Japhet, In Search Of A Father by Frederick Marryat

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He then, to our astonishment, imitated the doctor's voice, and quoted
_prosody syntax, and Latin_. Timothy and I were still in astonishment,
when he continued, "If I had not found out that you were in want of
employ, and further, that your services would be useful to me, I should
not have made this discovery. Do you now think that you know enough to
enter into my service? It is light work, and not bad pay; and now you
may choose."

"I trust," said I, "that there is no dishonesty?"

"None that you need practise, if you are so scrupulous; perhaps your
scruples may some day be removed. I make the most of my wares--every
merchant does the same. I practise upon the folly of mankind--it is on
that, that wise men live."

Timothy gave me a push, and nodded his head for me to give my consent. I
reflected a few seconds, and at last I extended my hand. "I consent,"
replied I, "with the reservation I have made."

"You will not repent," said he; "and I will take your companion, not
that I want him particularly, but I do want you. The fact is, I want a
lad of gentlemanly address, and handsome appearance--with the very
knowledge you possess--and now we will say no more for the present.
By-the-bye, was that real Latin of yours?"

"No," replied I, laughing; "you quoted the grammar, and I replied with
medical prescriptions. One was as good as the other."

"Quite--nay, better; for the school-boys may find me out, but not you.
But now observe, when we come to the next cross road, we must get
down--at least, I expect so; but we shall know in a minute."

In about the time he mentioned, a dark, gipsy-looking man looked into
the wagon, and spoke to our acquaintance in an unknown language. He
replied in the same, and the man disappeared. We continued our route for
about a quarter of an hour, when he got out, asked us to follow him, and
speaking a few words to the fool, which I did not hear, left him and the
boy in the wagon. We paid our fare, took possession of our bundles, and
followed our new companion for a few minutes on the cross road, when he
stopped, and said, "I must now leave you, to prepare for your reception
into our fraternity; continue straight on this road until you arrive at
a lime-kiln, and wait there till I come."

He sprang over a stile, and took a direction verging at an angle from
the road, forced his way through a hedge, and disappeared from our
sight. "Upon my word, Timothy," said I, "I hardly know what to say to
this. Have we done right in trusting to this man, who, I am afraid! is
a great rogue? I do not much like mixing with these gipsy people, for
such I am sure he belongs to."

"I really do not see how we can do better," replied Timothy. "The world
is all before us, and we must force our own way through it. As for his
being a quack doctor, I see no great harm in that. People put their
faith in nostrums more than they do in regular medicines; and it is well
known that quack medicines, as they call them, cure as often as others,
merely for that very reason."

"Very true, Timothy; the mind once at ease, the body soon recovers, and
faith, even in quack medicines, will often make people whole; but do you
think that he does no more than impose upon people in that way?"

"He may, or he may not; at all events, we need do no more, I suppose."

"I am not sure of that; however, we shall see. He says we may be useful
to him, and I suppose we shall be, or he would not have engaged us--we
shall soon find out."

Chapter X

In which the reader is introduced to several new acquaintances, and
all connected with them, except birth and parentage, which appears
to be the one thing wanting throughout the whole of this work.

By this time we had arrived at the lime-kiln to which we had been
directed, and we sat down on our bundles, chatting for about five
minutes, when our new acquaintance made his appearance, with something
in his hand, tied up in a handkerchief.

"You may as well put your coats into your bundles, and put on these
frocks," said he, "you will appear better among us, and be better
received, for there is a _gathering_ now, and some of them are queer
customers. However, you have nothing to fear; when once you are with my
wife and me, you are quite safe; her little finger would protect you
from five hundred."

"Your wife! who, then, is she?" inquired I, as I put my head through the
smock frock.

"She is a great personage among the gipsies. She is, by descent, one of
the heads of the tribe, and none dare to disobey her."

"And you--are you a gipsy?"

"No, and yes. By birth I am not, but by choice, and marriage, I am
admitted; but I was not born under a hedge, I can assure you, although I
very often pass a night there now--that is, when I am domestic; but do
not think that you are to remain long here; we shall leave in a few
days, and may not meet the tribe again for months, although you may see
my own family occasionally. I did not ask you to join me to pass a
gipsy's life--no, no, we must be stirring and active. Come, we are now
close to them. Do not speak as you pass the huts, until you have entered
mine. Then you may do as you please."

We turned short round, passed through a gap in the hedge, and found
ourselves on a small retired piece of common, which was studded with
about twenty or thirty low gipsy huts. The fires were alight and
provisions apparently cooking. We passed by nine or ten, and obeyed our
guide's injunctions, to keep silence. At last we stopped, and perceived
ourselves to be standing by the fool, who was dressed like us, in a
smock frock, and Mr Jumbo, who was very busy making the pot boil,
blowing at the sticks underneath till he was black in the face. Several
of the men passed near us, and examined us with no very pleasant
expression of countenance; and we were not sorry to see our conductor,
who had gone into the hut, return, followed by a woman, to whom he was
speaking in the language of the tribe. "Nattee bids you welcome," said
he, as she approached.

Never in my life will the remembrance of the first appearance of Nattee,
and the effect it had upon me, be erased from my memory. She was tall,
too tall, had it not been for the perfect symmetry of her form. Her
face of a clear olive, and oval in shape; her eyes jetty black; nose
straight, and beautifully formed; mouth small, thin lips, with a slight
curl of disdain, and pearly teeth. I never beheld a woman of so
commanding a presence. Her feet were bare, but very small, as well as
her hands. On her fingers she wore many rings, of a curious old setting,
and a piece of gold hung on her forehead, where the hair was parted. She
looked at us, touched her high forehead with the ends of her fingers,
and waving her hand gracefully, said, in a soft voice, "You are
welcome," and then turned to her husband, speaking to him in her own
language, until by degrees they separated from us in earnest
conversation.

She returned to us after a short time, without her husband, and said, in
a voice, the notes of which were indeed soft, but the delivery of the
words was most determined; "I have said that you are welcome; sit down,
therefore, and share with us--fear nothing, you have no cause to fear.
Be faithful, then, while you serve him, and when you would quit us, say
so, and receive your leave to depart; but if you attempt to desert us
without permission, then we shall suspect that you are our enemies, and
treat you accordingly. There is your lodging while here," continued she,
pointing to another hut. "There is but one child with you, this boy
(pointing to Jumbo), who can lay at your feet. And now join us as
friends. Fleta, where are you?"

A soft voice answered from the tent of Nattee, and soon afterwards came
out a little girl, of about eleven years old. The appearance of this
child was a new source of interest. She was a little fairy figure, with
a skin as white as the driven snow--light auburn hair, and large blue
eyes; her dress was scanty, and showed a large portion of her taper
legs. She hastened to Nattee, and folding her arms across her breast,
stood still, saying meekly, "I am here."

"Know these as friends, Fleta. Send that lazy Num (this was Philotas,
the fool), for more wood, and see that Jumbo tends the fire."

Nattee smiled, and left us. I observed she went to where forty or fifty
of the tribe were assembled, in earnest discourse. She took her seat
with them, and marked deference was paid to her. In the meantime Jumbo
had blown up a brisk fire; we were employed by Fleta in shredding
vegetables, which she threw into the boiling kettle. Num appeared with
more fuel, and at last there was nothing more to do. Fleta sat down by
us, and parting her long hair, which had fallen over her eyes, looked us
both in the face.

"Who gave you that name, Fleta?" inquired I.

"They gave it me," replied she.

"And who are they?"

"Nattee, and Melchior, her husband."

"But you are not their daughter?"

"No, I am not--that is, I believe not."

The little girl stopped short, as if assured that she had said too much,
cast her eyes down on the ground, and folded her arms, so that her hands
rested on each opposite shoulder.

Timothy whispered to me, "She must have been stolen, depend upon it."

"Silence," said I.

The little girl overheard him, and looking at him, put her finger across
her mouth, looking to where Num and Jumbo were sitting. I felt an
interest for this child before I had been an hour in her company; she
was so graceful, so feminine, so mournful in the expression of her
countenance. That she was under restraint was evident; but still she did
not appear to be actuated by fear. Nattee was very kind to her, and the
child did not seem to be more reserved towards her than to others; her
mournful pensive look, was perhaps inherent to her nature. It was not
until long after our first acquaintance that I ever saw a smile upon her
features. Shortly after this little conversation Nattee returned,
walking with all the grace and dignity of a queen. Her husband, or
Melchior, as I shall in future call him, soon joined us, and we sat
down to our repast, which was excellent. It was composed of almost every
thing; sometimes I found myself busy with the wing of a fowl, at another
the leg of a rabbit--then a piece of mutton, or other flesh and fowl,
which I could hardly distinguish. To these were added every sort of
vegetable, among which potatoes predominated, forming a sort of stew,
which an epicure might have praised. I had a long conversation with
Melchior in the evening, and, not to weary the reader, I shall now
proceed to state all that I then and subsequently gathered from him and
others, relative to the parties with whom we were associating.

Melchior would not state who and what he was previous to his having
joined the fraternity of gipsies; that he was not of humble birth, and
that he had, when young, quitted his friends out of love for Nattee, or
from some other causes not to be revealed, he led me to surmise. He had
been many years in company with the tribe, and although, as one received
into it, he did not stand so high in rank and estimation as his wife,
still, from his marriage with Nattee, and his own peculiar
qualifications and dexterity, he was almost as absolute as she was.

Melchior and Nattee were supposed to be the most wealthy of all the
gipsies, and, at the same time, they were the most liberal of their
wealth. Melchior, it appeared, gained money in three different
characters; as a quack doctor, the character in which we first saw him;
secondly, as a juggler, in which art he was most expert; and thirdly, as
a fortune-teller, and _wise man_.

Nattee, as I before mentioned, was of very high rank, or caste, in her
tribe. At her first espousal of Melchior she lost much of her influence,
as it was considered a degradation; but she was then very young, and
must have been most beautiful. The talents of Melchior, and her own
spirit, however, soon enabled her to regain, and even add still more to,
her power and consideration among the tribe, and it was incredible to
what extent, with the means which she possessed, this power was
augmented.

Melchior had no children by his marriage, and, as far as I could judge
from the few words which would escape from the lips of Nattee, she did
not wish for any, as the race would not be considered pure. The
subdivision of the tribe which followed Nattee, consisted of about
forty, men, women, and children. These were ruled by her during the
absence of her husband, who alternately assumed different characters, as
suited his purpose; but in whatever town Melchior might happen to be,
Nattee and her tribe were never far off, and always encamped within
communication.

I ventured to question Melchior about the little Fleta; and he stated
that she was the child of a soldier's wife, who had been brought to bed,
and died a few hours afterwards; that, at the time, she was on her way
to join her husband, and had been taken ill on the road--had been
assisted by Nattee and her companions, as far as they were able--had
been buried by them, and that the child had been reared in the camp.

In time, the little girl became very intimate, and very partial to me. I
questioned her as to her birth, telling her what Melchior had stated;
for a long while she would not answer; the poor child had learned
caution even at that early age; but after we were more intimate, she
said, that which Melchior had stated was _not true_. She could recollect
very well living in a great house, with everything very fine about her;
but still it appeared as if it were a dream. She recollected two white
ponies--and a lady who was her mamma--and a mulberry-tree, where she
stained her frock; sometimes other things came to her memory, and then
she forgot them again. From this it was evident that she had been
stolen, and was probably of good parentage; certainly, if elegance and
symmetry of person and form, could prove blood, it never was more marked
than in this interesting child. Her abode with the gipsies, and their
peculiar mode of life and manners, had rendered her astonishingly
precocious in intellect; but of education she had none, except what was
instilled into her by Melchior, whom she always accompanied when he
assumed his character as a juggler. She then danced on the slack wire,
at the same time performing several feats in balancing, throwing of
oranges, &c. When Melchior was under other disguises, she remained in
the camp with Nattee.

Of Num, or Philotas, as Melchior thought proper to call him, I have
already spoken. He was a half-witted idiot, picked up in one of
Melchior's excursions, and as he stated to me, so did it prove to be the
fact, that when on the stage, and questioned as a fool, his natural
folly, and idiotical vacancy of countenance, were applauded by the
spectators as admirably assumed. Even at the alehouses and taverns where
we stopped, every one imagined that all his folly was pretence, and
looked upon him as a very clever fellow. There never was, perhaps, such
a lachrymose countenance as this poor lad's, and this added still more
to the mirth of others, being also considered as put on for the
occasion. Stephen Kemble played Falstaff without stuffing--Num played
the fool without any effort or preparation. Jumbo was also "picked up;"
this was not done by Melchior, who stated, that any body might have him
who claimed him; he tumbled with the fool upon the stage, and he also
ate pudding to amuse the spectators--the only part of the performance
which was suited to Jumbo's taste, for he was a terrible little glutton,
and never lost any opportunity of eating, as well as of sleeping.

And now, having described all our new companions, I must narrate what
passed between Melchior and me, the day after our joining the camp. He
first ran through his various professions, pointing out to me that as
juggler he required a confederate, in which capacity I might be very
useful, as he would soon instruct me in all his tricks. As a quack
doctor he wanted the services of both Tim and myself in mixing up,
making pills, &c., and also in assisting him in persuading the public of
his great skill. As a fortune-teller, I should also be of great service,
as he would explain to me hereafter. In short, he wanted a person of
good personal appearance and education, in whom he might confide in
every way. As to Tim, he might be made useful if he chose, in various
ways; amongst others, he wished him to learn tumbling and playing the
fool, when, at times, the fool was required to give a shrewd answer on
any point on which he would wish the public to be made acquainted. I
agreed to my own part of the performance, and then had some conversation
with Timothy, who immediately consented to do his best in what was
allotted as his share. Thus was the matter quickly arranged, Melchior
observing, that he had said nothing about remuneration, as I should find
that trusting to him was far preferable to stipulated wages.

Chapter XI

Whatever may be the opinion of the reader, he cannot assert that we
are _no conjurers_--We suit our wares to our customers, and our
profits are considerable.

We had been three days in the camp when the gathering was broken up,
each gang taking their own way. What the meeting was about I could not
exactly discover; one occasion of it was to make arrangements relative
to the different counties in which the subdivisions were to sojourn
during the next year, so that they might know where to communicate with
each other, and, at the same time, not interfere by being too near; but
there were many other points discussed, of which, as a stranger, I was
kept in ignorance. Melchior answered all my questions with apparent
candour, but his habitual deceit was such, that whether he told the
truth or not was impossible to be ascertained by his countenance.

When the gathering dispersed we packed up, and located ourselves about
two miles from the common, on the borders of a forest of oak and ash.
Our food was chiefly game, for we had some excellent poachers among us;
and as for fish, it appeared to be at their command; there was not a
pond nor a pit but they could tell in a moment if it were tenanted, and
if tenanted, in half an hour every fish would be floating on the top of
the water, by the throwing in of some intoxicating sort of berry; other
articles of food occasionally were found in the caldron; indeed, it was
impossible to fare better than we did, or at less expense.

Our tents were generally pitched not far from a pool of water, and to
avoid any unpleasant search, which sometimes would take place,
everything liable to detection was sunk under the water until it was
required for cooking; once in the pot, it was considered as safe. But
with the foraging, Timothy and I had nothing to do; we participated in
the eating, without asking any questions as to how it was procured.

My time was chiefly spent in company with Melchior, who initiated me
into all the mysteries of cups and balls--juggling of every
description--feats with cards, and made me acquainted with all his
apparatus for prepared tricks. For hours and hours was I employed by his
directions in what is called "making the pass" with a pack of cards, as
almost all tricks on cards depend upon your dexterity in this manoeuvre.
In about a month I was considered as a very fair adept; in the meantime,
Timothy had to undergo his career of gymnastics, and was to be seen all
day tumbling and retumbling, until he could tumble on his feet again.
Light and active, he soon became a very dexterous performer, and could
throw a somerset either backwards or forwards, walk on his hands, eat
fire, pull out ribbons, and do fifty other tricks to amuse a gaping
audience. Jumbo also was worked hard, to bring down his fat, and never
was allowed his dinner until he had given satisfaction to Melchior. Even
little Fleta had to practise occasionally, as we were preparing for an
expedition. Melchior, who appeared determined to create an effect, left
us for three days, and returned with not only dresses for Timothy and
me, but also new dresses for the rest of the company; and shortly
afterwards, bidding farewell to Nattee and the rest of the gipsies, we
all set out--that is, Melchior, I, Timothy, Fleta, Num, and Jumbo. Late
in the evening we arrived at the little town of ----, and took up our
quarters at a public-house, with the landlord of which Melchior had
already made arrangements.

"Well, Timothy," said I, as soon as we were in bed, "how do you like our
new life and prospects?"

"I like it better than Mr Cophagus's _rudimans_, and carrying out
physic, at all events. But how does your dignity like turning Merry
Andrew, Japhet?"

"To tell you the truth, I do not dislike it. There is a wildness and a
devil-may-care feeling connected with it which is grateful to me at
present. How long it may last I cannot tell; but for a year or two it
appears to me that we may be very happy. At all events, we shall see the
world, and have more than one profession to fall back upon."

"That is true; but there is one thing that annoys me, Japhet, which is,
we may have difficulty in leaving these people when we wish. Besides,
you forget that you are losing sight of the principal object you had in
view, that is, of 'finding out your father.'"

"I certainly never expect to find him among the gipsies," replied I,
"for children are at a premium with them. They steal from others, and
are not very likely therefore to leave them at the Foundling. But I do
not know whether I have not as good a chance in our present employment
as in any other. I have often been thinking that as fortune-tellers, we
may get hold of many strange secrets; however, we shall see. Melchior
says, that he intends to appear in that character as soon as he has made
a harvest in his present one."

"What do you think of Melchior, now that you have been so much with
him?"

"I think him an unprincipled man, but still with many good qualities.
He appears to have a pleasure in deceit, and to have waged war with the
world in general. Still he is generous, and, to a certain degree,
confiding; kind in his disposition, and apparently a very good husband.
There is something on his mind which weighs him down occasionally, and
checks him in the height of his mirth. It comes over him like a dark
cloud over a bright summer sun; and he is all gloom for a few minutes. I
do not think that he would now commit any great crime; but I have a
suspicion that he has done something which is a constant cause of
remorse."

"You are a very good judge of character, Japhet. But what a dear little
child is that Fleta! She may exclaim with you--'Who is my father?'"

"Yes, we are both in much the same predicament, and that it is which I
believe has so much increased my attachment to her. We are brother and
sister in misfortune, and a sister she ever shall be to me, if such is
the will of Heaven. But we must rise early to-morrow, Tim; so
good-night."

"Yes, to-morrow it will be juggle and tumble--eat fire--um--and so on,
as Mr Cophagus would have said; so good-night, Japhet."

The next morning we arrayed ourselves in our new habiliments; mine were
silk stockings, shoes, and white kerseymere kneed breeches, a blue silk
waistcoat loaded with tinsel, and a short jacket to correspond of blue
velvet, a sash round my waist, a hat and a plume of feathers. Timothy
declared I looked very handsome, and as the glass said the same as plain
as it could speak, I believed him. Timothy's dress was a pair of wide
Turkish trousers and red jacket, with spangles. The others were much the
same. Fleta was attired in small, white satin, Turkish trousers, blue
muslin and silver embroidered frock, worked sandals, and her hair
braided and plaited in long tails behind, and she looked like a little
sylph. Melchior's dress was precisely the same as mine, and a more
respectable company was seldom seen. Some musicians had been hired, and
handbills were now circulated all over the town, stating that Signor
Eugenio Velotti, with his company, would have the honour of performing
before the nobility and gentry. The bill contained the fare which was to
be provided, and intimated the hour of the performance, and the prices
to be paid for the seats. The performance was to take place in a very
large room attached to the inn, which, previous to the decadence of the
town, had been used as an assembly-room. A platform was erected on the
outside, on which were placed the musicians, and where we all
occasionally made our appearance in our splendid dresses to attract the
wonder of the people. There we strutted up and down, all but poor little
Fleta, who appeared to shrink at the display from intuitive modesty.
When the music ceased, a smart parley between Melchior and me, and
Philotas, and Timothy, as the two fools, would take place; and Melchior
declared, after the performance was over, that we conducted ourselves to
admiration.

"Pray, Mr Philotas, do me the favour to tell me how many people you
think are now present?" said Melchior to Num, in an imperative voice.

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