Lavengro, George Borrow [i love reading books txt] 📗

‘Pay you!’ said Hunter; ‘pay you! Yes, here’s the pay;’ and thereupon he held out his thumb, twirling it round till it just touched my nose. I can’t tell you what I felt that moment; a kind of madhouse thrill came upon me, and all I know is, that I bent back as far as I could, then lunging out, struck him under the ear, sending him reeling two or three yards, when he fell on the floor. I wish you had but seen how my company looked at me and at each other. One or two of the clan went to raise Hunter, and get him to fight, but it was no go; though he was not killed, he had had enough for that evening. Oh, I wish you had seen my customers; those who did not belong to the clan, but who had taken part with them, and helped to jeer and flout me, now came and shook me by the hand, wishing me joy, and saying as how ‘I was a brave fellow, and had served the bully right!’ As for the clan, they all said Hunter was bound to do me justice; so they made him pay me what he owed for himself, and the reckoning of those among them who said they had no money. Two or three of them then led him away, while the rest stayed behind, and flattered me, and worshipped me, and called Hunter all kinds of dogs’ names. What do you think of that?”

“Why,” said I, “it makes good what I read in a letter which I received yesterday. It is just the way of the world.”

“A’n’t it,” said the landlord. “Well, that a’n’t all; let me go on. Good fortune never yet came alone. In about an hour comes home my poor niece, almost in high sterricks with joy, smiling and sobbing. She had been to the clergyman of M⁠⸺, the great preacher, to whose Church she was in the habit of going, and to whose daughters she was well known; and to him she told a lamentable tale about my distresses, and about the snares which had been laid for my soul; and so well did she plead my cause, and so strong did the young ladies back all she said, that the good clergyman promised to stand my friend, and to lend me sufficient money to satisfy the brewer, and to get my soul out of the snares of the man in black; and sure enough the next morning the two young ladies brought me the fifty pounds, which I forthwith carried to the brewer, who was monstrously civil, saying that he hoped any little misunderstanding we had had would not prevent our being good friends in future. That a’n’t all; the people of the neighbouring county hearing as if by art witchcraft that I had licked Hunter, and was on good terms with the brewer, forthwith began to come in crowds to look at me, pay me homage, and be my customers. Moreover, fifty scoundrels who owed me money, and who would have seen me starve rather than help me as long as they considered me a down pin, remembered their debts, and came and paid me more than they owed. That a’n’t all; the brewer being about to establish a stagecoach and three, to run across the country, says it shall stop and change horses at my house, and the passengers breakfast and sup as it goes and returns. He wishes me⁠—whom he calls the best man in England⁠—to give his son lessons in boxing, which he says he considers a fine manly English art, and a great defence against Popery⁠—notwithstanding that only a month ago, when he considered me a down pin, he was in the habit of railing against it as a blackguard practice, and against me as a blackguard for following it; so I am going to commence with young hopeful tomorrow.”

“I really cannot help congratulating you on your good fortune,” said I.

“That a’n’t all,” said the landlord. “This very morning the folks of our parish made me churchwarden, which they would no more have done a month ago, when they considered me a down pin, than they⁠—”

“Mercy upon us!” said I, “if fortune pours in upon you in this manner, who knows but that within a year they may make you justice of the peace?”

“Who knows, indeed!” said the landlord. “Well, I will prove myself worthy of my good luck by showing the grateful mind⁠—not to those who would be kind to me now, but to those who were, when the days were rather gloomy. My customers shall have abundance of rough language, but I’ll knock anyone down who says anything against the clergyman who lent me the fifty pounds, or against the Church of England, of which he is parson and I am churchwarden. I am also ready to do anything in reason for him who paid me for the ale he drank, when I shouldn’t have had the heart to collar him for the money had he refused to pay; who never jeered or flouted me like the rest of my customers when I was a down pin, and though he refused to fight cross for me was never cross with me, but listened to all I had to say, and gave me all kinds of good advice. Now who do you think I mean by this last? why, who but yourself⁠—who on earth but yourself? The parson is a good man and a great preacher, and I’ll knock anybody down who says to the contrary; and I mention him first, because why, he’s a gentleman, and you a tinker. But I am by no means sure you are not the best friend of the two; for I doubt, do you see, whether I should have had the fifty pounds but for you. You persuaded me to give up that silly drink they call sherry, and drink ale; and