Book 5 — CHAPTER XIII.

THE DÉNOUEMENT OF THE DRAMA.

Why I was arrested, and at whose instance, I knew not; I was too downcast and spirit-broken to inquire. I had, doubtless, divers small debts due to persons with whom I was accustomed to deal; and it seemed to me natural enough, as all men were ungrateful rascals, that all such persons, now that I was known to be penniless, should fall upon me without shame or mercy, demanding their dues. I say I thought such a consummation was natural enough, and I asked no questions of my captor. I let my head drop upon my bosom, and, without resisting or remonstrating, and looking neither to the right nor the left, suffered him to conduct me whither he would.

Our progress was rapid, our journey short; in a few moments I found myself led into a house, and ushered into a lighted apartment.

I looked up, to see into what alderman's hands I had fallen. The reader may judge of my surprise, amounting almost to consternation, when I beheld myself in an elegant saloon, brilliantly lighted, and surrounded by a dozen or more gayly-dressed people of both sexes, among whom was my friend Ebenezer Wild, and two or three others whose countenances seemed familiar, but whom, in my surprise and confusion, I did not immediately recognise.

A maiden, beautiful as the morning, and smiling as if her little heart was dancing out of her eyes, ran from the throng, and seized me by the hands, crying,—

"Now, uncle Zachariah, thee shall pay me what thee owes me, or be turned over to some other creditor!"

I looked upon her in astonishment, and began to fancy I was in a dream.

"What!" said my friend Ebenezer, "don't you know my little Ellen?" And thereupon he added other expressions, but what they were I retain no remembrance of, my wits being utterly amazed and confounded.

To make my confusion still greater, the door suddenly opened, and in rushed my nephew Jonathan, dressed, like a dandy of the first water, in a blue cloth coat with shining buttons, white trousers, and satin waistcoat, and exclaiming "Bravo!" and "Victoria!" as if a very demon of joy and exultation possessed him. As soon as he beheld me he ran forward, snatched one of my hands from the maiden, and, dropping on his knees, cried, with a comical look of contrition,—

"Forgive me all my sins, uncle Zachariah, and I'll behave better for the future."

"Oh thou ungrateful wretch!" said I, "how canst thou look me in the face, having ruined me?"

"Don't say so!" cried Ellen Wild; "you don't know how Jonathan has saved you."

"The deuse he don't!" said Jonathan, jumping up; "why then we've got the play all wrong. I say, uncle, don't look so solemn and wrathful. You are no more ruined than I am, and you are out of the clutches of the harpy!"

"Haven't I been swindled?" said I.

"Unutterably!" said Jonathan; "but, as the swindler has been swindled also, there's no great harm done. Uncle Zachariah, a'n't you satisfied Abel Snipe is a rascal?"

"I am," said I; "but what shall I say of thee?"

"That I have broken the spell the villain cast over your senses," said Jonathan, "and so saved you from the ruin your confidence invited him to attempt. Uncle Zachariah, you think I am as bad as Abel. Now listen to my story. I knew that Abel Snipe was a rogue and hypocrite, but could not make you believe it; I saw that he was daily fleecing you of sums of money under pretence of giving to the poor; that he was artfully goading and inflaming your benevolence into a passion, nay, into a monomania (for, uncle, everybody said you were mad), for his own base purposes; and that, sooner or later, he would strip you of every thing. This I could not make you believe; I resolved you should see it. I turned hypocrite myself, and began to fleece you ten times harder than Abel. The rogue was alarmed; he perceived I was ousting him from his employment—that I had greater facilities for cheating (having more of your affection) than himself. His alarm, added to another feeling which you shall hear all about, brought him into the trap from which cautiousness at first secured him. I convinced him I was as great a rogue as himself, and he then agreed with me—yes, uncle, formally agreed—to join in a plan to strip you of fortune. We arranged the whole scheme from beginning to end—the business, the speculations, the bankruptcy. Abel was to play Sir Smash—his reputation could stand it. The sums received from you were to be handed over to me, and accounted for as lost in bad speculations; to make which appear straight, his books were filled with fictitious sales and purchases, very ingeniously got up. After the grand crash we were to make a division of the plunder, he being content, honest man, to receive one fourth, of which he considered himself secure enough as long as I had any value for good name or fear of the penitentiary. Now you may wonder how such a cautious rogue could be so easily gulled. Here stands the fairy," said Jonathan, pointing to the maid Ellen, "who dazzled the eyes of his wisdom. Yes, uncle, would you believe it? the impudent, the audacious fellow had the vanity to think he had found favour in her eyes, at a time when I had lost favour in those of her father. You must know we had a coolness—that is, father Wild and I; it was about you—that confounded philanthropy—but we'll say nothing of that. I used to communicate with Ellen by letter, and Abel was often my Ganymede. Now, you must know, Ellen is a coquette—'

"Fy, Jonathan!" said the damsel; "it was all that vicious Abel's presumption and folly. Because I was glad to see him, and treated him well, just because he brought me letters—oh, the monster! I soon saw what was running in his head!"

"Yes," said Jonathan, "Ellen's a much smarter girl than people suppose her."

"Oh! you great Quaker bear!" said the maiden.

"Well," continued Jonathan, "she boasted her conquest, and then I saw I had the ogre by the nose. It was this put me upon turning swindler; I had a talk with father Wild, who approved my plan, and Ellen agreed to cultivate Abel's good opinion as far as a smile or two. We affected to quarrel; I began to coquet with another, abusing poor Ellen to Abel as hard as I could, until he was persuaded the breach between us was incurable. Ellen gave him a smile—her papa became condescending. In a word, the rascal thought nothing was wanting to make him the happiest man in the world, save the one full fourth of his patron's estate, and as much more as he could cheat me of. Here was the rock upon which Abel split, and split he has; he is now safe. The moment matters came to a crisis, which was this afternoon, I ran to a magistrate—my friend Jones there" (pointing to an elderly gentleman who had entered with him), "and made confession of our roguery; deposed the whole matter; accused myself and Abel of conspiracy to defraud, and so forth, and so forth; and was admitted to the honourable privileges of evidence for the commonwealth, and allowed to walk about on bail, while my rascally colleague takes up his lodgings in prison. There's the whole story; I have exposed Snipe's rogueries, and secured his conviction; and, what is equally agreeable, I have saved your property. Here, uncle—you called me a viper—I only wanted to make you believe I could be ungrateful, as well as others. By-the-way, that was a plan of father Wild's, to have your friends refuse to assist you; they were let into the secret, and I recommended you to apply to them. Here, uncle, you'll see what a viper I am," he continued, a little impetuously; "here are the deeds for the house; here is a roll of bank-notes I cheated you of, to play the philanthropist; you will be surprised at the amount, but I did spend some, I confess, for there are wretches who deserve our charity. And here, and here, and here you have the property out of which Abel and I conspired to cheat you—at least, the chief part of it; the rest we will soon get possession of, having laid the villain in limbo. Here, uncle Zachariah, take them, and be as philanthropic as you please; we have no fear of you, now your familiar is tied up; take your property, and much good may it do you. As for me, I am content to take Ellen—that is, if you have no objection."

This was a turn of circumstances that confounded me more than ever; and, verily, I knew not whether I was standing on my head or feet. I stood staring Jonathan in the face, without saying a word, until the youth was seized with the idea that the surprise of the thing had turned my wits; at which, being alarmed, he took me again by the hand, and said, with the tears in his eyes,—

"Oh, my dear uncle! do consider it is nothing more than a joke, and that I never meant to offend thee."

"No," said I, "thee did not. Therefore thee shall have it all, and thee shall marry the maiden."

And with that, being seized with uncommon generosity, or perhaps not well knowing what I did, I put into his hands the conveyance of the house, the bank-bills, and other papers which he had given me but a moment before, and turned to leave the house.

"Stay, uncle—I am just going to be married," said he; and "Stay, Zachariah!" said a dozen others; when some one suddenly calling out, "Let him go; he is afraid of being turned out of meeting if he witnesses the ceremony," I was suffered to obey the impulses of the spirit within me, and walk out of the house; which I did without exactly knowing what I was doing.

To tell the honest truth—as, indeed, I have been trying to do all along—I was in a kind of maze and bewilderment of mind, which the first shock of ruin had produced, and which Jonathan's story rather increased than diminished. The effect of this was divided in my brain with the impression of the various proofs of ingratitude and baseness to which the day had given birth, the latter, however, being greatly preponderant. Of one feeling only I had entire consciousness, and that was a hearty disgust of philanthropy, coupled with a sense of shame at having been so basely cheated as I seemed to have been on all sides. I had been cheated out of my senses, as the saying is; and the only cure for me was to be cheated into them again; which was not an agreeable reflection, the whole affair being a reproach on my good sense.

On the whole, I felt very melancholy and lugubrious, and began to have my thoughts of leaving Zachariah Longstraw's body at the first convenient opportunity. The great difficulty was, however, to find a tenement in which I might promise myself content, the disappointment I had experienced in my present adventure having filled me with doubts as to the reality of any human happiness. "At least," said I to myself "I will henceforth look before I leap. I will cast mine eyes about me, I will gird up my loins and look abroad into the human family, and peradventure I shall find some man whose body is worth reanimating. Yea, verily, I will next time be certain I am not putting my soul, as the pickpocket did his hand, into a sack of fish-hooks."

With this resolution on my mind I walked towards my house, and was just about to pass the door, when an adventure befell me which knocked the aforesaid resolution entirely on the head. But before I relate it my conscience impels me to make one remark, which I beg the reader, if he be a man of fortune and blood, to peruse, without excusing himself on the score of its dulness.