Involves a serious Catastrophe.

　　The little race-course at Hampton was in the full tide andheight of its gaiety; the day as dazzling as day could be; thesun high in the cloudless sky, and shining in its fullestsplendour. Every gaudy colour that fluttered in the air fromcarriage seat and garish tent top, shone out in its gaudiest hues.

　　Old dingy flags grew new again, faded gilding was re-burnished,stained rotten canvas looked a snowy white, the very beggars’ ragswere freshened up, and sentiment quite forgot its charity in itsfervent admiration of poverty so picturesque.

　　It was one of those scenes of life and animation, caught in itsvery brightest and freshest moments, which can scarcely fail toplease; for if the eye be tired of show and glare, or the ear beweary with a ceaseless round of noise, the one may repose, turnalmost where it will, on eager, happy, and expectant faces, and theother deaden all consciousness of more annoying sounds in thoseof mirth and exhilaration. Even the sunburnt faces of gypsychildren, half naked though they be, suggest a drop of comfort. Itis a pleasant thing to see that the sun has been there; to know thatthe air and light are on them every day; to feel that they arechildren, and lead children’s lives; that if their pillows be damp, itis with the dews of Heaven, and not with tears; that the limbs oftheir girls are free, and that they are not crippled by distortions,imposing an unnatural and horrible penance upon their sex; thattheir lives are spent, from day to day, at least among the waving trees, and not in the midst of dreadful engines which make youngchildren old before they know what childhood is, and give themthe exhaustion and infirmity of age, without, like age, the privilegeto die. God send that old nursery tales were true, and that gypsiesstole such children by the score!

　　The great race of the day had just been run; and the close linesof people, on either side of the course, suddenly breaking up andpouring into it, imparted a new liveliness to the scene, which wasagain all busy movement. Some hurried eagerly to catch a glimpseof the winning horse; others darted to and fro, searching, no lesseagerly, for the carriages they had left in quest of better stations.

　　Here, a little knot gathered round a pea and thimble table to watchthe plucking of some unhappy greenhorn; and there, anotherproprietor with his confederates in various disguises—one man inspectacles; another, with an eyeglass and a stylish hat; a third,dressed as a farmer well to do in the world, with his top-coat overhis arm and his flash notes in a large leathern pocket-book; and allwith heavy-handled whips to represent most innocent countryfellows who had trotted there on horseback—sought, by loud andnoisy talk and pretended play, to entrap some unwary customer,while the gentlemen confederates (of more villainous aspect still,in clean linen and good clothes), betrayed their close interest inthe concern by the anxious furtive glance they cast on all newcomers. These would be hanging on the outskirts of a wide circleof people assembled round some itinerant juggler, opposed, in histurn, by a noisy band of music, or the classic game of ‘Ring theBull,’ while ventriloquists holding dialogues with wooden dolls,and fortune-telling women smothering the cries of real babies,divided with them, and many more, the general attention of the company. Drinking-tents were full, glasses began to clink incarriages, hampers to be unpacked, tempting provisions to be setforth, knives and forks to rattle, champagne corks to fly, eyes tobrighten that were not dull before, and pickpockets to count theirgains during the last heat. The attention so recently strained onone object of interest, was now divided among a hundred; and lookwhere you would, there was a motley assemblage of feasting,laughing, talking, begging, gambling, and mummery.

　　Of the gambling-booths there was a plentiful show, flourishingin all the splendour of carpeted ground, striped hangings, crimsoncloth, pinnacled roofs, geranium pots, and livery servants. Therewere the Stranger’s club-house, the Athenaeum club-house, theHampton club-house, the St James’s club-house, and half a mile ofclub-houses to play in; and there were rouge-et-noir, Frenchhazard, and other games to play at. It is into one of these boothsthat our story takes its way.

　　Fitted up with three tables for the purposes of play, andcrowded with players and lookers on, it was, although the largestplace of the kind upon the course, intensely hot, notwithstandingthat a portion of the canvas roof was rolled back to admit more air,and there were two doors for a free passage in and out. Exceptingone or two men who, each with a long roll of half-crowns,chequered with a few stray sovereigns, in his left hand, stakedtheir money at every roll of the ball with a business-likesedateness which showed that they were used to it, and had beenplaying all day, and most probably all the day before, there was novery distinctive character about the players, who were chieflyyoung men, apparently attracted by curiosity, or staking smallsums as part of the amusement of the day, with no very great interest in winning or losing. There were two persons present,however, who, as peculiarly good specimens of a class, deserve apassing notice. Of these, one was a man of six or eight and fifty,who sat on a chair near one of the entrances of the booth, with hishands folded on the top of his stick, and his chin appearing abovethem. He was a tall, fat, long-bodied man, buttoned up to thethroat in a light green coat, which made his body look still longerthan it was. He wore, besides, drab breeches and gaiters, a whiteneckerchief, and a broad-brimmed white hat. Amid all the buzzingnoise of the games, and the perpetual passing in and out of thepeople, he seemed perfectly calm and abstracted, without thesmallest particle of excitement in his composition. He exhibited noindication of weariness, nor, to a casual observer, of interesteither. There he sat, quite still and collected. Sometimes, but veryrarely, he nodded to some passing face, or beckoned to a waiter toobey a call from one of the tables. The next instant he subsidedinto his old state. He might have been some profoundly deaf oldgentleman, who had come in to take a rest, or he might have beenpatiently waiting for a friend, without the least consciousness ofanybody’s presence, or fixed in a trance, or under the influence ofopium. People turned round and looked at him; he made nogesture, caught nobody’s eye, let them pass away, and others comeon and be succeeded by others, and took no notice. When he didmove, it seemed wonderful how he could have seen anything tooccasion it. And so, in truth, it was. But there was not a face thatpassed in or out, which this man failed to see; not a gesture at anyone of the three tables that was lost upon him; not a word, spokenby the bankers, but reached his ear; not a winner or loser he couldnot have marked. And he was the proprietor of the place.

　　 The other presided over the rouge-et-noir table. He wasprobably some ten years younger, and was a plump, paunchy,sturdy-looking fellow, with his under-lip a little pursed, from ahabit of counting money inwardly as he paid it, but with nodecidedly bad expression in his face, which was rather an honestand jolly one than otherwise. He wore no coat, the weather beinghot, and stood behind the table with a huge mound of crowns andhalf-crowns before him, and a cash-box for notes. This game wasconstantly playing. Perhaps twenty people would be staking at thesame time. This man had to roll the ball, to watch the stakes asthey were laid down, to gather them off the colour which lost, topay those who won, to do it all with the utmost dispatch, to roll theball again, and to keep this game perpetually alive. He did it allwith a rapidity absolutely marvellous; never hesitating, nevermaking a mistake, never stopping, and never ceasing to repeatsuch unconnected phrases as the following, which, partly fromhabit, and partly to have something appropriate and business-liketo say, he constantly poured out with the same monotonousemphasis, and in nearly the same order, all day long:

　　‘Rooge-a-nore from Paris! Gentlemen, make your game andback your own opinions—any time while the ball rolls—rooge-anore from Paris, gentlemen, it’s a French game, gentlemen, Ibrought it over myself, I did indeed!—Rooge-a-nore from Paris—black wins—black—stop a minute, sir, and I’ll pay you, directly—two there, half a pound there, three there—and one there—gentlemen, the ball’s a rolling—any time, sir, while the ball rolls!—The beauty of this game is, that you can double your stakes or putdown your money, gentlemen, any time while the ball rolls—blackagain—black wins—I never saw such a thing—I never did, in all my life, upon my word I never did; if any gentleman had beenbacking the black in the last five minutes he must have won five-and-forty pound in four rolls of the ball, he must indeed.

　　Gentlemen, we’ve port, sherry, cigars, and most excellentchampagne. Here, wai-ter, bring a bottle of champagne, and let’shave a dozen or fifteen cigars here—and let’s be comfortable,gentlemen—and bring some clean glasses—any time while the ballrolls!—I lost one hundred and thirty-seven pound yesterday,gentlemen, at one roll of the ball, I did indeed!—how do you do,sir?’ (recognising some knowing gentleman without any halt orchange of voice, and giving a wink so slight that it seems anaccident), ‘will you take a glass of sherry, sir?—here, wai-ter! bringa clean glass, and hand the sherry to this gentleman—and hand itround, will you, waiter?—this is the rooge-a-nore from Paris,gentlemen—any time while the ball rolls!—gentlemen, make yourgame, and back your own opinions—it’s the rooge-a-nore fromParis—quite a new game, I brought it over myself, I did indeed—gentlemen, the ball’s a-rolling!’

　　This officer was busily plying his vocation when half-a-dozenpersons sauntered through the booth, to whom, but withoutstopping either in his speech or work, he bowed respectfully; atthe same time directing, by a look, the attention of a man besidehim to the tallest figure in the group, in recognition of whom theproprietor pulled off his hat. This was Sir Mulberry Hawk, withwhom were his friend and pupil, and a small train of gentlemanly-dressed men, of characters more doubtful than obscure.

　　The proprietor, in a low voice, bade Sir Mulberry good-day. SirMulberry, in the same tone, bade the proprietor go to the devil,and turned to speak with his friends.

　　 There was evidently an irritable consciousness about him thathe was an object of curiosity, on this first occasion of showinghimself in public after the accident that had befallen him; and itwas easy to perceive that he appeared on the race-course, thatday, more in the hope of meeting with a great many people whoknew him, and so getting over as much as possible of theannoyance at once, than with any purpose of enjoying the sport.

　　There yet remained a slight scar upon his face, and whenever hewas recognised, as he was almost every minute by peoplesauntering in and out, he made a restless effort to conceal it withhis glove; showing how keenly he felt the disgrace he hadundergone.

　　‘Ah! Hawk,’ said one very sprucely-dressed personage in aNewmarket coat, a choice neckerchief, and all other accessories ofthe most unexceptionable kind. ‘How d’ye do, old fellow?’

　　This was a rival trainer of young noblemen and gentlemen, andthe person of all others whom Sir Mulberry most hated anddreaded to meet. They shook hands with excessive cordiality.

　　‘And how are you now, old fellow, hey?’

　　‘Quite well, quite well,’ said Sir Mulberry.

　　‘That’s right,’ said the other. ‘How d’ye do, Verisopht? He’s alittle pulled down, our friend here. Rather out of condition still,hey?’

　　It should be observed that the gentleman had very white teeth,and that when there was no excuse for laughing, he generallyfinished with the same monosyllable, which he uttered so as todisplay them.

　　‘He’s in very good condition; there’s nothing the matter withhim,’ said the young man carelessly.

　　 ‘Upon my soul I’m glad to hear it,’ rejoined the other. ‘Have youjust returned from Brussels?’

　　‘We only reached town late last night,’ said Lord Frederick. SirMulberry turned away to speak to one of his own party, andfeigned not to hear.

　　‘Now, upon my life,’ said the friend, affecting to speak in awhisper, ‘it’s an uncommonly bold and game thing in Hawk toshow himself so soon. I say it advisedly; there’s a vast deal ofcourage in it. You see he has just rusticated long enough to excitecuriosity, and not long enough for men to have forgotten thatdeuced unpleasant—by-the-bye—you know the rights of the affair,of course? Why did you never give those confounded papers thelie? I seldom read the papers, but I looked in the papers for that,and may I be—’

　　‘Look in the papers,’ interrupted Sir Mulberry, turningsuddenly round, ‘tomorrow—no, next day, will you?’

　　‘Upon my life, my dear fellow, I seldom or never read thepapers,’ said the other, shrugging his shoulders, ‘but I will, at yourrecommendation. What shall I look for?’

　　‘Good day,’ said Sir Mulberry, turning abruptly on his heel, anddrawing his pupil with him. Falling, again, into the loitering,careless pace at which they had entered, they lounged out, arm inarm.

　　‘I won’t give him a case of murder to read,’ muttered SirMulberry with an oath; ‘but it shall be something very near it ifwhipcord cuts and bludgeons bruise.’

　　His companion said nothing, but there was something in hismanner which galled Sir Mulberry to add, with nearly as muchferocity as if his friend had been Nicholas himself:

　　 ‘I sent Jenkins to old Nickleby before eight o’clock thismorning. He’s a staunch one; he was back with me before themessenger. I had it all from him in the first five minutes. I knowwhere this hound is to be met with; time and place both. Butthere’s no need to talk; tomorrow will soon be here.’

　　‘And wha-at’s to be done tomorrow?’ inquired Lord Frederick.

　　Sir Mulberry Hawk honoured him with an angry glance, butcondescended to return no verbal answer to this inquiry. Bothwalked sullenly on, as though their thoughts were busily occupied,until they were quite clear of the crowd, and almost alone, whenSir Mulberry wheeled round to return.

　　‘Stop,’ said his companion, ‘I want to speak to you in earnest.

　　Don’t turn back. Let us walk here, a few minutes.’

　　‘What have you to say to me, that you could not say yonder aswell as here?’ returned his Mentor, disengaging his arm.

　　‘Hawk,’ rejoined the other, ‘tell me; I must know.’

　　‘MUST know,’ interrupted the other disdainfully. ‘Whew! Goon. If you must know, of course there’s no escape for me. Mustknow!’

　　‘Must ask then,’ returned Lord Frederick, ‘and must press youfor a plain and straightforward answer. Is what you have just saidonly a mere whim of the moment, occasioned by your being out ofhumour and irritated, or is it your serious intention, and one thatyou have actually contemplated?’

　　‘Why, don’t you remember what passed on the subject onenight, when I was laid up with a broken limb?’ said Sir Mulberry,with a sneer.

　　‘Perfectly well.’

　　‘Then take that for an answer, in the devil’s name,’ replied Sir Mulberry, ‘and ask me for no other.’

　　Such was the ascendancy he had acquired over his dupe, andsuch the latter’s general habit of submission, that, for the moment,the young man seemed half afraid to pursue the subject. He soonovercame this feeling, however, if it had restrained him at all, andretorted angrily:

　　‘If I remember what passed at the time you speak of, Iexpressed a strong opinion on this subject, and said that, with myknowledge or consent, you never should do what you threatennow.’

　　‘Will you prevent me?’ asked Sir Mulberry, with a laugh.

　　‘Ye-es, if I can,’ returned the other, promptly.

　　‘A very proper saving clause, that last,’ said Sir Mulberry; ‘andone you stand in need of. Oh! look to your own business, and leaveme to look to mine.’

　　‘This is mine,’ retorted Lord Frederick. ‘I make it mine; I willmake it mine. It’s mine already. I am more compromised than Ishould be, as it is.’

　　‘Do as you please, and what you please, for yourself,’ said SirMulberry, affecting an easy good-humour.............