’O，it’sbetterknownthanyousuppose，’saidMichaelsippinghisbrandyandsoda。’IalwaysactonitmyselfwhenIwantadrink。’
Theoldgentleman，whowasanxioustopropitiateMichael，laughedacheerlesslaugh。’Youhavesuchaflowofspirits，’saidhe，’I
amsureIoftenfinditquiteamusing。ButregardingthisprincipleofwhichIwasabouttospeak。Itisthatofaccommodatingone’s—selftothemannersofanyland（howeverhumble）inwhichourlotmaybecast。Now，inFrance，forinstance，everyonegoestoacafeforhismeals;inAmerica，towhatiscalleda\"two—bithouse\";inEnglandthepeopleresorttosuchaninstitutionasthepresentforrefreshment。Withsandwiches，tea，andanoccasionalglassofbitterbeer，amancanliveluxuriouslyinLondonforfourteenpoundstwelveshillingsperannum。’
’Yes，Iknow，’returnedMichael，’butthat’snotincludingclothes，washing，orboots。Thewholething，withcigarsandoccasionalsprees，costsmeoversevenhundredayear。’
ButthiswasMichael’slastinterruption。Helistenedingood—humouredsilencetotheremainderofhisuncle’slecture，whichspeedilybranchedtopoliticalreform，thencetothetheoryoftheweather—glass，withanillustrativeaccountofaboraintheAdriatic;thenceagaintothebestmannerofteachingarithmetictothedeaf—and—dumb;andwiththat，thesandwichbeingthennomore，explicuitvaldefeliciter。AmomentlaterthepairissuedforthontheKing’sRoad。
’Michael，Isaidhisuncle，’thereasonthatIamhereisbecauseIcannotendurethosenephewsofmine。Ifindthemintolerable。’
’Idaresayyoudo，’assentedMichael，’Inevercouldstandthemforamoment。’
’Theywouldn’tletmespeak，’continuedtheoldgentlemanbitterly;’Ineverwasallowedtogetawordinedgewise;Iwasshutupatoncewithsomeimpertinentremark。Theykeptmeonshortallowanceofpencils，whenIwishedtomakenotesofthemostabsorbinginterest;thedailynewspaperwasguardedfrommelikeayoungbabyfromagorilla。Now，youknowme，Michael。I
liveformycalculations;Iliveformymanifoldandever—changingviewsoflife;pensandpaperandtheproductionsofthepopularpressaretomeasimportantasfoodanddrink;
andmylifewasgrowingquiteintolerablewhen，intheconfusionofthatfortunaterailwayaccidentatBrowndean，Imademyescape。Theymustthinkmedead，andaretryingtodeceivetheworldforthechanceofthetontine。’
’Bytheway，howdoyoustandformoney？’askedMichaelkindly。
’Pecuniarilyspeaking，Iamrich，’returnedtheoldmanwithcheerfulness。’Iamlivingatpresentattherateofonehundredayear，withunlimitedpensandpaper;theBritishMuseumatwhichtogetbooks;andallthenewspapersIchoosetoread。Butit’sextraordinaryhowlittleamanofintellectualinterestrequirestobotherwithbooksinaprogressiveage。Thenewspaperssupplyalltheconclusions。’
’I’lltellyouwhat，’saidMichael，’comeandstaywithme。’
’Michael，’saidtheoldgentleman，’it’sverykindofyou，butyouscarcelyunderstandwhatapeculiarpositionIoccupy。Therearesomelittlefinancialcomplications;asaguardian，myeffortswerenotaltogetherblessed;andnottoputtoofineapointuponthematter，Iamabsolutelyinthepowerofthatvilefellow，Morris。’
’Youshouldbedisguised，’criedMichaeleagerly;’Iwilllendyouapairofwindow—glassspectaclesandsomeredside—whiskers。’
’Ihadalreadycanvassedthatidea，’repliedtheoldgentleman，’butfearedtoawakenremarkinmyunpretentiouslodgings。Thearistocracy，Iamwellaware——’
’Butseehere，’interruptedMichael，’howdoyoucometohaveanymoneyatall？Don’tmakeastrangerofme，UncleJoseph;Iknowallaboutthetrust，andthehashyoumadeofit，andtheassignmentyouwereforcedtomaketoMorris。’
Josephnarratedhisdealingswiththebank。
’O，butIsay，thiswon’tdo，’criedthelawyer。’You’veputyourfootinit。Youhadnorighttodowhatyoudid。’
’Thewholethingismine，Michael，’protestedtheoldgentleman。
’Ifoundedandnursedthatbusinessonprinciplesentirelyofmyown。’
’That’sallveryfine，’saidthelawyer;’butyoumadeanassignment，youwereforcedtomakeit，too;eventhenyourpositionwasextremelyshaky;butnow，mydearsir，itmeansthedock。’
’Itisn’tpossible，’criedJoseph;’thelawcannotbesounjustasthat？’
’Andthecreamofthething，’interruptedMichael，withasuddenshoutoflaughter，’thecreamofthethingisthis，thatofcourseyou’vedownedtheleatherbusiness！Imustsay，UncleJoseph，youhavestrangeideasoflaw，butIlikeyourtasteinhumour。’
’Iseenothingtolaughat，’observedMrFinsburytartly。
’Andtalkingofthat，hasMorrisanypowertosignforthefirm？’
askedMichael。
’Noonebutmyself，’repliedJoseph。
’PoordevilofaMorris！O，poordevilofaMorris！’criedthelawyerindelight。’Andhiskeepingupthefarcethatyou’reathome！O，Morris，theLordhasdeliveredyouintomyhands！Letmesee，UncleJoseph，whatdoyousupposetheleatherbusinessworth？’
’Itwasworthahundredthousand，’saidJosephbitterly，’whenitwasinmyhands。ButthentherecameaScotsman——itissupposedhehadacertaintalent——itwasentirelydirectedtobookkeeping——noaccountantinLondoncouldunderstandawordofanyofhisbooks;andthentherewasMorris，whoisperfectlyincompetent。Andnowitisworthverylittle。Morristriedtosellitlastyear;andPogramandJarrisofferedonlyfourthousand。’
’Ishallturnmyattentiontoleather，’saidMichaelwithdecision。
’You？’askedJoseph。’Iadviseyounot。Thereisnothinginthewholefieldofcommercemoresurprisingthanthefluctuationsoftheleathermarket。Itssensitivenessmaybedescribedasmorbid。’
’Andnow，UncleJoseph，whathaveyoudonewithallthatmoney？\"
askedthelawyer。
’Paiditintoabankanddrewtwentypounds，’answeredMrFinsburypromptly。’Why？’
’Verywell，’saidMichael。’TomorrowIshallsenddownaclerkwithachequeforahundred，andhe’lldrawouttheoriginalsumandreturnittotheAnglo—Patagonian，withsomesortofexplanationwhichIwilltrytoinventforyou。Thatwillclearyourfeet，andasMorriscan’ttouchapennyofitwithoutforgery，itwilldonoharmtomylittlescheme。’
’ButwhatamItodo？’askedJoseph;’Icannotliveuponnothing。’
’Don’tyouhear？’returnedMichael。’Isendyouachequeforahundred;whichleavesyoueightytogoalongupon;andwhenthat’sdone，applytomeagain。’
’Iwouldrathernotbebeholdentoyourbountyallthesame，’
saidJoseph，bitingathiswhitemoustache。’Iwouldratherliveonmyownmoney，sinceIhaveit。’
Michaelgraspedhisarm。’Willnothingmakeyoubelieve，’hecried，’thatIamtryingtosaveyoufromDartmoor？’
Hisearnestnessstaggeredtheoldman。’Imustturnmyattentiontolaw，’hesaid;’itwillbeanewfield;forthough，ofcourse，Iunderstanditsgeneralprinciples，Ihaveneverreallyappliedmymindtothedetails，andthisviewofyours，forexample，comesonmeentirelybysurprise。Butyoumayberight，andofcourseatmytimeoflife——forIamnolongeryoung——anyreallylongtermofimprisonmentwouldbehighlyprejudicial。But，mydearnephew，Ihavenoclaimonyou;youhavenocalltosupportme。’
’That’sallright，’saidMichael;’I’llprobablygetitoutoftheleatherbusiness。’
Andhavingtakendowntheoldgentleman’saddress，Michaellefthimatthecornerofastreet。
’Whatawonderfuloldmuddler！’hereflected，’andwhatasingularthingislife！IseemtobecondemnedtobetheinstrumentofProvidence。Letmesee;whathaveIdonetoday？
Disposedofadeadbody，savedPitman，savedmyUncleJoseph，brightenedupForsyth，anddrunkadevilofalotofmostindifferentliquor。Let’stopoffwithavisittomycousins，andbetheinstrumentofProvidenceinearnest。TomorrowIcanturnmyattentiontoleather;tonightI’lljustmakeitlivelyfor’eminafriendlyspirit。’
Aboutaquarterofanhourlater，astheclockswerestrikingeleven，theinstrumentofProvidencedescendedfromahansom，and，biddingthedriverwait，rappedatthedoorofNo。16JohnStreet。
ItwaspromptlyopenedbyMorris。
’O，it’syou，Michael，’hesaid，carefullyblockingupthenarrowopening：’it’sverylate。’
Michaelwithoutawordreachedforth，graspedMorriswarmlybythehand，andgaveitsoextremeasqueezethatthesullenhouseholderfellback。Profitingbythismovement，thelawyerobtainedafootinginthelobbyandmarchedintothedining—room，withMorrisathisheels。
’Where’smyUncleJoseph？’demandedMichael，sittingdowninthemostcomfortablechair。
’He’snotbeenverywelllately，’repliedMorris;’he’sstayingatBrowndean;Johnisnursinghim;andIamalone，asyousee。’
Michaelsmiledtohimself。’Iwanttoseehimonparticularbusiness，’hesaid。
’Youcan’texpecttoseemyunclewhenyouwon’tletmeseeyourfather，’returnedMorris。
’Fiddlestick，’saidMichael。’Myfatherismyfather;butJosephisjustasmuchmyuncleashe’syours;andyouhavenorighttosequestratehisperson。’
’Idonosuchthing，’saidMorrisdoggedly。’Heisnotwell，heisdangerouslyillandnobodycanseehim。’
’I’lltellyouwhat，then，’saidMichael。’I’llmakeacleanbreastofit。Ihavecomedownliketheopossum，Morris;Ihavecometocompromise。’
PoorMorristurnedaspaleasdeath，andthenaflushofwrathagainsttheinjusticeofman’sdestinydyedhisverytemples。
’Whatdoyoumean？’hecried，’Idon’tbelieveawordofit。’AndwhenMichaelhadassuredhimofhisseriousness，’Well，then，’hecried，withanotherdeepflush，’Iwon’t;soyoucanputthatinyourpipeandsmokeit。’
’Oho！’saidMichaelqueerly。’Yousayyouruncleisdangerouslyill，andyouwon’tcompromise？There’ssomethingveryfishyaboutthat。’
’Whatdoyoumean？’criedMorrishoarsely。
’Ionlysayit’sfishy，’returnedMichael，’thatis，pertainingtothefinnytribe。’
’Doyoumeantoinsinuateanything？’criedMorrisstormily，tryingthehighhand。
’Insinuate？’repeatedMichael。’O，don’tlet’sbegintouseawkwardexpressions！Letusdrownourdifferencesinabottle，liketwoaffablekinsmen。TheTwoAffableKinsmen，sometimesattributedtoShakespeare，’headded。
Morris’smindwaslabouringlikeamill。’Doeshesuspect？oristhischanceandstuff？ShouldIsoap，orshouldIbully？Soap，’
heconcluded。’Itgainstime。’’Well，’saidhealoud，andwithratherapainfulaffectationofheartiness，’it’slongsincewehavehadaneveningtogether，Michael;andthoughmyhabits（asyouknow）areverytemperate，Imayaswellmakeanexception。
ExcusemeonemomenttillIfetchabottleofwhiskyfromthecellar。’
’Nowhiskyforme，’saidMichael;’alittleoftheoldstillchampagneornothing。’
ForamomentMorrisstoodirresolute，forthewinewasveryvaluable：thenexthehadquittedtheroomwithoutaword。Hisquickmindhadperceivedhisadvantage;inthusdunninghimforthecreamofthecellar，Michaelwasplayingintohishand。’Onebottle？’hethought。’ByGeorge，I’llgivehimtwo！thisisnomomentforeconomy;andoncethebeastisdrunk，it’sstrangeifIdon’twringhissecretoutofhim。’
Withtwobottles，accordingly，hereturned。Glasseswereproduced，andMorrisfilledthemwithhospitablegrace。
’Idrinktoyou，cousin！’hecriedgaily。’Don’tsparethewine—cupinmyhouse。’
Michaeldrankhisglassdeliberately，standingatthetable;
filleditagain，andreturnedtohischair，carryingthebottlealongwithhim。
’Thespoilsofwar！’hesaidapologetically。’Theweakestgoestothewall。Science，Morris，science。’Morriscouldthinkofnoreply，andforanappreciableintervalsilencereigned。ButtwoglassesofthestillchampagneproducedarapidchangeinMichael。
’There’sawantofvivacityaboutyou，Morris，’heobserved。’Youmaybedeep;butI’llbehangedifyou’revivacious！’
’Whatmakesyouthinkmedeep？’askedMorriswithanairofpleasedsimplicity。
’Becauseyouwon’tcompromise，’saidthelawyer。’You’redeepdog，Morris，verydeepdog，nott’compromise——remarkabledeepdog。Andaverygoodglassofwine;it’stheonlyrespectablefeatureintheFinsburyfamily，thiswine;rarerthingthanatitle——muchrarer。Nowamanwithglasswinelikethisincellar，Iwonderwhywon’tcompromise？’
’Well，YOUwouldn’tcompromisebefore，youknow，’saidthesmilingMorris。’Turnaboutisfairplay。’
’Iwonderwhy_I_wouldn’compromise？IwonderwhyYOUwouldn’？’
enquiredMichael。’Iwonderwhyweeachthinktheotherwouldn’？
’Squitearemarrable——remarkableproblem，’headded，triumphingoveroralobstacles，notwithoutobviouspride。’Wonderwhatweeachthink——don’tyou？’
’Whatdoyousupposetohavebeenmyreason？’askedMorrisadroitly。
Michaellookedathimandwinked。’That’scool，’saidhe。’Nextthing，you’llaskmetohelpyououtofthemuddle。IknowI’memissaryofProvidence，butnotthatkind！Yougetoutofityourself，likeAesopandtheotherfellow。Mustbedreadfulmuddleforyoungorphano’forty;leatherbusinessandall！’
’IamsureIdon’tknowwhatyoumean，’saidMorris。
’NotsureIknowmyself，’saidMichael。’Thisisexc’lentvintage，sir——exc’lentvintage。Nothingagainstthetipple。Onlything：here’savaluableuncledisappeared。Now，whatIwanttoknow：where’svaluableuncle？’
’Ihavetoldyou：heisatBrowndean，’answeredMorris，furtivelywipinghisbrow，fortheserepeatedhintsbegantotelluponhimcruelly。
’VeryeasysayBrown——Browndee——no’soeasyafterall！’criedMichael。’Easysay;anything’seasysay，whenyoucansayit。
WhatIdon’like’stotaldisappearanceofanuncle。Notbusinesslike。’Andhewaggedhishead。
’Itisallperfectlysimple，’returnedMorris，withlaboriouscalm。’Thereisnomystery。HestaysatBrowndean，wherehegotashakeintheaccident。’
’Ah！’saidMichael，’gotdevilofashake！’
’Whydoyousaythat？’criedMorrissharply。
’Bestpossibleauthority。Toldmesoyourself，’saidthelawyer。
’Butifyoutellmecontrarynow，ofcourseI’mboundtobelieveeithertheonestoryortheother。PointisI’veupsetthisbottle，stillchampagne’sexc’lentthingcarpet——pointis，isvaluableuncledead——an’——bury？’
Morrissprangfromhisseat。’What’sthatyousay？’hegasped。
’Isayit’sexc’lentthingcarpet，’repliedMichael，rising。
’Exc’lentthingpromotehealthyactionoftheskin。Well，it’sallone，anyway。GivemylovetoUncleChampagne。’
’You’renotgoingaway？’saidMorris。
’Awf’lysorry，oleman。Gottositupsickfriend，’saidthewaveringMichael。
’Youshallnotgotillyouhaveexplainedyourhints，’returnedMorrisfiercely。’Whatdoyoumean？Whatbroughtyouhere？’
’Nooffence，Itrust，’saidthelawyer，turningroundasheopenedthedoor;’onlydoingmydutyasshemisheryofProvidence。’
Gropinghiswaytothefront—door，heopeneditwithsomedifficulty，anddescendedthestepstothehansom。Thetireddriverlookedupasheapproached，andaskedwherehewastogonext。
MichaelobservedthatMorrishadfollowedhimtothesteps;abrilliantinspirationcametohim。’Anythingt’givepain，’hereflected……’DriveShcotlan’Yard，’headdedaloud，holdingtothewheeltosteadyhimself;’there’ssomethingdevilishfishy，cabby，aboutthosecousins。Mush’beclearedup！DriveShcotlan’Yard。’
’Youdon’tmeanthat，sir，’saidtheman，withthereadysympathyofthelowerordersforanintoxicatedgentleman。’Ihadbettertakeyouhome，sir;youcangotoScotlandYardtomorrow。’
’IsitasfriendorasperfessionalmanyouadvisemenottogoShcotlan’Yardt’night？’enquiredMichael。’Allrigh’，nevermin’
Shcotlan’Yard，driveGaietybar。’
’TheGaietybarisclosed，’saidtheman。
’Thenhome，’saidMichael，withthesamecheerfulness。
’Whereto，sir？’
’Idon’tremember，I’msure，’saidMichael，enteringthevehicle，’driveShcotlan’Yardandask。’
’Butyou’llhaveacard，’saidtheman，throughthelittleapertureinthetop，’givemeyourcard—case。’
’Whatimagi——imaginationinacabby！’criedthelawyer，producinghiscard—case，andhandingittothedriver。
Themanreaditbythelightofthelamp。’MrMichaelFinsbury，233King’sRoad，Chelsea。Isthatit，sir？’
’Rightyouare，’criedMichael，’drivethereifyoucanseeway。’
CHAPTERX。GideonForsythandtheBroadwoodGrandThereaderhasperhapsreadthatremarkablework，WhoPutBacktheClock？byE。H。B。，whichappearedforseveraldaysupontherailwaybookstallsandthenvanishedentirelyfromthefaceoftheearth。WhethereatingTimemakesthechiefofhisdietoutofoldeditions;whetherProvidencehaspassedaspecialenactmentonbehalfofauthors;orwhethertheselasthavetakenthelawintotheirownhand，boundthemselvesintoadarkconspiracywithapassword，whichIwoulddieratherthanreveal，andnightafternightsallyforthundersomevigorousleader，suchasMrJamesPaynorMrWalterBesant，ontheirtaskofsecretspoliation——certainitis，atleast，thattheoldeditionspass，givingplacetonew。Totheproof，itisbelievedtherearenowonlythreecopiesextantofWhoPutBacktheClock？oneintheBritishMuseum，successfullyconcealedbyawrongentryinthecatalogue;anotherinoneofthecellars（thecellarwherethemusicaccumulates）oftheAdvocates’LibraryatEdinburgh;andathird，boundinmorocco，inthepossessionofGideonForsyth。Toaccountfortheverydifferentfateattendingthisthirdexemplar，thereadiesttheoryistosupposethatGideonadmiredthetale。Howtoexplainthatadmirationmightappear（tothosewhohaveperusedthework）moredifficult;buttheweaknessofaparentisextreme，andGideon（andnothisuncle，whoseinitialshehadhumorouslyborrowed）wastheauthorofWhoPutBacktheClock？Hehadneveracknowledgedit，oronlytosomeintimatefriendswhileitwasstillinproof;afteritsappearanceandalarmingfailure，themodestyofthenovelisthadbecomemorepressing，andthesecretwasnowlikelytobebetterkeptthanthatoftheauthorshipofWaverley。
Acopyofthework（forthedateofmytaleisalreadyyesterday）
stillfiguredindustysolitudeinthebookstallatWaterloo;andGideon，ashepassedwithhisticketforHamptonCourt，smiledcontemptuouslyatthecreatureofhisthoughts。Whatanidleambitionwastheauthor’s！Howfarbeneathhimwasthepracticeofthatchildishart！Withhishandclosingonhisfirstbrief，hefelthimselfamanatlast;andthemusewhopresidesoverthepoliceromance，aladypresumablyofFrenchextraction，fledhisneighbourhood，andreturnedtojointhedanceroundthespringsofHelicon，amongherGreciansisters。
Robust，practicalreflectionstillcheeredtheyoungbarristeruponhisjourney。Againandagainheselectedthelittlecountry—houseinitsisletofgreatoaks，whichhewastomakehisfuturehome。Likeaprudenthouseholder，heprojectedimprovementsashepassed;tooneheaddedastable，toanotheratennis—court，athirdhesuppliedwithabecomingrusticboat—house。
’Howlittleawhileago，’hecouldnotbutreflect，’Iwasacarelessyoungdogwithnothoughtbuttobecomfortable！Icaredfornothingbutboatinganddetectivenovels。Iwouldhavepassedanold—fashionedcountry—housewithlargekitchen—garden，stabling，boat—house，andspaciousoffices，withoutsomuchasalook，andcertainlywouldhavemadenoenquiryastothedrains。
Howamanripenswiththeyears！’
TheintelligentreaderwillperceivetheravagesofMissHazeltine。GideonhadcarriedJuliastraighttoMrBloomfield’shouse;andthatgentleman，havingbeenledtounderstandshewasthevictimofoppression，hadnoisilyespousedhercause。Heworkedhimselfintoafinebreathingheat;inwhich，toamanofhistemperament，actionbecameneedful。
’Idonotknowwhichistheworse，’hecried，’thefraudulentoldvillainortheunmanlyyoungcub。IwillwritetothePallMallandexposethem。Nonsense，sir;theymustbeexposed！It’sapublicduty。DidyounottellmethefellowwasaTory？O，theuncleisaRadicallecturer，ishe？Nodoubttheunclehasbeengrosslywronged。Butofcourse，asyousay，thatmakesachange;
itbecomesscarcesomuchapublicduty。’
Andhesoughtandinstantlyfoundafreshoutletforhisalacrity。MissHazeltine（henowperceived）mustbekeptoutoftheway;hishouseboatwaslyingready——hehadreturnedbutadayortwobeforefromhisusualcruise;therewasnoplacelikeahouseboatforconcealment;andthatverymorning，intheteethoftheeasterlygale，MrandMrsBloomfieldandMissJuliaHazeltinehadstartedforthontheiruntimelyvoyage。Gideonpledinvaintobeallowedtojointheparty。’No，Gid，’saidhisuncle。’Youwillbewatched;youmustkeepawayfromus。’Norhadthebarristerventuredtocontestthisstrangeillusion;forhefearedifherubbedoffanyoftheromance，thatMrBloomfieldmightwearyofthewholeaffair。Andhisdiscretionwasrewarded;
fortheSquirradical，layingaheavyhanduponhisnephew’sshoulder，hadaddedthesenotableexpressions：’Iseewhatyouareafter，Gid。Butifyou’regoingtogetthegirl，youhavetowork，sir。’
Thesepleasingsoundshadcheeredthebarristerallday，ashesatreadinginchambers;theycontinuedtoformtheground—baseofhismanlymusingsashewaswhirledtoHamptonCourt;evenwhenhelandedatthestation，andbegantopullhimselftogetherforhisdelicateinterview，thevoiceofUncleNedandtheeyesofJuliawerenotforgotten。
Butnowitbegantorainsurprises：inallHamptonCourttherewasnoKurnaulVilla，noCountTarnow，andnocount。Thiswasstrange;but，viewedinthelightoftheincoherencyofhisinstructions，notperhapsinexplicable;MrDicksonhadbeenlunching，andhemighthavemadesomefataloversightintheaddress。Whatwasthethoroughlyprompt，manly，andbusinesslikestep？thoughtGideon;andheansweredhimselfatonce：’A
telegram，verylaconic。’Speedilythewireswereflashingthefollowingveryimportantmissive：’Dickson，LanghamHotel。Villaandpersonsbothunknownhere，supposeerroneousaddress;followselfnexttrain。——Forsyth。’AndattheLanghamHotel，sureenough，withabrowexpressiveofdispatchandintellectualeffort，Gideondescendednotlongafterfromasmokinghansom。
IdonotsupposethatGideonwilleverforgettheLanghamHotel。
NoCountTarnowwasonething;noJohnDicksonandnoEzraThomas，quiteanother。How，why，andwhatnext，dancedinhisbewilderedbrain;fromeverycentreofwhatweplayfullycallthehumanintellectincongruousmessagesweretelegraphed;andbeforethehubbubofdismayhadquitesubsided，thebarristerfoundhimselfdrivingfuriouslyforhischambers。Therewasatleastacaveofrefuge;itwasatleastaplacetothinkin;andheclimbedthestair，puthiskeyinthelockandopenedthedoor，withsomeapproachtohope。
Itwasalldarkwithin，forthenighthadsometimefallen;butGideonknewhisroom，heknewwherethematchesstoodontheendofthechimney—piece;andheadvancedboldly，andinsodoingdashedhimselfagainstaheavybody;where（slightlyalteringtheexpressionsofthesong）noheavybodyshouldhavebeen。TherehadbeennothingtherewhenGideonwentout;hehadlockedthedoorbehindhim，hehadfounditlockedonhisreturn，noonecouldhaveentered，thefurniturecouldnothavechangeditsownposition。Andyetundeniablytherewasasomethingthere。Hethrustouthishandsinthedarkness。Yes，therewassomething，somethinglarge，somethingsmooth，somethingcold。
’Heavenforgiveme！’saidGideon，’itfeelslikeapiano。’
Andthenextmomentherememberedthevestasinhiswaistcoatpocketandhadstruckalight。
Itwasindeedapianothatmethisdoubtfulgaze;avastandcostlyinstrument，stainedwiththerainsoftheafternoonanddefacedwithrecentscratches。Thelightofthevestawasreflectedfromthevarnishedsides，likeastaiceinquietwater;
andinthefartherendoftheroomtheshadowofthatstrangevisitorloomedbulkilyandwaveredonthewall。
Gideonletthematchburntohisfingers，andthedarknessclosedoncemoreonhisbewilderment。Thenwithtremblinghandshelitthelampanddrewnear。Nearorfar，therewasnodoubtofthefact：thethingwasapiano。There，wherebyallthelawsofGodandmanitwasimpossiblethatitshouldbe——therethethingimpudentlystood。Gideonthrewopenthekeyboardandstruckachord。Notasounddisturbedthequietoftheroom。’Isthereanythingwrongwithme？’hethought，withapang;anddrawinginaseat，obstinatelypersistedinhisattemptstoravishsilence，nowwithsparklingarpeggios，nowwithasonataofBeethoven’swhich（inhappierdays）heknewtobeoneoftheloudestpiecesofthatpowerfulcomposer。Stillnotasound。HegavetheBroadwoodtwogreatbangswithhisclenchedfirst。Allwasstillasthegrave。Theyoungbarristerstartedtohisfeet。
’Iamstark—staringmad，’hecriedaloud，’andnooneknowsitbutmyself。God’sworstcursehasfallenonme。’
Hisfingersencounteredhiswatch—chain;instantlyhehadpluckedforthhiswatchandheldittohisear。Hecouldhearitticking。
’Iamnotdeaf，’hesaidaloud。’Iamonlyinsane。Mymindhasquittedmeforever。’
Helookeduneasilyabouttheroom，and——gazedwithlacklustreeyesatthechairinwhichMrDicksonhadinstalledhimself。Theendofacigarlaynearonthefender。
’No，’hethought，’Idon’tbelievethatwasadream;butGodknowsmymindisfailingrapidly。Iseemtobehungry，forinstance;it’sprobablyanotherhallucination。StillImighttry。
Ishallhaveonemoregoodmeal;IshallgototheCafeRoyal，andmaypossiblyberemovedfromtheredirecttotheasylum。’
Hewonderedwithmorbidinterest，ashedescendedthestairs，howhewouldfirstbetrayhisterriblecondition——wouldheattackawaiter？oreatglass？——andwhenhehadmountedintoacab，hebadethemandrivetoNichol’s，withalurkingfearthattherewasnosuchplace。
Theflaring，gassyentranceofthecafespeedilysethismindatrest;hewascheeredbesidestorecognizehisfavouritewaiter;
hisordersappearedtobecoherent;thedinner，whenitcame，wasquiteasensiblemeal，andheateitwithenjoyment。’Uponmyword，’hereflected，’Iamabouttemptedtoindulgeahope。HaveIbeenhasty？HaveIdonewhatRobertSkillwouldhavedone？’
RobertSkill（Ineedscarcelymention）wasthenameoftheprincipalcharacterinWhoPutBacktheClock？Ithadoccurredtotheauthorasabrilliantandprobableinvention;toreadersofacriticalturn，Robertappearedscarceuponalevelwithhissurname;butitisthedifficultyofthepoliceromance，thatthereaderisalwaysamanofsuchvastlygreateringenuitythanthewriter。Intheeyesofhiscreator，however，RobertSkillwasawordtoconjurewith;thethoughtbracedandspurredhim;whatthatbrilliantcreaturewouldhavedoneGideonwoulddoalso。
Thisframeofmindisnotuncommon;thedistressedgeneral，thebaiteddivine，thehesitatingauthor，decideseverallytodowhatNapoleon，whatStPaul，whatShakespearewouldhavedone;andthereremainsonlytheminorquestion，Whatisthat？InGideon’scaseonethingwasclear：Skillwasamanofsingulardecision，hewouldhavetakensomestep（whateveritwas）atonce;andtheonlystepthatGideoncouldthinkofwastoreturntohischambers。
Thisbeingachieved，allfurtherinspirationfailedhim，andhestoodpitifullystaringattheinstrumentofhisconfusion。Totouchthekeysagainwasmorethanhedurstventureon;whethertheyhadmaintainedtheirformersilence，orrespondedwiththetonesofthelasttrump，itwouldhaveequallydethronedhisresolution。’Itmaybeapracticaljest，’hereflected，’thoughitseemselaborateandcostly。Andyetwhatelsecanitbe？ItMUSTbeapracticaljest。’Andjustthenhiseyefelluponafeaturewhichseemedcorroborativeofthatview：thepagodaofcigarswhichMichaelhaderectedereheleftthechambers。’Whythat？’reflectedGideon。’Itseemsentirelyirresponsible。’Anddrawingnear，hegingerlydemolishedit。’Akey，’hethought。
’Whythat？Andwhysoconspicuouslyplaced？’Hemadethecircuitoftheinstrument，andperceivedthekeyholeattheback。’Aha！
thisiswhatthekeyisfor，’saidhe。’Theywantedmetolookinside。Strangerandstranger。’Andwiththatheturnedthekeyandraisedthelid。
Inwhatanticsofagony，inwhatfitsofflightyresolution，inwhatcollapsesofdespair，Gideonconsumedthenight，itwouldbeungeneroustoenquiretooclosely。
Thattrilloftinysongwithwhichtheeaves—birdsofLondonwelcometheapproachofdayfoundhimlimpandrumpledandbloodshot，andwithamindstillvacantofresource。Heroseandlookedforthunrejoicinglyonblindedwindows，anemptystreet，andthegreydaylightdottedwiththeyellowlamps。Therearemorningswhenthecityseemstoawakewithasickheadache;thiswasoneofthem;andstillthetwitteringreveilleofthesparrowsstirredinGideon’sspirit。
’Dayhere，’hethought，’andIstillhelpless！Thismustcometoanend。’Andhelockedupthepiano，putthekeyinhispocket，andsetforthinquestofcoffee。Ashewent，hismindtrudgedforthehundredthtimeacertainmill—roadofterrors，misgivings，andregrets。Tocallinthepolice，togiveupthebody，tocoverLondonwithhandbillsdescribingJohnDicksonandEzraThomas，tofillthepaperswithparagraphs，MysteriousOccurrenceintheTemple——MrForsythadmittedtobail，thiswasonecourse，aneasycourse，asafecourse;butnot，themorehereflectedonit，notapleasantone。For，wasitnottopublishabroadanumberofsingularfactsabouthimself？Achildoughttohaveseenthroughthestoryoftheseadventurers，andhehadgapedandswallowedit。Abarristeroftheleastself—respectshouldhaverefusedtolistentoclientswhocamebeforehiminamannersoirregular，andhehadlistened。AndO，ifhehadonlylistened;buthehadgoneupontheirerrand——he，abarrister，uninstructedevenbytheshadowofasolicitor——uponanerrandfitonlyforaprivatedetective;andalas！——andforthehundredthtimethebloodsurgedtohisbrow——hehadtakentheirmoney！’No，’saidhe，’thethingisasplainasStPaul’s。I
shallbedishonoured！Ihavesmashedmycareerforafive—poundnote。’
Betweenthepossibilityofbeinghangedinallinnocence，andthecertaintyofapublicandmeriteddisgrace，nogentlemanofspiritcouldlonghesitate。Afterthreegulpsofthathot，snuffy，andmuddybeverage，thatpassesonthestreetsofLondonforadecoctionofthecoffeeberry，Gideon’smindwasmadeup。
Hewoulddowithoutthepolice。Hemustfacetheothersideofthedilemma，andbeRobertSkillinearnest。WhatwouldRobertSkillhavedone？Howdoesagentlemandisposeofadeadbody，honestlycomeby？Herememberedtheinimitablestoryofthehunchback;revieweditscourse，anddismisseditforaworthlessguide。ItwasimpossibletopropacorpseonthecornerofTottenhamCourtRoadwithoutarousingfatalcuriosityinthebosomsofthepassers—by;asforloweringitdownaLondonchimney，thephysicalobstacleswereinsurmountable。Togetitonboardatrainanddropitout，oronthetopofanomnibusanddropitoff，wereequallyoutofthequestion。Togetitonayachtanddropitoverboard，wasmoreconceivable;butforamanofmoderatemeansitseemedextravagant。Thehireoftheyachtwasinitselfaconsideration;thesubsequentsupportofthewholecrew（whichseemedanecessaryconsequence）wassimplynottobethoughtof。Hisuncleandthehouseboathereoccurredinveryluminouscolourstohismind。Amusicalcomposer（say，ofthenameofJimson）mightverywellsuffer，likeHogarth’smusicianbeforehim，fromthedisturbancesofLondon。Hemightverywellbepressedfortimetofinishanopera——saythecomicoperaOrangePekoe——OrangePekoe，musicbyJimson——’thisyoungmaestro，oneofthemostpromisingofourrecentEnglishschool’——vigorousentranceofthedrums，etc。——thewholecharacterofJimsonandhismusicaroseinbulkbeforethemindofGideon。WhatmorelikelythanJimson’sarrivalwithagrandpiano（say，atPadwick），andhisresidenceinahouseboatalonewiththeunfinishedscoreofOrangePekoe？Hissubsequentdisappearance，leavingnothingbehindbutanemptypianocase，itmightbemoredifficulttoaccountfor。Andyeteventhatwassusceptibleofexplanation。For，supposeJimsonhadgonemadoverafugalpassage，andhadthereupondestroyedtheaccompliceofhisinfamy，andplungedintothewelcomeriver？Whatend，onthewhole，moreprobableforamodernmusician？
’ByJove，I’lldoit，’criedGideon。’Jimsonistheboy！’
CHAPTERXI。TheMaestroJimsonMrEdwardHughBloomfieldhavingannouncedhisintentiontostayintheneighbourhoodofMaidenhead，whatmoreprobablethanthattheMaestroJimsonshouldturnhismindtowardPadwick？Nearthispleasantriversidevillageherememberedtohaveobservedanancient，weedyhouseboatlyingmooredbesideatuftofwillows。
Ithadstirredinhim，inhiscarelesshours，ashepulleddowntheriverunderamorefamiliarname，acertainsenseoftheromantic;andwhenthenicecontrivanceofhisstorywasalreadycompleteinhismind，hehadcomenearpullingitalldownagain，likeanungratefulclock，inordertointroduceachapterinwhichRichardSkill（whowasalwaysbeingdecoyedsomewhere）
shouldbedecoyedonboardthatlonelyhulkbyLordBellewandtheAmericandesperadoGinSling。Itwasfortunatehehadnotdoneso，hereflected，sincethehulkwasnowrequiredforverydifferentpurposes。
Jimson，amanofinconspicuouscostume，butinsinuatingmanners，hadlittledifficultyinfindingthehirelingwhohadchargeofthehouseboat，andstilllessinpersuadinghimtoresignhiscare。Therentwasalmostnominal，theentryimmediate，thekeywasexchangedagainstasuitableadvanceinmoney，andJimsonreturnedtotownbytheafternoontraintoseeaboutdispatchinghispiano。
’Iwillbedowntomorrow，’hehadsaidreassuringly。’Myoperaiswaitedforwithsuchimpatience，youknow。’
And，sureenough，aboutthehourofnoononthefollowingday，JimsonmighthavebeenobservedascendingtheriversideroadthatgoesfromPadwicktoGreatHaverham，carryinginonehandabasketofprovisions，andundertheotherarmaleathercasecontaining（itistobeconjectured）thescoreofOrangePekoe。
ItwasOctoberweather;thestone—greyskywasfulloflarks，theleadenmirroroftheThamesbrightenedwithautumnalfoliage，andthefallenleavesofthechestnutschirpedunderthecomposer’sfooting。ThereisnotimeoftheyearinEnglandmorecourageous;
andJimson，thoughhewasnotwithouthistroubles，whistledashewent。
AlittleabovePadwicktheriverliesverysolitary。Ontheoppositeshorethetreesofaprivateparkenclosetheview，thechimneysofthemansionjustprickingforthabovetheirclusters;
onthenearsidethepathisborderedbywillows。Closeamongtheselaythehouseboat，athingsosoiledbythetearsoftheoverhangingwillows，sogrownuponwithparasites，sodecayed，sobattered，soneglected，suchahauntofrats，soadvertisedastorehouseofrheumaticagonies，thattheheartofanintendingoccupantmightwellrecoil。Aplank，bywayofflyingdrawbridge，joinedittotheshore。AnditwasadrearymomentforJimsonwhenhepulledthisafterhimandfoundhimselfaloneonthisunwholesomefortress。Hecouldheartheratsscuttleandflopintheabhorredinterior;thekeycriedamongthewardslikeathinginpain;thesitting—roomwasdeepindust，andsmeltstrongofbilge—water。Itcouldnotbecalledacheerfulspot，evenforacomposerabsorbedinbelovedtoil;howmuchlessforayounggentlemanhauntedbyalarmsandawaitingthearrivalofacorpse！
Hesatdown，clearedawayapieceofthetable，andattackedthecoldluncheoninhisbasket。IncaseofanysubsequentinquiryintothefateofJimson，Itwasdesirableheshouldbelittleseen：inotherwords，thatheshouldspendthedayentirelyinthehouse。Tothisend，andfurthertocorroboratehisfable，hehadbroughtintheleathercasenotonlywritingmaterials，butareamoflarge—sizemusicpaper，suchasheconsideredsuitableforanambitiouscharacterlikeJimson’s。’Andnowtowork，’
saidhe，whenhehadsatisfiedhisappetite。’Wemustleavetracesofthewretchedman’sactivity。’Andhewroteinboldcharacters：
ORANGEPEKOE。
Op。17。
J。B。JIMSON。
Vocalandp。f。score。
’Isupposetheyneverdobeginlikethis，’reflectedGideon;’butthenit’squiteoutofthequestionformetotackleafullscore，andJimsonwassounconventional。Adedicationwouldbefoundconvincing，Ibelieve。\"Dedicatedto\"（letmesee）\"toWilliamEwartGladstone，byhisobedientservantthecomposer。\"
Andnowsomemusic：Ihadbetteravoidtheoverture;itseemstopresentdifficulties。Let’sgiveanairforthetenor：key——O，somethingmodern！——sevensharps。’Andhemadeabusinesslikesignatureacrossthestaves，andthenpausedandbrowsedforawhileonthehandleofhispen。Melody，withnobetterinspirationthanasheetofpaper，isnotusuallyfoundtospringunbiddeninthemindoftheamateur;noristhekeyofsevensharpsaplaceofmuchreposetotheuntried。Hecastawaythatsheet。’ItwillhelptobuildupthecharacterofJimson，’Gideonremarked，andagainwaitedonthemuse，invariouskeysandondiverssheetsofpaper，butallwithresultssoinconsiderablethathestoodaghast。’It’sveryodd，’thoughthe。’IseemtohavelessfancythanIthought，orthisisanoff—daywithme;
yetJimsonmustleavesomething。’Andagainhebenthimselftothetask。
Presentlythepenetratingchillofthehouseboatbegantoattacktheveryseatoflife。Hedesistedfromhisunremunerativetrial，and，totheaudibleannoyanceoftherats，walkedbrisklyupanddownthecabin。Stillhewascold。’Thisisallnonsense，’saidhe。’Idon’tcareabouttherisk，butIwillnotcatchacatarrh。
Imustgetoutofthisden。’
Hesteppedondeck，andpassingtothebowofhisembarkation，lookedforthefirsttimeuptheriver。Hestarted。Onlyafewhundredyardsaboveanotherhouseboatlaymooredamongthewillows。Itwasveryspick—and—span，anelegantcanoehungatthestern，thewindowswereconcealedbysnowycurtains，aflagfloatedfromastaff。ThemoreGideonlookedatit，themoretheremingledwithhisdisgustasenseofimpotentsurprise。Itwasverylikehisuncle’shouseboat;itwasexceedinglylike——itwasidentical。Butfortwocircumstances，hecouldhaveswornitwasthesame。Thefirst，thathisunclehadgonetoMaidenhead，mightbeexplainedawaybythatflightinessofpurposewhichissocommonatraitamongthemorethanusuallymanly。Thesecond，however，wasconclusive：itwasnotintheleastlikeMrBloomfieldtodisplayabanneronhisfloatingresidence;andifheeverdid，itwouldcertainlybedyedinhuesofemblematicalpropriety。NowtheSquirradical，likethevastmajorityofthemoremanly，haddrawnknowledgeatthewellsofCambridge——hewaswoodenspoonintheyear1850;andtheflaguponthehouseboatstreamedontheafternoonairwiththecoloursofthatseatofToryism，thatcradleofPuseyism，thathomeoftheinexactandtheeffeteOxford。Stillitwasstrangelylike，thoughtGideon。
Andashethuslookedandthought，thedooropened，andayoungladysteppedforthondeck。Thebarristerdroppedandfledintohiscabin——itwasJuliaHazeltine！Throughthewindowhewatchedherdrawinthecanoe，getonboardofit，castoff，andcomedroppingdownstreaminhisdirection。
’Well，allisupnow，’saidhe，andhefellonaseat。
’Good—afternoon，miss，’saidavoiceonthewater。Gideonknewitforthevoiceofhislandlord。
’Good—afternoon，’repliedJulia，’butIdon’tknowwhoyouare;
doI？Oyes，Idothough。Youarethenicemanthatgaveusleavetosketchfromtheoldhouseboat。’
Gideon’sheartleapedwithfear。
’That’sit，’returnedtheman。’AndwhatIwantedtosaywasasyoucouldn’tdoitanymore。YouseeI’veletit。’
’Letit！’criedJulia。
’Letitforamonth，’saidtheman。’Seemsstrange，don’tit？
Can’tseewhatthepartywantswithit？’
’Itseemsveryromanticofhim，Ithink，’saidJulia，’Whatsortofapersonishe？’
Juliainhercanoe，thelandlordinhiswherry，wereclosealongside，andholdingonbythegunwaleofthehouseboat;sothatnotawordwaslostonGideon。
’He’samusic—man，’saidthelandlord，’oratleastthat’swhathetoldme，miss;comedownheretowriteanop’ra。’
’Really！’criedJulia，’Ineverheardofanythingsodelightful！
Why，weshallbeabletoslipdownatnightandhearhimimprovise！What’ishisname？’
’Jimson，’saidtheman。
’Jimson？’repeatedJulia，andinterrogatedhermemoryinvain。
ButindeedourrisingschoolofEnglishmusicboastssomanyprofessorsthatwerarelyhearofonetillheismadeabaronet。
’Areyousureyouhaveitright？’
’Madehimspellittome，’repliedthelandlord。
’J—I—M—S—O—N——Jimson;andhisop’ra’scalled——somekindoftea。’
’SOMEKINDOFTEA！’criedthegirl。’Whataverysingularnameforanopera！Whatcanitbeabout？’AndGideonheardherprettylaughterflowabroad。’WemusttrytogetacquaintedwiththisMrJimson;Ifeelsurehemustbenice。’
’Well，miss，I’mafraidImustbegoingon。I’vegottobeatHaverham，yousee。’
’O，don’tletmekeepyou，youkindman！’saidJulia。’Goodafternoon。’
’Goodafternoontoyou，miss。’
Gideonsatinthecabinapreytothemostharrowingthoughts。
Herehewasanchoredtoarottinghouseboat，soontobeanchoredtoitstillmoreemphaticallybythepresenceofthecorpse，andherewasthecountrybuzzingabouthim，andyoungladiesalreadyproposingpleasurepartiestosurroundhishouseatnight。Well，thatmeantthegallows;andmuchhecaredforthat。WhattroubledhimnowwasJulia’sindescribablelevity。Thatgirlwouldscrapeacquaintancewithanybody;shehadnoreserve，noneoftheenamelofthelady。Shewasfamiliarwithabrutelikehislandlord;shetookanimmediateinterest（whichshelackedeventhedelicacytoconceal）inacreaturelikeJimson！HecouldconceiveheraskingJimsontohaveteawithher！AnditwasforagirllikethisthatamanlikeGideon——Down，manlyheart！
Hewasinterruptedbyasoundthatsenthimwhippingbehindthedoorinatrice。MissHazeltinehadsteppedonboardthehouseboat。Hersketchwaspromising;judgingfromthestillness，shesupposedJimsonnotyetcome;andshehaddecidedtoseizeoccasionandcompletetheworkofart。Downshesatthereforeinthebow，producedherblockandwater—colours，andwassoonsingingover（whatusedtobecalled）theladylikeaccomplishment。Nowandthenindeedhersongwasinterrupted，asshesearchedinhermemoryforsomeoftheodiouslittlereceiptsbymeansofwhichthegameispractised——orusedtobepractisedinthebravedaysofold;theysaytheworld，andthoseornamentsoftheworld，youngladies，arebecomemoresophisticatednow;
butJuliahadprobablystudiedunderPitman，andshestoodfirmintheoldways。
Gideon，meanwhile，stoodbehindthedoor，afraidtomove，afraidtobreathe，afraidtothinkofwhatmustfollow，rackedbyconfinementandbornetothegroundwithtedium。Thisparticularphase，hefeltwithgratitude，couldnotlastforever;whateverimpended（eventhegallows，hebitterlyandperhapserroneouslyreflected）couldnotfailtobearelief。Tocalculatecubesoccurredtohimasaningeniousandevenprofitablerefugefromdistressingthoughts，andhethrewhismanhoodintothatdrearyexercise。
Thus，then，werethesetwoyoungpersonsoccupied——Gideonattackingtheperfectnumberwithresolution;Juliavigorouslystipplingincongruouscoloursonherblock，whenProvidencedispatchedintothesewatersasteam—launchasthmaticallypantinguptheThames。Allalongthebanksthewaterswelledandfell，andthereedsrustled。Thehouseboatitself，thatancientstationarycreature，becamesuddenlyimbuedwithlife，androlledbrisklyathermoorings，likeasea—goingshipwhenshebeginstosmelltheharbourbar。Thewashhadnearlydiedaway，andthequickpantingofthelaunchsoundedalreadyfaintandfaroff，whenGideonwasstartledbyacryfromJulia。Peeringthroughthewindow，hebeheldherstaringdisconsolatelydownstreamatthefast—vanishingcanoe。Thebarrister（whateverwerehisfaults）
displayedonthisoccasionapromptitudeworthyofhishero，RobertSkill;withoneeffortofhismindheforesawwhatwasabouttofollow;withonemovementofhisbodyhedroppedtothefloorandcrawledunderthetable。
Julia，onherpart，wasnotyetalivetoherposition。Shesawshehadlostthecanoe，andshelookedforwardwithsomethinglessthanaviditytohernextinterviewwithMrBloomfield;butshehadnoideathatshewasimprisoned，forsheknewoftheplankbridge。
Shemadethecircuitofthehouse，andfoundthedooropenandthebridgewithdrawn。Itwasplain，then，thatJimsonmusthavecome;plain，too，thathemustbeonboard。Hemustbeaveryshymantohavesufferedthisinvasionofhisresidence，andmadenosign;andhercouragerosehigheratthethought。Hemustcomenow，shemustforcehimfromhisprivacy，fortheplankwastooheavyforhersinglestrength;soshetappedupontheopendoor。
Thenshetappedagain。
’MrJimson，’shecried，’MrJimson！here，come！——youmustcome，youknow，soonerorlater，forIcan’tgetoffwithoutyou。O，don’tbesoexceedinglysilly！O，please，come！’
Stilltherewasnoreply。
’Ifheisherehemustbemad，’shethought，withalittlefear。
