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ON HIS WAY THROUGH THE WORLD 229
it was a sword : some weapon of execution, at any rate, as we
frequently may see. A day passes : no assassin darts at the
Doctor as he threads the dim Opera Colonnade passage on his way
to his club. A week goes by : no stiletto is plunged into his wellwadded
breast as he steps from his carriage at some noble patient's
door. Philip says he never knew his father more pleasant, easy,
good-humoured, and affable than during this period, when he must
have felt that a danger was hanging over him of which his son at
this time had no idea. I dined in Old Parr Street once in this
memorable period (memorable it seemed to me from immediately
subsequent events). Never was the dinner better served : the wine
more excellent : the guests and conversation more gravely respectable
than at this entertainment; and my neighbour remarked with
pleasure how the father and son seemed to be on much better terms
than ordinary. The Doctor addressed Philip pointedly once or twice ;
alluded to his foreign travels, spoke of his mother's family—it was
most gratifying to see the pair together. Day after day passes so.
The enemy has disappeared. At least, the lining of his dirty hat
is no longer visible on the broad marble table of Dr. Firmin's hall.
But one day—it may be ten days after the quarrel—a little
messenger comes to Philip, and says, " Philip dear, I am sure there
is something wrong ; that horrible Hunt has been here with a very
quiet soft-spoken old gentleman, and they have been going on with
my poor pa about my wrongs and his—his, indeed !—and they have
worked him up to believe that somebody has cheated his (laughter
out of a great fortune ; and who can that somebody be but your
father ? And whenever they see mc coming, papa and that horrid
Hunt go off to the ' Admiral Byng ': and one night when pa came
home he said, ' Bless you, bless you, my poor innocent injured
child ; and blessed you will be, mark a fond father's words !' They
are scheming something against Philip and Philip's father. Mr.
Bond the soft-spoken old gentleman's name is : and twice there has
been a Mr. Walls to inquire if Mr. Hunt was at our house."
" Mr. Bond ?—Mr. Walls ?—A gentleman of the name of Bond
was Uncle Twysden's attorney. An old gentleman, with a bald
head, and one eye bigger than the other ?"
"Well, this old man has one smaller than the other, I do
think," says Caroline. " First man who came was Mr. Walls—a
rattling young fashionable chap, always laughing, talking about
theatres, operas, everything—came home from the 'Byng' along
with pa and his new friend—oh! I do hate him, that man, that
Hunt !—then he brought the old man, this Mr. Bond. What are
they scheming against you, Philip ? I tell you this matter is all
about you and your father."