Whether it was the absence of the fetters or not, it made no very deep impression on Mr. Lenville’s adversary, however, but rather seemed to increase the good-humour expressed in his countenance; in which stage of the contest, one or two gentlemen, who had come out expressly to witness the pulling of Nicholas’s nose, grew impatient, murmuring that if it were to be done at all it had better be done at once, and that if Mr. Lenville didn’t mean to do it he had better say so, and not keep them waiting there. Thus urged, the tragedian adjusted the cuff of his right coat sleeve for the performance of the operation, and walked in a very stately manner up to Nicholas, who suffered him to approach to within the requisite distance, and then, without the smallest discomposure, knocked him down.
Before the discomfited tragedian could raise his head from the boards, Mrs Lenville (who, as has been before hinted, was in an interesting state) rushed from the rear rank of ladies, and uttering a piercing scream threw herself upon the body.
‘Do you see this, monster? Do you see this?’ cried Mr. Lenville, sitting up, and pointing to his prostrate lady, who was holding him very tight round the waist.
‘Come,’ said Nicholas, nodding his head, ‘apologise for the insolent note you wrote to me last night, and waste no more time in talking.’
‘Never!’ cried Mr. Lenville.
‘Yes—yes—yes!’ screamed his wife. ‘For my sake—for mine, Lenville—forego all idle forms, unless you would see me a blighted corse at your feet.’
‘This is affecting!’ said Mr. Lenville, looking round him, and drawing the back of his hand across his eyes. ‘The ties of nature are strong. The weak husband and the father—the father that is yet to be—relents. I apologise.’
‘Humbly and submissively?’ said Nicholas.
‘Humbly and submissively,’ returned the tragedian, scowling upwards. ‘But only to save her,—for a time will come—’
‘Very good,’ said Nicholas; ‘I hope Mrs. Lenville may have a good one; and when it does come, and you are a father, you shall retract it if you have the courage. There. Be careful, sir, to what lengths your jealousy carries you another time; and be careful, also, before you venture too far, to ascertain your rival’s temper.’ With this parting advice Nicholas picked up Mr. Lenville’s ash stick which had flown out of his hand, and breaking it in half, threw him the pieces and withdrew, bowing slightly to the spectators as he walked out.
The profoundest deference was paid to Nicholas that night, and the people who had been most anxious to have his nose pulled in the morning, embraced occasions of taking him aside, and telling him with great feeling, how very friendly they took it that he should have treated that Lenville so properly, who was a most unbearable fellow, and on whom they had all, by a remarkable coincidence, at one time or other contemplated the infliction of condign punishment, which they had only been restrained from administering by considerations of mercy; indeed, to judge from the invariable termination of all these stories, there never was such a charitable and kind-hearted set of people as the male members of Mr Crummles’s company.
Nicholas bore his triumph, as he had his success in the little world of the theatre, with the utmost moderation and good humour. The crestfallen Mr. Lenville made an expiring effort to obtain revenge by sending a boy into the gallery to hiss, but he fell a sacrifice to popular indignation, and was promptly turned out without having his money back.
‘Well, Smike,’ said Nicholas when the first piece was over, and he had almost finished dressing to go home, ‘is there any letter yet?’
‘Yes,’ replied Smike, ‘I got this one from the post-office.’
‘From Newman Noggs,’ said Nicholas, casting his eye upon the cramped direction; ‘it’s no easy matter to make his writing out. Let me see—let me see.’
By dint of poring over the letter for half an hour, he contrived to make himself master of the contents, which were certainly not of a nature to set his mind at ease. Newman took upon himself to send back the ten pounds, observing that he had ascertained that neither Mrs. Nickleby nor Kate was in actual want of money at the moment, and that a time might shortly come when Nicholas might want it more. He entreated him not to be alarmed at what he was about to say;—there was no bad news—they were in good health—but he thought circumstances might occur, or were occurring, which would render it absolutely necessary that Kate should have her brother’s protection, and if so, Newman said, he would write to him to that effect, either by the next post or the next but one.
Nicholas read this passage very often, and the more he thought of it the more he began to fear some treachery upon the part of Ralph. Once or twice he felt tempted to repair to London at all hazards without an hour’s delay, but a little reflection assured him that if such a step were necessary, Newman would have spoken out and told him so at once.
‘At all events I should prepare them here for the possibility of my going away suddenly,’ said Nicholas; ‘I should lose no time in doing that.’ As the thought occurred to him, he took up his hat and hurried to the green-room.
‘Well, Mr. Johnson,’ said Mrs. Crummles, who was seated there in full regal costume, with the phenomenon as the Maiden in her maternal arms, ‘next week for Ryde, then for Winchester, then for—’
‘I have some reason to fear,’ interrupted Nicholas, ‘that before you leave here my career with you will have closed.’
‘Closed!’ cried Mrs. Crummles, raising her hands in astonishment.
‘Closed!’ cried Miss Snevellicci, trembling so much in her tights that she actually laid her hand upon the shoulder of the manageress for support.
‘Why he don’t mean to say he’s going!’ exclaimed Mrs. Grudden, making her way towards Mrs. Crummles. ‘Hoity toity! Nonsense.’
The phenomenon, being of an affectionate nature and moreover excitable, raised a loud cry, and Miss Belvawney and Miss Bravassa actually shed tears. Even the male performers stopped in their conversation, and echoed the word ‘Going!’ although some among them (and they had been the loudest in their congratulations that day) winked at each other as though they would not be sorry to lose such a favoured rival; an opinion, indeed, which the honest Mr. Folair, who was ready dressed for the savage, openly stated in so many words to a demon with whom he was sharing a pot of porter.
Nicholas briefly said that he feared it would be so, although he could not yet speak with any degree of certainty; and getting away as soon as he could, went home to con Newman’s letter once more, and speculate upon it afresh.
How trifling all that had been occupying his time and thoughts for many weeks seemed to him during that sleepless night, and how constantly and incessantly present to his imagination was the one idea that Kate in the midst of some great trouble and distress might even then be looking—and vainly too—for him!
Chapter 30.
Festivities are held in honour of Nicholas, who suddenly withdraws himself from the Society of Mr. Vincent Crummles and his Theatrical Companions
Mr. Vincent Crummles was no sooner acquainted with the public announcement which Nicholas had made relative to the probability of his shortly ceasing to be a member of the company, than he evinced many tokens of grief and consternation; and, in the extremity of his despair, even held out certain vague promises of a speedy improvement not only in the amount of his regular salary, but also in the contingent emoluments appertaining to his authorship. Finding Nicholas bent upon quitting the society—for he had now determined that, even if no further tidings came from Newman, he would, at all hazards, ease his mind by repairing to London and ascertaining