The unexpected success and favour with which his experiment atPortsmouth had been received, induced Mr Crummles to prolong his stay inthat town for a fortnight beyond the period he had originally assignedfor the duration of his visit, during which time Nicholas personated avast variety of characters with undiminished success, and attracted somany people to the theatre who had never been seen there before, thata benefit was considered by the manager a very promising speculation.Nicholas assenting to the terms proposed, the benefit was had, and by ithe realised no less a sum than twenty pounds.

Possessed of this unexpected wealth, his first act was to encloseto honest John Browdie the amount of his friendly loan, which heaccompanied with many expressions of gratitude and esteem, and manycordial wishes for his matrimonial happiness. To Newman Noggs heforwarded one half of the sum he had realised, entreating him to takean opportunity of handing it to Kate in secret, and conveying to her thewarmest assurances of his love and affection. He made no mention of theway in which he had employed himself; merely informing Newman thata letter addressed to him under his assumed name at the Post Office,Portsmouth, would readily find him, and entreating that worthy friend towrite full particulars of the situation of his mother and sister, andan account of all the grand things that Ralph Nickleby had done for themsince his departure from London.

'You are out of spirits,' said Smike, on the night after the letter hadbeen dispatched.

'Not I!' rejoined Nicholas, with assumed gaiety, for the confessionwould have made the boy miserable all night; 'I was thinking about mysister, Smike.'

'Sister!'

'Ay.'

'Is she like you?' inquired Smike.

'Why, so they say,' replied Nicholas, laughing, 'only a great dealhandsomer.'

'She must be VERY beautiful,' said Smike, after thinking a little whilewith his hands folded together, and his eyes bent upon his friend.

'Anybody who didn't know you as well as I do, my dear fellow, would sayyou were an accomplished courtier,' said Nicholas.

'I don't even know what that is,' replied Smike, shaking his head.'Shall I ever see your sister?'

'To be sure,' cried Nicholas; 'we shall all be together one of thesedays--when we are rich, Smike.'

'How is it that you, who are so kind and good to me, have nobody to bekind to you?' asked Smike. 'I cannot make that out.'

'Why, it is a long story,' replied Nicholas, 'and one you wouldhave some difficulty in comprehending, I fear. I have an enemy--youunderstand what that is?'

'Oh, yes, I understand that,' said Smike.

'Well, it is owing to him,' returned Nicholas. 'He is rich, and not soeasily punished as YOUR old enemy, Mr Squeers. He is my uncle, but he isa villain, and has done me wrong.'

'Has he though?' asked Smike, bending eagerly forward. 'What is hisname? Tell me his name.'

'Ralph--Ralph Nickleby.'

'Ralph Nickleby,' repeated Smike. 'Ralph. I'll get that name by heart.'

He had muttered it over to himself some twenty times, when a loud knockat the door disturbed him from his occupation. Before he could open it,Mr Folair, the pantomimist, thrust in his head.

Mr Folair's head was usually decorated with a very round hat, unusuallyhigh in the crown, and curled up quite tight in the brims. On thepresent occasion he wore it very much on one side, with the back partforward in consequence of its being the least rusty; round his neck hewore a flaming red worsted comforter, whereof the straggling ends peepedout beneath his threadbare Newmarket coat, which was very tight andbuttoned all the way up. He carried in his hand one very dirty glove,and a cheap dress cane with a glass handle; in short, his wholeappearance was unusually dashing, and demonstrated a far more scrupulousattention to his toilet than he was in the habit of bestowing upon it.

'Good-evening, sir,' said Mr Folair, taking off the tall hat, andrunning his fingers through his hair. 'I bring a communication. Hem!'

'From whom and what about?' inquired Nicholas. 'You are unusuallymysterious tonight.'

'Cold, perhaps,' returned Mr Folair; 'cold, perhaps. That is the faultof my position--not of myself, Mr Johnson. My position as a mutualfriend requires it, sir.' Mr Folair paused with a most impressive look,and diving into the hat before noticed, drew from thence a small pieceof whity-brown paper curiously folded, whence he brought forth a notewhich it had served to keep clean, and handing it over to Nicholas,said--

'Have the goodness to read that, sir.'

Nicholas, in a state of much amazement, took the note and broke theseal, glancing at Mr Folair as he did so, who, knitting his brow andpursing up his mouth with great dignity, was sitting with his eyessteadily fixed upon the ceiling.

It was directed to blank Johnson, Esq., by favour of Augustus Folair,Esq.; and the astonishment of Nicholas was in no degree lessened, whenhe found it to be couched in the following laconic terms:--

"Mr Lenville presents his kind regards to Mr Johnson, and will feelobliged if he will inform him at what hour tomorrow morning it will bemost convenient to him to meet Mr L. at the Theatre, for the purpose ofhaving his nose pulled in the presence of the company.

"Mr Lenville requests Mr Johnson not to neglect making an appointment,as he has invited two or three professional friends to witness theceremony, and cannot disappoint them upon any account whatever.

"PORTSMOUTH, TUESDAY NIGHT."

Indignant as he was at this impertinence, there was something soexquisitely absurd in such a cartel of defiance, that Nicholas wasobliged to bite his lip and read the note over two or three times beforehe could muster sufficient gravity and sternness to address the hostilemessenger, who had not taken his eyes from the ceiling, nor altered theexpression of his face in the slightest degree.

'Do you know the contents of this note, sir?' he asked, at length.

'Yes,' rejoined Mr Folair, looking round for an instant, and immediatelycarrying his eyes back again to the ceiling.

'And how dare you bring it here, sir?' asked Nicholas, tearing it intovery little pieces, and jerking it in a shower towards the messenger.'Had you no fear of being kicked downstairs, sir?'

Mr Folair turned his head--now ornamented with several fragments of thenote--towards Nicholas, and with the same imperturbable dignity, brieflyreplied 'No.'

'Then,' said Nicholas, taking up the tall hat and tossing it towards thedoor, 'you had better follow that article of your dress, sir, or youmay find yourself very disagreeably deceived, and that within a dozenseconds.'

'I say, Johnson,' remonstrated Mr Folair, suddenly losing all hisdignity, 'none of that, you know. No tricks with a gentleman'swardrobe.'

'Leave the room,' returned Nicholas. 'How could you presume to come hereon such an errand, you scoundrel?'

'Pooh! pooh!' said Mr Folair, unwinding his comforter, and graduallygetting himself out of it. 'There--that's enough.'

'Enough!' cried Nicholas, advancing towards him. 'Take yourself off,sir.'

'Pooh! pooh! I tell you,' returned Mr Folair, waving his hand indeprecation of any further wrath; 'I wasn't in earnest. I only broughtit in joke.'

'You had better be careful how you indulge in such jokes again,'said Nicholas, 'or you may find an allusion to pulling noses rather adangerous reminder for the subject of your facetiousness. Was it writtenin joke, too, pray?'

'No, no, that's the best of it,' returned the actor; 'right downearnest--honour bright.'

Nicholas could not repress a smile at the odd figure before him, which,at all times more calculated to provoke mirth than anger, was especiallyso at that moment, when with one knee upon the ground, Mr Folair twirledhis old hat round upon his hand, and affected the extremest agony lestany of the nap should have been knocked off--an ornament which it isalmost superfluous to say, it had not boasted for many months.

'Come, sir,' said Nicholas, laughing in spite of himself. 'Have thegoodness to explain.'

'Why, I'll tell you how it is,' said Mr Folair, sitting himself downin a chair with great coolness. 'Since you came here Lenville has donenothing but second business, and, instead of having a reception everynight as he used to have, they have let him come on as if he wasnobody.'

'What do you mean by a reception?' asked Nicholas.

'Jupiter!' exclaimed Mr Folair, 'what an unsophisticated shepherd youare, Johnson! Why, applause from the house when you first come on. So hehas gone on night after night, never getting a hand, and you getting acouple of rounds at least, and sometimes three, till at length he gotquite desperate, and had half a mind last night to play Tybalt with areal sword, and pink you--not dangerously, but just enough to lay you upfor a month or two.'

'Very considerate,' remarked Nicholas.

'Yes, I think it was under the circumstances; his professionalreputation being at stake,' said Mr Folair, quite seriously. 'But hisheart failed him, and he cast about for some other way of annoyingyou, and making himself popular at the same time--for that's the point.Notoriety, notoriety, is the thing. Bless you, if he had pinked you,'said Mr Folair, stopping to make a calculation in his mind, 'it wouldhave been worth--ah, it would have been worth eight or ten shillings aweek to him. All the town would have come to see the actor who nearlykilled a man by mistake; I shouldn't wonder if it had got him anengagement in London. However, he was obliged to try some other mode ofgetting popular, and this one occurred to him. It's clever idea, really.If you had shown the white feather, and let him pull your nose, he'dhave got it into the paper; if you had sworn the peace against him, itwould have been in the paper too, and he'd have been just as much talkedabout as you--don't you see?'

'Oh, certainly,' rejoined Nicholas; 'but suppose I were to turn thetables, and pull HIS nose, what then? Would that make his fortune?'

'Why, I don't think it would,' replied Mr Folair, scratching his head,'because there wouldn't be any romance about it, and he wouldn't befavourably known. To tell you the truth though, he didn't calculate muchupon that, for you're always so mild-spoken, and are so popular amongthe women, that we didn't suspect you of showing fight. If you did,however, he has a way of getting out of it easily, depend upon that.'

'Has he?' rejoined Nicholas. 'We will try, tomorrow morning. In themeantime, you can give whatever account of our interview you like best.Good-night.'

As Mr Folair was pretty well known among his fellow-actors for a man whodelighted in mischief, and was by no means scrupulous, Nicholas had notmuch doubt but that he had secretly prompted the tragedian in the coursehe had taken, and, moreover, that he would have carried his mission witha very high hand if he had not been disconcerted by the very unexpecteddemonstrations with which it had been received. It was not worth hiswhile to be serious with him, however, so he dismissed the pantomimist,with a gentle hint that if he offended again it would be underthe penalty of a broken head; and Mr Folair, taking the caution inexceedingly good part, walked away to confer with his principal,and give such an account of his proceedings as he might think bestcalculated to carry on the joke.

He had no doubt reported that Nicholas was in a state of extreme bodilyfear; for when that young gentleman walked with much deliberation downto the theatre next morning at the usual hour, he found all the companyassembled in evident expectation, and Mr Lenville, with his severeststage face, sitting majestically on a table, whistling defiance.

Now the ladies were on the side of Nicholas, and the gentlemen (beingjealous) were on the side of the disappointed tragedian; so that thelatter formed a little group about the redoubtable Mr Lenville, and theformer looked on at a little distance in some trepidation and anxiety.On Nicholas stopping to salute them, Mr Lenville laughed a scornfullaugh, and made some general remark touching the natural history ofpuppies.

'Oh!' said Nicholas, looking quietly round, 'are you there?'

'Slave!' returned Mr Lenville, flourishing his right arm, andapproaching Nicholas with a theatrical stride. But somehow he appearedjust at that moment a little startled, as if Nicholas did not look quiteso frightened as he had expected, and came all at once to an awkwardhalt, at which the assembled ladies burst into a shrill laugh.

'Object of my scorn and hatred!' said Mr Lenville, 'I hold ye incontempt.'

Nicholas laughed in very unexpected enjoyment of this performance; andthe ladies, by way of encouragement, laughed louder than before; whereatMr Lenville assumed his bitterest smile, and expressed his opinion thatthey were 'minions'.

'But they shall not protect ye!' said the tragedian, taking an upwardlook at Nicholas, beginning at his boots and ending at the crown of hishead, and then a downward one, beginning at the crown of his head,and ending at his boots--which two looks, as everybody knows, expressdefiance on the stage. 'They shall not protect ye--boy!'

Thus speaking, Mr Lenville folded his arms, and treated Nicholas to thatexpression of face with which, in melodramatic performances, he was inthe habit of regarding the tyrannical kings when they said, 'Awaywith him to the deepest dungeon beneath the castle moat;' and which,accompanied with a little jingling of fetters, had been known to producegreat effects in its time.

Whether it was the absence of the fetters or not, it made no very deepimpression on Mr Lenville's adversary, however, but rather seemed toincrease the good-humour expressed in his countenance; in which stage ofthe contest, one or two gentlemen, who had come out expressly to witnessthe pulling of Nicholas's nose, grew impatient, murmuring that if itwere to be done at all it had better be done at once, and that if MrLenville didn't mean to do it he had better say so, and not keep themwaiting there. Thus urged, the tragedian adjusted the cuff of his rightcoat sleeve for the performance of the operation, and walked in a verystately manner up to Nicholas, who suffered him to approach to withinthe 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 interestingstate) rushed from the rear rank of ladies, and uttering a piercingscream threw herself upon the body.

'Do you see this, monster? Do you see THIS?' cried Mr Lenville, sittingup, and pointing to his prostrate lady, who was holding him very tightround the waist.

'Come,' said Nicholas, nodding his head, 'apologise for the insolentnote 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 blightedcorse at your feet.'

'This is affecting!' said Mr Lenville, looking round him, and drawingthe 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 youhave the courage. There. Be careful, sir, to what lengths your jealousycarries you another time; and be careful, also, before you venturetoo far, to ascertain your rival's temper.' With this parting adviceNicholas picked up Mr Lenville's ash stick which had flown out of hishand, and breaking it in half, threw him the pieces and withdrew, bowingslightly to the spectators as he walked out.

The profoundest deference was paid to Nicholas that night, and thepeople who had been most anxious to have his nose pulled in the morning,embraced occasions of taking him aside, and telling him with greatfeeling, how very friendly they took it that he should have treated thatLenville so properly, who was a most unbearable fellow, and on whom theyhad all, by a remarkable coincidence, at one time or other contemplatedthe infliction of condign punishment, which they had only beenrestrained from administering by considerations of mercy; indeed, tojudge from the invariable termination of all these stories, there neverwas such a charitable and kind-hearted set of people as the male membersof Mr Crummles's company.

Nicholas bore his triumph, as he had his success in the little world ofthe theatre, with the utmost moderation and good humour. The crestfallenMr Lenville made an expiring effort to obtain revenge by sending aboy into the gallery to hiss, but he fell a sacrifice to popularindignation, and was promptly turned out without having his money back.

'Well, Smike,' said Nicholas when the first piece was over, and he hadalmost 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 crampeddirection; 'it's no easy matter to make his writing out. Let me see--letme see.'

By dint of poring over the letter for half an hour, he contrived to makehimself master of the contents, which were certainly not of a natureto set his mind at ease. Newman took upon himself to send back the tenpounds, observing that he had ascertained that neither Mrs Nickleby norKate was in actual want of money at the moment, and that a time mightshortly come when Nicholas might want it more. He entreated him not tobe alarmed at what he was about to say;--there was no bad news--theywere in good health--but he thought circumstances might occur, or wereoccurring, which would render it absolutely necessary that Kate shouldhave her brother's protection, and if so, Newman said, he would write tohim 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 itthe more he began to fear some treachery upon the part of Ralph. Onceor twice he felt tempted to repair to London at all hazards without anhour's delay, but a little reflection assured him that if such a stepwere necessary, Newman would have spoken out and told him so at once.

'At all events I should prepare them here for the possibility of mygoing away suddenly,' said Nicholas; 'I should lose no time in doingthat.' As the thought occurred to him, he took up his hat and hurried tothe green-room.

'Well, Mr Johnson,' said Mrs Crummles, who was seated there in fullregal 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 youleave 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 thatshe actually laid her hand upon the shoulder of the manageress forsupport.

'Why he don't mean to say he's going!' exclaimed Mrs Grudden, making herway 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 shedtears. Even the male performers stopped in their conversation, andechoed the word 'Going!' although some among them (and they had beenthe loudest in their congratulations that day) winked at each otheras though they would not be sorry to lose such a favoured rival; anopinion, indeed, which the honest Mr Folair, who was ready dressed forthe savage, openly stated in so many words to a demon with whom he wassharing a pot of porter.

Nicholas briefly said that he feared it would be so, although he couldnot yet speak with any degree of certainty; and getting away as soon ashe could, went home to con Newman's letter once more, and speculate uponit afresh.

How trifling all that had been occupying his time and thoughts for manyweeks seemed to him during that sleepless night, and how constantly andincessantly present to his imagination was the one idea that Kate in themidst of some great trouble and distress might even then be looking--andvainly too--for him!