tink," said the gentleman, after some delay, "it vould he very goot if were not for someting."
"Dear me!" cried Mrs Jehu, "that is so exactly my opinion!"
"Den dere is noting more to be said about dat," continued Stanislaus, interrupting her; "and I hope you vill not ask dese deep questions, my dear lady, vich are not at all proper to be answered, and vich put me into de low spirits. Shall ve sing a hymn?"
"By all means," exclaimed the hostess, who immediately made preparations for the ceremony. Hymn-books were introduced, and the servant-maid ordered up, and then a quartet was performed by Mr Levisohn, Mrs Tomkins, her husband, and Betsy. The subject of the song was the courtship of Isaac. Two verses only have remained in my memory, and the manner in which they were given out by the fervent Stanislaus will never be forgotten. They ran thus:—
"Ven Abraham's servant to procure
A vife for Isaac vent,
He met Rebekah, tould his vish,
Her parents gave conshent.
'Shtay,' Satan, my old master, cries,
'Or force shall thee detain.'
'Hinder me not, I vill be gone,
I vish to break my chain.'"
This being concluded, Mr Tomkins asked Mr Levisohn what he had to say in the business line, to which Mr Levisohn replied, "Someting very goot, but should he not vait until after soppare?" whereupon Mr Tomkins gave his lady a significant leer, and the latter retired, evidently to prepare the much desired repast. Then did little Jehu turn confidentially to Stanislaus, and ask him when he meant to deliver that ere conac that he had promised him so long ago.
"Ven Providence, my tear dikkon, paremits—I expect a case of goots at de cushtom-house every day; but my friend vot examins de marchandis, and vot saves me de duties ven I makes it all right mit him, is vary ill, I am sorry for to say, and ve most vait, mit Christian patience, my dear sare, till he get well. You see dat?"
"Oh, yes; that's clear enough. Well, Stanny, I only hope that fellow won't die. I don't think you'd find it so easy to make it all right with any other chap; that's all!"
"I hope he vill not die. Ve mosht pray dat he live, my dear dikkon. I tink it vill be vell if der goot Mr Clayton pray mit der church for him. You shall speak for him."
"Well, what have you done about the Eau de Cologne?" continued Jehu Tomkins. "Have you nailed the fellow?"
"It vos specially about dis matter dat I vish to see you, my dear sare. I persvade der man to sell ten cases. He be very nearly vot you call in der mess. He valk into de Gazette next week. He shtarve now. I pity him. De ten cases cost him ten pounds. I give fifty shilling—two pound ten. He buy meat for de childs, and is tankful. I take ten shillings for my trouble. Der Christian satisfied mit vary little."
"Any good bills in the market, Stanny?"
Stanislaus Levisohn winked.
"Ho—you don't say so," said the deacon. "Have you got 'em with you?"
"After soppare, my dear sare," answered Stanislaus, who looked at me, and winked again significantly at Jehu.
Mrs Tomkins returned, accompanied by the vocal Betsy. The cloth was spread, and real silver forks, and fine cut tumblers, and blue plates with scripture patterns, speedily appeared. Then came a dish of fried sausages and parsley—then baked potatoes—then lamb chops. Then we all sat round the table, and then, against all order and propriety, Mrs Jehu grossly and publicly insulted her husband at his own board, by calling upon the enlightened foreigner to ask a blessing upon the meal.
The company sat down; but scarcely were we seated before Stanislaus resumed.
"I tank you, my tear goot Mrs Tomkins for dat shop mit der brown, ven it comes to my turn to be sarved. It look just der ting."
Mrs Jehu served her guest immediately.
"I vill take a sossage, tear lady, also, if you please."
"And a baked potato?"
"And a baked potato? Yase."
He was served.
"I beg your pardon, Christian lady, have you got, perhaps, der littel pickel-chesnut and der crimson cabbage?"
"Mr Tomkins, go down-stairs and get the pickles," said the mistress of the house, and Tomkins vanished like a mouse on tiptoe.
Before he could return, Stanislaus had eaten more than half his chop, and discovered that, after all, "it was not just the ting." Mrs Jehu entreated him to try another. He declined at first; but at length suffered himself to be persuaded. Four chops had graced the dish originally; the remaining two were divided equally between the lady and myself. I begged that my share might be left for the worthy host, but receiving a recommendation from his wife "not to mind him," I said no more, but kept Mr Stanislaus Levisohn in countenance.
"I hope you'll find it to your liking, Mr Stukely," said our hostess.
"Mishter vat?" exclaimed the foreigner, looking quickly up. "I tink I"——
"What is the matter, my dear sir?" enquired the lady of the house.
"Noting, my tear friend, I tought der young gentleman vos a poor unconverted sinner dat I met a long time ago. Dat is all. Ve talk of someting else."
Has the reader forgotten the dark-visaged individual, who at the examination of my lamented father before the Commissioners of Bankruptcy made his appearance in company with Mr Levy and the ready Ikey? Him I mean of the vivid imagination, who swore to facts which were no facts at all, and whom an unpoetic jury sentenced to vile imprisonment for wilful perjury? There he sat, transformed into a Pole, bearded and whiskered, and the hair of his head close clipped, but in every other regard the same as when the constable invited him to forsake a too prosaic and ungrateful world: and had Mr Levisohn been wise and guarded, the discovery would never have been made by me; for we had met but once before, then only for a short half hour, and under agitating circumstances. But my curiosity and attention once roused by his exclamation, it was impossible to mistake my man. I fixed my eye upon him, and the harder he pulled at his chop, and the more he attempted to evade my gaze, the more satisfied was I that a villain and an impostor was seated amongst us. Thinking, absurdly enough, to do my host and hostess a lasting service, I determined without delay to unmask the pretended saint, and to secure his victims from the designs he purposed.
"Mr Levisohn," I said immediately, "you have told the truth—we have met before."
"Nevare, my tear friend, you mistake; nevare in my life, upon my vurd."
"Mrs Tomkins," I continued, rising, "I should not be worthy of your hospitality if I did not at once make known to you the character of that man. He is a convicted criminal. I have myself known him to be guilty of the grossest practices." Mr Levisohn dropped his chop, turned his greasy face up, and then looked round the room, and endeavoured to appear unconcerned, innocent, and amazed all at once. At this moment Jehu entered the room with the pickles, and the face of the deaconess grew fearfully stern.
"Were you ever in the Court of Bankruptcy, Mr Levisohn?" I continued.
"I have never been out of London, my good sare. You labour under de mistake.—I excuse you. Ah!" he cried our suddenly, as if a new idea had struck him very hard; "I see now vot it is. I explain. You take me for somebody else."
"I do not, sir. I accuse you publicly of having committed perjury of the most shameless kind, and I can prove you guilty of the charge. Do you know a person of the name of Levy?"
Mr Stanislaus looked to the ceiling after the manner of individuals who desire, or who do not desire, as the case may be, to call a subject to remembrance. "No," he