Vanity Fair - Page 192/573

Mr. Osborne's countenance, when he arrived in the City at his usual

time, struck those dependants who were accustomed, for good reasons, to

watch its expression, as peculiarly ghastly and worn. At twelve

o'clock Mr. Higgs (of the firm of Higgs & Blatherwick, solicitors,

Bedford Row) called by appointment, and was ushered into the governor's

private room, and closeted there for more than an hour. At about one

Mr. Chopper received a note brought by Captain Dobbin's man, and

containing an inclosure for Mr. Osborne, which the clerk went in and

delivered. A short time afterwards Mr. Chopper and Mr. Birch, the next

clerk, were summoned, and requested to witness a paper. "I've been

making a new will," Mr. Osborne said, to which these gentlemen appended

their names accordingly. No conversation passed. Mr. Higgs looked

exceedingly grave as he came into the outer rooms, and very hard in Mr.

Chopper's face; but there were not any explanations. It was remarked

that Mr. Osborne was particularly quiet and gentle all day, to the

surprise of those who had augured ill from his darkling demeanour. He

called no man names that day, and was not heard to swear once. He left

business early; and before going away, summoned his chief clerk once

more, and having given him general instructions, asked him, after some

seeming hesitation and reluctance to speak, if he knew whether Captain

Dobbin was in town?

Chopper said he believed he was. Indeed both of them knew the fact

perfectly.

Osborne took a letter directed to that officer, and giving it to the

clerk, requested the latter to deliver it into Dobbin's own hands

immediately.

"And now, Chopper," says he, taking his hat, and with a strange look,

"my mind will be easy." Exactly as the clock struck two (there was no

doubt an appointment between the pair) Mr. Frederick Bullock called,

and he and Mr. Osborne walked away together.

The Colonel of the --th regiment, in which Messieurs Dobbin and Osborne

had companies, was an old General who had made his first campaign under

Wolfe at Quebec, and was long since quite too old and feeble for

command; but he took some interest in the regiment of which he was the

nominal head, and made certain of his young officers welcome at his

table, a kind of hospitality which I believe is not now common amongst

his brethren. Captain Dobbin was an especial favourite of this old

General. Dobbin was versed in the literature of his profession, and

could talk about the great Frederick, and the Empress Queen, and their

wars, almost as well as the General himself, who was indifferent to the

triumphs of the present day, and whose heart was with the tacticians of

fifty years back. This officer sent a summons to Dobbin to come and

breakfast with him, on the morning when Mr. Osborne altered his will

and Mr. Chopper put on his best shirt frill, and then informed his

young favourite, a couple of days in advance, of that which they were

all expecting--a marching order to go to Belgium. The order for the

regiment to hold itself in readiness would leave the Horse Guards in a

day or two; and as transports were in plenty, they would get their

route before the week was over. Recruits had come in during the stay

of the regiment at Chatham; and the old General hoped that the regiment

which had helped to beat Montcalm in Canada, and to rout Mr. Washington

on Long Island, would prove itself worthy of its historical reputation

on the oft-trodden battle-grounds of the Low Countries. "And so, my

good friend, if you have any affaire la," said the old General, taking a

pinch of snuff with his trembling white old hand, and then pointing to

the spot of his robe de chambre under which his heart was still feebly

beating, "if you have any Phillis to console, or to bid farewell to

papa and mamma, or any will to make, I recommend you to set about your

business without delay." With which the General gave his young friend a

finger to shake, and a good-natured nod of his powdered and pigtailed

head; and the door being closed upon Dobbin, sate down to pen a poulet

(he was exceedingly vain of his French) to Mademoiselle Amenaide of His

Majesty's Theatre.