One day Gus Hoskins and I asked leave from Roundhand to be off at three o'clock, as we had PARTICULAR BUSINESS at the West End.He knew it was about the great Hoggarty diamond, and gave us permission; so off we set.When we reached St.Martin's Lane, Gus got a cigar, to give himself as it were a distingue air, and pulled at it all the way up the Lane, and through the alleys into Coventry Street, where Mr.Polonius's shop is, as everybody knows.
The door was open, and a number of carriages full of ladies were drawing up and setting down.Gus kept his hands in his pockets-- trousers were worn very full then, with large tucks, and pigeon- holes for your boots, or Bluchers, to come through (the fashionables wore boots, but we chaps in the City, on 80L.a year, contented ourselves with Bluchers); and as Gus stretched out his pantaloons as wide as he could from his hips, and kept blowing away at his cheroot, and clamping with the iron heels of his boots, and had very large whiskers for so young a man, he really looked quite the genteel thing, and was taken by everybody to be a person of consideration.
He would not come into the shop though, but stood staring at the gold pots and kettles in the window outside.I went in; and after a little hemming and hawing--for I had never been at such a fashionable place before--asked one of the gentlemen to let me speak to Mr.Polonius.
"What can I do for you, sir?" says Mr.Polonius, who was standing close by, as it happened, serving three ladies,--a very old one and two young ones, who were examining pearl necklaces very attentively.
"Sir," said I, producing my jewel out of my coat-pocket, "this jewel has, I believe, been in your house before: it belonged to my aunt, Mrs.Hoggarty, of Castle Hoggarty." The old lady standing near looked round as I spoke.
"I sold her a gold neck-chain and repeating watch in the year 1795," said Mr.Polonius, who made it a point to recollect everything; "and a silver punch-ladle to the Captain.How is the Major--Colonel--General-- eh, sir?""The General," said I, "I am sorry to say"--though I was quite proud that this man of fashion should address me so.--"Mr.Hoggarty is--no more.My aunt has made me a present, however, of this--this trinket--which, as you see, contains her husband's portrait, that I will thank you, sir, to preserve for me very carefully; and she wishes that you would set this diamond neatly.""Neatly and handsomely, of course, sir."
"Neatly, in the present fashion; and send down the account to her.There is a great deal of gold about the trinket, for which, of course, youwill make an allowance."
"To the last fraction of a sixpence," says Mr.Polonius, bowing, and looking at the jewel."It's a wonderful piece of goods, certainly," said he; "though the diamond's a neat little bit, certainly.Do, my Lady, look at it.The thing is of Irish manufacture, bears the stamp of '95, and will recall perhaps the times of your Ladyship's earliest youth.""Get ye out, Mr.Polonius!" said the old lady, a little wizen-faced old lady, with her face puckered up in a million of wrinkles."How DAR you, sir, to talk such nonsense to an old woman like me? Wasn't I fifty years old in '95, and a grandmother in '96?" She put out a pair of withered trembling hands, took up the locket, examined it for a minute, and then burst out laughing: "As I live, it's the great Hoggarty diamond!"Good heavens! what was this talisman that had come into my possession?
"Look, girls," continued the old lady: "this is the great jew'l of all Ireland.This red-faced man in the middle is poor Mick Hoggarty, a cousin of mine, who was in love with me in the year '84, when I had just lost your poor dear grandpapa.These thirteen sthreamers of red hair represent his thirteen celebrated sisters,-- Biddy, Minny, Thedy, Widdy (short for Williamina), Freddy, Izzy, Tizzy, Mysie, Grizzy, Polly, Dolly, Nell, and Bell--all married, all ugly, and all carr'ty hair.And of which are you the son, young man?--though, to do you justice, you're not like the family."Two pretty young ladies turned two pretty pairs of black eyes at me, and waited for an answer: which they would have had, only the old lady began rattling on a hundred stories about the thirteen ladies above named, and all their lovers, all their disappointments, and all the duels of Mick Hoggarty.She was a chronicle of fifty-years-old scandal.At last she was interrupted by a violent fit of coughing; at the conclusion of which Mr.Polonius very respectfully asked me where he should send the pin, and whether I would like the hair kept.
"No," says I, "never mind the hair." "And the pin, sir?"I had felt ashamed about telling my address:"But, bang it!" thought I,"why SHOULD I? -
'A king can make a belted knight, A marquess, duke, and a' that; An honest man's abune his might - Gude faith, he canna fa' that.'
Why need I care about telling these ladies where I live?""Sir," says I, "have the goodness to send the parcel, when done, to Mr.Titmarsh, No.3 Bell Lane, Salisbury Square, near St.Bride's Church, Fleet Street.Ring, if you please, the two-pair bell.""WHAT, sir?" said Mr.Polonius.
"HWAT!" shrieked the old lady."Mr.Hwat? Mais, ma chere, c'est impayable.Come along--here's the carr'age! Give me your arm, Mr.Hwat, and get inside, and tell me all about your thirteen aunts."She seized on my elbow and hobbled through the shop as fast as possible; the young ladies following her, laughing.
"Now, jump in, do you hear?" said she, poking her sharp nose out of the window.
"I can't, ma'am," says I; "I have a friend.""Pooh, pooh! send 'um to the juice, and jump in!" And before almost I could say a word, a great powdered fellow in yellow-plush breeches pushed me up the steps and banged the door to.
I looked just for one minute as the barouche drove away at Hoskins, and never shall forget his figure.There stood Gus, his mouth wide open, his eyes staring, a smoking cheroot in his hand, wondering with all his might at the strange thing that had just happened to me.
"Who IS that Titmarsh?" says Gus: "there's a coronet on the carriage, by Jingo!"
