“Raven,” said Scythrop, “the clock is too fast.”
“No, indeed,” said Raven, who knew nothing of Scythrop’s intentions; “if anything, it is too slow.”
“Villain!” said Scythrop, pointing the pistol at him; “it is too fast.”
“Yes—yes—too fast, I meant,” said Raven, in manifest fear.
“How much too fast?” said Scythrop.
“As much as you please,” said Raven.
“How much, I say?” said Scythrop, pointing the pistol again.
“An hour, a full hour, sir,” said the terrified butler.
“Put back my watch,” said Scythrop.
Raven, with trembling hand, was putting back the watch, when the rattle of wheels was heard in the court; and Scythrop, springing down the stairs by three steps together, was at the door in sufficient time to have handed either of the young ladies from the carriage, if she had happened to be in it; but Mr. Glowry was alone.
“I rejoice to see you,” said Mr. Glowry; “I was fearful of being too late, for I waited till the last moment in the hope of accomplishing my promise; but all my endeavours have been vain, as these letters will show.”
Scythrop impatiently broke the seals. The contents were these:
Almost a stranger in England, I fled from parental tyranny, and the dread of an arbitrary marriage, to the protection of a stranger and a philosopher, whom I expected to find something better than, or at least something different from, the rest of his worthless species. Could I, after what has occurred, have expected nothing more from you than the commonplace impertinence of sending your father to treat with me, and with mine, for me? I should be a little moved in your favour, if I could believe you capable of carrying into effect the resolutions which your father says you have taken, in the event of my proving inflexible; though I doubt not you will execute them, as far as relates to the pint of wine, twice over, at least. I wish you much happiness with Miss O’Carroll. I shall always cherish a grateful recollection of Nightmare Abbey, for having been the means of introducing me to a true transcendentalist; and, though he is a little older than myself, which is all one in Germany, I shall very soon have the pleasure of subscribing myself
I hope, my dear cousin, that you will not be angry with me, but that you will always think of me as a sincere friend, who will always feel interested in your welfare; I am sure you love Miss Toobad much better than me, and I wish you much happiness with her. Mr. Listless assures me that people do not kill themselves for love nowadays, though it is still the fashion to talk about it. I shall, in a very short time, change my name and situation, and shall always be happy to see you in Berkeley Square, when, to the unalterable designation of your affectionate cousin, I shall subjoin the signature of
Scythrop tore both the letters to atoms, and railed in good set terms against the fickleness of women.
“Calm yourself, my dear Scythrop,” said Mr. Glowry; “there are yet maidens in England.”
“Very true, sir,” said Scythrop.
“And the next time,” said Mr. Glowry, “have but one string to your bow.”
“Very good advice, sir,” said Scythrop.
“And, besides,” said Mr. Glowry, “the fatal time is past, for it is now almost eight.”
“Then that villain, Raven,” said Scythrop, “deceived me when he said that the clock was too fast; but, as you observe very justly, the time has gone by, and I have just reflected that these repeated crosses in love qualify me to take a very advanced degree in misanthropy; and there is, therefore, good hope that I may make a figure in the world. But I shall ring for the rascal Raven, and admonish him.”
Raven appeared. Scythrop looked at him very fiercely two or three minutes; and Raven, still remembering the pistol, stood quaking in mute apprehension, till Scythrop, pointing significantly towards the dining-room, said, “Bring some Madeira.”
Endnotes
-
A corruption of Filosky, quasi φιλοσχιος, a lover, or sectator, of shadows. ↩
-
See Forsyth’s Principles of Moral Science. ↩
-
We are not masters of the whole vocabulary. See any novel by any literary lady. ↩
-
Ahrimanes, in the Persian mythology, is the evil power, the prince of the kingdom of darkness. He is the rival of Oromazes, the prince of the kingdom of light. These two powers have divided and equal dominion. Sometimes one of the two has a temporary supremacy.—According to Mr. Toobad, the present period would be the reign of Ahrimanes. Lord Byron seems to be of the same opinion, by the use he has made of Ahrimanes in Manfred; where the great Alastor, or Καχος Δαιμων, of Persia, is hailed king of the world by the Nemesis of Greece, in concert with three of the Scandinavian Valkyrae, under the name of the Destinies; the astrological spirits of the alchemists of the middle ages; an elemental witch, transplanted from Denmark to the Alps; and a chorus of