from which three individuals
had alighted--one of them the postillion said was a mean-looking
scoundrel, with a regular petty-larceny expression in his countenance. He
was dressed very much like the man in black, and the postillion said that
he could almost have taken his Bible oath that they were both of the same
profession. The other two he said were parsons, he could swear that,
though he had never seen them before; there could be no mistake about
them. Church of England parsons the postillion swore they were, with
their black coats, white cravats, and airs, in which clumsiness and
conceit were most funnily blended--Church of England parsons of the
Platitude description, who had been in Italy, and seen the Pope, and
kissed his toe, and picked up a little broken Italian, and come home
greater fools than they went forth. It appeared that they were all
acquaintances of Mr. Platitude, for when the postillion had alighted and
let Mr. Platitude and his companion out of the chaise, Mr. Platitude
shook the whole three by the hand, conversed with his two brothers in a
little broken jergo, and addressed the petty-larceny looking individual
by the title of Reverend Doctor. In the midst of these greetings,
however, the postillion said the man in black came up to him, and
proceeded to settle with him for the chaise; he had shaken hands with
nobody, and had merely nodded to the others; "and now," said the
postillion, "he evidently wished to get rid of me, fearing, probably,
that I should see too much of the nonsense that was going on. It was
whilst settling with me that he seemed to recognize me for the first
time, for he stared hard at me, and at last asked whether I had not been
in Italy; to which question, with a nod and a laugh, I replied that I
had. I was then going to ask him about the health of the image of Holy
Mary, and to say that I hoped it had recovered from its horsewhipping;
but he interrupted me, paid me the money for the fare, and gave me a
crown for myself, saying he would not detain me any longer. I say,
partner, I am a poor postillion, but when he gave me the crown I had a
good mind to fling it in his face. I reflected, however, that it was not
mere gift-money, but coin which I had earned, and hardly too, so I put it
in my pocket, and I bethought me, moreover, that, knave as I knew him to
be, he had always treated me with civility; so I nodded to him, and he
said something which, perhaps, he meant for Lat