Complete Works of Bram Stoker (513 page)

“Ay, ay, sir,” said Jack.

“To come a hundred and seventy miles see a d  —    —  d swab of a rascally lawyer.”

“Ay, ay, sir.”

“I’ll smash him  —  Jack!”

“Yer honour?”

“Get into the chaise again.”

“Well, but where’s Master Charles? Lawyers, in course, sir, is all blessed rogues; but, howsomdever, he may have for once in his life this here one of ‘em have told us of the right channel, and if so be as he has, don’t be the Yankee to leave him among the pirates. I’m ashamed on you.”

“You infernal scoundrel; how dare you preach to me in such a way, you lubberly rascal?”

“Cos you desarves it.”

“Mutiny  —  mutiny  —  by Jove! Jack, I’ll have you put in irons  —  you’re a scoundrel, and no seaman.”

“No seaman!  —  no seaman!”

“Not a bit of one.”

“Very good. It’s time, then, as I was off the purser’s books. Good bye to you; I only hopes as you may get a better seaman to stick to you and be your
walley de sham
nor Jack Pringle, that’s all the harm I wish you. You didn’t call me no seaman in the Bay of Corfu, when the bullets were scuttling our nobs.”

“Jack, you rascal, give us your fin. Come here, you d  —    —  d villain. You’ll leave me, will you?”

“Not if I know it.”

“Come in, then”

“Don’t tell me I’m no seaman. Call me a wagabone if you like, but don’t hurt my feelings. There I’m as tender as a baby, I am.  —  Don’t do it.”

“Confound you, who is doing it?”

“The devil.”

“Who is?”

“Don’t, then.”

Thus wrangling, they entered the inn, to the great amusement of several bystanders, who had collected to hear the altercation between them.

“Would you like a private room, sir?” said the landlord.

“What’s that to you?” said Jack.

“Hold your noise, will you?” cried his master. “Yes, I should like a private room, and some grog.”

“Strong as the devil!” put in Jack.

“Yes, sir-yes, sir. Good wines  —  good beds  —  good  —  ”

“You said all that before, you know,” remarked Jack, as he bestowed upon the landlord another terrific dig in the ribs.

“Hilloa!” cried the admiral, “you can send for that infernal lawyer, Mister Landlord.”

“Mr. Crinkles, sir?”

“Yes, yes.”

“Who may I have the honour to say, sir, wants to see him?”

“Admiral Bell.”

“Certainly, admiral, certainly. You’ll find him a very conversible, nice, gentlemanly little man, sir.”

“And tell him as Jack Pringle is here, too,” cried the seaman.

“Oh, yes, yes  —  of course,” said the landlord, who was in such a state of confusion from the digs in the ribs he had received and the noise his guests had already made in his house, that, had he been suddenly put upon his oath, he would scarcely have liked to say which was the master and which was the man.

“The idea now, Jack,” said the admiral, “of coming all this way to see a lawyer.”

“Ay, ay, sir.”

“If he’d said he was a lawyer, we would have known what to do. But it’s a take in, Jack.”

“So I think. Howsomdever, we’ll serve him out when we catch him, you know.”

“Good  —  so we will.”

“And, then, again, he may know something about Master Charles, sir, you know. Lord love him, don’t you remember when he came aboard to see you once at Portsmouth?”

“Ah! I do, indeed.”

“And how he said he hated the French, and quite a baby, too. What perseverance and sense. ‘Uncle,’ says he to you, ‘when I’m a big man, I’ll go in a ship, and fight all the French in a heap,’ says he. ‘And beat ‘em, my boy, too,’ says you; cos you thought he’d forgot that; and then he says, ‘what’s the use of saying that, stupid?  —  don’t we always beat ‘em?’”

The admiral laughed and rubbed his hands, as he cried aloud,  — 

“I remember, Jack  —  I remember him. I was stupid to make such a remark.”

“I know you was  —  a d  —    —  d old fool I thought you.”

“Come, come. Hilloa, there!”

“Well, then, what do you call me no seaman for?”

“Why, Jack, you bear malice like a marine.”

“There you go again. Goodbye. Do you remember when we were yard arm to yard arm with those two Yankee frigates, and took ‘em both! You didn’t call me a marine then, when the scuppers were running with blood. Was I a seaman then?”

“You were, Jack  —  you were; and you saved my life.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I say I didn’t  —  it was a marlin-spike.”

“But I say you did, you rascally scoundrel.  —  I say you did, and I won’t be contradicted in my own ship.”

“Call this your ship?”

“No, d  —  n it  —  I  —  ”

“Mr. Crinkles,” said the landlord, flinging the door wide open, and so at once putting an end to the discussion which always apparently had a tendency to wax exceedingly warm.

“The shark, by G  —  d!” said Jack.

A little, neatly dressed man made his appearance, and advanced rather timidly into the room. Perhaps he had heard from the landlord that the parties who had sent for him were of rather a violent sort.

“So you are Crinkles, are you?” cried the admiral. “Sit down, though you are a lawyer.”

“Thank you, sir. I am an attorney, certainly, and my name as certainly is Crinkles.”

“Look at that.”

The admiral placed the letter in the little lawyer’s hands, who said,  — 

“Am I to read it?”

“Yes, to be sure.”

“Aloud?”

“Read it to the devil, if you like, in a pig’s whisper, or a West India hurricane.”

“Oh, very good, sir. I  —  I am willing to be agreeable, so I’ll read it aloud, if it’s all the same to you.”

He then opened the letter, and read as follows:  — 

“To Admiral Bell.

“Admiral,  —  Being, from various circumstances, aware that you take a warm and a praiseworthy interest in your nephew, Charles Holland, I venture to write to you concerning a matter in which your immediate and active co-operation with others may rescue him from a condition which will prove, if allowed to continue, very much to his detriment, and ultimate unhappiness.

“You are, then, hereby informed, that he, Charles Holland, has, much earlier than he ought to have done, returned to England, and that the object of his return is to contract a marriage into a family in every way objectionable, and with a girl who is highly objectionable.

“You, admiral, are his nearest and almost his only relative in the world; you are the guardian of his property, and, therefore, it becomes a duty on your part to interfere to save him from the ruinous consequences of a marriage, which is sure to bring ruin and distress upon himself and all who take an interest in his welfare.

“The family he wishes to marry into is named Bannerworth, and the young lady’s name is Flora Bannerworth. When, however, I inform you that a vampyre is in that family, and that if he marries into it, he marries a vampyre, and will have vampyres for children, I trust I have said enough to warn you upon the subject, and to induce you to lose no time in repairing to the spot.

“If you stop at the Nelson’s Arms at Uxotter, you will hear of me. I can be sent for, when I will tell you more.

“Yours, very obediently and humbly,

“JOSIAH CRINKLES.”

“P.S. I enclose you Dr. Johnson’s definition of a vampyre, which is as follows:

“VAMPYRE (a German blood-sucker)  —  by which you perceive how many vampyres, from time immemorial, must have been well entertained at the expense of John Bull, at the court of St. James, where no thing hardly is to be met with but German blood-suckers.”

The lawyer ceased to read, and the amazed look with which he glanced at the face of Admiral Bell would, under any other circumstances, have much amused him. His mind, however, was by far too much engrossed with a consideration of the danger of Charles Holland, his nephew, to be amused at anything; so, when he found that the little lawyer said nothing, he bellowed out,  — 

“Well, sir?”

“We  —  we  —  well,” said the attorney.

“I’ve sent for you, and here you are, and here I am, and here’s Jack Pringle. What have you got to say?”

“Just this much,” said Mr. Crinkles, recovering himself a little, “just this much, sir, that I never saw that letter before in all my life.”

“You  —  never  —  saw  —  it?”

“Never.”

“Didn’t you write it?”

“On my solemn word of honour, sir, I did not.”

Jack Pringle whistled, and the admiral looked puzzled. Like the admiral in the song, too, he “grew paler,” and then Mr. Crinkles added,  — 

“Who has forged my name to a letter such as this, I cannot imagine. As for writing to you, sir, I never heard of your existence, except publicly, as one of those gallant officers who have spent a long life in nobly fighting their country’s battles, and who are entitled to the admiration and the applause of every Englishman.”

Jack and the admiral looked at each other in amazement, and then the latter exclaimed,  — 

“What! This from a lawyer?”

“A lawyer, sir,” said Crinkles, “may know how to appreciate the deeds of gallant men, although he may not be able to imitate them. That letter, sir, is a forgery, and I now leave you, only much gratified at the incident which has procured me the honour of an interview with a gentleman, whose name will live in the history of his country. Good day, sir! Good day!”

“No! I’m d  —    —  d if you go like that,” said Jack, as he sprang to the door, and put his back against it. “You shall take a glass with me in honour of the wooden walls of Old England, d  —    —  e, if you was twenty lawyers.”

“That’s right, Jack,” said the admiral. “Come, Mr. Crinkles, I’ll think, for your sake, there may be two decent lawyers in the world, and you one of them. We must have a bottle of the best wine the ship  —  I mean the house  —  can afford together.”

“If it is your command, admiral, I obey with pleasure,” said the attorney; “and although I assure you, on my honour, I did not write that letter, yet some of the matters mentioned in it are so generally notorious here, that I can afford you information concerning them.”

“Can you?”

“I regret to say I can, for I respect the parties.”

“Sit down, then  —  sit down. Jack, run to the steward’s room and get the wine. We will go into it now starboard and larboard. Who the deuce could have written that letter?”

“I have not the least idea, sir.”

“Well  —  well, never mind; it has brought me here, that’s something, so I won’t grumble much at it. I didn’t know my nephew was in England, and I dare say he didn’t know I was; but here we both are, and I won’t rest till I’ve seen him, and ascertained how the what’s-its-name  —  ”

“The vampyre.”

“Ah! the vampyre.”

“Shiver my timbers!” said Jack Pringle, who now brought in some wine much against the remonstrances of the waiters of the establishment, who considered that he was treading upon their vested interests by so doing.  —  ”Shiver my timbers, if I knows what a
wamphigher
is, unless he’s some distant relation to Davy Jones!”

“Hold your ignorant tongue,” said the admiral; “nobody wants you to make a remark, you great lubber!”

“Very good,” said Jack, and he sat down the wine on the table, and then retired to the other end of the room, remarking to himself that he was not called a great lubber on a certain occasion, when bullets were scuttling their nobs, and they were yard arm and yard arm with God knows who.

“Now, mister lawyer,” said Admiral Bell, who had about him a large share of the habits of a rough sailor. “Now, mister lawyer, here is a glass first to our better acquaintance, for d  —    —  e, if I don’t like you!”

“You are very good, sir.”

“Not at all. There was a time, when I’d just as soon have thought of asking a young shark to supper with me in my own cabin as a lawyer, but I begin to see that there may be such a thing as a decent, good sort of a fellow seen in the law; so here’s good luck to you, and you shall never want a friend or a bottle while Admiral Bell has a shot in the locker.”

“Gammon,” said Jack.

“D  —  n you, what do you mean by that?” roared the admiral, in a furious tone.

“I wasn’t speaking to you,” shouted Jack, about two octaves higher. “It’s two boys in the street as is pretending they’re a going to fight, and I know d  —    —  d well they won’t.”

“Hold your noise.”

“I’m going. I wasn’t told to hold my noise, when our nobs were being scuttled off Beyrout.”

“Never mind him, mister lawyer,” added the admiral. “He don’t know what he’s talking about. Never mind him. You go on and tell me all you know about the  —  the  —  ”

“The vampyre!”

“Ah! I always forget the names of strange fish. I suppose, after all, it’s something of the mermaid order?”

“That I cannot say, sir; but certainly the story, in all its painful particulars, has made a great sensation all over the country.”

“Indeed!”

“Yes, sir. You shall hear how it occurred. It appears that one night Miss Flora Bannersworth, a young lady of great beauty, and respected and admired by all who knew her was visited by a strange being who came in at the window.”

“My eye,” said Jack, “it waren’t me, I wish it had a been.”

“So petrified by fear was she, that she had only time to creep half out of the bed, and to utter one cry of alarm, when the strange visitor seized her in his grasp.”

“D  —  n my pig tail,” said Jack, “what a squall there must have been, to be sure.”

“Do you see this bottle?” roared the admiral.

“To be sure, I does; I think as it’s time I seed another.”

“You scoundrel, I’ll make you feel it against that d  —    —  d stupid head of yours, if you interrupt this gentleman again.”

“Don’t be violent.”

“Well, as I was saying,” continued the attorney, “she did, by great good fortune, manage to scream, which had the effect of alarming the whole house. The door of her chamber, which was fast, was broken open.”

“Yes, yes  —  ”

“Ah,” cried Jack.

“You may imagine the horror and the consternation of those who entered the room to find her in the grasp of a fiend-like figure, whose teeth were fastened on her neck, and who was actually draining her veins of blood.”