Sketches by Boz
by Charles Dickens
'Overton?'
'Yes: the mayor of this place--you sent me a letter with anonymous information, this afternoon.'
'I, sir?' exclaimed Trott with ill-dissembled surprise; for, coward as he was, he would willingly have repudiated the authorship of the letter in question. 'I, sir?'
'Yes, you, sir; did you not?' responded Overton, annoyed with what he supposed to be an extreme degree of unnecessary suspicion. 'Either this letter is yours, or it is not. If it be, we can converse securely upon the subject at once. If it be not, of course I have no more to say.'
'Stay, stay,' said Trott, 'it IS mine; I DID write it. What could I do, sir? I had no friend here.'
'To be sure, to be sure,' said the mayor, encouragingly, 'you could not have managed it better. Well, sir; it will be necessary for you to leave here to-night in a post-chaise and four. And the harder the boys drive, the better. You are not safe from pursuit.'
'Bless me!' exclaimed Trott, in an agony of apprehension, 'can such things happen in a country like this? Such unrelenting and cold- blooded hostility!' He wiped off the concentrated essence of cowardice that was oozing fast down his forehead, and looked aghast at Joseph Overton.
'It certainly is a very hard case,' replied the mayor with a smile, 'that, in a free country, people can't marry whom they like, without being hunted down as if they were criminals. However, in the present instance the lady is willing, you know, and that's the main point, after all.'
'Lady willing,' repeated Trott, mechanically. 'How do you know the lady's willing?'
'Come, that's a good one,' said the mayor, benevolently tapping Mr. Trott on the arm with his broad-brimmed hat; 'I have known her, well, for a long time; and if anybody could entertain the remotest doubt on the subject, I assure you I have none, nor need you have.'
'Dear me!' said Mr. Trott, ruminating. 'This is VERY extraordinary!'
'Well, Lord Peter,' said the mayor, rising.
'Lord Peter?' repeated Mr. Trott.
'Oh--ah, I forgot. Mr. Trott, then--Trott--very good, ha! ha!-- Well, sir, the chaise shall be ready at half-past twelve.'
'And what is to become of me until then?' inquired Mr. Trott, anxiously. 'Wouldn't it save appearances, if I were placed under some restraint?'
'Ah!' replied Overton, 'very good thought--capital idea indeed. I'll send somebody up directly. And if you make a little resistance when we put you in the chaise it wouldn't be amiss--look as if you didn't want to be taken away, you know.'
'To be sure,' said Trott--'to be sure.'
'Well, my lord,' said Overton, in a low tone, 'until then, I wish your lordship a good evening.'
'Lord--lordship?' ejaculated Trott again, falling back a step or two, and gazing, in unutterable wonder, on the countenance of the mayor.
'Ha-ha! I see, my lord--practising the madman?--very good indeed-- very vacant look--capital, my lord, capital--good evening, Mr.-- Trott--ha! ha! ha!'
'That mayor's decidedly drunk,' soliloquised Mr. Trott, throwing himself back in his chair, in an attitude of reflection.
'He is a much cleverer fellow than I thought him, that young nobleman--he carries it off uncommonly well,' thought Overton, as he went his way to the bar, there to complete his arrangements. This was soon done.