TOM BRIMS’S INDIAN PRINCES.

Globe, Volume II, Issue 150, 26 November 1874, Page 3

TOM BRIMS’S INDIAN PRINCES.

In Two Chapters. (From Chambers's Journal.) Chapter I. Very odd things at times have a momentary vogue in Paris. No matter what the triviality may be, if it can only set a certain amount of talk afloat respecting itself, its fortune is made for a number of hours. During a short stay I was making in the gay city before the siege darkened it—when, indeed, no such darkening was thought of—a tradesman’s shop-window in the Rue St was having a brief success of this kind. Ladies were everywhere going into raptures over a show of shoes to be seen in it. Men talked of the sight in the cafes as earnestly as if it had been a matter of national interest. For two or three days the police had to make special arrangements for the circulation of people on the pavement in front of the shop. The display consisted of a large assortment of slippers specially made for some Indian princes then in the • French capital. ‘ Monsieur must see it, ’ emphatically said a waiter, shrugging his shouldei s, presenting the open palm of his hand towards me, and lifting them to a level with his ears, which he brought down to meet them. ‘lt was not possible for a person of taste like Monsieur to leave Paris before going to look. That would be a mistake; it would be a sin; it would be a crime ! Such boots had never been seen before. They did glory to France ! The great Indian princes would only wear each pair for a single day, and then kick them aside. It was a pity. Yah ! Monsieur had no idea what a show could be made of boots; and it was only two, three, four streets away. The man had shown wonderful taste. He was entitled to Monsieur’s admiration. Monsieur could not be cruel to the maker, cruel to himself, cruel to everybody, by not seeing them. ’ I felt that I could not be guilty of cruelty so wholesale. It is true that it turned out, from a question I put, that the waiter had been hard-hearted to that extent: he had not seen the boots ! My time was vacant on my hands that evening ; I started at once. When I turned the top corner of the Rue St , it instantly became apparent that the attractiveness of the show had only been reasonably exaggerated. A little hubbub of voices of made itself heard. At the front of moderate-sized premises, about half-way down on the left-hand side, was an excited group, constantly fed by fresh arrivals. All were good-humored, talkative, noisy. By a slow process I reached the window. I certainly saw a very pretty display. Behind the polished plate-glass, arranged upon a sloping base of delicate gray tint, rows, crescents, rings, triangles of slippers of oriental shape and decoration shone and glowed in all the variety of coloured leathers and spangled brocade. There seemed a number sufficient for an army. The grouping of the hues and the systematic arrangement generally, was doubtless an artistic achievement of its kind. In a little space in front of the window was moving about the proud, breathless owner of the establishment, a middle-aged Frenchman of very ordinary type, bareheaded, and with his coat sleeves turned back to an extent which, in the case of an English tradesman in like circumstances, would have meant that he was preparing for a pugilistic conflict with the crowd for coming too near his window. Nothing was further from the intention of the Frenchman. He was volubly guiding the admiration of the spectators into the right channels. He unhesitatingly pointed out the merits of his his own productions, recounting, with great pomp of gesticulation, and most wonderful pronunciation, the names and titles of his great customers, the Indian princes. Just as the batch of on-lookers, of which I formed one, was moving away to make room for the next, the voices of the three or four gendarmes present were raised in shrill authority. A great sensation ran through the crowd. The bare-headed master of the shop, flinging his arms aloft frantically, exclaimed sublimely, ‘ They arc here !’ Ho rushed forward in the direction of the bustle. A passage was formed to the shop-door, most of the male bystanders raising their hats, as along the narrow lane came three Hindus, clad in turbans and voluminous eastern robes, short scimitars, with jewelled hilts, flashing at their sides. They were the princes coming to pay their bootmaker a visit ; perhaps to order another windowful of incomparable slippers. Suddenly, as I looked, a feeling of amazement seized me. Behind the Indians, himself languidly, acknowledging the salutations, as though he considered they were meant partially for him, advanced a more European person. ‘ That,’ 1 heard it whispered around me, * is their interpreter.’

But surely that familiar, tall, lank figure could only belong to one being in the world; those large, sallow features shewing under the gold-braided cap, with its white linen folds of sun-protecting curtain falling on the shoulders, could not be mistaken for any other. The interpreter’s gaze met mine. He too, made a start of recognition. Upon Ids closing the near blue eye in a rapid wink, there was no longer any possibility of doubt. Unquestionably, it was Tom Brims, late of the same shipping-office with myself in London, who was tilling the important and dignified post of interpreter to the Indian princes. Six months before, he had left the Fenchurch street premises, owing to not being sufficiently appreciated by the heads of the establishment. It was, in fact, at their instance that he departed, to reside with a maiden aunt living somewhere in France. He severed himsel from his desk in the best of spirits, making his exit with perfect selfpossession, and not without a certain grace ; but he had had much experience previously in going through the performance, both at home and abroad. Educated for the Indian service, Tom Brims had gone out to the East; but he reappeared in London in a period of time which could not be considered long, taking into account the distance. The explanation he gave was, that a Hindu potentate wished to adopt him as his successor; but that the governor-general of India enviously objected. After this his stay in India, he said, was made so uncomfortable by intrigues, that he left for England. I will confess that we had thought Tom Brims was in part romancing ; here, however, he was with these great Hindu chiefs. He paused, and solemnly lifting his finger, called to me in some gibberish, such as we had used in Fenchurch street, and which I knew to mean that he would meet me in five minutes in a shop on the opposite side of the way. The crowd, on seeing and hearing me thus addressed, gave way very respectfully around me. Hats were lifted ; a way was indicated for me to advance. I had presence of mind to bow to those making a road for me : availing myself of it, I crossed the pavement, and, rather diffidently, passed just within the doorway of the shop. There, in less than the five minutes, Tom Brims came to me.

‘You unbelieving wretch,’ were his first words, ‘ didn’t 1 always tell you and the other fellows in the office I should make my fortune some day ? I did not make one in India when when I was there, I know—more fool I was for it; but I shan’t be a simpleton this time. Their mahogany highnesses here are rolling in the rupees I have a lack of—ha ! ha I—l mean to make more than a lac of it. ’

I grasped Tom’s hand, congratulating him, although I hardly knew how to address him, he was so changed altogether, looking so grand in the gold-lace and semi uniform. The bootmaker, having discovered that as the princes knew not a word of French, he was wasting his volubility in the absence of Tom, here came smilingly towards us, and reminded him, in the politest way, that he was i ceded by their Magnificences. Tom lightly waved him off with his hand. He said aside to me in English, ‘ Let them wait. They could not stir a yard without me. I have got them under my thumb completely. They come from Upper India, right away from the known parts, and there is not a man within thousands of miles of us at this moment who could tell a word they say.’ He went on to add that it was the luckiest thing in the world. He was on the quay at Marseille when they landed. The interpreter they had brought with them was, poor fellow, killed on the spot by falling headlong into a dock, where a vessel crushed him. He himself stepped forward, was of much service to them, and was appointed straightway.

I told him how delighted I was at his good fortune, but said I must not detain him. The fellows in the office, I assured him, would be equally glad of the news. I was taking my leave. His large features relaxed into a grin, deepening into a chuckle ; then, instantly, he put on a most tremendous frown. ‘lt would never do, ’ he muttered, ‘ for them to see him If I keep them waiting any longer, ’ he continued, ‘ when they get *back to the hotel, they’ll run their swords through two or three of the poor wretches of their suite. Nobody could hurt them for it, as they are travelling under Ambassadors’ Law. I’ll stop, if you like.’ ‘You must come to me at the hotel,’ he added, ‘ come at six o’clock. There will be time for a little chat. We are going to one of the minor theatres to-night; we shall go to the Grand Opera when we come back to Paris from London. They are in a sort of incognito till they reach England, for fear of offending the Indian Secretary.’ He gave me a card of the hotel; taking I hastily made my way out into the street, amazed at the coolness with which Tom Brims sauntered towards those fierce magnates. To bo continued.