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Updated: June 1, 2025
"The job" can only refer to the Mexican translation, as, at that period, Borrow was merely studying Manchu. He had received no appointment from the Society. It may have happened that Borrow expressed a wish to look through the proofs and that a set was sent to him for this purpose; but there seems no doubt that the actual official responsibility for the work rested with Hattersley.
For all the good you ever did me, or ever wished to do, I most sincerely thank you: for all the evil you have done me, and all you would have done, I pray God to pardon you, and make you of a better mind.’ Here the door was thrown open, and Messrs. Huntingdon and Hattersley appeared without.
I suppose she doesn’t mind it.’ ‘I can enlighten you on that subject, Mr. Hattersley,’ said I: ‘she does mind it; and some other things she minds still more, which yet you may never hear her complain of.’ ‘How do you know?—does she complain to you?’ demanded he, with a sudden spark of fury ready to burst into a flame if I should answer “yes.”
‘I hate him: but, however, if you wish it, I’ll try to endure his presence for a while.’ ‘All a prejudice, Helen, a mere woman’s antipathy.’ ‘No; I have solid grounds for my dislike. And is that all?’ ‘Why, yes, I think so. Hattersley will be too busy billing and cooing, with his bride to have much time to spare for guns and dogs at present,’ he replied.
The next object of assault was Arthur, who sat opposite, and had, no doubt, richly enjoyed the whole scene. ‘Now, Huntingdon,’ exclaimed his irascible friend, ‘I will not have you sitting there and laughing like an idiot!’ ‘Oh, Hattersley,’ cried he, wiping his swimming eyes—‘you’ll be the death of me.’
‘Amen!’ responded I; and we parted. I returned to the drawing-room, where, doubtless, my presence would be expected by most, desired by one or two. In the ante-room was Mr. Hattersley, railing against Lord Lowborough’s poltroonery before a select audience, viz. Mr. Huntingdon, who was lounging against the table, exulting in his own treacherous villainy, and laughing his victim to scorn, and Mr.
Huntingdon; nothing moves you. I wish my nature were as calm as yours.’ ‘My nature was not originally calm,’ said I. ‘I have learned to appear so by dint of hard lessons and many repeated efforts.’ At this juncture Mr. Hattersley burst into the room.
‘Go to the deuce!’ replied the latter, with an impatient jerk of the head. Hargrave withdrew with a look of cold disdain, saying,—‘You know where to find me, should you feel disposed to send a friend.’ Muttered oaths and curses were all the answer this intimation obtained. ‘Now, Huntingdon, you see!’ said Hattersley. ‘Clear as the day.’
His competitor was John Hattersley, upon whom, in the event of Borrow's failure, would in all probability have devolved the duty of assisting Mr Lipovzoff. A Manchu hymn, a paean to the great Futsa, was the test. Each candidate prepared a translation, which was handed to the examiners, who in turn were to report to the Sub-Committee. Borrow returned to Norwich to await the result.
He now stepped up to Annabella, who sat with her back towards him, with Hattersley still beside her, though not now attending to her, being occupied in vociferously abusing and bullying his host. ‘Well, Annabella,’ said her husband, as he leant over the back of her chair, ‘which of these three “bold, manly spirits” would you have me to resemble?’
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