have refused the name of Japhet for ten thousand
pounds per annum. Lord Windermear, after having
introduced me, did not consider it at all necessary
to acquaint the Major with my real history, as it
was imparted to him in confidence. He allowed
matters to take their course, and me to work my own
way in the world. Thus do the most cunning overreach
themselves, and with their eyes open to any deceit
on the part of others, prove quite blind when they
deceive themselves.
Timothy could not obtain any intelligence from the
people of the inn at the last stage, except that the
chariot had proceeded to London. We arrived late
at night, and, much exhausted, I was glad to go to
bed.
In following my nose,
I narrowly escaped being nosed by a Beak.
And as I lay in my bed, thinking that I was now nearly
twenty years old, and had not yet made any discovery,
my heart sank within me. My monomania returned
with redoubled force, and I resolved to renew my search
with vigour. So I told Timothy the next morning,
when he came into my room, but from him I received
little consolation; he advised me to look out for
a good match in a rich wife, and leave time to develop
the mystery of my birth; pointing out the little chance
I ever had of success.
Town was not full, the season had hardly commenced,
and we had few invitations or visits to distract my
thoughts from their object. My leg became so
painful, that for a week I was on the sofa, Timothy
every day going out to ascertain if he could find
the person whom we had seen resembling me, and every
evening returning without success, I became melancholy
and nervous. Carbonnell could not imagine what
was the matter with me. At last I was able to
walk, and I sallied forth, perambulating, or rather
running through street after street, looking into every
carriage, so as to occasion surprise to the occupants,
who believed me mad; my dress and person were disordered,
for I had become indifferent to it, and Timothy himself
believed that I was going out of my senses.
At last, after we had been in town about five weeks,
I saw the very object of my search, seated in a carriage,
of a dark brown colour, arms painted in shades, so
as not to be distinguishable but at a near approach;
his hat was off, and he sat upright and formally.
“That is he!” ejaculated I, and away I
ran after the carriage. “It is the nose,”
cried I, as I ran down the street, knocking every one
to the right and left. I lost my hat, but fearful
of losing sight of the carriage, I hastened on, when
I heard a cry of “Stop him, stop him!”
“Stop him,” cried I, also, referring to
the gentleman in black in the carriage.
“That won’t do,” cried a man, seizing
me by the collar; “I know a trick worth two
of that.”
