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diff --git a/1585-h/1585-h.htm b/1585-h/1585-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a866041 --- /dev/null +++ b/1585-h/1585-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8088 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Wrong Box, by Robert Louis Stevenson and Lloyd Osbourne + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1585 ***</div> + + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE WRONG BOX + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON<br /> and<br /> LLOYD OSBOURNE + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <h4> + <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE </a> + </h4> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> + </td> + <td> + In Which Morris Suspects + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> + </td> + <td> + In Which Morris takes Action + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> + </td> + <td> + The Lecturer at Large + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> + </td> + <td> + The Magistrate in the Luggage Van + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> + </td> + <td> + Mr Gideon Forsyth and the Gigantic Box + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> + </td> + <td> + The Tribulations of Morris: Part the First + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> + </td> + <td> + In Which William Dent Pitman takes Legal Advice + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> + </td> + <td> + In Which Michael Finsbury Enjoys a Holiday + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a> + </td> + <td> + Glorious Conclusion of Michael Finsbury’s Holiday + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> + </td> + <td> + Gideon Forsyth and the Broadwood Grand + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> + </td> + <td> + The Maestro Jimson + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a> + </td> + <td> + Positively the Last Appearance of the Broadwood Grand + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> + </td> + <td> + The Tribulations of Morris: Part the Second + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a> + </td> + <td> + William Bent Pitman Hears of Something to his Advantage + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a> + </td> + <td> + The Return of the Great Vance + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a> + </td> + <td> + Final Adjustment of the Leather Business + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + PREFACE + </h2> + <p> + ‘Nothing like a little judicious levity,’ says Michael Finsbury in the + text: nor can any better excuse be found for the volume in the reader’s + hand. The authors can but add that one of them is old enough to be ashamed + of himself, and the other young enough to learn better. + </p> + <p> + R. L. S. L. O. <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. In Which Morris Suspects + </h2> + <p> + How very little does the amateur, dwelling at home at ease, comprehend the + labours and perils of the author, and, when he smilingly skims the surface + of a work of fiction, how little does he consider the hours of toil, + consultation of authorities, researches in the Bodleian, correspondence + with learned and illegible Germans—in one word, the vast scaffolding + that was first built up and then knocked down, to while away an hour for + him in a railway train! Thus I might begin this tale with a biography of + Tonti—birthplace, parentage, genius probably inherited from his + mother, remarkable instance of precocity, etc—and a complete + treatise on the system to which he bequeathed his name. The material is + all beside me in a pigeon-hole, but I scorn to appear vainglorious. Tonti + is dead, and I never saw anyone who even pretended to regret him; and, as + for the tontine system, a word will suffice for all the purposes of this + unvarnished narrative. + </p> + <p> + A number of sprightly youths (the more the merrier) put up a certain sum + of money, which is then funded in a pool under trustees; coming on for a + century later, the proceeds are fluttered for a moment in the face of the + last survivor, who is probably deaf, so that he cannot even hear of his + success—and who is certainly dying, so that he might just as well + have lost. The peculiar poetry and even humour of the scheme is now + apparent, since it is one by which nobody concerned can possibly profit; + but its fine, sportsmanlike character endeared it to our grandparents. + </p> + <p> + When Joseph Finsbury and his brother Masterman were little lads in + white-frilled trousers, their father—a well-to-do merchant in + Cheapside—caused them to join a small but rich tontine of + seven-and-thirty lives. A thousand pounds was the entrance fee; and Joseph + Finsbury can remember to this day the visit to the lawyer’s, where the + members of the tontine—all children like himself—were + assembled together, and sat in turn in the big office chair, and signed + their names with the assistance of a kind old gentleman in spectacles and + Wellington boots. He remembers playing with the children afterwards on the + lawn at the back of the lawyer’s house, and a battle-royal that he had + with a brother tontiner who had kicked his shins. The sound of war called + forth the lawyer from where he was dispensing cake and wine to the + assembled parents in the office, and the combatants were separated, and + Joseph’s spirit (for he was the smaller of the two) commended by the + gentleman in the Wellington boots, who vowed he had been just such another + at the same age. Joseph wondered to himself if he had worn at that time + little Wellingtons and a little bald head, and when, in bed at night, he + grew tired of telling himself stories of sea-fights, he used to dress + himself up as the old gentleman, and entertain other little boys and girls + with cake and wine. + </p> + <p> + In the year 1840 the thirty-seven were all alive; in 1850 their number had + decreased by six; in 1856 and 1857 business was more lively, for the + Crimea and the Mutiny carried off no less than nine. There remained in + 1870 but five of the original members, and at the date of my story, + including the two Finsburys, but three. + </p> + <p> + By this time Masterman was in his seventy-third year; he had long + complained of the effects of age, had long since retired from business, + and now lived in absolute seclusion under the roof of his son Michael, the + well-known solicitor. Joseph, on the other hand, was still up and about, + and still presented but a semi-venerable figure on the streets in which he + loved to wander. This was the more to be deplored because Masterman had + led (even to the least particular) a model British life. Industry, + regularity, respectability, and a preference for the four per cents are + understood to be the very foundations of a green old age. All these + Masterman had eminently displayed, and here he was, ab agendo, at + seventy-three; while Joseph, barely two years younger, and in the most + excellent preservation, had disgraced himself through life by idleness and + eccentricity. Embarked in the leather trade, he had early wearied of + business, for which he was supposed to have small parts. A taste for + general information, not promptly checked, had soon begun to sap his + manhood. There is no passion more debilitating to the mind, unless, + perhaps, it be that itch of public speaking which it not infrequently + accompanies or begets. The two were conjoined in the case of Joseph; the + acute stage of this double malady, that in which the patient delivers + gratuitous lectures, soon declared itself with severity, and not many + years had passed over his head before he would have travelled thirty miles + to address an infant school. He was no student; his reading was confined + to elementary textbooks and the daily papers; he did not even fly as high + as cyclopedias; life, he would say, was his volume. His lectures were not + meant, he would declare, for college professors; they were addressed + direct to ‘the great heart of the people’, and the heart of the people + must certainly be sounder than its head, for his lucubrations were + received with favour. That entitled ‘How to Live Cheerfully on Forty + Pounds a Year’, created a sensation among the unemployed. ‘Education: Its + Aims, Objects, Purposes, and Desirability’, gained him the respect of the + shallow-minded. As for his celebrated essay on ‘Life Insurance Regarded in + its Relation to the Masses’, read before the Working Men’s Mutual + Improvement Society, Isle of Dogs, it was received with a ‘literal + ovation’ by an unintelligent audience of both sexes, and so marked was the + effect that he was next year elected honorary president of the + institution, an office of less than no emolument—since the holder + was expected to come down with a donation—but one which highly + satisfied his self-esteem. + </p> + <p> + While Joseph was thus building himself up a reputation among the more + cultivated portion of the ignorant, his domestic life was suddenly + overwhelmed by orphans. The death of his younger brother Jacob saddled him + with the charge of two boys, Morris and John; and in the course of the + same year his family was still further swelled by the addition of a little + girl, the daughter of John Henry Hazeltine, Esq., a gentleman of small + property and fewer friends. He had met Joseph only once, at a lecture-hall + in Holloway; but from that formative experience he returned home to make a + new will, and consign his daughter and her fortune to the lecturer. Joseph + had a kindly disposition; and yet it was not without reluctance that he + accepted this new responsibility, advertised for a nurse, and purchased a + second-hand perambulator. Morris and John he made more readily welcome; + not so much because of the tie of consanguinity as because the leather + business (in which he hastened to invest their fortune of thirty thousand + pounds) had recently exhibited inexplicable symptoms of decline. A young + but capable Scot was chosen as manager to the enterprise, and the cares of + business never again afflicted Joseph Finsbury. Leaving his charges in the + hands of the capable Scot (who was married), he began his extensive + travels on the Continent and in Asia Minor. + </p> + <p> + With a polyglot Testament in one hand and a phrase-book in the other, he + groped his way among the speakers of eleven European languages. The first + of these guides is hardly applicable to the purposes of the philosophic + traveller, and even the second is designed more expressly for the tourist + than for the expert in life. But he pressed interpreters into his service—whenever + he could get their services for nothing—and by one means and another + filled many notebooks with the results of his researches. + </p> + <p> + In these wanderings he spent several years, and only returned to England + when the increasing age of his charges needed his attention. The two lads + had been placed in a good but economical school, where they had received a + sound commercial education; which was somewhat awkward, as the leather + business was by no means in a state to court enquiry. In fact, when Joseph + went over his accounts preparatory to surrendering his trust, he was + dismayed to discover that his brother’s fortune had not increased by his + stewardship; even by making over to his two wards every penny he had in + the world, there would still be a deficit of seven thousand eight hundred + pounds. When these facts were communicated to the two brothers in the + presence of a lawyer, Morris Finsbury threatened his uncle with all the + terrors of the law, and was only prevented from taking extreme steps by + the advice of the professional man. ‘You cannot get blood from a stone,’ + observed the lawyer. + </p> + <p> + And Morris saw the point and came to terms with his uncle. On the one + side, Joseph gave up all that he possessed, and assigned to his nephew his + contingent interest in the tontine, already quite a hopeful speculation. + On the other, Morris agreed to harbour his uncle and Miss Hazeltine (who + had come to grief with the rest), and to pay to each of them one pound a + month as pocket-money. The allowance was amply sufficient for the old man; + it scarce appears how Miss Hazeltine contrived to dress upon it; but she + did, and, what is more, she never complained. She was, indeed, sincerely + attached to her incompetent guardian. He had never been unkind; his age + spoke for him loudly; there was something appealing in his whole-souled + quest of knowledge and innocent delight in the smallest mark of + admiration; and, though the lawyer had warned her she was being + sacrificed, Julia had refused to add to the perplexities of Uncle Joseph. + </p> + <p> + In a large, dreary house in John Street, Bloomsbury, these four dwelt + together; a family in appearance, in reality a financial association. + Julia and Uncle Joseph were, of course, slaves; John, a gentle man with a + taste for the banjo, the music-hall, the Gaiety bar, and the sporting + papers, must have been anywhere a secondary figure; and the cares and + delights of empire devolved entirely upon Morris. That these are + inextricably intermixed is one of the commonplaces with which the bland + essayist consoles the incompetent and the obscure, but in the case of + Morris the bitter must have largely outweighed the sweet. He grudged no + trouble to himself, he spared none to others; he called the servants in + the morning, he served out the stores with his own hand, he took soundings + of the sherry, he numbered the remainder biscuits; painful scenes took + place over the weekly bills, and the cook was frequently impeached, and + the tradespeople came and hectored with him in the back parlour upon a + question of three farthings. The superficial might have deemed him a + miser; in his own eyes he was simply a man who had been defrauded; the + world owed him seven thousand eight hundred pounds, and he intended that + the world should pay. + </p> + <p> + But it was in his dealings with Joseph that Morris’s character + particularly shone. His uncle was a rather gambling stock in which he had + invested heavily; and he spared no pains in nursing the security. The old + man was seen monthly by a physician, whether he was well or ill. His diet, + his raiment, his occasional outings, now to Brighton, now to Bournemouth, + were doled out to him like pap to infants. In bad weather he must keep the + house. In good weather, by half-past nine, he must be ready in the hall; + Morris would see that he had gloves and that his shoes were sound; and the + pair would start for the leather business arm in arm. The way there was + probably dreary enough, for there was no pretence of friendly feeling; + Morris had never ceased to upbraid his guardian with his defalcation and + to lament the burthen of Miss Hazeltine; and Joseph, though he was a mild + enough soul, regarded his nephew with something very near akin to hatred. + But the way there was nothing to the journey back; for the mere sight of + the place of business, as well as every detail of its transactions, was + enough to poison life for any Finsbury. + </p> + <p> + Joseph’s name was still over the door; it was he who still signed the + cheques; but this was only policy on the part of Morris, and designed to + discourage other members of the tontine. In reality the business was + entirely his; and he found it an inheritance of sorrows. He tried to sell + it, and the offers he received were quite derisory. He tried to extend it, + and it was only the liabilities he succeeded in extending; to restrict it, + and it was only the profits he managed to restrict. Nobody had ever made + money out of that concern except the capable Scot, who retired (after his + discharge) to the neighbourhood of Banff and built a castle with his + profits. The memory of this fallacious Caledonian Morris would revile + daily, as he sat in the private office opening his mail, with old Joseph + at another table, sullenly awaiting orders, or savagely affixing + signatures to he knew not what. And when the man of the heather pushed + cynicism so far as to send him the announcement of his second marriage (to + Davida, eldest daughter of the Revd. Alexander McCraw), it was really + supposed that Morris would have had a fit. + </p> + <p> + Business hours, in the Finsbury leather trade, had been cut to the quick; + even Morris’s strong sense of duty to himself was not strong enough to + dally within those walls and under the shadow of that bankruptcy; and + presently the manager and the clerks would draw a long breath, and compose + themselves for another day of procrastination. Raw Haste, on the authority + of my Lord Tennyson, is half-sister to Delay; but the Business Habits are + certainly her uncles. Meanwhile, the leather merchant would lead his + living investment back to John Street like a puppy dog; and, having there + immured him in the hall, would depart for the day on the quest of seal + rings, the only passion of his life. Joseph had more than the vanity of + man, he had that of lecturers. He owned he was in fault, although more + sinned against (by the capable Scot) than sinning; but had he steeped his + hands in gore, he would still not deserve to be thus dragged at the + chariot-wheels of a young man, to sit a captive in the halls of his own + leather business, to be entertained with mortifying comments on his whole + career—to have his costume examined, his collar pulled up, the + presence of his mittens verified, and to be taken out and brought home in + custody, like an infant with a nurse. At the thought of it his soul would + swell with venom, and he would make haste to hang up his hat and coat and + the detested mittens, and slink upstairs to Julia and his notebooks. The + drawing-room at least was sacred from Morris; it belonged to the old man + and the young girl; it was there that she made her dresses; it was there + that he inked his spectacles over the registration of disconnected facts + and the calculation of insignificant statistics. + </p> + <p> + Here he would sometimes lament his connection with the tontine. ‘If it + were not for that,’ he cried one afternoon, ‘he would not care to keep me. + I might be a free man, Julia. And I could so easily support myself by + giving lectures.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To be sure you could,’ said she; ‘and I think it one of the meanest + things he ever did to deprive you of that amusement. There were those nice + people at the Isle of Cats (wasn’t it?) who wrote and asked you so very + kindly to give them an address. I did think he might have let you go to + the Isle of Cats.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He is a man of no intelligence,’ cried Joseph. ‘He lives here literally + surrounded by the absorbing spectacle of life, and for all the good it + does him, he might just as well be in his coffin. Think of his + opportunities! The heart of any other young man would burn within him at + the chance. The amount of information that I have it in my power to + convey, if he would only listen, is a thing that beggars language, Julia.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Whatever you do, my dear, you mustn’t excite yourself,’ said Julia; ‘for + you know, if you look at all ill, the doctor will be sent for.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That is very true,’ returned the old man humbly, ‘I will compose myself + with a little study.’ He thumbed his gallery of notebooks. ‘I wonder,’ he + said, ‘I wonder (since I see your hands are occupied) whether it might not + interest you—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, of course it would,’ cried Julia. ‘Read me one of your nice stories, + there’s a dear.’ + </p> + <p> + He had the volume down and his spectacles upon his nose instanter, as + though to forestall some possible retractation. ‘What I propose to read to + you,’ said he, skimming through the pages, ‘is the notes of a highly + important conversation with a Dutch courier of the name of David Abbas, + which is the Latin for abbot. Its results are well worth the money it cost + me, for, as Abbas at first appeared somewhat impatient, I was induced to + (what is, I believe, singularly called) stand him drink. It runs only to + about five-and-twenty pages. Yes, here it is.’ He cleared his throat, and + began to read. + </p> + <p> + Mr Finsbury (according to his own report) contributed about four hundred + and ninety-nine five-hundredths of the interview, and elicited from Abbas + literally nothing. It was dull for Julia, who did not require to listen; + for the Dutch courier, who had to answer, it must have been a perfect + nightmare. It would seem as if he had consoled himself by frequent + appliances to the bottle; it would even seem that (toward the end) he had + ceased to depend on Joseph’s frugal generosity and called for the flagon + on his own account. The effect, at least, of some mellowing influence was + visible in the record: Abbas became suddenly a willing witness; he began + to volunteer disclosures; and Julia had just looked up from her seam with + something like a smile, when Morris burst into the house, eagerly calling + for his uncle, and the next instant plunged into the room, waving in the + air the evening paper. + </p> + <p> + It was indeed with great news that he came charged. The demise was + announced of Lieutenant-General Sir Glasgow Biggar, KCSI, KCMG, etc., and + the prize of the tontine now lay between the Finsbury brothers. Here was + Morris’s opportunity at last. The brothers had never, it is true, been + cordial. When word came that Joseph was in Asia Minor, Masterman had + expressed himself with irritation. ‘I call it simply indecent,’ he had + said. ‘Mark my words—we shall hear of him next at the North Pole.’ + And these bitter expressions had been reported to the traveller on his + return. What was worse, Masterman had refused to attend the lecture on + ‘Education: Its Aims, Objects, Purposes, and Desirability’, although + invited to the platform. Since then the brothers had not met. On the other + hand, they never had openly quarrelled; Joseph (by Morris’s orders) was + prepared to waive the advantage of his juniority; Masterman had enjoyed + all through life the reputation of a man neither greedy nor unfair. Here, + then, were all the elements of compromise assembled; and Morris, suddenly + beholding his seven thousand eight hundred pounds restored to him, and + himself dismissed from the vicissitudes of the leather trade, hastened the + next morning to the office of his cousin Michael. + </p> + <p> + Michael was something of a public character. Launched upon the law at a + very early age, and quite without protectors, he had become a trafficker + in shady affairs. He was known to be the man for a lost cause; it was + known he could extract testimony from a stone, and interest from a + gold-mine; and his office was besieged in consequence by all that numerous + class of persons who have still some reputation to lose, and find + themselves upon the point of losing it; by those who have made undesirable + acquaintances, who have mislaid a compromising correspondence, or who are + blackmailed by their own butlers. In private life Michael was a man of + pleasure; but it was thought his dire experience at the office had gone + far to sober him, and it was known that (in the matter of investments) he + preferred the solid to the brilliant. What was yet more to the purpose, he + had been all his life a consistent scoffer at the Finsbury tontine. + </p> + <p> + It was therefore with little fear for the result that Morris presented + himself before his cousin, and proceeded feverishly to set forth his + scheme. For near upon a quarter of an hour the lawyer suffered him to + dwell upon its manifest advantages uninterrupted. Then Michael rose from + his seat, and, ringing for his clerk, uttered a single clause: ‘It won’t + do, Morris.’ + </p> + <p> + It was in vain that the leather merchant pleaded and reasoned, and + returned day after day to plead and reason. It was in vain that he offered + a bonus of one thousand, of two thousand, of three thousand pounds; in + vain that he offered, in Joseph’s name, to be content with only one-third + of the pool. Still there came the same answer: ‘It won’t do.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I can’t see the bottom of this,’ he said at last. ‘You answer none of my + arguments; you haven’t a word to say. For my part, I believe it’s malice.’ + </p> + <p> + The lawyer smiled at him benignly. ‘You may believe one thing,’ said he. + ‘Whatever else I do, I am not going to gratify any of your curiosity. You + see I am a trifle more communicative today, because this is our last + interview upon the subject.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Our last interview!’ cried Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘The stirrup-cup, dear boy,’ returned Michael. ‘I can’t have my business + hours encroached upon. And, by the by, have you no business of your own? + Are there no convulsions in the leather trade?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I believe it to be malice,’ repeated Morris doggedly. ‘You always hated + and despised me from a boy.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, no—not hated,’ returned Michael soothingly. ‘I rather like you + than otherwise; there’s such a permanent surprise about you, you look so + dark and attractive from a distance. Do you know that to the naked eye you + look romantic?—like what they call a man with a history? And indeed, + from all that I can hear, the history of the leather trade is full of + incident.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said Morris, disregarding these remarks, ‘it’s no use coming here. + I shall see your father.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O no, you won’t,’ said Michael. ‘Nobody shall see my father.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I should like to know why,’ cried his cousin. + </p> + <p> + ‘I never make any secret of that,’ replied the lawyer. ‘He is too ill.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If he is as ill as you say,’ cried the other, ‘the more reason for + accepting my proposal. I will see him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Will you?’ said Michael, and he rose and rang for his clerk. + </p> + <p> + It was now time, according to Sir Faraday Bond, the medical baronet whose + name is so familiar at the foot of bulletins, that Joseph (the poor Golden + Goose) should be removed into the purer air of Bournemouth; and for that + uncharted wilderness of villas the family now shook off the dust of + Bloomsbury; Julia delighted, because at Bournemouth she sometimes made + acquaintances; John in despair, for he was a man of city tastes; Joseph + indifferent where he was, so long as there was pen and ink and daily + papers, and he could avoid martyrdom at the office; Morris himself, + perhaps, not displeased to pretermit these visits to the city, and have a + quiet time for thought. He was prepared for any sacrifice; all he desired + was to get his money again and clear his feet of leather; and it would be + strange, since he was so modest in his desires, and the pool amounted to + upward of a hundred and sixteen thousand pounds—it would be strange + indeed if he could find no way of influencing Michael. ‘If I could only + guess his reason,’ he repeated to himself; and by day, as he walked in + Branksome Woods, and by night, as he turned upon his bed, and at + meal-times, when he forgot to eat, and in the bathing machine, when he + forgot to dress himself, that problem was constantly before him: Why had + Michael refused? + </p> + <p> + At last, one night, he burst into his brother’s room and woke him. + </p> + <p> + ‘What’s all this?’ asked John. + </p> + <p> + ‘Julia leaves this place tomorrow,’ replied Morris. ‘She must go up to + town and get the house ready, and find servants. We shall all follow in + three days.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, brayvo!’ cried John. ‘But why?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ve found it out, John,’ returned his brother gently. + </p> + <p> + ‘It? What?’ enquired John. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why Michael won’t compromise,’ said Morris. ‘It’s because he can’t. It’s + because Masterman’s dead, and he’s keeping it dark.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Golly!’ cried the impressionable John. ‘But what’s the use? Why does he + do it, anyway?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To defraud us of the tontine,’ said his brother. + </p> + <p> + ‘He couldn’t; you have to have a doctor’s certificate,’ objected John. + </p> + <p> + ‘Did you never hear of venal doctors?’ enquired Morris. ‘They’re as common + as blackberries: you can pick ‘em up for three-pound-ten a head.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I wouldn’t do it under fifty if I were a sawbones,’ ejaculated John. + </p> + <p> + ‘And then Michael,’ continued Morris, ‘is in the very thick of it. All his + clients have come to grief; his whole business is rotten eggs. If any man + could arrange it, he could; and depend upon it, he has his plan all + straight; and depend upon it, it’s a good one, for he’s clever, and be + damned to him! But I’m clever too; and I’m desperate. I lost seven + thousand eight hundred pounds when I was an orphan at school.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, don’t be tedious,’ interrupted John. ‘You’ve lost far more already + trying to get it back.’ + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. In Which Morris takes Action + </h2> + <p> + Some days later, accordingly, the three males of this depressing family + might have been observed (by a reader of G. P. R. James) taking their + departure from the East Station of Bournemouth. The weather was raw and + changeable, and Joseph was arrayed in consequence according to the + principles of Sir Faraday Bond, a man no less strict (as is well known) on + costume than on diet. There are few polite invalids who have not lived, or + tried to live, by that punctilious physician’s orders. ‘Avoid tea, madam,’ + the reader has doubtless heard him say, ‘avoid tea, fried liver, + antimonial wine, and bakers’ bread. Retire nightly at 10.45; and clothe + yourself (if you please) throughout in hygienic flannel. Externally, the + fur of the marten is indicated. Do not forget to procure a pair of health + boots at Messrs Dail and Crumbie’s.’ And he has probably called you back, + even after you have paid your fee, to add with stentorian emphasis: ‘I had + forgotten one caution: avoid kippered sturgeon as you would the very + devil.’ The unfortunate Joseph was cut to the pattern of Sir Faraday in + every button; he was shod with the health boot; his suit was of genuine + ventilating cloth; his shirt of hygienic flannel, a somewhat dingy fabric; + and he was draped to the knees in the inevitable greatcoat of marten’s + fur. The very railway porters at Bournemouth (which was a favourite + station of the doctor’s) marked the old gentleman for a creature of Sir + Faraday. There was but one evidence of personal taste, a vizarded forage + cap; from this form of headpiece, since he had fled from a dying jackal on + the plains of Ephesus, and weathered a bora in the Adriatic, nothing could + divorce our traveller. + </p> + <p> + The three Finsburys mounted into their compartment, and fell immediately + to quarrelling, a step unseemly in itself and (in this case) highly + unfortunate for Morris. Had he lingered a moment longer by the window, + this tale need never have been written. For he might then have observed + (as the porters did not fail to do) the arrival of a second passenger in + the uniform of Sir Faraday Bond. But he had other matters on hand, which + he judged (God knows how erroneously) to be more important. + </p> + <p> + ‘I never heard of such a thing,’ he cried, resuming a discussion which had + scarcely ceased all morning. ‘The bill is not yours; it is mine.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is payable to me,’ returned the old gentleman, with an air of bitter + obstinacy. ‘I will do what I please with my own property.’ + </p> + <p> + The bill was one for eight hundred pounds, which had been given him at + breakfast to endorse, and which he had simply pocketed. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hear him, Johnny!’ cried Morris. ‘His property! the very clothes upon his + back belong to me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Let him alone,’ said John. ‘I am sick of both of you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That is no way to speak of your uncle, sir,’ cried Joseph. ‘I will not + endure this disrespect. You are a pair of exceedingly forward, impudent, + and ignorant young men, and I have quite made up my mind to put an end to + the whole business.’. + </p> + <p> + ‘O skittles!’ said the graceful John. + </p> + <p> + But Morris was not so easy in his mind. This unusual act of + insubordination had already troubled him; and these mutinous words now + sounded ominously in his ears. He looked at the old gentleman uneasily. + Upon one occasion, many years before, when Joseph was delivering a + lecture, the audience had revolted in a body; finding their entertainer + somewhat dry, they had taken the question of amusement into their own + hands; and the lecturer (along with the board schoolmaster, the Baptist + clergyman, and a working-man’s candidate, who made up his bodyguard) was + ultimately driven from the scene. Morris had not been present on that + fatal day; if he had, he would have recognized a certain fighting glitter + in his uncle’s eye, and a certain chewing movement of his lips, as old + acquaintances. But even to the inexpert these symptoms breathed of + something dangerous. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, well,’ said Morris. ‘I have no wish to bother you further till we + get to London.’ + </p> + <p> + Joseph did not so much as look at him in answer; with tremulous hands he + produced a copy of the British Mechanic, and ostentatiously buried himself + in its perusal. + </p> + <p> + ‘I wonder what can make him so cantankerous?’ reflected the nephew. ‘I + don’t like the look of it at all.’ And he dubiously scratched his nose. + </p> + <p> + The train travelled forth into the world, bearing along with it the + customary freight of obliterated voyagers, and along with these old + Joseph, affecting immersion in his paper, and John slumbering over the + columns of the Pink Un, and Morris revolving in his mind a dozen grudges, + and suspicions, and alarms. It passed Christchurch by the sea, Herne with + its pinewoods, Ringwood on its mazy river. A little behind time, but not + much for the South-Western, it drew up at the platform of a station, in + the midst of the New Forest, the real name of which (in case the railway + company ‘might have the law of me’) I shall veil under the alias of + Browndean. + </p> + <p> + Many passengers put their heads to the window, and among the rest an old + gentleman on whom I willingly dwell, for I am nearly done with him now, + and (in the whole course of the present narrative) I am not in the least + likely to meet another character so decent. His name is immaterial, not so + his habits. He had passed his life wandering in a tweed suit on the + continent of Europe; and years of Galignani’s Messenger having at length + undermined his eyesight, he suddenly remembered the rivers of Assyria and + came to London to consult an oculist. From the oculist to the dentist, and + from both to the physician, the step appears inevitable; presently he was + in the hands of Sir Faraday, robed in ventilating cloth and sent to + Bournemouth; and to that domineering baronet (who was his only friend upon + his native soil) he was now returning to report. The case of these + tweedsuited wanderers is unique. We have all seen them entering the table + d’hote (at Spezzia, or Grätz, or Venice) with a genteel melancholy and a + faint appearance of having been to India and not succeeded. In the offices + of many hundred hotels they are known by name; and yet, if the whole of + this wandering cohort were to disappear tomorrow, their absence would be + wholly unremarked. How much more, if only one—say this one in the + ventilating cloth—should vanish! He had paid his bills at + Bournemouth; his worldly effects were all in the van in two portmanteaux, + and these after the proper interval would be sold as unclaimed baggage to + a Jew; Sir Faraday’s butler would be a half-crown poorer at the year’s + end, and the hotelkeepers of Europe about the same date would be mourning + a small but quite observable decline in profits. And that would be + literally all. Perhaps the old gentleman thought something of the sort, + for he looked melancholy enough as he pulled his bare, grey head back into + the carriage, and the train smoked under the bridge, and forth, with ever + quickening speed, across the mingled heaths and woods of the New Forest. + </p> + <p> + Not many hundred yards beyond Browndean, however, a sudden jarring of + brakes set everybody’s teeth on edge, and there was a brutal stoppage. + Morris Finsbury was aware of a confused uproar of voices, and sprang to + the window. Women were screaming, men were tumbling from the windows on + the track, the guard was crying to them to stay where they were; at the + same time the train began to gather way and move very slowly backward + toward Browndean; and the next moment—, all these various sounds + were blotted out in the apocalyptic whistle and the thundering onslaught + of the down express. + </p> + <p> + The actual collision Morris did not hear. Perhaps he fainted. He had a + wild dream of having seen the carriage double up and fall to pieces like a + pantomime trick; and sure enough, when he came to himself, he was lying on + the bare earth and under the open sky. His head ached savagely; he carried + his hand to his brow, and was not surprised to see it red with blood. The + air was filled with an intolerable, throbbing roar, which he expected to + find die away with the return of consciousness; and instead of that it + seemed but to swell the louder and to pierce the more cruelly through his + ears. It was a raging, bellowing thunder, like a boiler-riveting factory. + </p> + <p> + And now curiosity began to stir, and he sat up and looked about him. The + track at this point ran in a sharp curve about a wooded hillock; all of + the near side was heaped with the wreckage of the Bournemouth train; that + of the express was mostly hidden by the trees; and just at the turn, under + clouds of vomiting steam and piled about with cairns of living coal, lay + what remained of the two engines, one upon the other. On the heathy margin + of the line were many people running to and fro, and crying aloud as they + ran, and many others lying motionless like sleeping tramps. + </p> + <p> + Morris suddenly drew an inference. ‘There has been an accident’ thought + he, and was elated at his perspicacity. Almost at the same time his eye + lighted on John, who lay close by as white as paper. ‘Poor old John! poor + old cove!’ he thought, the schoolboy expression popping forth from some + forgotten treasury, and he took his brother’s hand in his with childish + tenderness. It was perhaps the touch that recalled him; at least John + opened his eyes, sat suddenly up, and after several ineffectual movements + of his lips, ‘What’s the row?’ said he, in a phantom voice. + </p> + <p> + The din of that devil’s smithy still thundered in their ears. ‘Let us get + away from that,’ Morris cried, and pointed to the vomit of steam that + still spouted from the broken engines. And the pair helped each other up, + and stood and quaked and wavered and stared about them at the scene of + death. + </p> + <p> + Just then they were approached by a party of men who had already organized + themselves for the purposes of rescue. + </p> + <p> + ‘Are you hurt?’ cried one of these, a young fellow with the sweat + streaming down his pallid face, and who, by the way he was treated, was + evidently the doctor. + </p> + <p> + Morris shook his head, and the young man, nodding grimly, handed him a + bottle of some spirit. + </p> + <p> + ‘Take a drink of that,’ he said; ‘your friend looks as if he needed it + badly. We want every man we can get,’ he added; ‘there’s terrible work + before us, and nobody should shirk. If you can do no more, you can carry a + stretcher.’ + </p> + <p> + The doctor was hardly gone before Morris, under the spur of the dram, + awoke to the full possession of his wits. + </p> + <p> + ‘My God!’ he cried. ‘Uncle Joseph!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said John, ‘where can he be? He can’t be far off. I hope the old + party isn’t damaged.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Come and help me to look,’ said Morris, with a snap of savage + determination strangely foreign to his ordinary bearing; and then, for one + moment, he broke forth. ‘If he’s dead!’ he cried, and shook his fist at + heaven. + </p> + <p> + To and fro the brothers hurried, staring in the faces of the wounded, or + turning the dead upon their backs. They must have thus examined forty + people, and still there was no word of Uncle Joseph. But now the course of + their search brought them near the centre of the collision, where the + boilers were still blowing off steam with a deafening clamour. It was a + part of the field not yet gleaned by the rescuing party. The ground, + especially on the margin of the wood, was full of inequalities—here + a pit, there a hillock surmounted with a bush of furze. It was a place + where many bodies might lie concealed, and they beat it like pointers + after game. Suddenly Morris, who was leading, paused and reached forth his + index with a tragic gesture. John followed the direction of his brother’s + hand. + </p> + <p> + In the bottom of a sandy hole lay something that had once been human. The + face had suffered severely, and it was unrecognizable; but that was not + required. The snowy hair, the coat of marten, the ventilating cloth, the + hygienic flannel—everything down to the health boots from Messrs + Dail and Crumbie’s, identified the body as that of Uncle Joseph. Only the + forage cap must have been lost in the convulsion, for the dead man was + bareheaded. + </p> + <p> + ‘The poor old beggar!’ said John, with a touch of natural feeling; ‘I + would give ten pounds if we hadn’t chivvied him in the train!’ + </p> + <p> + But there was no sentiment in the face of Morris as he gazed upon the + dead. Gnawing his nails, with introverted eyes, his brow marked with the + stamp of tragic indignation and tragic intellectual effort, he stood there + silent. Here was a last injustice; he had been robbed while he was an + orphan at school, he had been lashed to a decadent leather business, he + had been saddled with Miss Hazeltine, his cousin had been defrauding him + of the tontine, and he had borne all this, we might almost say, with + dignity, and now they had gone and killed his uncle! + </p> + <p> + ‘Here!’ he said suddenly, ‘take his heels, we must get him into the woods. + I’m not going to have anybody find this.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, fudge!’ said John, ‘where’s the use?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do what I tell you,’ spirted Morris, as he took the corpse by the + shoulders. ‘Am I to carry him myself?’ + </p> + <p> + They were close upon the borders of the wood; in ten or twelve paces they + were under cover; and a little further back, in a sandy clearing of the + trees, they laid their burthen down, and stood and looked at it with + loathing. + </p> + <p> + ‘What do you mean to do?’ whispered John. + </p> + <p> + ‘Bury him, to be sure,’ responded Morris, and he opened his pocket-knife + and began feverishly to dig. + </p> + <p> + ‘You’ll never make a hand of it with that,’ objected the other. + </p> + <p> + ‘If you won’t help me, you cowardly shirk,’ screamed Morris, ‘you can go + to the devil!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s the childishest folly,’ said John; ‘but no man shall call me a + coward,’ and he began to help his brother grudgingly. + </p> + <p> + The soil was sandy and light, but matted with the roots of the surrounding + firs. Gorse tore their hands; and as they baled the sand from the grave, + it was often discoloured with their blood. An hour passed of unremitting + energy upon the part of Morris, of lukewarm help on that of John; and + still the trench was barely nine inches in depth. Into this the body was + rudely flung: sand was piled upon it, and then more sand must be dug, and + gorse had to be cut to pile on that; and still from one end of the sordid + mound a pair of feet projected and caught the light upon their + patent-leather toes. But by this time the nerves of both were shaken; even + Morris had enough of his grisly task; and they skulked off like animals + into the thickest of the neighbouring covert. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s the best that we can do,’ said Morris, sitting down. + </p> + <p> + ‘And now,’ said John, ‘perhaps you’ll have the politeness to tell me what + it’s all about.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Upon my word,’ cried Morris, ‘if you do not understand for yourself, I + almost despair of telling you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, of course it’s some rot about the tontine,’ returned the other. ‘But + it’s the merest nonsense. We’ve lost it, and there’s an end.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I tell you,’ said Morris, ‘Uncle Masterman is dead. I know it, there’s a + voice that tells me so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, and so is Uncle Joseph,’ said John. + </p> + <p> + ‘He’s not dead, unless I choose,’ returned Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘And come to that,’ cried John, ‘if you’re right, and Uncle Masterman’s + been dead ever so long, all we have to do is to tell the truth and expose + Michael.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You seem to think Michael is a fool,’ sneered Morris. ‘Can’t you + understand he’s been preparing this fraud for years? He has the whole + thing ready: the nurse, the doctor, the undertaker, all bought, the + certificate all ready but the date! Let him get wind of this business, and + you mark my words, Uncle Masterman will die in two days and be buried in a + week. But see here, Johnny; what Michael can do, I can do. If he plays a + game of bluff, so can I. If his father is to live for ever, by God, so + shall my uncle!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s illegal, ain’t it?’ said John. + </p> + <p> + ‘A man must have SOME moral courage,’ replied Morris with dignity. + </p> + <p> + ‘And then suppose you’re wrong? Suppose Uncle Masterman’s alive and + kicking?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, even then,’ responded the plotter, ‘we are no worse off than we + were before; in fact, we’re better. Uncle Masterman must die some day; as + long as Uncle Joseph was alive, he might have died any day; but we’re out + of all that trouble now: there’s no sort of limit to the game that I + propose—it can be kept up till Kingdom Come.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If I could only see how you meant to set about it’ sighed John. ‘But you + know, Morris, you always were such a bungler.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’d like to know what I ever bungled,’ cried Morris; ‘I have the best + collection of signet rings in London.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, you know, there’s the leather business,’ suggested the other. + ‘That’s considered rather a hash.’ + </p> + <p> + It was a mark of singular self-control in Morris that he suffered this to + pass unchallenged, and even unresented. + </p> + <p> + ‘About the business in hand,’ said he, ‘once we can get him up to + Bloomsbury, there’s no sort of trouble. We bury him in the cellar, which + seems made for it; and then all I have to do is to start out and find a + venal doctor.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why can’t we leave him where he is?’ asked John. + </p> + <p> + ‘Because we know nothing about the country,’ retorted Morris. ‘This wood + may be a regular lovers’ walk. Turn your mind to the real difficulty. How + are we to get him up to Bloomsbury?’ + </p> + <p> + Various schemes were mooted and rejected. The railway station at Browndean + was, of course, out of the question, for it would now be a centre of + curiosity and gossip, and (of all things) they would be least able to + dispatch a dead body without remark. John feebly proposed getting an + ale-cask and sending it as beer, but the objections to this course were so + overwhelming that Morris scorned to answer. The purchase of a packing-case + seemed equally hopeless, for why should two gentlemen without baggage of + any kind require a packing-case? They would be more likely to require + clean linen. + </p> + <p> + ‘We are working on wrong lines,’ cried Morris at last. ‘The thing must be + gone about more carefully. Suppose now,’ he added excitedly, speaking by + fits and starts, as if he were thinking aloud, ‘suppose we rent a cottage + by the month. A householder can buy a packing-case without remark. Then + suppose we clear the people out today, get the packing-case tonight, and + tomorrow I hire a carriage or a cart that we could drive ourselves—and + take the box, or whatever we get, to Ringwood or Lyndhurst or somewhere; + we could label it “specimens”, don’t you see? Johnny, I believe I’ve hit + the nail at last.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, it sounds more feasible,’ admitted John. + </p> + <p> + ‘Of course we must take assumed names,’ continued Morris. ‘It would never + do to keep our own. What do you say to “Masterman” itself? It sounds quiet + and dignified.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I will NOT take the name of Masterman,’ returned his brother; ‘you may, + if you like. I shall call myself Vance—the Great Vance; positively + the last six nights. There’s some go in a name like that.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Vance?’ cried Morris. ‘Do you think we are playing a pantomime for our + amusement? There was never anybody named Vance who wasn’t a music-hall + singer.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s the beauty of it,’ returned John; ‘it gives you some standing at + once. You may call yourself Fortescue till all’s blue, and nobody cares; + but to be Vance gives a man a natural nobility.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But there’s lots of other theatrical names,’ cried Morris. ‘Leybourne, + Irving, Brough, Toole—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Devil a one will I take!’ returned his brother. ‘I am going to have my + little lark out of this as well as you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Very well,’ said Morris, who perceived that John was determined to carry + his point, ‘I shall be Robert Vance.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And I shall be George Vance,’ cried John, ‘the only original George + Vance! Rally round the only original!’ + </p> + <p> + Repairing as well as they were able the disorder of their clothes, the + Finsbury brothers returned to Browndean by a circuitous route in quest of + luncheon and a suitable cottage. It is not always easy to drop at a + moment’s notice on a furnished residence in a retired locality; but + fortune presently introduced our adventurers to a deaf carpenter, a man + rich in cottages of the required description, and unaffectedly eager to + supply their wants. The second place they visited, standing, as it did, + about a mile and a half from any neighbours, caused them to exchange a + glance of hope. On a nearer view, the place was not without depressing + features. It stood in a marshy-looking hollow of a heath; tall trees + obscured its windows; the thatch visibly rotted on the rafters; and the + walls were stained with splashes of unwholesome green. The rooms were + small, the ceilings low, the furniture merely nominal; a strange chill and + a haunting smell of damp pervaded the kitchen; and the bedroom boasted + only of one bed. + </p> + <p> + Morris, with a view to cheapening the place, remarked on this defect. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ returned the man; ‘if you can’t sleep two abed, you’d better take + a villa residence.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And then,’ pursued Morris, ‘there’s no water. How do you get your water?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We fill THAT from the spring,’ replied the carpenter, pointing to a big + barrel that stood beside the door. ‘The spring ain’t so VERY far off, + after all, and it’s easy brought in buckets. There’s a bucket there.’ + </p> + <p> + Morris nudged his brother as they examined the water-butt. It was new, and + very solidly constructed for its office. If anything had been wanting to + decide them, this eminently practical barrel would have turned the scale. + A bargain was promptly struck, the month’s rent was paid upon the nail, + and about an hour later the Finsbury brothers might have been observed + returning to the blighted cottage, having along with them the key, which + was the symbol of their tenancy, a spirit-lamp, with which they fondly + told themselves they would be able to cook, a pork pie of suitable + dimensions, and a quart of the worst whisky in Hampshire. Nor was this all + they had effected; already (under the plea that they were + landscape-painters) they had hired for dawn on the morrow a light but + solid two-wheeled cart; so that when they entered in their new character, + they were able to tell themselves that the back of the business was + already broken. + </p> + <p> + John proceeded to get tea; while Morris, foraging about the house, was + presently delighted by discovering the lid of the water-butt upon the + kitchen shelf. Here, then, was the packing-case complete; in the absence + of straw, the blankets (which he himself, at least, had not the smallest + intention of using for their present purpose) would exactly take the place + of packing; and Morris, as the difficulties began to vanish from his path, + rose almost to the brink of exultation. There was, however, one difficulty + not yet faced, one upon which his whole scheme depended. Would John + consent to remain alone in the cottage? He had not yet dared to put the + question. + </p> + <p> + It was with high good-humour that the pair sat down to the deal table, and + proceeded to fall-to on the pork pie. Morris retailed the discovery of the + lid, and the Great Vance was pleased to applaud by beating on the table + with his fork in true music-hall style. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s the dodge,’ he cried. ‘I always said a water-butt was what you + wanted for this business.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Of course,’ said Morris, thinking this a favourable opportunity to + prepare his brother, ‘of course you must stay on in this place till I give + the word; I’ll give out that uncle is resting in the New Forest. It would + not do for both of us to appear in London; we could never conceal the + absence of the old man.’ + </p> + <p> + John’s jaw dropped. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, come!’ he cried. ‘You can stay in this hole yourself. I won’t.’ + </p> + <p> + The colour came into Morris’s cheeks. He saw that he must win his brother + at any cost. + </p> + <p> + ‘You must please remember, Johnny,’ he said, ‘the amount of the tontine. + If I succeed, we shall have each fifty thousand to place to our bank + account; ay, and nearer sixty.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But if you fail,’ returned John, ‘what then? What’ll be the colour of our + bank account in that case?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I will pay all expenses,’ said Morris, with an inward struggle; ‘you + shall lose nothing.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ said John, with a laugh, ‘if the ex-s are yours, and half-profits + mine, I don’t mind remaining here for a couple of days.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A couple of days!’ cried Morris, who was beginning to get angry and + controlled himself with difficulty; ‘why, you would do more to win five + pounds on a horse-race!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Perhaps I would,’ returned the Great Vance; ‘it’s the artistic + temperament.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘This is monstrous!’ burst out Morris. ‘I take all risks; I pay all + expenses; I divide profits; and you won’t take the slightest pains to help + me. It’s not decent; it’s not honest; it’s not even kind.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But suppose,’ objected John, who was considerably impressed by his + brother’s vehemence, ‘suppose that Uncle Masterman is alive after all, and + lives ten years longer; must I rot here all that time?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Of course not,’ responded Morris, in a more conciliatory tone; ‘I only + ask a month at the outside; and if Uncle Masterman is not dead by that + time you can go abroad.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Go abroad?’ repeated John eagerly. ‘Why shouldn’t I go at once? Tell ‘em + that Joseph and I are seeing life in Paris.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nonsense,’ said Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, but look here,’ said John; ‘it’s this house, it’s such a pig-sty, + it’s so dreary and damp. You said yourself that it was damp.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Only to the carpenter,’ Morris distinguished, ‘and that was to reduce the + rent. But really, you know, now we’re in it, I’ve seen worse.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And what am I to do?’ complained the victim. ‘How can I entertain a + friend?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear Johnny, if you don’t think the tontine worth a little trouble, + say so, and I’ll give the business up.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You’re dead certain of the figures, I suppose?’ asked John. ‘Well’—with + a deep sigh—‘send me the Pink Un and all the comic papers regularly. + I’ll face the music.’ + </p> + <p> + As afternoon drew on, the cottage breathed more thrillingly of its native + marsh; a creeping chill inhabited its chambers; the fire smoked, and a + shower of rain, coming up from the channel on a slant of wind, tingled on + the window-panes. At intervals, when the gloom deepened toward despair, + Morris would produce the whisky-bottle, and at first John welcomed the + diversion—not for long. It has been said this spirit was the worst + in Hampshire; only those acquainted with the county can appreciate the + force of that superlative; and at length even the Great Vance (who was no + connoisseur) waved the decoction from his lips. The approach of dusk, + feebly combated with a single tallow candle, added a touch of tragedy; and + John suddenly stopped whistling through his fingers—an art to the + practice of which he had been reduced—and bitterly lamented his + concessions. + </p> + <p> + ‘I can’t stay here a month,’ he cried. ‘No one could. The thing’s + nonsense, Morris. The parties that lived in the Bastille would rise + against a place like this.’ + </p> + <p> + With an admirable affectation of indifference, Morris proposed a game of + pitch-and-toss. To what will not the diplomatist condescend! It was John’s + favourite game; indeed his only game—he had found all the rest too + intellectual—and he played it with equal skill and good fortune. To + Morris himself, on the other hand, the whole business was detestable; he + was a bad pitcher, he had no luck in tossing, and he was one who suffered + torments when he lost. But John was in a dangerous humour, and his brother + was prepared for any sacrifice. + </p> + <p> + By seven o’clock, Morris, with incredible agony, had lost a couple of + half-crowns. Even with the tontine before his eyes, this was as much as he + could bear; and, remarking that he would take his revenge some other time, + he proposed a bit of supper and a grog. + </p> + <p> + Before they had made an end of this refreshment it was time to be at work. + A bucket of water for present necessities was withdrawn from the + water-butt, which was then emptied and rolled before the kitchen fire to + dry; and the two brothers set forth on their adventure under a starless + heaven. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. The Lecturer at Large + </h2> + <p> + Whether mankind is really partial to happiness is an open question. Not a + month passes by but some cherished son runs off into the merchant service, + or some valued husband decamps to Texas with a lady help; clergymen have + fled from their parishioners; and even judges have been known to retire. + To an open mind, it will appear (upon the whole) less strange that Joseph + Finsbury should have been led to entertain ideas of escape. His lot (I + think we may say) was not a happy one. My friend, Mr Morris, with whom I + travel up twice or thrice a week from Snaresbrook Park, is certainly a + gentleman whom I esteem; but he was scarce a model nephew. As for John, he + is of course an excellent fellow; but if he was the only link that bound + one to a home, I think the most of us would vote for foreign travel. In + the case of Joseph, John (if he were a link at all) was not the only one; + endearing bonds had long enchained the old gentleman to Bloomsbury; and by + these expressions I do not in the least refer to Julia Hazeltine (of whom, + however, he was fond enough), but to that collection of manuscript + notebooks in which his life lay buried. That he should ever have made up + his mind to separate himself from these collections, and go forth upon the + world with no other resources than his memory supplied, is a circumstance + highly pathetic in itself, and but little creditable to the wisdom of his + nephews. + </p> + <p> + The design, or at least the temptation, was already some months old; and + when a bill for eight hundred pounds, payable to himself, was suddenly + placed in Joseph’s hand, it brought matters to an issue. He retained that + bill, which, to one of his frugality, meant wealth; and he promised + himself to disappear among the crowds at Waterloo, or (if that should + prove impossible) to slink out of the house in the course of the evening + and melt like a dream into the millions of London. By a peculiar + interposition of Providence and railway mismanagement he had not so long + to wait. + </p> + <p> + He was one of the first to come to himself and scramble to his feet after + the Browndean catastrophe, and he had no sooner remarked his prostrate + nephews than he understood his opportunity and fled. A man of upwards of + seventy, who has just met with a railway accident, and who is cumbered + besides with the full uniform of Sir Faraday Bond, is not very likely to + flee far, but the wood was close at hand and offered the fugitive at least + a temporary covert. Hither, then, the old gentleman skipped with + extraordinary expedition, and, being somewhat winded and a good deal + shaken, here he lay down in a convenient grove and was presently + overwhelmed by slumber. The way of fate is often highly entertaining to + the looker-on, and it is certainly a pleasant circumstance, that while + Morris and John were delving in the sand to conceal the body of a total + stranger, their uncle lay in dreamless sleep a few hundred yards deeper in + the wood. + </p> + <p> + He was awakened by the jolly note of a bugle from the neighbouring high + road, where a char-a-banc was bowling by with some belated tourists. The + sound cheered his old heart, it directed his steps into the bargain, and + soon he was on the highway, looking east and west from under his vizor, + and doubtfully revolving what he ought to do. A deliberate sound of wheels + arose in the distance, and then a cart was seen approaching, well filled + with parcels, driven by a good-natured looking man on a double bench, and + displaying on a board the legend, ‘I Chandler, carrier’. In the infamously + prosaic mind of Mr Finsbury, certain streaks of poetry survived and were + still efficient; they had carried him to Asia Minor as a giddy youth of + forty, and now, in the first hours of his recovered freedom, they + suggested to him the idea of continuing his flight in Mr Chandler’s cart. + It would be cheap; properly broached, it might even cost nothing, and, + after years of mittens and hygienic flannel, his heart leaped out to meet + the notion of exposure. + </p> + <p> + Mr Chandler was perhaps a little puzzled to find so old a gentleman, so + strangely clothed, and begging for a lift on so retired a roadside. But he + was a good-natured man, glad to do a service, and so he took the stranger + up; and he had his own idea of civility, and so he asked no questions. + Silence, in fact, was quite good enough for Mr Chandler; but the cart had + scarcely begun to move forward ere he found himself involved in a + one-sided conversation. + </p> + <p> + ‘I can see,’ began Mr Finsbury, ‘by the mixture of parcels and boxes that + are contained in your cart, each marked with its individual label, and by + the good Flemish mare you drive, that you occupy the post of carrier in + that great English system of transport which, with all its defects, is the + pride of our country.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, sir,’ returned Mr Chandler vaguely, for he hardly knew what to + reply; ‘them parcels posts has done us carriers a world of harm.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am not a prejudiced man,’ continued Joseph Finsbury. ‘As a young man I + travelled much. Nothing was too small or too obscure for me to acquire. At + sea I studied seamanship, learned the complicated knots employed by + mariners, and acquired the technical terms. At Naples, I would learn the + art of making macaroni; at Nice, the principles of making candied fruit. I + never went to the opera without first buying the book of the piece, and + making myself acquainted with the principal airs by picking them out on + the piano with one finger.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You must have seen a deal, sir,’ remarked the carrier, touching up his + horse; ‘I wish I could have had your advantages.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you know how often the word whip occurs in the Old Testament?’ + continued the old gentleman. ‘One hundred and (if I remember exactly) + forty-seven times.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do it indeed, sir?’ said Mr Chandler. ‘I never should have thought it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The Bible contains three million five hundred and one thousand two + hundred and forty-nine letters. Of verses I believe there are upward of + eighteen thousand. There have been many editions of the Bible; Wycliff was + the first to introduce it into England about the year 1300. The “Paragraph + Bible”, as it is called, is a well-known edition, and is so called because + it is divided into paragraphs. The “Breeches Bible” is another well-known + instance, and gets its name either because it was printed by one Breeches, + or because the place of publication bore that name.’ + </p> + <p> + The carrier remarked drily that he thought that was only natural, and + turned his attention to the more congenial task of passing a cart of hay; + it was a matter of some difficulty, for the road was narrow, and there was + a ditch on either hand. + </p> + <p> + ‘I perceive,’ began Mr Finsbury, when they had successfully passed the + cart, ‘that you hold your reins with one hand; you should employ two.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, I like that!’ cried the carrier contemptuously. ‘Why?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You do not understand,’ continued Mr Finsbury. ‘What I tell you is a + scientific fact, and reposes on the theory of the lever, a branch of + mechanics. There are some very interesting little shilling books upon the + field of study, which I should think a man in your station would take a + pleasure to read. But I am afraid you have not cultivated the art of + observation; at least we have now driven together for some time, and I + cannot remember that you have contributed a single fact. This is a very + false principle, my good man. For instance, I do not know if you observed + that (as you passed the hay-cart man) you took your left?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Of course I did,’ cried the carrier, who was now getting belligerent; + ‘he’d have the law on me if I hadn’t.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘In France, now,’ resumed the old man, ‘and also, I believe, in the + </p> + <p> + United States of America, you would have taken the right.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I would not,’ cried Mr Chandler indignantly. ‘I would have taken the + left.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I observe again,’ continued Mr Finsbury, scorning to reply, ‘that you + mend the dilapidated parts of your harness with string. I have always + protested against this carelessness and slovenliness of the English poor. + In an essay that I once read before an appreciative audience—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It ain’t string,’ said the carrier sullenly, ‘it’s pack-thread.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have always protested,’ resumed the old man, ‘that in their private and + domestic life, as well as in their labouring career, the lower classes of + this country are improvident, thriftless, and extravagant. A stitch in + time—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Who the devil ARE the lower classes?’ cried the carrier. ‘You are the + lower classes yourself! If I thought you were a blooming aristocrat, I + shouldn’t have given you a lift.’ + </p> + <p> + The words were uttered with undisguised ill-feeling; it was plain the pair + were not congenial, and further conversation, even to one of Mr Finsbury’s + pathetic loquacity, was out of the question. With an angry gesture, he + pulled down the brim of the forage-cap over his eyes, and, producing a + notebook and a blue pencil from one of his innermost pockets, soon became + absorbed in calculations. + </p> + <p> + On his part the carrier fell to whistling with fresh zest; and if (now and + again) he glanced at the companion of his drive, it was with mingled + feelings of triumph and alarm—triumph because he had succeeded in + arresting that prodigy of speech, and alarm lest (by any accident) it + should begin again. Even the shower, which presently overtook and passed + them, was endured by both in silence; and it was still in silence that + they drove at length into Southampton. + </p> + <p> + Dusk had fallen; the shop windows glimmered forth into the streets of the + old seaport; in private houses lights were kindled for the evening meal; + and Mr Finsbury began to think complacently of his night’s lodging. He put + his papers by, cleared his throat, and looked doubtfully at Mr Chandler. + </p> + <p> + ‘Will you be civil enough,’ said he, ‘to recommend me to an inn?’ Mr + Chandler pondered for a moment. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ he said at last, ‘I wonder how about the “Tregonwell Arms”.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The “Tregonwell Arms” will do very well,’ returned the old man, ‘if it’s + clean and cheap, and the people civil.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I wasn’t thinking so much of you,’ returned Mr Chandler thoughtfully. ‘I + was thinking of my friend Watts as keeps the ‘ouse; he’s a friend of mine, + you see, and he helped me through my trouble last year. And I was + thinking, would it be fair-like on Watts to saddle him with an old party + like you, who might be the death of him with general information. Would it + be fair to the ‘ouse?’ enquired Mr Chandler, with an air of candid appeal. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mark me,’ cried the old gentleman with spirit. ‘It was kind in you to + bring me here for nothing, but it gives you no right to address me in such + terms. Here’s a shilling for your trouble; and, if you do not choose to + set me down at the “Tregonwell Arms”, I can find it for myself.’ + </p> + <p> + Chandler was surprised and a little startled; muttering something + apologetic, he returned the shilling, drove in silence through several + intricate lanes and small streets, drew up at length before the bright + windows of an inn, and called loudly for Mr Watts. + </p> + <p> + ‘Is that you, Jem?’ cried a hearty voice from the stableyard. ‘Come in and + warm yourself.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I only stopped here,’ Mr Chandler explained, ‘to let down an old gent + that wants food and lodging. Mind, I warn you agin him; he’s worse nor a + temperance lecturer.’ + </p> + <p> + Mr Finsbury dismounted with difficulty, for he was cramped with his long + drive, and the shaking he had received in the accident. The friendly Mr + Watts, in spite of the carter’s scarcely agreeable introduction, treated + the old gentleman with the utmost courtesy, and led him into the back + parlour, where there was a big fire burning in the grate. Presently a + table was spread in the same room, and he was invited to seat himself + before a stewed fowl—somewhat the worse for having seen service + before—and a big pewter mug of ale from the tap. + </p> + <p> + He rose from supper a giant refreshed; and, changing his seat to one + nearer the fire, began to examine the other guests with an eye to the + delights of oratory. There were near a dozen present, all men, and (as + Joseph exulted to perceive) all working men. Often already had he seen + cause to bless that appetite for disconnected fact and rotatory argument + which is so marked a character of the mechanic. But even an audience of + working men has to be courted, and there was no man more deeply versed in + the necessary arts than Joseph Finsbury. He placed his glasses on his + nose, drew from his pocket a bundle of papers, and spread them before him + on a table. He crumpled them, he smoothed them out; now he skimmed them + over, apparently well pleased with their contents; now, with tapping + pencil and contracted brows, he seemed maturely to consider some + particular statement. A stealthy glance about the room assured him of the + success of his manoeuvres; all eyes were turned on the performer, mouths + were open, pipes hung suspended; the birds were charmed. At the same + moment the entrance of Mr Watts afforded him an opportunity. + </p> + <p> + ‘I observe,’ said he, addressing the landlord, but taking at the same time + the whole room into his confidence with an encouraging look, ‘I observe + that some of these gentlemen are looking with curiosity in my direction; + and certainly it is unusual to see anyone immersed in literary and + scientific labours in the public apartment of an inn. I have here some + calculations I made this morning upon the cost of living in this and other + countries—a subject, I need scarcely say, highly interesting to the + working classes. I have calculated a scale of living for incomes of + eighty, one hundred and sixty, two hundred, and two hundred and forty + pounds a year. I must confess that the income of eighty pounds has + somewhat baffled me, and the others are not so exact as I could wish; for + the price of washing varies largely in foreign countries, and the + different cokes, coals and firewoods fluctuate surprisingly. I will read + my researches, and I hope you won’t scruple to point out to me any little + errors that I may have committed either from oversight or ignorance. I + will begin, gentlemen, with the income of eighty pounds a year.’ + </p> + <p> + Whereupon the old gentleman, with less compassion than he would have had + for brute beasts, delivered himself of all his tedious calculations. As he + occasionally gave nine versions of a single income, placing the imaginary + person in London, Paris, Bagdad, Spitzbergen, Bassorah, Heligoland, the + Scilly Islands, Brighton, Cincinnati, and Nijni-Novgorod, with an + appropriate outfit for each locality, it is no wonder that his hearers + look back on that evening as the most tiresome they ever spent. + </p> + <p> + Long before Mr Finsbury had reached Nijni-Novgorod with the income of one + hundred and sixty pounds, the company had dwindled and faded away to a few + old topers and the bored but affable Watts. There was a constant stream of + customers from the outer world, but so soon as they were served they drank + their liquor quickly and departed with the utmost celerity for the next + public-house. + </p> + <p> + By the time the young man with two hundred a year was vegetating in the + Scilly Islands, Mr Watts was left alone with the economist; and that + imaginary person had scarce commenced life at Brighton before the last of + his pursuers desisted from the chase. + </p> + <p> + Mr Finsbury slept soundly after the manifold fatigues of the day. He rose + late, and, after a good breakfast, ordered the bill. Then it was that he + made a discovery which has been made by many others, both before and + since: that it is one thing to order your bill, and another to discharge + it. The items were moderate and (what does not always follow) the total + small; but, after the most sedulous review of all his pockets, one and + nine pence halfpenny appeared to be the total of the old gentleman’s + available assets. He asked to see Mr Watts. + </p> + <p> + ‘Here is a bill on London for eight hundred pounds,’ said Mr Finsbury, as + that worthy appeared. ‘I am afraid, unless you choose to discount it + yourself, it may detain me a day or two till I can get it cashed.’ + </p> + <p> + Mr Watts looked at the bill, turned it over, and dogs-eared it with his + fingers. ‘It will keep you a day or two?’ he said, repeating the old man’s + words. ‘You have no other money with you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Some trifling change,’ responded Joseph. ‘Nothing to speak of.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then you can send it me; I should be pleased to trust you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To tell the truth,’ answered the old gentleman, ‘I am more than half + inclined to stay; I am in need of funds.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If a loan of ten shillings would help you, it is at your service,’ + responded Watts, with eagerness. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, I think I would rather stay,’ said the old man, ‘and get my bill + discounted.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You shall not stay in my house,’ cried Mr Watts. ‘This is the last time + you shall have a bed at the “Tregonwell Arms”.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I insist upon remaining,’ replied Mr Finsbury, with spirit; ‘I remain by + Act of Parliament; turn me out if you dare.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then pay your bill,’ said Mr Watts. + </p> + <p> + ‘Take that,’ cried the old man, tossing him the negotiable bill. + </p> + <p> + ‘It is not legal tender,’ replied Mr Watts. ‘You must leave my house at + once.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You cannot appreciate the contempt I feel for you, Mr Watts,’ said the + old gentleman, resigning himself to circumstances. ‘But you shall feel it + in one way: I refuse to pay my bill.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t care for your bill,’ responded Mr Watts. ‘What I want is your + absence.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That you shall have!’ said the old gentleman, and, taking up his forage + cap as he spoke, he crammed it on his head. ‘Perhaps you are too + insolent,’ he added, ‘to inform me of the time of the next London train?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It leaves in three-quarters of an hour,’ returned the innkeeper with + alacrity. ‘You can easily catch it.’ + </p> + <p> + Joseph’s position was one of considerable weakness. On the one hand, it + would have been well to avoid the direct line of railway, since it was + there he might expect his nephews to lie in wait for his recapture; on the + other, it was highly desirable, it was even strictly needful, to get the + bill discounted ere it should be stopped. To London, therefore, he decided + to proceed on the first train; and there remained but one point to be + considered, how to pay his fare. + </p> + <p> + Joseph’s nails were never clean; he ate almost entirely with his knife. I + doubt if you could say he had the manners of a gentleman; but he had + better than that, a touch of genuine dignity. Was it from his stay in Asia + Minor? Was it from a strain in the Finsbury blood sometimes alluded to by + customers? At least, when he presented himself before the station-master, + his salaam was truly Oriental, palm-trees appeared to crowd about the + little office, and the simoom or the bulbul—but I leave this image + to persons better acquainted with the East. His appearance, besides, was + highly in his favour; the uniform of Sir Faraday, however inconvenient and + conspicuous, was, at least, a costume in which no swindler could have + hoped to prosper; and the exhibition of a valuable watch and a bill for + eight hundred pounds completed what deportment had begun. A quarter of an + hour later, when the train came up, Mr Finsbury was introduced to the + guard and installed in a first-class compartment, the station-master + smilingly assuming all responsibility. + </p> + <p> + As the old gentleman sat waiting the moment of departure, he was the + witness of an incident strangely connected with the fortunes of his house. + A packing-case of cyclopean bulk was borne along the platform by some + dozen of tottering porters, and ultimately, to the delight of a + considerable crowd, hoisted on board the van. It is often the cheering + task of the historian to direct attention to the designs and (if it may be + reverently said) the artifices of Providence. In the luggage van, as + Joseph was borne out of the station of Southampton East upon his way to + London, the egg of his romance lay (so to speak) unhatched. The huge + packing-case was directed to lie at Waterloo till called for, and + addressed to one ‘William Dent Pitman’; and the very next article, a + goodly barrel jammed into the corner of the van, bore the superscription, + ‘M. Finsbury, 16 John Street, Bloomsbury. Carriage paid.’ + </p> + <p> + In this juxtaposition, the train of powder was prepared; and there was now + wanting only an idle hand to fire it off. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. The Magistrate in the Luggage Van + </h2> + <p> + The city of Winchester is famed for a cathedral, a bishop—but he was + unfortunately killed some years ago while riding—a public school, a + considerable assortment of the military, and the deliberate passage of the + trains of the London and South-Western line. These and many similar + associations would have doubtless crowded on the mind of Joseph Finsbury; + but his spirit had at that time flitted from the railway compartment to a + heaven of populous lecture-halls and endless oratory. His body, in the + meanwhile, lay doubled on the cushions, the forage-cap rakishly tilted + back after the fashion of those that lie in wait for nursery-maids, the + poor old face quiescent, one arm clutching to his heart Lloyd’s Weekly + Newspaper. + </p> + <p> + To him, thus unconscious, enter and exeunt again a pair of voyagers. These + two had saved the train and no more. A tandem urged to its last speed, an + act of something closely bordering on brigandage at the ticket office, and + a spasm of running, had brought them on the platform just as the engine + uttered its departing snort. There was but one carriage easily within + their reach; and they had sprung into it, and the leader and elder already + had his feet upon the floor, when he observed Mr Finsbury. + </p> + <p> + ‘Good God!’ he cried. ‘Uncle Joseph! This’ll never do.’ + </p> + <p> + And he backed out, almost upsetting his companion, and once more closed + the door upon the sleeping patriarch. + </p> + <p> + The next moment the pair had jumped into the baggage van. + </p> + <p> + ‘What’s the row about your Uncle Joseph?’ enquired the younger traveller, + mopping his brow. ‘Does he object to smoking?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know that there’s anything the row with him,’ returned the other. + ‘He’s by no means the first comer, my Uncle Joseph, I can tell you! Very + respectable old gentleman; interested in leather; been to Asia Minor; no + family, no assets—and a tongue, my dear Wickham, sharper than a + serpent’s tooth.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Cantankerous old party, eh?’ suggested Wickham. + </p> + <p> + ‘Not in the least,’ cried the other; ‘only a man with a solid talent for + being a bore; rather cheery I dare say, on a desert island, but on a + railway journey insupportable. You should hear him on Tonti, the ass that + started tontines. He’s incredible on Tonti.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘By Jove!’ cried Wickham, ‘then you’re one of these Finsbury tontine + fellows. I hadn’t a guess of that.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah!’ said the other, ‘do you know that old boy in the carriage is worth a + hundred thousand pounds to me? There he was asleep, and nobody there but + you! But I spared him, because I’m a Conservative in politics.’ + </p> + <p> + Mr Wickham, pleased to be in a luggage van, was flitting to and fro like a + gentlemanly butterfly. + </p> + <p> + ‘By Jingo!’ he cried, ‘here’s something for you! “M. Finsbury, 16 John + Street, Bloomsbury, London.” M. stands for Michael, you sly dog; you keep + two establishments, do you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, that’s Morris,’ responded Michael from the other end of the van, where + he had found a comfortable seat upon some sacks. ‘He’s a little cousin of + mine. I like him myself, because he’s afraid of me. He’s one of the + ornaments of Bloomsbury, and has a collection of some kind—birds’ + eggs or something that’s supposed to be curious. I bet it’s nothing to my + clients!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What a lark it would be to play billy with the labels!’ chuckled Mr + Wickham. ‘By George, here’s a tack-hammer! We might send all these things + skipping about the premises like what’s-his-name!’ + </p> + <p> + At this moment, the guard, surprised by the sound of voices, opened the + door of his little cabin. + </p> + <p> + ‘You had best step in here, gentlemen,’ said he, when he had heard their + story. + </p> + <p> + ‘Won’t you come, Wickham?’ asked Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘Catch me—I want to travel in a van,’ replied the youth. + </p> + <p> + And so the door of communication was closed; and for the rest of the run + Mr Wickham was left alone over his diversions on the one side, and on the + other Michael and the guard were closeted together in familiar talk. + </p> + <p> + ‘I can get you a compartment here, sir,’ observed the official, as the + train began to slacken speed before Bishopstoke station. ‘You had best get + out at my door, and I can bring your friend.’ + </p> + <p> + Mr Wickham, whom we left (as the reader has shrewdly suspected) beginning + to ‘play billy’ with the labels in the van, was a young gentleman of much + wealth, a pleasing but sandy exterior, and a highly vacant mind. Not many + months before, he had contrived to get himself blackmailed by the family + of a Wallachian Hospodar, resident for political reasons in the gay city + of Paris. A common friend (to whom he had confided his distress) + recommended him to Michael; and the lawyer was no sooner in possession of + the facts than he instantly assumed the offensive, fell on the flank of + the Wallachian forces, and, in the inside of three days, had the + satisfaction to behold them routed and fleeing for the Danube. It is no + business of ours to follow them on this retreat, over which the police + were so obliging as to preside paternally. Thus relieved from what he + loved to refer to as the Bulgarian Atrocity, Mr Wickham returned to London + with the most unbounded and embarrassing gratitude and admiration for his + saviour. These sentiments were not repaid either in kind or degree; + indeed, Michael was a trifle ashamed of his new client’s friendship; it + had taken many invitations to get him to Winchester and Wickham Manor; but + he had gone at last, and was now returning. It has been remarked by some + judicious thinker (possibly J. F. Smith) that Providence despises to + employ no instrument, however humble; and it is now plain to the dullest + that both Mr Wickham and the Wallachian Hospodar were liquid lead and + wedges in the hand of Destiny. + </p> + <p> + Smitten with the desire to shine in Michael’s eyes and show himself a + person of original humour and resources, the young gentleman (who was a + magistrate, more by token, in his native county) was no sooner alone in + the van than he fell upon the labels with all the zeal of a reformer; and, + when he rejoined the lawyer at Bishopstoke, his face was flushed with his + exertions, and his cigar, which he had suffered to go out was almost + bitten in two. + </p> + <p> + ‘By George, but this has been a lark!’ he cried. ‘I’ve sent the wrong + thing to everybody in England. These cousins of yours have a packing-case + as big as a house. I’ve muddled the whole business up to that extent, + Finsbury, that if it were to get out it’s my belief we should get + lynched.’ + </p> + <p> + It was useless to be serious with Mr Wickham. ‘Take care,’ said Michael. + ‘I am getting tired of your perpetual scrapes; my reputation is beginning + to suffer.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Your reputation will be all gone before you finish with me,’ replied his + companion with a grin. ‘Clap it in the bill, my boy. “For total loss of + reputation, six and eightpence.” But,’ continued Mr Wickham with more + seriousness, ‘could I be bowled out of the Commission for this little + jest? I know it’s small, but I like to be a JP. Speaking as a professional + man, do you think there’s any risk?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What does it matter?’ responded Michael, ‘they’ll chuck you out sooner or + later. Somehow you don’t give the effect of being a good magistrate.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I only wish I was a solicitor,’ retorted his companion, ‘instead of a + poor devil of a country gentleman. Suppose we start one of those tontine + affairs ourselves; I to pay five hundred a year, and you to guarantee me + against every misfortune except illness or marriage.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It strikes me,’ remarked the lawyer with a meditative laugh, as he + lighted a cigar, ‘it strikes me that you must be a cursed nuisance in this + world of ours.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you really think so, Finsbury?’ responded the magistrate, leaning back + in his cushions, delighted with the compliment. ‘Yes, I suppose I am a + nuisance. But, mind you, I have a stake in the country: don’t forget that, + dear boy.’ + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. Mr Gideon Forsyth and the Gigantic Box + </h2> + <p> + It has been mentioned that at Bournemouth Julia sometimes made + acquaintances; it is true she had but a glimpse of them before the doors + of John Street closed again upon its captives, but the glimpse was + sometimes exhilarating, and the consequent regret was tempered with hope. + Among those whom she had thus met a year before was a young barrister of + the name of Gideon Forsyth. + </p> + <p> + About three o’clock of the eventful day when the magistrate tampered with + the labels, a somewhat moody and distempered ramble had carried Mr Forsyth + to the corner of John Street; and about the same moment Miss Hazeltine was + called to the door of No. 16 by a thundering double knock. + </p> + <p> + Mr Gideon Forsyth was a happy enough young man; he would have been happier + if he had had more money and less uncle. One hundred and twenty pounds a + year was all his store; but his uncle, Mr Edward Hugh Bloomfield, + supplemented this with a handsome allowance and a great deal of advice, + couched in language that would probably have been judged intemperate on + board a pirate ship. Mr Bloomfield was indeed a figure quite peculiar to + the days of Mr Gladstone; what we may call (for the lack of an accepted + expression) a Squirradical. Having acquired years without experience, he + carried into the Radical side of politics those noisy, after-dinner-table + passions, which we are more accustomed to connect with Toryism in its + severe and senile aspects. To the opinions of Mr Bradlaugh, in fact, he + added the temper and the sympathies of that extinct animal, the Squire; he + admired pugilism, he carried a formidable oaken staff, he was a reverent + churchman, and it was hard to know which would have more volcanically + stirred his choler—a person who should have defended the established + church, or one who should have neglected to attend its celebrations. He + had besides some levelling catchwords, justly dreaded in the family + circle; and when he could not go so far as to declare a step un-English, + he might still (and with hardly less effect) denounce it as unpractical. + It was under the ban of this lesser excommunication that Gideon had + fallen. His views on the study of law had been pronounced unpractical; and + it had been intimated to him, in a vociferous interview punctuated with + the oaken staff, that he must either take a new start and get a brief or + two, or prepare to live on his own money. + </p> + <p> + No wonder if Gideon was moody. He had not the slightest wish to modify his + present habits; but he would not stand on that, since the recall of Mr + Bloomfield’s allowance would revolutionize them still more radically. He + had not the least desire to acquaint himself with law; he had looked into + it already, and it seemed not to repay attention; but upon this also he + was ready to give way. In fact, he would go as far as he could to meet the + views of his uncle, the Squirradical. But there was one part of the + programme that appeared independent of his will. How to get a brief? there + was the question. And there was another and a worse. Suppose he got one, + should he prove the better man? + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he found his way barred by a crowd. A garishly illuminated van + was backed against the kerb; from its open stern, half resting on the + street, half supported by some glistening athletes, the end of the largest + packing-case in the county of Middlesex might have been seen protruding; + while, on the steps of the house, the burly person of the driver and the + slim figure of a young girl stood as upon a stage, disputing. + </p> + <p> + ‘It is not for us,’ the girl was saying. ‘I beg you to take it away; it + couldn’t get into the house, even if you managed to get it out of the + van.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall leave it on the pavement, then, and M. Finsbury can arrange with + the Vestry as he likes,’ said the vanman. + </p> + <p> + ‘But I am not M. Finsbury,’ expostulated the girl. + </p> + <p> + ‘It doesn’t matter who you are,’ said the vanman. + </p> + <p> + ‘You must allow me to help you, Miss Hazeltine,’ said Gideon, putting out + his hand. + </p> + <p> + Julia gave a little cry of pleasure. ‘O, Mr Forsyth,’ she cried, ‘I am so + glad to see you; we must get this horrid thing, which can only have come + here by mistake, into the house. The man says we’ll have to take off the + door, or knock two of our windows into one, or be fined by the Vestry or + Custom House or something for leaving our parcels on the pavement.’ + </p> + <p> + The men by this time had successfully removed the box from the van, had + plumped it down on the pavement, and now stood leaning against it, or + gazing at the door of No. 16, in visible physical distress and mental + embarrassment. The windows of the whole street had filled, as if by magic, + with interested and entertained spectators. + </p> + <p> + With as thoughtful and scientific an expression as he could assume, Gideon + measured the doorway with his cane, while Julia entered his observations + in a drawing-book. He then measured the box, and, upon comparing his data, + found that there was just enough space for it to enter. Next, throwing off + his coat and waistcoat, he assisted the men to take the door from its + hinges. And lastly, all bystanders being pressed into the service, the + packing-case mounted the steps upon some fifteen pairs of wavering legs—scraped, + loudly grinding, through the doorway—and was deposited at length, + with a formidable convulsion, in the far end of the lobby, which it almost + blocked. The artisans of this victory smiled upon each other as the dust + subsided. It was true they had smashed a bust of Apollo and ploughed the + wall into deep ruts; but, at least, they were no longer one of the public + spectacles of London. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, sir,’ said the vanman, ‘I never see such a job.’ + </p> + <p> + Gideon eloquently expressed his concurrence in this sentiment by pressing + a couple of sovereigns in the man’s hand. + </p> + <p> + ‘Make it three, sir, and I’ll stand Sam to everybody here!’ cried the + latter, and, this having been done, the whole body of volunteer porters + swarmed into the van, which drove off in the direction of the nearest + reliable public-house. Gideon closed the door on their departure, and + turned to Julia; their eyes met; the most uncontrollable mirth seized upon + them both, and they made the house ring with their laughter. Then + curiosity awoke in Julia’s mind, and she went and examined the box, and + more especially the label. + </p> + <p> + ‘This is the strangest thing that ever happened,’ she said, with another + burst of laughter. ‘It is certainly Morris’s handwriting, and I had a + letter from him only this morning, telling me to expect a barrel. Is there + a barrel coming too, do you think, Mr Forsyth?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Statuary with Care, Fragile,’” read Gideon aloud from the painted + warning on the box. ‘Then you were told nothing about this?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ responded Julia. ‘O, Mr Forsyth, don’t you think we might take a + peep at it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, indeed,’ cried Gideon. ‘Just let me have a hammer.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Come down, and I’ll show you where it is,’ cried Julia. ‘The shelf is too + high for me to reach’; and, opening the door of the kitchen stair, she + bade Gideon follow her. They found both the hammer and a chisel; but + Gideon was surprised to see no sign of a servant. He also discovered that + Miss Hazeltine had a very pretty little foot and ankle; and the discovery + embarrassed him so much that he was glad to fall at once upon the + packing-case. + </p> + <p> + He worked hard and earnestly, and dealt his blows with the precision of a + blacksmith; Julia the while standing silently by his side, and regarding + rather the workman than the work. He was a handsome fellow; she told + herself she had never seen such beautiful arms. And suddenly, as though he + had overheard these thoughts, Gideon turned and smiled to her. She, too, + smiled and coloured; and the double change became her so prettily that + Gideon forgot to turn away his eyes, and, swinging the hammer with a will, + discharged a smashing blow on his own knuckles. With admirable presence of + mind he crushed down an oath and substituted the harmless comment, ‘Butter + fingers!’ But the pain was sharp, his nerve was shaken, and after an + abortive trial he found he must desist from further operations. + </p> + <p> + In a moment Julia was off to the pantry; in a moment she was back again + with a basin of water and a sponge, and had begun to bathe his wounded + hand. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am dreadfully sorry!’ said Gideon apologetically. ‘If I had had any + manners I should have opened the box first and smashed my hand afterward. + It feels much better,’ he added. ‘I assure you it does.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And now I think you are well enough to direct operations,’ said she. + ‘Tell me what to do, and I’ll be your workman.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A very pretty workman,’ said Gideon, rather forgetting himself. She + turned and looked at him, with a suspicion of a frown; and the indiscreet + young man was glad to direct her attention to the packing-case. The bulk + of the work had been accomplished; and presently Julia had burst through + the last barrier and disclosed a zone of straw. in a moment they were + kneeling side by side, engaged like haymakers; the next they were rewarded + with a glimpse of something white and polished; and the next again laid + bare an unmistakable marble leg. + </p> + <p> + ‘He is surely a very athletic person,’ said Julia. + </p> + <p> + ‘I never saw anything like it,’ responded Gideon. ‘His muscles stand out + like penny rolls.’ + </p> + <p> + Another leg was soon disclosed, and then what seemed to be a third. This + resolved itself, however, into a knotted club resting upon a pedestal. + </p> + <p> + ‘It is a Hercules,’ cried Gideon; ‘I might have guessed that from his + calf. I’m supposed to be rather partial to statuary, but when it comes to + Hercules, the police should interfere. I should say,’ he added, glancing + with disaffection at the swollen leg, ‘that this was about the biggest and + the worst in Europe. What in heaven’s name can have induced him to come + here?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I suppose nobody else would have a gift of him,’ said Julia. ‘And for + that matter, I think we could have done without the monster very well.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, don’t say that,’ returned Gideon. ‘This has been one of the most + amusing experiences of my life.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t think you’ll forget it very soon,’ said Julia. ‘Your hand will + remind you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, I suppose I must be going,’ said Gideon reluctantly. ‘No,’ pleaded + Julia. ‘Why should you? Stay and have tea with me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If I thought you really wished me to stay,’ said Gideon, looking at his + hat, ‘of course I should only be too delighted.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What a silly person you must take me for!’ returned the girl. ‘Why, of + course I do; and, besides, I want some cakes for tea, and I’ve nobody to + send. Here is the latchkey.’ + </p> + <p> + Gideon put on his hat with alacrity, and casting one look at Miss + Hazeltine, and another at the legs of Hercules, threw open the door and + departed on his errand. + </p> + <p> + He returned with a large bag of the choicest and most tempting of cakes + and tartlets, and found Julia in the act of spreading a small tea-table in + the lobby. + </p> + <p> + ‘The rooms are all in such a state,’ she cried, ‘that I thought we should + be more cosy and comfortable in our own lobby, and under our own vine and + statuary.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ever so much better,’ cried Gideon delightedly. + </p> + <p> + ‘O what adorable cream tarts!’ said Julia, opening the bag, ‘and the + dearest little cherry tartlets, with all the cherries spilled out into the + cream!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said Gideon, concealing his dismay, ‘I knew they would mix + beautifully; the woman behind the counter told me so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now,’ said Julia, as they began their little festival, ‘I am going to + show you Morris’s letter; read it aloud, please; perhaps there’s something + I have missed.’ + </p> + <p> + Gideon took the letter, and spreading it out on his knee, read as follows: + </p> + <p> + DEAR JULIA, I write you from Browndean, where we are stopping over for a + few days. Uncle was much shaken in that dreadful accident, of which, I + dare say, you have seen the account. Tomorrow I leave him here with John, + and come up alone; but before that, you will have received a barrel + CONTAINING SPECIMENS FOR A FRIEND. Do not open it on any account, but + leave it in the lobby till I come. + </p> + <p> + Yours in haste, + </p> + <p> + M. FINSBURY. + </p> + <p> + P.S.—Be sure and leave the barrel in the lobby. + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ said Gideon, ‘there seems to be nothing about the monument,’ and he + nodded, as he spoke, at the marble legs. ‘Miss Hazeltine,’ he continued, + ‘would you mind me asking a few questions?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Certainly not,’ replied Julia; ‘and if you can make me understand why + Morris has sent a statue of Hercules instead of a barrel containing + specimens for a friend, I shall be grateful till my dying day. And what + are specimens for a friend?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I haven’t a guess,’ said Gideon. ‘Specimens are usually bits of stone, + but rather smaller than our friend the monument. Still, that is not the + point. Are you quite alone in this big house?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, I am at present,’ returned Julia. ‘I came up before them to prepare + the house, and get another servant. But I couldn’t get one I liked.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then you are utterly alone,’ said Gideon in amazement. ‘Are you not + afraid?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ responded Julia stoutly. ‘I don’t see why I should be more afraid + than you would be; I am weaker, of course, but when I found I must sleep + alone in the house I bought a revolver wonderfully cheap, and made the man + show me how to use it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And how do you use it?’ demanded Gideon, much amused at her courage. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why,’ said she, with a smile, ‘you pull the little trigger thing on top, + and then pointing it very low, for it springs up as you fire, you pull the + underneath little trigger thing, and it goes off as well as if a man had + done it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And how often have you used it?’ asked Gideon. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, I have not used it yet,’ said the determined young lady; ‘but I know + how, and that makes me wonderfully courageous, especially when I barricade + my door with a chest of drawers.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m awfully glad they are coming back soon,’ said Gideon. ‘This business + strikes me as excessively unsafe; if it goes on much longer, I could + provide you with a maiden aunt of mine, or my landlady if you preferred.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Lend me an aunt!’ cried Julia. ‘O, what generosity! I begin to think it + must have been you that sent the Hercules.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Believe me,’ cried the young man, ‘I admire you too much to send you such + an infamous work of art..’ + </p> + <p> + Julia was beginning to reply, when they were both startled by a knocking + at the door. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, Mr Forsyth!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t be afraid, my dear girl,’ said Gideon, laying his hand tenderly on + her arm. + </p> + <p> + ‘I know it’s the police,’ she whispered. ‘They are coming to complain + about the statue.’ + </p> + <p> + The knock was repeated. It was louder than before, and more impatient. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s Morris,’ cried Julia, in a startled voice, and she ran to the door + and opened it. + </p> + <p> + It was indeed Morris that stood before them; not the Morris of ordinary + days, but a wild-looking fellow, pale and haggard, with bloodshot eyes, + and a two-days’ beard upon his chin. + </p> + <p> + ‘The barrel!’ he cried. ‘Where’s the barrel that came this morning?’ And + he stared about the lobby, his eyes, as they fell upon the legs of + Hercules, literally goggling in his head. ‘What is that?’ he screamed. + ‘What is that waxwork? Speak, you fool! What is that? And where’s the + barrel—the water-butt?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No barrel came, Morris,’ responded Julia coldly. ‘This is the only thing + that has arrived.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘This!’ shrieked the miserable man. ‘I never heard of it!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It came addressed in your hand,’ replied Julia; ‘we had nearly to pull + the house down to get it in, that is all that I can tell you.’ + </p> + <p> + Morris gazed at her in utter bewilderment. He passed his hand over his + forehead; he leaned against the wall like a man about to faint. Then his + tongue was loosed, and he overwhelmed the girl with torrents of abuse. + Such fire, such directness, such a choice of ungentlemanly language, none + had ever before suspected Morris to possess; and the girl trembled and + shrank before his fury. + </p> + <p> + ‘You shall not speak to Miss Hazeltine in that way,’ said Gideon sternly. + ‘It is what I will not suffer.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall speak to the girl as I like,’ returned Morris, with a fresh + outburst of anger. ‘I’ll speak to the hussy as she deserves.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not a word more, sir, not one word,’ cried Gideon. ‘Miss Hazeltine,’ he + continued, addressing the young girl, ‘you cannot stay a moment longer in + the same house with this unmanly fellow. Here is my arm; let me take you + where you will be secure from insult.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mr Forsyth,’ returned Julia, ‘you are right; I cannot stay here longer, + and I am sure I trust myself to an honourable gentleman.’ + </p> + <p> + Pale and resolute, Gideon offered her his arm, and the pair descended the + steps, followed by Morris clamouring for the latchkey. + </p> + <p> + Julia had scarcely handed the key to Morris before an empty hansom drove + smartly into John Street. It was hailed by both men, and as the cabman + drew up his restive horse, Morris made a dash into the vehicle. + </p> + <p> + ‘Sixpence above fare,’ he cried recklessly. ‘Waterloo Station for your + life. Sixpence for yourself!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Make it a shilling, guv’ner,’ said the man, with a grin; ‘the other + parties were first.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A shilling then,’ cried Morris, with the inward reflection that he would + reconsider it at Waterloo. The man whipped up his horse, and the hansom + vanished from John Street. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. The Tribulations of Morris: Part the First + </h2> + <p> + As the hansom span through the streets of London, Morris sought to rally + the forces of his mind. The water-butt with the dead body had miscarried, + and it was essential to recover it. So much was clear; and if, by some + blest good fortune, it was still at the station, all might be well. If it + had been sent out, however, if it were already in the hands of some wrong + person, matters looked more ominous. People who receive unexplained + packages are usually keen to have them open; the example of Miss Hazeltine + (whom he cursed again) was there to remind him of the circumstance; and if + anyone had opened the water-butt—‘O Lord!’ cried Morris at the + thought, and carried his hand to his damp forehead. The private conception + of any breach of law is apt to be inspiriting, for the scheme (while yet + inchoate) wears dashing and attractive colours. Not so in the least that + part of the criminal’s later reflections which deal with the police. That + useful corps (as Morris now began to think) had scarce been kept + sufficiently in view when he embarked upon his enterprise. ‘I must play + devilish close,’ he reflected, and he was aware of an exquisite thrill of + fear in the region of the spine. + </p> + <p> + ‘Main line or loop?’ enquired the cabman, through the scuttle. + </p> + <p> + ‘Main line,’ replied Morris, and mentally decided that the man should have + his shilling after all. ‘It would be madness to attract attention,’ + thought he. ‘But what this thing will cost me, first and last, begins to + be a nightmare!’ + </p> + <p> + He passed through the booking-office and wandered disconsolately on the + platform. It was a breathing-space in the day’s traffic. There were few + people there, and these for the most part quiescent on the benches. Morris + seemed to attract no remark, which was a good thing; but, on the other + hand, he was making no progress in his quest. Something must be done, + something must be risked. Every passing instant only added to his dangers. + Summoning all his courage, he stopped a porter, and asked him if he + remembered receiving a barrel by the morning train. He was anxious to get + information, for the barrel belonged to a friend. ‘It is a matter of some + moment,’ he added, ‘for it contains specimens.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I was not here this morning, sir,’ responded the porter, somewhat + reluctantly, ‘but I’ll ask Bill. Do you recollect, Bill, to have got a + barrel from Bournemouth this morning containing specimens?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know about specimens,’ replied Bill; ‘but the party as received + the barrel I mean raised a sight of trouble.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What’s that?’ cried Morris, in the agitation of the moment pressing a + penny into the man’s hand. + </p> + <p> + ‘You see, sir, the barrel arrived at one-thirty. No one claimed it till + about three, when a small, sickly—looking gentleman (probably a + curate) came up, and sez he, “Have you got anything for Pitman?” or + “Wili’m Bent Pitman,” if I recollect right. “I don’t exactly know,” sez I, + “but I rather fancy that there barrel bears that name.” The little man + went up to the barrel, and seemed regularly all took aback when he saw the + address, and then he pitched into us for not having brought what he + wanted. “I don’t care a damn what you want,” sez I to him, “but if you are + Will’m Bent Pitman, there’s your barrel.”’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, and did he take it?’ cried the breathless Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, sir,’ returned Bill, ‘it appears it was a packing-case he was + after. The packing-case came; that’s sure enough, because it was about the + biggest packing-case ever I clapped eyes on. And this Pitman he seemed a + good deal cut up, and he had the superintendent out, and they got hold of + the vanman—him as took the packing-case. Well, sir,’ continued Bill, + with a smile, ‘I never see a man in such a state. Everybody about that van + was mortal, bar the horses. Some gen’leman (as well as I could make out) + had given the vanman a sov.; and so that was where the trouble come in, + you see.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But what did he say?’ gasped Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know as he SAID much, sir,’ said Bill. ‘But he offered to fight + this Pitman for a pot of beer. He had lost his book, too, and the + receipts, and his men were all as mortal as himself. O, they were all + like’—and Bill paused for a simile—‘like lords! The + superintendent sacked them on the spot.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, come, but that’s not so bad,’ said Morris, with a bursting sigh. ‘He + couldn’t tell where he took the packing-case, then?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not he,’ said Bill, ‘nor yet nothink else.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And what—what did Pitman do?’ asked Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, he went off with the barrel in a four-wheeler, very trembling like,’ + replied Bill. ‘I don’t believe he’s a gentleman as has good health.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, so the barrel’s gone,’ said Morris, half to himself. + </p> + <p> + ‘You may depend on that, sir,’ returned the porter. ‘But you had better + see the superintendent.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not in the least; it’s of no account,’ said Morris. ‘It only contained + specimens.’ And he walked hastily away. + </p> + <p> + Ensconced once more in a hansom, he proceeded to reconsider his position. + Suppose (he thought), suppose he should accept defeat and declare his + uncle’s death at once? He should lose the tontine, and with that the last + hope of his seven thousand eight hundred pounds. But on the other hand, + since the shilling to the hansom cabman, he had begun to see that crime + was expensive in its course, and, since the loss of the water-butt, that + it was uncertain in its consequences. Quietly at first, and then with + growing heat, he reviewed the advantages of backing out. It involved a + loss; but (come to think of it) no such great loss after all; only that of + the tontine, which had been always a toss-up, which at bottom he had never + really expected. He reminded himself of that eagerly; he congratulated + himself upon his constant moderation. He had never really expected the + tontine; he had never even very definitely hoped to recover his seven + thousand eight hundred pounds; he had been hurried into the whole thing by + Michael’s obvious dishonesty. Yes, it would probably be better to draw + back from this high-flying venture, settle back on the leather business— + </p> + <p> + ‘Great God!’ cried Morris, bounding in the hansom like a Jack-in-a-box. ‘I + have not only not gained the tontine—I have lost the leather + business!’ + </p> + <p> + Such was the monstrous fact. He had no power to sign; he could not draw a + cheque for thirty shillings. Until he could produce legal evidence of his + uncle’s death, he was a penniless outcast—and as soon as he produced + it he had lost the tontine! There was no hesitation on the part of Morris; + to drop the tontine like a hot chestnut, to concentrate all his forces on + the leather business and the rest of his small but legitimate inheritance, + was the decision of a single instant. And the next, the full extent of his + calamity was suddenly disclosed to him. Declare his uncle’s death? He + couldn’t! Since the body was lost Joseph had (in a legal sense) become + immortal. + </p> + <p> + There was no created vehicle big enough to contain Morris and his woes. He + paid the hansom off and walked on he knew not whither. + </p> + <p> + ‘I seem to have gone into this business with too much precipitation,’ he + reflected, with a deadly sigh. ‘I fear it seems too ramified for a person + of my powers of mind.’ + </p> + <p> + And then a remark of his uncle’s flashed into his memory: If you want to + think clearly, put it all down on paper. ‘Well, the old boy knew a thing + or two,’ said Morris. ‘I will try; but I don’t believe the paper was ever + made that will clear my mind.’ + </p> + <p> + He entered a place of public entertainment, ordered bread and cheese, and + writing materials, and sat down before them heavily. He tried the pen. It + was an excellent pen, but what was he to write? ‘I have it,’ cried Morris. + ‘Robinson Crusoe and the double columns!’ He prepared his paper after that + classic model, and began as follows: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Bad. —— Good. + + 1. I have lost my uncle’s body. + + 1. But then Pitman has found it. +</pre> + <p> + ‘Stop a bit,’ said Morris. ‘I am letting the spirit of antithesis run away + with me. Let’s start again.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Bad. —— Good. + + 1. I have lost my uncle’s body. + + 1. But then I no longer require to bury it. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 2. I have lost the tontine. + + 2.But I may still save that if Pitman disposes of the body, and + if I can find a physician who will stick at nothing. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 3. I have lost the leather business and the rest of my uncle’s + succession. + + 3. But not if Pitman gives the body up to the police. +</pre> + <p> + ‘O, but in that case I go to gaol; I had forgot that,’ thought Morris. + ‘Indeed, I don’t know that I had better dwell on that hypothesis at all; + it’s all very well to talk of facing the worst; but in a case of this kind + a man’s first duty is to his own nerve. Is there any answer to No. 3? Is + there any possible good side to such a beastly bungle? There must be, of + course, or where would be the use of this double-entry business? And—by + George, I have it!’ he exclaimed; ‘it’s exactly the same as the last!’ And + he hastily re-wrote the passage: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Bad. —— Good. + + 3. I have lost the leather business and the rest of my uncle’s + succession. + + 3. But not if I can find a physician who will stick at nothing. +</pre> + <p> + ‘This venal doctor seems quite a desideratum,’ he reflected. ‘I want him + first to give me a certificate that my uncle is dead, so that I may get + the leather business; and then that he’s alive—but here we are again + at the incompatible interests!’ And he returned to his tabulation: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Bad. —— Good. + + 4. I have almost no money. + + 4. But there is plenty in the bank. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 5. Yes, but I can’t get the money in the bank. + + 5. But—well, that seems unhappily to be the case. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 6. I have left the bill for eight hundred pounds in Uncle + Joseph’s pocket. + + 6. But if Pitman is only a dishonest man, the presence of this + bill may lead him to keep the whole thing dark and throw the body + into the New Cut. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 7. Yes, but if Pitman is dishonest and finds the bill, he will + know who Joseph is, and he may blackmail me. + + 7. Yes, but if I am right about Uncle Masterman, I can blackmail + Michael. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 8. But I can’t blackmail Michael (which is, besides, a very + dangerous thing to do) until I find out. + + 8. Worse luck! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 9. The leather business will soon want money for current + expenses, and I have none to give. + + 9. But the leather business is a sinking ship. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 10. Yes, but it’s all the ship I have. + + 10. A fact. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 11. John will soon want money, and I have none to give. + + 11. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 12. And the venal doctor will want money down. + + 12. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 13. And if Pitman is dishonest and don’t send me to gaol, he will + want a fortune. + + 13. +</pre> + <p> + ‘O, this seems to be a very one-sided business,’ exclaimed Morris. + ‘There’s not so much in this method as I was led to think.’ He crumpled + the paper up and threw it down; and then, the next moment, picked it up + again and ran it over. ‘It seems it’s on the financial point that my + position is weakest,’ he reflected. ‘Is there positively no way of raising + the wind? In a vast city like this, and surrounded by all the resources of + civilization, it seems not to be conceived! Let us have no more + precipitation. Is there nothing I can sell? My collection of signet—’ + But at the thought of scattering these loved treasures the blood leaped + into Morris’s check. ‘I would rather die!’ he exclaimed, and, cramming his + hat upon his head, strode forth into the streets. + </p> + <p> + ‘I MUST raise funds,’ he thought. ‘My uncle being dead, the money in the + bank is mine, or would be mine but for the cursed injustice that has + pursued me ever since I was an orphan in a commercial academy. I know what + any other man would do; any other man in Christendom would forge; although + I don’t know why I call it forging, either, when Joseph’s dead, and the + funds are my own. When I think of that, when I think that my uncle is + really as dead as mutton, and that I can’t prove it, my gorge rises at the + injustice of the whole affair. I used to feel bitterly about that seven + thousand eight hundred pounds; it seems a trifle now! Dear me, why, the + day before yesterday I was comparatively happy.’ + </p> + <p> + And Morris stood on the sidewalk and heaved another sobbing sigh. + </p> + <p> + ‘Then there’s another thing,’ he resumed; ‘can I? Am I able? Why didn’t I + practise different handwritings while I was young? How a fellow regrets + those lost opportunities when he grows up! But there’s one comfort: it’s + not morally wrong; I can try it on with a clear conscience, and even if I + was found out, I wouldn’t greatly care—morally, I mean. And then, if + I succeed, and if Pitman is staunch, there’s nothing to do but find a + venal doctor; and that ought to be simple enough in a place like London. + By all accounts the town’s alive with them. It wouldn’t do, of course, to + advertise for a corrupt physician; that would be impolitic. No, I suppose + a fellow has simply to spot along the streets for a red lamp and herbs in + the window, and then you go in and—and—and put it to him + plainly; though it seems a delicate step.’ + </p> + <p> + He was near home now, after many devious wanderings, and turned up John + Street. As he thrust his latchkey in the lock, another mortifying + reflection struck him to the heart. + </p> + <p> + ‘Not even this house is mine till I can prove him dead,’ he snarled, and + slammed the door behind him so that the windows in the attic rattled. + </p> + <p> + Night had long fallen; long ago the lamps and the shop-fronts had begun to + glitter down the endless streets; the lobby was pitch—dark; and, as + the devil would have it, Morris barked his shins and sprawled all his + length over the pedestal of Hercules. The pain was sharp; his temper was + already thoroughly undermined; by a last misfortune his hand closed on the + hammer as he fell; and, in a spasm of childish irritation, he turned and + struck at the offending statue. There was a splintering crash. + </p> + <p> + ‘O Lord, what have I done next?’ wailed Morris; and he groped his way to + find a candle. ‘Yes,’ he reflected, as he stood with the light in his hand + and looked upon the mutilated leg, from which about a pound of muscle was + detached. ‘Yes, I have destroyed a genuine antique; I may be in for + thousands!’ And then there sprung up in his bosom a sort of angry hope. + ‘Let me see,’ he thought. ‘Julia’s got rid of—, there’s nothing to + connect me with that beast Forsyth; the men were all drunk, and (what’s + better) they’ve been all discharged. O, come, I think this is another case + of moral courage! I’ll deny all knowledge of the thing.’ + </p> + <p> + A moment more, and he stood again before the Hercules, his lips sternly + compressed, the coal-axe and the meat-cleaver under his arm. The next, he + had fallen upon the packing-case. This had been already seriously + undermined by the operations of Gideon; a few well-directed blows, and it + already quaked and gaped; yet a few more, and it fell about Morris in a + shower of boards followed by an avalanche of straw. + </p> + <p> + And now the leather-merchant could behold the nature of his task: and at + the first sight his spirit quailed. It was, indeed, no more ambitious a + task for De Lesseps, with all his men and horses, to attack the hills of + Panama, than for a single, slim young gentleman, with no previous + experience of labour in a quarry, to measure himself against that bloated + monster on his pedestal. And yet the pair were well encountered: on the + one side, bulk—on the other, genuine heroic fire. + </p> + <p> + ‘Down you shall come, you great big, ugly brute!’ cried Morris aloud, with + something of that passion which swept the Parisian mob against the walls + of the Bastille. ‘Down you shall come, this night. I’ll have none of you + in my lobby.’ + </p> + <p> + The face, from its indecent expression, had particularly animated the zeal + of our iconoclast; and it was against the face that he began his + operations. The great height of the demigod—for he stood a fathom + and half in his stocking-feet—offered a preliminary obstacle to this + attack. But here, in the first skirmish of the battle, intellect already + began to triumph over matter. By means of a pair of library steps, the + injured householder gained a posture of advantage; and, with great swipes + of the coal-axe, proceeded to decapitate the brute. + </p> + <p> + Two hours later, what had been the erect image of a gigantic coal-porter + turned miraculously white, was now no more than a medley of disjected + members; the quadragenarian torso prone against the pedestal; the + lascivious countenance leering down the kitchen stair; the legs, the arms, + the hands, and even the fingers, scattered broadcast on the lobby floor. + Half an hour more, and all the debris had been laboriously carted to the + kitchen; and Morris, with a gentle sentiment of triumph, looked round upon + the scene of his achievements. Yes, he could deny all knowledge of it now: + the lobby, beyond the fact that it was partly ruinous, betrayed no trace + of the passage of Hercules. But it was a weary Morris that crept up to + bed; his arms and shoulders ached, the palms of his hands burned from the + rough kisses of the coal-axe, and there was one smarting finger that stole + continually to his mouth. Sleep long delayed to visit the dilapidated + hero, and with the first peep of day it had again deserted him. + </p> + <p> + The morning, as though to accord with his disastrous fortunes, dawned + inclemently. An easterly gale was shouting in the streets; flaws of rain + angrily assailed the windows; and as Morris dressed, the draught from the + fireplace vividly played about his legs. + </p> + <p> + ‘I think,’ he could not help observing bitterly, ‘that with all I have to + bear, they might have given me decent weather.’ + </p> + <p> + There was no bread in the house, for Miss Hazeltine (like all women left + to themselves) had subsisted entirely upon cake. But some of this was + found, and (along with what the poets call a glass of fair, cold water) + made up a semblance of a morning meal, and then down he sat undauntedly to + his delicate task. + </p> + <p> + Nothing can be more interesting than the study of signatures, written (as + they are) before meals and after, during indigestion and intoxication; + written when the signer is trembling for the life of his child or has come + from winning the Derby, in his lawyer’s office, or under the bright eyes + of his sweetheart. To the vulgar, these seem never the same; but to the + expert, the bank clerk, or the lithographer, they are constant quantities, + and as recognizable as the North Star to the night-watch on deck. + </p> + <p> + To all this Morris was alive. In the theory of that graceful art in which + he was now embarking, our spirited leather-merchant was beyond all + reproach. But, happily for the investor, forgery is an affair of practice. + And as Morris sat surrounded by examples of his uncle’s signature and of + his own incompetence, insidious depression stole upon his spirits. From + time to time the wind wuthered in the chimney at his back; from time to + time there swept over Bloomsbury a squall so dark that he must rise and + light the gas; about him was the chill and the mean disorder of a house + out of commission—the floor bare, the sofa heaped with books and + accounts enveloped in a dirty table-cloth, the pens rusted, the paper + glazed with a thick film of dust; and yet these were but adminicles of + misery, and the true root of his depression lay round him on the table in + the shape of misbegotten forgeries. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s one of the strangest things I ever heard of,’ he complained. ‘It + almost seems as if it was a talent that I didn’t possess.’ He went once + more minutely through his proofs. ‘A clerk would simply gibe at them,’ + said he. ‘Well, there’s nothing else but tracing possible.’ + </p> + <p> + He waited till a squall had passed and there came a blink of scowling + daylight. Then he went to the window, and in the face of all John Street + traced his uncle’s signature. It was a poor thing at the best. ‘But it + must do,’ said he, as he stood gazing woefully on his handiwork. ‘He’s + dead, anyway.’ And he filled up the cheque for a couple of hundred and + sallied forth for the Anglo-Patagonian Bank. + </p> + <p> + There, at the desk at which he was accustomed to transact business, and + with as much indifference as he could assume, Morris presented the forged + cheque to the big, red-bearded Scots teller. The teller seemed to view it + with surprise; and as he turned it this way and that, and even scrutinized + the signature with a magnifying-glass, his surprise appeared to warm into + disfavour. Begging to be excused for a moment, he passed away into the + rearmost quarters of the bank; whence, after an appreciable interval, he + returned again in earnest talk with a superior, an oldish and a baldish, + but a very gentlemanly man. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mr Morris Finsbury, I believe,’ said the gentlemanly man, fixing Morris + with a pair of double eye-glasses. + </p> + <p> + ‘That is my name,’ said Morris, quavering. ‘Is there anything wrong. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, the fact is, Mr Finsbury, you see we are rather surprised at + receiving this,’ said the other, flicking at the cheque. ‘There are no + effects.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No effects?’ cried Morris. ‘Why, I know myself there must be + eight-and-twenty hundred pounds, if there’s a penny.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Two seven six four, I think,’ replied the gentlemanly man; ‘but it was + drawn yesterday.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Drawn!’ cried Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘By your uncle himself, sir,’ continued the other. ‘Not only that, but we + discounted a bill for him for—let me see—how much was it for, + Mr Bell?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Eight hundred, Mr Judkin,’ replied the teller. + </p> + <p> + ‘Bent Pitman!’ cried Morris, staggering back. + </p> + <p> + ‘I beg your pardon,’ said Mr Judkin. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s—it’s only an expletive,’ said Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘I hope there’s nothing wrong, Mr Finsbury,’ said Mr Bell. + </p> + <p> + ‘All I can tell you,’ said Morris, with a harsh laugh,’ is that the whole + thing’s impossible. My uncle is at Bournemouth, unable to move.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Really!’ cried Mr Bell, and he recovered the cheque from Mr Judkin. ‘But + this cheque is dated in London, and today,’ he observed. ‘How d’ye account + for that, sir?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, that was a mistake,’ said Morris, and a deep tide of colour dyed his + face and neck. + </p> + <p> + ‘No doubt, no doubt,’ said Mr Judkin, but he looked at his customer + enquiringly. + </p> + <p> + ‘And—and—’ resumed Morris, ‘even if there were no effects—this + is a very trifling sum to overdraw—our firm—the name of + Finsbury, is surely good enough for such a wretched sum as this.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No doubt, Mr Finsbury,’ returned Mr Judkin; ‘and if you insist I will + take it into consideration; but I hardly think—in short, Mr + Finsbury, if there had been nothing else, the signature seems hardly all + that we could wish.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s of no consequence,’ replied Morris nervously. ‘I’ll get my uncle + to sign another. The fact is,’ he went on, with a bold stroke, ‘my uncle + is so far from well at present that he was unable to sign this cheque + without assistance, and I fear that my holding the pen for him may have + made the difference in the signature.’ + </p> + <p> + Mr Judkin shot a keen glance into Morris’s face; and then turned and + looked at Mr Bell. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ he said, ‘it seems as if we had been victimized by a swindler. + Pray tell Mr Finsbury we shall put detectives on at once. As for this + cheque of yours, I regret that, owing to the way it was signed, the bank + can hardly consider it—what shall I say?—businesslike,’ and he + returned the cheque across the counter. + </p> + <p> + Morris took it up mechanically; he was thinking of something very + different. + </p> + <p> + ‘In a—case of this kind,’ he began, ‘I believe the loss falls on us; + I mean upon my uncle and myself.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It does not, sir,’ replied Mr Bell; ‘the bank is responsible, and the + bank will either recover the money or refund it, you may depend on that.’ + </p> + <p> + Morris’s face fell; then it was visited by another gleam of hope. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll tell you what,’ he said, ‘you leave this entirely in my hands. I’ll + sift the matter. I’ve an idea, at any rate; and detectives,’ he added + appealingly, ‘are so expensive.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The bank would not hear of it,’ returned Mr Judkin. ‘The bank stands to + lose between three and four thousand pounds; it will spend as much more if + necessary. An undiscovered forger is a permanent danger. We shall clear it + up to the bottom, Mr Finsbury; set your mind at rest on that.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then I’ll stand the loss,’ said Morris boldly. ‘I order you to abandon + the search.’ He was determined that no enquiry should be made. + </p> + <p> + ‘I beg your pardon,’ returned Mr Judkin, ‘but we have nothing to do with + you in this matter, which is one between your uncle and ourselves. If he + should take this opinion, and will either come here himself or let me see + him in his sick-room—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Quite impossible,’ cried Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, then, you see,’ said Mr Judkin, ‘how my hands are tied. The whole + affair must go at once into the hands of the police.’ + </p> + <p> + Morris mechanically folded the cheque and restored it to his pocket—book. + </p> + <p> + ‘Good—morning,’ said he, and scrambled somehow out of the bank. + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know what they suspect,’ he reflected; ‘I can’t make them out, + their whole behaviour is thoroughly unbusinesslike. But it doesn’t matter; + all’s up with everything. The money has been paid; the police are on the + scent; in two hours that idiot Pitman will be nabbed—and the whole + story of the dead body in the evening papers.’ + </p> + <p> + If he could have heard what passed in the bank after his departure he + would have been less alarmed, perhaps more mortified. + </p> + <p> + ‘That was a curious affair, Mr Bell,’ said Mr Judkin. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, sir,’ said Mr Bell, ‘but I think we have given him a fright.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, we shall hear no more of Mr Morris Finsbury,’ returned the other; ‘it + was a first attempt, and the house have dealt with us so long that I was + anxious to deal gently. But I suppose, Mr Bell, there can be no mistake + about yesterday? It was old Mr Finsbury himself?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There could be no possible doubt of that,’ said Mr Bell with a chuckle. + ‘He explained to me the principles of banking.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, well,’ said Mr Judkin. ‘The next time he calls ask him to step into + my room. It is only proper he should be warned.’ + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. In Which William Dent Pitman takes Legal Advice + </h2> + <p> + Norfolk Street, King’s Road—jocularly known among Mr Pitman’s + lodgers as ‘Norfolk Island’—is neither a long, a handsome, nor a + pleasing thoroughfare. Dirty, undersized maids-of-all-work issue from it + in pursuit of beer, or linger on its sidewalk listening to the voice of + love. The cat’s-meat man passes twice a day. An occasional organ-grinder + wanders in and wanders out again, disgusted. In holiday-time the street is + the arena of the young bloods of the neighbourhood, and the householders + have an opportunity of studying the manly art of self-defence. And yet + Norfolk Street has one claim to be respectable, for it contains not a + single shop—unless you count the public-house at the corner, which + is really in the King’s Road. + </p> + <p> + The door of No. 7 bore a brass plate inscribed with the legend ‘W. D. + Pitman, Artist’. It was not a particularly clean brass plate, nor was No. + 7 itself a particularly inviting place of residence. And yet it had a + character of its own, such as may well quicken the pulse of the reader’s + curiosity. For here was the home of an artist—and a distinguished + artist too, highly distinguished by his ill-success—which had never + been made the subject of an article in the illustrated magazines. No + wood-engraver had ever reproduced ‘a corner in the back drawing-room’ or + ‘the studio mantelpiece’ of No. 7; no young lady author had ever commented + on ‘the unaffected simplicity’ with which Mr Pitman received her in the + midst of his ‘treasures’. It is an omission I would gladly supply, but our + business is only with the backward parts and ‘abject rear’ of this + aesthetic dwelling. + </p> + <p> + Here was a garden, boasting a dwarf fountain (that never played) in the + centre, a few grimy-looking flowers in pots, two or three newly planted + trees which the spring of Chelsea visited without noticeable consequence, + and two or three statues after the antique, representing satyrs and nymphs + in the worst possible style of sculptured art. On one side the garden was + overshadowed by a pair of crazy studios, usually hired out to the more + obscure and youthful practitioners of British art. Opposite these another + lofty out-building, somewhat more carefully finished, and boasting of a + communication with the house and a private door on the back lane, + enshrined the multifarious industry of Mr Pitman. All day, it is true, he + was engaged in the work of education at a seminary for young ladies; but + the evenings at least were his own, and these he would prolong far into + the night, now dashing off ‘A landscape with waterfall’ in oil, now a + volunteer bust (‘in marble’, as he would gently but proudly observe) of + some public character, now stooping his chisel to a mere ‘nymph’ for a + gasbracket on a stair, sir’, or a life-size ‘Infant Samuel’ for a + religious nursery. Mr Pitman had studied in Paris, and he had studied in + Rome, supplied with funds by a fond parent who went subsequently bankrupt + in consequence of a fall in corsets; and though he was never thought to + have the smallest modicum of talent, it was at one time supposed that he + had learned his business. Eighteen years of what is called ‘tuition’ had + relieved him of the dangerous knowledge. His artist lodgers would + sometimes reason with him; they would point out to him how impossible it + was to paint by gaslight, or to sculpture life-sized nymphs without a + model. + </p> + <p> + ‘I know that,’ he would reply. ‘No one in Norfolk Street knows it better; + and if I were rich I should certainly employ the best models in London; + but, being poor, I have taught myself to do without them. An occasional + model would only disturb my ideal conception of the figure, and be a + positive impediment in my career. As for painting by an artificial light,’ + he would continue, ‘that is simply a knack I have found it necessary to + acquire, my days being engrossed in the work of tuition.’ + </p> + <p> + At the moment when we must present him to our readers, Pitman was in his + studio alone, by the dying light of the October day. He sat (sure enough + with ‘unaffected simplicity’) in a Windsor chair, his low-crowned black + felt hat by his side; a dark, weak, harmless, pathetic little man, clad in + the hue of mourning, his coat longer than is usual with the laity, his + neck enclosed in a collar without a parting, his neckcloth pale in hue and + simply tied; the whole outward man, except for a pointed beard, + tentatively clerical. There was a thinning on the top of Pitman’s head, + there were silver hairs at Pitman’s temple. Poor gentleman, he was no + longer young; and years, and poverty, and humble ambition thwarted, make a + cheerless lot. + </p> + <p> + In front of him, in the corner by the door, there stood a portly barrel; + and let him turn them where he might, it was always to the barrel that his + eyes and his thoughts returned. + </p> + <p> + ‘Should I open it? Should I return it? Should I communicate with Mr + Sernitopolis at once?’ he wondered. ‘No,’ he concluded finally, ‘nothing + without Mr Finsbury’s advice.’ And he arose and produced a shabby leathern + desk. It opened without the formality of unlocking, and displayed the + thick cream-coloured notepaper on which Mr Pitman was in the habit of + communicating with the proprietors of schools and the parents of his + pupils. He placed the desk on the table by the window, and taking a saucer + of Indian ink from the chimney-piece, laboriously composed the following + letter: + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear Mr Finsbury,’ it ran, ‘would it be presuming on your kindness if + I asked you to pay me a visit here this evening? It is in no trifling + matter that I invoke your valuable assistance, for need I say more than it + concerns the welfare of Mr Semitopolis’s statue of Hercules? I write you + in great agitation of mind; for I have made all enquiries, and greatly + fear that this work of ancient art has been mislaid. I labour besides + under another perplexity, not unconnected with the first. Pray excuse the + inelegance of this scrawl, and believe me yours in haste, William D. + Pitman.’ + </p> + <p> + Armed with this he set forth and rang the bell of No. 233 King’s Road, the + private residence of Michael Finsbury. He had met the lawyer at a time of + great public excitement in Chelsea; Michael, who had a sense of humour and + a great deal of careless kindness in his nature, followed the acquaintance + up, and, having come to laugh, remained to drop into a contemptuous kind + of friendship. By this time, which was four years after the first meeting, + Pitman was the lawyer’s dog. + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ said the elderly housekeeper, who opened the door in person, ‘Mr + Michael’s not in yet. But ye’re looking terribly poorly, Mr Pitman. Take a + glass of sherry, sir, to cheer ye up.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, I thank you, ma’am,’ replied the artist. ‘It is very good in you, but + I scarcely feel in sufficient spirits for sherry. Just give Mr Finsbury + this note, and ask him to look round—to the door in the lane, you + will please tell him; I shall be in the studio all evening.’ + </p> + <p> + And he turned again into the street and walked slowly homeward. A + hairdresser’s window caught his attention, and he stared long and + earnestly at the proud, high—born, waxen lady in evening dress, who + circulated in the centre of the show. The artist woke in him, in spite of + his troubles. + </p> + <p> + ‘It is all very well to run down the men who make these things,’ he cried, + ‘but there’s a something—there’s a haughty, indefinable something + about that figure. It’s what I tried for in my “Empress Eugenie”,’ he + added, with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + And he went home reflecting on the quality. ‘They don’t teach you that + direct appeal in Paris,’ he thought. ‘It’s British. Come, I am going to + sleep, I must wake up, I must aim higher—aim higher,’ cried the + little artist to himself. All through his tea and afterward, as he was + giving his eldest boy a lesson on the fiddle, his mind dwelt no longer on + his troubles, but he was rapt into the better land; and no sooner was he + at liberty than he hastened with positive exhilaration to his studio. + </p> + <p> + Not even the sight of the barrel could entirely cast him down. He flung + himself with rising zest into his work—a bust of Mr Gladstone from a + photograph; turned (with extraordinary success) the difficulty of the back + of the head, for which he had no documents beyond a hazy recollection of a + public meeting; delighted himself by his treatment of the collar; and was + only recalled to the cares of life by Michael Finsbury’s rattle at the + door. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, what’s wrong?’ said Michael, advancing to the grate, where, knowing + his friend’s delight in a bright fire, Mr Pitman had not spared the fuel. + ‘I suppose you have come to grief somehow.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There is no expression strong enough,’ said the artist. ‘Mr Semitopolis’s + statue has not turned up, and I am afraid I shall be answerable for the + money; but I think nothing of that—what I fear, my dear Mr Finsbury, + what I fear—alas that I should have to say it! is exposure. The + Hercules was to be smuggled out of Italy; a thing positively wrong, a + thing of which a man of my principles and in my responsible position + should have taken (as I now see too late) no part whatever.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘This sounds like very serious work,’ said the lawyer. ‘It will require a + great deal of drink, Pitman.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I took the liberty of—in short, of being prepared for you,’ replied + the artist, pointing to a kettle, a bottle of gin, a lemon, and glasses. + Michael mixed himself a grog, and offered the artist a cigar. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, thank you,’ said Pitman. ‘I used occasionally to be rather partial to + it, but the smell is so disagreeable about the clothes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘All right,’ said the lawyer. ‘I am comfortable now. Unfold your tale.’ + </p> + <p> + At some length Pitman set forth his sorrows. He had gone today to + Waterloo, expecting to receive the colossal Hercules, and he had received + instead a barrel not big enough to hold Discobolus; yet the barrel was + addressed in the hand (with which he was perfectly acquainted) of his + Roman correspondent. What was stranger still, a case had arrived by the + same train, large enough and heavy enough to contain the Hercules; and + this case had been taken to an address now undiscoverable. ‘The vanman (I + regret to say it) had been drinking, and his language was such as I could + never bring myself to repeat. + </p> + <p> + He was at once discharged by the superintendent of the line, who behaved + most properly throughout, and is to make enquiries at Southampton. In the + meanwhile, what was I to do? I left my address and brought the barrel + home; but, remembering an old adage, I determined not to open it except in + the presence of my lawyer.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Is that all?’ asked Michael. ‘I don’t see any cause to worry. The + Hercules has stuck upon the road. It will drop in tomorrow or the day + after; and as for the barrel, depend upon it, it’s a testimonial from one + of your young ladies, and probably contains oysters.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, don’t speak so loud!’ cried the little artist. ‘It would cost me my + place if I were heard to speak lightly of the young ladies; and besides, + why oysters from Italy? and why should they come to me addressed in Signor + Ricardi’s hand?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, let’s have a look at it,’ said Michael. ‘Let’s roll it forward to + the light.’ + </p> + <p> + The two men rolled the barrel from the corner, and stood it on end before + the fire. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s heavy enough to be oysters,’ remarked Michael judiciously. + </p> + <p> + ‘Shall we open it at once?’ enquired the artist, who had grown decidedly + cheerful under the combined effects of company and gin; and without + waiting for a reply, he began to strip as if for a prize-fight, tossed his + clerical collar in the wastepaper basket, hung his clerical coat upon a + nail, and with a chisel in one hand and a hammer in the other, struck the + first blow of the evening. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s the style, William Dent’ cried Michael. ‘There’s fire for—your + money! It may be a romantic visit from one of the young ladies—a + sort of Cleopatra business. Have a care and don’t stave in Cleopatra’s + head.’ + </p> + <p> + But the sight of Pitman’s alacrity was infectious. The lawyer could sit + still no longer. Tossing his cigar into the fire, he snatched the + instrument from the unwilling hands of the artist, and fell to himself. + Soon the sweat stood in beads upon his large, fair brow; his stylish + trousers were defaced with iron rust, and the state of his chisel + testified to misdirected energies. + </p> + <p> + A cask is not an easy thing to open, even when you set about it in the + right way; when you set about it wrongly, the whole structure must be + resolved into its elements. Such was the course pursued alike by the + artist and the lawyer. Presently the last hoop had been removed—a + couple of smart blows tumbled the staves upon the ground—and what + had once been a barrel was no more than a confused heap of broken and + distorted boards. + </p> + <p> + In the midst of these, a certain dismal something, swathed in blankets, + remained for an instant upright, and then toppled to one side and heavily + collapsed before the fire. Even as the thing subsided, an eye-glass + tingled to the floor and rolled toward the screaming Pitman. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hold your tongue!’ said Michael. He dashed to the house door and locked + it; then, with a pale face and bitten lip, he drew near, pulled aside a + corner of the swathing blanket, and recoiled, shuddering. There was a long + silence in the studio. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now tell me,’ said Michael, in a low voice: ‘Had you any hand in it?’ and + he pointed to the body. + </p> + <p> + The little artist could only utter broken and disjointed sounds. + </p> + <p> + Michael poured some gin into a glass. ‘Drink that,’ he said. ‘Don’t be + afraid of me. I’m your friend through thick and thin.’ + </p> + <p> + Pitman put the liquor down untasted. + </p> + <p> + ‘I swear before God,’ he said, ‘this is another mystery to me. In my worst + fears I never dreamed of such a thing. I would not lay a finger on a + sucking infant.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s all square,’ said Michael, with a sigh of huge relief. ‘I believe + you, old boy.’ And he shook the artist warmly by the hand. ‘I thought for + a moment,’ he added with rather a ghastly smile, ‘I thought for a moment + you might have made away with Mr Semitopolis.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It would make no difference if I had,’ groaned Pitman. ‘All is at an end + for me. There’s the writing on the wall.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To begin with,’ said Michael, ‘let’s get him out of sight; for to be + quite plain with you, Pitman, I don’t like your friend’s appearance.’ And + with that the lawyer shuddered. ‘Where can we put it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You might put it in the closet there—if you could bear to touch + it,’ answered the artist. + </p> + <p> + ‘Somebody has to do it, Pitman,’ returned the lawyer; ‘and it seems as if + it had to be me. You go over to the table, turn your back, and mix me a + grog; that’s a fair division of labour.’ + </p> + <p> + About ninety seconds later the closet-door was heard to shut. + </p> + <p> + ‘There,’ observed Michael, ‘that’s more homelike. You can turn now, my + pallid Pitman. Is this the grog?’ he ran on. ‘Heaven forgive you, it’s a + lemonade.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But, O, Finsbury, what are we to do with it?’ walled the artist, laying a + clutching hand upon the lawyer’s arm. + </p> + <p> + ‘Do with it?’ repeated Michael. ‘Bury it in one of your flowerbeds, and + erect one of your own statues for a monument. I tell you we should look + devilish romantic shovelling out the sod by the moon’s pale ray. Here, put + some gin in this.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I beg of you, Mr Finsbury, do not trifle with my misery,’ cried Pitman. + ‘You see before you a man who has been all his life—I do not + hesitate to say it—imminently respectable. Even in this solemn hour + I can lay my hand upon my heart without a blush. Except on the really + trifling point of the smuggling of the Hercules (and even of that I now + humbly repent), my life has been entirely fit for publication. I never + feared the light,’ cried the little man; ‘and now—now—!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Cheer up, old boy,’ said Michael. ‘I assure you we should count this + little contretemps a trifle at the office; it’s the sort of thing that may + occur to any one; and if you’re perfectly sure you had no hand in it—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What language am I to find—’ began Pitman. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, I’ll do that part of it,’ interrupted Michael, ‘you have no + experience.’ But the point is this: If—or rather since—you + know nothing of the crime, since the—the party in the closet—is + neither your father, nor your brother, nor your creditor, nor your + mother-in-law, nor what they call an injured husband—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, my dear sir!’ interjected Pitman, horrified. + </p> + <p> + ‘Since, in short,’ continued the lawyer, ‘you had no possible interest in + the crime, we have a perfectly free field before us and a safe game to + play. Indeed, the problem is really entertaining; it is one I have long + contemplated in the light of an A. B. case; here it is at last under my + hand in specie; and I mean to pull you through. Do you hear that?—I + mean to pull you through. Let me see: it’s a long time since I have had + what I call a genuine holiday; I’ll send an excuse tomorrow to the office. + We had best be lively,’ he added significantly; ‘for we must not spoil the + market for the other man.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What do you mean?’ enquired Pitman. ‘What other man? The inspector of + police?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Damn the inspector of police!’ remarked his companion. ‘If you won’t take + the short cut and bury this in your back garden, we must find some one who + will bury it in his. We must place the affair, in short, in the hands of + some one with fewer scruples and more resources.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A private detective, perhaps?’ suggested Pitman. + </p> + <p> + ‘There are times when you fill me with pity,’ observed the lawyer. ‘By the + way, Pitman,’ he added in another key, ‘I have always regretted that you + have no piano in this den of yours. Even if you don’t play yourself, your + friends might like to entertain themselves with a little music while you + were mudding.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall get one at once if you like,’ said Pitman nervously, anxious to + please. ‘I play the fiddle a little as it is.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I know you do,’ said Michael; ‘but what’s the fiddle—above all as + you play it? What you want is polyphonic music. And I’ll tell you what it + is—since it’s too late for you to buy a piano I’ll give you mine.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Thank you,’ said the artist blankly. ‘You will give me yours? I am sure + it’s very good in you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, I’ll give you mine,’ continued Michael, ‘for the inspector of police + to play on while his men are digging up your back garden.’ Pitman stared + at him in pained amazement. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, I’m not insane,’ Michael went on. ‘I’m playful, but quite coherent. + See here, Pitman: follow me one half minute. I mean to profit by the + refreshing fact that we are really and truly innocent; nothing but the + presence of the—you know what—connects us with the crime; once + let us get rid of it, no matter how, and there is no possible clue to + trace us by. Well, I give you my piano; we’ll bring it round this very + night. Tomorrow we rip the fittings out, deposit the—our friend—inside, + plump the whole on a cart, and carry it to the chambers of a young + gentleman whom I know by sight.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Whom do you know by sight?’ repeated Pitman. + </p> + <p> + ‘And what is more to the purpose,’ continued Michael, ‘whose chambers I + know better than he does himself. A friend of mine—I call him my + friend for brevity; he is now, I understand, in Demerara and (most likely) + in gaol—was the previous occupant. I defended him, and I got him off + too—all saved but honour; his assets were nil, but he gave me what + he had, poor gentleman, and along with the rest—the key of his + chambers. It’s there that I propose to leave the piano and, shall we say, + Cleopatra?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It seems very wild,’ said Pitman. ‘And what will become of the poor young + gentleman whom you know by sight?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It will do him good,’—said Michael cheerily. ‘Just what he wants to + steady him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But, my dear sir, he might be involved in a charge of—a charge of + murder,’ gulped the artist. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, he’ll be just where we are,’ returned the lawyer. ‘He’s innocent, + you see. What hangs people, my dear Pitman, is the unfortunate + circumstance of guilt.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But indeed, indeed,’ pleaded Pitman, ‘the whole scheme appears to me so + wild. Would it not be safer, after all, just to send for the police?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And make a scandal?’ enquired Michael. ‘“The Chelsea Mystery; alleged + innocence of Pitman”? How would that do at the Seminary?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It would imply my discharge,’ admitted the drawing—master. ‘I + cannot deny that.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And besides,’ said Michael, ‘I am not going to embark in such a business + and have no fun for my money.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O my dear sir, is that a proper spirit?’ cried Pitman. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, I only said that to cheer you up,’ said the unabashed Michael. + ‘Nothing like a little judicious levity. But it’s quite needless to + discuss. If you mean to follow my advice, come on, and let us get the + piano at once. If you don’t, just drop me the word, and I’ll leave you to + deal with the whole thing according to your better judgement.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You know perfectly well that I depend on you entirely,’ returned Pitman. + ‘But O, what a night is before me with that—horror in my studio! How + am I to think of it on my pillow?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, you know, my piano will be there too,’ said Michael. ‘That’ll raise + the average.’ + </p> + <p> + An hour later a cart came up the lane, and the lawyer’s piano—a + momentous Broadwood grand—was deposited in Mr Pitman’s studio. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. In Which Michael Finsbury Enjoys a Holiday + </h2> + <p> + Punctually at eight o’clock next morning the lawyer rattled (according to + previous appointment) on the studio door. He found the artist sadly + altered for the worse—bleached, bloodshot, and chalky—a man + upon wires, the tail of his haggard eye still wandering to the closet. Nor + was the professor of drawing less inclined to wonder at his friend. + Michael was usually attired in the height of fashion, with a certain + mercantile brilliancy best described perhaps as stylish; nor could + anything be said against him, as a rule, but that he looked a trifle too + like a wedding guest to be quite a gentleman. Today he had fallen + altogether from these heights. He wore a flannel shirt of washed-out + shepherd’s tartan, and a suit of reddish tweeds, of the colour known to + tailors as ‘heather mixture’; his neckcloth was black, and tied loosely in + a sailor’s knot; a rusty ulster partly concealed these advantages; and his + feet were shod with rough walking boots. His hat was an old soft felt, + which he removed with a flourish as he entered. + </p> + <p> + ‘Here I am, William Dent!’ he cried, and drawing from his pocket two + little wisps of reddish hair, he held them to his cheeks like sidewhiskers + and danced about the studio with the filmy graces of a ballet-girl. + </p> + <p> + Pitman laughed sadly. ‘I should never have known you,’ said he. + </p> + <p> + ‘Nor were you intended to,’ returned Michael, replacing his false whiskers + in his pocket. ‘Now we must overhaul you and your wardrobe, and disguise + you up to the nines.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Disguise!’ cried the artist. ‘Must I indeed disguise myself. Has it come + to that?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear creature,’ returned his companion, ‘disguise is the spice of + life. What is life, passionately exclaimed a French philosopher, without + the pleasures of disguise? I don’t say it’s always good taste, and I know + it’s unprofessional; but what’s the odds, downhearted drawing-master? It + has to be. We have to leave a false impression on the minds of many + persons, and in particular on the mind of Mr Gideon Forsyth—the + young gentleman I know by sight—if he should have the bad taste to + be at home.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If he be at home?’ faltered the artist. ‘That would be the end of all.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Won’t matter a d—,’ returned Michael airily. ‘Let me see your + clothes, and I’ll make a new man of you in a jiffy.’ + </p> + <p> + In the bedroom, to which he was at once conducted, Michael examined + Pitman’s poor and scanty wardrobe with a humorous eye, picked out a short + jacket of black alpaca, and presently added to that a pair of summer + trousers which somehow took his fancy as incongruous. Then, with the + garments in his hand, he scrutinized the artist closely. + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t like that clerical collar,’ he remarked. ‘Have you nothing else?’ + </p> + <p> + The professor of drawing pondered for a moment, and then brightened; ‘I + have a pair of low-necked shirts,’ he said, ‘that I used to wear in Paris + as a student. They are rather loud.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The very thing!’ ejaculated Michael. ‘You’ll look perfectly beastly. Here + are spats, too,’ he continued, drawing forth a pair of those offensive + little gaiters. ‘Must have spats! And now you jump into these, and whistle + a tune at the window for (say) three-quarters of an hour. After that you + can rejoin me on the field of glory.’ + </p> + <p> + So saying, Michael returned to the studio. It was the morning of the + easterly gale; the wind blew shrilly among the statues in the garden, and + drove the rain upon the skylight in the studio ceiling; and at about the + same moment of the time when Morris attacked the hundredth version of his + uncle’s signature in Bloomsbury, Michael, in Chelsea, began to rip the + wires out of the Broadwood grand. + </p> + <p> + Three-quarters of an hour later Pitman was admitted, to find the + closet-door standing open, the closet untenanted, and the piano discreetly + shut. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s a remarkably heavy instrument,’ observed Michael, and turned to + consider his friend’s disguise. ‘You must shave off that beard of yours,’ + he said. + </p> + <p> + ‘My beard!’ cried Pitman. ‘I cannot shave my beard. I cannot tamper with + my appearance—my principals would object. They hold very strong + views as to the appearance of the professors—young ladies are + considered so romantic. My beard was regarded as quite a feature when I + went about the place. It was regarded,’ said the artist, with rising + colour, ‘it was regarded as unbecoming.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You can let it grow again,’ returned Michael, ‘and then you’ll be so + precious ugly that they’ll raise your salary.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But I don’t want to be ugly,’ cried the artist. + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t be an ass,’ said Michael, who hated beards and was delighted to + destroy one. ‘Off with it like a man!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Of course, if you insist,’ said Pitman; and then he sighed, fetched some + hot water from the kitchen, and setting a glass upon his easel, first + clipped his beard with scissors and then shaved his chin. He could not + conceal from himself, as he regarded the result, that his last claims to + manhood had been sacrificed, but Michael seemed delighted. + </p> + <p> + ‘A new man, I declare!’ he cried. ‘When I give you the windowglass + spectacles I have in my pocket, you’ll be the beau-ideal of a French + commercial traveller.’ + </p> + <p> + Pitman did not reply, but continued to gaze disconsolately on his image in + the glass. + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you know,’ asked Michael, ‘what the Governor of South Carolina said to + the Governor of North Carolina? “It’s a long time between drinks,” + observed that powerful thinker; and if you will put your hand into the top + left-hand pocket of my ulster, I have an impression you will find a flask + of brandy. Thank you, Pitman,’ he added, as he filled out a glass for + each. ‘Now you will give me news of this.’ + </p> + <p> + The artist reached out his hand for the water-jug, but Michael arrested + the movement. + </p> + <p> + ‘Not if you went upon your knees!’ he cried. ‘This is the finest liqueur + brandy in Great Britain.’ + </p> + <p> + Pitman put his lips to it, set it down again, and sighed. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, I must say you’re the poorest companion for a holiday!’ cried + Michael. ‘If that’s all you know of brandy, you shall have no more of it; + and while I finish the flask, you may as well begin business. Come to + think of it,’ he broke off, ‘I have made an abominable error: you should + have ordered the cart before you were disguised. Why, Pitman, what the + devil’s the use of you? why couldn’t you have reminded me of that?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I never even knew there was a cart to be ordered,’ said the artist. ‘But + I can take off the disguise again,’ he suggested eagerly. + </p> + <p> + ‘You would find it rather a bother to put on your beard,’ observed the + lawyer. ‘No, it’s a false step; the sort of thing that hangs people,’ he + continued, with eminent cheerfulness, as he sipped his brandy; ‘and it + can’t be retraced now. Off to the mews with you, make all the + arrangements; they’re to take the piano from here, cart it to Victoria, + and dispatch it thence by rail to Cannon Street, to lie till called for in + the name of Fortune du Boisgobey.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Isn’t that rather an awkward name?’ pleaded Pitman. + </p> + <p> + ‘Awkward?’ cried Michael scornfully. ‘It would hang us both! Brown is both + safer and easier to pronounce. Call it Brown.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I wish,’ said Pitman, ‘for my sake, I wish you wouldn’t talk so much of + hanging.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Talking about it’s nothing, my boy!’ returned Michael. ‘But take your hat + and be off, and mind and pay everything beforehand.’ + </p> + <p> + Left to himself, the lawyer turned his attention for some time exclusively + to the liqueur brandy, and his spirits, which had been pretty fair all + morning, now prodigiously rose. He proceeded to adjust his whiskers + finally before the glass. ‘Devilish rich,’ he remarked, as he contemplated + his reflection. ‘I look like a purser’s mate.’ And at that moment the + window-glass spectacles (which he had hitherto destined for Pitman) + flashed into his mind; he put them on, and fell in love with the effect. + ‘Just what I required,’ he said. ‘I wonder what I look like now? A + humorous novelist, I should think,’ and he began to practise divers + characters of walk, naming them to himself as—he proceeded. ‘Walk of + a humorous novelist—but that would require an umbrella. Walk of a + purser’s mate. Walk of an Australian colonist revisiting the scenes of + childhood. Walk of Sepoy colonel, ditto, ditto. And in the midst of the + Sepoy colonel (which was an excellent assumption, although inconsistent + with the style of his make-up), his eye lighted on the piano. This + instrument was made to lock both at the top and at the keyboard, but the + key of the latter had been mislaid. Michael opened it and ran his fingers + over the dumb keys. ‘Fine instrument—full, rich tone,’ he observed, + and he drew in a seat. + </p> + <p> + When Mr Pitman returned to the studio, he was appalled to observe his + guide, philosopher, and friend performing miracles of execution on the + silent grand. + </p> + <p> + ‘Heaven help me!’ thought the little man, ‘I fear he has been drinking! Mr + Finsbury,’ he said aloud; and Michael, without rising, turned upon him a + countenance somewhat flushed, encircled with the bush of the red whiskers, + and bestridden by the spectacles. ‘Capriccio in B-flat on the departure of + a friend,’ said he, continuing his noiseless evolutions. + </p> + <p> + Indignation awoke in the mind of Pitman. ‘Those spectacles were to be + mine,’ he cried. ‘They are an essential part of my disguise.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am going to wear them myself,’ replied Michael; and he added, with some + show of truth, ‘There would be a devil of a lot of suspicion aroused if we + both wore spectacles.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, well,’ said the assenting Pitman, ‘I rather counted on them; but of + course, if you insist. And at any rate, here is the cart at the door.’ + </p> + <p> + While the men were at work, Michael concealed himself in the closet among + the debris of the barrel and the wires of the piano; and as soon as the + coast was clear the pair sallied forth by the lane, jumped into a hansom + in the King’s Road, and were driven rapidly toward town. It was still cold + and raw and boisterous; the rain beat strongly in their faces, but Michael + refused to have the glass let down; he had now suddenly donned the + character of cicerone, and pointed out and lucidly commented on the sights + of London, as they drove. ‘My dear fellow,’ he said, ‘you don’t seem to + know anything of your native city. Suppose we visited the Tower? No? Well, + perhaps it’s a trifle out of our way. But, anyway—Here, cabby, drive + round by Trafalgar Square!’ And on that historic battlefield he insisted + on drawing up, while he criticized the statues and gave the artist many + curious details (quite new to history) of the lives of the celebrated men + they represented. + </p> + <p> + It would be difficult to express what Pitman suffered in the cab: cold, + wet, terror in the capital degree, a grounded distrust of the commander + under whom he served, a sense of imprudency in the matter of the + low-necked shirt, a bitter sense of the decline and fall involved in the + deprivation of his beard, all these were among the ingredients of the + bowl. To reach the restaurant, for which they were deviously steering, was + the first relief. To hear Michael bespeak a private room was a second and + a still greater. Nor, as they mounted the stair under the guidance of an + unintelligible alien, did he fail to note with gratitude the fewness of + the persons present, or the still more cheering fact that the greater part + of these were exiles from the land of France. It was thus a blessed + thought that none of them would be connected with the Seminary; for even + the French professor, though admittedly a Papist, he could scarce imagine + frequenting so rakish an establishment. + </p> + <p> + The alien introduced them into a small bare room with a single table, a + sofa, and a dwarfish fire; and Michael called promptly for more coals and + a couple of brandies and sodas. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, no,’ said Pitman, ‘surely not—no more to drink.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know what you would be at,’ said Michael plaintively. ‘It’s + positively necessary to do something; and one shouldn’t smoke before meals. I thought that was understood. You seem to have no idea of hygiene.’ And + he compared his watch with the clock upon the chimney-piece. + </p> + <p> + Pitman fell into bitter musing; here he was, ridiculously shorn, absurdly + disguised, in the company of a drunken man in spectacles, and waiting for + a champagne luncheon in a restaurant painfully foreign. What would his + principals think, if they could see him? What if they knew his tragic and + deceitful errand? + </p> + <p> + From these reflections he was aroused by the entrance of the alien with + the brandies and sodas. Michael took one and bade the waiter pass the + other to his friend. + </p> + <p> + Pitman waved it from him with his hand. ‘Don’t let me lose all + self-respect,’ he said. + </p> + <p> + ‘Anything to oblige a friend,’ returned Michael. ‘But I’m not going to + drink alone. Here,’ he added to the waiter, ‘you take it.’ And, then, + touching glasses, ‘The health of Mr Gideon Forsyth,’ said he. + </p> + <p> + ‘Meestare Gidden Borsye,’ replied the waiter, and he tossed off the liquor + in four gulps. + </p> + <p> + ‘Have another?’ said Michael, with undisguised interest. ‘I never saw a + man drink faster. It restores one’s confidence in the human race. + </p> + <p> + But the waiter excused himself politely, and, assisted by some one from + without, began to bring in lunch. + </p> + <p> + Michael made an excellent meal, which he washed down with a bottle of + Heidsieck’s dry monopole. As for the artist, he was far too uneasy to eat, + and his companion flatly refused to let him share in the champagne unless + he did. + </p> + <p> + ‘One of us must stay sober,’ remarked the lawyer, ‘and I won’t give you + champagne on the strength of a leg of grouse. I have to be cautious,’ he + added confidentially. ‘One drunken man, excellent business—two + drunken men, all my eye.’ + </p> + <p> + On the production of coffee and departure of the waiter, Michael might + have been observed to make portentous efforts after gravity of mien. He + looked his friend in the face (one eye perhaps a trifle off), and + addressed him thickly but severely. + </p> + <p> + ‘Enough of this fooling,’ was his not inappropriate exordium. ‘To + business. Mark me closely. I am an Australian. My name is John Dickson, + though you mightn’t think it from my unassuming appearance. You will be + relieved to hear that I am rich, sir, very rich. You can’t go into this + sort of thing too thoroughly, Pitman; the whole secret is preparation, and + I can get up my biography from the beginning, and I could tell it you now, + only I have forgotten it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Perhaps I’m stupid—’ began Pitman. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s it!’ cried Michael. ‘Very stupid; but rich too—richer than I + am. I thought you would enjoy it, Pitman, so I’ve arranged that you were + to be literally wallowing in wealth. But then, on the other hand, you’re + only an American, and a maker of india-rubber overshoes at that. And the + worst of it is—why should I conceal it from you?—the worst of + it is that you’re called Ezra Thomas. Now,’ said Michael, with a really + appalling seriousness of manner, ‘tell me who we are.’ + </p> + <p> + The unfortunate little man was cross-examined till he knew these facts by + heart. + </p> + <p> + ‘There!’ cried the lawyer. ‘Our plans are laid. Thoroughly consistent—that’s + the great thing.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But I don’t understand,’ objected Pitman. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, you’ll understand right enough when it comes to the point,’ said + Michael, rising. + </p> + <p> + ‘There doesn’t seem any story to it,’ said the artist. + </p> + <p> + ‘We can invent one as we go along,’ returned the lawyer. + </p> + <p> + ‘But I can’t invent,’ protested Pitman. ‘I never could invent in all my + life.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You’ll find you’ll have to, my boy,’ was Michael’s easy comment, and he + began calling for the waiter, with whom he at once resumed a sparkling + conversation. + </p> + <p> + It was a downcast little man that followed him. ‘Of course he is very + clever, but can I trust him in such a state?’ he asked himself. And when + they were once more in a hansom, he took heart of grace. + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t you think,’ he faltered, ‘it would be wiser, considering all + things, to put this business off?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Put off till tomorrow what can be done today?’ cried Michael, with + indignation. ‘Never heard of such a thing! Cheer up, it’s all right, go in + and win—there’s a lion-hearted Pitman!’ + </p> + <p> + At Cannon Street they enquired for Mr Brown’s piano, which had duly + arrived, drove thence to a neighbouring mews, where they contracted for a + cart, and while that was being got ready, took shelter in the harness-room + beside the stove. Here the lawyer presently toppled against the wall and + fell into a gentle slumber; so that Pitman found himself launched on his + own resources in the midst of several staring loafers, such as love to + spend unprofitable days about a stable. ‘Rough day, sir,’ observed one. + ‘Do you go far?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, it’s a—rather a rough day,’ said the artist; and then, feeling + that he must change the conversation, ‘My friend is an Australian; he is + very impulsive,’ he added. + </p> + <p> + ‘An Australian?’ said another. ‘I’ve a brother myself in Melbourne. Does + your friend come from that way at all?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, not exactly,’ replied the artist, whose ideas of the geography of New + Holland were a little scattered. ‘He lives immensely far inland, and is + very rich.’ + </p> + <p> + The loafers gazed with great respect upon the slumbering colonist. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ remarked the second speaker, ‘it’s a mighty big place, is + Australia. Do you come from thereaway too?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, I do not,’ said Pitman. ‘I do not, and I don’t want to,’ he added + irritably. And then, feeling some diversion needful, he fell upon Michael + and shook him up. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hullo,’ said the lawyer, ‘what’s wrong?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The cart is nearly ready,’ said Pitman sternly. ‘I will not allow you to + sleep.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘All right—no offence, old man,’ replied Michael, yawning. ‘A little + sleep never did anybody any harm; I feel comparatively sober now. But + what’s all the hurry?’ he added, looking round him glassily. ‘I don’t see + the cart, and I’ve forgotten where we left the piano.’ + </p> + <p> + What more the lawyer might have said, in the confidence of the moment, is + with Pitman a matter of tremulous conjecture to this day; but by the most + blessed circumstance the cart was then announced, and Michael must bend + the forces of his mind to the more difficult task of rising. + </p> + <p> + ‘Of course you’ll drive,’ he remarked to his companion, as he clambered on + the vehicle. + </p> + <p> + ‘I drive!’ cried Pitman. ‘I never did such a thing in my life. I cannot + drive.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Very well,’ responded Michael with entire composure, ‘neither can I see. + But just as you like. Anything to oblige a friend.’ + </p> + <p> + A glimpse of the ostler’s darkening countenance decided Pitman. ‘All + right,’ he said desperately, ‘you drive. I’ll tell you where to go.’ + </p> + <p> + On Michael in the character of charioteer (since this is not intended to + be a novel of adventure) it would be superfluous to dwell at length. + Pitman, as he sat holding on and gasping counsels, sole witness of this + singular feat, knew not whether most to admire the driver’s valour or his + undeserved good fortune. But the latter at least prevailed, the cart + reached Cannon Street without disaster; and Mr Brown’s piano was speedily + and cleverly got on board. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, sir,’ said the leading porter, smiling as he mentally reckoned up a + handful of loose silver, ‘that’s a mortal heavy piano.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s the richness of the tone,’ returned Michael, as he drove away. + </p> + <p> + It was but a little distance in the rain, which now fell thick and quiet, + to the neighbourhood of Mr Gideon Forsyth’s chambers in the Temple. There, + in a deserted by-street, Michael drew up the horses and gave them in + charge to a blighted shoe-black; and the pair descending from the cart, + whereon they had figured so incongruously, set forth on foot for the + decisive scene of their adventure. For the first time Michael displayed a + shadow of uneasiness. + </p> + <p> + ‘Are my whiskers right?’ he asked. ‘It would be the devil and all if I was + spotted.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘They are perfectly in their place,’ returned Pitman, with scant + attention. ‘But is my disguise equally effective? There is nothing more + likely than that I should meet some of my patrons.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, nobody could tell you without your beard,’ said Michael. ‘All you have + to do is to remember to speak slow; you speak through your nose already.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I only hope the young man won’t be at home,’ sighed Pitman. + </p> + <p> + ‘And I only hope he’ll be alone,’ returned the lawyer. ‘It will save a + precious sight of manoeuvring.’ + </p> + <p> + And sure enough, when they had knocked at the door, Gideon admitted them + in person to a room, warmed by a moderate fire, framed nearly to the roof + in works connected with the bench of British Themis, and offering, except + in one particular, eloquent testimony to the legal zeal of the proprietor. + The one particular was the chimney-piece, which displayed a varied + assortment of pipes, tobacco, cigar-boxes, and yellow-backed French + novels. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mr Forsyth, I believe?’ It was Michael who thus opened the engagement. + ‘We have come to trouble you with a piece of business. I fear it’s + scarcely professional—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am afraid I ought to be instructed through a solicitor,’ replied + Gideon. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, well, you shall name your own, and the whole affair can be put on a + more regular footing tomorrow,’ replied Michael, taking a chair and + motioning Pitman to do the same. ‘But you see we didn’t know any + solicitors; we did happen to know of you, and time presses.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘May I enquire, gentlemen,’ asked Gideon, ‘to whom it was I am indebted + for a recommendation?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You may enquire,’ returned the lawyer, with a foolish laugh; ‘but I was + invited not to tell you—till the thing was done.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My uncle, no doubt,’ was the barrister’s conclusion. + </p> + <p> + ‘My name is John Dickson,’ continued Michael; ‘a pretty well-known name in + Ballarat; and my friend here is Mr Ezra Thomas, of the United States of + America, a wealthy manufacturer of india-rubber overshoes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Stop one moment till I make a note of that,’ said Gideon; any one might + have supposed he was an old practitioner. + </p> + <p> + ‘Perhaps you wouldn’t mind my smoking a cigar?’ asked Michael. He had + pulled himself together for the entrance; now again there began to settle + on his mind clouds of irresponsible humour and incipient slumber; and he + hoped (as so many have hoped in the like case) that a cigar would clear + him. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, certainly,’ cried Gideon blandly. ‘Try one of mine; I can confidently + recommend them.’ And he handed the box to his client. + </p> + <p> + ‘In case I don’t make myself perfectly clear,’ observed the Australian, + ‘it’s perhaps best to tell you candidly that I’ve been lunching. It’s a + thing that may happen to any one.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, certainly,’ replied the affable barrister. ‘But please be under no + sense of hurry. I can give you,’ he added, thoughtfully consulting his + watch—‘yes, I can give you the whole afternoon.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The business that brings me here,’ resumed the Australian with gusto, ‘is + devilish delicate, I can tell you. My friend Mr Thomas, being an American + of Portuguese extraction, unacquainted with our habits, and a wealthy + manufacturer of Broadwood pianos—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Broadwood pianos?’ cried Gideon, with some surprise. ‘Dear me, do I + understand Mr Thomas to be a member of the firm?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, pirated Broadwoods,’ returned Michael. ‘My friend’s the American + Broadwood.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But I understood you to say,’ objected Gideon, ‘I certainly have it so in + my notes—that your friend was a manufacturer of india—rubber + overshoes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I know it’s confusing at first,’ said the Australian, with a beaming + smile. ‘But he—in short, he combines the two professions. And many + others besides—many, many, many others,’ repeated Mr Dickson, with + drunken solemnity. ‘Mr Thomas’s cotton-mills are one of the sights of + Tallahassee; Mr Thomas’s tobacco-mills are the pride of Richmond, Va.; in + short, he’s one of my oldest friends, Mr Forsyth, and I lay his case + before you with emotion.’ + </p> + <p> + The barrister looked at Mr Thomas and was agreeably prepossessed by his + open although nervous countenance, and the simplicity and timidity of his + manner. ‘What a people are these Americans!’ he thought. ‘Look at this + nervous, weedy, simple little bird in a lownecked shirt, and think of him + wielding and directing interests so extended and seemingly incongruous! + ‘But had we not better,’ he observed aloud, ‘had we not perhaps better + approach the facts?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Man of business, I perceive, sir!’ said the Australian. ‘Let’s approach + the facts. It’s a breach of promise case.’ + </p> + <p> + The unhappy artist was so unprepared for this view of his position that he + could scarce suppress a cry. + </p> + <p> + ‘Dear me,’ said Gideon, ‘they are apt to be very troublesome. Tell me + everything about it,’ he added kindly; ‘if you require my assistance, + conceal nothing.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You tell him,’ said Michael, feeling, apparently, that he had done his + share. ‘My friend will tell you all about it,’ he added to Gideon, with a + yawn. ‘Excuse my closing my eyes a moment; I’ve been sitting up with a + sick friend.’ + </p> + <p> + Pitman gazed blankly about the room; rage and despair seethed in his + innocent spirit; thoughts of flight, thoughts even of suicide, came and + went before him; and still the barrister patiently waited, and still the + artist groped in vain for any form of words, however insignificant. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s a breach of promise case,’ he said at last, in a low voice. ‘I—I + am threatened with a breach of promise case.’ Here, in desperate quest of + inspiration, he made a clutch at his beard; his fingers closed upon the + unfamiliar smoothness of a shaven chin; and with that, hope and courage + (if such expressions could ever have been appropriate in the case of + Pitman) conjointly fled. He shook Michael roughly. ‘Wake up!’ he cried, + with genuine irritation in his tones. ‘I cannot do it, and you know I + can’t.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You must excuse my friend,’ said Michael; ‘he’s no hand as a narrator of + stirring incident. The case is simple,’ he went on. ‘My friend is a man of + very strong passions, and accustomed to a simple, patriarchal style of + life. You see the thing from here: unfortunate visit to Europe, followed + by unfortunate acquaintance with sham foreign count, who has a lovely + daughter. Mr Thomas was quite carried away; he proposed, he was accepted, + and he wrote—wrote in a style which I am sure he must regret today. + If these letters are produced in court, sir, Mr Thomas’s character is + gone.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Am I to understand—’ began Gideon. + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear sir,’ said the Australian emphatically, ‘it isn’t possible to + understand unless you saw them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That is a painful circumstance,’ said Gideon; he glanced pityingly in the + direction of the culprit, and, observing on his countenance every mark of + confusion, pityingly withdrew his eyes. + </p> + <p> + ‘And that would be nothing,’ continued Mr Dickson sternly, ‘but I wish—I + wish from my heart, sir, I could say that Mr Thomas’s hands were clean. He + has no excuse; for he was engaged at the time—and is still engaged—to + the belle of Constantinople, Ga. My friend’s conduct was unworthy of the + brutes that perish.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ga.?’ repeated Gideon enquiringly. + </p> + <p> + ‘A contraction in current use,’ said Michael. ‘Ga. for Georgia, in The + same way as Co. for Company.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I was aware it was sometimes so written,’ returned the barrister, ‘but + not that it was so pronounced.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Fact, I assure you,’ said Michael. ‘You now see for yourself, sir, that + if this unhappy person is to be saved, some devilish sharp practice will + be needed. There’s money, and no desire to spare it. Mr Thomas could write + a cheque tomorrow for a hundred thousand. And, Mr Forsyth, there’s better + than money. The foreign count—Count Tarnow, he calls himself—was + formerly a tobacconist in Bayswater, and passed under the humble but + expressive name of Schmidt; his daughter—if she is his daughter—there’s + another point—make a note of that, Mr Forsyth—his daughter at + that time actually served in the shop—and she now proposes to marry + a man of the eminence of Mr Thomas! Now do you see our game? We know they + contemplate a move; and we wish to forestall ‘em. Down you go to Hampton + Court, where they live, and threaten, or bribe, or both, until you get the + letters; if you can’t, God help us, we must go to court and Thomas must be + exposed. I’ll be done with him for one,’ added the unchivalrous friend. + </p> + <p> + ‘There seem some elements of success,’ said Gideon. ‘Was Schmidt at all + known to the police?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We hope so,’ said Michael. ‘We have every ground to think so. Mark the + neighbourhood—Bayswater! Doesn’t Bayswater occur to you as very + suggestive?’ + </p> + <p> + For perhaps the sixth time during this remarkable interview, Gideon + wondered if he were not becoming light-headed. ‘I suppose it’s just + because he has been lunching,’ he thought; and then added aloud, ‘To what + figure may I go?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Perhaps five thousand would be enough for today,’ said Michael. ‘And now, + sir, do not let me detain you any longer; the afternoon wears on; there + are plenty of trains to Hampton Court; and I needn’t try to describe to + you the impatience of my friend. Here is a five-pound note for current + expenses; and here is the address.’ And Michael began to write, paused, + tore up the paper, and put the pieces in his pocket. ‘I will dictate,’ he + said, ‘my writing is so uncertain.’ + </p> + <p> + Gideon took down the address, ‘Count Tarnow, Kurnaul Villa, Hampton + Court.’ Then he wrote something else on a sheet of paper. ‘You said you + had not chosen a solicitor,’ he said. ‘For a case of this sort, here is + the best man in London.’ And he handed the paper to Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘God bless me!’ ejaculated Michael, as he read his own address. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, I daresay you have seen his name connected with some rather painful + cases,’ said Gideon. ‘But he is himself a perfectly honest man, and his + capacity is recognized. And now, gentlemen, it only remains for me to ask + where I shall communicate with you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The Langham, of course,’ returned Michael. ‘Till tonight.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Till tonight,’ replied Gideon, smiling. ‘I suppose I may knock you up at + a late hour?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Any hour, any hour,’ cried the vanishing solicitor. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now there’s a young fellow with a head upon his shoulders,’ he said to + Pitman, as soon as they were in the street. + </p> + <p> + Pitman was indistinctly heard to murmur, ‘Perfect fool.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not a bit of him,’ returned Michael. ‘He knows who’s the best solicitor + in London, and it’s not every man can say the same. But, I say, didn’t I + pitch it in hot?’ + </p> + <p> + Pitman returned no answer. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hullo!’ said the lawyer, pausing, ‘what’s wrong with the long-suffering + Pitman?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You had no right to speak of me as you did,’ the artist broke out; ‘your + language was perfectly unjustifiable; you have wounded me deeply.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I never said a word about you,’ replied Michael. ‘I spoke of Ezra Thomas; + and do please remember that there’s no such party.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s just as hard to bear,’ said the artist. + </p> + <p> + But by this time they had reached the corner of the by-street; and there + was the faithful shoeblack, standing by the horses’ heads with a splendid + assumption of dignity; and there was the piano, figuring forlorn upon the + cart, while the rain beat upon its unprotected sides and trickled down its + elegantly varnished legs. + </p> + <p> + The shoeblack was again put in requisition to bring five or six strong + fellows from the neighbouring public-house; and the last battle of the + campaign opened. It is probable that Mr Gideon Forsyth had not yet taken + his seat in the train for Hampton Court, before Michael opened the door of + the chambers, and the grunting porters deposited the Broadwood grand in + the middle of the floor. + </p> + <p> + ‘And now,’ said the lawyer, after he had sent the men about their + business, ‘one more precaution. We must leave him the key of the piano, + and we must contrive that he shall find it. Let me see.’ And he built a + square tower of cigars upon the top of the instrument, and dropped the key + into the middle. + </p> + <p> + ‘Poor young man,’ said the artist, as they descended the stairs. + </p> + <p> + ‘He is in a devil of a position,’ assented Michael drily. ‘It’ll brace him + up.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And that reminds me,’ observed the excellent Pitman, ‘that I fear I + displayed a most ungrateful temper. I had no right, I see, to resent + expressions, wounding as they were, which were in no sense directed.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s all right,’ cried Michael, getting on the cart. ‘Not a word more, + Pitman. Very proper feeling on your part; no man of self-respect can stand + by and hear his alias insulted.’ + </p> + <p> + The rain had now ceased, Michael was fairly sober, the body had been + disposed of, and the friends were reconciled. The return to the mews was + therefore (in comparison with previous stages of the day’s adventures) + quite a holiday outing; and when they had returned the cart and walked + forth again from the stable-yard, unchallenged, and even unsuspected, + Pitman drew a deep breath of joy. ‘And now,’ he said, ‘we can go home.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Pitman,’ said the lawyer, stopping short, ‘your recklessness fills me + with concern. What! we have been wet through the greater part of the day, + and you propose, in cold blood, to go home! No, sir—hot Scotch.’ + </p> + <p> + And taking his friend’s arm he led him sternly towards the nearest + public-house. Nor was Pitman (I regret to say) wholly unwilling. Now that + peace was restored and the body gone, a certain innocent skittishness + began to appear in the manners of the artist; and when he touched his + steaming glass to Michael’s, he giggled aloud like a venturesome + schoolgirl at a picnic. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. Glorious Conclusion of Michael Finsbury’s Holiday + </h2> + <p> + I know Michael Finsbury personally; my business—I know the + awkwardness of having such a man for a lawyer—still it’s an old + story now, and there is such a thing as gratitude, and, in short, my legal + business, although now (I am thankful to say) of quite a placid character, + remains entirely in Michael’s hands. But the trouble is I have no natural + talent for addresses; I learn one for every man—that is friendship’s + offering; and the friend who subsequently changes his residence is dead to + me, memory refusing to pursue him. Thus it comes about that, as I always + write to Michael at his office, I cannot swear to his number in the King’s + Road. Of course (like my neighbours), I have been to dinner there. Of late + years, since his accession to wealth, neglect of business, and election to + the club, these little festivals have become common. He picks up a few + fellows in the smoking-room—all men of Attic wit—myself, for + instance, if he has the luck to find me disengaged; a string of hansoms + may be observed (by Her Majesty) bowling gaily through St James’s Park; + and in a quarter of an hour the party surrounds one of the best appointed + boards in London. + </p> + <p> + But at the time of which we write the house in the King’s Road (let us + still continue to call it No. 233) was kept very quiet; when Michael + entertained guests it was at the halls of Nichol or Verrey that he would + convene them, and the door of his private residence remained closed + against his friends. The upper storey, which was sunny, was set apart for + his father; the drawing-room was never opened; the dining-room was the + scene of Michael’s life. It is in this pleasant apartment, sheltered from + the curiosity of King’s Road by wire blinds, and entirely surrounded by + the lawyer’s unrivalled library of poetry and criminal trials, that we + find him sitting down to his dinner after his holiday with Pitman. A spare + old lady, with very bright eyes and a mouth humorously compressed, waited + upon the lawyer’s needs; in every line of her countenance she betrayed the + fact that she was an old retainer; in every word that fell from her lips + she flaunted the glorious circumstance of a Scottish origin; and the fear + with which this powerful combination fills the boldest was obviously no + stranger to the bosom of our friend. The hot Scotch having somewhat warmed + up the embers of the Heidsieck. It was touching to observe the master’s + eagerness to pull himself together under the servant’s eye; and when he + remarked, ‘I think, Teena, I’ll take a brandy and soda,’ he spoke like a + man doubtful of his elocution, and not half certain of obedience. + </p> + <p> + ‘No such a thing, Mr Michael,’ was the prompt return. ‘Clar’t and water.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, well, Teena, I daresay you know best,’ said the master. ‘Very + fatiguing day at the office, though.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What?’ said the retainer, ‘ye never were near the office!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O yes, I was though; I was repeatedly along Fleet Street,’ returned + Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘Pretty pliskies ye’ve been at this day!’ cried the old lady, with + humorous alacrity; and then, ‘Take care—don’t break my crystal!’ she + cried, as the lawyer came within an ace of knocking the glasses off the + table. + </p> + <p> + ‘And how is he keeping?’ asked Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, just the same, Mr Michael, just the way he’ll be till the end, worthy + man!’ was the reply. ‘But ye’ll not be the first that’s asked me that the + day.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No?’ said the lawyer. ‘Who else?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ay, that’s a joke, too,’ said Teena grimly. ‘A friend of yours: Mr + Morris.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Morris! What was the little beggar wanting here?’ enquired Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘Wantin’? To see him,’ replied the housekeeper, completing her meaning by + a movement of the thumb toward the upper storey. ‘That’s by his way of it; + but I’ve an idee of my own. He tried to bribe me, Mr Michael. Bribe—me!’ + she repeated, with inimitable scorn. ‘That’s no’ kind of a young + gentleman.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Did he so?’ said Michael. ‘I bet he didn’t offer much.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No more he did,’ replied Teena; nor could any subsequent questioning + elicit from her the sum with which the thrifty leather merchant had + attempted to corrupt her. ‘But I sent him about his business,’ she said + gallantly. ‘He’ll not come here again in a hurry.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He mustn’t see my father, you know; mind that!’ said Michael. ‘I’m not + going to have any public exhibition to a little beast like him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No fear of me lettin’ him,’ replied the trusty one. ‘But the joke is + this, Mr Michael—see, ye’re upsettin’ the sauce, that’s a clean + tablecloth—the best of the joke is that he thinks your father’s dead + and you’re keepin’ it dark.’ + </p> + <p> + Michael whistled. ‘Set a thief to catch a thief,’ said he. + </p> + <p> + ‘Exac’ly what I told him!’ cried the delighted dame. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll make him dance for that,’ said Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘Couldn’t ye get the law of him some way?’ suggested Teena truculently. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, I don’t think I could, and I’m quite sure I don’t want to,’ replied + Michael. ‘But I say, Teena, I really don’t believe this claret’s + wholesome; it’s not a sound, reliable wine. Give us a brandy and soda, + there’s a good soul.’ Teena’s face became like adamant. ‘Well, then,’ said + the lawyer fretfully, ‘I won’t eat any more dinner.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ye can please yourself about that, Mr Michael,’ said Teena, and began + composedly to take away. + </p> + <p> + ‘I do wish Teena wasn’t a faithful servant!’ sighed the lawyer, as he + issued into Kings’s Road. + </p> + <p> + The rain had ceased; the wind still blew, but only with a pleasant + freshness; the town, in the clear darkness of the night, glittered with + street-lamps and shone with glancing rain-pools. ‘Come, this is better,’ + thought the lawyer to himself, and he walked on eastward, lending a + pleased ear to the wheels and the million footfalls of the city. + </p> + <p> + Near the end of the King’s Road he remembered his brandy and soda, and + entered a flaunting public-house. A good many persons were present, a + waterman from a cab-stand, half a dozen of the chronically unemployed, a + gentleman (in one corner) trying to sell aesthetic photographs out of a + leather case to another and very youthful gentleman with a yellow goatee, + and a pair of lovers debating some fine shade (in the other). But the + centre-piece and great attraction was a little old man, in a black, + ready-made surtout, which was obviously a recent purchase. On the marble + table in front of him, beside a sandwich and a glass of beer, there lay a + battered forage cap. His hand fluttered abroad with oratorical gestures; + his voice, naturally shrill, was plainly tuned to the pitch of the lecture + room; and by arts, comparable to those of the Ancient Mariner, he was now + holding spellbound the barmaid, the waterman, and four of the unemployed. + </p> + <p> + ‘I have examined all the theatres in London,’ he was saying; ‘and pacing + the principal entrances, I have ascertained them to be ridiculously + disproportionate to the requirements of their audiences. The doors opened + the wrong way—I forget at this moment which it is, but have a note + of it at home; they were frequently locked during the performance, and + when the auditorium was literally thronged with English people. You have + probably not had my opportunities of comparing distant lands; but I can + assure you this has been long ago recognized as a mark of aristocratic + government. Do you suppose, in a country really self-governed, such abuses + could exist? Your own intelligence, however uncultivated, tells you they + could not. Take Austria, a country even possibly more enslaved than + England. I have myself conversed with one of the survivors of the Ring + Theatre, and though his colloquial German was not very good, I succeeded + in gathering a pretty clear idea of his opinion of the case. But, what + will perhaps interest you still more, here is a cutting on the subject + from a Vienna newspaper, which I will now read to you, translating as I + go. You can see for yourselves; it is printed in the German character.’ + And he held the cutting out for verification, much as a conjuror passes a + trick orange along the front bench. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hullo, old gentleman! Is this you?’ said Michael, laying his hand upon + the orator’s shoulder. + </p> + <p> + The figure turned with a convulsion of alarm, and showed the countenance + of Mr Joseph Finsbury. ‘You, Michael!’ he cried. ‘There’s no one with you, + is there?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ replied Michael, ordering a brandy and soda, ‘there’s nobody with + me; whom do you expect?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I thought of Morris or John,’ said the old gentleman, evidently greatly + relieved. + </p> + <p> + ‘What the devil would I be doing with Morris or John?’ cried the nephew. + </p> + <p> + ‘There is something in that,’ returned Joseph. ‘And I believe I can trust + you. I believe you will stand by me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I hardly know what you mean,’ said the lawyer, ‘but if you are in need of + money I am flush.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s not that, my dear boy,’ said the uncle, shaking him by the hand. + ‘I’ll tell you all about it afterwards.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘All right,’ responded the nephew. ‘I stand treat, Uncle Joseph; what will + you have?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘In that case,’ replied the old gentleman, ‘I’ll take another sandwich. I + daresay I surprise you,’ he went on, ‘with my presence in a public-house; + but the fact is, I act on a sound but little-known principle of my own—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, it’s better known than you suppose,’ said Michael sipping his brandy + and soda. ‘I always act on it myself when I want a drink.’ + </p> + <p> + The old gentleman, who was anxious to propitiate Michael, laughed a + cheerless laugh. ‘You have such a flow of spirits,’ said he, ‘I am sure I + often find it quite amusing. But regarding this principle of which I was + about to speak. It is that of accommodating one’s-self to the manners of + any land (however humble) in which our lot may be cast. Now, in France, + for instance, every one goes to a cafe for his meals; in America, to what + is called a “two-bit house”; in England the people resort to such an + institution as the present for refreshment. With sandwiches, tea, and an + occasional glass of bitter beer, a man can live luxuriously in London for + fourteen pounds twelve shillings per annum.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, I know,’ returned Michael, ‘but that’s not including clothes, + washing, or boots. The whole thing, with cigars and occasional sprees, + costs me over seven hundred a year.’ + </p> + <p> + But this was Michael’s last interruption. He listened in good-humoured + silence to the remainder of his uncle’s lecture, which speedily branched + to political reform, thence to the theory of the weather-glass, with an + illustrative account of a bora in the Adriatic; thence again to the best + manner of teaching arithmetic to the deaf-and-dumb; and with that, the + sandwich being then no more, explicuit valde feliciter. A moment later the + pair issued forth on the King’s Road. + </p> + <p> + ‘Michael,’ said his uncle, ‘the reason that I am here is because I cannot + endure those nephews of mine. I find them intolerable.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I daresay you do,’ assented Michael, ‘I never could stand them for a + moment.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘They wouldn’t let me speak,’ continued the old gentleman bitterly; ‘I + never was allowed to get a word in edgewise; I was shut up at once with + some impertinent remark. They kept me on short allowance of pencils, when + I wished to make notes of the most absorbing interest; the daily newspaper + was guarded from me like a young baby from a gorilla. Now, you know me, + Michael. I live for my calculations; I live for my manifold and + ever-changing views of life; pens and paper and the productions of the + popular press are to me as important as food and drink; and my life was + growing quite intolerable when, in the confusion of that fortunate railway + accident at Browndean, I made my escape. They must think me dead, and are + trying to deceive the world for the chance of the tontine.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘By the way, how do you stand for money?’ asked Michael kindly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Pecuniarily speaking, I am rich,’ returned the old man with cheerfulness. + ‘I am living at present at the rate of one hundred a year, with unlimited + pens and paper; the British Museum at which to get books; and all the + newspapers I choose to read. But it’s extraordinary how little a man of + intellectual interest requires to bother with books in a progressive age. + The newspapers supply all the conclusions.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll tell you what,’ said Michael, ‘come and stay with me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Michael,’ said the old gentleman, ‘it’s very kind of you, but you + scarcely understand what a peculiar position I occupy. There are some + little financial complications; as a guardian, my efforts were not + altogether blessed; and not to put too fine a point upon the matter, I am + absolutely in the power of that vile fellow, Morris.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You should be disguised,’ cried Michael eagerly; ‘I will lend you a pair + of window-glass spectacles and some red side-whiskers.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I had already canvassed that idea,’ replied the old gentleman, ‘but + feared to awaken remark in my unpretentious lodgings. The aristocracy, I + am well aware—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But see here,’ interrupted Michael, ‘how do you come to have any money at + all? Don’t make a stranger of me, Uncle Joseph; I know all about the + trust, and the hash you made of it, and the assignment you were forced to + make to Morris.’ + </p> + <p> + Joseph narrated his dealings with the bank. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, but I say, this won’t do,’ cried the lawyer. ‘You’ve put your foot in + it. You had no right to do what you did.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The whole thing is mine, Michael,’ protested the old gentleman. ‘I + founded and nursed that business on principles entirely of my own.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s all very fine,’ said the lawyer; ‘but you made an assignment, you + were forced to make it, too; even then your position was extremely shaky; + but now, my dear sir, it means the dock.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It isn’t possible,’ cried Joseph; ‘the law cannot be so unjust as that?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And the cream of the thing,’ interrupted Michael, with a sudden shout of + laughter, ‘the cream of the thing is this, that of course you’ve downed + the leather business! I must say, Uncle Joseph, you have strange ideas of + law, but I like your taste in humour.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I see nothing to laugh at,’ observed Mr Finsbury tartly. + </p> + <p> + ‘And talking of that, has Morris any power to sign for the firm?’ asked + Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘No one but myself,’ replied Joseph. + </p> + <p> + ‘Poor devil of a Morris! O, poor devil of a Morris!’ cried the lawyer in + delight. ‘And his keeping up the farce that you’re at home! O, Morris, the + Lord has delivered you into my hands! Let me see, Uncle Joseph, what do + you suppose the leather business worth?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It was worth a hundred thousand,’ said Joseph bitterly, ‘when it was in + my hands. But then there came a Scotsman—it is supposed he had a + certain talent—it was entirely directed to bookkeeping—no + accountant in London could understand a word of any of his books; and then + there was Morris, who is perfectly incompetent. And now it is worth very + little. Morris tried to sell it last year; and Pogram and Jarris offered + only four thousand.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall turn my attention to leather,’ said Michael with decision. + </p> + <p> + ‘You?’ asked Joseph. ‘I advise you not. There is nothing in the whole + field of commerce more surprising than the fluctuations of the leather + market. Its sensitiveness may be described as morbid.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And now, Uncle Joseph, what have you done with all that money?’ asked the + lawyer. + </p> + <p> + ‘Paid it into a bank and drew twenty pounds,’ answered Mr Finsbury + promptly. ‘Why?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Very well,’ said Michael. ‘Tomorrow I shall send down a clerk with a + cheque for a hundred, and he’ll draw out the original sum and return it to + the Anglo-Patagonian, with some sort of explanation which I will try to + invent for you. That will clear your feet, and as Morris can’t touch a + penny of it without forgery, it will do no harm to my little scheme.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But what am I to do?’ asked Joseph; ‘I cannot live upon nothing.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t you hear?’ returned Michael. ‘I send you a cheque for a hundred; + which leaves you eighty to go along upon; and when that’s done, apply to + me again.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I would rather not be beholden to your bounty all the same,’ said Joseph, + biting at his white moustache. ‘I would rather live on my own money, since + I have it.’ + </p> + <p> + Michael grasped his arm. ‘Will nothing make you believe,’ he cried, ‘that + I am trying to save you from Dartmoor?’ + </p> + <p> + His earnestness staggered the old man. ‘I must turn my attention to law,’ + he said; ‘it will be a new field; for though, of course, I understand its + general principles, I have never really applied my mind to the details, + and this view of yours, for example, comes on me entirely by surprise. But + you may be right, and of course at my time of life—for I am no + longer young—any really long term of imprisonment would be highly + prejudicial. But, my dear nephew, I have no claim on you; you have no call + to support me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s all right,’ said Michael; ‘I’ll probably get it out of the leather + business.’ + </p> + <p> + And having taken down the old gentleman’s address, Michael left him at the + corner of a street. + </p> + <p> + ‘What a wonderful old muddler!’ he reflected, ‘and what a singular thing + is life! I seem to be condemned to be the instrument of Providence. Let me + see; what have I done today? Disposed of a dead body, saved Pitman, saved + my Uncle Joseph, brightened up Forsyth, and drunk a devil of a lot of most + indifferent liquor. Let’s top off with a visit to my cousins, and be the + instrument of Providence in earnest. Tomorrow I can turn my attention to + leather; tonight I’ll just make it lively for ‘em in a friendly spirit.’ + </p> + <p> + About a quarter of an hour later, as the clocks were striking eleven, the + instrument of Providence descended from a hansom, and, bidding the driver + wait, rapped at the door of No. 16 John Street. + </p> + <p> + It was promptly opened by Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, it’s you, Michael,’ he said, carefully blocking up the narrow opening: + ‘it’s very late.’ + </p> + <p> + Michael without a word reached forth, grasped Morris warmly by the hand, + and gave it so extreme a squeeze that the sullen householder fell back. + Profiting by this movement, the lawyer obtained a footing in the lobby and + marched into the dining-room, with Morris at his heels. + </p> + <p> + ‘Where’s my Uncle Joseph?’ demanded Michael, sitting down in the most + comfortable chair. + </p> + <p> + ‘He’s not been very well lately,’ replied Morris; ‘he’s staying at + Browndean; John is nursing him; and I am alone, as you see.’ + </p> + <p> + Michael smiled to himself. ‘I want to see him on particular business,’ he + said. + </p> + <p> + ‘You can’t expect to see my uncle when you won’t let me see your father,’ + returned Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘Fiddlestick,’ said Michael. ‘My father is my father; but Joseph is just + as much my uncle as he’s yours; and you have no right to sequestrate his + person.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I do no such thing,’ said Morris doggedly. ‘He is not well, he is + dangerously ill and nobody can see him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll tell you what, then,’ said Michael. ‘I’ll make a clean breast of it. + I have come down like the opossum, Morris; I have come to compromise.’ + </p> + <p> + Poor Morris turned as pale as death, and then a flush of wrath against the + injustice of man’s destiny dyed his very temples. ‘What do you mean?’ he + cried, ‘I don’t believe a word of it.’ And when Michael had assured him of + his seriousness, ‘Well, then,’ he cried, with another deep flush, ‘I + won’t; so you can put that in your pipe and smoke it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oho!’ said Michael queerly. ‘You say your uncle is dangerously ill, and + you won’t compromise? There’s something very fishy about that.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What do you mean?’ cried Morris hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + ‘I only say it’s fishy,’ returned Michael, ‘that is, pertaining to the + finny tribe.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you mean to insinuate anything?’ cried Morris stormily, trying the + high hand. + </p> + <p> + ‘Insinuate?’ repeated Michael. ‘O, don’t let’s begin to use awkward + expressions! Let us drown our differences in a bottle, like two affable + kinsmen. The Two Affable Kinsmen, sometimes attributed to Shakespeare,’ he + added. + </p> + <p> + Morris’s mind was labouring like a mill. ‘Does he suspect? or is this + chance and stuff? Should I soap, or should I bully? Soap,’ he concluded. + ‘It gains time.’ ‘Well,’ said he aloud, and with rather a painful + affectation of heartiness, ‘it’s long since we have had an evening + together, Michael; and though my habits (as you know) are very temperate, + I may as well make an exception. Excuse me one moment till I fetch a + bottle of whisky from the cellar.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No whisky for me,’ said Michael; ‘a little of the old still champagne or + nothing.’ + </p> + <p> + For a moment Morris stood irresolute, for the wine was very valuable: the + next he had quitted the room without a word. His quick mind had perceived + his advantage; in thus dunning him for the cream of the cellar, Michael + was playing into his hand. ‘One bottle?’ he thought. ‘By George, I’ll give + him two! this is no moment for economy; and once the beast is drunk, it’s + strange if I don’t wring his secret out of him.’ + </p> + <p> + With two bottles, accordingly, he returned. Glasses were produced, and + Morris filled them with hospitable grace. + </p> + <p> + ‘I drink to you, cousin!’ he cried gaily. ‘Don’t spare the wine-cup in my + house.’ + </p> + <p> + Michael drank his glass deliberately, standing at the table; filled it + again, and returned to his chair, carrying the bottle along with him. + </p> + <p> + ‘The spoils of war!’ he said apologetically. ‘The weakest goes to the + wall. Science, Morris, science.’ Morris could think of no reply, and for + an appreciable interval silence reigned. But two glasses of the still + champagne produced a rapid change in Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘There’s a want of vivacity about you, Morris,’ he observed. ‘You may be + deep; but I’ll be hanged if you’re vivacious!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What makes you think me deep?’ asked Morris with an air of pleased + simplicity. + </p> + <p> + ‘Because you won’t compromise,’ said the lawyer. ‘You’re deep dog, Morris, + very deep dog, not t’ compromise—remarkable deep dog. And a very + good glass of wine; it’s the only respectable feature in the Finsbury + family, this wine; rarer thing than a title—much rarer. Now a man + with glass wine like this in cellar, I wonder why won’t compromise?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, YOU wouldn’t compromise before, you know,’ said the smiling Morris. + ‘Turn about is fair play.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I wonder why <i>I</i> wouldn’ compromise? I wonder why YOU wouldn’?’ + enquired Michael. ‘I wonder why we each think the other wouldn’? ‘S quite + a remarrable—remarkable problem,’ he added, triumphing over oral + obstacles, not without obvious pride. ‘Wonder what we each think—don’t + you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What do you suppose to have been my reason?’ asked Morris adroitly. + </p> + <p> + Michael looked at him and winked. ‘That’s cool,’ said he. ‘Next thing, + you’ll ask me to help you out of the muddle. I know I’m emissary of + Providence, but not that kind! You get out of it yourself, like Aesop and + the other fellow. Must be dreadful muddle for young orphan o’ forty; + leather business and all!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am sure I don’t know what you mean,’ said Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘Not sure I know myself,’ said Michael. ‘This is exc’lent vintage, sir—exc’lent + vintage. Nothing against the tipple. Only thing: here’s a valuable uncle + disappeared. Now, what I want to know: where’s valuable uncle?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have told you: he is at Browndean,’ answered Morris, furtively wiping + his brow, for these repeated hints began to tell upon him cruelly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Very easy say Brown—Browndee—no’ so easy after all!’ cried + Michael. ‘Easy say; anything’s easy say, when you can say it. What I don’ + like’s total disappearance of an uncle. Not businesslike.’ And he wagged + his head. + </p> + <p> + ‘It is all perfectly simple,’ returned Morris, with laborious calm. ‘There + is no mystery. He stays at Browndean, where he got a shake in the + accident.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah!’ said Michael, ‘got devil of a shake!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why do you say that?’ cried Morris sharply. + </p> + <p> + ‘Best possible authority. Told me so yourself,’ said the lawyer. ‘But if + you tell me contrary now, of course I’m bound to believe either the one + story or the other. Point is I’ve upset this bottle, still champagne’s + exc’lent thing carpet—point is, is valuable uncle dead—an’—bury?’ + </p> + <p> + Morris sprang from his seat. ‘What’s that you say?’ he gasped. + </p> + <p> + ‘I say it’s exc’lent thing carpet,’ replied Michael, rising. ‘Exc’lent + thing promote healthy action of the skin. Well, it’s all one, anyway. Give + my love to Uncle Champagne.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You’re not going away?’ said Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘Awf’ly sorry, ole man. Got to sit up sick friend,’ said the wavering + Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘You shall not go till you have explained your hints,’ returned Morris + fiercely. ‘What do you mean? What brought you here?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No offence, I trust,’ said the lawyer, turning round as he opened the + door; ‘only doing my duty as shemishery of Providence.’ + </p> + <p> + Groping his way to the front-door, he opened it with some difficulty, and + descended the steps to the hansom. The tired driver looked up as he + approached, and asked where he was to go next. + </p> + <p> + Michael observed that Morris had followed him to the steps; a brilliant + inspiration came to him. ‘Anything t’ give pain,’ he reflected. . . . + ‘Drive Shcotlan’ Yard,’ he added aloud, holding to the wheel to steady + himself; ‘there’s something devilish fishy, cabby, about those cousins. + Mush’ be cleared up! Drive Shcotlan’ Yard.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You don’t mean that, sir,’ said the man, with the ready sympathy of the + lower orders for an intoxicated gentleman. ‘I had better take you home, + sir; you can go to Scotland Yard tomorrow.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Is it as friend or as perfessional man you advise me not to go Shcotlan’ + Yard t’night?’ enquired Michael. ‘All righ’, never min’ Shcotlan’ Yard, + drive Gaiety bar.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The Gaiety bar is closed,’ said the man. + </p> + <p> + ‘Then home,’ said Michael, with the same cheerfulness. + </p> + <p> + ‘Where to, sir?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t remember, I’m sure,’ said Michael, entering the vehicle, ‘drive + Shcotlan’ Yard and ask.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But you’ll have a card,’ said the man, through the little aperture in the + top, ‘give me your card-case.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What imagi—imagination in a cabby!’ cried the lawyer, producing his + card-case, and handing it to the driver. + </p> + <p> + The man read it by the light of the lamp. ‘Mr Michael Finsbury, 233 King’s + Road, Chelsea. Is that it, sir?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Right you are,’ cried Michael, ‘drive there if you can see way.’ + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. Gideon Forsyth and the Broadwood Grand + </h2> + <p> + The reader has perhaps read that remarkable work, Who Put Back the Clock? + by E. H. B., which appeared for several days upon the railway bookstalls + and then vanished entirely from the face of the earth. Whether eating Time + makes the chief of his diet out of old editions; whether Providence has + passed a special enactment on behalf of authors; or whether these last + have taken the law into their own hand, bound themselves into a dark + conspiracy with a password, which I would die rather than reveal, and + night after night sally forth under some vigorous leader, such as Mr James + Payn or Mr Walter Besant, on their task of secret spoliation—certain + it is, at least, that the old editions pass, giving place to new. To the + proof, it is believed there are now only three copies extant of Who Put + Back the Clock? one in the British Museum, successfully concealed by a + wrong entry in the catalogue; another in one of the cellars (the cellar + where the music accumulates) of the Advocates’ Library at Edinburgh; and a + third, bound in morocco, in the possession of Gideon Forsyth. To account + for the very different fate attending this third exemplar, the readiest + theory is to suppose that Gideon admired the tale. How to explain that + admiration might appear (to those who have perused the work) more + difficult; but the weakness of a parent is extreme, and Gideon (and not + his uncle, whose initials he had humorously borrowed) was the author of + Who Put Back the Clock? He had never acknowledged it, or only to some + intimate friends while it was still in proof; after its appearance and + alarming failure, the modesty of the novelist had become more pressing, + and the secret was now likely to be better kept than that of the + authorship of Waverley. + </p> + <p> + A copy of the work (for the date of my tale is already yesterday) still + figured in dusty solitude in the bookstall at Waterloo; and Gideon, as he + passed with his ticket for Hampton Court, smiled contemptuously at the + creature of his thoughts. What an idle ambition was the author’s! How far + beneath him was the practice of that childish art! With his hand closing + on his first brief, he felt himself a man at last; and the muse who + presides over the police romance, a lady presumably of French extraction, + fled his neighbourhood, and returned to join the dance round the springs + of Helicon, among her Grecian sisters. + </p> + <p> + Robust, practical reflection still cheered the young barrister upon his + journey. Again and again he selected the little country-house in its islet + of great oaks, which he was to make his future home. Like a prudent + householder, he projected improvements as he passed; to one he added a + stable, to another a tennis-court, a third he supplied with a becoming + rustic boat-house. + </p> + <p> + ‘How little a while ago,’ he could not but reflect, ‘I was a careless + young dog with no thought but to be comfortable! I cared for nothing but + boating and detective novels. I would have passed an old-fashioned + country-house with large kitchen-garden, stabling, boat-house, and + spacious offices, without so much as a look, and certainly would have made + no enquiry as to the drains. How a man ripens with the years!’ + </p> + <p> + The intelligent reader will perceive the ravages of Miss Hazeltine. Gideon + had carried Julia straight to Mr Bloomfield’s house; and that gentleman, + having been led to understand she was the victim of oppression, had + noisily espoused her cause. He worked himself into a fine breathing heat; + in which, to a man of his temperament, action became needful. + </p> + <p> + ‘I do not know which is the worse,’ he cried, ‘the fraudulent old villain + or the unmanly young cub. I will write to the Pall Mall and expose them. + Nonsense, sir; they must be exposed! It’s a public duty. Did you not tell + me the fellow was a Tory? O, the uncle is a Radical lecturer, is he? No + doubt the uncle has been grossly wronged. But of course, as you say, that + makes a change; it becomes scarce so much a public duty.’ + </p> + <p> + And he sought and instantly found a fresh outlet for his alacrity. Miss + Hazeltine (he now perceived) must be kept out of the way; his houseboat + was lying ready—he had returned but a day or two before from his + usual cruise; there was no place like a houseboat for concealment; and + that very morning, in the teeth of the easterly gale, Mr and Mrs + Bloomfield and Miss Julia Hazeltine had started forth on their untimely + voyage. Gideon pled in vain to be allowed to join the party. ‘No, Gid,’ + said his uncle. ‘You will be watched; you must keep away from us.’ Nor had + the barrister ventured to contest this strange illusion; for he feared if + he rubbed off any of the romance, that Mr Bloomfield might weary of the + whole affair. And his discretion was rewarded; for the Squirradical, + laying a heavy hand upon his nephew’s shoulder, had added these notable + expressions: ‘I see what you are after, Gid. But if you’re going to get + the girl, you have to work, sir.’ + </p> + <p> + These pleasing sounds had cheered the barrister all day, as he sat reading + in chambers; they continued to form the ground-base of his manly musings + as he was whirled to Hampton Court; even when he landed at the station, + and began to pull himself together for his delicate interview, the voice + of Uncle Ned and the eyes of Julia were not forgotten. + </p> + <p> + But now it began to rain surprises: in all Hampton Court there was no + Kurnaul Villa, no Count Tarnow, and no count. This was strange; but, + viewed in the light of the incoherency of his instructions, not perhaps + inexplicable; Mr Dickson had been lunching, and he might have made some + fatal oversight in the address. What was the thoroughly prompt, manly, and + businesslike step? thought Gideon; and he answered himself at once: ‘A + telegram, very laconic.’ Speedily the wires were flashing the following + very important missive: ‘Dickson, Langham Hotel. Villa and persons both + unknown here, suppose erroneous address; follow self next train.—Forsyth.’ + And at the Langham Hotel, sure enough, with a brow expressive of dispatch + and intellectual effort, Gideon descended not long after from a smoking + hansom. + </p> + <p> + I do not suppose that Gideon will ever forget the Langham Hotel. No Count + Tarnow was one thing; no John Dickson and no Ezra Thomas, quite another. + How, why, and what next, danced in his bewildered brain; from every centre + of what we playfully call the human intellect incongruous messages were + telegraphed; and before the hubbub of dismay had quite subsided, the + barrister found himself driving furiously for his chambers. There was at + least a cave of refuge; it was at least a place to think in; and he + climbed the stair, put his key in the lock and opened the door, with some + approach to hope. + </p> + <p> + It was all dark within, for the night had some time fallen; but Gideon + knew his room, he knew where the matches stood on the end of the + chimney-piece; and he advanced boldly, and in so doing dashed himself + against a heavy body; where (slightly altering the expressions of the + song) no heavy body should have been. There had been nothing there when + Gideon went out; he had locked the door behind him, he had found it locked + on his return, no one could have entered, the furniture could not have + changed its own position. And yet undeniably there was a something there. + He thrust out his hands in the darkness. Yes, there was something, + something large, something smooth, something cold. + </p> + <p> + ‘Heaven forgive me!’ said Gideon, ‘it feels like a piano.’ + </p> + <p> + And the next moment he remembered the vestas in his waistcoat pocket and + had struck a light. + </p> + <p> + It was indeed a piano that met his doubtful gaze; a vast and costly + instrument, stained with the rains of the afternoon and defaced with + recent scratches. The light of the vesta was reflected from the varnished + sides, like a star in quiet water; and in the farther end of the room + the shadow of that strange visitor loomed bulkily and wavered on the wall. + </p> + <p> + Gideon let the match burn to his fingers, and the darkness closed once + more on his bewilderment. Then with trembling hands he lit the lamp and + drew near. Near or far, there was no doubt of the fact: the thing was a + piano. There, where by all the laws of God and man it was impossible that + it should be—there the thing impudently stood. Gideon threw open the + keyboard and struck a chord. Not a sound disturbed the quiet of the room. + ‘Is there anything wrong with me?’ he thought, with a pang; and drawing in + a seat, obstinately persisted in his attempts to ravish silence, now with + sparkling arpeggios, now with a sonata of Beethoven’s which (in happier + days) he knew to be one of the loudest pieces of that powerful composer. + Still not a sound. He gave the Broadwood two great bangs with his clenched + first. All was still as the grave. The young barrister started to his + feet. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am stark-staring mad,’ he cried aloud, ‘and no one knows it but myself. + God’s worst curse has fallen on me.’ + </p> + <p> + His fingers encountered his watch-chain; instantly he had plucked forth + his watch and held it to his ear. He could hear it ticking. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am not deaf,’ he said aloud. ‘I am only insane. My mind has quitted me + for ever.’ + </p> + <p> + He looked uneasily about the room, and—gazed with lacklustre eyes at + the chair in which Mr Dickson had installed himself. The end of a cigar + lay near on the fender. + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ he thought, ‘I don’t believe that was a dream; but God knows my mind + is failing rapidly. I seem to be hungry, for instance; it’s probably + another hallucination. Still I might try. I shall have one more good meal; + I shall go to the Cafe Royal, and may possibly be removed from there + direct to the asylum.’ + </p> + <p> + He wondered with morbid interest, as he descended the stairs, how he would + first betray his terrible condition—would he attack a waiter? or eat + glass?—and when he had mounted into a cab, he bade the man drive to + Nichol’s, with a lurking fear that there was no such place. + </p> + <p> + The flaring, gassy entrance of the cafe speedily set his mind at rest; he + was cheered besides to recognize his favourite waiter; his orders appeared + to be coherent; the dinner, when it came, was quite a sensible meal, and + he ate it with enjoyment. ‘Upon my word,’ he reflected, ‘I am about + tempted to indulge a hope. Have I been hasty? Have I done what Robert + Skill would have done?’ Robert Skill (I need scarcely mention) was the + name of the principal character in Who Put Back the Clock? It had occurred + to the author as a brilliant and probable invention; to readers of a + critical turn, Robert appeared scarce upon a level with his surname; but + it is the difficulty of the police romance, that the reader is always a + man of such vastly greater ingenuity than the writer. In the eyes of his + creator, however, Robert Skill was a word to conjure with; the thought + braced and spurred him; what that brilliant creature would have done + Gideon would do also. This frame of mind is not uncommon; the distressed + general, the baited divine, the hesitating author, decide severally to do + what Napoleon, what St Paul, what Shakespeare would have done; and there + remains only the minor question, What is that? In Gideon’s case one thing + was clear: Skill was a man of singular decision, he would have taken some + step (whatever it was) at once; and the only step that Gideon could think + of was to return to his chambers. + </p> + <p> + This being achieved, all further inspiration failed him, and he stood + pitifully staring at the instrument of his confusion. To touch the keys + again was more than he durst venture on; whether they had maintained their + former silence, or responded with the tones of the last trump, it would + have equally dethroned his resolution. ‘It may be a practical jest,’ he + reflected, ‘though it seems elaborate and costly. And yet what else can it + be? It MUST be a practical jest.’ And just then his eye fell upon a + feature which seemed corroborative of that view: the pagoda of cigars + which Michael had erected ere he left the chambers. ‘Why that?’ reflected + Gideon. ‘It seems entirely irresponsible.’ And drawing near, he gingerly + demolished it. ‘A key,’ he thought. ‘Why that? And why so conspicuously + placed?’ He made the circuit of the instrument, and perceived the keyhole + at the back. ‘Aha! this is what the key is for,’ said he. ‘They wanted me + to look inside. Stranger and stranger.’ And with that he turned the key + and raised the lid. + </p> + <p> + In what antics of agony, in what fits of flighty resolution, in what + collapses of despair, Gideon consumed the night, it would be ungenerous to + enquire too closely. + </p> + <p> + That trill of tiny song with which the eaves-birds of London welcome the + approach of day found him limp and rumpled and bloodshot, and with a mind + still vacant of resource. He rose and looked forth unrejoicingly on + blinded windows, an empty street, and the grey daylight dotted with the + yellow lamps. There are mornings when the city seems to awake with a sick + headache; this was one of them; and still the twittering reveille of the + sparrows stirred in Gideon’s spirit. + </p> + <p> + ‘Day here,’ he thought, ‘and I still helpless! This must come to an end.’ + And he locked up the piano, put the key in his pocket, and set forth in + quest of coffee. As he went, his mind trudged for the hundredth time a + certain mill-road of terrors, misgivings, and regrets. To call in the + police, to give up the body, to cover London with handbills describing + John Dickson and Ezra Thomas, to fill the papers with paragraphs, + Mysterious Occurrence in the Temple—Mr Forsyth admitted to bail, + this was one course, an easy course, a safe course; but not, the more he + reflected on it, not a pleasant one. For, was it not to publish abroad a + number of singular facts about himself? A child ought to have seen through + the story of these adventurers, and he had gaped and swallowed it. A + barrister of the least self-respect should have refused to listen to + clients who came before him in a manner so irregular, and he had listened. + And O, if he had only listened; but he had gone upon their errand—he, + a barrister, uninstructed even by the shadow of a solicitor—upon an + errand fit only for a private detective; and alas!—and for the + hundredth time the blood surged to his brow—he had taken their + money! ‘No,’ said he, ‘the thing is as plain as St Paul’s. I shall be + dishonoured! I have smashed my career for a five-pound note.’ + </p> + <p> + Between the possibility of being hanged in all innocence, and the + certainty of a public and merited disgrace, no gentleman of spirit could + long hesitate. After three gulps of that hot, snuffy, and muddy beverage, + that passes on the streets of London for a decoction of the coffee berry, + Gideon’s mind was made up. He would do without the police. He must face + the other side of the dilemma, and be Robert Skill in earnest. What would + Robert Skill have done? How does a gentleman dispose of a dead body, + honestly come by? He remembered the inimitable story of the hunchback; + reviewed its course, and dismissed it for a worthless guide. It was + impossible to prop a corpse on the corner of Tottenham Court Road without + arousing fatal curiosity in the bosoms of the passers-by; as for lowering + it down a London chimney, the physical obstacles were insurmountable. To + get it on board a train and drop it out, or on the top of an omnibus and + drop it off, were equally out of the question. To get it on a yacht and + drop it overboard, was more conceivable; but for a man of moderate means + it seemed extravagant. The hire of the yacht was in itself a + consideration; the subsequent support of the whole crew (which seemed a + necessary consequence) was simply not to be thought of. His uncle and the + houseboat here occurred in very luminous colours to his mind. A musical + composer (say, of the name of Jimson) might very well suffer, like + Hogarth’s musician before him, from the disturbances of London. He might + very well be pressed for time to finish an opera—say the comic opera + Orange Pekoe—Orange Pekoe, music by Jimson—‘this young + maestro, one of the most promising of our recent English school’—vigorous + entrance of the drums, etc.—the whole character of Jimson and his + music arose in bulk before the mind of Gideon. What more likely than + Jimson’s arrival with a grand piano (say, at Padwick), and his residence + in a houseboat alone with the unfinished score of Orange Pekoe? His + subsequent disappearance, leaving nothing behind but an empty piano case, + it might be more difficult to account for. And yet even that was + susceptible of explanation. For, suppose Jimson had gone mad over a fugal + passage, and had thereupon destroyed the accomplice of his infamy, and + plunged into the welcome river? What end, on the whole, more probable for + a modern musician? + </p> + <p> + ‘By Jove, I’ll do it,’ cried Gideon. ‘Jimson is the boy!’ + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. The Maestro Jimson + </h2> + <p> + Mr Edward Hugh Bloomfield having announced his intention to stay in the + neighbourhood of Maidenhead, what more probable than that the Maestro + Jimson should turn his mind toward Padwick? Near this pleasant riverside + village he remembered to have observed an ancient, weedy houseboat lying + moored beside a tuft of willows. It had stirred in him, in his careless + hours, as he pulled down the river under a more familiar name, a certain + sense of the romantic; and when the nice contrivance of his story was + already complete in his mind, he had come near pulling it all down again, + like an ungrateful clock, in order to introduce a chapter in which Richard + Skill (who was always being decoyed somewhere) should be decoyed on board + that lonely hulk by Lord Bellew and the American desperado Gin Sling. It + was fortunate he had not done so, he reflected, since the hulk was now + required for very different purposes. + </p> + <p> + Jimson, a man of inconspicuous costume, but insinuating manners, had + little difficulty in finding the hireling who had charge of the houseboat, + and still less in persuading him to resign his care. The rent was almost + nominal, the entry immediate, the key was exchanged against a suitable + advance in money, and Jimson returned to town by the afternoon train to + see about dispatching his piano. + </p> + <p> + ‘I will be down tomorrow,’ he had said reassuringly. ‘My opera is waited + for with such impatience, you know.’ + </p> + <p> + And, sure enough, about the hour of noon on the following day, Jimson + might have been observed ascending the riverside road that goes from + Padwick to Great Haverham, carrying in one hand a basket of provisions, + and under the other arm a leather case containing (it is to be + conjectured) the score of Orange Pekoe. It was October weather; the + stone-grey sky was full of larks, the leaden mirror of the Thames + brightened with autumnal foliage, and the fallen leaves of the chestnuts + chirped under the composer’s footing. There is no time of the year in + England more courageous; and Jimson, though he was not without his + troubles, whistled as he went. + </p> + <p> + A little above Padwick the river lies very solitary. On the opposite shore + the trees of a private park enclose the view, the chimneys of the mansion + just pricking forth above their clusters; on the near side the path is + bordered by willows. Close among these lay the houseboat, a thing so + soiled by the tears of the overhanging willows, so grown upon with + parasites, so decayed, so battered, so neglected, such a haunt of rats, so + advertised a storehouse of rheumatic agonies, that the heart of an + intending occupant might well recoil. A plank, by way of flying + drawbridge, joined it to the shore. And it was a dreary moment for Jimson + when he pulled this after him and found himself alone on this unwholesome + fortress. He could hear the rats scuttle and flop in the abhorred + interior; the key cried among the wards like a thing in pain; the + sitting-room was deep in dust, and smelt strong of bilge-water. It could + not be called a cheerful spot, even for a composer absorbed in beloved + toil; how much less for a young gentleman haunted by alarms and awaiting + the arrival of a corpse! + </p> + <p> + He sat down, cleared away a piece of the table, and attacked the cold + luncheon in his basket. In case of any subsequent inquiry into the fate of + Jimson, It was desirable he should be little seen: in other words, that he + should spend the day entirely in the house. To this end, and further to + corroborate his fable, he had brought in the leather case not only writing + materials, but a ream of large-size music paper, such as he considered + suitable for an ambitious character like Jimson’s. ‘And now to work,’ said + he, when he had satisfied his appetite. ‘We must leave traces of the + wretched man’s activity.’ And he wrote in bold characters: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ORANGE PEKOE. + Op. 17. + J. B. JIMSON. + Vocal and p. f. score. +</pre> + <p> + ‘I suppose they never do begin like this,’ reflected Gideon; ‘but then + it’s quite out of the question for me to tackle a full score, and Jimson + was so unconventional. A dedication would be found convincing, I believe. + “Dedicated to” (let me see) “to William Ewart Gladstone, by his obedient + servant the composer.” And now some music: I had better avoid the + overture; it seems to present difficulties. Let’s give an air for the + tenor: key—O, something modern!—seven sharps.’ And he made a + businesslike signature across the staves, and then paused and browsed for + a while on the handle of his pen. Melody, with no better inspiration than + a sheet of paper, is not usually found to spring unbidden in the mind of + the amateur; nor is the key of seven sharps a place of much repose to the + untried. He cast away that sheet. ‘It will help to build up the character + of Jimson,’ Gideon remarked, and again waited on the muse, in various keys + and on divers sheets of paper, but all with results so inconsiderable that + he stood aghast. ‘It’s very odd,’ thought he. ‘I seem to have less fancy + than I thought, or this is an off-day with me; yet Jimson must leave + something.’ And again he bent himself to the task. + </p> + <p> + Presently the penetrating chill of the houseboat began to attack the very + seat of life. He desisted from his unremunerative trial, and, to the + audible annoyance of the rats, walked briskly up and down the cabin. Still + he was cold. ‘This is all nonsense,’ said he. ‘I don’t care about the + risk, but I will not catch a catarrh. I must get out of this den.’ + </p> + <p> + He stepped on deck, and passing to the bow of his embarkation, looked for + the first time up the river. He started. Only a few hundred yards above + another houseboat lay moored among the willows. It was very + spick-and-span, an elegant canoe hung at the stern, the windows were + concealed by snowy curtains, a flag floated from a staff. The more Gideon + looked at it, the more there mingled with his disgust a sense of impotent + surprise. It was very like his uncle’s houseboat; it was exceedingly like—it + was identical. But for two circumstances, he could have sworn it was the + same. The first, that his uncle had gone to Maidenhead, might be explained + away by that flightiness of purpose which is so common a trait among the + more than usually manly. The second, however, was conclusive: it was not + in the least like Mr Bloomfield to display a banner on his floating + residence; and if he ever did, it would certainly be dyed in hues of + emblematical propriety. Now the Squirradical, like the vast majority of + the more manly, had drawn knowledge at the wells of Cambridge—he was + wooden spoon in the year 1850; and the flag upon the houseboat streamed on + the afternoon air with the colours of that seat of Toryism, that cradle of + Puseyism, that home of the inexact and the effete Oxford. Still it was + strangely like, thought Gideon. + </p> + <p> + And as he thus looked and thought, the door opened, and a young lady + stepped forth on deck. The barrister dropped and fled into his cabin—it + was Julia Hazeltine! Through the window he watched her draw in the canoe, + get on board of it, cast off, and come dropping downstream in his + direction. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, all is up now,’ said he, and he fell on a seat. + </p> + <p> + ‘Good-afternoon, miss,’ said a voice on the water. Gideon knew it for the + voice of his landlord. + </p> + <p> + ‘Good-afternoon,’ replied Julia, ‘but I don’t know who you are; do I? O + yes, I do though. You are the nice man that gave us leave to sketch from + the old houseboat.’ + </p> + <p> + Gideon’s heart leaped with fear. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s it,’ returned the man. ‘And what I wanted to say was as you + couldn’t do it any more. You see I’ve let it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Let it!’ cried Julia. + </p> + <p> + ‘Let it for a month,’ said the man. ‘Seems strange, don’t it? Can’t see + what the party wants with it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It seems very romantic of him, I think,’ said Julia, ‘What sort of a + person is he?’ + </p> + <p> + Julia in her canoe, the landlord in his wherry, were close alongside, and + holding on by the gunwale of the houseboat; so that not a word was lost on + Gideon. + </p> + <p> + ‘He’s a music-man,’ said the landlord, ‘or at least that’s what he told + me, miss; come down here to write an op’ra.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Really!’ cried Julia, ‘I never heard of anything so delightful! Why, we + shall be able to slip down at night and hear him improvise! What is his + name?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Jimson,’ said the man. + </p> + <p> + ‘Jimson?’ repeated Julia, and interrogated her memory in vain. But indeed + our rising school of English music boasts so many professors that we + rarely hear of one till he is made a baronet. ‘Are you sure you have it + right?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Made him spell it to me,’ replied the landlord. ‘J-I-M-S-O-N—Jimson; + and his op’ra’s called—some kind of tea.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘SOME KIND OF TEA!’ cried the girl. ‘What a very singular name for an + opera! What can it be about?’ And Gideon heard her pretty laughter flow + abroad. ‘We must try to get acquainted with this Mr Jimson; I feel sure he + must be nice.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, miss, I’m afraid I must be going on. I’ve got to be at Haverham, + you see.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, don’t let me keep you, you kind man!’ said Julia. ‘Good afternoon.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Good afternoon to you, miss.’ + </p> + <p> + Gideon sat in the cabin a prey to the most harrowing thoughts. Here he was + anchored to a rotting houseboat, soon to be anchored to it still more + emphatically by the presence of the corpse, and here was the country + buzzing about him, and young ladies already proposing pleasure parties to + surround his house at night. Well, that meant the gallows; and much he + cared for that. What troubled him now was Julia’s indescribable levity. + That girl would scrape acquaintance with anybody; she had no reserve, none + of the enamel of the lady. She was familiar with a brute like his + landlord; she took an immediate interest (which she lacked even the + delicacy to conceal) in a creature like Jimson! He could conceive her + asking Jimson to have tea with her! And it was for a girl like this that a + man like Gideon—Down, manly heart! + </p> + <p> + He was interrupted by a sound that sent him whipping behind the door in a + trice. Miss Hazeltine had stepped on board the houseboat. Her sketch was + promising; judging from the stillness, she supposed Jimson not yet come; + and she had decided to seize occasion and complete the work of art. Down + she sat therefore in the bow, produced her block and water-colours, and + was soon singing over (what used to be called) the ladylike + accomplishment. Now and then indeed her song was interrupted, as she + searched in her memory for some of the odious little receipts by means of + which the game is practised—or used to be practised in the brave + days of old; they say the world, and those ornaments of the world, young + ladies, are become more sophisticated now; but Julia had probably studied + under Pitman, and she stood firm in the old ways. + </p> + <p> + Gideon, meanwhile, stood behind the door, afraid to move, afraid to + breathe, afraid to think of what must follow, racked by confinement and + borne to the ground with tedium. This particular phase, he felt with + gratitude, could not last for ever; whatever impended (even the gallows, + he bitterly and perhaps erroneously reflected) could not fail to be a + relief. To calculate cubes occurred to him as an ingenious and even + profitable refuge from distressing thoughts, and he threw his manhood into + that dreary exercise. + </p> + <p> + Thus, then, were these two young persons occupied—Gideon attacking + the perfect number with resolution; Julia vigorously stippling incongruous + colours on her block, when Providence dispatched into these waters a + steam-launch asthmatically panting up the Thames. All along the banks the + water swelled and fell, and the reeds rustled. The houseboat itself, that + ancient stationary creature, became suddenly imbued with life, and rolled + briskly at her moorings, like a sea-going ship when she begins to smell + the harbour bar. The wash had nearly died away, and the quick panting of + the launch sounded already faint and far off, when Gideon was startled by + a cry from Julia. Peering through the window, he beheld her staring + disconsolately downstream at the fast-vanishing canoe. The barrister + (whatever were his faults) displayed on this occasion a promptitude worthy + of his hero, Robert Skill; with one effort of his mind he foresaw what was + about to follow; with one movement of his body he dropped to the floor and + crawled under the table. + </p> + <p> + Julia, on her part, was not yet alive to her position. She saw she had + lost the canoe, and she looked forward with something less than avidity to + her next interview with Mr Bloomfield; but she had no idea that she was + imprisoned, for she knew of the plank bridge. + </p> + <p> + She made the circuit of the house, and found the door open and the bridge + withdrawn. It was plain, then, that Jimson must have come; plain, too, + that he must be on board. He must be a very shy man to have suffered this + invasion of his residence, and made no sign; and her courage rose higher + at the thought. He must come now, she must force him from his privacy, for + the plank was too heavy for her single strength; so she tapped upon the + open door. Then she tapped again. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mr Jimson,’ she cried, ‘Mr Jimson! here, come!—you must come, you + know, sooner or later, for I can’t get off without you. O, don’t be so + exceedingly silly! O, please, come!’ + </p> + <p> + Still there was no reply. + </p> + <p> + ‘If he is here he must be mad,’ she thought, with a little fear. And the + next moment she remembered he had probably gone aboard like herself in a + boat. In that case she might as well see the houseboat, and she pushed + open the door and stepped in. Under the table, where he lay smothered with + dust, Gideon’s heart stood still. + </p> + <p> + There were the remains of Jimson’s lunch. ‘He likes rather nice things to + eat,’ she thought. ‘O, I am sure he is quite a delightful man. I wonder if + he is as good-looking as Mr Forsyth. Mrs Jimson—I don’t believe it + sounds as nice as Mrs Forsyth; but then “Gideon” is so really odious! And + here is some of his music too; this is delightful. Orange Pekoe—O, + that’s what he meant by some kind of tea.’ And she trilled with laughter. + ‘Adagio molto espressivo, sempre legato,’ she read next. (For the literary + part of a composer’s business Gideon was well equipped.) ‘How very strange + to have all these directions, and only three or four notes! O, here’s + another with some more. Andante patetico.’ And she began to glance over + the music. ‘O dear me,’ she thought, ‘he must be terribly modern! It all + seems discords to me. Let’s try the air. It is very strange, it seems + familiar.’ She began to sing it, and suddenly broke off with laughter. + ‘Why, it’s “Tommy make room for your Uncle!”’ she cried aloud, so that the + soul of Gideon was filled with bitterness. ‘Andante patetico, indeed! The + man must be a mere impostor.’ + </p> + <p> + And just at this moment there came a confused, scuffling sound from + underneath the table; a strange note, like that of a barn-door fowl, + ushered in a most explosive sneeze; the head of the sufferer was at the + same time brought smartly in contact with the boards above; and the sneeze + was followed by a hollow groan. + </p> + <p> + Julia fled to the door, and there, with the salutary instinct of the + brave, turned and faced the danger. There was no pursuit. The sounds + continued; below the table a crouching figure was indistinctly to be seen + jostled by the throes of a sneezing-fit; and that was all. + </p> + <p> + ‘Surely,’ thought Julia, ‘this is most unusual behaviour. He cannot be a + man of the world!’ + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the dust of years had been disturbed by the young barrister’s + convulsions; and the sneezing-fit was succeeded by a passionate access of + coughing. + </p> + <p> + Julia began to feel a certain interest. ‘I am afraid you are really quite + ill,’ she said, drawing a little nearer. ‘Please don’t let me put you out, + and do not stay under that table, Mr Jimson. Indeed it cannot be good for + you.’ + </p> + <p> + Mr Jimson only answered by a distressing cough; and the next moment the + girl was on her knees, and their faces had almost knocked together under + the table. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, my gracious goodness!’ exclaimed Miss Hazeltine, and sprang to her + feet. ‘Mr Forsyth gone mad!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am not mad,’ said the gentleman ruefully, extricating himself from his + position. ‘Dearest. Miss Hazeltine, I vow to you upon my knees I am not + mad!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You are not!’ she cried, panting. + </p> + <p> + ‘I know,’ he said, ‘that to a superficial eye my conduct may appear + unconventional.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If you are not mad, it was no conduct at all,’ cried the girl, with a + flash of colour, ‘and showed you did not care one penny for my feelings!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘This is the very devil and all. I know—I admit that,’ cried Gideon, + with a great effort of manly candour. + </p> + <p> + ‘It was abominable conduct!’ said Julia, with energy. + </p> + <p> + ‘I know it must have shaken your esteem,’ said the barrister. ‘But, + dearest Miss Hazeltine, I beg of you to hear me out; my behaviour, strange + as it may seem, is not unsusceptible of explanation; and I positively + cannot and will not consent to continue to try to exist without—without + the esteem of one whom I admire—the moment is ill chosen, I am well + aware of that; but I repeat the expression—one whom I admire.’ + </p> + <p> + A touch of amusement appeared on Miss Hazeltine’s face. ‘Very well,’ said + she, ‘come out of this dreadfully cold place, and let us sit down on + deck.’ The barrister dolefully followed her. ‘Now,’ said she, making + herself comfortable against the end of the house, ‘go on. I will hear you + out.’ And then, seeing him stand before her with so much obvious disrelish + to the task, she was suddenly overcome with laughter. Julia’s laugh was a + thing to ravish lovers; she rolled her mirthful descant with the freedom + and the melody of a blackbird’s song upon the river, and repeated by the + echoes of the farther bank. It seemed a thing in its own place and a sound + native to the open air. There was only one creature who heard it without + joy, and that was her unfortunate admirer. + </p> + <p> + ‘Miss Hazeltine,’ he said, in a voice that tottered with annoyance, ‘I + speak as your sincere well-wisher, but this can only be called levity.’ + </p> + <p> + Julia made great eyes at him. + </p> + <p> + ‘I can’t withdraw the word,’ he said: ‘already the freedom with which I + heard you hobnobbing with a boatman gave me exquisite pain. Then there was + a want of reserve about Jimson—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But Jimson appears to be yourself,’ objected Julia. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am far from denying that,’ cried the barrister, ‘but you did not know + it at the time. What could Jimson be to you? Who was Jimson? Miss + Hazeltine, it cut me to the heart.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Really this seems to me to be very silly,’ returned Julia, with severe + decision. ‘You have behaved in the most extraordinary manner; you pretend + you are able to explain your conduct, and instead of doing so you begin to + attack me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am well aware of that,’ replied Gideon. ‘I—I will make a clean + breast of it. When you know all the circumstances you will be able to + excuse me. + </p> + <p> + And sitting down beside her on the deck, he poured forth his miserable + history. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, Mr Forsyth,’ she cried, when he had done, ‘I am—so—sorry! + wish I hadn’t laughed at you—only you know you really were so + exceedingly funny. But I wish I hadn’t, and I wouldn’t either if I had + only known.’ And she gave him her hand. + </p> + <p> + Gideon kept it in his own. ‘You do not think the worse of me for this?’ he + asked tenderly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Because you have been so silly and got into such dreadful trouble? you + poor boy, no!’ cried Julia; and, in the warmth of the moment, reached him + her other hand; ‘you may count on me,’ she added. + </p> + <p> + ‘Really?’ said Gideon. + </p> + <p> + ‘Really and really!’ replied the girl. + </p> + <p> + ‘I do then, and I will,’ cried the young man. ‘I admit the moment is not + well chosen; but I have no friends—to speak of.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No more have I,’ said Julia. ‘But don’t you think it’s perhaps time you + gave me back my hands?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘La ci darem la mano,’ said the barrister, ‘the merest moment more! I have + so few friends,’ he added. + </p> + <p> + ‘I thought it was considered such a bad account of a young man to have no + friends,’ observed Julia. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, but I have crowds of FRIENDS!’ cried Gideon. ‘That’s not what I mean. + I feel the moment is ill chosen; but O, Julia, if you could only see + yourself!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mr Forsyth—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t call me by that beastly name!’ cried the youth. ‘Call me Gideon!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, never that,’ from Julia. ‘Besides, we have known each other such a + short time.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not at all!’ protested Gideon. ‘We met at Bournemouth ever so long ago. I + never forgot you since. Say you never forgot me. Say you never forgot me, + and call me Gideon!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Isn’t this rather—a want of reserve about Jimson?’ enquired the + girl. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, I know I am an ass,’ cried the barrister, ‘and I don’t care a + halfpenny! I know I’m an ass, and you may laugh at me to your heart’s + delight.’ And as Julia’s lips opened with a smile, he once more dropped + into music. ‘There’s the Land of Cherry Isle!’ he sang, courting her with + his eyes. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s like an opera,’ said Julia, rather faintly. + </p> + <p> + ‘What should it be?’ said Gideon. ‘Am I not Jimson? It would be strange if + I did not serenade my love. O yes, I mean the word, my Julia; and I mean + to win you. I am in dreadful trouble, and I have not a penny of my own, + and I have cut the silliest figure; and yet I mean to win you, Julia. Look + at me, if you can, and tell me no!’ + </p> + <p> + She looked at him; and whatever her eyes may have told him, it is to be + supposed he took a pleasure in the message, for he read it a long while. + </p> + <p> + ‘And Uncle Ned will give us some money to go on upon in the meanwhile,’ he + said at last. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, I call that cool!’ said a cheerful voice at his elbow. + </p> + <p> + Gideon and Julia sprang apart with wonderful alacrity; the latter annoyed + to observe that although they had never moved since they sat down, they + were now quite close together; both presenting faces of a very heightened + colour to the eyes of Mr Edward Hugh Bloomfield. That gentleman, coming up + the river in his boat, had captured the truant canoe, and divining what + had happened, had thought to steal a march upon Miss Hazeltine at her + sketch. He had unexpectedly brought down two birds with one stone; and as + he looked upon the pair of flushed and breathless culprits, the pleasant + human instinct of the matchmaker softened his heart. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, I call that cool,’ he repeated; ‘you seem to count very securely + upon Uncle Ned. But look here, Gid, I thought I had told you to keep + away?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To keep away from Maidenhead,’ replied Gid. ‘But how should I expect to + find you here?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There is something in that,’ Mr Bloomfield admitted. ‘You see I thought + it better that even you should be ignorant of my address; those rascals, + the Finsburys, would have wormed it out of you. And just to put them off + the scent I hoisted these abominable colours. But that is not all, Gid; + you promised me to work, and here I find you playing the fool at Padwick.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Please, Mr Bloomfield, you must not be hard on Mr Forsyth,’ said Julia. + ‘Poor boy, he is in dreadful straits.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What’s this, Gid?’ enquired the uncle. ‘Have you been fighting? or is it + a bill?’ + </p> + <p> + These, in the opinion of the Squirradical, were the two misfortunes + incident to gentlemen; and indeed both were culled from his own career. He + had once put his name (as a matter of form) on a friend’s paper; it had + cost him a cool thousand; and the friend had gone about with the fear of + death upon him ever since, and never turned a corner without scouting in + front of him for Mr Bloomfield and the oaken staff. As for fighting, the + Squirradical was always on the brink of it; and once, when (in the + character of president of a Radical club) he had cleared out the hall of + his opponents, things had gone even further. Mr Holtum, the Conservative + candidate, who lay so long on the bed of sickness, was prepared to swear + to Mr Bloomfield. ‘I will swear to it in any court—it was the hand + of that brute that struck me down,’ he was reported to have said; and when + he was thought to be sinking, it was known that he had made an ante-mortem + statement in that sense. It was a cheerful day for the Squirradical when + Holtum was restored to his brewery. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s much worse than that,’ said Gideon; ‘a combination of circumstances + really providentially unjust—a—in fact, a syndicate of + murderers seem to have perceived my latent ability to rid them of the + traces of their crime. It’s a legal study after all, you see!’ And with + these words, Gideon, for the second time that day, began to describe the + adventures of the Broadwood Grand. + </p> + <p> + ‘I must write to The Times,’ cried Mr Bloomfield. + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you want to get me disbarred?’ asked Gideon. + </p> + <p> + ‘Disbarred! Come, it can’t be as bad as that,’ said his uncle. ‘It’s a + good, honest, Liberal Government that’s in, and they would certainly move + at my request. Thank God, the days of Tory jobbery are at an end.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It wouldn’t do, Uncle Ned,’ said Gideon. + </p> + <p> + ‘But you’re not mad enough,’ cried Mr Bloomfield, ‘to persist in trying to + dispose of it yourself?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There is no other path open to me,’ said Gideon. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s not common sense, and I will not hear of it,’ cried Mr Bloomfield. + ‘I command you, positively, Gid, to desist from this criminal + interference.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Very well, then, I hand it over to you,’ said Gideon, ‘and you can do + what you like with the dead body.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘God forbid!’ ejaculated the president of the Radical Club, ‘I’ll have + nothing to do with it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then you must allow me to do the best I can,’ returned his nephew. + ‘Believe me, I have a distinct talent for this sort of difficulty.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We might forward it to that pest-house, the Conservative Club,’ observed + Mr Bloomfield. ‘It might damage them in the eyes of their constituents; + and it could be profitably worked up in the local journal.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If you see any political capital in the thing,’ said Gideon, ‘you may + have it for me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, no, Gid—no, no, I thought you might. I will have no hand in the + thing. On reflection, it’s highly undesirable that either I or Miss + Hazeltine should linger here. We might be observed,’ said the president, + looking up and down the river; ‘and in my public position the consequences + would be painful for the party. And, at any rate, it’s dinner-time.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What?’ cried Gideon, plunging for his watch. ‘And so it is! Great heaven, + the piano should have been here hours ago!’ + </p> + <p> + Mr Bloomfield was clambering back into his boat; but at these words he + paused. + </p> + <p> + ‘I saw it arrive myself at the station; I hired a carrier man; he had a + round to make, but he was to be here by four at the latest,’ cried the + barrister. ‘No doubt the piano is open, and the body found.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You must fly at once,’ cried Mr Bloomfield, ‘it’s the only manly step.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But suppose it’s all right?’ wailed Gideon. ‘Suppose the piano comes, and + I am not here to receive it? I shall have hanged myself by my cowardice. + No, Uncle Ned, enquiries must be made in Padwick; I dare not go, of + course; but you may—you could hang about the police office, don’t + you see?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, Gid—no, my dear nephew,’ said Mr Bloomfield, with the voice of + one on the rack. ‘I regard you with the most sacred affection; and I thank + God I am an Englishman—and all that. But not—not the police, + Gid.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then you desert me?’ said Gideon. ‘Say it plainly.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Far from it! far from it!’ protested Mr Bloomfield. ‘I only propose + caution. Common sense, Gid, should always be an Englishman’s guide.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Will you let me speak?’ said Julia. ‘I think Gideon had better leave this + dreadful houseboat, and wait among the willows over there. If the piano + comes, then he could step out and take it in; and if the police come, he + could slip into our houseboat, and there needn’t be any more Jimson at + all. He could go to bed, and we could burn his clothes (couldn’t we?) in + the steam-launch; and then really it seems as if it would be all right. Mr + Bloomfield is so respectable, you know, and such a leading character, it + would be quite impossible even to fancy that he could be mixed up with + it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘This young lady has strong common sense,’ said the Squirradical. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, I don’t think I’m at all a fool,’ said Julia, with conviction. + </p> + <p> + ‘But what if neither of them come?’ asked Gideon; ‘what shall I do then?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why then,’ said she, ‘you had better go down to the village after dark; + and I can go with you, and then I am sure you could never be suspected; + and even if you were, I could tell them it was altogether a mistake.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I will not permit that—I will not suffer Miss Hazeltine to go,’ + cried Mr Bloomfield. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why?’ asked Julia. + </p> + <p> + Mr Bloomfield had not the least desire to tell her why, for it was simply + a craven fear of being drawn himself into the imbroglio; but with the + usual tactics of a man who is ashamed of himself, he took the high hand. + ‘God forbid, my dear Miss Hazeltine, that I should dictate to a lady on + the question of propriety—’ he began. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, is that all?’ interrupted Julia. ‘Then we must go all three.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Caught!’ thought the Squirradical. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. Positively the Last Appearance of the Broadwood Grand + </h2> + <p> + England is supposed to be unmusical; but without dwelling on the patronage + extended to the organ-grinder, without seeking to found any argument on + the prevalence of the Jew’s trump, there is surely one instrument that may + be said to be national in the fullest acceptance of the word. The herdboy + in the broom, already musical in the days of Father Chaucer, startles (and + perhaps pains) the lark with this exiguous pipe; and in the hands of the + skilled bricklayer, + </p> + <p> + ‘The thing becomes a trumpet, whence he blows’ + </p> + <p> + (as a general rule) either ‘The British Grenadiers’ or ‘Cherry Ripe’. The + latter air is indeed the shibboleth and diploma piece of the penny + whistler; I hazard a guess it was originally composed for this instrument. + It is singular enough that a man should be able to gain a livelihood, or + even to tide over a period of unemployment, by the display of his + proficiency upon the penny whistle; still more so, that the professional + should almost invariably confine himself to ‘Cherry Ripe’. But indeed, + singularities surround the subject, thick like blackberries. Why, for + instance, should the pipe be called a penny whistle? I think no one ever + bought it for a penny. Why should the alternative name be tin whistle? I + am grossly deceived if it be made of tin. Lastly, in what deaf catacomb, + in what earless desert, does the beginner pass the excruciating interval + of his apprenticeship? We have all heard people learning the piano, the + fiddle, and the cornet; but the young of the penny whistler (like that of + the salmon) is occult from observation; he is never heard until + proficient; and providence (perhaps alarmed by the works of Mr Mallock) + defends human hearing from his first attempts upon the upper octave. + </p> + <p> + A really noteworthy thing was taking place in a green lane, not far from + Padwick. On the bench of a carrier’s cart there sat a tow-headed, lanky, + modest-looking youth; the reins were on his lap; the whip lay behind him + in the interior of the cart; the horse proceeded without guidance or + encouragement; the carrier (or the carrier’s man), rapt into a higher + sphere than that of his daily occupations, his looks dwelling on the + skies, devoted himself wholly to a brand-new D penny whistle, whence he + diffidently endeavoured to elicit that pleasing melody ‘The Ploughboy’. To + any observant person who should have chanced to saunter in that lane, the + hour would have been thrilling. ‘Here at last,’ he would have said, ‘is + the beginner.’ + </p> + <p> + The tow-headed youth (whose name was Harker) had just encored himself for + the nineteenth time, when he was struck into the extreme of confusion by + the discovery that he was not alone. + </p> + <p> + ‘There you have it!’ cried a manly voice from the side of the road. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s as good as I want to hear. Perhaps a leetle oilier in the run,’ + the voice suggested, with meditative gusto. ‘Give it us again.’ + </p> + <p> + Harker glanced, from the depths of his humiliation, at the speaker. He + beheld a powerful, sun-brown, clean-shaven fellow, about forty years of + age, striding beside the cart with a non-commissioned military bearing, + and (as he strode) spinning in the air a cane. The fellow’s clothes were + very bad, but he looked clean and self-reliant. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m only a beginner,’ gasped the blushing Harker, ‘I didn’t think anybody + could hear me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, I like that!’ returned the other. ‘You’re a pretty old beginner. + Come, I’ll give you a lead myself. Give us a seat here beside you.’ + </p> + <p> + The next moment the military gentleman was perched on the cart, pipe in + hand. He gave the instrument a knowing rattle on the shaft, mouthed it, + appeared to commune for a moment with the muse, and dashed into ‘The girl + I left behind me’. He was a great, rather than a fine, performer; he + lacked the bird-like richness; he could scarce have extracted all the + honey out of ‘Cherry Ripe’; he did not fear—he even ostentatiously + displayed and seemed to revel in he shrillness of the instrument; but in + fire, speed, precision, evenness, and fluency; in linked agility of jimmy—a + technical expression, by your leave, answering to warblers on the bagpipe; + and perhaps, above all, in that inspiring side-glance of the eye, with + which he followed the effect and (as by a human appeal) eked out the + insufficiency of his performance: in these, the fellow stood without a + rival. Harker listened: ‘The girl I left behind me’ filled him with + despair; ‘The Soldier’s Joy’ carried him beyond jealousy into generous + enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + ‘Turn about,’ said the military gentleman, offering the pipe. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, not after you!’ cried Harker; ‘you’re a professional.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ said his companion; ‘an amatyure like yourself. That’s one style of + play, yours is the other, and I like it best. But I began when I was a + boy, you see, before my taste was formed. When you’re my age you’ll play + that thing like a cornet-a-piston. Give us that air again; how does it + go?’ and he affected to endeavour to recall ‘The Ploughboy’. + </p> + <p> + A timid, insane hope sprang in the breast of Harker. Was it possible? Was + there something in his playing? It had, indeed, seemed to him at times as + if he got a kind of a richness out of it. Was he a genius? Meantime the + military gentleman stumbled over the air. + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ said the unhappy Harker, ‘that’s not quite it. It goes this way—just + to show you.’ + </p> + <p> + And, taking the pipe between his lips, he sealed his doom. When he had + played the air, and then a second time, and a third; when the military + gentleman had tried it once more, and once more failed; when it became + clear to Harker that he, the blushing debutant, was actually giving a + lesson to this full-grown flutist—and the flutist under his care was + not very brilliantly progressing—how am I to tell what floods of + glory brightened the autumnal countryside; how, unless the reader were an + amateur himself, describe the heights of idiotic vanity to which the + carrier climbed? One significant fact shall paint the situation: + thenceforth it was Harker who played, and the military gentleman listened + and approved. + </p> + <p> + As he listened, however, he did not forget the habit of soldierly + precaution, looking both behind and before. He looked behind and computed + the value of the carrier’s load, divining the contents of the brown-paper + parcels and the portly hamper, and briefly setting down the grand piano in + the brand-new piano-case as ‘difficult to get rid of’. He looked before, + and spied at the corner of the green lane a little country public-house + embowered in roses. ‘I’ll have a shy at it,’ concluded the military + gentleman, and roundly proposed a glass. ‘Well, I’m not a drinking man,’ + said Harker. + </p> + <p> + ‘Look here, now,’ cut in the other, ‘I’ll tell you who I am: I’m + Colour-Sergeant Brand of the Blankth. That’ll tell you if I’m a drinking + man or not.’ It might and it might not, thus a Greek chorus would have + intervened, and gone on to point out how very far it fell short of telling + why the sergeant was tramping a country lane in tatters; or even to argue + that he must have pretermitted some while ago his labours for the general + defence, and (in the interval) possibly turned his attention to oakum. But + there was no Greek chorus present; and the man of war went on to contend + that drinking was one thing and a friendly glass another. + </p> + <p> + In the Blue Lion, which was the name of the country public-house, + Colour-Sergeant Brand introduced his new friend, Mr Harker, to a number of + ingenious mixtures, calculated to prevent the approaches of intoxication. + These he explained to be ‘rekisite’ in the service, so that a + self-respecting officer should always appear upon parade in a condition + honourable to his corps. The most efficacious of these devices was to lace + a pint of mild ale with twopenceworth of London gin. I am pleased to hand + in this recipe to the discerning reader, who may find it useful even in + civil station; for its effect upon Mr Harker was revolutionary. He must be + helped on board his own waggon, where he proceeded to display a spirit + entirely given over to mirth and music, alternately hooting with laughter, + to which the sergeant hastened to bear chorus, and incoherently tootling + on the pipe. The man of war, meantime, unostentatiously possessed himself + of the reins. It was plain he had a taste for the secluded beauties of an + English landscape; for the cart, although it wandered under his guidance + for some time, was never observed to issue on the dusty highway, + journeying between hedge and ditch, and for the most part under + overhanging boughs. It was plain, besides, he had an eye to the true + interests of Mr Harker; for though the cart drew up more than once at the + doors of public-houses, it was only the sergeant who set foot to ground, + and, being equipped himself with a quart bottle, once more proceeded on + his rural drive. + </p> + <p> + To give any idea of the complexity of the sergeant’s course, a map of that + part of Middlesex would be required, and my publisher is averse from the + expense. Suffice it, that a little after the night had closed, the cart + was brought to a standstill in a woody road; where the sergeant lifted + from among the parcels, and tenderly deposited upon the wayside, the + inanimate form of Harker. + </p> + <p> + ‘If you come-to before daylight,’ thought the sergeant, ‘I shall be + surprised for one.’ + </p> + <p> + From the various pockets of the slumbering carrier he gently collected the + sum of seventeen shillings and eightpence sterling; and, getting once more + into the cart, drove thoughtfully away. + </p> + <p> + ‘If I was exactly sure of where I was, it would be a good job,’ he + reflected. ‘Anyway, here’s a corner.’ + </p> + <p> + He turned it, and found himself upon the riverside. A little above him the + lights of a houseboat shone cheerfully; and already close at hand, so + close that it was impossible to avoid their notice, three persons, a lady + and two gentlemen, were deliberately drawing near. The sergeant put his + trust in the convenient darkness of the night, and drove on to meet them. + One of the gentlemen, who was of a portly figure, walked in the midst of + the fairway, and presently held up a staff by way of signal. + </p> + <p> + ‘My man, have you seen anything of a carrier’s cart?’ he cried. + </p> + <p> + Dark as it was, it seemed to the sergeant as though the slimmer of the two + gentlemen had made a motion to prevent the other speaking, and (finding + himself too late) had skipped aside with some alacrity. At another season, + Sergeant Brand would have paid more attention to the fact; but he was then + immersed in the perils of his own predicament. + </p> + <p> + ‘A carrier’s cart?’ said he, with a perceptible uncertainty of voice. ‘No, + sir.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah!’ said the portly gentleman, and stood aside to let the sergeant pass. + The lady appeared to bend forward and study the cart with every mark of + sharpened curiosity, the slimmer gentleman still keeping in the rear. + </p> + <p> + ‘I wonder what the devil they would be at,’ thought Sergeant Brand; and, + looking fearfully back, he saw the trio standing together in the midst of + the way, like folk consulting. The bravest of military heroes are not + always equal to themselves as to their reputation; and fear, on some + singular provocation, will find a lodgment in the most unfamiliar bosom. + The word ‘detective’ might have been heard to gurgle in the sergeant’s + throat; and vigorously applying the whip, he fled up the riverside road to + Great Haverham, at the gallop of the carrier’s horse. The lights of the + houseboat flashed upon the flying waggon as it passed; the beat of hoofs + and the rattle of the vehicle gradually coalesced and died away; and + presently, to the trio on the riverside, silence had redescended. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s the most extraordinary thing,’ cried the slimmer of the two + gentlemen, ‘but that’s the cart.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And I know I saw a piano,’ said the girl. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, it’s the cart, certainly; and the extraordinary thing is, it’s not the + man,’ added the first. + </p> + <p> + ‘It must be the man, Gid, it must be,’ said the portly one. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, then, why is he running away?’ asked Gideon. + </p> + <p> + ‘His horse bolted, I suppose,’ said the Squirradical. + </p> + <p> + ‘Nonsense! I heard the whip going like a flail,’ said Gideon. ‘It simply + defies the human reason.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll tell you,’ broke in the girl, ‘he came round that corner. Suppose we + went and—what do you call it in books?—followed his trail? + There may be a house there, or somebody who saw him, or something.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, suppose we did, for the fun of the thing,’ said Gideon. + </p> + <p> + The fun of the thing (it would appear) consisted in the extremely close + juxtaposition of himself and Miss Hazeltine. To Uncle Ned, who was + excluded from these simple pleasures, the excursion appeared hopeless from + the first; and when a fresh perspective of darkness opened up, dimly + contained between park palings on the one side and a hedge and ditch upon + the other, the whole without the smallest signal of human habitation, the + Squirradical drew up. + </p> + <p> + ‘This is a wild-goose chase,’ said he. + </p> + <p> + With the cessation of the footfalls, another sound smote upon their ears. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, what’s that?’ cried Julia. + </p> + <p> + ‘I can’t think,’ said Gideon. + </p> + <p> + The Squirradical had his stick presented like a sword. ‘Gid,’ he began, + ‘Gid, I—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O Mr Forsyth!’ cried the girl. ‘O don’t go forward, you don’t know what + it might be—it might be something perfectly horrid.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It may be the devil itself,’ said Gideon, disengaging himself, ‘but I am + going to see it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t be rash, Gid,’ cried his uncle. + </p> + <p> + The barrister drew near to the sound, which was certainly of a portentous + character. In quality it appeared to blend the strains of the cow, the + fog-horn, and the mosquito; and the startling manner of its enunciation + added incalculably to its terrors. A dark object, not unlike the human + form divine, appeared on the brink of the ditch. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s a man,’ said Gideon, ‘it’s only a man; he seems to be asleep and + snoring. Hullo,’ he added, a moment after, ‘there must be something wrong + with him, he won’t waken.’ + </p> + <p> + Gideon produced his vestas, struck one, and by its light recognized the + tow head of Harker. + </p> + <p> + ‘This is the man,’ said he, ‘as drunk as Belial. I see the whole story’; + and to his two companions, who had now ventured to rejoin him, he set + forth a theory of the divorce between the carrier and his cart, which was + not unlike the truth. + </p> + <p> + ‘Drunken brute!’ said Uncle Ned, ‘let’s get him to a pump and give him + what he deserves.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not at all!’ said Gideon. ‘It is highly undesirable he should see us + together; and really, do you know, I am very much obliged to him, for this + is about the luckiest thing that could have possibly occurred. It seems to + me—Uncle Ned, I declare to heaven it seems to me—I’m clear of + it!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Clear of what?’ asked the Squirradical. + </p> + <p> + ‘The whole affair!’ cried Gideon. ‘That man has been ass enough to steal + the cart and the dead body; what he hopes to do with it I neither know nor + care. My hands are free, Jimson ceases; down with Jimson. Shake hands with + me, Uncle Ned—Julia, darling girl, Julia, I—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Gideon, Gideon!’ said his uncle. ‘O, it’s all right, uncle, when we’re + going to be married so soon,’ said Gideon. ‘You know you said so yourself + in the houseboat.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Did I?’ said Uncle Ned; ‘I am certain I said no such thing.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Appeal to him, tell him he did, get on his soft side,’ cried Gideon. + ‘He’s a real brick if you get on his soft side.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Dear Mr Bloomfield,’ said Julia, ‘I know Gideon will be such a very good + boy, and he has promised me to do such a lot of law, and I will see that + he does too. And you know it is so very steadying to young men, everybody + admits that; though, of course, I know I have no money, Mr Bloomfield,’ + she added. + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear young lady, as this rapscallion told you today on the boat, Uncle + Ned has plenty,’ said the Squirradical, ‘and I can never forget that you + have been shamefully defrauded. So as there’s nobody looking, you had + better give your Uncle Ned a kiss. There, you rogue,’ resumed Mr + Bloomfield, when the ceremony had been daintily performed, ‘this very + pretty young lady is yours, and a vast deal more than you deserve. But + now, let us get back to the houseboat, get up steam on the launch, and + away back to town.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s the thing!’ cried Gideon; ‘and tomorrow there will be no + houseboat, and no Jimson, and no carrier’s cart, and no piano; and when + Harker awakes on the ditchside, he may tell himself the whole affair has + been a dream.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Aha!’ said Uncle Ned, ‘but there’s another man who will have a different + awakening. That fellow in the cart will find he has been too clever by + half.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Uncle Ned and Julia,’ said Gideon, ‘I am as happy as the King of Tartary, + my heart is like a threepenny-bit, my heels are like feathers; I am out of + all my troubles, Julia’s hand is in mine. Is this a time for anything but + handsome sentiments? Why, there’s not room in me for anything that’s not + angelic! And when I think of that poor unhappy devil in the cart, I stand + here in the night and cry with a single heart God help him!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Amen,’ said Uncle Ned. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. The Tribulations of Morris: Part the Second + </h2> + <p> + In a really polite age of literature I would have scorned to cast my eye + again on the contortions of Morris. But the study is in the spirit of the + day; it presents, besides, features of a high, almost a repulsive, + morality; and if it should prove the means of preventing any respectable + and inexperienced gentleman from plunging light-heartedly into crime, even + political crime, this work will not have been penned in vain. + </p> + <p> + He rose on the morrow of his night with Michael, rose from the leaden + slumber of distress, to find his hand tremulous, his eyes closed with + rheum, his throat parched, and his digestion obviously paralysed. ‘Lord + knows it’s not from eating!’ Morris thought; and as he dressed he + reconsidered his position under several heads. Nothing will so well depict + the troubled seas in which he was now voyaging as a review of these + various anxieties. I have thrown them (for the reader’s convenience) into + a certain order; but in the mind of one poor human equal they whirled + together like the dust of hurricanes. With the same obliging + preoccupation, I have put a name to each of his distresses; and it will be + observed with pity that every individual item would have graced and + commended the cover of a railway novel. + </p> + <p> + Anxiety the First: Where is the Body? or, The Mystery of Bent Pitman. It + was now manifestly plain that Bent Pitman (as was to be looked for from + his ominous appellation) belonged to the darker order of the criminal + class. An honest man would not have cashed the bill; a humane man would + not have accepted in silence the tragic contents of the water-butt; a man, + who was not already up to the hilts in gore, would have lacked the means + of secretly disposing them. This process of reasoning left a horrid image + of the monster, Pitman. Doubtless he had long ago disposed of the body—dropping + it through a trapdoor in his back kitchen, Morris supposed, with some hazy + recollection of a picture in a penny dreadful; and doubtless the man now + lived in wanton splendour on the proceeds of the bill. So far, all was + peace. But with the profligate habits of a man like Bent Pitman (who was + no doubt a hunchback in the bargain), eight hundred pounds could be easily + melted in a week. When they were gone, what would he be likely to do next? + A hell-like voice in Morris’s own bosom gave the answer: ‘Blackmail me.’ + </p> + <p> + Anxiety the Second: The Fraud of the Tontine; or, Is my Uncle dead? This, + on which all Morris’s hopes depended, was yet a question. He had tried to + bully Teena; he had tried to bribe her; and nothing came of it. He had his + moral conviction still; but you cannot blackmail a sharp lawyer on a moral + conviction. And besides, since his interview with Michael, the idea wore a + less attractive countenance. Was Michael the man to be blackmailed? and + was Morris the man to do it? Grave considerations. ‘It’s not that I’m + afraid of him,’ Morris so far condescended to reassure himself; ‘but I + must be very certain of my ground, and the deuce of it is, I see no way. + How unlike is life to novels! I wouldn’t have even begun this business in + a novel, but what I’d have met a dark, slouching fellow in the Oxford + Road, who’d have become my accomplice, and known all about how to do it, + and probably broken into Michael’s house at night and found nothing but a + waxwork image; and then blackmailed or murdered me. But here, in real + life, I might walk the streets till I dropped dead, and none of the + criminal classes would look near me. Though, to be sure, there is always + Pitman,’ he added thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + Anxiety the Third: The Cottage at Browndean; or, The Underpaid Accomplice. + For he had an accomplice, and that accomplice was blooming unseen in a + damp cottage in Hampshire with empty pockets. What could be done about + that? He really ought to have sent him something; if it was only a + post-office order for five bob, enough to prove that he was kept in mind, + enough to keep him in hope, beer, and tobacco. ‘But what would you have?’ + thought Morris; and ruefully poured into his hand a half-crown, a florin, + and eightpence in small change. For a man in Morris’s position, at war + with all society, and conducting, with the hand of inexperience, a widely + ramified intrigue, the sum was already a derision. John would have to be + doing; no mistake of that. ‘But then,’ asked the hell-like voice, ‘how + long is John likely to stand it?’ + </p> + <p> + Anxiety the Fourth: The Leather Business; or, The Shutters at Last: a Tale + of the City. On this head Morris had no news. He had not yet dared to + visit the family concern; yet he knew he must delay no longer, and if + anything had been wanted to sharpen this conviction, Michael’s references + of the night before rang ambiguously in his ear. Well and good. To visit + the city might be indispensable; but what was he to do when he was there? + He had no right to sign in his own name; and, with all the will in the + world, he seemed to lack the art of signing with his uncle’s. Under these + circumstances, Morris could do nothing to procrastinate the crash; and, + when it came, when prying eyes began to be applied to every joint of his + behaviour, two questions could not fail to be addressed, sooner or later, + to a speechless and perspiring insolvent. Where is Mr Joseph Finsbury? and + how about your visit to the bank? Questions, how easy to put!—ye + gods, how impossible to answer! The man to whom they should be addressed + went certainly to gaol, and—eh! what was this?—possibly to the + gallows. Morris was trying to shave when this idea struck him, and he laid + the razor down. Here (in Michael’s words) was the total disappearance of a + valuable uncle; here was a time of inexplicable conduct on the part of a + nephew who had been in bad blood with the old man any time these seven + years; what a chance for a judicial blunder! ‘But no,’ thought Morris, + ‘they cannot, they dare not, make it murder. Not that. But honestly, and + speaking as a man to a man, I don’t see any other crime in the calendar + (except arson) that I don’t seem somehow to have committed. And yet I’m a + perfectly respectable man, and wished nothing but my due. Law is a pretty + business.’ + </p> + <p> + With this conclusion firmly seated in his mind, Morris Finsbury descended + to the hall of the house in John Street, still half-shaven. There was a + letter in the box; he knew the handwriting: John at last! + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, I think I might have been spared this,’ he said bitterly, and tore + it open. + </p> + <p> + Dear Morris [it ran], what the dickens do you mean by it? I’m in an awful + hole down here; I have to go on tick, and the parties on the spot don’t + cotton to the idea; they couldn’t, because it is so plain I’m in a stait + of Destitution. I’ve got no bedclothes, think of that, I must have coins, + the hole thing’s a Mockry, I wont stand it, nobody would. I would have + come away before, only I have no money for the railway fare. Don’t be a + lunatic, Morris, you don’t seem to understand my dredful situation. I have + to get the stamp on tick. A fact. + </p> + <p> + —Ever your affte. Brother, + </p> + <p> + J. FINSBURY + </p> + <p> + ‘Can’t even spell!’ Morris reflected, as he crammed the letter in his + pocket, and left the house. ‘What can I do for him? I have to go to the + expense of a barber, I’m so shattered! How can I send anybody coins? It’s + hard lines, I daresay; but does he think I’m living on hot muffins? One + comfort,’ was his grim reflection, ‘he can’t cut and run—he’s got to + stay; he’s as helpless as the dead.’ And then he broke forth again: + ‘Complains, does he? and he’s never even heard of Bent Pitman! If he had + what I have on my mind, he might complain with a good grace.’ + </p> + <p> + But these were not honest arguments, or not wholly honest; there was a + struggle in the mind of Morris; he could not disguise from himself that + his brother John was miserably situated at Browndean, without news, + without money, without bedclothes, without society or any entertainment; + and by the time he had been shaved and picked a hasty breakfast at a + coffee tavern, Morris had arrived at a compromise. + </p> + <p> + ‘Poor Johnny,’ he said to himself, ‘he’s in an awful box! I can’t send him + coins, but I’ll tell you what I’ll do: I’ll send him the Pink Un—it’ll + cheer John up; and besides, it’ll do his credit good getting anything by + post.’ + </p> + <p> + Accordingly, on his way to the leather business, whither he proceeded + (according to his thrifty habit) on foot, Morris purchased and dispatched + a single copy of that enlivening periodical, to which (in a sudden pang of + remorse) he added at random the Athenaeum, the Revivalist, and the Penny + Pictorial Weekly. So there was John set up with literature, and Morris had + laid balm upon his conscience. + </p> + <p> + As if to reward him, he was received in his place of business with good + news. Orders were pouring in; there was a run on some of the back stock, + and the figure had gone up. Even the manager appeared elated. As for + Morris, who had almost forgotten the meaning of good news, he longed to + sob like a little child; he could have caught the manager (a pallid man + with startled eyebrows) to his bosom; he could have found it in his + generosity to give a cheque (for a small sum) to every clerk in the + counting-house. As he sat and opened his letters a chorus of airy + vocalists sang in his brain, to most exquisite music, ‘This whole concern + may be profitable yet, profitable yet, profitable yet.’ + </p> + <p> + To him, in this sunny moment of relief, enter a Mr Rodgerson, a creditor, + but not one who was expected to be pressing, for his connection with the + firm was old and regular. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, Finsbury,’ said he, not without embarrassment, ‘it’s of course only + fair to let you know—the fact is, money is a trifle tight—I + have some paper out—for that matter, every one’s complaining—and + in short—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It has never been our habit, Rodgerson,’ said Morris, turning pale. ‘But + give me time to turn round, and I’ll see what I can do; I daresay we can + let you have something to account.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, that’s just where is,’ replied Rodgerson. ‘I was tempted; I’ve let + the credit out of MY hands.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Out of your hands?’ repeated Morris. ‘That’s playing rather fast and + loose with us, Mr Rodgerson.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, I got cent. for cent. for it,’ said the other, ‘on the nail, in a + certified cheque.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Cent. for cent.!’ cried Morris. ‘Why, that’s something like thirty per + cent. bonus; a singular thing! Who’s the party?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t know the man,’ was the reply. ‘Name of Moss.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A Jew,’ Morris reflected, when his visitor was gone. And what could a Jew + want with a claim of—he verified the amount in the books—a + claim of three five eight, nineteen, ten, against the house of Finsbury? + And why should he pay cent. for cent.? The figure proved the loyalty of + Rodgerson—even Morris admitted that. But it proved unfortunately + something else—the eagerness of Moss. The claim must have been + wanted instantly, for that day, for that morning even. Why? The mystery of + Moss promised to be a fit pendant to the mystery of Pitman. ‘And just when + all was looking well too!’ cried Morris, smiting his hand upon the desk. + And almost at the same moment Mr Moss was announced. + </p> + <p> + Mr Moss was a radiant Hebrew, brutally handsome, and offensively polite. + He was acting, it appeared, for a third party; he understood nothing of + the circumstances; his client desired to have his position regularized; + but he would accept an antedated cheque—antedated by two months, if + Mr Finsbury chose. + </p> + <p> + ‘But I don’t understand this,’ said Morris. ‘What made you pay cent. per + cent. for it today?’ + </p> + <p> + Mr Moss had no idea; only his orders. + </p> + <p> + ‘The whole thing is thoroughly irregular,’ said Morris. ‘It is not the + custom of the trade to settle at this time of the year. What are your + instructions if I refuse?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am to see Mr Joseph Finsbury, the head of the firm,’ said Mr Moss. ‘I + was directed to insist on that; it was implied you had no status here—the + expressions are not mine.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You cannot see Mr Joseph; he is unwell,’ said Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘In that case I was to place the matter in the hands of a lawyer. Let me + see,’ said Mr Moss, opening a pocket-book with, perhaps, suspicious care, + at the right place—‘Yes—of Mr Michael Finsbury. A relation, + perhaps? In that case, I presume, the matter will be pleasantly arranged.’ + </p> + <p> + To pass into the hands of Michael was too much for Morris. He struck his + colours. A cheque at two months was nothing, after all. In two months he + would probably be dead, or in a gaol at any rate. He bade the manager give + Mr Moss a chair and the paper. ‘I’m going over to get a cheque signed by + Mr Finsbury,’ said he, ‘who is lying ill at John Street.’ + </p> + <p> + A cab there and a cab back; here were inroads on his wretched capital! He + counted the cost; when he was done with Mr Moss he would be left with + twelvepence-halfpenny in the world. What was even worse, he had now been + forced to bring his uncle up to Bloomsbury. ‘No use for poor Johnny in + Hampshire now,’ he reflected. ‘And how the farce is to be kept up + completely passes me. At Browndean it was just possible; in Bloomsbury it + seems beyond human ingenuity—though I suppose it’s what Michael + does. But then he has accomplices—that Scotsman and the whole gang. + Ah, if I had accomplices!’ + </p> + <p> + Necessity is the mother of the arts. Under a spur so immediate, Morris + surprised himself by the neatness and dispatch of his new forgery, and + within three-fourths of an hour had handed it to Mr Moss. + </p> + <p> + ‘That is very satisfactory,’ observed that gentleman, rising. ‘I was to + tell you it will not be presented, but you had better take care.’ + </p> + <p> + The room swam round Morris. ‘What—what’s that?’ he cried, grasping + the table. He was miserably conscious the next moment of his shrill tongue + and ashen face. ‘What do you mean—it will not be presented? Why am I + to take care? What is all this mummery?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have no idea, Mr Finsbury,’ replied the smiling Hebrew. ‘It was a + message I was to deliver. The expressions were put into my mouth.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What is your client’s name?’ asked Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘That is a secret for the moment,’ answered Mr Moss. Morris bent toward + him. ‘It’s not the bank?’ he asked hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + ‘I have no authority to say more, Mr Finsbury,’ returned Mr Moss. ‘I will + wish you a good morning, if you please.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Wish me a good morning!’ thought Morris; and the next moment, seizing his + hat, he fled from his place of business like a madman. Three streets away + he stopped and groaned. ‘Lord! I should have borrowed from the manager!’ + he cried. ‘But it’s too late now; it would look dicky to go back; I’m + penniless—simply penniless—like the unemployed.’ + </p> + <p> + He went home and sat in the dismantled dining-room with his head in his + hands. Newton never thought harder than this victim of circumstances, and + yet no clearness came. ‘It may be a defect in my intelligence,’ he cried, + rising to his feet, ‘but I cannot see that I am fairly used. The bad luck + I’ve had is a thing to write to The Times about; it’s enough to breed a + revolution. And the plain English of the whole thing is that I must have + money at once. I’m done with all morality now; I’m long past that stage; + money I must have, and the only chance I see is Bent Pitman. Bent Pitman + is a criminal, and therefore his position’s weak. He must have some of + that eight hundred left; if he has I’ll force him to go shares; and even + if he hasn’t, I’ll tell him the tontine affair, and with a desperate man + like Pitman at my back, it’ll be strange if I don’t succeed.’ + </p> + <p> + Well and good. But how to lay hands upon Bent Pitman, except by + advertisement, was not so clear. And even so, in what terms to ask a + meeting? on what grounds? and where? Not at John Street, for it would + never do to let a man like Bent Pitman know your real address; nor yet at + Pitman’s house, some dreadful place in Holloway, with a trapdoor in the + back kitchen; a house which you might enter in a light summer overcoat and + varnished boots, to come forth again piecemeal in a market-basket. That + was the drawback of a really efficient accomplice, Morris felt, not + without a shudder. ‘I never dreamed I should come to actually covet such + society,’ he thought. And then a brilliant idea struck him. Waterloo + Station, a public place, yet at certain hours of the day a solitary; a + place, besides, the very name of which must knock upon the heart of + Pitman, and at once suggest a knowledge of the latest of his guilty + secrets. Morris took a piece of paper and sketched his advertisement. + </p> + <p> + WILLIAM BENT PITMAN, if this should meet the eye of, he will hear of + SOMETHING TO HIS ADVANTAGE on the far end of the main line departure + platform, Waterloo Station, 2 to 4 P.M., Sunday next. + </p> + <p> + Morris reperused this literary trifle with approbation. ‘Terse,’ he + reflected. ‘Something to his advantage is not strictly true; but it’s + taking and original, and a man is not on oath in an advertisement. All + that I require now is the ready cash for my own meals and for the + advertisement, and—no, I can’t lavish money upon John, but I’ll give + him some more papers. How to raise the wind?’ + </p> + <p> + He approached his cabinet of signets, and the collector suddenly revolted + in his blood. ‘I will not!’ he cried; ‘nothing shall induce me to massacre + my collection—rather theft!’ And dashing upstairs to the + drawing-room, he helped himself to a few of his uncle’s curiosities: a + pair of Turkish babooshes, a Smyrna fan, a water-cooler, a musket + guaranteed to have been seized from an Ephesian bandit, and a pocketful of + curious but incomplete seashells. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. William Bent Pitman Hears of Something to his Advantage + </h2> + <p> + On the morning of Sunday, William Dent Pitman rose at his usual hour, + although with something more than the usual reluctance. The day before (it + should be explained) an addition had been made to his family in the person + of a lodger. Michael Finsbury had acted sponsor in the business, and + guaranteed the weekly bill; on the other hand, no doubt with a spice of + his prevailing jocularity, he had drawn a depressing portrait of the + lodger’s character. Mr Pitman had been led to understand his guest was not + good company; he had approached the gentleman with fear, and had rejoiced + to find himself the entertainer of an angel. At tea he had been vastly + pleased; till hard on one in the morning he had sat entranced by eloquence + and progressively fortified with information in the studio; and now, as he + reviewed over his toilet the harmless pleasures of the evening, the future + smiled upon him with revived attractions. ‘Mr Finsbury is indeed an + acquisition,’ he remarked to himself; and as he entered the little + parlour, where the table was already laid for breakfast, the cordiality of + his greeting would have befitted an acquaintanceship already old. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am delighted to see you, sir’—these were his expressions—‘and + I trust you have slept well.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Accustomed as I have been for so long to a life of almost perpetual + change,’ replied the guest, ‘the disturbance so often complained of by the + more sedentary, as attending their first night in (what is called) a new + bed, is a complaint from which I am entirely free.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am delighted to hear it,’ said the drawing-master warmly. ‘But I see I + have interrupted you over the paper.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The Sunday paper is one of the features of the age,’ said Mr Finsbury. + ‘In America, I am told, it supersedes all other literature, the bone and + sinew of the nation finding their requirements catered for; hundreds of + columns will be occupied with interesting details of the world’s doings, + such as water-spouts, elopements, conflagrations, and public + entertainments; there is a corner for politics, ladies’ work, chess, + religion, and even literature; and a few spicy editorials serve to direct + the course of public thought. It is difficult to estimate the part played + by such enormous and miscellaneous repositories in the education of the + people. But this (though interesting in itself) partakes of the nature of + a digression; and what I was about to ask you was this: Are you yourself a + student of the daily press?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There is not much in the papers to interest an artist,’ returned Pitman. + </p> + <p> + ‘In that case,’ resumed Joseph, ‘an advertisement which has appeared the + last two days in various journals, and reappears this morning, may + possibly have failed to catch your eye. The name, with a trifling + variation, bears a strong resemblance to your own. Ah, here it is. If you + please, I will read it to you: + </p> + <p> + WILIAM BENT PITMAN, if this should meet the eye of, he will hear of + SOMETHING TO HIS ADVANTAGE at the far end of the main line departure + platform, Waterloo Station, 2 to 4 P.M. today. + </p> + <p> + ‘Is that in print?’ cried Pitman. ‘Let me see it! Bent? It must be Dent! + SOMETHING TO MY ADVANTAGE? Mr Finsbury, excuse me offering a word of + caution; I am aware how strangely this must sound in your ears, but there + are domestic reasons why this little circumstance might perhaps be better + kept between ourselves. Mrs Pitman—my dear Sir, I assure you there + is nothing dishonourable in my secrecy; the reasons are domestic, merely + domestic; and I may set your conscience at rest when I assure you all the + circumstances are known to our common friend, your excellent nephew, Mr + Michael, who has not withdrawn from me his esteem.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A word is enough, Mr Pitman,’ said Joseph, with one of his Oriental + reverences. + </p> + <p> + Half an hour later, the drawing-master found Michael in bed and reading a + book, the picture of good-humour and repose. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hillo, Pitman,’ he said, laying down his book, ‘what brings you here at + this inclement hour? Ought to be in church, my boy!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have little thought of church today, Mr Finsbury,’ said the + drawing-master. ‘I am on the brink of something new, Sir.’ And he + presented the advertisement. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, what is this?’ cried Michael, sitting suddenly up. He studied it for + half a minute with a frown. ‘Pitman, I don’t care about this document a + particle,’ said he. + </p> + <p> + ‘It will have to be attended to, however,’ said Pitman. + </p> + <p> + ‘I thought you’d had enough of Waterloo,’ returned the lawyer. ‘Have you + started a morbid craving? You’ve never been yourself anyway since you lost + that beard. I believe now it was where you kept your senses.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mr Finsbury,’ said the drawing-master, ‘I have tried to reason this + matter out, and, with your permission, I should like to lay before you the + results.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Fire away,’ said Michael; ‘but please, Pitman, remember it’s Sunday, and + let’s have no bad language.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There are three views open to us,’ began Pitman. ‘First this may be + connected with the barrel; second, it may be connected with Mr + Semitopolis’s statue; and third, it may be from my wife’s brother, who + went to Australia. In the first case, which is of course possible, I + confess the matter would be best allowed to drop.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The court is with you there, Brother Pitman,’ said Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘In the second,’ continued the other, ‘it is plainly my duty to leave no + stone unturned for the recovery of the lost antique.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear fellow, Semitopolis has come down like a trump; he has pocketed + the loss and left you the profit. What more would you have?’ enquired the + lawyer. + </p> + <p> + ‘I conceive, sir, under correction, that Mr Semitopolis’s generosity binds + me to even greater exertion,’ said the drawing-master. ‘The whole business + was unfortunate; it was—I need not disguise it from you—it was + illegal from the first: the more reason that I should try to behave like a + gentleman,’ concluded Pitman, flushing. + </p> + <p> + ‘I have nothing to say to that,’ returned the lawyer. ‘I have sometimes + thought I should like to try to behave like a gentleman myself; only it’s + such a one-sided business, with the world and the legal profession as they + are.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then, in the third,’ resumed the drawing-master, ‘if it’s Uncle Tim, of + course, our fortune’s made.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s not Uncle Tim, though,’ said the lawyer. + </p> + <p> + ‘Have you observed that very remarkable expression: SOMETHING TO HIS + ADVANTAGE?’ enquired Pitman shrewdly. + </p> + <p> + ‘You innocent mutton,’ said Michael, ‘it’s the seediest commonplace in the + English language, and only proves the advertiser is an ass. Let me + demolish your house of cards for you at once. Would Uncle Tim make that + blunder in your name?—in itself, the blunder is delicious, a huge + improvement on the gross reality, and I mean to adopt it in the future; + but is it like Uncle Tim?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, it’s not like him,’ Pitman admitted. ‘But his mind may have become + unhinged at Ballarat.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If you come to that, Pitman,’ said Michael, ‘the advertiser may be Queen + Victoria, fired with the desire to make a duke of you. I put it to + yourself if that’s probable; and yet it’s not against the laws of nature. + But we sit here to consider probabilities; and with your genteel + permission, I eliminate her Majesty and Uncle Tim on the threshold. To + proceed, we have your second idea, that this has some connection with the + statue. Possible; but in that case who is the advertiser? Not Ricardi, for + he knows your address; not the person who got the box, for he doesn’t know + your name. The vanman, I hear you suggest, in a lucid interval. He might + have got your name, and got it incorrectly, at the station; and he might + have failed to get your address. I grant the vanman. But a question: Do + you really wish to meet the vanman?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why should I not?’ asked Pitman. + </p> + <p> + ‘If he wants to meet you,’ replied Michael, ‘observe this: it is because + he has found his address-book, has been to the house that got the statue, + and-mark my words!—is moving at the instigation of the murderer.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I should be very sorry to think so,’ said Pitman; ‘but I still consider + it my duty to Mr Sernitopolis. . .’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Pitman,’ interrupted Michael, ‘this will not do. Don’t seek to impose on + your legal adviser; don’t try to pass yourself off for the Duke of + Wellington, for that is not your line. Come, I wager a dinner I can read + your thoughts. You still believe it’s Uncle Tim.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mr Finsbury,’ said the drawing-master, colouring, ‘you are not a man in + narrow circumstances, and you have no family. Guendolen is growing up, a + very promising girl—she was confirmed this year; and I think you + will be able to enter into my feelings as a parent when I tell you she is + quite ignorant of dancing. The boys are at the board school, which is all + very well in its way; at least, I am the last man in the world to + criticize the institutions of my native land. But I had fondly hoped that + Harold might become a professional musician; and little Otho shows a quite + remarkable vocation for the Church. I am not exactly an ambitious man...’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, well,’ interrupted Michael. ‘Be explicit; you think it’s Uncle + Tim?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It might be Uncle Tim,’ insisted Pitman, ‘and if it were, and I neglected + the occasion, how could I ever look my children in the face? I do not + refer to Mrs Pitman. . .’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, you never do,’ said Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘. . . but in the case of her own brother returning from Ballarat. . .’ + continued Pitman. + </p> + <p> + ‘. . . with his mind unhinged,’ put in the lawyer. + </p> + <p> + ‘. . . returning from Ballarat with a large fortune, her impatience may be + more easily imagined than described,’ concluded Pitman. + </p> + <p> + ‘All right,’ said Michael, ‘be it so. And what do you propose to do?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am going to Waterloo,’ said Pitman, ‘in disguise.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘All by your little self?’ enquired the lawyer. ‘Well, I hope you think it + safe. Mind and send me word from the police cells.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, Mr Finsbury, I had ventured to hope—perhaps you might be induced + to—to make one of us,’ faltered Pitman. + </p> + <p> + ‘Disguise myself on Sunday?’ cried Michael. ‘How little you understand my + principles!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mr Finsbury, I have no means of showing you my gratitude; but let me ask + you one question,’ said Pitman. ‘If I were a very rich client, would you + not take the risk?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Diamond, Diamond, you know not what you do!’ cried Michael. ‘Why, man, do + you suppose I make a practice of cutting about London with my clients in + disguise? Do you suppose money would induce me to touch this business with + a stick? I give you my word of honour, it would not. But I own I have a + real curiosity to see how you conduct this interview—that tempts me; + it tempts me, Pitman, more than gold—it should be exquisitely rich.’ + And suddenly Michael laughed. ‘Well, Pitman,’ said he, ‘have all the truck + ready in the studio. I’ll go.’ + </p> + <p> + About twenty minutes after two, on this eventful day, the vast and gloomy + shed of Waterloo lay, like the temple of a dead religion, silent and + deserted. Here and there at one of the platforms, a train lay becalmed; + here and there a wandering footfall echoed; the cab-horses outside stamped + with startling reverberations on the stones; or from the neighbouring + wilderness of railway an engine snorted forth a whistle. The main-line + departure platform slumbered like the rest; the booking-hutches closed; + the backs of Mr Haggard’s novels, with which upon a weekday the bookstall + shines emblazoned, discreetly hidden behind dingy shutters; the rare + officials, undisguisedly somnambulant; and the customary loiterers, even + to the middle-aged woman with the ulster and the handbag, fled to more + congenial scenes. As in the inmost dells of some small tropic island the + throbbing of the ocean lingers, so here a faint pervading hum and + trepidation told in every corner of surrounding London. + </p> + <p> + At the hour already named, persons acquainted with John Dickson, of + Ballarat, and Ezra Thomas, of the United States of America, would have + been cheered to behold them enter through the booking-office. + </p> + <p> + ‘What names are we to take?’ enquired the latter, anxiously adjusting the + window-glass spectacles which he had been suffered on this occasion to + assume. + </p> + <p> + ‘There’s no choice for you, my boy,’ returned Michael. ‘Bent Pitman or + nothing. As for me, I think I look as if I might be called Appleby; + something agreeably old-world about Appleby—breathes of Devonshire + cider. Talking of which, suppose you wet your whistle? the interview is + likely to be trying.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I think I’ll wait till afterwards,’ returned Pitman; ‘on the whole, I + think I’ll wait till the thing’s over. I don’t know if it strikes you as + it does me; but the place seems deserted and silent, Mr Finsbury, and + filled with very singular echoes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Kind of Jack-in-the-box feeling?’ enquired Michael, ‘as if all these + empty trains might be filled with policemen waiting for a signal? and Sir + Charles Warren perched among the girders with a silver whistle to his + lips? It’s guilt, Pitman.’ + </p> + <p> + In this uneasy frame of mind they walked nearly the whole length of the + departure platform, and at the western extremity became aware of a slender + figure standing back against a pillar. The figure was plainly sunk into a + deep abstraction; he was not aware of their approach, but gazed far abroad + over the sunlit station. Michael stopped. + </p> + <p> + ‘Holloa!’ said he, ‘can that be your advertiser? If so, I’m done with it.’ + And then, on second thoughts: ‘Not so, either,’ he resumed more + cheerfully. ‘Here, turn your back a moment. So. Give me the specs.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But you agreed I was to have them,’ protested Pitman. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah, but that man knows me,’ said Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘Does he? what’s his name?’ cried Pitman. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, he took me into his confidence,’ returned the lawyer. ‘But I may say + one thing: if he’s your advertiser (and he may be, for he seems to have + been seized with criminal lunacy) you can go ahead with a clear + conscience, for I hold him in the hollow of my hand.’ + </p> + <p> + The change effected, and Pitman comforted with this good news, the pair + drew near to Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘Are you looking for Mr William Bent Pitman?’ enquired the drawing-master. + ‘I am he.’ + </p> + <p> + Morris raised his head. He saw before him, in the speaker, a person of + almost indescribable insignificance, in white spats and a shirt cut + indecently low. A little behind, a second and more burly figure offered + little to criticism, except ulster, whiskers, spectacles, and deerstalker + hat. Since he had decided to call up devils from the underworld of London, + Morris had pondered deeply on the probabilities of their appearance. His + first emotion, like that of Charoba when she beheld the sea, was one of + disappointment; his second did more justice to the case. Never before had + he seen a couple dressed like these; he had struck a new stratum. + </p> + <p> + ‘I must speak with you alone,’ said he. + </p> + <p> + ‘You need not mind Mr Appleby,’ returned Pitman. ‘He knows all.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘All? Do you know what I am here to speak of?’ enquired Morris—. + ‘The barrel.’ + </p> + <p> + Pitman turned pale, but it was with manly indignation. ‘You are the man!’ + he cried. ‘You very wicked person.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Am I to speak before him?’ asked Morris, disregarding these severe + expressions. + </p> + <p> + ‘He has been present throughout,’ said Pitman. ‘He opened the barrel; your + guilty secret is already known to him, as well as to your Maker and + myself.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, then,’ said Morris, ‘what have you done with the money?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I know nothing about any money,’ said Pitman. + </p> + <p> + ‘You needn’t try that on,’ said Morris. ‘I have tracked you down; you came + to the station sacrilegiously disguised as a clergyman, procured my + barrel, opened it, rifled the body, and cashed the bill. I have been to + the bank, I tell you! I have followed you step by step, and your denials + are childish and absurd.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Come, come, Morris, keep your temper,’ said Mr Appleby. + </p> + <p> + ‘Michael!’ cried Morris, ‘Michael here too!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Here too,’ echoed the lawyer; ‘here and everywhere, my good fellow; every + step you take is counted; trained detectives follow you like your shadow; + they report to me every three-quarters of an hour; no expense is spared.’ + </p> + <p> + Morris’s face took on a hue of dirty grey. ‘Well, I don’t care; I have the + less reserve to keep,’ he cried. ‘That man cashed my bill; it’s a theft, + and I want the money back.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you think I would lie to you, Morris?’ asked Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know,’ said his cousin. ‘I want my money.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It was I alone who touched the body,’ began Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘You? Michael!’ cried Morris, starting back. ‘Then why haven’t you + declared the death?’ ‘What the devil do you mean?’ asked Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘Am I mad? or are you?’ cried Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘I think it must be Pitman,’ said Michael. + </p> + <p> + The three men stared at each other, wild-eyed. + </p> + <p> + ‘This is dreadful,’ said Morris, ‘dreadful. I do not understand one word + that is addressed to me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I give you my word of honour, no more do I,’ said Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘And in God’s name, why whiskers?’ cried Morris, pointing in a ghastly + manner at his cousin. ‘Does my brain reel? How whiskers?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, that’s a matter of detail,’ said Michael. + </p> + <p> + There was another silence, during which Morris appeared to himself to be + shot in a trapeze as high as St Paul’s, and as low as Baker Street + Station. + </p> + <p> + ‘Let us recapitulate,’ said Michael, ‘unless it’s really a dream, in which + case I wish Teena would call me for breakfast. My friend Pitman, here, + received a barrel which, it now appears, was meant for you. The barrel + contained the body of a man. How or why you killed him...’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I never laid a hand on him,’ protested Morris. ‘This is what I have + dreaded all along. But think, Michael! I’m not that kind of man; with all + my faults, I wouldn’t touch a hair of anybody’s head, and it was all dead + loss to me. He got killed in that vile accident.’ + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Michael was seized by mirth so prolonged and excessive that his + companions supposed beyond a doubt his reason had deserted him. Again and + again he struggled to compose himself, and again and again laughter + overwhelmed him like a tide. In all this maddening interview there had + been no more spectral feature than this of Michael’s merriment; and Pitman + and Morris, drawn together by the common fear, exchanged glances of + anxiety. + </p> + <p> + ‘Morris,’ gasped the lawyer, when he was at last able to articulate, ‘hold + on, I see it all now. I can make it clear in one word. Here’s the key: I + NEVER GUESSED IT WAS UNCLE JOSEPH TILL THIS MOMENT.’ + </p> + <p> + This remark produced an instant lightening of the tension for Morris. For + Pitman it quenched the last ray of hope and daylight. Uncle Joseph, whom + he had left an hour ago in Norfolk Street, pasting newspaper cuttings?—it?—the + dead body?—then who was he, Pitman? and was this Waterloo Station or + Colney Hatch? + </p> + <p> + ‘To be sure!’ cried Morris; ‘it was badly smashed, I know. How stupid not + to think of that! Why, then, all’s clear; and, my dear Michael, I’ll tell + you what—we’re saved, both saved. You get the tontine—I don’t + grudge it you the least—and I get the leather business, which is + really beginning to look up. Declare the death at once, don’t mind me in + the smallest, don’t consider me; declare the death, and we’re all right.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah, but I can’t declare it,’ said Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why not?’ cried Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘I can’t produce the corpus, Morris. I’ve lost it,’ said the lawyer. + </p> + <p> + ‘Stop a bit,’ ejaculated the leather merchant. ‘How is this? It’s not + possible. I lost it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, I’ve lost it too, my son,’ said Michael, with extreme serenity. + ‘Not recognizing it, you see, and suspecting something irregular in its + origin, I got rid of—what shall we say?—got rid of the + proceeds at once.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You got rid of the body? What made you do that?’ walled Morris. ‘But you + can get it again? You know where it is?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I wish I did, Morris, and you may believe me there, for it would be a + small sum in my pocket; but the fact is, I don’t,’ said Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘Good Lord,’ said Morris, addressing heaven and earth, ‘good Lord, I’ve + lost the leather business!’ + </p> + <p> + Michael was once more shaken with laughter. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why do you laugh, you fool?’ cried his cousin, ‘you lose more than I. + You’ve bungled it worse than even I did. If you had a spark of feeling, + you would be shaking in your boots with vexation. But I’ll tell you one + thing—I’ll have that eight hundred pound—I’ll have that and go + to Swan River—that’s mine, anyway, and your friend must have forged + to cash it. Give me the eight hundred, here, upon this platform, or I go + straight to Scotland Yard and turn the whole disreputable story inside + out.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Morris,’ said Michael, laying his hand upon his shoulder, ‘hear reason. + It wasn’t us, it was the other man. We never even searched the body.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The other man?’ repeated Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, the other man. We palmed Uncle Joseph off upon another man,’ said + Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘You what? You palmed him off? That’s surely a singular expression,’ said + Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, palmed him off for a piano,’ said Michael with perfect simplicity. + ‘Remarkably full, rich tone,’ he added. + </p> + <p> + Morris carried his hand to his brow and looked at it; it was wet with + sweat. ‘Fever,’ said he. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, it was a Broadwood grand,’ said Michael. ‘Pitman here will tell you + if it was genuine or not.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Eh? O! O yes, I believe it was a genuine Broadwood; I have played upon it + several times myself,’ said Pitman. ‘The three-letter E was broken.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t say anything more about pianos,’ said Morris, with a strong + shudder; ‘I’m not the man I used to be! This—this other man—let’s + come to him, if I can only manage to follow. Who is he? Where can I get + hold of him?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah, that’s the rub,’ said Michael. ‘He’s been in possession of the + desired article, let me see—since Wednesday, about four o’clock, and + is now, I should imagine, on his way to the isles of Javan and Gadire.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Michael,’ said Morris pleadingly, ‘I am in a very weak state, and I beg + your consideration for a kinsman. Say it slowly again, and be sure you are + correct. When did he get it?’ + </p> + <p> + Michael repeated his statement. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, that’s the worst thing yet,’ said Morris, drawing in his breath. + </p> + <p> + ‘What is?’ asked the lawyer. + </p> + <p> + ‘Even the dates are sheer nonsense,’ said the leather merchant. + </p> + <p> + ‘The bill was cashed on Tuesday. There’s not a gleam of reason in the + whole transaction.’ + </p> + <p> + A young gentleman, who had passed the trio and suddenly started and turned + back, at this moment laid a heavy hand on Michael’s shoulder. + </p> + <p> + ‘Aha! so this is Mr Dickson?’ said he. + </p> + <p> + The trump of judgement could scarce have rung with a more dreadful note in + the ears of Pitman and the lawyer. To Morris this erroneous name seemed a + legitimate enough continuation of the nightmare in which he had so long + been wandering. And when Michael, with his brand-new bushy whiskers, broke + from the grasp of the stranger and turned to run, and the weird little + shaven creature in the low-necked shirt followed his example with a + bird-like screech, and the stranger (finding the rest of his prey escape + him) pounced with a rude grasp on Morris himself, that gentleman’s frame + of mind might be very nearly expressed in the colloquial phrase: ‘I told + you so!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have one of the gang,’ said Gideon Forsyth. + </p> + <p> + ‘I do not understand,’ said Morris dully. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, I will make you understand,’ returned Gideon grimly. + </p> + <p> + ‘You will be a good friend to me if you can make me understand anything,’ + cried Morris, with a sudden energy of conviction. + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know you personally, do I?’ continued Gideon, examining his + unresisting prisoner. ‘Never mind, I know your friends. They are your + friends, are they not?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I do not understand you,’ said Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘You had possibly something to do with a piano?’ suggested Gideon. + </p> + <p> + ‘A piano!’ cried Morris, convulsively clasping Gideon by the arm. ‘Then + you’re the other man! Where is it? Where is the body? And did you cash the + draft?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Where is the body? This is very strange,’ mused Gideon. ‘Do you want the + body?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Want it?’ cried Morris. ‘My whole fortune depends upon it! I lost it. + Where is it? Take me to it? + </p> + <p> + ‘O, you want it, do you? And the other man, Dickson—does he want + it?’ enquired Gideon. + </p> + <p> + ‘Who do you mean by Dickson? O, Michael Finsbury! Why, of course he does! + He lost it too. If he had it, he’d have won the tontine tomorrow.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Michael Finsbury! Not the solicitor?’ cried Gideon. ‘Yes, the solicitor,’ + said Morris. ‘But where is the body?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then that is why he sent the brief! What is Mr Finsbury’s private + address?’ asked Gideon. + </p> + <p> + ‘233 King’s Road. What brief? Where are you going? Where is the body?’ + cried Morris, clinging to Gideon’s arm. + </p> + <p> + ‘I have lost it myself,’ returned Gideon, and ran out of the station. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. The Return of the Great Vance + </h2> + <p> + Morris returned from Waterloo in a frame of mind that baffles description. + He was a modest man; he had never conceived an overweening notion of his + own powers; he knew himself unfit to write a book, turn a table + napkin-ring, entertain a Christmas party with legerdemain—grapple + (in short) any of those conspicuous accomplishments that are usually + classed under the head of genius. He knew—he admitted—his + parts to be pedestrian, but he had considered them (until quite lately) + fully equal to the demands of life. And today he owned himself defeated: + life had the upper hand; if there had been any means of flight or place to + flee to, if the world had been so ordered that a man could leave it like a + place of entertainment, Morris would have instantly resigned all further + claim on its rewards and pleasures, and, with inexpressible contentment, + ceased to be. As it was, one aim shone before him: he could get home. Even + as the sick dog crawls under the sofa, Morris could shut the door of John + Street and be alone. + </p> + <p> + The dusk was falling when he drew near this place of refuge; and the first + thing that met his eyes was the figure of a man upon the step, alternately + plucking at the bell-handle and pounding on the panels. The man had no + hat, his clothes were hideous with filth, he had the air of a hop-picker. + Yet Morris knew him; it was John. + </p> + <p> + The first impulse of flight was succeeded, in the elder brother’s bosom, + by the empty quiescence of despair. ‘What does it matter now?’ he thought, + and drawing forth his latchkey ascended the steps. + </p> + <p> + John turned about; his face was ghastly with weariness and dirt and fury; + and as he recognized the head of his family, he drew in a long rasping + breath, and his eyes glittered. + </p> + <p> + ‘Open that door,’ he said, standing back. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am going to,’ said Morris, and added mentally, ‘He looks like murder!’ + </p> + <p> + The brothers passed into the hall, the door closed behind them; and + suddenly John seized Morris by the shoulders and shook him as a terrier + shakes a rat. ‘You mangy little cad,’ he said, ‘I’d serve you right to + smash your skull!’ And shook him again, so that his teeth rattled and his + head smote upon the wall. + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t be violent, Johnny,’ said Morris. ‘It can’t do any good now.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Shut your mouth,’ said John, ‘your time’s come to listen.’ + </p> + <p> + He strode into the dining-room, fell into the easy-chair, and taking off + one of his burst walking-shoes, nursed for a while his foot like one in + agony. ‘I’m lame for life,’ he said. ‘What is there for dinner?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nothing, Johnny,’ said Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘Nothing? What do you mean by that?’ enquired the Great Vance. ‘Don’t set + up your chat to me!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I mean simply nothing,’ said his brother. ‘I have nothing to eat, and + nothing to buy it with. I’ve only had a cup of tea and a sandwich all this + day myself.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Only a sandwich?’ sneered Vance. ‘I suppose YOU’RE going to complain + next. But you had better take care: I’ve had all I mean to take; and I can + tell you what it is, I mean to dine and to dine well. Take your signets + and sell them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I can’t today,’ objected Morris; ‘it’s Sunday.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I tell you I’m going to dine!’ cried the younger brother. + </p> + <p> + ‘But if it’s not possible, Johnny?’ pleaded the other. + </p> + <p> + ‘You nincompoop!’ cried Vance. ‘Ain’t we householders? Don’t they know us + at that hotel where Uncle Parker used to come. Be off with you; and if you + ain’t back in half an hour, and if the dinner ain’t good, first I’ll lick + you till you don’t want to breathe, and then I’ll go straight to the + police and blow the gaff. Do you understand that, Morris Finsbury? Because + if you do, you had better jump.’ + </p> + <p> + The idea smiled even upon the wretched Morris, who was sick with famine. + He sped upon his errand, and returned to find John still nursing his foot + in the armchair. + </p> + <p> + ‘What would you like to drink, Johnny?’ he enquired soothingly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Fizz,’ said John. ‘Some of the poppy stuff from the end bin; a bottle of + the old port that Michael liked, to follow; and see and don’t shake the + port. And look here, light the fire—and the gas, and draw down the + blinds; it’s cold and it’s getting dark. And then you can lay the cloth. + And, I say—here, you! bring me down some clothes.’ + </p> + <p> + The room looked comparatively habitable by the time the dinner came; and + the dinner itself was good: strong gravy soup, fillets of sole, mutton + chops and tomato sauce, roast beef done rare with roast potatoes, cabinet + pudding, a piece of Chester cheese, and some early celery: a meal + uncompromisingly British, but supporting. + </p> + <p> + ‘Thank God!’ said John, his nostrils sniffing wide, surprised by joy into + the unwonted formality of grace. ‘Now I’m going to take this chair with my + back to the fire—there’s been a strong frost these two last nights, + and I can’t get it out of my bones; the celery will be just the ticket—I’m + going to sit here, and you are going to stand there, Morris Finsbury, and + play butler.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But, Johnny, I’m so hungry myself,’ pleaded Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘You can have what I leave,’ said Vance. ‘You’re just beginning to pay + your score, my daisy; I owe you one-pound-ten; don’t you rouse the British + lion!’ There was something indescribably menacing in the face and voice of + the Great Vance as he uttered these words, at which the soul of Morris + withered. ‘There!’ resumed the feaster, ‘give us a glass of the fizz to + start with. Gravy soup! And I thought I didn’t like gravy soup! Do you + know how I got here?’ he asked, with another explosion of wrath. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, Johnny; how could I?’ said the obsequious Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘I walked on my ten toes!’ cried John; ‘tramped the whole way from + Browndean; and begged! I would like to see you beg. It’s not so easy as + you might suppose. I played it on being a shipwrecked mariner from Blyth; + I don’t know where Blyth is, do you? but I thought it sounded natural. I + begged from a little beast of a schoolboy, and he forked out a bit of + twine, and asked me to make a clove hitch; I did, too, I know I did, but + he said it wasn’t, he said it was a granny’s knot, and I was a + what-d’ye-call-’em, and he would give me in charge. Then I begged from a + naval officer—he never bothered me with knots, but he only gave me a + tract; there’s a nice account of the British navy!—and then from a + widow woman that sold lollipops, and I got a hunch of bread from her. + Another party I fell in with said you could generally always get bread; + and the thing to do was to break a plateglass window and get into gaol; + seemed rather a brilliant scheme. Pass the beef.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why didn’t you stay at Browndean?’ Morris ventured to enquire. + </p> + <p> + ‘Skittles!’ said John. ‘On what? The Pink Un and a measly religious paper? + I had to leave Browndean; I had to, I tell you. I got tick at a public, + and set up to be the Great Vance; so would you, if you were leading such a + beastly existence! And a card stood me a lot of ale and stuff, and we got + swipey, talking about music-halls and the piles of tin I got for singing; + and then they got me on to sing “Around her splendid form I weaved the + magic circle,” and then he said I couldn’t be Vance, and I stuck to it + like grim death I was. It was rot of me to sing, of course, but I thought + I could brazen it out with a set of yokels. It settled my hash at the + public,’ said John, with a sigh. ‘And then the last thing was the + carpenter—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Our landlord?’ enquired Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s the party,’ said John. ‘He came nosing about the place, and then + wanted to know where the water-butt was, and the bedclothes. I told him to + go to the devil; so would you too, when there was no possible thing to + say! And then he said I had pawned them, and did I know it was felony? + Then I made a pretty neat stroke. I remembered he was deaf, and talked a + whole lot of rot, very politely, just so low he couldn’t hear a word. “I + don’t hear you,” says he. “I know you don’t, my buck, and I don’t mean you + to,” says I, smiling away like a haberdasher. “I’m hard of hearing,” he + roars. “I’d be in a pretty hot corner if you weren’t,” says I, making + signs as if I was explaining everything. It was tip-top as long as it + lasted. “Well,” he said, “I’m deaf, worse luck, but I bet the constable + can hear you.” And off he started one way, and I the other. They got a + spirit-lamp and the Pink Un, and that old religious paper, and another + periodical you sent me. I think you must have been drunk—it had a + name like one of those spots that Uncle Joseph used to hold forth at, and + it was all full of the most awful swipes about poetry and the use of the + globes. It was the kind of thing that nobody could read out of a lunatic + asylum. The Athaeneum, that was the name! Golly, what a paper!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Athenaeum, you mean,’ said Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t care what you call it,’ said John, ‘so as I don’t require to take + it in! There, I feel better. Now I’m going to sit by the fire in the + easy-chair; pass me the cheese, and the celery, and the bottle of port—no, + a champagne glass, it holds more. And now you can pitch in; there’s some + of the fish left and a chop, and some fizz. Ah,’ sighed the refreshed + pedestrian, ‘Michael was right about that port; there’s old and vatted for + you! Michael’s a man I like; he’s clever and reads books, and the + Athaeneum, and all that; but he’s not dreary to meet, he don’t talk + Athaeneum like the other parties; why, the most of them would throw a + blight over a skittle alley! Talking of Michael, I ain’t bored myself to + put the question, because of course I knew it from the first. You’ve made + a hash of it, eh?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Michael made a hash of it,’ said Morris, flushing dark. + </p> + <p> + ‘What have we got to do with that?’ enquired John. + </p> + <p> + ‘He has lost the body, that’s what we have to do with it,’ cried Morris. + ‘He has lost the body, and the death can’t be established.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Hold on,’ said John. ‘I thought you didn’t want to?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O, we’re far past that,’ said his brother. ‘It’s not the tontine now, + it’s the leather business, Johnny; it’s the clothes upon our back.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Stow the slow music,’ said John, ‘and tell your story from beginning to + end.’ Morris did as he was bid. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, now, what did I tell you?’ cried the Great Vance, when the other + had done. ‘But I know one thing: I’m not going to be humbugged out of my + property.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I should like to know what you mean to do,’ said Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll tell you that,’ responded John with extreme decision. ‘I’m going to + put my interests in the hands of the smartest lawyer in London; and + whether you go to quod or not is a matter of indifference to me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, Johnny, we’re in the same boat!’ expostulated Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘Are we?’ cried his brother. ‘I bet we’re not! Have I committed forgery? + have I lied about Uncle Joseph? have I put idiotic advertisements in the + comic papers? have I smashed other people’s statues? I like your cheek, + Morris Finsbury. No, I’ve let you run my affairs too long; now they shall + go to Michael. I like Michael, anyway; and it’s time I understood my + situation.’ + </p> + <p> + At this moment the brethren were interrupted by a ring at the bell, and + Morris, going timorously to the door, received from the hands of a + commissionaire a letter addressed in the hand of Michael. Its contents ran + as follows: + </p> + <p> + MORRIS FINSBURY, if this should meet the eye of, he will hear of SOMETHING + TO HIS ADVANTAGE at my office, in Chancery Lane, at 10 A.M. tomorrow. + </p> + <p> + MICHAEL FINSBURY + </p> + <p> + So utter was Morris’s subjection that he did not wait to be asked, but + handed the note to John as soon as he had glanced at it himself. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s the way to write a letter,’ cried John. ‘Nobody but Michael could + have written that.’ + </p> + <p> + And Morris did not even claim the credit of priority. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. Final Adjustment of the Leather Business + </h2> + <p> + Finsbury brothers were ushered, at ten the next morning, into a large + apartment in Michael’s office; the Great Vance, somewhat restored from + yesterday’s exhaustion, but with one foot in a slipper; Morris, not + positively damaged, but a man ten years older than he who had left + Bournemouth eight days before, his face ploughed full of anxious wrinkles, + his dark hair liberally grizzled at the temples. + </p> + <p> + Three persons were seated at a table to receive them: Michael in the + midst, Gideon Forsyth on his right hand, on his left an ancient gentleman + with spectacles and silver hair. ‘By Jingo, it’s Uncle Joe!’ cried John. + </p> + <p> + But Morris approached his uncle with a pale countenance and glittering + eyes. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll tell you what you did!’ he cried. ‘You absconded!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Good morning, Morris Finsbury,’ returned Joseph, with no less asperity; + ‘you are looking seriously ill.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No use making trouble now,’ remarked Michael. ‘Look the facts in the + face. Your uncle, as you see, was not so much as shaken in the accident; a + man of your humane disposition ought to be delighted.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then, if that’s so,’ Morris broke forth, ‘how about the body? You don’t + mean to insinuate that thing I schemed and sweated for, and colported with + my own hands, was the body of a total stranger?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘O no, we can’t go as far as that,’ said Michael soothingly; ‘you may have + met him at the club.’ + </p> + <p> + Morris fell into a chair. ‘I would have found it out if it had come to the + house,’ he complained. ‘And why didn’t it? why did it go to Pitman? what + right had Pitman to open it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If you come to that, Morris, what have you done with the colossal + Hercules?’ asked Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘He went through it with the meat-axe,’ said John. ‘It’s all in spillikins + in the back garden.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, there’s one thing,’ snapped Morris; ‘there’s my uncle again, my + fraudulent trustee. He’s mine, anyway. And the tontine too. I claim the + tontine; I claim it now. I believe Uncle Masterman’s dead.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I must put a stop to this nonsense,’ said Michael, ‘and that for ever. + You say too near the truth. In one sense your uncle is dead, and has been + so long; but not in the sense of the tontine, which it is even on the + cards he may yet live to win. Uncle Joseph saw him this morning; he will + tell you he still lives, but his mind is in abeyance.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He did not know me,’ said Joseph; to do him justice, not without emotion. + </p> + <p> + ‘So you’re out again there, Morris,’ said John. ‘My eye! what a fool + you’ve made of yourself!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And that was why you wouldn’t compromise,’ said Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘As for the absurd position in which you and Uncle Joseph have been making + yourselves an exhibition,’ resumed Michael, ‘it is more than time it came + to an end. I have prepared a proper discharge in full, which you shall + sign as a preliminary.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What?’ cried Morris, ‘and lose my seven thousand eight hundred pounds, + and the leather business, and the contingent interest, and get nothing? + Thank you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s like you to feel gratitude, Morris,’ began Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘O, I know it’s no good appealing to you, you sneering devil!’ cried + Morris. ‘But there’s a stranger present, I can’t think why, and I appeal + to him. I was robbed of that money when I was an orphan, a mere child, at + a commercial academy. Since then, I’ve never had a wish but to get back my + own. You may hear a lot of stuff about me; and there’s no doubt at times I + have been ill-advised. But it’s the pathos of my situation; that’s what I + want to show you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Morris,’ interrupted Michael, ‘I do wish you would let me add one point, + for I think it will affect your judgement. It’s pathetic too since that’s + your taste in literature.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, what is it?’ said Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s only the name of one of the persons who’s to witness your signature, + Morris,’ replied Michael. ‘His name’s Moss, my dear.’ + </p> + <p> + There was a long silence. ‘I might have been sure it was you!’ cried + Morris. + </p> + <p> + ‘You’ll sign, won’t you?’ said Michael. + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you know what you’re doing?’ cried Morris. ‘You’re compounding a + felony.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Very well, then, we won’t compound it, Morris,’ returned Michael. ‘See + how little I understood the sterling integrity of your character! I + thought you would prefer it so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Look here, Michael,’ said John, ‘this is all very fine and large; but how + about me? Morris is gone up, I see that; but I’m not. And I was robbed, + too, mind you; and just as much an orphan, and at the blessed same academy + as himself.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Johnny,’ said Michael, ‘don’t you think you’d better leave it to me?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m your man,’ said John. ‘You wouldn’t deceive a poor orphan, I’ll take + my oath. Morris, you sign that document, or I’ll start in and astonish + your weak mind.’ + </p> + <p> + With a sudden alacrity, Morris proffered his willingness. Clerks were + brought in, the discharge was executed, and there was Joseph a free man + once more. + </p> + <p> + ‘And now,’ said Michael, ‘hear what I propose to do. Here, John and + Morris, is the leather business made over to the pair of you in + partnership. I have valued it at the lowest possible figure, Pogram and + Jarris’s. And here is a cheque for the balance of your fortune. Now, you + see, Morris, you start fresh from the commercial academy; and, as you said + yourself the leather business was looking up, I suppose you’ll probably + marry before long. Here’s your marriage present—from a Mr Moss.’ + </p> + <p> + Morris bounded on his cheque with a crimsoned countenance. + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t understand the performance,’ remarked John. ‘It seems too good to + be true.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s simply a readjustment,’ Michael explained. ‘I take up Uncle Joseph’s + liabilities; and if he gets the tontine, it’s to be mine; if my father + gets it, it’s mine anyway, you see. So that I’m rather advantageously + placed.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Morris, my unconverted friend, you’ve got left,’ was John’s comment. + </p> + <p> + ‘And now, Mr Forsyth,’ resumed Michael, turning to his silent guest, ‘here + are all the criminals before you, except Pitman. I really didn’t like to + interrupt his scholastic career; but you can have him arrested at the + seminary—I know his hours. Here we are then; we’re not pretty to + look at: what do you propose to do with us?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nothing in the world, Mr Finsbury,’ returned Gideon. ‘I seem to + understand that this gentleman’—-indicating Morris—‘is the + fons et origo of the trouble; and, from what I gather, he has already paid + through the nose. And really, to be quite frank, I do not see who is to + gain by any scandal; not me, at least. And besides, I have to thank you + for that brief.’ + </p> + <p> + Michael blushed. ‘It was the least I could do to let you have some + business,’ he said. ‘But there’s one thing more. I don’t want you to + misjudge poor Pitman, who is the most harmless being upon earth. I wish + you would dine with me tonight, and see the creature on his native heath—say + at Verrey’s?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have no engagement, Mr Finsbury,’ replied Gideon. ‘I shall be + delighted. But subject to your judgement, can we do nothing for the man in + the cart? I have qualms of conscience.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nothing but sympathize,’ said Michael. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1585 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |