In Which Mr. Osborne Takes Down the Family Bible

So having prepared the sisters, Dobbin hastened away to the City to perform the rest and more difficult part of the task which he had undertaken. The idea of facing old Osborne rendered him not a little nervous, and more than once he thought of leaving the young ladies to communicate the secret, which, as he was aware, they could not long retain. But he had promised to report to George upon the manner in which the elder Osborne bore the intelligence; so going into the City to the paternal counting-house in Thames Street, he despatched thence a note to Mr. Osborne begging for a half-hour’s conversation relative to the affairs of his son George. Dobbin’s messenger returned from Mr. Osborne’s house of business, with the compliments of the latter, who would be very happy to see the Captain immediately, and away accordingly Dobbin went to confront him.

The Captain, with a half-guilty secret to confess, and with the prospect of a painful and stormy interview before him, entered Mr. Osborne’s offices with a most dismal countenance and abashed gait, and, passing through the outer room where Mr. Chopper presided, was greeted by that functionary from his desk with a waggish air which farther discomfited him. Mr. Chopper winked and nodded and pointed his pen towards his patron’s door, and said, “You’ll find the governor all right,” with the most provoking good humour.

Osborne rose too, and shook him heartily by the hand, and said, “How do, my dear boy?” with a cordiality that made poor George’s ambassador feel doubly guilty. His hand lay as if dead in the old gentleman’s grasp. He felt that he, Dobbin, was more or less the cause of all that had happened. It was he had brought back George to Amelia: it was he had applauded, encouraged, transacted almost the marriage which he was come to reveal to George’s father: and the latter was receiving him with smiles of welcome; patting him on the shoulder, and calling him “Dobbin, my dear boy.” The envoy had indeed good reason to hang his head.

Osborne fully believed that Dobbin had come to announce his son’s surrender. Mr. Chopper and his principal were talking over the matter between George and his father, at the very moment when Dobbin’s messenger arrived. Both agreed that George was sending in his submission. Both had been expecting it for some days—and “Lord! Chopper, what a marriage we’ll have!” Mr. Osborne said to his clerk, snapping his big fingers, and jingling all the guineas and shillings in his great pockets as he eyed his subordinate with a look of triumph.

With similar operations conducted in both pockets, and a knowing jolly air, Osborne from his chair regarded Dobbin seated blank and silent opposite to him. “What a bumpkin he is for a Captain in the army,” old Osborne thought. “I wonder George hasn’t taught him better manners.”

At last Dobbin summoned courage to begin. “Sir,” said he, “I’ve brought you some very grave news. I have been at the Horse Guards this morning, and there’s no doubt that our regiment will be ordered abroad, and on its way to Belgium before the week is over. And you know, sir, that we shan’t be home again before a tussle which may be fatal to many of us.” Osborne looked grave. “My s— , the regiment will do its duty, sir, I daresay,” he said.

“The French are very strong, sir,” Dobbin went on. “The Russians and Austrians will be a long time before they can bring their troops down. We shall have the first of the fight, sir; and depend on it Boney will take care that it shall be a hard one.”

“What are you driving at, Dobbin?” his interlocutor said, uneasy and with a scowl. “I suppose no Briton’s afraid of any d— Frenchman, hey?”

“I only mean, that before we go, and considering the great and certain risk that hangs over every one of us— if there are any differences between you and George—it would be as well, sir, that—that you should shake hands: wouldn’t it? Should anything happen to him, I think you would never forgive yourself if you hadn’t parted in charity.”


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