University of Virginia Library

4. IV.
MR. HILLBRIGHT SETS OFF ON HIS MISSION.

When Mr. Hillbright sent our friend Jervey for the
mythical soap, it is by no means certain that he contemplated
escaping from the Asylum. I think, if we could
hear Hillbright's part of the story, it would be something
like this: —

He had detected the turning of the key in the boat-house

locker, and, hastening to it the moment Jervey was gone,
had found that his clothes were locked up. What was that
for? To prevent him from putting them on, of course,
and walking off in his keeper's absence.

“They fear I will walk off, do they? Then I will walk
off!”

Such, very probably, was his brief train of reasoning;
and such, very certainly, the conclusion arrived at. Should
the trifling want of a few rags of clothing stand in the way
of a great resolution? Should he who bore the sins of the
world, and whose duty it was to go forth and preach and
convert the world, neglect such an opening as this to get
out and fulfil his mission?

“Providence will clothe me!” And, indeed, it looked
as if Providence meant to do something of the kind. “Behold!”
There was a long piece of carpet, very ancient
and faded, in the bottom of the boat; he pulled it up,
wrapped it fantastically about him, and was clad.

He then pushed the boat out into the river, giving it an
impulse which sent it across to the opposite shore. Then
he leaped out, leaving it adrift on the current. When Mr.
Jervey found it below the bend, Mr. Hillbright was already
walking, with great dignity, in his improvised blanket,
across the skirts of a neighboring woodland, like a sachem
in his native wilds.

He had not gone far before he began to experience great
tenderness in the soles of his feet. Then by degrees it
dawned upon him that the loose ends of the carpet flapping
about his calves were but a poor substitute for trousers;
and that his attire was, on the whole, imperfect. “Too
simple for the age,” thought he. Picturesque, but hardly
the thing in which to appear and proclaim his mission to
a fastidious modern society. Would the world, that refused
to tolerate him dressed as a gentleman, accept him

now that he was rigged out more like a king of the Cannibal
Islands?

He tried various methods of wreathing the folds of antique
tapestry about his person; all of which seemed open
to criticism. He was beginning to think Providence might
have done better by him, when, getting over a fence, he
found himself on the public highway.

He knew he would be followed by his friends at the
Asylum; and here he accordingly stopped to take an observation.
He was near the summit of a long hill. At the
foot of it, near half a mile off, he saw a horse coming at a
fast gallop, which to his suspicious mind suggested pursuit,
and he shrank back into some bushes to remain concealed
while it passed.

As the animal ascended the slope, the gallop relaxed to
a leisurely canter, the canter declined to a trot, and, long
before the summit was attained, the trot had become a
walk. The horse had no rider, but there was a buggy at
its heels. Arrived near the spot where Hillbright was hid,
it turned up on the roadside, and put down its head to nip
grass. Then Hillbright saw that there was nobody in the
buggy. The horse was a runaway, that had been stopped
by the long stretch of rising ground. The horse, I may
as well add, was a bay mare.

“Providence is all right,” said Hillbright, emerging from
the bushes. “This is for my sore feet.”

At sight of the strange figure, grotesque in faded scroll
patterns of flowing tapestry, the mare shied, and would
have got away, but a two-mile course, with a hill at the
end of it, had tamed her spirit. So she merely sprang to
a corner of the fence, and remained an easy capture.

As Hillbright was about setting foot into the vehicle, —
for he had no doubt of its having been sent expressly that
he might ride, — he found an odd heap of things in his

way. There was something that looked like suspenders;
and, following up that interesting clew, he drew forth a
pair of pantaloons; with them came a coat and waistcoat,
all of handsome blue-black cloth. “Providence means that
I shall be well clothed,” was his happy reflection, as, exploring
still further, he discovered boots and underclothes,
and a shirt of fine linen, with a wonderfully refulgent ruffled
bosom. With a triumphant smile, he proceeded to put
the things on, and found them an excellent fit.

There was still a hat left, freighted and ballasted with
various valuables, uppermost among which was a luxuriant
chestnut-brown wig. Now, Hillbright had never worn a
wig. But since he had borne the sins of the world, the
top of his head had become bare, and was not here a plain
indication that it ought to be covered? He accepted the
augury, and put on the wig.

Next came a richly embroidered white neckerchief, for
which he also found its appropriate use. Then in the
bottom of the hat remained a gold watch, which he cheerfully
put into his fob; a plump porte-monnaie which he
pocketed with a smile; and a thin package of manuscripts
betwixt dainty morocco covers, which, untying its neat
pink ribbons, he proceeded to examine.

The miracle was complete. The package was a sermon.

“This is all direct from Heaven!” said Hillbright, delighted,
and having no more doubt of the truth of his
surmise than if he had seen the buggy and its contents let
down in a golden cloud from the sky.

Thinking to find room for the package in the broad
breast-pocket of his coat, he discovered an obstacle, which
he removed. It proved to be a little oval pocket-mirror.
He held it up before him, and had reason to be pleased
with the flattering account it gave of himself. The graceful

wig, embroidered white cravat, ruffled shirt-bosom, and
blue-black suit became him wonderfully well; they made
a new man of him. Had he known Dodd of Coldwater, he
would almost have taken himself for that well-got-up bachelor
parson.

Then for the hat, which was a stylish black beaver,
somewhat the worse for its ride; giving it a little needful
polishing before putting it on, he noticed a letter protruding
from the lining. He opened it and read:—

This seemed plain enough to the gratified Hillbright.
“We” he understood to mean his unseen friendly guardians.
The “arrangements” they had made were, so far
as he could see, excellent; he was provided with everything!
The “Ex.” undoubtedly alluded to his exit from
the Asylum; and that was certainly “all right.” To-day
was Sunday, the 7th; and here was his work all laid
out for him. Who Selwyn was, and where Longtrot was,
he did not know; but doubtless it would be revealed.

The signature of the missive puzzled him at first; but
soon a happy interpretation occurred to him. It was
evidently no signature at all, but an injunction. “B. B.”
stood for “Be! Be!” and it signified, “Be a man! Be
a great man! Be thyself! BE HILLBRIGHT!”

Yet when he came to scrutinize the address of the letter,
he perceived that the name of Hillbright, against which
the world had conceived an unreasonable prejudice, was to
be dropped for a season. “It appears,” said he, “I am to
be known as Dodd, — E. Dodd, — Rev. E. Dodd. I don't
see what the E. stands for. I wonder what my first
name is?”

So saying, he stepped into the buggy, gathered up the
reins from the dasher, put under his feet the carpet that
was lately on his back, and set off grandly on his grand
mission.

The bay mare was herself again; she did not balk.