(97) CHAPTER VIII. "I have long dreamed of such a kind of man, For Heaven doth know, so shall the world perceive, ALDERMAN ELLIOTT, it has been seen, absented himself from "the Lodge" upon two successive evenings—an enormity that filled Brother Coates with so much alarm, that the old gentleman, all disquietude and apprehension, called upon his kinsman to learn the cause of his absence. The cunning old fox, to impart solemnity and importance to his visit, led the alderman to believe that he was delegated by the members of the Lodge to obtain a formal explanation of his conduct. "Brother Elliott, why were you absent from the Lodge on our two last meetings?" demanded the old fellow, with a stern H ness and authority becoming a grand Inquisitor-"I ask you the question, as I shall be obliged to report your answer to the brethren to-morrow." "My dear Bob, I have not been at all the same man I was for some time past," returned the alderman, in a subdued and mournful tone, such as would proceed from an invalid who had learned for the first time that he laboured under a mortal disease which no human skill could alleviate; "I have been labouring under an affection which I did my best to combat against, but to which I have been obliged at last to succumb; I'm not right here, Bob, that's the fact;" and, pressing his hand over the region of his heart, he looked dolefully in his friend's face, yet with a sly twinkle in his eye, and a twittering round the corners of his mouth, that imparted a comic expression to his countenance, altogether at variance with his statement. "God bless us! you don't mean to say you've got disease of the heart ?" exclaimed Bob Coates, jumping from his seat, quite aghast, while he surveyed his afflicted friend with the most anxious concern. "I'm afraid it's too true, Bob," returned the alderman, with difficulty preserving his gravity; for the expression of anxiety and alarm on poor old Coates's withered and besotted countenance was ludicrous in the extreme. "My poor dear fellow, how I feel for you!" continued Bob Coates, with the utmost sympathy and condolence. "I'm told there's no complaint so treacherous as these diseases of the heart." "None, Bob," returned the alderman, with energy; "and they always come so unexpectedly, and when they do come, 'tis so difficult to shake them off.” "It's impossible to do so, David," returned Coatesthen, fearing to alarm his friend, he added, "that is, when the disease has once obtained a firm hold of you.” "There's the worst of it, Bob," broke in the alderman; "in my case I'm afraid I've encouraged the malady, so as to allow it to overmaster me. It's chronic, Bob,-it's chronic;" and, again pressing his hand to his bosom, he groaned audibly, to his old friend's evident alarm. "Davy, my boy, we must look to this at once-we must rouse ourselves; we'll call in the first physicians of the day. Doctors have been known to effect wonders before now." "I've no faith at all in doctors," returned the alderman, in sepulchral tones-"the malady that I am afflicted with is entirely beyond their control." "Oh, now don't say so," returned old Coates, rising from his seat, and pacing the room in the greatest trepidation and alarm. "Terrible news this will be to the brethren! terrible news! we little thought when we missed you at the festive board last night, that your valuable life was in danger-oh dear! oh dear!" And, quite overcome, he threw himself into a seat, and either feeling or affecting a sudden weakness, he begged of his kinsman to administer a stimulant.-"The cowld perspiration's on my forehead," said he, "and I've a wakeness down the small of my back; and if you'd just let me have a drain of something warm, you'd revive me; for raly I want the like after the startling intelligence you've conveyed to me." Alarmed for his old friend, Elliott promptly produced a flask of brandy, and, pouring out a glassful, was about to dilute it with water, when old Coates, observing the movement, murmured gently, "Nate this time, David,— nate-'twill bring me round the speedier;" and in obedience to the request his friend handed him a supply of the ardent spirit, which the old fellow despatched with the ease that an infant swallows new milk. "That will do, David,-bless you-I'm quite myself now," he returned, brightening up; "the French are a wonderful people surely, I mean in regard of the drop o' the drink, for their brandy is beautiful. But to return to yourself, David-what's to be done at all? that's what I want to know." "I only know of one remedy, Bob," returned the alderman, with the same droll expression on his face that has before been remarked, "and that I'm resolved to try; it's a serious one, Bob-for when you once venture upon it, you must continue it all your life, whether it agrees with you or not.” "What is it, Davy my boy? what is it?" asked Coates. "It's a receipt of my own; and, kill or cure, I intend to venture upon it," was the alderman's response. "Don't resort to quackery, David, for thousands have been killed by it," argued Bob Coates; "there's that rascal O'Rafferty Macan killing people by hundreds with his nostrums, yet making a fortune by his villiany, and calling himself a philanthropist at the same time— avoid him, David, as you would the plague." "Never fear, Bob," returned Elliott, laughing heartily, in spite of himself; "I don't mean to patronize any of Professor Macan's fraternity, or their nostrums." "But what is it, David? what is it, my boy?" urged Coates, all curiosity and impatience. "I'm afraid, Bob, you'd consider the remedy so dangerous, that you'd disapprove of it altogether; so you must excuse me for not disclosing it at present. Of this, however, you may be assured, that it is not so very formidable after all; for I've known many others in exactly the same condition as myself who have tried it with the greatest success. In fact, Bob, I'm so sanguine on the subject as to consider it a complete cure.' "Well, that is very consolatory," returned old Coates; "and you raly think the recipe you spake of will prove serviceable to you." "Think, Bob! I'm sure of it." "Well raly I'm delighted at all this, yes; de-lighted," returned Mr. Coates; " aye, and so will Debby be when she hears the news; that is, she'll be happy to find you're not in danger of your life." The lady alluded to as Debby was Mr. Coates's daughter, whom he had designed for young Elliott's partner. "Ah! by-the-bye, Bob, how is Deborah ?" asked the alderman, reminded of that young lady by Bob Coates's allusion; "you mentioned some time back that she was poorly." |