Pyg

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Authors: Russell Potter
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unlike anything else I had heard from a Human mouth, in an Instant disabused me of what little faith I had in Humanity .
I knew, as certainly as I know Now , that there are Degrees of Every thing, but to see Mr Bisset in this light cast a new sort of Darkness over my entire Career. A kind heart he
had Not ; it was all for his Convenience, his Reputation, his Pride that he had trained me, and as to his avoidance of Meat , I was sure now that was only a Feint designed
to Lull his Animal tenants into a False sense of Security . No man ever looked more ready to Slaughter and Eat his interlocutor on the spot than did Mr Bisset on that occasion. I reproached
Myself—I should have seen his true Character before, should have trusted the Fear that I first felt on discovering his Demesne, and seeing his Working of it! But most of all, I felt a
true Horror at the idea that my Benefactor, the only person upon whose Goodness I could rely Absolutely , was to be sundered from me. Such a thing must not be! But how I could
prevent it, I could not at that time Imagine, so bleak and hopeless my Situation seemed.
    We completed our run of two Weeks in Dublin , although after that first Night, I scarcely allowed them to Register upon my mind. They passed, instead, in a sort of a Blur, like a rapid
series of Dissolving-views thrown upon the Wall by a Magic Lantern . Sam was, in fact, not immediately Dismissed, but forbidden to be Alone with me, and put to work for Mr Sweet at a variety
of menial tasks that were, I am certain, Designed to keep him occupied, and unable to assist me. Indeed, I overheard some Talk between my two Masters that they might very well arrange
for him to ‘stay on’, which would mean that our departure from Dublin would be my leave-taking of Sam. This thought, combined with the sense of both Fear and Loathing with which
I now regarded Mr Bisset, kept me in a sort of cool Terror throughout these weeks; it was only by closing off my Mind to such thoughts, and focusing solely on my business with the Letters
and the Numbers, that I managed to keep my Wits .
    And after the last evening, when Mr Bisset was paid off, my worst fears, alas, came True . He was a Wealthy man now, with well over two hundred Pounds to his credit, and a bundle of
Letters inviting him to engagements in dozens of Towns throughout Britain. He had Promoted himself to a new Frock Coat , and his Cravat was now all of Silk, as were his Hose ; a
gleaming pair of jet-black boots completed his outfit, and he looked every inch a Man of Parts . For myself, I retained not only my Waistcoat but a small Medallion , given me by one of
the Ladies in attendance, in the shape of a red ribbon with a silver Oval. It was, in fact, she told me, a medal that one of her late Paramours had been given for his excellence in Oratory,
and she declared that I had a better Right to it than He . Never the less, I would have abandoned both of these idle Adornments, if only they could have purchased the continued company of my Benefactor , without whom I could hardly conceive of continuing in Life . I do believe that, had not Circumstances intervened, I would sooner have allowed my Master to sell me for my Bacon than ever again perform for him, whose cruelty in severing me from my lifelong Friend was Unconscionable .
    That night Sam managed to come to me, having crept out of the rooms where the Stable-hands at Astley’s were lodged, scaled a fence and run round to the Inn-yard where I was caged. Many
were our tears, and they would have been matched by Cries as well, had we not known that any Noise would bring the Master’s Wrath upon us. Sam swore repeatedly that he would not Live without me, and I the same to him, using the little cards he still kept in his Pocket. He had grown in the past few months—indeed, he now looked a strapping young Lad —but to me he was still the boy who had clung to that Wagon as it raced down rutted lanes and round sharp corners, the boy

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