“It may be very odd, sir; but, as I am very
well known in London, at the west end, perhaps we
have met there. Lord Windermear’s perhaps—Lady
Maelstrom’s?”—and I continued
mentioning about a dozen of the most fashionable names.
“At all events, you appear to have the advantage
of me; but I trust you will excuse my want of memory,
as my acquaintance is very extensive.”
“I see—quite a mistake—same
name, not same person—beg pardon, sir—apologies—and
so on,” replied the apothecary, drawing in a
long sigh.
I turn lawyer.
I watched the countenance of the agent, who appeared
at last to be satisfied that there had been some mistake;
at least he became more communicative, and as I no
longer put any questions to him relative to Sir Henry,
we had a long conversation. I spoke to him about
the De Benyons, making every inquiry that I could
think of. He informed me that the deceased earl,
the father of the present, had many sons, who were
some of them married, and that the family was extensive.
He appeared to know them all, the professions which
they had been brought up to, and their careers in
life. I treasured up his information, and, as
soon as I had an opportunity, wrote down all which
he had told me. On our arrival at Holyhead, the
weather was very boisterous, and the packet was to
depart immediately. Mr M’Dermott stated
his intentions to go over, but Mr Cophagus and the
professor declined, and, anxious as I was to proceed,
I did not wish to be any longer in company with the
agent, and, therefore, also declined going on board.
Mr M’Dermott called for a glass of brandy and
water, drank it off in haste, and then, followed by
the porter, with his luggage, went down to embark.
As soon as he was gone, I burst into a fit of laughter.
“Well, Mr Cophagus, acknowledge that it is possible
to persuade a man out of his senses. You knew
me, and you were perfectly right in asserting that
I was Japhet, yet did I persuade you at last that
you were mistaken. But I will explain to you
why I did so.”
“All right,” said the apothecary, taking
my proffered hand, “thought so—no
mistake—handsome fellow—so you
are—Japhet Newland—my apprentice—and
so on.”
“Yes, sir,” replied I, laughing, “I
am Japhet Newland.” (I turned round, hearing
a noise, the door had been opened, and Mr M’Dermott
had just stepped in; he had returned for an umbrella,
which he had forgotten; he looked at me, at Mr Cophagus,
who still held my hand in his, turned short round,
said nothing, and walked out.) “This is unfortunate,”
observed I, “my reason for not avowing myself,
was to deceive that very person, and now I have made
the avowal to his face; however, it cannot be helped.”
I sat down with my old master, and as I knew that
I could confide in him, gave him an outline of my
life, and stated my present intentions.
“I see, Japhet, I see—done mischief—sorry
for it—can’t be help’d—do
all I can—um—what’s to
be done?—be your friend—always
like you—help all I can—and
so on.”
