include the married ladies, you know,' said MrLillyvick.'I love them too, sir,' said Mr Snevellicci.The collector looked into the surrounding faces with an aspect ofgrave astonishment, seeming to say, 'This is a nice man!' andappeared a little surprised that Mrs Lillyvick's manner yielded noevidences of horror and indignation.'One good turn deserves another,' said Mr Snevellicci. 'I love themand they love me.' And as if this avowal were not made in sufficientdisregard and defiance of all moral obligations, what did MrSnevellicci do? He winked--winked openly and undisguisedly; winkedwith his right eye--upon Henrietta Lillyvick!The collector fell back in his chair in the intensity of hisastonishment. If anybody had winked at her as Henrietta Petowker,it would have been indecorous in the last degree; but as MrsLillyvick! While he thought of it in a cold perspiration, andwondered whether it was possible that he could be dreaming, MrSnevellicci repeated the wink, and drinking to Mrs Lillyvick in dumbshow, actually blew her a kiss! Mr Lillyvick left his chair, walkedstraight up to the other end of the table, and fell upon him--literally fell upon him--instantaneously. Mr Lillyvick was no lightweight, and consequently when he fell upon Mr Snevellicci, MrSnevellicci fell under the table. Mr Lillyvick followed him, andthe ladies screamed.'What is the matter with the men! Are they mad?' cried Nicholas,diving under the table, dragging up the collector by main force, andthrusting him, all doubled up, into a chair, as if he had been astuffed figure. 'What do you mean to do? What do you want to do?What is the matter with you?'While Nicholas raised up the collector, Smike had performed the sameoffice for Mr Snevellicci, who now regarded his late adversary intipsy amazement.'Look here, sir,' replied Mr Lillyvick, pointing to his astonishedwife, 'here is purity and elegance combined, whose feelings havebeen outraged--violated, sir!''Lor, what nonsense he talks!' exclaimed Mrs Lillyvick in answer tothe inquiring look of Nicholas. 'Nobody has said anything to me.''Said, Henrietta!' cried the collector. 'Didn't I see him--' MrLillyvick couldn't bring himself to utter the word, but hecounterfeited the motion of the eye.'Well!' cried Mrs Lillyvick. 'Do you suppose nobody is ever to lookat me? A pretty thing to be married indeed, if that was law!''You didn't mind it?' cried the collector.'Mind it!' repeated Mrs Lillyvick contemptuously. 'You ought to godown on your knees and beg everybody's pardon, that you ought.''Pardon, my dear?' said the dismayed collector.'Yes, and mine first,' replied Mrs Lillyvick. 'Do you suppose Iain't the best judge of what's proper and what's improper?''To be sure,' cried all the ladies. 'Do you suppose we shouldn't bethe first to speak, if there was anything that ought to be takennotice of?''Do you suppose they don't know, sir?' said Miss Snevellicci's papa,pulling up his collar, and muttering something about a punching ofheads, and being only withheld by considerations of age. With whichMiss Snevellicci's papa looked steadily and sternly at Mr Lillyvickfor some seconds, and then rising deliberately from his chair,kissed the ladies all round, beginning with Mrs Lillyvick.The unhappy collector looked piteously at his wife, as if to seewhether there was any one trait of Miss Petowker left in MrsLillyvick, and finding too surely that there was not, begged pardonof all the company with great humility, and sat down such a crest-fallen, dispirited, disenchanted man, that despite all hisselfishness and dotage, he was quite an object of compassion.Miss Snevellicci's papa being greatly exalted by this triumph, andincontestable proof of his popularity with the fair sex, quicklygrew convivial, not to say uproarious; volunteering more than onesong of no inconsiderable length, and regaling the social circlebetween-whiles with recollections of divers splendid women who hadbeen supposed to entertain a passion for himself, several of whom hetoasted by name, taking occasion to remark at the same time that ifhe had been a little more alive to his own interest, he might havebeen rolling at that moment in his chariot-and-four. Thesereminiscences appeared to awaken no very torturing pangs in thebreast of Mrs Snevellicci, who was sufficiently occupied indescanting to Nicholas upon the manifold accomplishments and meritsof her daughter. Nor was the young lady herself at all behind-handin displaying her choicest allurements; but these, heightened asthey were by the artifices of Miss Ledrook, had no effect whateverin increasing the attentions of Nicholas, who, with the precedent ofMiss Squeers still fresh in his memory, steadily resisted everyfascination, and placed so strict a guard upon his behaviour thatwhen he had taken his leave the ladies were unanimous in pronouncinghim quite a monster of insensibility.Next day the posters appeared in due course, and the public wereinformed, in all the colours of the rainbow, and in lettersafflicted with every possible variation of spinal deformity, howthat Mr Johnson would have the honour of making his last appearancethat evening, and how that an early application for places wasrequested, in consequence of the extraordinary overflow attendant onhis performances,--it being a remarkable fact in theatrical history,but one long since established beyond dispute, that it is a hopelessendeavour to attract people to a theatre unless they can be firstbrought to believe that they will never get into it.Nicholas was somewhat at a loss, on entering the theatre at night,to account for the unusual perturbation and excitement visible inthe countenances of all the company, but he was not long in doubt asto the cause, for before he could make any inquiry respecting it MrCrummles approached, and in an agitated tone of voice, informed himthat there was a London manager in the boxes.'It's the phenomenon, depend upon it, sir,' said Crummles, draggingNicholas to the little hole in the curtain that he might lookthrough at the London manager. 'I have not the smallest doubt it'sthe fame of the phenomenon--that's the man; him in the great-coatand no shirt-collar. She shall have ten pound a week, Johnson; sheshall not appear on the London boards for a farthing less. Theyshan't engage her either, unless they engage Mrs Crummles too--twenty pound a week for the pair; or I'll tell you what, I'll throwin myself and the two boys, and they shall have the family forthirty. I can't say fairer than that. They must take us all, ifnone of us will go without the others. That's the way some of theLondon people do, and it always answers. Thirty pound a week--it'stoo cheap, Johnson. It's dirt cheap.'Nicholas replied, that it certainly was; and Mr Vincent Crummlestaking several huge pinches of snuff to compose his feelings,hurried away to tell Mrs Crummles that he had quite settled the onlyterms that could be accepted, and had resolved not to abate onesingle farthing.When everybody was dressed and the curtain went up, the excitementoccasioned by the presence of the London manager increased athousand-fold. Everybody happened to know that the London managerhad come down specially to witness his or her own performance, andall were in a flutter of anxiety and expectation. Some of those whowere not on in the first scene, hurried to the wings, and therestretched their necks to have a peep at him; others stole up intothe two little private boxes over the stage-doors, and from thatposition reconnoitred the London manager. Once the London managerwas seen to smile--he smiled at the comic countryman's pretending tocatch a blue-bottle, while Mrs Crummles was making her greatesteffect. 'Very good, my fine fellow,' said Mr Crummles, shaking hisfist at the comic countryman when he came off, 'you leave thiscompany next Saturday night.'In the same way, everybody who was on the stage beheld no audiencebut one individual; everybody played to the London manager. When MrLenville in a sudden burst of passion called the emperor amiscreant, and then biting his glove, said, 'But I must dissemble,'instead of looking gloomily at the boards and so waiting for hiscue, as is proper in such cases, he kept his eye fixed upon theLondon manager. When Miss Bravassa sang her song at her lover, whoaccording to custom stood ready to shake hands with her between theverses, they looked, not at each other, but at the London manager.Mr Crummles died point blank at him; and when the two guards came into take the body off after a very hard death, it was seen to openits eyes and glance at the London manager. At length the Londonmanager was discovered to be asleep, and shortly after that he wokeup and went away, whereupon all the company fell foul of the unhappycomic countryman, declaring that his buffoonery was the sole cause;and Mr Crummles said, that he had put up with it a long time, butthat he really couldn't stand it any longer, and therefore wouldfeel obliged by his looking out for another engagement.All this was the occasion of much amusement to Nicholas, whose onlyfeeling upon the subject was one of sincere satisfaction that thegreat man went away before he appeared. He went through his part inthe two last pieces as briskly as he could, and having been receivedwith unbounded favour and unprecedented applause--so said the billsfor next day, which had been printed an hour or two before--he tookSmike's arm and walked home to bed.With the post next morning came a letter from Newman Noggs, veryinky, very short, very dirty, very small, and very mysterious,urging Nicholas to return to London instantly; not to lose aninstant; to be there that night if possible.'I will,' said Nicholas. 'Heaven knows I have remained here for thebest, and sorely against my own will; but even now I may havedallied too long. What can have happened? Smike, my good fellow,here--take my purse. Put our things together, and pay what littledebts we owe--quick, and we shall be in time for the morning coach.I will only tell them that we are going, and will return to youimmediately.'So saying, he took his hat, and hurrying away to the lodgings of MrCrummles, applied his hand to the knocker with such hearty good-will, that he awakened that gentleman, who was still in bed, andcaused Mr Bulph the pilot to take his morning's pipe very nearly outof his mouth in the extremity of his surprise.The door being opened, Nicholas ran upstairs without any ceremony,and bursting into the darkened sitting-room on the one-pair front,found that the two Master Crummleses had sprung out of the sofa-bedstead and were putting on their clothes with great rapidity,under the impression that it was the middle of the night, and thenext house was on fire.Before he could undeceive them, Mr Crummles came down in a flannelgown and nightcap; and to him Nicholas briefly explained thatcircumstances had occurred which rendered it necessary for him torepair to London immediately.'So goodbye,' said Nicholas; 'goodbye, goodbye.'He was half-way downstairs before Mr Crummles had sufficientlyrecovered his surprise to gasp out something about the posters.'I can't help it,' replied Nicholas. 'Set whatever I may haveearned this week against them, or if that will not repay you, say atonce what will. Quick, quick.''We'll cry quits about that,' returned Crummles. 'But can't we haveone last night more?''Not an hour--not a minute,' replied Nicholas, impatiently.'Won't you stop to say something to Mrs Crummles?' asked themanager, following him down to the door.'I couldn't stop if it were to prolong my life a score of years,'rejoined Nicholas. 'Here, take my hand, and with it my heartythanks.--Oh! that I should have been fooling here!'Accompanying these words with an impatient stamp upon the ground, hetore himself from the manager's detaining grasp, and darting rapidlydown the street was out of sight in an instant.'Dear me, dear me,' said Mr Crummles, looking wistfully towards thepoint at which he had just disappeared; 'if he only acted like that,what a deal of money he'd draw! He should have kept upon thiscircuit; he'd have been very useful to me. But he don't know what'sgood for him. He is an impetuous youth. Young men are rash, veryrash.'Mr Crummles being in a moralising mood, might possibly havemoralised for some minutes longer if he had not mechanically put hishand towards his waistcoat pocket, where he was accustomed to keephis snuff. The absence of any pocket at all in the usual direction,suddenly recalled to his recollection the fact that he had nowaistcoat on; and this leading him to a contemplation of the extremescantiness of his attire, he shut the door abruptly, and retiredupstairs with great precipitation.Smike had made good speed while Nicholas was absent, and with hishelp everything was soon ready for their departure. They scarcelystopped to take a morsel of breakfast, and in less than half an hourarrived at the coach-office: quite out of breath with the haste theyhad made to reach it in time. There were yet a few minutes tospare, so, having secured the places, Nicholas hurried into aslopseller's hard by, and bought Smike a great-coat. It wouldhave been rather large for a substantial yeoman, but the shopmanaverring (and with considerable truth) that it was a most uncommonfit, Nicholas would have purchased it in his impatience if it hadbeen twice the size.As they hurried up to the coach, which was now in the open streetand all ready for starting, Nicholas was not a little astonished tofind himself suddenly clutched in a close and violent embrace, whichnearly took him off his legs; nor was his amazement at all lessenedby hearing the voice of Mr Crummles exclaim, 'It is he--my friend,my friend!''Bless my heart,' cried Nicholas, struggling in the manager's arms,'what are you about?'The manager made no reply, but strained him to his breast again,exclaiming as he did so, 'Farewell, my noble, my lion-hearted boy!'In fact, Mr Crummles, who could never lose any opportunity forprofessional display, had turned out for the express purpose oftaking a public farewell of Nicholas; and to render it the moreimposing, he was now, to that young gentleman's most profoundannoyance, inflicting upon him a rapid succession of stage embraces,which, as everybody knows, are performed by the embracer's layinghis or her chin on the shoulder of the object of affection, andlooking over it. This Mr Crummles did in the highest style ofmelodrama, pouring forth at the same time all the most dismal formsof farewell he could think of, out of the stock pieces. Nor wasthis all, for the elder Master Crummles was going through a similarceremony with Smike; while Master Percy Crummles, with a very littlesecond-hand camlet cloak, worn theatrically over his left shoulder,stood by, in the attitude of an attendant officer, waiting to conveythe two victims to the scaffold.The lookers-on laughed very heartily, and as it was as well to put agood face upon the matter, Nicholas laughed too when he hadsucceeded in disengaging himself; and rescuing the astonished Smike,climbed up to the coach roof after him, and kissed his hand inhonour of the absent Mrs Crummles as they rolled away.